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25 September 2003 @ 11:52 pm
Where's my oven?  
No, I'm not the antagonist from the oft told 'Hansel and Gretyl' tale. See, I live in a rather run down, though decidedly spacious, apartment. My landlord is a 4' tall, 473 year old Italian man. He doesn't quite understand all of what I say, nor does he care to if the Man Of The House (ie, my husband Don) is around. (side note: about a month ago, he had a problem with his cable. I offered to see what I could do, as I used to work for a cable company in another life. Turns out he had the 'mute' button pressed on his remote. I took care of that, and he hailed me as a Wonder of the World. Even kissed me on the cheek!

Anyway, my 536 year old stove has been acting wonky for almost two months. The stove-top works fine, but the oven is a no-go. We had the same problem about a year after we moved in. Don and I ate the cost, but this time we decided to be more agressive. So... long story short, I called the Public Service, and they'll be out in the early morning hours tomorrow. We can deduct the cost of repairs from the rent.

Anyway... monetary issues aside, I miss my oven! I miss being able to roast a chicken, or pop in an Atkins-friendly seafood quiche. I miss being able to make decadent chocolate chip oatmeal cookies for friends, or likewise an absurdly brilliant marble-cheesecake. I hate not being able to make my terrific chicken breasts baked with garlic, shallots and fresh herbs. I hate not being able to IF I SO CHOOSE, make a frelling cake! Low-carb diet aside, I should have the option of producing layered-buttercream-frosted-yumminess for those of my friends who need not worry about dietary restrictions.


Return my oven. Please?