Random Thoughts....

flydiscovery said:
Hopefully they're just misaligned. Do you have an astigmatism?
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No, just nearsighted. Luckily not as bad as I used to be. These new glasses are a lesser prescription than my previous ones. I'm quite sure the lens is just slightly off, if I concentrate I can focus well enough, but it's still slightly blurry.
 
Topgearfanatic said:
Speaking of glasses, I really hate when they do "Is this better, or this?" I can't tell the difference, it's too small of one.
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Just ask them to go back in forth a few times, you wont annoy them as that is the point, eventually you pick things out that you can see better.
 
Holy epic cooking fail #29843095790321883201 for me.

I give up. Kitchen wins. I fail.

Every single freaking time I use the oven, the damn fire alarm goes off. EVERY SINGLE TIME. I don't get it. How does anything get cooked without burning in that retarded piece of machinery?!

Okay, I kind of got how to do crab cakes once without burning them. But that was once out of a whole bunch of times, and I give up. Not everything is a prepackaged crab cake full of win. Every other time, crap catches on fire.

Only this evening, it was at another person's house. I was babysitting for one of my friends, and she left a pizza. Little did I know it was an unmicrowaveable pizza that goes into the oven.

First off, I couldn't figure out how to preheat the oven. I turned it on, set it to "bake" at "400" like the box said, but there wasn't a nice little "done" light like there is on those little microwave toaster oven-thingies (which I've slightly figured out a little better than big ovens). So, I asked the kids and explained that I didn't really know how to use an oven. Oops. I mean, I sort of know, and I should be able to figure this crap out, but nope. Then I end up calling the mom and asking how to preheat it. Should be ready and "preheated" after five minutes, so w00t, I'd inadvertently figured that one out while I was wondering how the heck to preheat the silly thing.

Then the pizza got stuck on the rack. And I got mad at it. And I yelled at it. And that was really embarrassing, because I was like, "um, kids, it's not cool to throw temper tantrums," but luckily, they just thought it was funny. Still, I was apologizing profusely about that for the rest of the night. (Luckily, the worst word I said loudly where they would hear it was "freakin'," as in "GET IN THE FREAKIN' OVEN!"--all while poking a mass of dough with a plastic stick into a flaming hot oven full of metal bits that would brand my forearm like a moocow's butt.

Box said to give it 19 to 20 minutes to cook. Cool. I set the timer for 20, but wanted to keep a watch on it after ten minutes or so, for obvious reasons. Checked on it after five--not burning. Decided to sit down and e-mail my project group about our crap that's due next week.

Not even ten minutes: smoke alarm is BLARING. He-kid actually comes away from his PS3 wondering about the noise. She-kid asks if it's edible.


Aughh.


FTR, it was edible, but that meant I got stuck with the burnt edge 'cause I felt bad.
 
I like to make ad eat pastat


I would like a shower but I have to drive the subarus
 
The oven in my old apartment always set the fire alarm off too. However, that was probably the result of years of college kids collectively failing at cooking.
 
Oh dear Ninjacoco. I'd love to help, but I think I can only leave you the phone number for pizza hut. Cooking is patience, reading, patience, following directions, and patience.

Kat, it's 1am in Mass. I think you can safely shower before the car dealer opens.

I'm kicking myself right now for letting myself splurge on a huge coke at dinner. Now I'm going to be up ALL frigging night. I knew I should have had the sprite. What a stupid decision.
 
BUT I have school first
and need sleep.
I am just going to say I am done with essay before I put in pirate zombies
 
Speaking of glasses, my grandmother spoiled me. I've been looking at glassware for beverages, and because of her I'm wanting Waterford as that's what she had and I always helped her set the tables for our family dinners. After setting 28 settings across the two dining tables with China from the early 1900's, Waterford Crystal, and family heirloom English silver cutlery dating to the 1800's.... well the stuff from department stores doesn't cut it for me- it just feels cheap.

I know I sound spoiled, but that's because it's true. My fathers' side of the family is fairly well off and heavy on the traditional way to do things, so everything was done "proper" and with high quality stuff.

:dunno:
 
There is an owl glass there, Next to it is an owl glass.
 
ninjacoco said:
Holy epic cooking fail #29843095790321883201 for me.

I give up. Kitchen wins. I fail.

Every single freaking time I use the oven, the damn fire alarm goes off. EVERY SINGLE TIME. I don't get it. How does anything get cooked without burning in that retarded piece of machinery?!
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Little do you know, oven-cooked pizza directions err on the side of hella caution. You can safely shave 50 degrees and 5 minutes off most of the listed directions on those damn things. Also "directly on the oven rack" is suicidally stupid. However, you don't want to use a baking sheet either (because that will cause the pizza to cook improperly) - you want to use a wire rack that you can sit the pizza on top of and remove by grabbing the rack. If the pizza came with a cardboard circle underneath it, save it and transfer the pizza back onto it after cooking for convenient cutting. If not, cutting the pizza can and will be an exercise in frustration unless you have a bigassed cutting board.

I have frozen pizza cooking down to a fucking SCIENCE because it's my primary at-home food.
 
Nabster said:
Speaking of glasses, my grandmother spoiled me. I've been looking at glassware for beverages, and because of her I'm wanting Waterford as that's what she had and I always helped her set the tables for our family dinners. After setting 28 settings across the two dining tables with China from the early 1900's, Waterford Crystal, and family heirloom English silver cutlery dating to the 1800's.... well the stuff from department stores doesn't cut it for me- it just feels cheap.

