An Angry Advent?

As I've gotten older, and more into liturgical seasons, Advent has become more important to me. Each week the readings at mass are more significant to me personally, and reflecting on them becomes more pleasurable and anticipatory. That being said, I have a confession to make. I have secretly started to become increasingly angry at the secular world for their "Merry Christmas" signs, the fact that they start playing Faith Hill's version of "O Holy Night" starting the day after Thanksgiving, and, most importantly, that they've made Christmas into a materialistic cash cow.

One particular day I was walking around frustrated that "Silent Night" had been playing on the radio when some combination of my conscience and my guardian angel chided me. I felt somewhat embarrassed and stopped. And as I thought about it more I realized being angry wasn't helping anyone (duh) and that I should actually feel sorry for the seculars.

My theory is that by making the Christmas season appear earlier than it should the secular world, on some level, has made us Catholics feel either guilty that we don't feel comfortable saying "Merry Christmas" back to the cashier at the store, or defensive and, subsequently, (at least on my part) angry. We don't say "Merry Christmas" on the first Sunday of Advent, we don't sing Christmas carols at mass, and so we're the weird ones, right? We need to get all uptight and shout loudly whenever we see a Christmas sign "PEOPLE, IT'S NOT CHRISTMAS YET!! TAKE THIS FREAKIN' SIGN DOWN!" Right?

Wrongo. The first thing we should do is continue practicing our faith. Let's check ourselves first and make sure we're doing everything as well as we can. Yes? Good? Ok next let's pray for the seculars. Yes, that's right! This is what I didn't understand until recently: because the secular world doesn't share in this time of reflection and anticipation neither can they share fully in the culmination of joy that is Christmas. Isn't that sad? Don't you just feel sorry for them? I do. For them Christmas is just a day when everyone happens to get together and give each other presents. For us, we few we happy few, Christmas is about CHRIST. We get to participate in the Christmas liturgy, we get to rejoice, Christ will be born on that day! Isn't it exciting?? I'm pumped, and ready to wait. Christ is worth waiting for.

"Maranatha is a cry of the heart

That's hopeful yet weary of waiting
While it may be joyful with the burdens it bears
It's sick with anticipating
To long for the Promised One day after day
And the promise that soon He'd return
It's certain that waiting's the most bitter lesson
A believing heart has to learn"

-Michael Card "Maranatha"

Lets Chat About Bumper Stickers

So, lately I've been seeing a lot of bumper stickers that make my day for various reasons. Inspired by David's post at the Petroni blog I have decided to tell the world about them!

Let's start off with a classic.

My highly cynical and mean side used to laugh hysterically when I saw these bumper stickers. You idiots. I laugh that you don't know the truth. Bwahahah. Really I should be compassionate, pray for them, and beg forgiveness for them when they're judged, so now these serve as little reminders. Ladies who have these stickers, I can't commend you enough, seriously. In your highly offensive and intolerant way you have just reminded me to pray for you. So, thanks, some good did come of your bumper sticker.

BAHAHHAHAH! Just sayin'. This one always makes me laugh, no matter how many times I see it. Although when I first saw it my laugh was kind of like "haha! that guy's dumb!" Now it's more like "hah...ahhaah....ahhhhhhh! That guy's ruining our country! *hyperventilation*."

Keeping in the political realm here is another one that, just wows me. I can't get over it.

Yuk, yuk, yuk!! SERIOUSLY! You're too stupid to know that you're AN idiot! An illiterate idiot! Please, try running the country with your 1.7 gpa. Let me know how it goes. And in the next election you might try this thing called "voting." You get to choose which person you want to be president! It's for real!

Ok, last political one, I swear.

Hee hee hee! Done! Done! Moving on.

Hiiiiilarious! Probably the best "honor student" variation I've seen. So funny.

Anyway! Those are all ones that I've seen or heard about, so I'm out of bumper stickers. You guys have any you want to share?

Anatomy of an Email.

So here's what's what...

Recently I realized that a) I need to post something funny, and 2) I have lost my funny.

Yes, this is the truth. I no longer possess the ability to be funny. Possibly it is due to the fact that I've started drinking my coffee black. There is nothing humorous about black coffee, so, in an effort to improve itself, it must have stolen my funny. No, I'm not bitter, (the coffee is, though) just disappointed- I expected more from my coffee.

