At the very beginning of my blog, I decided to start all of my posts with "on". This sounded very poetic, "On Flowers", "On Sleep", "On Why Emma Should Think Through Things".
I quickly realized, though, that I would have to be VERY careful with my titles.
Example:
If I wanted to write about a friend named Fred, I couldn't very well title a post "On Fred" now could I? Rumors everywhere, and I do have my reputation.
Or I wanted to write a post on a mixup with a friend. I thought she was talking about men's "nipples" when in reality she was talking about their "dimples". I can't call a post "On Nipples" so I had to include the tidbit in this blog.
(Side note: did you know that Aladdin has no nipples?)
So, if I have any titles that are a bit awkward, please forgive me.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Sunday, November 2, 2014
On Liquid Eyeliner
Have you ever put on liquid eyeliner?
I first experienced this terrifying phenomena on Halloween night. A time already fraught with mischief.
Despite my tomboy-ness, I'm not horribly shabby at putting on eyeliner. And naturally, I attempted to apply this new-fangled liquid stuff to the very edge of my eyelid.
And touched the brush to my eyeball.
The result was a startling spread of black ink like octopus incontinence across my ocular organ.
I looked like Hawk Eye in Avengers when Loki turned him into Sir Hamster due to brain control. Now, I am perfectly content with Loki controlling my heart. However, I am not OK with him taking over my mind with eyeliner.
I somehow managed to save my make-up job, however, I lost my confidence in liquid eyeliner.
I first experienced this terrifying phenomena on Halloween night. A time already fraught with mischief.
Despite my tomboy-ness, I'm not horribly shabby at putting on eyeliner. And naturally, I attempted to apply this new-fangled liquid stuff to the very edge of my eyelid.
And touched the brush to my eyeball.
The result was a startling spread of black ink like octopus incontinence across my ocular organ.
I looked like Hawk Eye in Avengers when Loki turned him into Sir Hamster due to brain control. Now, I am perfectly content with Loki controlling my heart. However, I am not OK with him taking over my mind with eyeliner.
I somehow managed to save my make-up job, however, I lost my confidence in liquid eyeliner.
On Getting Bread in the D.C.
I am gluten-intolerant.
It is a frustrating state of affairs, but there it is. Happily, my school dining commons, nicknamed the "D.C" (creative, right?) provides me with GF options.
A common snack of mine is bread with either mustard (yes, just bread and mustard yummmmm) or bread with peanut butter and honey.
Now to understand GF bread, one must understand that gluten is a binding agent. Thus, when not present the baked good in question is often dense, crumbly, and dry. The prevent such tragedies commercial GF bread is vacuum-sealed.
So here I am, getting my lunch. Sadly, the bread has not been opened by the kindly DC snack. I do not know why this is, they normally open it.
The bread is kept in a handy-dandy plastic container. To get to this handy-dandy plastic container I have to bend my handy-dandy 5"8' frame awkwardly in a room swarming with handy-dandy students. And since the bread has not been opened I am stuck trying to break through Ye Olde Impenetrable Plastic. I had just tried the third yank with my teeth when I heard a smooth voice say, "Can I help you?" And there, behind me, my knight in shining armor wielding a pocket knife of amazing usefulness.
Just kidding.
What really happened was I took out my handy-dandy swiss army knife. Sadly, a fellow student who had obviously never had contact with homeschoolers began screaming about terrorists. Mayhem. Luckily, the police believed that I was just a good little (and very hungry) county girl.
Ok, this is what really happened:
I tried to very discretely take out my pocket knife so the above did not happen and as quickly as possible, slit Ye Olde Impenetrable Plastic to remove the bread. Which was so dry and crumbly I couldn't get it out. I tried this piece, that piece, praying I didn't have Ebola 'cus if I did the GF population were goners.
Finally, bread crumbs raining around me as I emerged victoriously to eat some bread and honey.
It is a frustrating state of affairs, but there it is. Happily, my school dining commons, nicknamed the "D.C" (creative, right?) provides me with GF options.
A common snack of mine is bread with either mustard (yes, just bread and mustard yummmmm) or bread with peanut butter and honey.
Now to understand GF bread, one must understand that gluten is a binding agent. Thus, when not present the baked good in question is often dense, crumbly, and dry. The prevent such tragedies commercial GF bread is vacuum-sealed.
So here I am, getting my lunch. Sadly, the bread has not been opened by the kindly DC snack. I do not know why this is, they normally open it.
The bread is kept in a handy-dandy plastic container. To get to this handy-dandy plastic container I have to bend my handy-dandy 5"8' frame awkwardly in a room swarming with handy-dandy students. And since the bread has not been opened I am stuck trying to break through Ye Olde Impenetrable Plastic. I had just tried the third yank with my teeth when I heard a smooth voice say, "Can I help you?" And there, behind me, my knight in shining armor wielding a pocket knife of amazing usefulness.
Just kidding.
What really happened was I took out my handy-dandy swiss army knife. Sadly, a fellow student who had obviously never had contact with homeschoolers began screaming about terrorists. Mayhem. Luckily, the police believed that I was just a good little (and very hungry) county girl.
Ok, this is what really happened:
I tried to very discretely take out my pocket knife so the above did not happen and as quickly as possible, slit Ye Olde Impenetrable Plastic to remove the bread. Which was so dry and crumbly I couldn't get it out. I tried this piece, that piece, praying I didn't have Ebola 'cus if I did the GF population were goners.
Finally, bread crumbs raining around me as I emerged victoriously to eat some bread and honey.
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