Thursday, March 25, 2010

100 Feet of Noodle in Every Package

Upon catching up on my friend's blogs this morning I realize how ridiculous my life/thought process may be to some of you. But alas, I find joy in the simple pleasures of single life and the fact that I can have advanced conversations about things that "don't matter". With that said...

Upon returning from the gym last night, Linx and I sat down to a smorgasbord of food(cue Templeton). I'd venture to say that there were probably 5 small meals consumed between the two of us, one of hers being Top Ramen. note: She has recently converted from Chicken to Chili flavor, which is upsetting but also a little refreshing. This is when something that has been bothering me for quite a while was brought to the table. Why do I call it "Top Ramen"? The package just says Ramen and "Top" isn't a thing. I think I first realized that people were calling it something else when I moved up here, so is it an Arizona thing? My family? My friends? Then went out the mass text.

The results. 4 people called it just "Ramen". 4 "Ramen Noodles". and 9 "Top Ramen". At first the only people who called it "Ramen Noodles" were from the East so I really thought I was onto something, but with more surveying that night, a couple of westerners ruined that theory. But those two are weird, so I will keep investigating that. The one thing that I am sure about is that all the members of the Tic-Tac-Toe club were adamant Top Rameners (except for Linx whose college life has confused her). This isn't surprising considering the amount of time we spent together.

Anyway, Linx jumped on the computer to figure out what was going. Here's what we've found. A. I'm not the only one with this question bc there is a whole chat on yahoo about the issue. B. The brand Nissin calls their ramen Top Ramen, hence the "Top". And don't worry, my source on yahoo answers is legit. "Supermum" says: "I've known and eaten this product since it first came out on the market." Turns out that everyone is also convinced that Nissin's Top Ramen is just a little bit tastier and has thicker noodles. However, it is more expensive so you can be sure that I've been eating Maruchan for years now.

As for why I call all ramen "Top Ramen" and never realized that that wasn't really what it was called? Unsolved Mystery(like the show I watched religiously while I ate Top Ramen). Nissin didn't start calling it "Top Ramen" until 2000, well after I had memorized the recipe and mastered the understanding of the perfect noodle texture. Both Nissin and the cheaper Maruchan are produced in California, thus shooting down my East vs. West theory. Maybe it's just because I'm from Scottsdale so we splurged the extra 10 cents and went for Top Ramen.

If you think this whole thing is ridiculous then let me tell you that a poll showed that the Chinese believe that Ramen is their MOST important invention. That's above the cd, and some other awesome things that I can't remember. That would have sounded more legit if I could have found the source again.

Let the research continue. In the meantime I'm going to make this Ramen Pizza recipe that I stumbled upon.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Bacon-wrapped Orange Chicken

I like to exaggerate a lot, but when I say that last night was one of the worst eating experiences of my life I am being honest. The idea of a wing eating contest seemed good. However, in my head I had imagined delicious wings from Uncle Sam's. Straight chicken, natural amounts of skin, and delicately sauced. This is why I predicted that I would make it to the mid-20s. It was at about wing #2 that I said to myself: "Hey! These wings are disgusting and I wouldn't eat them if you paid me." But since my pride was on the line, I kept my mouth stuffed with chicken, excess skin and cartilage, and sauce, so much sauce. I didn't express my true feelings until Cody realized that in fact, these wings tasted like bacon. What is my favorite breakfast meat? Sausage. Everybody knows that.

I was happy that Linx entered as an illegal/"rogue" competitor. Her body has the ability to sustain a lot more grease and cartilage than my own. She was Cody's true rival in this game. However, if she wouldn't have been there, I could have respectfully withdrawn much sooner and saved myself a lot of pain.

Last night was bad. I was like a snake that had just eaten a large animal and you could see it just sitting there waiting to be digested. No position was comfortable. Linx and I tossed and turned in between drinking as much water as possible. The salt intake was horrendous. It's 10:24 am. I have no intention of eating any food today, I feel no hunger. I am SO THIRSTY and my mouth feels like when you eat too much pineapple-I know this feeling all too well.

