It's been a rather long time since I last posted. I could fill hundreds of hundreds of pages with the adventures I've been on in the past two years, and someday I may just do that. But for now, I'll give you the short update for short attention spans.
I graduated college. I moved to Florida. I married the love of my life. I became a mother to a bouncy, chattery, absolutely perfect 5 year old. I moved back to the edge of Georgia and I got a dog and I moved my two cats out of the only home they've ever known and into the house with the bouncy 5 year old and the dog and the man with big stompy feet that terrifies my cats..
All of these drastic changes in such a short time period has been interesting to adjust to, to say the least. I went from being a single college girl to being a full-time Mama, but if you can believe it, that was actually the easiest adjustment. Oh yes, 5 year olds and college students are very similar indeed. I have had a lot of practice over my last four years at UGA saying the phrases "Please don't throw up on the rug," "The bathroom is right there," "Crayons are not supposed to go in your mouth," "If you fall asleep chewing that gum, you will get it in your hair," and "Do not play with the electrical socket." Another strikingly similar aspect between 5 year olds and college students is the food they consider to be essential food groups. Both will eat pizza until they barf just so they can eat more pizza twenty minutes later. They scoff at the idea of water and will try to sneak as many sugary, caffeinated drinks as they can. Burping and farting are also the same level of hilarity to both 5 year olds and college students. They're practically the same creature.
Which brings me to the part of parenthood I was least prepared for-- the weirdness. My daughter will occasionally come out with the absolute craziest nonsense I have ever heard in my life, and I went to a liberal college.
This has sparked a long running joke between my husband and I: Who Said It? A Drunk College Kid Or A Five Year Old?
He will come home from work and I'll spout off the day's quote, and he has to figure out if I'm recalling it from my college memories or if it was something that was actually said to me during our daily activities. Sometimes he gets them right. But sometimes it's impossible to tell. Now you get to join in the fun!
Read the quotations below and see if you can figure it out! Answers below the cut.
1) "You... You look like a bird in the sun."
2) "Look at those. Look at those wild vines growing out of your head."
3) "Have you ever eaten a pinecone?"
4) "Are we waffles?"
5) "What's your favorite song? Mine's Life."
6) "If I close my eyes, I know that I am truly the Master of this place."
7) "Your eyes are so green... like sapphires!"
8) "Oh no! What happened? I can't see your beautiful face."
9) "Oh man! I forgot how to read!"
10) "This is disgusting. I won't eat it!" *food is covered in ketchup* "Hey! It's my favorite food!"
____________________________________________________________________
Are you ready for the answers?
1) This was my daughter, deep in thought after my husband asked her what she was looking at.
2) This was my daughter this morning as I was brushing my hair.
3) This was a college friend of mine who had gotten a little, ah, inebriated at a party. He then took a bite of the pinecone he was holding and I had to snatch it away and say "Don't eat that!"
4) This was my daughter. She looked at me with a deadly serious face. I was stunned for a moment, and then said "What if we were? Would our blood be maple syrup?" She nodded solemnly at me and then I plunked her in the bathtub.
5) This was a poor attempt at picking me up in a bar.
6) This was my daughter upon trying to beat the boss of a temple in the Legend of Zelda. She calls the bosses "Masters" and she was giving herself a pep talk by reminding herself that she is the true Master. I walked in for the last bit.
7) This was another poor attempt at picking me up in a bar.
8) This was my daughter after I accidentally leaned on the lights in the bathroom, shutting them off.
9) This was another inebriated friend when he was trying to figure out how much alcohol content was in his new drink.
10) Trick question! This is both!! It's amazing what both kids and college students will eat once it's drowned in tomato blood. Gross.
______________________________________________________________________
It's astounding sometimes what her brain comes up with and her mouth comes out with, but keeping me on my toes is just one of the things I love most about her. I remember having a conversation with my favorite professor a couple of years ago about how I was so afraid that I would have dull kids. He assured me I would not have dull kids, and then he said "Kids are only dull when you force them to be." My daughter is the brightest, funniest, and definitely the most entertaining kid I have ever met, and I can't wait to watch her grow into a bright, funny, entertaining adult. Until then, I'll savor the years I have, and I think I'll keep a complete record of all the crazy things she decides to spout out so that I can remind her of all of it at a most convenient time for me. Oh, say... her high school graduation, maybe.
I'm evil. But that's the adjective I was most looking forward becoming as a parent. Mwahaha.
-SM
Monday, December 2, 2013
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Lord of the Flys
Lord of the Flys
I sat next to a very nice girl and her guide-dog in training on the bus today. We chatted for a little bit about her Poodle, and I showed her my super-cool Great Dane that I have on Nintendogs. I could tell she was jealous that I only have to pick up virtual poop from my pooch. My bus route takes me all the way from Gilbert Hall back to East Campus Parking Deck, so I had about a 20 minute ride ahead of me. I stretched for a moment when the nice girl calmly pointed out a tiny embarrassing detail to me: "Your fly is undone."
"Thanks," I said, reaching to zip it up.
I fumbled around with the gap in my jeans for a moment, sure that I was just missing the zipper pull by a few millimeters, but after a few seconds of frenzied grabs, I tossed my books into the lap of my riding buddy and began to examine my situation a little more closely.
"Oh God," I breathed in horror. My riding buddy took a curious peek over at the situation and then gasped as well. There was no zipper there for me to pull.
My fly had not come unzipped. My fly had come UNSEWN.
