My dearest Aunt, the aunt we keep upstairs in the attic (we keep her sister in the basement), has this thing about food. When she knows a certain number of people will be present for a meal, she will cook for twice or three times as many. She will eat a small amount of food, after serving you enough for three. When you have somewhat successfully cleaned your plate, she will push the leftover food toward you, grunt, and point at it, demanding that you eat the food. I remember as a little tike wondering how I would be able to fit out the door to descend into mine own abode, and feeling like I was going to explode after imbibing all the food that got shoved at me. No wonder I'm overweight.
The day my mother told me, "You know, you don't have to eat everything your aunt offers you" was a day of great celebration and rejoicing. It was a feeling of empowerment to not have to eat everything that was set before me. It was like...wow. It is so hard to explain in words. I felt like I could float above the world, and fly. Plus I didn't dread climbing the stairs as much.
I had lots of weird ideas as a little tike.
As I grew older, it seemed inevitable that I would have to eat at my aunt's once or twice a year, but I made up for the excess of food by being dubbed an anorexic by the boys.
I only ate half of my PBJ.
Only half.
And I hadn't eaten breakfast.
And I wasn't planning on eating it.
And the boys, who's faces were covered with enough food to feed a tribe in Africa for a day, and who had an equal amount, if not greater, on their plates, decide I'm not eating enough.
Logan: Is that all your eating? Me: Yah. Logan: *stares* Me: What? Logan: You're anorexic.
I am NOT. I would like to weigh around 130 pounds, and that would not be considered anorexic. Now, if I weighed 130 and thought I was grossly overweight, I would beg you, my friends, to step in and help me.
But I don't.
But, anywho, this is all to say....
Wait for part 2 tomorrow to find out exactly WHY this is entitled "Cooking for Two."
It is always wise, before you go to sleep, to beware...of The Poke Monster.
This is someone you may not want to be scared of. Infact, I know several Poke Monsters. They are usually very nice, although one of them has a tendency to attempt to poke her finger in the light socket(that's my mad scientist friend). My other Poke Monster has other nicknames too, but doesn't answer to some of them. Anyways, the Poke Monsters work in shifts, so there really is only one on duty at the time. One lives in the Cup and Platter, or nearby, at least, and the other lives down south, and comes up to visit me when she thinks I'm in desperate need of a poke.
But they are both Poke Monsters. Things characteristic of a Poke Monster:
10. They usually dwell in hot, deserty places.
9. They are masters of "Pip-fu" (a way of fighting invented by Pippin)
8. They turn FaunSong into a duck by poking her magic button
7. They like throwing/mixing things in/with water
6. Try to fool you into letting down your guard by being very quiet before poking
5. They like to ding people in IM conversations
4. They poke you for no reason
3. They do it very sweetly
2. They claim you started it
1. They like fudgesicles
Seeing all of these characteristics at one time can be very interesting. Watch for the fudge lines around the mouth, and be sure to warn Fauny if you see more than one sign of a Poke Monster. I like it when Fauny can talk, not quack.
*Squeaks, and tries to avoid a poke*
Run for your lives, peoples!!!!!
~A City
Thanks to Ellesar (a confirmed Poke Monster) and FaunSong612 for helping me compile my list.
"Drama Queen said... Hi! im hollys friend, and i LOVED your POTC 3 review! i found it helped me understand it better."
I'm glad somebody like it. DQ, you made my day. I'll make sure Hol's nice to you in the Touche stories. I will, I will, I will. :)
Well, I have just returned from the theaters. Despite the fact that Pirates 3 is still showing, I did not go and see it again. Instead, we went and saw Ratatouille(Rat-a-too-ee). Ah, what a wonderful ratfullness that movie had!! Since it is much less complex than movies like Pirates, one post will do.
For a movie about cooking, it was quite exciting. Where else can you get washed through a drainage system on a cooking book? Wake an old lady up with saffron? Like the bad guy 'cause he's so short that he has to carry a stepladder around with him to see what everyone is doing? See a kitchen get taken over by rats--and produce the best meals in Paris? Okay, that was a bit interesting...For those of you that have rats (Ahem, Hol) you may want to start training them. Of course, the movie wasn't all wonderful. You can't seem to have a movie made by Disney or Pixar without having the Dad be wrong. Ratatouille was no exception. Dad was wrong. If Dad had just let Remy follow his dreams, everything would be fine. But, this was only a slight undertone, and didn't detract too much from the film as a whole.
The movie, of course, is completely animated, and very nicely, I must add. Directed by Brad Bird, the movie is quite funny, but not dirty, even though it is about rats. It deals with success, and encourages Remy to follow his dreams. After meeting Linguini (whose name sounds oddly like something that would be served at an Italian restaurant), the two pair up and work up becoming the best Chef in Paris. Toward the end, Linguini forgets the importance of his rat friend, but quickly remembers when things start going wrong.
The movie starts with Linguini getting his head banged against the wall by aliens, then switches to Remy. Remy and his brother cause some trouble, which makes the whole clan have to leave their home. Remy gets separated from the rest of the rats because he tried to save Gusteau's cookbook from the house. He succeeded in saving the cookbook, but as a result got separated from his family. He ends up floating off to Paris, and then...He falls through a roof into the kitchen of the famed deceased Chef's restaurant. After a mad chase through the kitchen, Remy is about to escape through an open window, when he realizes that Linguini has made a mess of a soup. He quickly begins to fix the soup, and ends up making a creation of his own. Everyone thinks that Linguini made it, and the head chef, who has no use for Linguini, tells him he will have to recreate the soup.