(You see? Terrible, not funny at all.)

So I thought to myself, "Well, I still need to post something funny. What about one of those emails you sent to Miriel?" Miriel is my sister. Sometimes, in an effort to add some color to her day, I send her emails that are somewhat humorous. I hope by looking at this email and telling you it's working parts I can start to get my funny back. My comments are italicized. Here goes.

Dear Ye Olde Sister... Title must be humorous to attract immediate attention.

I am breaking Dave Barry's mandatory rule that anyone who puts and "e" at the end of a word unnecessarily has to pay $50,000 per use to the IRS. Please don't tell anyone. I don't think you're olde. In fact, you're youthful and beautiful and any man who sees you is a fool not to fall at your feet! (How DO you walk around?)

Excessive flattery in an email has a rate of return that is 9.86 times faster than a regular email. True fact. Nope, just kidding, made that one up.

So I was just dropping you this...drop...this uhh...thing-a-ma-jig...email?

No idea. In retrospect this was not funny at all.

Yes, this is an email. Check. To see if you were uhh...doing alright. Yes, check. I'm sorry, it's just that we haven't talked in so long that I'm having trouble remembering your middle name.

A humorous little something that can't possibly be true adds depth.

I remember you last name because it's the same as our sisters': Gosher. Yep.

Also not true.

(Minnesota accent) Everyone loves a good Minnesota accent. ...Shut up, yes you do.
So ah, I really miss yeh, to say the least. I cried whilst perusing yer blog because I miss yeh so much. Now ah, I mean, I do cry easy, but don't let that getcha down. I done did that cryin' all fer yeh.

In all seriousness, I am almost depressed enough to drink away my troubles with the bottle of black fig vinegar that is sitting on the windowsill right now. I'm sure there's barely enough alcohol left in it to get a mouse drunk (a drunk mouse! haha!) but it would for sure make me throw up. Which is...exactly the opposite of what I want. Huh. Ok. I need to get some depression lessons.

We need to talk soon. For cereal. Or, we could just start an enormous email chain. Whaddaya think?

Leven'smooches from your youngest yet, ironically, biggest sister,
No, people this does not mean "Eleven Smooches." Do you see an apostrophe before it? No! Therefore it means what it sounds like, which is "Love and smooches" gosh.

TIRIRNNENNNENE

This type of signature is more likely to make the reader laugh and feel compelled to email back immediately. Brilliant, no?

Hm. Still not funny. I'll let you know when I find my funny again. Do you have any suggestions/ideas for getting it back? I need it soon, Thanksgiving is coming up!! And then Christmas. If I don't have it back by then, I might have to have myself committed. And, as much as you all want that to happen, my nephew would miss me. He's only almost two, have pity.

Utilitarianism, or Not

Ok, so, I don't claim to be really smart or a scholar or anything but sometimes I do read non-fiction books to help me understand life a little better. I happen to be reading a VERY thick book, in both senses of the word, called "Love and Responsibility" by the late John Paul II. For those of you who have read it, I apologize for my very weak understanding and ramblings and if you could help me out in the comments section that would be great. For those of you who haven't read it, take whatever I say with a bottle of salt. Anyway, here is the quote which gave me chills:

"If, while regarding pleasure as the only good, I also try to obtain the maximum pleasure for someone else- and not just for myself, which would be blatant egoism- then I put a value on the pleasure of this other person only in so far as it gives pleasure to me: it gives me pleasure, that someone else is experiencing pleasure. If, however, I case to experience pleasure , or it does not tally with my 'calculus of happiness'- (a term often used by utilitarians) then the pleasure of the other person ceases to be my obligation, a good for me, and may even become something positively bad. I shall then- true to the principles of utilitarianism- seek to eliminate the other person's pleasure because no pleasure for me is any longer bound up with it- or at any rate the other person's pleasure will become a matter of indifference to me and I shall not concern myself with it." (italics added)

WOAH! Right? I mean, talk about crazy! That IS the situation of most relationships and "marriages" in the U.S. and most other Western countries. This struck me particularly in contrast with a wedding I just attended for a childhood friend. Her pastor outright told her and her husband-to-be that their marriage would only work if they put each other first. He knew, he'd been married for thirtysomething years. I have great hope for them as a strong Christian couple and pray that they take his advice. But I know this isn't the case for most people.