"Oh man." My riding buddy said nervously as she glanced around to see if anyone was watching as I desperately began clawing at my exposed crotch. "Do you have any safety pins?"
"No," I moaned. "I don't even have a jacket."
"Uh..." My riding buddy thought for a moment, scanning the crowd. "Tape? Paper clips? Anything?"
"Nope." I said grimly. The bus was approaching my final stop. I had to think of a plan, and fast.
The bus stopped, and as I stood up, my situation worsened. My fly ripped all the way from the waist of my jeans down to the leg, leaving a massive hole exposing the entire front of my bright pink underwear. It was every middle schooler's nightmare come to life--I was standing in front of all of my college peers in my underwear. My bright pink underwear.
"Holy--" My riding buddy was mortified for me. "Quick, pull your shirt down over it."
It was no use. I couldn't hold my shirt down over my ripped fly and hold my books at the same time. And Riding Buddy couldn't hold my books and her dog at the same time. I had a few panicked moments of "what am I going to do whatamIgoingtodo WHATAMIGOINGTODO?!?!"
A ray of sun broke through the clouds above and gave me the perfect spotlight as the dramatic realization of what I must do washed over me. I must own this.
I straightened up. I tossed my hair. I held my head high and proud and I strutted all the way back to my car, pink panties a-blowin' in the breeze. People stared, and I just marched right on. That's right, SM Kuzy made sure the entire world knew that her give-a-damn was busted and she strutted her exposed ass all the way through the campus quad, up three flights of stairs, and through the labyrinth of the parking deck before she made it to the car.
I didn't really get to inspect the damage until I got home, but good Lord, it was bad. The pants are probably not salvageable, and there's now probably a million pictures of my crotch all over everyone's camera phones. When I become a famous author, this will probably come back to bite me in the (exposed) ass, but I do have one small victory to celebrate today. When the unspeakable happened, I carried on with as much dignity as I could keep from swooshing out between my legs. All in all, the lesson learned is that if you can't avoid your fate, you might as well stand up proud and own it for what it is. After all, it's the only way you can win.
I am reminded of a Harry Potter Quote from Book 6.
"It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew - and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents - that there was all the difference in the world.”-JKR, HBP
My head and crotch are held high. Are yours?
I sat next to a very nice girl and her guide-dog in training on the bus today. We chatted for a little bit about her Poodle, and I showed her my super-cool Great Dane that I have on Nintendogs. I could tell she was jealous that I only have to pick up virtual poop from my pooch. My bus route takes me all the way from Gilbert Hall back to East Campus Parking Deck, so I had about a 20 minute ride ahead of me. I stretched for a moment when the nice girl calmly pointed out a tiny embarrassing detail to me: "Your fly is undone."
"Thanks," I said, reaching to zip it up.
I fumbled around with the gap in my jeans for a moment, sure that I was just missing the zipper pull by a few millimeters, but after a few seconds of frenzied grabs, I tossed my books into the lap of my riding buddy and began to examine my situation a little more closely.
"Oh God," I breathed in horror. My riding buddy took a curious peek over at the situation and then gasped as well. There was no zipper there for me to pull.
My fly had not come unzipped. My fly had come UNSEWN.
"Oh man." My riding buddy said nervously as she glanced around to see if anyone was watching as I desperately began clawing at my exposed crotch. "Do you have any safety pins?"
"No," I moaned. "I don't even have a jacket."
"Uh..." My riding buddy thought for a moment, scanning the crowd. "Tape? Paper clips? Anything?"
"Nope." I said grimly. The bus was approaching my final stop. I had to think of a plan, and fast.
The bus stopped, and as I stood up, my situation worsened. My fly ripped all the way from the waist of my jeans down to the leg, leaving a massive hole exposing the entire front of my bright pink underwear. It was every middle schooler's nightmare come to life--I was standing in front of all of my college peers in my underwear. My bright pink underwear.
"Holy--" My riding buddy was mortified for me. "Quick, pull your shirt down over it."
It was no use. I couldn't hold my shirt down over my ripped fly and hold my books at the same time. And Riding Buddy couldn't hold my books and her dog at the same time. I had a few panicked moments of "what am I going to do whatamIgoingtodo WHATAMIGOINGTODO?!?!"
A ray of sun broke through the clouds above and gave me the perfect spotlight as the dramatic realization of what I must do washed over me. I must own this.
I straightened up. I tossed my hair. I held my head high and proud and I strutted all the way back to my car, pink panties a-blowin' in the breeze. People stared, and I just marched right on. That's right, SM Kuzy made sure the entire world knew that her give-a-damn was busted and she strutted her exposed ass all the way through the campus quad, up three flights of stairs, and through the labyrinth of the parking deck before she made it to the car.
I didn't really get to inspect the damage until I got home, but good Lord, it was bad. The pants are probably not salvageable, and there's now probably a million pictures of my crotch all over everyone's camera phones. When I become a famous author, this will probably come back to bite me in the (exposed) ass, but I do have one small victory to celebrate today. When the unspeakable happened, I carried on with as much dignity as I could keep from swooshing out between my legs. All in all, the lesson learned is that if you can't avoid your fate, you might as well stand up proud and own it for what it is. After all, it's the only way you can win.
I am reminded of a Harry Potter Quote from Book 6.
"It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew - and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents - that there was all the difference in the world.”-JKR, HBP
My head and crotch are held high. Are yours?