Then they find the rat. After a mad chase, Remy gets captured. Linguini takes him out to throw him in the river, but starts telling the rat his woes. After realizing that the rat can understand him, the two form a pact, in which Remy will learn to control Linguini's cooking by pulling on his hair.
About this time, the rest of the rat pack has also found its way to Paris, and the family is reunited. However, Remy's Dad wants him to give up cooking, and Remy wants nothin' doing. Remy begins stealing scraps and feeding his brother and some friends the food.
In the next few days, Remy finds that the door to where the food is kept is locked. In his hunt to find the key, he finds Gusteau's will, and a letter explaining the Linguini is Gusteau's heir, and the restaurant is supposed to be given to him. Remy takes the papers to show to Linguini, but Skinner, the head chef and the man that should have owned the restaurant in the case that no heir appeared, finds him and makes a mad chase to catch the rat. Remy, however, escapes, and Linguini is put as the rightful heir just two days before the date that would allow Skinner to own the restaurant.
Then, of course, Linguini and Remy have a falling out, but when a prominent food critique comes to the restaurant, the two straighten it out. But, unfortunately, that means that Linguini ends up losing all of his kitchen crew, including Colette, who has been falling in love with Linguini, and visa versa. But, as Colette goes home, she sees Gusteau's book, "Anyone can Cook" in the window of a store. As she thinks about it, she decides to turn around and go help Linguini. She returns to find the kitchen overrun with rats. Remy had decided to do something to help Linguini, so while Linguini waits tables on roller skates, several hundred rats do the kitchen work (Remy being the conscientious rat he is, makes them all go through the dishwasher before cooking). Colette, after a moment of repulsion, immediately jumps in and starts to work. The prominent food critique absolutely loves the food (Remy had given him a special version of Ratatouille), and wishes to see the cook. At the end of the evening, he is introduced to the rat behind it all, and, surprisingly, rights a wonderful review about it.
One thing I didn't mention, though, was the health inspector had shown up in the middle of all the rats cooking. The rats had tied him up until the evening was over, but as a result of seeing all the rats, the restaurant was closed down, and the food critique lost his reputation. However, he decided to invest in a new restaurant ran by Linguini and Colette, called La Ratatouille.
Great Books Class Bad Poetry Nathaniel, Abby, Logan, Claire
Now listen good people, And hear me tell, The tragic tale of Attila the Bun, Hero of the commons.
There once was a city, Geneva, A European Union of United Nations Gathered to have a convention, With noble Jack Iraq the 14th.
Their convention's objective Was inventing new torture, Namely, to panic. Or so thought the commons.
Panic was the reaction of the commons, But one Attila the Bun Was too dumb to panic He baked his pastries and tastries.
Attila, he also made Cookies of terrible smell To solve his addiction To mustard.
But alas! The panic that convention ensued! The chief cause of panic was That none entering the castle Had ever returned.
Attila the Bun Went on a run, To deliver his pastries To the dreadful nobles.
Attila entered the convention And smelled the greatest smell. He saw a pile of bones and heard The sound of munching.
Further investigating, Attila discovered behind the bare bones, Jack Iraq the 14th, Eating turkey and hurling bones.
With Jack Iraq sat Some good people: Dear friends, three friends, Of Attila the Bun.
The youngest was a Viking Bowman, Strong, and of good aim. Short and stout with a steady hand, His strength had won him fame.
The next, Attila's brother. In fact, his twin. Grown up together They both a-chewin' Fine mustard cookies. Yum.
The last, a hobbit, That lived in a Hoel. A light haired and light aired Sure one was he.
These three sat With Jack Iraq the 14th And on their laps they were holding Plates, and bowls, and cups, and cutlery.
In these were fowl, Soups, and English tea, And now to a saucer, Attila placed his pastries and sweet tastries.
"Stay! Eat! Be merry!" Said the good Jack Iraq. "We wish not for needless wars, But for needful peace."
Attila, alas! He was too dumb. He smiled and bowed, said he would come later. Then he skipped out the door And called the town crier.
"Go!" He said, "Tell the people! Gather the small and the tall To my pastry shop, And I'll give you a penny."
The crier ran and yelled as he went "Foes! Famine! Flood! Go to Attila the Bun! Meet him at the pastry shop! It's at the corner of the square!"
The people they ran, in a hurry they were, To see what had happened. With pitchforks and knives, With tin pans and horns, they ran.
There Attila did greet them. "Put your forks down! And your horns away! This is no war, but peace I say.
"Let us go to the castle And there let us eat! These good kings Have prepared us a treat!"
So leaving their weapons The people, they ran To the castle they went They ooed and they aahed
Impressed so they were To see such abundance, Such great wonder At this time of the year.
So Attila the Bun became a hero. But this was not to last long, I fear. For dear Attila, he curled up and died From O.D.ing on sugar, and that, from a pie.
Special Thanks to Nano, Abby, and Logan, who were willing to be so weird and write oddities with me. I don't know if they know this is here.....
