Cooking is not something I do on a regular basis. Most of the time, if
I'm hungry, I'll do something with bagels or soup, or just go to the
handy-dandy gas station, about a mile away, that sells tasty hot dogs and huge cups of tea.
But I digress.
Today, I found myself making a large-scale meal: rice fried with chicken
and little chunks of egg. If I ever hosted a cooking show, it wouldn't
be to instruct people on how to make delicious meals - it would be
purely for the comedy that follows me when I set foot in a kitchen.
I spent what felt like half an hour picking apart what was left of a
chicken. I fear I would not be allowed to come near any restaurant's
kitchen, ever - I was a terrible, terrible, lazy chef. After
rinsing off my hands, with no towels (other than the one sitting on the
floor, soaked in homemade tea, which is a story for another time), I
used myself as one instead, and transferred most of the water to my
clothes.
The same problem arose when I got egg all over my hands, and my solution didn't change.
I'm so glad my slightly germaphobic little sister wasn't there to see it.
Anyway, the eggs took forever to scramble. They sat there for far
too long, all smug and runny, and when I got bored and fetched a book,
all of a sudden they were smoking and I spent the next few minutes
furiously stirring them with a spatula, attempting to keep them from
turning into a charred/runny mess.
Finally, though, I got them reasonably under control, and, since I
didn't remember how my father usually did the next part, I just dumped
in all the chicken and hoped for the best. I wanted to do the same with
the rice, but unfortunately, it had other ideas... It huddled in its pot
in a sticky mass, and didn't respond to my increasingly frantic
attempts to scrape it out. All I got for my efforts was a few little
lumps, and I was terrified that my other ingredients would begin to
burn.
Thinking fast, I turned the pot upside down, held it over the frying pan, and shook it as best I could (pots full of rice are heavy!).
All at once, it slithered out and fell in one clumped mass on the pan,
exactly the way it always comes out of those little take-away boxes they
give you at Chinese restaurants.
"YES! Who's a boss?" I cried. "I'm the boss!"
I sat there for a moment, looking at the mountain of rice.
"So... What now?"
The next few minutes were spent smashing it and cutting it with my
spatula, and then mixing the whole mess together. My arms were exhausted
(I have the upper body strength of a sickly hamster), but I was
triumphant. I'd cooked my very first family-sized meal!
Now I just have to figure out what I'll do tomorrow night...
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Blue Ridge, GA... Why are you so obsessed with bears?
This is a post I wrote several weeks ago, then forgot about. I figure I might as well post it now. Enjoy!
Today, Saturday (the older sister) decided we were going to have an Adventure. After a morning of math and Minecraft, we hopped in the car and drove an hour and a half into the mountains of Georgia. Our destination: Blue Ridge, chosen for its mountainous location and its reputed 'cute little downtown'.
I'd like to say that the trip was filled with witty banter, but alas, I have nothing all too humorous to report there. Here's our travel montage instead:
Weeeee are the CHAMPIONS, my friiiieeeends! Laaaaaa! Lalalalala! Lalalalala! Lalalalala! And there's a creepy doll! That always follows you! It's got a ruined eye, that's always! Open! And there's a creepy doll! That always follows you! It's got a pretty mouth... To SWALLOW. YOU WHOLE.
Finally, the car trip was over. We had reached Blue Ridge.
At first glance, it seemed to be a bit of a disappointment. There were a few buildings along the highway, but nothing like the nifty downtown area we'd been promised. We visited a local diner, then headed back to the car and made our way to a place called something along the lines of "Huck's Mine".
There was no mine.
Fortunately, there were several nifty shops, which we visited systematically. They weren't all that similar, except for one strange thing...
Bears.
All of them featured bears in some way.
This one had bear jewelry, that one had a few stuffed bears here and there, one place had some bear book-ends...
And one shop was devoted entirely to bears. Bearskins, teddy bears, bears statuettes, bear paintings, bear signs, bear cards - anything remotely bear-related that you could possibly ever want. It was an ursidaeophile's heaven. Tuesday (the younger sister) was convinced that the owner was the descendent of the witch from Brave.
I think everyone would be just fine with it if they renamed the town to "Bear". Not "Bear Ridge" or "Beartown" - just "Bear".
A few other highlights:
- One shop featured a display of poop, along with a sign that said "Our poop now costs a nickel. You can't buy _ _ _ _ that cheap!" (sic). Immaturely, I spent a solid minute giggling over that one.
Really, how many swear jokes do you expect to see in a small town in the deep south?
- In one antique store, a red-headed ventriloquist dummy was prominently displayed. That's not a legitimate purchase, Store Owner - that's the start of a horror movie.
Today, Saturday (the older sister) decided we were going to have an Adventure. After a morning of math and Minecraft, we hopped in the car and drove an hour and a half into the mountains of Georgia. Our destination: Blue Ridge, chosen for its mountainous location and its reputed 'cute little downtown'.