Friday, July 29, 2011
SM Suvives the Spider Apocalypse
Last night may or may not have been one of the most horrifying nights of my life. If there had been video cameras around, I'm sure I could have sold the footage to Hollywood and made millions of dollars off of my misfortune; unfortunately, life doesn't work that way for me, and all I have left to recount my chilling tale is this blog. So here it is, the uncut, unrated version. Read at your own risk; not recommended for anyone with a weak stomach or an acute case of arachnaphobia.
SM Survives the Spider Apocalypse
It was late, or perhaps it was very early. It was the twilight between the two; that is to say, if I had just awoken at this hour, I could have called it "early", but since it was a matter of I had not yet been to sleep, it is safe to call it "late."
I was lying awake in the least noble manner. I was not gazing at the stars, contemplating eternity or life merit, I was not pouring over my novel that I have severely neglected, and I was not even reading or doing some other scholarly activity. I was talking on the phone. To a Boy, no less.
So there I was, chatting, rambling on about something insignificant, waiting for Boy to respond, when all of a sudden... THE MONSTER APPEARED.
It was like no other spider I had ever seen. It was at least the size of my face. Okay, maybe that's a tiny exaggeration, but with all kidding aside, it had to have been the size of my palm. It had a huge engorged middle and I could see its eyes from where I was sitting all the way over on the couch. A normal person might have said "Hold on one second for me, will you, Boy? There is an arachnid in my presence."
Instead, I so elegantly shrieked: "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! #$%$ WHAT THE #%@% HUGE #$@^%$ SPIDER!!!!! @##%$% WHAT THE $%^%# AM I GOING TO DO?! WHAT DO I DO?!!? ^&*%*#$* #^#$%#@% $%^&!!!!!"
"Are you okay?" Boy asked in concern. "What just happened?"
I held the telephone loosely at my ear, staring intently at the monstrosity before me. I was frozen. The very first law of Everything Scary That Ever Existed is that if you remain perfectly still, whatever is hunting you cannot see you. I was so still that I'm not even sure my heart was still beating. I stared the monster down, every muscle in my body perfectly frozen. I was not about to be a victim.
Suddenly, Baby Cat came shooting across the floor. The acromantula braced itself, but Baby Cat collided with it spectacularly, seizing it with his paws and flinging it up into the air. I shrieked again, possibly permanently deafening Boy. "GET IT! KILL IT!" I bellowed, running forward to see if Baby Cat had successfully killed the beast for me, his loving master. I was already envisioning a grand feast of Tuna Fish and Pounce Kitty Treats for Baby Cat, the Slayer of Tarantulas.
Baby Cat was still squirming around with the beast under his paws. When I approached him, he cocked his head sideways at me, looked at me with those big yellow eyes that bear absolutely no signs of intelligence whatsoever, then flung the spider at me gleefully.
"^%&*$$ %$*$ $%%*$^&* #$&**^&*!!!!!!!!!" I let out a consistent stream of profanity as I fell to the floor, desperately clawing my way away from the spider. "What's going on?" Boy cried in concern. "Are you alright? What's happening to you!?"
Baby Cat had pounced on the spider again, and I had to take a double take as it appeared that the entire middle had fallen off of the beast. "Nothing," I panted heavily, trying to regain my composure. "I'm fine. There's... there's a..."
My quavering voice trailed off as I realized in horror what I had seen a few seconds earlier. What I thought was a piece of carnage from the epic battle of Baby Cat and the Largest Spider In The World was actually...
AN EGG SAC.
Before my eyes, hundreds and hundreds of baby spiders came pouring out of the dislodged egg sac and started to run over the carpet. I let out a wail unmatched in agony by any other human sound ever made and started to cry. "Bumbling mother danging cruxing ducksing rhombuses!" I sobbed, unable to even form coherent curse words anymore. "What-wh-what what am I- what-wh-WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!?!?"
"What's going on? What's happened?!" Boy said urgently. "Are you alright?"
The baby spiders were going everywhere. They ran up Baby Cat's tail. They were scattering before my eyes as I grabbed a bottle of hairspray and attempted to spray them to death. Meanwhile, Baby Cat had chased the Mother Beast under the entertainment system and was now desperately trying to fit his big butt under the system to continue pursuing it. The hairspray didn't appear to be killing the babies, but they were slowing down. I continued to sob as though my life were over.
"Babies! Babies everywhere!" I sobbed to Boy, who pieced together what was going on.
"Try the vacuum?" He suggested.
I made a mad dash for the utility closet and grabbed the vacuum. I plugged that sucker in and vacuumed up all those babies. "NOT TODAY, SPIDERS!" I bellowed, running the vacuum over them at least fifty times. "NOT ON MY WATCH!"
"Get 'em!" Boy urged. "You can do it!"
I grabbed Baby Cat and, much to his displeasure, ran the cat brush over his back legs and tail until I had pulled off some more babies and then I vacuumed THOSE up as well. Boy was a genius; the vacuum proved to be the absolute best weapon I could have hoped for to wage war on the hideous creatures, and after a few minutes, with the exception of the tarantula under the entertainment system, I felt confident that I had wiped out all the spiders.
Baby Cat continued to watch the entertainment system like a hawk and I let out a shaking sigh of relief as I collapsed on the couch again.
"I got 'em." I said weakly into the phone. "I did it."
"I'm proud of you." Boy said grandly.
