Went to a surf n’ turf party the other night. A surf n’ turf party is a party that starts out as a lobster bake, but grows to include a number of people who don’t eat lobster and so show up with steak. I was a steak person, because I am a terrible Nova Scotian and I hate lobster (more for the rest of you!). This was a kickboxer’s party, and ridiculous things tend to happen at kickboxer’s parties when things need to get tenderized.
The best thing is, it was the most tender steak I’ve ever had, swear to God. Possibly because I beat it way longer than was necessary, because punching things is an act of joy for me, but still, man, good steak. I highly suggest that every serious chef procure, as a matter of a complete kitchen set, a martial artist.
I partnered with Phil in kickboxing yesterday, and that was very good because he really kept me on my toes. I was dropping my right hand, as is my stupid tendency, and Phil just hit me in the face to remind me to not do that. I returned the favour, because this is what good partners do (for real).
Biking is going well. I tried biking in a skirt, while wearing shorts underneath, just because I was sick of always wearing jeans. Alas, the skirt did eventually get stuck in the spokes. There is probably some trick to skirt-biking where I bunch it all up and look ridiculous, so maybe I’ll just stick with jeans and shorts and blah blah blah. I do love my pretty skirts, though.