First of all, this is a giant bummer.
So I have been wanting to try making kettlecorn since veteran's day. Mostly because we paid $15 for a bag of it and spent about 30 minutes watching some guy make it. This is when I found out that it can be made using maple syrup; I thought that sounded easy. Also since my brother owns a party rental business he happens to have a big bucket of popcorn that needs popping. If you get the urge to try this out without using any recipe, perhaps being anyone that might be over-confident in popcorn making ability, let me just forewarn you: the 'lite' kind we have in the house does not work and so I have just wasted kernels, oil, and syrup twice. I just read a recipe and they say it should be 100% maple syrup. Not sure if that is true, but I do know it was not working for me. If I heated up the syrup separately though it may have worked. I am tired of trying at this point. Plus all I need is corn syrup and I have all the ingredients to make this caramel corn with this recipe I just found. That sounds like a much better idea.
Gotta go!
Monday, November 26, 2012
Monday, November 19, 2012
What is this!?!?
Despite the fun that could be had, I will try not to analyze myself but only present my thoughts for the benefit of others to understand. For instance, let us begin our wild adventure, I find that I feel the need to explain myself but I cannot explain why I feel this way. As I said, it could be fun to break it down and hypothesize the 'why,' however that is not what we are here for. To be honest, I don't have the professional qualifications to do that. At this point, you may already have identified the need for this purpose. I can accept that, now let us get on with it.
On and around September 11, 2011; I spent a few days with some good friends. I am constantly having a conversation in my head, sometimes with my self, one might consider these as personal narratives, but at times these conversations are upgraded in severity, one might suggest, to fictitious dialogue; this dialogue takes place sometimes with representations of real people and other times completely fictitious people. It seems strange to explain it in words, but I am sure others understand this and do it as well. Have you ever mentally represented another party in a conversation that you were preparing to have? That is basically all I am explaining; however, sometimes I have these mental conversations and do not open my mouth to bring them into existence. Other times as I find myself exploring my mental understanding and contemplating the world, I will create a representative of someone in a role, such as a professor, boss, or any number of conceptualized individuals. It was on September 11, that one such conversation took place and as a result that I created the idea for this very blog. As the window of opportunity began to close on the emergence of an actual conversation that mirrored the mental representation I had been having, I began to consider the frequency of this very occurrence. Certainly I have not claimed to be ordinary, despite not being altogether that different, but perhaps taking normal to the extreme. I certainly believe I have more of these conversations than most or at the very least more that I try to ignore.
On and around September 11, 2011; I spent a few days with some good friends. I am constantly having a conversation in my head, sometimes with my self, one might consider these as personal narratives, but at times these conversations are upgraded in severity, one might suggest, to fictitious dialogue; this dialogue takes place sometimes with representations of real people and other times completely fictitious people. It seems strange to explain it in words, but I am sure others understand this and do it as well. Have you ever mentally represented another party in a conversation that you were preparing to have? That is basically all I am explaining; however, sometimes I have these mental conversations and do not open my mouth to bring them into existence. Other times as I find myself exploring my mental understanding and contemplating the world, I will create a representative of someone in a role, such as a professor, boss, or any number of conceptualized individuals. It was on September 11, that one such conversation took place and as a result that I created the idea for this very blog. As the window of opportunity began to close on the emergence of an actual conversation that mirrored the mental representation I had been having, I began to consider the frequency of this very occurrence. Certainly I have not claimed to be ordinary, despite not being altogether that different, but perhaps taking normal to the extreme. I certainly believe I have more of these conversations than most or at the very least more that I try to ignore.
Partial posts
In-case anyone noticed and is perhaps wondering what just happened; I just dumped a lot of partial work from my draft box. I am tired of it hanging around, hoping one day to get back to it. The truth is the moment was here to write something and I let it slip away. I thought too much and did not type enough. It happens more often than these few posts might indicate. Sometimes I have a thought and just run with it and never type anything and other times I do type something only to change my mind later and delete everything and walk away. I was about to do it again, but I just couldn't handle it happening. The problem with these blank posts is that the idea is still there demanding more time from me. I am afraid that is just not something I can afford.
I just awoke from some dream filled sleep. Yet as dreamy as that may sound it was all a little bit stressful. My dreams were fairly strange to say the least. At first I was trying to negotiate for the usage of a trailer or something like that, it made more sense when I was sleeping. My brother was actually texting someone last night trying to buy new equipment for his business and since I was doing the texting, I totally understand where that dream came from. Another dream was about a person. Suffice it to say it is someone I know a lot about, but have not spent a lot of time with. The dream was about being together among many people and basically being held separate by personal choice. This dream sort of caught me off guard; looking back on the day I am not really sure that this is where it came from. Well it is not totally surprising, but...
