Does anyone know a good wine to go with pork roast?

… has any ever heard my theory on life? It’s like this. As the great Bard said, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men merely players” (or something to that effect, I’m not sure what it is exactly).

My philosophy is that we all have our own parts in this grand production. However, not everyone has the lead. Some of us have bit parts, and some of us have leading roles, and some of us are destined to just be extras who blend into the background, but still add to the overall production. The point of this is, even though we all have our own parts, there are those of us out there in the world who know our lines, and know our parts, and know what the finale is. These are the folks who know what the hell they want out of life. These are the people who, when their teachers ask them in first grade what they want to be when they grow up, immediately answer that they are going to be a fireman, or a nurse, or a ballerina, and then they grow up to actually do what they say they are going to do.

And then there are people like me. People like me who are the little extras in the cast. Without us, the play would be pretty sucky - we create the ambiance, the mood, the whole attitude and setting of the stage, and unless we’re here, everything looks like one of those low-budget, off-off-off-Broadway monologue style plays.

However - and this is a big however - I’d like to think of myself as an understudy of sorts. I’m an extra who sits and waits. I watch. I learn. And when the time comes, when a bit part falls out of the scene for some reason, I will step into that role, eventually working my way up through the cast to become the lead that I someday will be. And I’m not picky. At this point, I don’t know what role I’m going to be next. I don’t know which lead part I’ll try to get into, and right now, I don’t care. I only want to be here.

My favorite dinner:

• 2lbs swordfish steaks
• a couple of spoonfuls of mayo
• pepper
• lemon juice
• 2 bags of boil in the bag rice

Place the swordfish steaks on a broiler pan if you’ve got one. If you don’t have one, put it on a cookie sheet lined in foil. If the fish has skin on it, leave it there. No one says you need to eat it, but that’s where the oils are in it, and it’ll help flavor the fish. Spread a couple of spoonfuls of mayo on the top of each one. Sure, it looks gross, but wait until you taste it! Sprinkle some black pepper on the top, and pop it in the oven at about 350 degrees until it’s cooked. At some point while the fish is cooking, usually after about 10 minutes, you’ll want to cook the rice. If you can’t figure out how to cook boil in the bag rice, you have my pity. When everything is done, plunk it down on a plate. Serve hot (obviously), with white wine, or my favorite, chocolate milk.

Exactly why I just revealed the secret of my kick-ass swordfish, I don’t know.

So I’m sitting around, doing nothing, when suddenly, I get a hungry feeling. I go to the kitchen, pull out a Hot Pocket to toss into the microwave, and place it on top of a plastic tupperware-like bowl cover because I can’t find a plate. Into the microwave for 2.5 minutes. I take the damned thing out of the nuker, and the hot pocket has welded itself to the lid. I pull the hot pocket off the lid, and I’m greeted with this stringy melted-cheese effect: the lid was melted.Wonderful.