I'd like to say that the trip was filled with witty banter, but alas, I have nothing all too humorous to report there. Here's our travel montage instead:
Weeeee are the CHAMPIONS, my friiiieeeends! Laaaaaa! Lalalalala! Lalalalala! Lalalalala! And there's a creepy doll! That always follows you! It's got a ruined eye, that's always! Open! And there's a creepy doll! That always follows you! It's got a pretty mouth... To SWALLOW. YOU WHOLE.
Finally, the car trip was over. We had reached Blue Ridge.
At first glance, it seemed to be a bit of a disappointment. There were a few buildings along the highway, but nothing like the nifty downtown area we'd been promised. We visited a local diner, then headed back to the car and made our way to a place called something along the lines of "Huck's Mine".
There was no mine.
Fortunately, there were several nifty shops, which we visited systematically. They weren't all that similar, except for one strange thing...
Bears.
All of them featured bears in some way.
This one had bear jewelry, that one had a few stuffed bears here and there, one place had some bear book-ends...
And one shop was devoted entirely to bears. Bearskins, teddy bears, bears statuettes, bear paintings, bear signs, bear cards - anything remotely bear-related that you could possibly ever want. It was an ursidaeophile's heaven. Tuesday (the younger sister) was convinced that the owner was the descendent of the witch from Brave.
I think everyone would be just fine with it if they renamed the town to "Bear". Not "Bear Ridge" or "Beartown" - just "Bear".
A few other highlights:
- One shop featured a display of poop, along with a sign that said "Our poop now costs a nickel. You can't buy _ _ _ _ that cheap!" (sic). Immaturely, I spent a solid minute giggling over that one.
Really, how many swear jokes do you expect to see in a small town in the deep south?
- In one antique store, a red-headed ventriloquist dummy was prominently displayed. That's not a legitimate purchase, Store Owner - that's the start of a horror movie.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
When I get a phone, it'll be an iPhone. So there!
My older sister's Droid is out to kill me.
It sounds improbably, but it is completely (and horribly) true.
Here is my case against it:
Last year, I was staying with this sister (who we'll call 'Saturday', to protect her identity). We decided that we wanted to visit an amusement park, so she entered the request into her Droid, and we hopped into the car and took off.
It was a half-hour drive, and finally we arrived somewhere in the center of the downtown area. The Droid told us we had arrived, but when we looked around... No sign of an amusement park.
Well, we drove in circles for a little while, until we realized that the phone had brought us, not to an actual amusement park, but an ordinary sort of walking-around park in the downtown area. Nothing daunted, we found a parking spot and wandered off to explore.
While we were walking around, two separate creepy hobo (or hobo-like) guys wandered up and started talking to me, but they were easily dodged. We took pictures at several landmarks (including a monument to Truett Cathy <3), and then Saturday decided that we should explore the nearby campus. The streets around it were dark and kind of icky, and I (being much younger and more foolish one year ago) started to freak out. Finally, we went back to the car.
Saturday told the Droid to take us home. We started off, and made a turn...
And nearly smashed into another car, head-on (apply directly to the forehead!).
The Droid had tried to take us down a one-way street. The wrong way.
Not convinced yet?
Well, just a few months ago, Saturday, Tuesday (another sister) and I were riding on down the interstate. Saturday was pretty sure she knew the way, but she had her phone telling us what to do, just in case.
Suddenly, we hear the grating voice.
"Make - a U-turn."
All of us got a good laugh from that. Obviously, we weren't foolish enough to follow its advice.
Then, we hear it again.
"Make - a U-turn."
This was starting to get a little unnerving. A one-way road could have been a fluke, but how could it have been confused about whether or not one may simply make a U-turn on the interstate?
"Make - a U-turn."
No doubt about it. It was trying to kill us.
I've been told that it only does that when I'm in the car, which leads me to suspect that, for some reason, Google (or simply that particular Droid) wants me dead.
That's why I'm going to get an iPhone. I couldn't care less about peer pressure... But I'm not about to let myself get assassinated by a hunk of circuitry and plastic!
It sounds improbably, but it is completely (and horribly) true.
Here is my case against it:
Last year, I was staying with this sister (who we'll call 'Saturday', to protect her identity). We decided that we wanted to visit an amusement park, so she entered the request into her Droid, and we hopped into the car and took off.
It was a half-hour drive, and finally we arrived somewhere in the center of the downtown area. The Droid told us we had arrived, but when we looked around... No sign of an amusement park.
Well, we drove in circles for a little while, until we realized that the phone had brought us, not to an actual amusement park, but an ordinary sort of walking-around park in the downtown area. Nothing daunted, we found a parking spot and wandered off to explore.
While we were walking around, two separate creepy hobo (or hobo-like) guys wandered up and started talking to me, but they were easily dodged. We took pictures at several landmarks (including a monument to Truett Cathy <3), and then Saturday decided that we should explore the nearby campus. The streets around it were dark and kind of icky, and I (being much younger and more foolish one year ago) started to freak out. Finally, we went back to the car.