Shortly after that we both decided to go to bed, but I laid awake for hours scratching my skin all over, sure that I could feel those tiny little spiders crawling all over my body. However, there was one burning emotion inside of me that was greater than even my fear of the ghost spiders--the knowledge that I had won, I had beaten the monsters, and that I had protected my household for one more night.
Washing my own dishes, doing my own laundry, and now killing my own spiders. Who knows? Maybe I'm almost a real adult after all.
SM Survives the Spider Apocalypse
It was late, or perhaps it was very early. It was the twilight between the two; that is to say, if I had just awoken at this hour, I could have called it "early", but since it was a matter of I had not yet been to sleep, it is safe to call it "late."
I was lying awake in the least noble manner. I was not gazing at the stars, contemplating eternity or life merit, I was not pouring over my novel that I have severely neglected, and I was not even reading or doing some other scholarly activity. I was talking on the phone. To a Boy, no less.
So there I was, chatting, rambling on about something insignificant, waiting for Boy to respond, when all of a sudden... THE MONSTER APPEARED.
It was like no other spider I had ever seen. It was at least the size of my face. Okay, maybe that's a tiny exaggeration, but with all kidding aside, it had to have been the size of my palm. It had a huge engorged middle and I could see its eyes from where I was sitting all the way over on the couch. A normal person might have said "Hold on one second for me, will you, Boy? There is an arachnid in my presence."
Instead, I so elegantly shrieked: "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! #$%$ WHAT THE #%@% HUGE #$@^%$ SPIDER!!!!! @##%$% WHAT THE $%^%# AM I GOING TO DO?! WHAT DO I DO?!!? ^&*%*#$* #^#$%#@% $%^&!!!!!"
"Are you okay?" Boy asked in concern. "What just happened?"
I held the telephone loosely at my ear, staring intently at the monstrosity before me. I was frozen. The very first law of Everything Scary That Ever Existed is that if you remain perfectly still, whatever is hunting you cannot see you. I was so still that I'm not even sure my heart was still beating. I stared the monster down, every muscle in my body perfectly frozen. I was not about to be a victim.
Suddenly, Baby Cat came shooting across the floor. The acromantula braced itself, but Baby Cat collided with it spectacularly, seizing it with his paws and flinging it up into the air. I shrieked again, possibly permanently deafening Boy. "GET IT! KILL IT!" I bellowed, running forward to see if Baby Cat had successfully killed the beast for me, his loving master. I was already envisioning a grand feast of Tuna Fish and Pounce Kitty Treats for Baby Cat, the Slayer of Tarantulas.
Baby Cat was still squirming around with the beast under his paws. When I approached him, he cocked his head sideways at me, looked at me with those big yellow eyes that bear absolutely no signs of intelligence whatsoever, then flung the spider at me gleefully.
"^%&*$$ %$*$ $%%*$^&* #$&**^&*!!!!!!!!!" I let out a consistent stream of profanity as I fell to the floor, desperately clawing my way away from the spider. "What's going on?" Boy cried in concern. "Are you alright? What's happening to you!?"
Baby Cat had pounced on the spider again, and I had to take a double take as it appeared that the entire middle had fallen off of the beast. "Nothing," I panted heavily, trying to regain my composure. "I'm fine. There's... there's a..."
My quavering voice trailed off as I realized in horror what I had seen a few seconds earlier. What I thought was a piece of carnage from the epic battle of Baby Cat and the Largest Spider In The World was actually...
AN EGG SAC.
Before my eyes, hundreds and hundreds of baby spiders came pouring out of the dislodged egg sac and started to run over the carpet. I let out a wail unmatched in agony by any other human sound ever made and started to cry. "Bumbling mother danging cruxing ducksing rhombuses!" I sobbed, unable to even form coherent curse words anymore. "What-wh-what what am I- what-wh-WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!?!?"
"What's going on? What's happened?!" Boy said urgently. "Are you alright?"
The baby spiders were going everywhere. They ran up Baby Cat's tail. They were scattering before my eyes as I grabbed a bottle of hairspray and attempted to spray them to death. Meanwhile, Baby Cat had chased the Mother Beast under the entertainment system and was now desperately trying to fit his big butt under the system to continue pursuing it. The hairspray didn't appear to be killing the babies, but they were slowing down. I continued to sob as though my life were over.
"Babies! Babies everywhere!" I sobbed to Boy, who pieced together what was going on.
"Try the vacuum?" He suggested.
I made a mad dash for the utility closet and grabbed the vacuum. I plugged that sucker in and vacuumed up all those babies. "NOT TODAY, SPIDERS!" I bellowed, running the vacuum over them at least fifty times. "NOT ON MY WATCH!"
"Get 'em!" Boy urged. "You can do it!"
I grabbed Baby Cat and, much to his displeasure, ran the cat brush over his back legs and tail until I had pulled off some more babies and then I vacuumed THOSE up as well. Boy was a genius; the vacuum proved to be the absolute best weapon I could have hoped for to wage war on the hideous creatures, and after a few minutes, with the exception of the tarantula under the entertainment system, I felt confident that I had wiped out all the spiders.
Baby Cat continued to watch the entertainment system like a hawk and I let out a shaking sigh of relief as I collapsed on the couch again.
"I got 'em." I said weakly into the phone. "I did it."
"I'm proud of you." Boy said grandly.
Shortly after that we both decided to go to bed, but I laid awake for hours scratching my skin all over, sure that I could feel those tiny little spiders crawling all over my body. However, there was one burning emotion inside of me that was greater than even my fear of the ghost spiders--the knowledge that I had won, I had beaten the monsters, and that I had protected my household for one more night.