It breaks my heart to think that this utilitarian ideology has so permeated our society that marriage is reduced to an institution merely for pleasure and convenience. Having been taught all my life what marriage really is, and what it is supposed to accomplish, the more I think about how things are today the more I am revolted. But more than revolted, I am in anguish for those people, those souls, who don't know the truth.

I guess all I can do is pray for more grace for them so that in some way I can share in the struggle.

Quick Takes...

I have to say something. I don't generally like reading other people's "quick takes". I know, I'm a horrible person, but I decided that maybe I'll be cured of that by writing my own. (Maybe?) Here goes.

1. The person who invented apple butter is a sadist. Seriously. "Oo! Here is something delicious but you have to stand over a stove just stirring and stirring and getting hot little bits of apple mush on your arms! And then for all your efforts, what started out as twelve quarts of apples will now only be two! Haha! So fun!"

2. For the past oh, nigh on 5ish days I have been CRAVING ICE. Like I thought I was thirsty but no- MUST HAVE ICE. Finally I Googled "craving ice" and wouldn't you know, craving ice is a sign of anemia! Google, you're so good to me. How else would I have known? Out come the Floradix pills.

3. Re-listening to Bill Cosby stand-up. Possibly the funniest guy on the face of the Earth. No, scratch, THE funniest guy on the face of the Earth. What could be better than the Niagra Falls sketch? "And I said to myself, 'Why should I tell her?'" HI-larious.

4. Ballet class. Yep. Performing to Mary J. Blige's "Good Love." Not joking. Still kinda freaked out.

5. How many of these am I supposed to do? 7?

6. Lurfing the Fall weather. It's chilly and windy and sunny and perfect. My favorite time of year without doubt. Also, who doesn't love crunching little leaves under his feet? Crunch...crunch...crunchcrunchcrunch. There's something so satisfying about it. If you see a girl jumping from leaf to leaf on the sidewalk and laughing, it's me.

7. MY LITTLE PEOPLE GET HOME TOMORROW!!!!!!!! Meaning Blaisey and Camilla. I have missed them so. :)

Ok, so It was sort of fun-ish to write. What do you think? Yes? No? I need sleep. Good night.

It will be October on Saturday and as you all know the Halloween stuff has been up since May. I hadn't really thought much about it until I saw two moms thrashing it out for a 0-3 month size Spider Man costume at the grocery store. That's when I decided "Gee, I'd better jump on this Spider Man bandwagon!" Hah! Tricked you! You thought I was going to dress up in a 0-3 month size costume for Halloween! FOOL! Really, I just decided that I want to dress up this year despite Camilla's protests that "Silly Aunt Tirienne, grown-ups don't dress up! Only kids." She's just afraid I'll out-do her. Whatever. I'm about to turn 20, my ego's not fragile or anything but IT'S ON LITTLE GIRL!!!!

Ideas. Let me know what you think.

"Nothing"

This is where I would dress regally in my own clothes and be the life of the party that I usually am.

Pros

1. Would look sweet
2. No one would be able to guess my costume
3. Would be seen as "hip", "forward thinking", "hot" as per usual.

Cons

1. Camilla would beat me.

Final Decision- No freakin' way.

"Pregnant Lady"
Arwen's kids have these things called bilibos and if you happen to stick one under your shirt you look about 9+ months pregnant.

Pros

1. Verrrry realistic
2. People who know me would think it was funny(-ish)
3. If the party was a drag I could pretend I was going into labor

Cons

1. People who didn't know me would be like "Woah, that is a really pregnant girl."
2. Inevitably, someone who I vaguely know would see me, tell someone I know well (who would probably be from church) and the next time I saw that person they would be all like "Sooo, I didn't know you were pregnant! Did you have your baby yet?" and I'd be all like "What baby?" a la Polly St. Clair in Two Weeks Notice, and then they'd be "Uh so why are you hiding your baby?" and I'd be all like "No, really, WHAT BABY!?!?" Explaining would lead to further confusion. CPS would most likely become involved and then the FBI and before you knew it there would be an Amber Alert for a nonexistent baby.
3. People would want to touch my belly. Or bilibo.

