Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Serendipity, Spicy Style

Today I received a message from Drummer Boy:


DB and I enjoy spicy food. And ramen. And spicy ramen. So I was happy that he'd found a couple of new contenders to challenge our tastebuds.

A few minutes after I received his message, I was randomly scrolling through the Buzzfeed app, because work was so dull that it made Buzzfeed seem like an appealing alternative. And I came across this:


Whoa, serendipity! 

World's spiciest noodle, huh? OK. Let's do this.

Actually, it will be this weekend before DB and I can try out these delicious ramens, including the purportedly "world's spiciest." I'm skeptical, personally, but I'm looking forward to seeing if I'm less of a pussy than the Buzzfeed tasters.

Spoiler alert: I'm totally less of a pussy than the Buzzfeed tasters.

But I promise you'll be able to follow along if you're interested.

To anyone who has eaten Unintelligible Asian Name Brand 2x Spicy Chicken Flavor Ramen: What did you think? Do you think DB and I can handle it?

Stay tuned.






Saturday, June 15, 2019

Summer Job, Mom Edition

You guys. Precocious Daughter has a summer job.

She (more or less) successfully finished her freshman year of college last month. Moving her out of her dorm room made me feel simultaneously sorry for and mad respectful of the men and women whose job is to clean college dorms at the end of the academic year. At least PDaughter cleaned her personal sink. Her roommates? My God.

I honestly don't want to know how pubic hairs
end up in a bathroom sink.
Anyway, having done work-study (i.e., paying scholarship students to pretend to work for doing mostly nothing) throughout the year, she's grown accustomed to having money in her pocket. As her university draws the line at giving students money for doing mostly nothing when school isn't even in session, that meant finding employment in the real world.

The real world, college student edition.

At first she thought she could simply go back to making bubble tea, which is how she spent last summer. Alas, the entire staff and management at that establishment turned over since last August (go figure), so that minimum-wage option was out.

So she weighed her options. And she decided that a) she wanted to earn more than minimum wage, b) she wanted a flexible schedule, and c) she likes driving around.

And so my daughter is now a pizza delivery person.

She works here:

Got it?
And I. Am. Freaking. Out.

Because maybe she'll get attacked/murdered/worse on the job. This is very unlikely, but I'm her mom, so...

Now. Her delivery area is smack-dab in the neighborhood we lived in before I got divorced, so I know it's a decent area. Mostly.

And she's currently working on her second-degree black belt in karate. That means something, right?

And, as much as I hate to admit it, she's a grown-ass woman, and if she wants to deliver pizza, that's on her, isn't it?

Me, if I were allowed.

Anyway, PDaughter is a pizza delivery person now.

She loves it.

I'm constantly worried.

She's delivering pizza.

Comments/feedback/coping advice greatly appreciated.