(At this point too much thinking is taking place and I am starting to sputter out.) the truth is there are things that I am not ready to share with the world. Some of those things I am probably just so indecisive that deep thought can easily sway my opinion and after all what I am to share is only an opinion.
I just awoke from some dream filled sleep. Yet as dreamy as that may sound it was all a little bit stressful. My dreams were fairly strange to say the least. At first I was trying to negotiate for the usage of a trailer or something like that, it made more sense when I was sleeping. My brother was actually texting someone last night trying to buy new equipment for his business and since I was doing the texting, I totally understand where that dream came from. Another dream was about a person. Suffice it to say it is someone I know a lot about, but have not spent a lot of time with. The dream was about being together among many people and basically being held separate by personal choice. This dream sort of caught me off guard; looking back on the day I am not really sure that this is where it came from. Well it is not totally surprising, but...
(At this point too much thinking is taking place and I am starting to sputter out.) the truth is there are things that I am not ready to share with the world. Some of those things I am probably just so indecisive that deep thought can easily sway my opinion and after all what I am to share is only an opinion.
Dear ,
To be extremely clear, this is a strongly worded letter. Several years ago when I got my first cell phone, it was through Cingular wireless. They were a great company and I was happy to be a customer, so happy in-fact that I forgot our relationship was bound by a contract. It was the epitome of mutual beneficence.
My father's son
Somewhere along the line, I stopped being funny. I used to make people laugh, people other than myself that is. I could have anyone rolling without even trying. Those were the days when no one called me an asshole, but I knew that I was. It was a gift and it was great.
Now everything seems so serious and my strange sense of humor is hardly funny to anyone but me. When you are not funny, people acknowledge that you are an asshole. Just because it is true does not make it hurt any less when others acknowledge it.
My dad, is always trying to be funny. He rarely is, but sometimes he is so not funny and thinks that he is, that I cannot help but crack a smile.
Now everything seems so serious and my strange sense of humor is hardly funny to anyone but me. When you are not funny, people acknowledge that you are an asshole. Just because it is true does not make it hurt any less when others acknowledge it.
My dad, is always trying to be funny. He rarely is, but sometimes he is so not funny and thinks that he is, that I cannot help but crack a smile.
Free me from chaos
"What do you want me to say?" she said.
That is the stupidest question I have ever heard, in my entire life. I would like to have seen my face as it happened too; probably looked as dumbfounded as I felt. I really do not remember what I said. Instead my brain pondered why she said what she did and what she meant by saying it. First of all, I had to ask myself if there was something I wanted to hear. Second, did this mean she only wanted to tell me what I wanted to hear, because I wanted to hear it? I think she probably knew what to say, but did not want to say it. I wanted her to be honest, I wanted to hear the truth. I may have said, "I don't want you to lie to me." In that moment logic failed me and I forgot that not lying is not always the same as being completely honest.
That is the stupidest question I have ever heard, in my entire life. I would like to have seen my face as it happened too; probably looked as dumbfounded as I felt. I really do not remember what I said. Instead my brain pondered why she said what she did and what she meant by saying it. First of all, I had to ask myself if there was something I wanted to hear. Second, did this mean she only wanted to tell me what I wanted to hear, because I wanted to hear it? I think she probably knew what to say, but did not want to say it. I wanted her to be honest, I wanted to hear the truth. I may have said, "I don't want you to lie to me." In that moment logic failed me and I forgot that not lying is not always the same as being completely honest.
Purpose
I have been doing a lot of thinking on this over the last few weeks, purpose. If you have read any number of posts up until this point, I am sure you have heard how I do a lot of that, thinking. Hopefully this is not another one of those posts where I whine about all the chaos between my ears that just will not come out (no matter how much poking or prodding any of us do, so whoever is doing that stop mkay thx)! In all seriousness, at least for another couple of seconds, I have been considering the purpose of this blog. Clearly I initially began with a purpose and that purpose can even be found in my initial post or Introduction. So do not think that what I am doing here now is searching for purpose. That is not it at all, it is more like evaluating.
Honestly it is not looking good. The words colossal failure come to mind. Not that everything I have written has been garbage, only the vast majority of everything I have written; however, I have found very little satisfaction in anything that I have written. Too often I find there is very little substance and far too much time expenditure.
Honestly it is not looking good. The words colossal failure come to mind. Not that everything I have written has been garbage, only the vast majority of everything I have written; however, I have found very little satisfaction in anything that I have written. Too often I find there is very little substance and far too much time expenditure.
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