Washing my own dishes, doing my own laundry, and now killing my own spiders. Who knows? Maybe I'm almost a real adult after all.
Monday, June 27, 2011
SM Gets Trolled in Real Life by her "Loving Cousins"
People always ask me what my worst memory is. Well, my worst memory was brought about by my supposedly "loving" cousins and one exceedingly cruel uncle of mine when I was eleven years old visiting my grandmother in a little neighborhood in Huntsville, Alabama.
This story really doesn't need any more introduction than that.
SM Gets Trolled in Real Life by her "Loving Cousins"
It was a crisp fall afternoon. The leaves had fallen, and my grandfather had slaved away to make perfect leaf piles in the yard, so of course my cousins and I showed our gratitude to him by taking flying leaps into them, scattering the leaves everywhere. I was happily tossing handfuls of dried-out maple leaves into the air like confetti when I heard the one sound that every child goes absolutely insane for--the sweet, harmonious tinkle of the fabled Ice Cream Truck.
"ICE CREAM!!!!!" I bellowed, running around in circles like a maniac. My cousins stopped throwing leaves at each other and cocked their heads, listening intently. I proceeded to burst in through the back door of my grandparents' house and run through the kitchen screaming "THE ICE CREAM TRUCK IS COMING! THE ICE CREAM TRUCK IS COMING!" Like a modern day Paul Revere until my dad finally caught me and handed me a five and told me to "share with my cousins."
I was ecstatic. I could hardly contain myself. The ice cream truck was coming. I ran back outside to where my cousins had resumed throwing leaves at each other.
"Hey guys!" I panted, extending my hand to show them the wealth I had accumulated. "Daddy gave me some money. We can all get ice cream when the truck pulls up."
My cousins exchanged blank looks. "What are you talking about?" They asked.
I rolled my eyes. Boys could be so difficult sometimes. "The ice cream truck, duh," I said. "Did you already forget about it that quick?"
My cousins shared another look. "What ice cream truck?" They asked quizzically.
"The one that--" I began, but I stopped short at the sound of the faint music-box melody drifting over to my ears again. "That one! That ice cream truck! Don't you hear it? It's getting closer!"
My cousins shook their heads. "We don't hear it, SM." they said, looking at me with slight concern. "Are you sure you hear one?"
"Yes!" I said impatiently. "Now come on, we have to go meet it at the bottom of the street!" I grabbed one of my cousin's arms and attempted to pull him with me.
He grabbed me with his free arm and held me back. "Come ON!" I insisted, but he shook his head.
"SM, I don't think there's an ice cream truck!" He said worriedly. I looked at my other cousin. He looked grim.
"What is your problem?!" I asked, completely bewildered. The tinkling music was getting louder by the minute. "You hear it, I know you hear it!"
My cousins shared a concerned look. "SM, there isn't any music. We don't hear an ice cream truck." They said, looking very upset. "Maybe you're too hot. Do you want to go inside?"
"No, I do not want to go inside!" I said angrily, jerking my hand out of their grasp. I realized my cousins were trying to play some sort of trick on me to make me think that I was going crazy. This irritated me, so I threw out the biggest ultimatum any kid at that age could possibly muster: "If you want to keep playing this crazy game, then fine. I will spend all the money on myself and that means more ice cream for me."
Contrary to the immediate apologies and groveling I expected from my cousins, however, I was only met with an extremely worried look. I stood, bewildered, at my cousins' reactions. It wasn't like them to keep a joke going this long even under threat of no ice cream...
The music was so loud now that I was sure the ice cream truck would be at my grandparents' driveway in minutes. "Listen!" I said urgently, dragging my cousins over to the side yard. "I know you can hear that!"
"We've got to get her inside," One of my cousins said to the other in a scared voice. "She's really losing it. Do you think it's a heat stroke?"
"I don't know," The other one said darkly. "Maybe she's got a fever and is delirious. Get her, let's get her inside."
For the first time, a feeling of fear started to rise in my chest. The way my cousins were talking about me indicated that there was something seriously wrong with me. Could it be that they weren't merely playing a joke on me and there actually WAS a problem? While I was debating this possibility, I saw my uncle's car pull into the bottom of the driveway, and immediately behind him followed... THE ICE CREAM TRUCK.
"IT'S REAL!" I shrieked, dashing towards the bottom of the driveway, waving my five dollar bill madly in the air. "I TOLD YOU! I KNEW YOU WERE JOKING!"
My uncle had started to climb out of his car and looked extremely confused as to why his young niece was dashing at him at full speed.
"GET OUT OF THE WAY, UNCLE!" I cried joyfully. "YOU'RE IN FRONT OF THE ICE CREAM TRUCK!"
A look of serious concern and shock appeared on my uncle's face as he looked straight at me, and without even turning around asked "What ice cream truck?"
I fell to the ground. That was it. I lost it. I was insane. My cousins were right, I had hallucinated the entire thing. I burst into tears right then and there, and instantly my uncle dropped to my side with "Ohhhhh, SM, S-baby, I'm so so sorry sweetie! It was a joke! I know it's there! It's really there! I was just teasing you! Oh poor baby..."
Turns out, my cousins had taken advantage of my sprint to the ice cream truck to make frantic motions behind my back towards my uncle who correctly interpreted their desperate signs to continue the joke. He played along with them at the last minute, but unfortunately, that was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was hysterical.