Final Decision- Maybe.

"Spider Man, in the 0-3 Month Size"

Pros

1. All except my right calf I could dress in my regular clothes.

Cons

1. Would spend the evening with a sweaty calf.
2. People would comment "Uh. I think a tiny Spider Man is eating your leg."
3. Would have to scuffle with grocery store moms to procure said costume

Final Decision- Heck yes.

As always, thanks for reading. My next post will be: "Reflection- was that Scuffle Really Worth the Jail Time?"

Our First Anniversary

Moshers, Moshers, Moshers (Moshers) Those four. Dorky, Quirky, Beautiful, Adorable. Or, as you better know them: Bryan, Arwen, Camilla, Blaise. It's been exactly a year since I came to live with these wonderful, fabulous people and, oh what a rollicking ride it's been. These are just a few stories and observations that I'd like to share with you because it's always fun to get an insider outsider's opinion, right? Right??

When I first arrived here all I was apt to get from Blaise was a casual “What's up?” as we passed in the hall. Now he shrieks out my name when he sees me. I mean, it took him a year but he finally figured out that I'm awesome. Or, he figured out how to say my name. One of the two. (By the way if you were wondering it's pronounced Teary-n, like a sad, sad N that has no home, no family and no shoes.) Needless to say, I find that my littlest nephew is pretty sweet, a good hang, likes to make me laugh, and wears his sister's shoes when he finds them, you know, just in general an awesome guy.
Putting in his daily call to China.


What Camilla has learned in the past year is, “Sarcasm 101”. Her dear, wonderful father has finally broken through to her. The first few months when she asked “Daddy, can I have some juice?” and he responded “No, no you can't.” she would usually cry. She's wised up though. Now she says “Daddy, you're just teasin'. Now get me my juice, fool.” She's figured it out, and dang, she ain't got no time to mess around.

Her job is checking the mail. She's very serious about it.

On moving in, I knew that my brother-in-law liked poop/fart jokes. I just didn't realize how much he liked them. His favorite time to make jokes like this is when he's changing Blaise's diapers. So far these are the names he's come up with for Blaise: “Poopy McPooperson of Poopy, Poopy Lane”, “The Poopenater” and my personal favorite “Knight of the Brown Table, Sir Blaisey McPoops-a-lot”. If you're not a person who appreciates poop humor, then I just feel sad for you. Because you'll only think about half of Bryan's jokes are funny. And he's a funny, funny guy. Actually, after a year of observation I'm pretty sure that's the main reason Arwen married him. (Bryan! Hey! Just kidding, she married you because you're handsome, intelligent and caring, and don't you forget it! Please don't kick me out of your house.)


This is actually how I picture Bryan in my mind. Yep.

Lastly but not least-ly we come to my dear, sweet, sister Arwen. Living with her for a year has let me get to know the sister I thought I never would. Our age gap is such that my first real memories of her are ones of her coming home from college for the summer. It's kind of sad to me that I didn't get to know Arwen better sooner because she's one of the most generous and caring people I know. Also one of the most hilarious. I think out of all four sisters Arwen and I have the most similar sense of humor. So thanks for all the fun times, big sister.

This past year has been one of the best and most fun in my memory. You guys have helped me grow as a person and as a sister so Moshers, thank you for letting me live with you. It's a privilege.

Letter to Grandma

Today when Arwen was putting Blaise down for the night she asked if Camilla could come down and hang out with me so the whole process would be a little smoother. Camilla is easy to watch and tonight she was even easier because she was writing a letter to her paternal grandmother also known fondly as “Grandma Yogurt”. Camilla sat down at my desk, carefully arranged her markers and asked me to spell out “Grandma Yogurt” for a picture she was drawing. I was lounging on my bed reading, too lazy to get up and make sure she was forming the letters correctly, I mean she's been doing it for months, and she's pretty good it so why did I need to get up? I said each letter to her in turn and when she was finished she brought me a lovely picture of her and mama (Arwen) in grandma's pool that was labeled “Grab ma yogurt”. Nice. This is exactly what Camilla's loving but somewhat strange grandmother needs to see; me encouraging her to draw pictures that seem to command grandma like a servant. I can just imagine how that conversation would go down, or south depending on how you look at it. “Hey, grandma come here! I've got a picture for you, there's a secret message in it too, ha ha ha ha*. And make it snappy, YoKids doesn't do well in the sun.” Three year old on a power trip. This is where a simple misspelling gets me. Camilla is asking “Why are you laughing, Aunt Tirienne?” How do I explain this? Maybe she'll read this post when she's sixteen and be able to laugh at herself. Let's hope so. :)


* A la Bill Cosby in the “Noah” sketches.