Worth it? Yes. I got to wear a bib. So many outrageous things were said and done. And so many good friends were there. I love them. And most importantly, I have a legitimate reason to never eat at Winger's again.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Thanks Avril, for keeping it real

Let me paint a picture for you. I get out of class early and head over to the library to stake out a spot at a computer before the devotional starts. The library gets pretty packed at 11 on Tuesdays when those of us that are just a little less righteous, and a little more behind on homework, use this hour as study hall instead of a time to be spiritually uplifted at the weekly devo. There are plenty of computers open in the beloved Map Section when I arrive. Only seconds after I log onto my computer a guy comes over and wiggles the mouse on the computer next to me. Nothing. He moves over to the next computer successfully. Then comes another guy. Wiggles mouse, presses buttons. Nothing. He then asks me if anyone has used it since I've been here. Nope. Confirmed. The computer next to me doesn't work. Great. Now every time somebody so much as glances at that computer it is MY responsibility to break the news to them. I have run into this problem before and ignoring the situation is always awkward. You sit there, waiting to see how long they will mess around before realizing it doesn't work, and they always look at you like, "Hey, thanks for not telling me this one doesn't work, you clearly knew." So it is my duty, as an honorable BYU student to save them the hassle. It's going to be a busy devotional hour.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

He was wearing a hat!

It's funny how the longer you live, the more you learn about yourself. I feel like I'm just starting to scratch the surface of who I am. The most recent discovery I've had is that I seem to have a problem internalizing faces. Allow me to explain. Once I meet someone, I will for sure recognize them when I see them. I'm great with names and I remember people that often don't know I exist. However, if asked to think of what someone looks like in my head...nothing.

Still not sure what's going on? Allow me to continue. This problem has slowly surfaced this year with men. On several occasions I have answered the door when a guy has come to pick up Linx for a date. We all know the two reasons for this: #1a. If possible you should never open the door yourself for a date and #2b. Your friends need as much face time as possible in order to form an opinion. Linx is continuously frustrated with me when she returns and asks me "Do you think he's cute?" And honestly I have no response...I can't remember what he looks like! The other night I hung out with her and a guy in the loft for a good hour. The next day she asked me what I thought about his looks. She wasn't even surprised when I told her I wasn't sure what he looked like. It was dark okay!

Low lighting, hats, short amounts of time, lots of pressure to form an opinion. All of these things cause me to freak out and forget that I should be looking them in the face! But then I had a realization that was down right scary. I went on a date with a kid last weekend. I had previously spent a lot of time with him pre-date. We spent about 7 hours together on the date, just the two of us. For a good hour I was even sitting across from him looking at his face, deep in conversation. It was only dark for about half of the time. The other day, after suspecting I had a problem, I tried to imagine what he looked like in my head. I HAVE NO IDEA. Part of the problem is that he reminds me of someone, so I can only imagine what that guy looks like. I confessed this to Linx. She rolled her eyes. Apparently it shouldn't matter that he was wearing a hat.

Friday, March 5, 2010

A Body Bag Round 2

You guessed it, the drug house strikes again! Let me get you guys up to speed. You may recall last semester when we witnessed a dead person wheeled out on a stretcher. Since then much has happened.

A couple of weeks ago Linx and Andrew came running into the apartment with news of a naked woman outside. Of course we turned off the lights, opened the window and enjoyed the show. Two guys were walking down the street in suits, at midnight on a Friday night I might add, and one of them had given the naked woman his jacket. When I tuned in the police had been called and all that could be seen were her white legs. The boys left and let the police take care of business. We watched for probably ten minutes as Naked Woman pranced around dodging the police. They obviously didn't want to touch her, she is crazy after all, so they kept their distance and followed her time and time again as she skipped around the house next door to hers. She was trying to convince them that it was hers, but everyone involved knew exactly where she came from. Finally they coaxed her inside the drug house at which point the boys returned, and said suit jacket was returned. We laughed as they walked home, the kid carrying his jacket with two fingers and extended away from his body.

Fast forward to last night. Sac and I returned from a movie and noticed FIVE police cars across the street. PERFECT. We alerted Linx and positioned ourselves by the kitchen window. At first things were pretty boring, just talking on the front porch. Finally, the cops busted out some handcuffs and awkwardly arrested a man. They stood on the sidewalk for a long time patting him down before they popped him into the back of one of the cars. Then another cop opened the back of his car to let a woman out. They chatted for a while and she continued to thank him fifty times before she went back into the house. Our verdict is domestic dispute.

I'd also like to quickly mention that on two occasions we have seen unknown people laying in the street with people trying to help movement.

Who knew that we were going to get so much entertainment from this house! I love it.