Thank you for the e-mails concerning my status and I can assure you I am alive and marginally well. I did have my doubts though and was so concerned this morning when I drifted into consciousness I asked Hot Dog Dude if he could place a mirror in front of my mouth just to be sure.
He wasn't in the mood to humor me, like I was totally in the mood to humor him today when he requested I redo the same invoices I've done three times in a row now.
Before you go thinking I've totally lost it, it is all my dentists' fault I can assure you. I have to say not that I was totally in love with him before yesterday, but I think he has just moved up there to dislike as much as vegan cheese status.
A couple weeks ago I thought I chipped one of my molars, the fact I spit out white pieces after a loud crunch sound should have been proof. I ignored it, because I'm pretty good at that sort of thing. Something kept telling me I probably shouldn't and I dragged myself into said dentist in question for a look-see.
I probably should have exited quickly when he brought out his cell phone to take a picture of my tooth (with all the advances in dentistry this was the best he could do) then he proceeded to show me a picture of said tooth complete with a big crack down the center. Return in a few hours he told me and he'd fix it. (Not once did he disclaim I should probably be under the influence upon returning.)
Upon returning I plopped myself in his chair and he comes over and starts laughing.
Dentist: "Oh I'm sorry; I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at the fact I just can't believe you did that."
Me: (inner dialogue) "No, I'm pretty sure you were laughing at me a**hole!" (Never say something like this aloud to someone who is inching towards you with a 6-inch needle and a power drill ready to go. Trust me on this one.)
After what seemed like 14 hours of drilling, bleeding, and having my fingernails poke holes in my skin from excessive hand wringing, he released me into the wild and said to return in a few weeks. (Like that is really gonna happen.)
Yes I see exactly how you extrapolated macaroni and cheese out of that story, crazy Cookie Queen (also trust me it takes a special kind of mind to posses this power).
Italian Macaroni and Cheese (for the record there is absolutely nothing Italian about this, but my cousin calls it that and I think that is sweet)
1 pound dried rigatoni noodles
4 tablespoons butter
4 tablespoons all-purpose flour
4 cups milk
8 ounces cheddar cheese, cut in thin slices
Pinch ground nutmeg
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Place a large pot of water on to boil and add a few teaspoons salt, once it's boiling vigorously add the rigatoni noodles. Cook about 10 minutes or until al dente.
Place the butter in a medium saucepan and turn on medium heat and let the butter melt. Add the flour and whisk until smooth, cook one minute and add the milk, a little salt, pepper, and a pinch of nutmeg. Simmer on low heat until ready to assemble the casserole.
Drain the noodles. Spray a casserole dish about an 11" x 13" sized one with no-stick spray and place half of the noodles on the bottom. Add half of the cheese slices over that, sprinkle with a little S&P and pour half of the milk mixture over that. Add the other half of the noodles, other half of the cheese, and the rest of the milk.
Bake for 40-45 minutes or until most of the liquid is absorbed and the tops of the noodles are getting brown and crispy.
The fact I'm in a shit mood probably has more to do with the fact I polished off a bottle of wine by myself last night because the shots he gave me wore off exactly at bedtime and I have a massive hangover today. Nah, I'm pretty sure it's because I just hate my dentist.
The hung over Cookie Queen