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10 November Our Summer In Los Angeles - part 4Hey again, here's what happened with the chicken and our endeavours to be fit and healthy…hah…. even saying this makes us laugh!
In Ireland, on the 'rare' occasion that the weather is chilly, freezing or sub-zero artic like, we Irish like to tuck in to some good old-fashioned chicken – the traditional Sunday roast. Since we were trying to revive our "Bree Van de Kamp" phase, we decided that although unlike Ireland the weather in LA was scorching, sizzling and swelteringly boiling, something about our lives there needed an Irish touch – a chicken was the answer. So we bought one. But the hard part was still around the corner – the small matter of cooking it. The three of us stood in our kitchen and gawped vacantly at this strange looking lump of smarmy headless fowl. It looked back at us unresponsive (thank God) and raw. After what seemed like a half an hour gawking with baffled white faces at this ornithological wonder, we set about cooking the chicken. This would be interesting. Well first things first – We switched on the oven. After freeing the chicken of its disgusting internal gunk we put it on a baking tray and placed it in the oven. While it burned steadily in the corner, we set about to making the stuffing. Stuffing is the best part of a roast dinner but unfortunately our attempt looked nothing like our mother's lovely stuffing back in Ireland. We had looked to buy ready-made breadcrumbs in our local food store the day before, as we didn't have a blender to make our own. We pottered over to a sales assistant in Ralph’s and asked him politely whether the shop sold ready made breadcrumbs. "Sure thing" was his response. We exchanged glances, our white faces that were gradually turning pink from the sun of LA, beaming at each other. We had found our breadcrumbs. The salesman kindly directed us to the correct isle in the store where he reached up high on the shelf and presented us with a red tin, which bore the label breadcrumbs. "Great" we thought "Just Great". However when we arrived home, we realised that instead of exquisitely rounded knobs of bread for breadcrumbs, we had in fact bought a tin of what looked like sand – that is how microscopic these infinitesimal granules were. In the end, in order to counterbalance the minusculeness of the bread grain, we chopped some bits from a chunky sliced pan to make it thicker. After adding some diced onion which made us cry uncontrollably, and some basil which Carol insisted obstinately on – ("I'm telling you girls, it's basil that goes into stuffing"…… "Really? Not thyme? Not mixed herbs? Really? Are you sure?"….. "Girls, I am certain.") we were presented with the most outlandish, most unequal, most incorrect stuffing of all time. And while we stood for what seemed like half an hour gaping blankly at this pot of overflowing mushy sand grain, basil and a mountain of onion, the remainder of the dinner had shrivelled into utter bleakness. So……chips and beans it was then. The chicken was no longer our friend. But we still didn't want to give in to Cadbury's chocolate.
So, we reluctantly decided to go back to our healthy phase again – we wanted to try and make it last for longer than a day this time! As you can probably guess already … it didn’t! We were all so determined though – that was the funny part. We really believed this would be the last day we would devour junk and this would be the creation of something new, something exciting, something healthy, something ... something other than stuffing our faces with Cadburys! We thought of ‘fun’ ways to exercise – one being rollorblading. Once again we drifted off into our fantasyland and imagined us rollorblading along Santa Monica pier, the sun radiating intensely, our long hair blowing in the breeze and us ‘hopefully toned’ – Instead the reality was somehow different. Picture this – Three extremely white girls, ‘trying’ to roller blade, completely red faced, out of breath and one who will remained unnamed, falling all over the place! Thankfully she had a backpack on her back to soften her fall – ah it was a very ‘graceful’ fall though. Meanwhile, hundreds of gorgeous tanned people were gracefully gliding along the pier on their roller blades. They did it so effortlessly it was embarrassing. We must have stood out like sore thumbs, especially with all our protective padding. We had kneepads, wrist pads and elbow pads. In fairness, we did get better … after some time. However, throughout our hour of rollerblading, Helen began to realise that she was in fact quite burnt. She thought she would be more burnt than the chicken we cooked the day before. And because of the protective pads on her arms she got burnt in funny lines and markings. They were very pronounced markings especially against the exceedingly white skin. People thought they were cult markings, as we’ll tell you more about later.
Another form of exercise we decided to try was ‘power walking’ – this was not as fun In fact, it was hell. An hour of power walking in the blistering heat was absolute torture. God, we really were so unfit – but at least we had ‘dreams’ of being fit and healthy– even if they didn’t exactly work out. Anyway, once again we were so determined to make this work. We said without thinking what hell lay before us, “Lets try and do this everyday”. How naive we were! About 5 seconds into our walk we started thinking …. “Huh …. This is actually ok … I can do this”. Another 10 seconds went by and we were kinda getting a bit tired at this stage but wanted to walk for the full hour. By the time we were 30 seconds into our walk we were absolutely, one hundred percent almost dying. We felt like our heads were going to explode – We kept on thinking, “What the hell were we thinking of those 45 seconds ago!!” We could feel our heart pounding in our heads and we could see out of the corner of our eye, the flabbergasted glares of passers by as they saw these three massive red-faced girls crawling towards them – it wasn’t a pretty picture. When we finally arrived home, the couch somehow seemed to far to get to – we plonked ourselves on the floor outside our building and pored the remaining drip from our bottles of water over our cherry throbbing heads – what a site.
So as you can see, everything we have tried to do so far has failed – sorry let me rephrase that – failed MISERABLY with flying colours. You could say … we pulled a ‘Monica’ (for those of you who watch ‘Friends’) well many Monica’s really. Check back soon for more crazy mayhem – and if you thought it couldn’t possibly get worse or more comical … believe us it does!! Comments (9)
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