Crab Dip

I'm so stoked. Sometimes Boss Man has extra blue crabs that aren't heavy enough to (in good conscience) sell. Should there be a large enough quantity, he offers them to us to take home. Last night was such a night, and let me say:

Score.

I ended up with at least three or four dozen hardshells, which required only 3 manhours for Mum and me to pick. Armed with mounds of cream cheese, mayo, sour cream, and cheddar, I am prepared to make a beastly amount of crab dip for home AND the market. AND IT WILL BE GOOD.

This is my way of saying, "Thank you, seafood market, for being such a wonderful place and providing money and food as needed, and I'm sorry I didn't hang up the mats properly last night, and forgot to charge that lady for her extra garden salads. I love you all the same." Hopefully the seafood market will answer, "Holy Old Bay, Batman, this is delicious. What were you saying about that salad?" Or similarly.

By the way, have you seen Batman yet? Does anyone even read this blog yet to see the aforementioned questioned? If the answer is yes to either (and therefore both?), then you rock, and so did "Dark Knight." My coworkers and bosses went to a late-night showing and let me say, it was EPIC. I love superheroes who rely on their own wit/intelligence/technology, rather than just a toxic waste pit or radiation. Perhaps it isn't as impressive that they rely on tech to fly, but I'm impressed. They're smart. Batman has for while been my favorite super, and Robin... I don't know, maybe he'll be in the next Christopher Nolan version.

I'm making crab dip tomorrow. And it's gonna rock.

That Was Fast

For the past few days I've been working nonstop, but occasionally remembering that I need to read my favorite updated blogs.



This only worsens the fact that I forgot I have one, too.

Probably Moving Forward

I've worked at a seafood market all summer, every summer, for the past five years. I love it desperately. I adore my bosses, coworkers, the seafood we sell, and the fun we have, and I would happily work there forever. Thus, I've named this blog by the question I ask dozens of people everyday when they order crabs and shrimp ("Would you like that steamed and spiced?"). This may or may not remind me that I'm trying to one day have a future outside of the summer job industry. Maybe not.

I want to write or draw or design something. And make a living from it. But right now, it feels like this student life will never end. I don't mean that in a negative way, but I haven't truly grasped the idea that one day I'll be living in "the real world," with large student loans to repay and food that isn't automatically prepared by parents or cafeteria staff. Instead, smaller jobs dominate my life: fish-selling in the summer and book-scanning at the library in autumn. What I do is important to those I help. But I'm planning for something else and at times wondering if I'm going anywhere.

The best I can think of to do now is DO SOMETHING PROACTIVE. Good word, eh? Desperately I'm trying to accomplish something each day. If I'm going to sit around the house all day, I can at least clean something. If I'm going to sit on the computer all night, I can at least apply for a scholarship. Day off? Visit a friend, go school shopping, go to the bank or doctor.

So it kind of feels like I'm doing something. There is hope for a future beyond day-to-day life and labor. I'm probably moving forward.

Am I Even Doing This Right?

Two of my friends have created blogs, and I figure it's my turn to jump off that cliff.

I've been considering doing this for awhile, but there are several reasons why I have not yet.

1) I don't know how much I have to say to the world. I don't want to be a boring or whiney writer who talks about nothing, though I love reading anything other people write, including colanders. I don't think they're boring.

2) If I can compose this online, why can't I stick it in my diary? Several lovely, lonely journals sit on my bookshelf, begging for purpose, but all I ever end up doing is being whiney when I write. This returns us to the original problem (See #1).

3) I hate the word blog. It sounds like "blob" or "bog," and is therefore too swampy for my taste.

4) Mum always says not to put too much information on the internet, and how am I supposed to write about anything if I can't write about it in explicit detail?

With this in mind, I now have a blog, and shall perhaps write again sometime.