Saturday told the Droid to take us home. We started off, and made a turn...
And nearly smashed into another car, head-on (apply directly to the forehead!).
The Droid had tried to take us down a one-way street. The wrong way.
Not convinced yet?
Well, just a few months ago, Saturday, Tuesday (another sister) and I were riding on down the interstate. Saturday was pretty sure she knew the way, but she had her phone telling us what to do, just in case.
Suddenly, we hear the grating voice.
"Make - a U-turn."
All of us got a good laugh from that. Obviously, we weren't foolish enough to follow its advice.
Then, we hear it again.
"Make - a U-turn."
This was starting to get a little unnerving. A one-way road could have been a fluke, but how could it have been confused about whether or not one may simply make a U-turn on the interstate?
"Make - a U-turn."
No doubt about it. It was trying to kill us.
I've been told that it only does that when I'm in the car, which leads me to suspect that, for some reason, Google (or simply that particular Droid) wants me dead.
That's why I'm going to get an iPhone. I couldn't care less about peer pressure... But I'm not about to let myself get assassinated by a hunk of circuitry and plastic!
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Phobia time!
Some fears are easy to understand. For example, a fear of spiders is perfectly rational (they are ugly and creepy and will lay eggs in your mouth and there's a spider behind you RIGHT NOW). So's a fear of clowns (I've only read a plot summary of 'It', and I'm still scared of Pennywise), or a fear of heights (as long as by 'heights' you mean 'more than two feet off the ground').
There are other fears, however, that defy explanation. Fears that are completely, utterly irrational... And, what's more, absolutely ridiculous.
Here are some of my favorites:
Monday, July 23, 2012
The Hop 'n' Chop: World's worst battle tactic.
Skip to 1:45 for an example of the Terrible Hop 'n' Chop. Watch the rest for an example of terrible sword-fighting.
The Terrible Hop 'n' Chop: a favorite move of the Seeker, and often seen in other movies or shows that care more about spectacle than effectiveness. It's far more likely to injure you than your enemy, especially if your enemy has more sense than to stare in awe at your fantabulous jumping skills. Allow me to demonstrate with the help of hastily-constructed stick figures:
The jump:
Our hero scrambles up onto the nearest convenient log/staircase/tall rock. Then, with a mighty yell, he throws himself down upon his foe, sword raised on high for a single, terrible chop! With so much power behind it, surely this must be a brilliant move?
Unfortunately, no.
Even if your enemy is too slow-moving to get out of your way while you climb up on top of something and jump off, or too panicked to think of merely raising his sword a few feet, you'll come out of this jump with a lot of wasted energy and power. Sure, if you manage to hit him, you could probably chop him in half... But let me put it this way:
Would you?
I didn't think so.
Probable outcome:
Saturday, June 30, 2012
The scariest story ever
Wolves howled in the night.
A man with a goatee chuckled in a dark room.
Elsewhere, it was raining; lightning flashed, and thunder rolled in the hills.
A skull grinned as a raven perched on it.
A doll slooooowly turned its head and smiled, and its eyes were nothing but black sockets.
The man raised a knife above his head, and blood dripped from its blade.
A banshee wailed in the walls of an old, old house.
Smiling, the vampire advanced, its fangs glistening in the moonlight.
There was a child's quiet voice, eerily singing from the shadows.
Yellow eyes glowed in the darkness.
A music box plinked and plonked in a minor key.
The clown raised its rusty scalpel, baring sharp teeth in a satisfied smile as it reached for the young girl's eyes.
Twins.
The skeleton shifted.
Two shadows stretched away from Tommy, where there should only have been the one...
A rotting hand shoved its way out of the moist earth of the grave.
The mummy lurched forward.
The werewolf looked up from his gruesome feast.
A crypt door slooooowly creaked open...
The phone call was coming from inside the house.
And then...
THERE WAS A SPIDER.
A man with a goatee chuckled in a dark room.
Elsewhere, it was raining; lightning flashed, and thunder rolled in the hills.
A skull grinned as a raven perched on it.
A doll slooooowly turned its head and smiled, and its eyes were nothing but black sockets.
The man raised a knife above his head, and blood dripped from its blade.
A banshee wailed in the walls of an old, old house.
Smiling, the vampire advanced, its fangs glistening in the moonlight.
There was a child's quiet voice, eerily singing from the shadows.
Yellow eyes glowed in the darkness.
A music box plinked and plonked in a minor key.
The clown raised its rusty scalpel, baring sharp teeth in a satisfied smile as it reached for the young girl's eyes.
Twins.
The skeleton shifted.
Two shadows stretched away from Tommy, where there should only have been the one...
A rotting hand shoved its way out of the moist earth of the grave.
The mummy lurched forward.
The werewolf looked up from his gruesome feast.
A crypt door slooooowly creaked open...
The phone call was coming from inside the house.
And then...
THERE WAS A SPIDER.
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