Hard-boiled blunders.

Today in my teenage angst, I failed to do the simplest of household tasks. I hard-boiled some eggs and failed. Look at the goiter on that egg. Gross. It reminds me of Spartacus. 


This was not my first egg fail. The first two times I boiled eggs (in my third year of college) they weren't fully cooked. The next time I devised that if I just boiled until the water was gone, they'd have to be cooked all the way through. Then I forgot about them boiling on the stove and one of the eggs blew up. 


It's funny how some of us miss those things growing up. It's not that I couldn't have learned, I just simply didn't want to. And now as an almost 23 year old, I am still failing at boiling eggs. That's the inside of the goiter egg. 


It's my goal this summer to learn to barbecue, so I'm on the road to rectification in the food realm. 



Here's a phot from Moncton. Well, actually this was in Halifax.


For the record. I don't plan on blogging about my trip to Moncton because the post would be so long that no one would read it. So let it be said that it was THE best trip. The photos are evidence.