Today I had a test at 11 AM. I have taken a lot of tests in
my day and I consider myself a good test taker. I usually finish before
everybody and I’m left looking around to make sure I didn’t go too fast. Then I
wait until somebody else turns in their test so I don’t feel like I went to
fast. Today’s test was for my Timber Structures class.
I had studied sufficiently for this particular test and I felt
alright going in. I had woken up around 8, taken a shower, and even had
breakfast, which for me is a rarity. I wanted to not be rushed, stressed,
hungry, thirsty, or anything to hinder my test taking skills. I got to the
classroom ten minutes early, sat down, and pulled out my calculator, pencil,
and eraser. I was set up for success.
Dr. Bagheri got to the room and handed out the formula
packet, which I thumbed through to familiarize myself with it. It looked
normal, and I felt that my chances in passing increased with it in my hand.
She then handed out the test, which I promptly wrote my name
on, as most people do.
Then it happened. The worst thing that could happen
happened. I went blind. Well sort of. It’s called “aura.” Basically I see spots
that fill my vision, much like someone gets when they come inside when it’s
bright outside, except that it lasts a whole lot longer. I knew I was doomed.
Then I got the pre-migrainal arch. It’s a tingly feeling
that starts in my right hand, moves up my arm into my face and then down my
left arm and out my left hand. While the spot is in each place, I lose most
strength in that area. So, gripping a pencil was next to impossible. Remember I
was basically blind at the same time.
The worst part of the aura was that part of the test was
reading tables with small tiny numbers. It would have been a breeze if I could
just wing it by writing big things, but yeah, no. When the pre-migrainal arch
moved to my mouth, my teeth started to chatter, which during a test is not
allowed.
When I get a migraine, my body temperature fluctuates like
crazy. So I started sweating. And then I was really really cold. Then I was
burning up. Then I was freezing.
Somehow, someway, the aura left and I was able to crank
through the test. I finished with no time left and was in a real weird state. I
went home, spent some time losing weight and slept the day away.
On October 26, I need everyone in the world to be saying a
prayer for me. I will be taking the FE exam. FE stands for Fundamentals of
Engineering and if I pass it, I will officially be an Engineering Intern. Right
after graduation this May, I can take the PE exam, and then with 4 years of experience
I will be a Professional Engineer. When I am a PE, I can put my stamp on
engineering drawings. As an engineering intern, I can work on those drawings. Eventually
I want to take the SE exam and become a licensed Structural Engineer.
Needless to say, the FE is a big step in my career path. It’s an 8 hour test (as is the PE; the SE is
16 hours long), given in two 4 hour blocks. The morning block is general
engineering and the afternoon block is discipline specific, which for me is
Civil.
Fortunately, I don’t have to memorize 800 formulas before I go
in. I have a 200 page exam book to use with necessary formulas.
The breakdown of the test, and how I feel on each topic are
as follows:
Morning Session:
Mathematics – 15%
-Math
isn’t the worst. It’s the basis of everything I do. The trouble could be in
remembering exactly how to integrate some formula. I seem to forget that quite
often.
Engineering Probability and Statistics – 7%
-All I remember
are bell curves which are standard deviation. Or something like that.
Chemistry – 9%
-Oh,
crap. Mass balances and… concentration maybe?
Computers – 7%
-I use
one every day, but how am I supposed to answer questions about them? The exam
book says I need to know terminology, programming, and if analysis. All of that
sounds like a piece of cake.
Ethics and Business Practices – 7%
-What I
remember of this is do whatever your client asks as long as its safe.
Engineering Economics – 8%
-Oh I crushed
this class. I got a 96% on the first test, a 98% on the second and didn’t have
to take the final. Cash flows are my plaything.
Engineering Mechanics (Statics and Dynamics) – 10%
-Ok,
statics (analysis of loads on systems that don’t move) is my bread and butter. Dynamics
is the bane of my existence. It is the hardest I have ever worked to barely
pass a class. I got a 25% on the first test. Granted, the class average was
27%.
Strength of Materials – 7%
-Also
my bread and butter. I can kill it in this class. The only thing I need to
seriously review is torque.
Material Properties – 7%
-Chalk
this one up as a loss.
Fluid Mechanics – 7%
-I think
this I could do this one. I know Bernoulli’s equation and the energy equation.
Dr. Dennett has really helped me understand what I never learned in this class.