I know I sound spoiled, but that's because it's true. My fathers' side of the family is fairly well off and heavy on the traditional way to do things, so everything was done "proper" and with high quality stuff.

:dunno:
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I'm like that with tools. My ancesteral hand tools are awesome and I have problems buying new ones to replace the ones that give in to age or just dissapear.

However, I have noticed something kind of alarming. Department store glassware BLOWS MASSIVE CHUNKS. Glassware from the dollar store, however, is occasionally LEGENDARY in quality - at only a freaking dollar a piece!
 
EyeMWing said:
I'm like that with tools. My ancesteral hand tools are awesome and I have problems buying new ones to replace the ones that give in to age or just dissapear.

However, I have noticed something kind of alarming. Department store glassware BLOWS MASSIVE CHUNKS. Glassware from the dollar store, however, is occasionally LEGENDARY in quality - at only a freaking dollar a piece!
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The dollar store is a mystical entity. Otherworldly glassware of all sorts, but the most horrible incarnations of things that should be cheap anyway (toothpicks and plasticware come to mind).
 
It depends on where you live too, because they have a majority stock of overpriced, ultra cheap crap but they get random closeouts too. When I was living in Norfolk, where the company is based (ok technically they're in Chesapeake but same difference), you wouldn't believe the stuff that came through those stores. It was like a different place every time you went in. Here the merchandise almost never changes, i.e. they get no closeouts at all. I've been so disappointed.

Grr. I still can't sleep. I wonder if I have any benadryl lying around.
 
katwalk said:
No I am nocturnal I will demand night job where it is light out on both ends then I go to sleep.
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No you don't. Coming home and sleepping when it's light out sucks ungodly amounts of eggs.
 
Crazyjeeper said:
^Nyquil or a stiff drink would do it ;)
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Oh man Nyquil is evil for me, at least the old formulation. Giving me pseudoephedrine (aka old sudafed) AND diphenhydramine (aka benadryl) at the same time is just asking for trouble. That's when I start doing psycho stuff like cleaning the windows with a high fever because I CANNOT sit still and then falling asleep at the table or on the floor or something. I do NOT do pseudoephedrine well! I can never remember what all is in new Nyquil, and phenylehperine (aka new sudafed PE) doesn't make me quite as loopy, but I'll stick with my pills. I'll go dig through the med box and see what's around.

As for the booze, the house is all dried out ATM.
 
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Ramseus said:
No you don't. Coming home and sleepping when it's light out sucks ungodly amounts of eggs.
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Didn't really bother me any when I had a night job. Of course, most of my friends don't go to bed until 4am or work at nights anyway, so we could always hang out at the Waffle House or see a late movie.

And for those of you who've never lived in the southeast USA or seen one, here's what a Waffle House is.
 
WHAT's this blasphemy? People don't know Waffle House? But where do they go for bad coffee, greasy bacon, and skanky women? Ok I've only heard about the last.
 
ninjacoco said:
Holy epic cooking fail #29843095790321883201 for me.

I give up. Kitchen wins. I fail.

Every single freaking time I use the oven, the damn fire alarm goes off. EVERY SINGLE TIME. I don't get it. How does anything get cooked without burning in that retarded piece of machinery?!

Okay, I kind of got how to do crab cakes once without burning them. But that was once out of a whole bunch of times, and I give up. Not everything is a prepackaged crab cake full of win. Every other time, crap catches on fire.

Only this evening, it was at another person's house. I was babysitting for one of my friends, and she left a pizza. Little did I know it was an unmicrowaveable pizza that goes into the oven.

First off, I couldn't figure out how to preheat the oven. I turned it on, set it to "bake" at "400" like the box said, but there wasn't a nice little "done" light like there is on those little microwave toaster oven-thingies (which I've slightly figured out a little better than big ovens). So, I asked the kids and explained that I didn't really know how to use an oven. Oops. I mean, I sort of know, and I should be able to figure this crap out, but nope. Then I end up calling the mom and asking how to preheat it. Should be ready and "preheated" after five minutes, so w00t, I'd inadvertently figured that one out while I was wondering how the heck to preheat the silly thing.

Then the pizza got stuck on the rack. And I got mad at it. And I yelled at it. And that was really embarrassing, because I was like, "um, kids, it's not cool to throw temper tantrums," but luckily, they just thought it was funny. Still, I was apologizing profusely about that for the rest of the night. (Luckily, the worst word I said loudly where they would hear it was "freakin'," as in "GET IN THE FREAKIN' OVEN!"--all while poking a mass of dough with a plastic stick into a flaming hot oven full of metal bits that would brand my forearm like a moocow's butt.

Box said to give it 19 to 20 minutes to cook. Cool. I set the timer for 20, but wanted to keep a watch on it after ten minutes or so, for obvious reasons. Checked on it after five--not burning. Decided to sit down and e-mail my project group about our crap that's due next week.

Not even ten minutes: smoke alarm is BLARING. He-kid actually comes away from his PS3 wondering about the noise. She-kid asks if it's edible.


Aughh.


FTR, it was edible, but that meant I got stuck with the burnt edge 'cause I felt bad.
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Sounds like the story of my life. Oh, and our oven doesn't have any TEMPERATURE NOTCHES on the dial. How are you supposed to bake a pizza at 400 degrees? I asked my roommate. "Guess," he said.

:unsure:

Also, I love Waffle House! I've only been there once, but unfortunately there's none anywhere north of the Mason-Dixon. Guess we Yankees aren't ready enough to accept such greasy late-night awesomeness.
 
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