New Discipline.

This sounds kind of scary, right? Like I'm going to take up corporal punishment and beat small children. But I had to make this the title, it's the only appropriate one. Sorry if I scared anyone.

So here's the real poop, scoop, 411; I have decided that I am going to blog at least once a week and what's more I will be reading blogs! Something that I haven't really ever done. Seems strange, because half, no more than half, of my family blogs. My, Dad, mom, and sisters Arwen and Miriel all have blogs, they're pretty awesome. I decided that I should start reading them because, these are my family members and they're putting stuff out there for people to read and maybe, in some way I'll learn more about them and be able to help them better.

I wish I could say my reason behind posting more often was a humble or inspiring one, like "Jesus asked me to." But really, it's because I think I might have something to contribute, maybe something funny to say. (Let's face it, we all love to laugh, and I'm pretty much hi-larious.) Don't expect to be inspired, (like on the rest of my people's blogs) I'm not a scholar or a brilliant thinker, truly, I'm just trying to make you laugh.

Confessions of an Extrovert

Arwen always tells me that I am a total extrovert, meaning I get my energy from being around other people, and it's totally true. I always feel my most motivated when I've been spending time with my peoples. Maybe part of the reason I start to get anxious when I'm alone is because I'm afraid that I'll run out of momentum and get to a place where I no longer feel motivated to do anything. When I was in Italy I spent a week touring Florence alone. I felt like that was the worst week of my trip. I was walking around the city by myself, seeing amazing art and architecture by myself and crying inside because I had no one to share it with. I let myself take three hours in the Uffizi gallery but when I walked out, I was so depressed at having no one to share all that beauty with that I literally walked blindly for twenty minutes with no idea where I was going.

The truth is, when I'm alone for too long I have no idea what to do with myself. I get antsy. When I'm alone for a weekend my guardian angel hears a lot of hysterical, bordering on insane laughter going on in my head. I guess I really expect other people to be there for me and help me make decisions. Co-dependent? Maybe. But deep down I know that much wiser people than I am are around to help me most of the time and when they're not I think that maybe I'll start to de-rail. That kind of makes it sound like I don't trust myself but I really do. It's just that I feel like I can trust myself but I've still got to lean on someone else for support. It took me a long time to get to that point, too. For a long time I think I was so mad at myself for feeling like I needed to lean on other people that I would force myself to be alone. Bad, vicious cycle. And usually I'd end up even worse off than I had started. So I finally decided; there is absolutely no reason in the world that I have to do everything on my own. That's when I started to trust and lean on other people.

So if I lean on you, thanks. It means a lot.

Some things you maybe didn't know about me.

You all know I love food. Mmm, gosh do I love food. But there are some foods that I actually really, really hate.

1. Peanuts. Can't stand the smell taste or texture of these puppies. Don't know why, just hate 'em.

2. Cilantro. Yuckyuckyuck. Can any one say tastes like that really gross soap in public restrooms? Recently I did find out that this may be genetic though because I can taste PHT. Whatever, still gross.

3. Fennel/Anise. Barf-o-la. Can't stand it. So gross that I try to pick fennel out of my sausage whenever we have pasta and sausage dishes.

4. Dark chocolate. Call me crazy. Good, got that out of your system. Dark chocolate is a sad, sad waste of what could be otherwise delicious milk chocolate. Oh, I guess I should also include white chocolate but I think more people are in my camp about that particular food farce.

5. Pickle relish. Ew. Do you know where they get those pickles? You are one lucky sap. I'm not going to tell you just in case you do like pickle relish but it's gross, really gross. Oh, and that's not even mentioning the taste, which is equally gross.


I feel badly just ragging on foods and not telling which ones I love, so here are a few just to balance it all out.

