I have discovered the worst possible way to start a Tuesday (with the possible exception of genocide.)
I woke up for my alarm, let it snooze, and suddenly discovered that it was 11:20. I don't have class until 1:30, thankfully, but I was supposed to meet my waltz partner to practice at 11. Oops. I put in my contacts, threw on some pants (essential!) and pulled my hair back on the way out the door. I ran to campus through the lightly drifting snow, sans jacket. Those who know me well may now be thinking to themselves, "Dag, no jacket? This demonstrates desperation!" And believe me, it does.
Reaching the Wilk in a very numb state, I searched high and low for my dance partner. He was nowhere to be found. Nor was his contact information on Blackboard, the BYU directory, or facebook. After about twenty minutes, I abandoned my elusive dance partner and discovered that I felt quite awful, physically. This could be due to a lack of breakfast. It could also be due to the fact that I ran to campus - I feel like Jack Sparrow when I run, so I don't generally force my body into that lack of dignity. Or, I suppose, I could be remarkably cliche, and actually have swine flu. Bah! My body, unfortunately, did not care to ruminate on the matter. I stopped by a public restroom to vomit. Not a choice experience. I do not recommend it.
So now what, Self? I am sitting at home, refusing to go to class, watching the snow, trying not to eat the mountainous pile of cookies on the table, not really wanting to eat anything else. Conclusion: snow makes me ill. But it also seems to bring cookies. Hmm.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
October's Pie: Macaroni & Cheese!
Alright, y'all. I really don't measure things. Ever. So... here's what I think went into this:
Crust:
2 C bread crumbs
1/2 C butter
Blend with knives or pastry blender; add water a little at a time until it sticks loosely. Line pie pan; bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes to prepare shell.
Filling:
1/2 onion, minced
1/4 C butter
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 C flour
2-3 C milk
2-3 C shredded cheddar cheese
Bacon bits
1 (16 oz.) packages shell noodles
Boil noodles. Make them done.
Meanwhile, brown onion and garlic in butter, add flour to make a roux (more flour if needed.) After roux has thickened, add milk and cheese; heat until cheese is melted.
Mix noodles into sauce, then pour into pie shell. (I had way too much sauce for my pasta, so I used a slotted spoon to scoop the noodles in, then saved the sauce for future connivery.) Top with bacon bits, then bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. If you want, foil the edges so the crust doesn't burn. When you've got about 10 minutes left, sprinkle some leftover bread crumbs over the pie. Or don't. I don't really give a care.
Remove foil before eating. Seriously.
Crust:
2 C bread crumbs
1/2 C butter
Blend with knives or pastry blender; add water a little at a time until it sticks loosely. Line pie pan; bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes to prepare shell.
Filling:
1/2 onion, minced
1/4 C butter
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 C flour
2-3 C milk
2-3 C shredded cheddar cheese
Bacon bits
1 (16 oz.) packages shell noodles
Boil noodles. Make them done.
Meanwhile, brown onion and garlic in butter, add flour to make a roux (more flour if needed.) After roux has thickened, add milk and cheese; heat until cheese is melted.
Mix noodles into sauce, then pour into pie shell. (I had way too much sauce for my pasta, so I used a slotted spoon to scoop the noodles in, then saved the sauce for future connivery.) Top with bacon bits, then bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. If you want, foil the edges so the crust doesn't burn. When you've got about 10 minutes left, sprinkle some leftover bread crumbs over the pie. Or don't. I don't really give a care.
Remove foil before eating. Seriously.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Rachel: 1. Satan's Duck: 0.
I had a face-off today with a rather large duck. And when I say rather large, I mean half as big as me. Granted, I'm a very small person; this may mean it was a normal-sized duck. But I was coming home from one of three failed midterms of the week, and I was feeling none too tall.
And then I saw him: the Duck of Beelzebub rose up on his horrible, webbed feet and raised his head, nearly reaching my eye level. I thought of that old saying that animals can smell fear, and deliberately kept my pace as I came down the Stairs of Death, waiting for the duck to make the first move. From fifteen feet away, I saw the duck's chest expand as it filled its lungs and proceeded to quack aggressively in my direction. As I came closer, the duck's quacking became more obnoxious, and the fowl's eyes showed no hesitation to charge me, should I refuse to immediately acknowledge its dominance.
Which, of course, refuse I did. Not one to kowtow to such paltry poultry, and being rather angstful myself, I looked the duck straight in the eye. I filled my own lungs (larger, fortunately, than the duck's) and retaliated mercilessly, angrily quacking that duck to shame! He looked surprised and a little frightened for a moment, then sat down quietly and became very interested in his own feathers. I smiled at my accomplishment. Whatever else I may fail in, this I know: I am the Alpha Duck.
And then I saw him: the Duck of Beelzebub rose up on his horrible, webbed feet and raised his head, nearly reaching my eye level. I thought of that old saying that animals can smell fear, and deliberately kept my pace as I came down the Stairs of Death, waiting for the duck to make the first move. From fifteen feet away, I saw the duck's chest expand as it filled its lungs and proceeded to quack aggressively in my direction. As I came closer, the duck's quacking became more obnoxious, and the fowl's eyes showed no hesitation to charge me, should I refuse to immediately acknowledge its dominance.
Which, of course, refuse I did. Not one to kowtow to such paltry poultry, and being rather angstful myself, I looked the duck straight in the eye. I filled my own lungs (larger, fortunately, than the duck's) and retaliated mercilessly, angrily quacking that duck to shame! He looked surprised and a little frightened for a moment, then sat down quietly and became very interested in his own feathers. I smiled at my accomplishment. Whatever else I may fail in, this I know: I am the Alpha Duck.
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