Sarah's Thoughts

Friday, March 31, 2006

Poisson d'Avril!!

Every year I play the same April Fool's joke on a different person, often more than one. I cook a lot and make a lot of things from scratch. I am also very trustworthy, except on April 1st, so I can easily dupe people into eating something truly disgusting. Every year I get people to eat chocolate covered play-dough.

I begin with my four ingredients: flour, salt, water and chocolate.

I mix 1 part salt, 2 parts flour, and 1 part water to form a dough.

I roll the dough into a snake and cut it into small pieces which are then rolled into balls

I bake the balls on low heat to make the outsides dried out.

Then I cover them in chocolate.

They look pretty tasty, don't they? They are gross. I know because I ate part of one. Generally I just leave them on the counter in a pretty dish and people take and eat one. The facial expressions of those who try them are great, the best part of my April Fool's day every year.


I've taken to adding even more salt, and this year I mixed the ingredients in a zipper bag, leaving the dough soft enough to pipe out of a hole in the corner of the bag, baking as usual, then dumping the centers into a zipper bag of melted chocolate, shaking to coat, then moving the "treats" into a baggie of powdered sugar, to individually coat each "treat" . They look nice enough to eat.

Friday, March 24, 2006

Please Share

Please feel free to share your worst date stories! I know my story is long and rambling, but I have not yet worked out a short and concise writing style. Any feedback and/or (constructive) criticism is welcome as I learn how to write my stories in a more entertaining way. Thanks!
Horn-tooting update: This picture is one I took. All and any flower pictures that end up on this blog will be my own work.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

My Story

It has been a while since I've written anything, and I promised I would tell the story of my worst date ever, so here it is:
I was a junior in high school, only 16 years old, and the junior prom was coming. I knew that I would not be asked, but I wanted to go, just to say I did. My mom didn't go to prom, and I wanted to be able to tell my kids that I did. I was talking at lunch with the girls I considered to be my friends. They were, of course, talking about prom and who they should ask because they were pretty sure they wouldn't be asked either. One girl, "Mary" said that "Kristen" should ask Mike (that's his real name), but Kristen said she wasn't so sure she wanted to. I had known Mike since the fourth grade. He lived next door to my mom's good friend, and my piano teacher. I decided I would ask him to the prom. Kristen had said she wouldn't, so I thought it wouldn't be a problem. More on that later.
I had math with Mike and decided to ask him after class. I'm a pretty shy person and so approaching someone to talk to them is a terrifying event. I was so nervous that I asked him three times before I realized that he had said yes. Mission accomplished. Now it was time to find a dress. I have different requirements for a dress than most girls do, namely that it must have sleeves, cover my back and front sufficiently, and no slits past the knees. Obviously this is a near impossibility, but thankfully I and both my parents sew. I chose a pattern and beautiful purple charmeuse and organza fabric. My mom is the queen of procrastination, so of course my dress was finished at the very last minute, and I mean the very last minute.
Prom was to be held in a very fancy reception hall in downtown San Jose. My date was to pick me up at 6:00 so we could get there before they closed the doors and served dinner. At about 4:30 I got out of the shower and dried my hair, in my slip. My mom began doing my hair and stopped when she realized that my dress wasn't hemmed yet!!! So my dad set up the sewing machine in the living room and began sewing the hems of all three layers of the skirt. Mom went back to doing my hair and was interrupted again when my grandfather arrived. It was opening night of Peter Pan, the play that two of my little sisters were in. Those sisters weren't home, they were at the school getting ready for their performance. My baby brother ran back and forth between the living room and the bathroom to see how the dress was coming, and my other sister was gathering things for me: my jewelry, purse, shoes, etc.
Then I heard the doorbell ring. My date was there, and I was in my underwear. Grandpa answered the door and showed him into the living room, where Dad was still sewing the dress. My dad tried to talk to Mike, but it was too hard to hear over the sound of the Bernina. "So, what is it that you do for a living?" Mike asked my dad. "I'm vice president over facilities and manufacturing of a pharmaceutical company," was the answer my stunned date got. I don't think he'd ever seen a man sew before. My grandfather, who's only hobby is family gossip, tried to talk to Mike over the sound of the sewing machine while my brother continued to run up and down the hall from all the excitement. Finally it was done and he brought me the dress. I put it on, grabbed my purse and sweater and walked into the living room where we did the whole corsage and picture thing. Then we went to his car and got on the freeway.
We got lost getting there, which was apparently my fault because I couldn't read the directions he had written down. When we did get there we went into the dining room to see those girls sitting at a table with their dates and two empty chairs which were removed from the table almost a soon as we had arrived. I waved hello and got only cold stares in return. We sat at a table with people I didn't know and ate. The food tasted ok and the conversation wasn't too bad because we had ended up at a table with intelligent people, not too easy at prom. After dinner we went to do pictures. It is the worst picture I have ever seen in my life. I look retarded because I didn't want to be draped all over him like the photographer kept positioning us, and we look really awkward. The other reason the picture is so bad is that Mike was born with dark Brillo-esque hair and eyebrows to match, but he bleached most of his hair for this special occasion. That's right, not all of the hair and none of the eyebrows. Immediately following this horrible ordeal we went to the bar, where he spilled Coke all down my dress.
The dinner made me ill so I had to keep escaping to the bathroom. I had been completely shunned by all my girlfriends. Mike was being obnoxious and trying to touch me in ways I did NOT want him to. I was relieved when it was over and we went to collect my sweater. On our way out Kristen asked Mike if he could drive her home. She and a couple of the girls had come alone, and the others were going out and she was tired. He said that was fine, which I was okay with, and we drove away. He dropped me off first, even though geographically it would have made more sense to drop her off first. He came around and opened my door and said "thanks. That was fun" and left me at the curb while Kristen got out of the back and into the front seat.
That is not only the story of my worst date, it is also the story of my first date ever in my life. I must say that all the dates between then and my last date (18 months ago) were better than that, if only slightly. I think it was good to start off so low, I could only go up from there!