My uncle managed to calm me down long enough to buy me some ice cream, but even as I sat in the shadowy living room in my grandparents' house, my cousins knew the damage went too far. I was scarred. I sat motionless on the beige couch, licking my Batman Ice Cream unenthusiastically, a blank stare on my face. My reality had been shattered. Sure, I had the ice cream in my hands, but who's to say that it was real? How could I ever know if anything was real anymore? How could I ever be sure I wasn't just living in a delirious fantasy?
My cousins tried to get me to play Duck Hunt with them, but not even electronically massacring farm fowl could cheer me up. I was a ruined child. For the rest of my life, I would never REALLY be sure of reality.
Maybe I'm not really typing this right now. Maybe I'm really an 11-year-old in a straightjacket, rocking back and forth in a secure, padded facility somewhere chanting "The ice cream is coming... the ice cream is coming..."
Maybe YOU'RE not really reading this right now?? Hmm??? HMMM???
This story really doesn't need any more introduction than that.
SM Gets Trolled in Real Life by her "Loving Cousins"
It was a crisp fall afternoon. The leaves had fallen, and my grandfather had slaved away to make perfect leaf piles in the yard, so of course my cousins and I showed our gratitude to him by taking flying leaps into them, scattering the leaves everywhere. I was happily tossing handfuls of dried-out maple leaves into the air like confetti when I heard the one sound that every child goes absolutely insane for--the sweet, harmonious tinkle of the fabled Ice Cream Truck.
"ICE CREAM!!!!!" I bellowed, running around in circles like a maniac. My cousins stopped throwing leaves at each other and cocked their heads, listening intently. I proceeded to burst in through the back door of my grandparents' house and run through the kitchen screaming "THE ICE CREAM TRUCK IS COMING! THE ICE CREAM TRUCK IS COMING!" Like a modern day Paul Revere until my dad finally caught me and handed me a five and told me to "share with my cousins."
I was ecstatic. I could hardly contain myself. The ice cream truck was coming. I ran back outside to where my cousins had resumed throwing leaves at each other.
"Hey guys!" I panted, extending my hand to show them the wealth I had accumulated. "Daddy gave me some money. We can all get ice cream when the truck pulls up."
My cousins exchanged blank looks. "What are you talking about?" They asked.
I rolled my eyes. Boys could be so difficult sometimes. "The ice cream truck, duh," I said. "Did you already forget about it that quick?"
My cousins shared another look. "What ice cream truck?" They asked quizzically.
"The one that--" I began, but I stopped short at the sound of the faint music-box melody drifting over to my ears again. "That one! That ice cream truck! Don't you hear it? It's getting closer!"
My cousins shook their heads. "We don't hear it, SM." they said, looking at me with slight concern. "Are you sure you hear one?"
"Yes!" I said impatiently. "Now come on, we have to go meet it at the bottom of the street!" I grabbed one of my cousin's arms and attempted to pull him with me.
He grabbed me with his free arm and held me back. "Come ON!" I insisted, but he shook his head.
"SM, I don't think there's an ice cream truck!" He said worriedly. I looked at my other cousin. He looked grim.
"What is your problem?!" I asked, completely bewildered. The tinkling music was getting louder by the minute. "You hear it, I know you hear it!"
My cousins shared a concerned look. "SM, there isn't any music. We don't hear an ice cream truck." They said, looking very upset. "Maybe you're too hot. Do you want to go inside?"
"No, I do not want to go inside!" I said angrily, jerking my hand out of their grasp. I realized my cousins were trying to play some sort of trick on me to make me think that I was going crazy. This irritated me, so I threw out the biggest ultimatum any kid at that age could possibly muster: "If you want to keep playing this crazy game, then fine. I will spend all the money on myself and that means more ice cream for me."
Contrary to the immediate apologies and groveling I expected from my cousins, however, I was only met with an extremely worried look. I stood, bewildered, at my cousins' reactions. It wasn't like them to keep a joke going this long even under threat of no ice cream...
The music was so loud now that I was sure the ice cream truck would be at my grandparents' driveway in minutes. "Listen!" I said urgently, dragging my cousins over to the side yard. "I know you can hear that!"
"We've got to get her inside," One of my cousins said to the other in a scared voice. "She's really losing it. Do you think it's a heat stroke?"
"I don't know," The other one said darkly. "Maybe she's got a fever and is delirious. Get her, let's get her inside."
For the first time, a feeling of fear started to rise in my chest. The way my cousins were talking about me indicated that there was something seriously wrong with me. Could it be that they weren't merely playing a joke on me and there actually WAS a problem? While I was debating this possibility, I saw my uncle's car pull into the bottom of the driveway, and immediately behind him followed... THE ICE CREAM TRUCK.
"IT'S REAL!" I shrieked, dashing towards the bottom of the driveway, waving my five dollar bill madly in the air. "I TOLD YOU! I KNEW YOU WERE JOKING!"
My uncle had started to climb out of his car and looked extremely confused as to why his young niece was dashing at him at full speed.
"GET OUT OF THE WAY, UNCLE!" I cried joyfully. "YOU'RE IN FRONT OF THE ICE CREAM TRUCK!"
A look of serious concern and shock appeared on my uncle's face as he looked straight at me, and without even turning around asked "What ice cream truck?"
