I Hate My Oven

So, ya'll...I really need my ass kicked.

Um, YESTERDAY NIGHT (or three weeks ago when the assignment was given, whichever) I was supposed to be writing a book report for class TODAY. Guess how that went?

No, seriously. Guess.

Did you guess that not only did I not do the report, but that I also did not go to class? Did you? Because, if you did.......you would be right.

I decided to spend time with my favorite nineteen year old sister in the world. Yes, she may be my only nineteen year old sister,...but I also have a favorite sister who is significantly younger. Carey and I have been par-taying and I will be paying for it until Friday morning when I leave for a visit with my favorite thirty something year old aunt!

Anyway, my sister came home from school this weekend and I just sort of figured...why don't I pay her a visit from time to time??? Well here we are. Anyway, none of this has anything to do with what I will be talking about tonight.

Tonight, my dear friends, I will be dishing (ha, I made a pun. Aren't I witty? Shut it.) on the subject of cooking. I like to call it "Lasagna: the seventh ring of Hell".

Ya'll. This was bad. This was so bad that we almost had to call 911 and beg the fire department to Please, come and save us from the gate to Hell that has opened itself in the kitchen. Does the fire department handle Hell vortexes? I do not know. This was so bad that I locked myself in the closet with a pack of Marlboro's and a bag of candy corn and did not come out for like four FUCKING hours because PEOPLE. This was B-A-D.

SO, Thursday night. I was totally psyched about cooking Giada's lasagna. It is supposed to be fab-o and there were lots of loved ones coming to participate in the feasting and the drinking and the general gluttony of the night and I was just so glad that everyone was going to be together that I went all out.

It was supposed to have four cheeses. FOUR.

It was supposed to have tomato sauce, and meat that was edible, and spinach.

It was supposed to be a lovely, very grown-up meal.

It was none of these things.

I was doing grand. People were getting into town from various places at ridiculously late hours so I decided that NO ONE would be eating dinner. Aw, Hell Naw. We were all going to starve until supper was completed circa midnight.

SO, hungry people began arriving and I had everything organized and was just about to start layering the lasagna when Mash (who had consumed roughly forty seven bottles of wine) came in, totally loaded, and proceeded to assemble the dish while I was outside smoking. Apparently she was trying to help me (or channeling the devil, I'm still not sure which). When I came back in, a partly assembled lasagna had made its way to the oven TURNED BLOODY FUCKING UPSIDE DOWN and Mash was passed out on the dog bed all "I am sleepy and innocent, sorry starving people. Hate it for you" and I looked at Mash, and I looked at the flaming oven and then I looked at Mash again and then my head exploded.

And then I drank. And then people went to Krystal. And then I decided that I would NEVER ever cook again for all of you SOB's and I hope you choke on your chili cheese pup you bunch of ingrates. The worst part was the next morning when I had to clean out my ancient oven that is not equipped with a self cleaning mechanism and therefore required two things that I abhor with a fiery passion served up from the belly of Hades. Those things being: A) oven cleaning spray and B) manual labor.

Thankfully, I managed to clean the kitchen in less than thirty five hours and pretty much chucked everyone out of my house by Saturday afternoon.

This week is going to suck. I will literally be studying every bleeding moment and I haven't had a chance to get my hair done in a month..extra sadness. SO, posting will be slim...I'm sure there will be plenty to report after Thanksgiving at the asylum (better known as my parent's house)so stand by.

Have a good week, ya'll!