Electricity and Magnetism – 9%
-I
think this is why I’m taking circuits right now?
Thermodynamics – 7%
-0º is cold. 500º is hot. I don’t think that’s
what they’re testing though.
Afternoon Session:
Surveying – 11%
- I had
a week long module in my capstone design class a couple weeks ago, and the one
day we did something, we stood out in a field with a stick and a GPS device
that did all the work for us.
Hydraulics and Hydrologic Systems – 12%
-Pipe
networks, water things, dams, I think I have this down fairly well. More or
less I’ve learned if the units check out, you’re doing something right.
Soil Mechanics and Foundations – 15%
-I do
not like soil mechanics or foundations. I don’t like dirt. I don’t like solving
mud equations.
Environmental Engineering – 12%
-We
reviewed these problems on Monday, and if the units check out, I’m doing it
right.
Transportation – 12%
-This
class was evil. I thought I was a genius all the way up until I took the test,
and then I felt like a moron. Chalk this up as a loss.
Structrual Analysis – 10%
-Oh
once again my bread and butter. I should probably review virtual work and
deflection, but I am not worried about this.
Structural Design -10%
-Unfortunately
I missed the review session for this tonight, but if I look at the codes and
the handouts, I should be familiar enough with it to do well.
Construction Management – 10%
-What
the… I’ve never taken this class. Uh cranes, lift things. Concrete pourers,
pour concrete. Build!
Materials – 8%
-I did
fairly well in this class, I liked playing with asphalt and concrete. In fact
they should make this section a lab section, because that was fun.
Well, I hope I pass. I’m putting my lucky toonie in my pocket to
better my chances.
I need to tackle an extremely important issue today. I find
what I saw to be very disturbing and it bothered me enough that I need to let
everyone know my views on the subject. It has to do with this bumper sticker I
saw yesterday:
There was another bumper sticker on the car that was rainbow
colored and said “Gay Pride,” indicating that there are lesbian mothers in this
family. Now I don’t care whether or not there’s two moms in that family because
they are gay or polygamist or whatever, that’s their own deal. I’m not here to
debate whether that is right or wrong.
What I have a problem with is the math. Mom squared is not
equal to two moms. When you square a number you do not simply add the number
with itself. That would be 2Mom or Mom x 2 or 2(Mom) however you want to write
it. When you square a number you multiply that number by itself. I have
attached drawings/math proofs for you to better understand this:
“Mom” can be defined as a female parent, just like “dad” can
be defined as a male parent. Therefore when you multiply a female parent by
itself it becomes a freak with four arms, legs, eyeballs, ears. Kind of like a Siamese
twin. So if these moms were trying to say that they’re Siamese twin moms then
they said the right thing with this bumper sticker. More drawings are attached for further proof:
Please, lesbian moms that live in the Meadow Ghetto, change your bumper stickers to be mathematically correct.
Today, I would like to talk to you about something holy.
“A man cannot own too many hats.” – Ted 3:4
These are my hats:
All stacked up on my shelf in my room.
This is the hat for my favorite team, the Avalanche. I
like the dark red. I take good care of it, because it looks real classy (unlike
their play of late).
My parents bought me this Avalanche hat for christmas
one year. I don’t like the low profile because I have a large head. Because of that,
it is in good shape.
This hat was a Christmas present from someone really cool. It’s the Astros current home hat.
This, even though it looks the same as the previous
hat, is a throwback Astros hat. I bought this in Florida, and it has a slight crook
to the left side when I wear it. It’s a little dirty.
This is another throwback Astros hat. I bought this
one in San Francisco with my mom. I had been looking for this one for years,
and happened upon it in a random shop. I grew up with the navy and gold Astros
uniforms. I like the gold a lot.
This is the first Astros hat I owned and it is very
beat up. That’s what happens sometimes.
My parents bought me this Astros batting practice cap
for Christmas one year.
This is the first Rockies hat I owned. It is 7 5/8,
and a little tight. It usually gives me a headache when I wear it.
So I got this same hat, a 7 ¾. It is looser and
doesn’t give me a headache. I would say this is my most worn hat.
This is the first piece of gear I had for Nevada. My
grandparents sent me it when I got accepted into the University of Nevada. They
were way excited for me to become a part of the Pack.
This is a hat I got at an Aces’ game. I like the old
wolf logo.