I fell to the ground. That was it. I lost it. I was insane. My cousins were right, I had hallucinated the entire thing. I burst into tears right then and there, and instantly my uncle dropped to my side with "Ohhhhh, SM, S-baby, I'm so so sorry sweetie! It was a joke! I know it's there! It's really there! I was just teasing you! Oh poor baby..."
Turns out, my cousins had taken advantage of my sprint to the ice cream truck to make frantic motions behind my back towards my uncle who correctly interpreted their desperate signs to continue the joke. He played along with them at the last minute, but unfortunately, that was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was hysterical.
My uncle managed to calm me down long enough to buy me some ice cream, but even as I sat in the shadowy living room in my grandparents' house, my cousins knew the damage went too far. I was scarred. I sat motionless on the beige couch, licking my Batman Ice Cream unenthusiastically, a blank stare on my face. My reality had been shattered. Sure, I had the ice cream in my hands, but who's to say that it was real? How could I ever know if anything was real anymore? How could I ever be sure I wasn't just living in a delirious fantasy?
My cousins tried to get me to play Duck Hunt with them, but not even electronically massacring farm fowl could cheer me up. I was a ruined child. For the rest of my life, I would never REALLY be sure of reality.
Maybe I'm not really typing this right now. Maybe I'm really an 11-year-old in a straightjacket, rocking back and forth in a secure, padded facility somewhere chanting "The ice cream is coming... the ice cream is coming..."
Maybe YOU'RE not really reading this right now?? Hmm??? HMMM???
Monday, June 13, 2011
Ne-lo and SM Throw a Party
Now that summer has rolled around, I've had wayyyy too much time on my hands. Since school is out for summer break, I'm out of a job, and thus I have relocated to a more affordable place. A place where I can afford to spend 8 hours of my day writing my novel instead of contributing to the work force. That place is my mother's house.
While I have been able to get a lot of work done on my novel, I have been extremely poor due to my lack of a real job lately and therefore have not had the opportunity to do many things besides sit around my mother's house and clean out of boredom in between writing sessions. So to break up the monotony today, I took my brother Jonathan and my sister Ne-lo to the mall today. I bought myself two awesome shirts; one is a Sonic the Hedgehog shirt and the other is a Gorillaz shirt. I feel like it is particularly important for me to proudly display my nerdiness with such shirts. It prevents false advertising.
So anyway, Jonathan, Ne-lo and I all had a rockin' time at the mall. But the real adventure today began when Ne-lo looked in the cabinet today and unearthed a glorious discovery...
A packet of cake mix!
So we decided to document the exact process of Ne-lo and SM making a cake. Now it is time to release this secret formula to the public. If you're prepared, read onward.
I present to you:
Ne-lo and SM Throw a Party.
(All pictures taken by Ne-lo, the expert picture-taker, unless otherwise stated. Click on a picture to enlarge it)
Warning, the following post is extremely picture heavy and EXTREMELY long. If you have anything planned in say, the next week or so, you should probably call and cancel it right now.
Step one: BE FABULOUS. This is probably the most important thing to keep in mind while you are baking a cake. If you ever have to wonder if you're being fabulous enough, you probably aren't.
Step 2: Crack eggs. You should always start a good cake by cracking the eggs.
Step 3: Measure out the butter! But remember, you can't just plop a stick of butter right into the cake mix. You have to soften it first. This step can be a little difficult but just remember, everything gets easier with practice.
Step 4 - Open the microwave...
Step 5: And place the butter inside...
Step 6 - and close the microwave! See? Simple as that! You've now microwaved butter!
Step 7 - Oh, you should probably start the microwave as well.
Step 8 - Locate your cake mix!
Step 9 - Stop for a random picture of the dog.
Step 10 - Measure out the water needed for the recipe.
Step 11 - Time to open the cake mix. Locate a pair of scissors and cut.
Step 12 - You may have to use a lot of force to successfully open the cake mix.
Step 13 - Hooray! You've done it!
Step 14 - Empty the cake mix into the bowl.
Step 15 - Discard of the plastic bag. This is a choking hazard for small children. You don't want that kind of blood on your hands while you're trying to enjoy your delicious cake.
Step 16 - Combine all ingredients!
Step 17 - Prepare to whisk!
Step 18 - Read the instructions.
Step 19 - It is okay if you have to use brute force to whisk the cake. You show that cake who's boss.
Step 21 - Eventually, you might realize that your whisking ability isn't quite as good as an actual mixer.
Step 22 - At this point, you may want to search for a mixer.
Step 23 - Continue searching. It'll be around somewhere.
Step 24 - Find one mixer head. Only one.
Step 25 - Find the other mixer head, but realize it doesn't fit. Spend several minutes trying to force it to fit.
Step 26 - Eventually find a matching set of mixer heads in the dishwasher. Retrieve them.
Step 27 - Mix that sucker! Mix it up good!
Step 28 - Blow the breaker in the kitchen. Become sad. Yell for someone to come and help you.
Step 29 - Watch as whoever came to your aid resets the entire breaker.
Step 30 - Continue waiting.
Step 31 - Time for another random picture of the dog.
Step 32 - Yay! It's back on! Continue mixing!
Step 33 - Be photobombed.
Step 34 - Remove the mixers. Their job has been completed.
Step 33 - Have you used enough Pam? You probably haven't. Use some more.
Step 35 - Pour the batter equally into the Pam'd pans.
Step 36 - Smooth out the batter so the surface is nice and even.
Step 37 - Ta-da! You're ready to put your cake in the oven!
Step 38 - Remember to place both pans in the oven.
