Burnt to Hell Paella: Hitting Pot Bottom

Happy Sunday, my brilliant B-Loungers!  I’ve been busy as f*** teaching children, buying a house, and entering a new decade.  It’s been quite the month, so let me fill you in.

First off, I got my kickass sleeve outline!  A Japanese traditional Alice in Wonderland mash-up, one of my many original and awesome ideas.  Check it:

sleeve 1sleeve 2sleeve 3

You know you’ve got a good tattoo when a worker at the shop says, “I don’t get jealous of tattoos… but I’m jealous of this one.”  My artist truly brought my vision to life.  My first color session is in January, so I’ll be sure to update you.

My latest culinary venture was paella, a magical dish that seemed easy enough.  Well, I royally f***ed it up and ended up with a terrible, blackened mess.

It started out strong: The turmeric was smelling great, I had some garlic, onions, and peppers nicely cooked, and Husband even exclaimed how great things smelled. Look how great it looked!


Then I got to the point in the directions that says to put two cups of uncooked rice in the pot and let it simmer.  Now, I’ve never cooked rice outside of a rice cooker, so I was already a bit apprehensive, but I figured as long as I follow the directions, I can’t go wrong.

Big. F***ing. Mistake.

I’m simmering away, like the recipe instructed, when I start to smell something burning.  Figuring that might happen, I stir the pot and attempt to scrape some of the burnt rice off the bottom.  I stir a little more and let it simmer.  Smoke starts slowly rising from the pot, then quickly crescendos into a billow.  I heave the massive pot of mostly goodness off the heat and frantically stir.  I’m only 6 minutes in to the 10 minutes of simmering, and that rice is still hard as pebbles.  What the hell do I do?!

“Well, better just see this shit through,” I thought.  I put the pot back on the heat and just let that motherf***er ride.

Needless to say, we had to open all the windows.

Honestly, the flavors were on point save for the burnt taste that permeated through the entire dish.  Damn it all to hell!  It even looked good, save all the black burnt bits:

paella 2paella 3

Well kids, the takeaway I got from this experience was to cook the rice in my rice cooker beforehand and add it at the end.  I’m simply too noob a cook to get this dish right by conventional means.  I spent 35 minutes yesterday scrubbing the shit out of my pot, and I still don’t have all the black bits out.  At least I got a good arm workout!


So my husband and I are hitting a milestone and buying our first house, and Jesus Christmas cards talk about a lot of paperwork!  I’m so thankful for 21st century E-Signing… I can’t even imagine what that was like before my beloved technology!  Signing all that shit by HAND?! And NOT in my underwear on my couch?! F*********ck that!  Just because it’s computer friendly doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its problems, however, as we learned one long, frustrating night.

The day we were to get our contract, our agent texted me at 5:48PM to let us know she sent it to us.  So I immediately go to my email and scour my inbox and junk, yielding no results.  I double-check to see if she sent it to the address I gave her.  She didn’t — apparently she somehow had an outdated Gmail account that I never use.  I text her my current Outlook email address, and she says she’ll resend.

6:06: Realtor asks if Husband received his email.  He had; I still hadn’t.  Says she’ll resend.

6:42: Still nothing.  She says she’ll delegate on my husband’s contract so he can sign for me.

7:08: No delegation email for the initial documents.  I create a new Gmail account, since Outlook sucks, and send her updated email address.

8:03: Realtor advises to check email now.  Had to redo the papers so both our names are on them.  Husband receives new paperwork, but I still haven’t received anything. Realtor says she’s delegated him so he can sign for me.  Doesn’t work.

8:26: Realtor advises she’s going to double-check my email address.

9:39: Receive the HOA docs, but still no contract docs.  We decide to call her to spell out my email address, because she has to be typing it in incorrectly.  Find out that she was spelling my last name F-i-o-r-E, not F-i-o-r-I.  Husband and I decide my new email address should be dontf***upmyemail@gmail.com.  Unfortunately, Google frowns upon profanity and refuses to create the address.

10:20: Finally, five hours later, we get the mother***ing documents signed, or rather, Husband electronically signs them for me, as I have passed the f*** out and won’t wake up.

The kicker?  She gives my email incorrectly (same mistake) to the title company the following day.  *bangs head against wall*  Thankfully, her realtor skills are vastly superior to her spelling.

Have you ever made paella?  What do you think of my new ink?  Any funny realtor stories?  Leave me a Reply and let me know!  I’d love to hear from you.

Till next time, my digital friends.  Stay hydrated!

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