Award-Winning Personality

Created with "Paint"

Today I went to Sears to return an iPod radio, as it was not compatible with the iPod Touch in my possession. (Apparently it stated such on the box when I bought it...but really, who actually reads that stuff?) I walk in the store, travel up the escalator, and get behind a lady who is making a purchase. Once she left, I walked up.

I had just gotten through the words, "Hi, I would like to make a return. This isn't compatible with my iPod..." when another, older women walked up. Her chin was strutted up and eyes turned downwards on me. Her shoulders were raised and hips were swinging with confidence. Shooting me a look—similar to how one would view an ant—she informed the man at the check-out, "Excuse me, I was first. I was waiting where people are supposed to be in line.

I could not believe her. She thought you were supposed to wait where nobody was instead of where someone was checking out? And she thought I was the idiot? How dense can you be?

"Well, you know this is a line too," I politely informed her.

She pushed her way in front of me and dramatically slammed her items down on the checkout counter. Continuing to view me like a bug, she said, "Well, the line next to here is the one you're meant  to use."

Perhaps she believed she was enlightening me with her wisdom. Perhaps she thought I would see her as an intelligent woman. Perhaps she thought I would see the error of my ways and aspire to be as genius as her. Perhaps she thought I would clap and give her a trophy for being such a smart person. I just thought she needed to be taught some common sense and manors.

I wasn't the only one who realized this. Sensing my agitation with her self-righteousness, the check-out man informed me that I could go over to electronics and return my item. I thanked him and left, my faith in society decreasing remarkably.

Baseball Practice

Baseball Made in "Paint"





     As a child, everyone decides what their sport will be. For me, it was baseball. It had nothing to do with any actual interest in the sport, just that my dad and little brother were into it. As a family, we would go to the elementary school's field and play mini games. This meant attempting to hit the ball with a bat and running to a sweater we used to represent first base. We never really got a home run since there was only two of us, but it just gave us something to do. The "three strikes, you're out" rule didn't exist, since neither my brother nor I were very good at hitting. We just kept swinging until the bat touched the baseball. That was enough to send us in to an excited sprint.

     One day, my friend Anna came over to my house for a play date. My brother had just gotten a new metal baseball bat, and I wanted to try it out. She and I decided we would take turns hitting the ball as my mom pitched it to us. When it was my turn, I lost focus of everything that was around me. The baseball was the only thing I was going to concentrate on. When I went to swing, I realized that Anna was right behind me. This wouldn't be a bad thing, except that I discovered this after moving my bat back and hitting her on the forehead.

     Although I wasn't the strongest kid in the world, the bat was metal. Regardless of how hard it hit, that was going to do some damage. On her forehead was a forming lump which swelled to about the size of a large grape. It was bruising around the sides, but was also a very distinct red.

     My mom rushed over, worried that I had given her a concussion. Anna assured her she was fine, but my mom still insisted on an ice back. I apologized to her, but she still gave me a load-full of words. I felt immensely guilty, especially when her mother came to pick her up and saw the giant lump on her forehead.

     To this day, she still likes to remind me of this, though it is more of a joke now.

How To Make Spaghetti

 Step One: Gathering Supplies

Discover that most recipes call for semolina flour. Gather 3 1/2 cups of regular, all-purpose flour instead. Pull four eggs out of the fridge. Get out a large cutting board and place it on the counter, along with a whisk. Perfecto!

Step Two: Set Up Your Area

Place the flour in a large pile on the board. Make a dent in the middle. Crack the eggs and place them in the middle. Pick out the egg shell fragments you carelessly allowed to fall in--we all know they're in there.
Now grab your whisk and prepare for duty!

Step Three: Mix It All Together

Whisk the eggs in the center, slowly drawing up the flour. On the Cooking Channel, they make this look easy. Don't be fooled! You will notice that as your flour barrier recedes, the eggs find a way to escape their prison. At this point, it is safe to compare your spaghetti dough to a volcanic eruption. The dirt (flour) crumples away as the lava (eggs) pour down the sides and destroy all in their path (your nice clean counter).
Realizing the lava is about to drip off the edge, you throw the whisk into the sink and attempt to scoop your concoction back onto the cutting board and mix it around by hand. Now you are worried that you lost too much egg in the explosion and decide if your dough will ever turn out right, you need to add another one.
Once the ingredients are beginning to mix, you discover you really didn't need that extra egg and add more flour, hoping it will all even out.

Step Four: What's The Point?

Nothing seems to be mixing together, and the whole ordeal is beginning to seem rather pointless. You begin to question whether or not all this work and fail is really worth the outcome--crappy spaghetti. You are certain it won't come out right, so why bother?

Step Five: Your Mother Finds You

Since you had the initiative to begin this quest by yourself, it was only a matter of time before your mother walks into the kitchen, questioning the scene in front of her. Using the wisdom of age, she pulls out a Mix Master, which kneads the dough in a matter of minutes, doing a far better job than you ever could. Mothers definitely posses far more knowledge than you could ever attain during your adolescence. Once this is done, put it back on the cutting board, throw a dish towel over it, and watch a rerun of Doctor Who while it sets.

Step Six: Flattening

Now that it has set, it's time to flatten it out so it will go through the little pasta making gadget you found at your grandparent's house, covered in grime (which, if you haven't already, you need to clean off). All you need to do when flattening it, is press it down. Now take a nice sharp knife and cut the dough into chunks. Reapply flour to these chunks. Now flatten them out more with the doo-dad you found to make pasta. Since you covered these chunks in flour, they will be very resistant to being put through the device. You need to press it in with one hand, while cranking it in through the other. Repeat this for all chunks of dough. Repeat this again for all chunks of dough. Now do this one more time to make sure they are all nice and flat.

Step Seven: Shaping

Forget to reapply flour. Take your flat chunks and put them through the gadget again, this time in the section that cuts them up into spaghetti. Place these pieces in a bowl and let them sit until you feel like eating. During this time, they will clump together, undesirably.

Step Eight: Cooking and Preparing

Boil water and add some salt. Pour clumped spaghetti in. Cook until al dente. In a separate pan, cook spaghetti sauce. Once the pasta is done, drain the water out and put some on a plate for yourself. Pour on some sauce and add some parmesan cheese.

Step Nine: Paaaastaaaaa!!!

Take a careful bit of your noodles, and quickly discover you added a little too much egg. Decide this makes them takes Asian. Eat the rest cheerfully, taking pride in your clumpy pasta.