I bought this hat in
Camden Yards before the Orioles switched to this as their everyday hat. It was
still a throwback then, and has subtle differences to what they wear now, such
as the bird.
And no MLB insignia
on the back. I love how this hat looks, especially the white panel, and the
stitching along the rim of the front panel.
Sam Burdick bought me
this hat, and I love it. Green is my favorite color, and I think the Kelly
green and royal blue is a classy combination.
He bought it for me
mostly because I had decided that the Johnny Canuck logo is the best in all of
sports. Even though they aren’t my favorite team, I wear this hat as often as I
can.
My grandpa bought me this hat for my birthday and
said, “No Kendall should not have an A’s hat.”
See above.
This was my Christmas
present to myself in 2011. Jared had to work on Christmas day, so Dustin and I
went snowboarding. I forgot a beanie, and bought this one. It is very warm and
way comfortable. When I ride through the trees, branches and needles get stuck
in it and I feel cool.
I like wearing this
beanie throughout the winter because it is loose and reversible. Two for one
type of deal.
I got this beanie for
running (aka beating my dad) in the Colder Boulder. It was really cold, and if I
ever run when it’s cold, I wear this. But really, I never run in the cold. I kept this as a trophy for smoking my dad.
Needless to say, I need/want more. And I will get more. "A man cannot own too many hats."
There are prettier places in the world, but there’s no place
like home. My family’s home has 4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a basement, and all
the other amenities of a normal home. It’s in a large neighborhood, called the
Meadows, in a town, called Castle Rock, in the suburbs of Denver. It was built
in 1992, but we’ve only lived there since 1995. There are at least 100 other
houses in that neighborhood that look the exact same. It’s a cookie-cutter
house. This is our house on Google Maps:
It’s a very generic house
with a basketball hoop in front. Nobody really shoots basketballs anymore, it’s
mostly used as a post to tie up the dog when he’s in the front yard.
This is looking out our house during a blizzard:
And at it, after:
There are wood floors throughout most of the house. Most of
the wood is honey colored, very light. It's oak, I believe. Don't quote me on that though, I'm not a logger. They look like this:
The walls are subtle shades of grey,
with one red wall in the dining room. The family room has blue walls. When you
walk into the house, the first thing you see is a 6’x3’ picture of pineapples
hanging in the living room. I think that sums up the feel of the whole house.
There are a lot of stairs in the house. The family room is split from the rest of the first floor. The master bedroom is split from the rest of the second floor. All of our knees crack as we walk up the stairs. It’s a Kendall thing.
One bannister has Dustin’s name carved in it. He didn’t carve it though. I did, because I wanted to get him in trouble.
At different times, I’ve lived in each of the three
non-master bedrooms, and in the basement. One room has green walls halfway up
to resemble a baseball stadium. Another (which has mostly been my sisters’
room) has stars on the walls. The third has camouflage walls. The basement had curtains. The second story
bathroom has a baseball theme with yellow and grey walls and some pin striping
and old fashioned baseball logos.
The family room has a brick fireplace. Every Christmas, we
have taken pictures of the family hanging stockings. My mom has taken all of
those pictures and put them on a wall in the hallway between the living room
and family room. On the opposite wall, there are the mission plaques for the
four of us. Now that Jared is home, that is complete. There’s a few family
pictures scattered around the house. We aren’t much of a family for family
pictures. If you ever end up there, you can see the family picture with Dustin,
Jared, and I and our bleached blonde hair. The 90s were weird. The favorite family
picture is the one with me eating a grilled cheese sandwich, Jared blowing
bubble gum, and Dustin’s foot in Jaimee’s face. That
photo shoot took some time to get a normal picture.
The living room has vaulted ceilings, so every year we get a ridiculously huge Christmas tree. One year the tree fell on Dustin. I wish it did that every year.
The living room also has a big window that has incredible views. This is our view of Pikes Peak:
This is view of some of the other mountains around us:
We have wild rabbits everywhere. There's an owl that lives in the tree behind our house. You can hear coyotes at night. Sometimes there are foxes that run around our house.
The backyard is on a slope. We built a rock wall at the top
for a garden. The dog usually walks around the wall and knocks some of the
rocks off. The dog has also created these paths throughout the backyard, so
there’s no grass where he always walks. Dogs are weird.
I don’t know why, but as kids we thought the coolest thing
was to be able to climb the fences. We would climb the fences and sit on them
for hours. Kids are weird.
