Of heroins and brownie mix

I have just decided that I am going to be the heroin of my own story.

"Aren't you always?" They say.

Nay! Sometimes, people (myself) are silly and allow others to be the heroes/heroins of their stories. So, my life is now going through a major editing session. Basically, I am re-writing everything. The characters are currently under major renovation, and the plot is going to change dramatically. Don't worry, every thing will be essentially the same...well, as far as the word "essentially" can be stretched. Ok, you get the gist.

-------------

Chocolate is probably the best discovery(next to the discovery of milk chocolate). Brownies are probably the noblest use of chocolate is the whole universe. Scratch that, they ARE the noblest.

New recipes rather scare me sometimes. Does it really taste as good as it says it does? Will it affect how people view my cooking if I follow the recipe and it is terrible?

You know, the basic paranoia.

This brownie mix claimed to be "easy." It was right there in the title, "Easy Brownies." I figured, "Well, I want the most chocolaty goodness with the least amount of effort. Let's give it a try."

That may one day win a spot with other famous last words. But I digress.

First I preheated the oven (it takes a while to heat up sometimes). Then, I set to work on the batter (a liquid or semi-liquid mixture, as opposed to dough: a soft, thick mixture). It was relatively easy.

The oven was preheated and the brownies were ready to be baked (to cook with a dry heat, more specific than "cook" which is to prepare by applying heat).

I opened the oven door, put the pan in, and WHAM! My eyes started to burn and my nose was hurting from the smoke.

I hate oven cleaner. It never comes all the way off the first five times wiping it out. It smells awful and is probably poisonous to normal people. Why do we use it? Because we are inherently lazy beings that do not want to do more than we have to, even at the cost of our longevity.

I grabbed the brownies out of the toxic oven when I was finally able to concentrate on something besides my burning eyes. I was very, very upset.

But, to make a long story short...er, I finished baking them at a friends house where they were received with much joy and celebration.

The End.

P.S. The new recipe is decent, not my favorite.

Lesson learned

After a long day at school, I like to go home, relax, and eat food. As I went into my room to drop off the torture devices I have to carry, disguised as books, I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

My room faces the backyard, there should not be anything there, except maybe a few rambunctious children. But there was something there, and it was looking me straight in the face.

It was a lion. Honest to goodness, a lion was lounging in the backyard staring into my window. I don't lie...often, and this is not one of those times. I decided to call him Reginald, because he looked so regal...even while lazying about.

Reginald kept his vigil by my window for a day or so, and then he just disappeared. He took my heart with him.

As it turns out, his name is really Leo, and he belongs to another.

The moral of the story: Don't trust lions that are lying around in the backyard looking into your window, they're no good.

Tale of the Charger.

Recently, my laptop changer has been finicky. That, and it heats up an awful lot, it almost burnt me a couple of times. I was getting a little frustrated with it, but no big deal.

Well, yesterday, I was charging my laptop while sitting in our kitchen area (if you have seen my apartment, you understand more of what I mean). One of my many roommates, Brownie Queen, was sitting next to me, and we were discussing the universe and how I was ever so essential to it being in existence. She needs to do some homework so she gets up, takes a step, and trips over something. At the same time, my laptop rushes towards the edge of the counter while twirling to complete a 90 degree turn. I look down, and the plug to my computer is bending the wrong way. My first sub-conscience thought is, "Whoa, that is not natural." What came out of my mouth was, "You broke it."

Really, it is no big deal. One of my other roommates, Fiancee, has the same computer as I do so I am using her charger while I invest in a new one...or a new computer. Besides, now I get to tear apart a charger.

I am generally a very safety conscious person, so when I decided to demolish the broken thing, I made sure that it was unplugged.

Then I wanted to see if it worked, so I plugged it back in. Regrettably, it didn't work.

So I decided to strip-down to the wires a little more.

Fiancee saw me doing that. In a slightly worried tone she said, "Dear, is it unplugged?"

"Of course, I'm not that silly."

But, she made me wonder. Ergo, I asked Russian Spy to see if it was unplugged. She checked, looked at me and said, "No, it's not."

"Haha, I guess I might be silly sometimes."

Later that day------------

I went to the store to buy some electrical tape so I could fix my plug. By holding it just right, I could get it to charge...a little.

By this time, there was no rubber, just little wires naked to the whole world.

The anatomy of a plug for a charger- At one end there is a little nub that is almost perfectly smooth and round that picks up the electric current to a wire that is surrounded by white rubber (just so you know) at the other end.

As I put them together, sometimes there would be a blue spark and a sizzling sound. Spark sizzle, spark sizzle. The bright lights entranced me, but that is almost beside the point. I was trying to find the sweet spot so I could tape it to make it stay. I kept getting harder and harder to find the sweet spot. When I took the time to look at the nub and wire, I found that the nub was no longer smooth. It now had either metal acne or cancer. Apparently, I soldered some of the wiring to the nub. That is funny.

My charger doesn't work anymore...and there is now no way to save it. What a great adventure. Besides, now I have electrical tape, woohoo!

The Wealth of Entertainment has vanished. Entertainment is now below the poverty level.

Personally, blogs are great when the writer has an over-flowing pool of creativity and a lot of free time. Since I have neither...well, we'll just leave that there. Apparently I think that I still have a lot of extra time, and although I realize that I am lacking in creativity right now, I am still writing.

A short story (and because of my attention span, my short stories are truly short). I was late for class again the other day, and was walking through our administrative building (a short-cut) when low-and-behold I see none other than the president of the University. We made eye-contact for about a half a second. The only thing running through my head was, "Oh man, I hope he doesn't remember me later." I felt so ashamed. My classes that day were a little less than fantastic...I was so bummed. Not to mention, I was late because I had to print off a paper that wasn't actually due that day. But, as all of my stories go, there is a happy ending. It was a Friday, and I didn't have to worry about my paper for the whole weekend. Thus, I had the rare chance of having a relatively stress-less weekend. The end.

I'm always right because I told you I was lacking in creativity...hmm, but my story was kinda long...well, we can't win them all.