I have had this strange craving for Lasagna over the past week, so I left work early yesterday and went to work in the kitchen. I wanted to make real Lasagna, with italian sausage and fresh ingredients, rather than using spaghetti sauce. I invited the Mayor over for dinner, and he arrived almost a six pack ahead of me, as he had been at the Vans Warped tour with his boss earlier in the day. The recipe i printed off of some random site seemed easy enough; browning the meat, simmering the sauce, baking the final product. (note: i don't cook very often so this is a big deal to me). While the lasagna was baking, the mayor and i took advantage of the beautiful evening and sat out on my balcony admiring the new condo building across from me. We sat there trying to figure out the dynamics of the guys living on the 7th floor of the new glass building: two guys in their mid-thirties and one in his late 60's. And I know this by peering through the pair of Bushnell binoculars that my mom gave me. Is it a 3 way relationship? An ill parent? Still, every afternoon, the three of them sit out on the balcony together, staring into the bright afternoon sun.
The lasagna turned out to be quite good, though it could have used a bit more sauce. I was thinking that we would walk down the street for dessert, maybe some ice cream from the new place over at Spire. Instead, a few bottles of wine later, I found myself engaged in a full-fledged-above-the-waist-make-out-session. Which was just fine in my book. I awoke this morning, 10 hours of restful sleep later, with my jeans still on and no sign of diane. So I wonder, will something as simple as a home cooked meal end this drought?
on tap for the weekend: some pool time with johnbrown. i wonder if the assistant is receiving?