Step 39 - Also, don't forget to close the oven door. That's a very important step.
Step 40 - Hooray! Your cake is in the oven! You've successfully completed the first half of a cake!
Step 41 - Now that you have put your cake in the oven, it's time for some fun. You may now eat the rest of the unused cake batter, but remember-- You work in the public education system and your career would be ruined in a heartbeat if any photos that were even slightly provocative showed up on the internet, so eat your batter wisely. Lots of teeth or funny faces are preferred. Have a ball.
Step 42 - Check your cakes. Are they brown and poofy? Time to do the toothpick check.
Step 43 - Look for the toothpicks. Surely they are around somewhere.
(Ne-lo found the toothpicks and snapped a picture of them while I continued to hunt for them)
Step 44 - Prick your cakes with the toothpick. Does the toothpick come out clean?
Step 45 - Bingo! Your cakes are baked!
Step 46 - Remove your cake from the oven.
Step 47 - Don't forget to be fabulous! Rock those oven mitts!
Step 47 - Go on, clap for yourself a little bit. You deserve it.
Step 48 - You are a professional. You are a winner. Remember that as you allow your cakes to cool for at least 30 minutes.
Step 49 - Make sure all of your decorating items are together.
Step 50 - Who put bacon bits next to my frosting?? Who did that?? Why are those there??
Step 51 - Remove the cakes from the pan. If you used enough Pam, this should not be an issue.
Step 52 - Unfortunately, you probably didn't use enough Pam. Try unsuccessfully for another 10 minutes to get the cake out of the pan.
Step 52 - Finally succeed in getting one layer out of the pan! There may have been a little tearing of the cake, but don't worry. This is easily fixed.
Step 53 - Simply take the cake and position it flat on a plate.
Step 54 - Scrape the torn layer of cake out of the pan...
Step 55 - And gingerly take it and lay it onto the bottom layer, making sure to line up the edges neatly.
Step 56 - Make sure you take extra care in piecing your cake back together.
Step 57 - Congratulations! You can't even tell anything went wrong! Wow!
Step 57 - Executive decision. Ice the bottom layer of the cake before trying to get the top layer out of the pan. This will act like a glue in case things don't go smoothly with the removal of the top layer.
Step 58 - Open the icing can. This is a job for teeth.
Step 59 - Ice that baby!
Step 63 - It is time to show the top layer who is boss. Taking a firm grip on the cake...
Step 64 - Wrench, and pull...
Step 65 - Keep a firm grip on the cake in your grasp...
Step 66 - And you've done it. You've dislodged that stubborn sucker.
Step 67 - Now it's time to assemble the cake.
Step 68 - See how professional that looks?
Step 69 - Take a step back and admire your cake in its raw form before you begin the next stage of icing.
Step 70 - Slather that icing on.
Step 71 - Be generous! Everyone loves icing!
Step 72 - Remember, more is more! Oh, and strike a fabulous pose, it's probably been too long since you were last fabulous.
Step 73 - Voila! You are a professional icer!
Step 74 - Set the table for your party. Ne-lo and I know that you can't throw a successful party without pickles, a salt shaker, and Canada Dry, so that's what we picked for our party scene.
Step 75 - Candles can really add a personal touch to a party. We suggest adding plenty of candles.
Step 76 - After you've placed your candles, it's time to light them. A candlelit cake can really make a party great!
Step 77 - Just look at that beauty. Take a step back and admire your craft!
Step 78 - Total perfection.
Step 79 - It's fun to lick the candles, but remember to follow the same photo guidelines from earlier!
Step 80 - Time to serve the cake! Call your party guests, the fun is about to begin!
Step 81 - A nice, big piece for Ne-lo....
Step 82 - Here you go, Ne-lo!!!
Step 83 - And a nice big piece for me!
Step 84 -YAY! You've mastered the art of entertaining!
Step 85 - Enjoy your party! Doesn't everyone here look like they are having the time of their lives?
Yeah. I'm definitely going on Cake Boss...
While I have been able to get a lot of work done on my novel, I have been extremely poor due to my lack of a real job lately and therefore have not had the opportunity to do many things besides sit around my mother's house and clean out of boredom in between writing sessions. So to break up the monotony today, I took my brother Jonathan and my sister Ne-lo to the mall today. I bought myself two awesome shirts; one is a Sonic the Hedgehog shirt and the other is a Gorillaz shirt. I feel like it is particularly important for me to proudly display my nerdiness with such shirts. It prevents false advertising.
So anyway, Jonathan, Ne-lo and I all had a rockin' time at the mall. But the real adventure today began when Ne-lo looked in the cabinet today and unearthed a glorious discovery...
A packet of cake mix!
So we decided to document the exact process of Ne-lo and SM making a cake. Now it is time to release this secret formula to the public. If you're prepared, read onward.
I present to you:
Ne-lo and SM Throw a Party.
(All pictures taken by Ne-lo, the expert picture-taker, unless otherwise stated. Click on a picture to enlarge it)
Warning, the following post is extremely picture heavy and EXTREMELY long. If you have anything planned in say, the next week or so, you should probably call and cancel it right now.
Step one: BE FABULOUS. This is probably the most important thing to keep in mind while you are baking a cake. If you ever have to wonder if you're being fabulous enough, you probably aren't.
Step 3: Measure out the butter! But remember, you can't just plop a stick of butter right into the cake mix. You have to soften it first. This step can be a little difficult but just remember, everything gets easier with practice.
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