occasionally i wake up and julie lepage would aim me about needing this or that and i would shamelessly invite myself to go with her on her expedition since i have no car and am pretty much housebound unless i symbiotically get a ride from someone, which in this case, somebody who lives about a mile away from me in the next town over.

julie talked about getting a dehydrator. yes, the same kind of device you'd use to make such items as turkey jerky or dried fruits, as seen on those ronco infomercials, but not a ronco dehydrator per se because after some online researching, julie discovered that wasn't the best one, and who wants to buy a second rate appliance anyway? it's gotta be the best. what does a girl need with a dehydrator anyway, you might ask? well, that's what i said, and the answer was she wants to make dehydrated jewelry, coated in resin, preserved forever.

so under a white blinding backdrop of our latest freshly fallen march snowstorm, julie came to pick me up. first destination: pearl's in central square to get some resin. we went upstairs, where they house all their painting supplies. besides the tubes of paints and the bundles of brushes, there were stuff that looked like they belonged in a chemist laboratory, things in jars with strange names, things that i instinctively know from 29 years of living to be probably poisonous. she got some varnish and brushes, and then we went into the basement, where after telling me this sob story how ye old screen house lost her light box, julie went ahead and purchased a brand new one, all large and metallic and snazzy with a easy carry handle. after paying, we left the store, the storm outside getting even worse, everyone walking in a hurry, tightly clasping their coats, to get out of the heavily falling snow. julie walked back to the car with light box on her head, even walking backwards to avoid getting a face full of windblown white powder. our parking space in front of cambridge city hall had exactly one minute left in the meter when we got there. after clearing the car of 50 minutes worth of snowy buildup, we left for kitchen etc. at the fresh pond mall.

the path we took was towards the direction of harvard square out to memorial drive. slow driving was required with the streets still not plowed ("budget cuts," julie murmured a few times), as we watch cars slide around the slippery roads with snow-covered pedestrians walking about. days like this, it's really good to commute via public transportation instead of driving, it's just too hazardous, the big 100+ cars highway pile up on I-95 south this morning a case in point.

at kitchen etc., julie found her dehydrator, the nesco snackmaster®. there was even a convincing set of bar graphs on the side of the dehydrator box touting how it was much faster at dehydrating several different kinds of food versus the ronco or the black & decker dehydrators. i bought a box of multicolor magnutz (super strong magnets, i have magnet fever) and a single tea candle of fresh rain scent. next, we did a quick stop at the tj maxx next door, looking for cheap knick knacks to decorate the house with. they were selling this lawn gnome candle which i thought was really cool but i could never bring myself to use it, it looked too good to burn. julie got some lotion, we left soon after her mother called on the cellphone. i showed her the secret way back to my place via garden street. as soon as i got home, i shoveled the sidewalk and the steps, the first on my neighborhood to do so (i'm usually the last person to shovel, snow emergency laws be damned!). when i was done, i bumped into my upstairs neighbor steve coming back early from work.

with newfound magnetism, i was able to organize the clutter of haphazardly stuck fridge door items. hello kitty calendar, newspaper clippings, receipts, recipes, postcards. no photos though. that's what happens when you go digital. i sought solace in the teachings of an e! true hollywood story on the life of suzanne somers. that woman did everything, she inspires me! ask me anything about suzanne, i have within the span of a 2 hour sensationalized documentary become somewhat of an expert on her life now.

i found dinner in the questionable end of the food pool tonight. a man who is his own island can't eat like a king every night. when he doesn't buy, he makes. sometimes he eats leftovers. and then there are the rare occasions where he pulls nourishment from a grey nether region and must secretly pray to the gods of sustenance that he doesn't get sick over what he ate. tonight i cooked up some god-knows-how-old sweet italian sausages lying in the back of the fridge. i cooked it in an oiled frying pan over the stove, but it splattered so much i gave up on that idea, and threw the three sausages into the toaster oven, where i heated them at 400 degrees for 40 minutes, wanting to be absolutely sure they were cooked, not wanting to get food poisoning. it's been 4 hours and i'm still conscious and i haven't tossed my cookies in any shape or form, so i think i'm in the clear.