Friday, March 03, 2006

The Horrors. . . of Dating?

My last post made me start thinking about dating. I think that worst date stories are hilarious. Probably the worst one that I have ever heard was told to me by a classmate. Her boyfriend’s house had burned up, so his family was renting another (expensive) home in the neighborhood. While his parents were out of the country, he invited her over to make dinner and watch a movie. While they were making dinner the burglar alarm went off and they left the kitchen to investigate. While they were figuring out why the burglar alarm went off, another alarm went off: the fire alarm. Yes, they caught the kitchen on fire, and ended up losing most of the roof over the kitchen, and a couple of walls.
I have quite a dating horror story myself, but I think I’ll save it for another day…

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Build her a cake?

After Napoleon Dynamite came out, kids at my sister's high school in California started "building" cakes to ask each other out, thinking that it was just something funny from a movie. Little did they know they were doing something normal, and to be honest, quite unimaginative, in "Mormon Culture." It's been around for ages, this creative-date-asking thing, and cakes are pretty bland in comparison to some other ways I've heard of. The following are things that I have known people to do or (confession time!) I have done myself. Oh! Let's make it a game! Guess which ones I've done!
- The treasure hunt- She put an alarm clock under his bed, set for 3am. Taped to the clock was the first of a set of clues to lead him to a toy dump truck full of hamburger buns and a note that said "I'd like to haul your buns to the dance"
- The cereal one- Written on a box of Honeycombs: "Honeycomb your hair, I'm taking you to the dance!"
-The Half and half- She gave him a carton of half and half attached to a bouquet of balloons. On the carton was written "Half of me wants to go to the dance with you..." and in the balloons were the words "and the other half does too"
-The butter- She sent over four sticks of butter with his name written on them, about 15 minutes apart. Last to be delivered was a loaf of bread with her name baked inside and a note that read "Now that I've buttered you up, will you go to the dance with me?"
-Ice cream- Her name was hidden towards the bottom of a hand-packed half-gallon of 31, and the lid asked if he would go.
-Super corny- Roses hung from the shower, Hershey kisses strewn all over the floor, the note: Now that I've showered you with roses and kissed the ground you've walked on, will you go to the dance with me?
-Flour- Written on the outside of a 25lb bag of flour, "Will you go to the dance with me?" Hidden somewhere inside the bag, her name. That one made quite a mess trying to figure out who it was from!