1. Olive oil. Really good, fresh extra-virgin olive oil. It makes me tear up to remember it. I haven't had any since I left Italy five months ago. Sob.

2. Coffee. I get it, total cliche whatever, you will not stop my love.

3. Pesto. Pignoli e basilico, buonissima.

4. Red currants. Oo, how yummy are these little guys? So yummy! Pop them on your food it looks fabulous, pop them in your mouth and it's a fun little treat! Brilliant! Nice one, God!

5. Cherry pie filling from a can. Sad, so horribly sad that I love this. Even sadder is that I can and will eat it right from the can. But it's soooo goood. Try putting it on Oreos sometime, it'll change your life.

6. Daddy's toasted oatmeal cookies. What I love about these is that you can suck on them and they're savory/sweet, crunchy/chewy. Mmm.

Kay! fun times. BYE!

Weird Day

This morning I woke up freezing cold and in excruciating abdominal pain which persisted for the next 10 hours. At first I thought it would go away buuuut it didn't. And when I went to my Shakespeare class I felt so nauseated that I just couldn't find any humor in Puck's speech. It was terrible. I forced myself to eat breakfast first of all because (OVERSHARE ALERT!) if I was going to throw up I prefer not to dry-heave. That helped a tiny bit but I still felt shaky and just kind of floated through the day. Finally around oh, I'd say 6:30ish I started to feel better and came home from my class an hour later to have hummus and an apple for dinner. Where did this come from? No idea. But lets hope it never happens again.

In other news I started my collage for my "Much Ado About Nothing" project. I think it's going to be pretty awesome. Maybe when I'm done I'll post a photo of it, yah? I love making collages, anything crafty really.

Now is the time when I really should be going to bed instead of writing on mah blog because I have an early class. But I will try and post again soon! 4

Whatever t'heck's in yer fridge.

We all have those days. You know the ones where we really want something good to eat but we don't have the right ingredients to make any of our favorites and most of what's in the fridge is strange leftovers. I had a day like such as that today. And from those strange, seemingly misfit leftovers I made a delicious lunch.

'Kay, so I have this thing about calling procedures "recipes". So let me be clear, this here is a procedure for making a meal, not a recipe, and you can follow it exactly or use whatever the heck you want/have.

You'll need:
1 Can of tuna
1 med onion, diced
a heck of a lot of bacon grease (if you substitute this please, please use butter and not vegetable oil, vegetable oil tastes like crap...or "carp" if you're talking to my three-year-old niece.)
2ish cups of old nasty rice
1T hoisin sauce, soy sauce or whatever kind of sauce
some egg yolks
soy sauce
salt and pepper to taste

Drain the tuna and set it aside. Take a huge skillet and saute the onions with the bacon grease over med-high heat. Mmm. Fat, I love fat. When the onions start getting golden-ish, add the tuna and smash it to bits, little, tiny, savory bits. I would like to point out that adding bacon grease to anything, even something boring like canned tuna makes it amazing. Ok, when that's all nice and steamy together dump in your rice, stir all together and then add the sauce. Cool, smells yummy, no? Ok, now make a little well in the middle of your rice/tuna/onion mess and add the egg yolks. Stirring quickly mix the egg yolks all through and when they're all cooked take it out. Right now I can tell what you're thinking; "Wow, this looks disgusting, what the heck was she thinking?" to which my answer is; "You're a doofus, you'll thank me when this goes in your mouth." Drizzle the whole bowl with soy sauce and add whatever salt and pepper you think is good. Now, I want you to enjoy the fact that you; a)got leftovers out of your fridge, b) were able to let go of your anal retentiveness and follow a procedure not a recipe and, c) are eating something totally delicious. Feeds 2-3.

Buona? SI! A dopo tutti.

Uhmm...what?

I love history. To me it is fascinating, riveting, amazing stories about how other older civilizations have lived. So, not surprisingly, I also love my history class. My professor is a pretty good lecturer and I don't need to read the book, to get an A. (Ok, this sounds like a good thing but it really just means I only like things if I can be a slacker about them...plus, I didn't buy the book, tee hee!) But, there is one thing I don't love about my history class, I call him "Back Row Boy" because I don't really know his name- maybe Justin or Josh or something like that. Anyway, this kid talks nearly more than the professor, and worst of all, God bless him, he either; a) says something the professor has JUST SAID b) says something that is on the massive projector screen that the professor is ABOUT TO SAY or c) says something TOTALLY IRRELEVANT AND/OR FALSE.

