my pulled pork gave the dog diarrhea

I'm not much of a cook. I associate cooking with stress, sweat, and crying. Because that's usually what cooking inspires in me.
However. I have determined to make myself cook twice a week. Very much like my mom forced me to do when I was a teenager. You're cooking whether you like it or not, Sunny Jane. Trust me, you'll be glad one day. 
She was right, I am glad now. Although I'm not a great cook, I can get by. I'll never starve. But thank God for microwaves because I would definitely be hungry without mine.

Anyway, I'm just a little over one week into my new self enforced cooking skills. Pulled pork was first up on the menu. I chose this for two reasons. One, I like pulled pork. And two, how easy can you get? Throw two ingredients into the crock pot for 8 hours and you've just made yourself dinner.

Yes. This would be easy.

I asked Mom to pick up a small to medium sized boneless, pork roast while she was out grocery shopping.
So she brought back a pork roast the size of my torso with a bone in it the size of my femur.

I wondered how long we would be eating pulled pork. The rest of our lives apparently. Maybe we could feed the homeless too.

I also wondered how to fit it in the crock pot. And would the bone make a difference? Karen said boneless. What if the bone ruined it? Why was there so much fat all over the roast? Is it possible to suffer dehydration from sweating so much?

After much consideration, I cut the roast in half. This was brilliant on so many levels. It enabled me to fit the roast into the crock pot. It turned one roast into two. And by cutting it in half, I eliminated the whole bone issue since the bone was only in one side of the roast. Like I said, brilliant. I also cut off all the fat from the outside because I ain't eating no pig chub.

And then I made pulled pork. And when it came time to pull the pork apart, I saw LOADS of fat still clinging to the inside of the roast. Any kind of animal fat makes me very unhappy. I can't eat it. But that's okay. I would carefully remove it. And since a lot of meat came off with the fat, I fed it to the dog.

Then the dog went delicately into the bathroom and had diarrhea all over the place.

I'm happy to report, though, that when I made baked Parmesan chicken a few days later, it was both delicious and uneventful. Except for the part where I put an oven mitt on the stove burner and it caught fire. But at least there wasn't any diarrhea involved. I consider that a success.

I don't have a picture of my pulled pork, the Parmesan chicken, or even the dog. But here's a picture of some sugar. Sugar is often used in cooking.

And here is a cake that I made for the girls on Valentine's Day.

My current Hulu Plus obsession is Master Chef. I've watched two and a half seasons this week, and I get tears in my eyes any time Gordon Ramsey says something nice to the participants. I'm so inspired by the show, that I'm going out to the Hoover's next week for a few days to learn how to make egg rolls (who knew you could make those at home and not just buy them from the freezer section at the grocery store?). We're also going to make French macarons. Macarons are a delicious rainbow in a box. I bought some for Mrs. Hoover one time when I was in Greece. Then I ate them all in one day. Sorry, Mrs. Hoover. I was ashamed of myself afterward.

I hope no one gets diarrhea next week.

Love,
She Who Inspires Diarrhea In Dogs