This drives me seriously bonkers. So the reason I told you all of this is to give you background for my "Story of Today".

*Ahem*

Prof: "...and one of the things we have to look at is the sale of indulgences. Indulgences are given by the Church to those faithful who perform good works to reduce their time in purgatory. Now, does anyone know what purgatory is? Tirienne?"

Me:"Purgatory is the place between Earth and Heaven where you go after you die in order to atone for your sins before entering heaven. It's basically like hell but with hope."

Prof:"Exactly and-"

Back Row Boy: (loudly) "Actually, the pope got rid of purgatory like three years ago."

At this point my professor gave me the most horrified look, his eyebrows practically in his hairline. It took severe self control to keep myself from falling off my chair and laughing until my time to go to purgatory. Instead I helped my poor professor out by saying something to the effect of "uhmm, no"

Ahh, Back Row Boy, he means well. And may he produce many gems of hilariousness for me to share with you all in the future.

Vanity gets the smackdown.

Baking class. You're on your feet for five hours at a time and I, tenderfoot (well, really tender-knee), can't handle it. So my sister Arwen finally convinced me to buy some Danskos.

Yes, those eminently wearable but seriously heinous shoes. They arrived today and are just... gosh, let's say as unattractive as I imagined them to be. But as I currently wear them I have decided they are the gosh darn most comfortable things ever. Thus, for once in my life I am choosing comfort over style. Yay me.

Scrumptions (Yes, that's different from "scrumptious")

So here's the thing. I'm in training to become a chef/baker/pastry chef. But here's also the thing, I don't want to write a food blog. I want to write a ME blog (dude, how vain does that sound?) and sometimes food happens to be part of that so, cool, whatever but don't think that this is going to be the only thing I write about, cause it's not. Ok, we've cleared that up. Now, ONWARD!!

I love Teriaki, I really do. So guess what I made for dinner? Yes, all you teriaki lovers* out there, I made teriaki chicken with rice. Which is how I came to call the one inch cubes of chicken "scrumptions" because they were crispy and chewy on the outside and tender perfect on the inside. Mmm.

For the sauce:

1C soy sauce
1C sugar
1/2C cider vinegar
2T corn starch
2T cold water
2 Cloves garlic
pepper to taste

For the rest:

3 chicken breasts well trimmed and cut into 1in cubes
4C cooked rice

Kay, so here's how it goes. Mix all the stuff for the sauce together in a medium sauce pan and whisk it together until the sugar is dissolved and the starch is well disbursed. Did I say turn on the stove? No, I didn't. Set the pan to the side and hold your freaking horses. Sweet, now turn the oven on to 400 degrees and line a baking sheet with foil. Place all the chicken cubes on top. Set it aside for a sec, good. (Yeah, uhmm so right about now you might want to think about cooking your rice, like boil four cups of water, add two cups uncooked rice turn it to low and cover for 20 minutes? Mhmm, good idea.) Now it's time to put that sauce on a medium/low heat and wait for it to start thickening and bubbling. Did it happen? Just the way you always imagined?? Your fairy-tale sauce?!? Wow, you're good...wait, just kidding it's called corn starch. Oo bubble burster, that's me. Anyway, put about half of the sauce into another bowl and with a pastry brush slather that sauce on to the chicken. Now you're going to want to bake these in the oven for about oh, I'd say 10-12 minutes. But about halfway through (5-6 minutes for those of you who have decided never to use simple math ever again) turn them over and brush some more of that yummah sauce on them. You'll pretty much see when they're done if you have any qualms just cut one in half and see if there's still some pink. Or, if you're like my grandma and enjoy eating things the texture of shoe leather, don't cut one in half, just let them dry out until they are sad charred bricks. Assemble it like this rice/chicken/more sauce. And seriously, you will cry at how good this is. Serves 8 children or 4 adults or 1 NFL player. Total time, like an hour or something.

Buon appetito.

*Notice that I said LOVERS, not AFICIONADOS so if you're like all fancy and into real Japanese cooking please don't hate on my Americanized version.