The backyard has a brick patio that is all sorts of not
level. There’s a fire pit on the edge of the porch. One night my friends and I were
having trouble starting a fire. So we used gasoline. There was a fireball that
scorched the trees around it. Jaimee freaked out on me. I don’t know why. It
started a fire.
The garage is supposed to hold 2 cars, but has only ever had
one. The dog has a kennel in the corner where he should sleep every night (he
sleeps inside because he’s spoiled). The other side has random things like
tools, bikes, hockey gear, baseball gear, and other collected crap. During the
summer, I would pull the car out of the driveway and shoot hockey pucks up the
driveway into the garage. There was a table against the wall that I would use
as a goal. The wall ended up looking like this:
One puck made it all the way through to the other side.
Oops.
We used to play wiffle ball in the front yard and cul-de-sac all summer long. We'd pitch to each other in the backyard with real baseballs sometimes. Our neighbor hated how many fence panels we destroyed with errant pitches.
It’s not a mansion. It’s not fancy. It’s got
nicks and dings and scratches and scars. It’s my home.
I've been eating more vegetables lately. That doesn't mean
that I’m a healthier eater. Just that it’s been there and I've eaten it.
Asparagus, tomatoes, salad, etc. Things like beets, Brussels sprouts, and broccoli?
Still going to make me gag. Did I enjoy them? Yeah, sure.
If I had to recommend reading one thing on the internet, at
this point in my life, I would recommend Katie Baker’s weekly column on Grantland. She is as hyped by the Oilers’ young guns as I am. She “Nail”s it
every Thursday. It helps that I am in Geotech lab, which is boring, and I sit
in front of a computer for an hour while Andrew lectures on who knows what, so I
can watch each week’s sickest snipes. This video she posted one week is my favorite celebration ever.
Whenever I go on vacation I forget to bring music. I detest the radio, so I always buy one CD to listen to in the car. One trip was Neon Bible
by Arcade Fire. My trip to DC was Brothers by The Black Keys. So now, every
time I listen to them, I thinking of sweating like crazy and taking a million
pictures of famous places. Also I think of driving along two lane highways of Virginia, Maryland,
and Pennsylvania on my way from my cousins’ house to Gettysburg to Camden
Yards. It was a good vacation. This was my favorite memorial on that trip. It
is right outside of Arlington Cemetery. I like it because my Great Grandfather
was a Seabee.
I don’t know how braggable this is, but I have become an
excel wizard. Give me something to do on a spreadsheet and consider it done, sahn.
My favorite show is Shameless. It is about a family in South
Chicago that has all odds stacked against them, and sometimes everything works
out in their favor, but most times nothing works out in their favor. It is
compelling. If it was easy, it wouldn't be hard.
Next week's season finale is going to be good.
I've been struggling with school the last few weeks. I
bombed my last transportation test. I got a 58%. The first test I got a 92%. On
the last Geotech lab report we got back, our grade was a 14/20. The first
report we turned in, we got 20/20. I need to figure out how to focus right now,
but it’s not clicking. I’d rather read Calvin and Hobbes.
I watched Star Wars Episode III by myself on Saturday night
and it was excellent.
Jackson and I went to his parents’ house for Easter dinner
tonight and his dog attacked me. I hate that dog. I want to kick it every time I
see it. I held it down by the neck until someone grabbed him to take him in the
other room.
I have been on here a lot lately. I haven’t really had that
one person in my life to unload all my thoughts on, which is probably the
cause. Whenever I do, I’m silent on here for months. When I don’t, I’m always
typing up something useless. Look back at my summer in 2011. I was living at
home and had a total of one friend – Koda. I like being alone. I hate being
alone.
We hang out
I got a speeding ticket from a motorcycle cop a week ago. It
was in Sacramento. I was going 88 in a 65. Motorcycle cops don’t care for chit
chat. I've gotten two tickets from motorcycle cops, and they both said the same
things to me:
“I pulled you over for speeding, can I have your license, registration,
and proof of insurance?”
“Here’s your ticket. Slow down. Have a nice day.”
This last time I said, “Thank you.” For what? I felt like an
idiot as I drove away. Thank you for making me abide by the law, I guess. Thank
you for taking a chunk of change out of my wallet, I guess. Thank you for
making me be paranoid about cops for the rest of my trip, I guess.
I can track where all of my page views are coming from. So to the Russian that looked at my blog 28 times last Wednesday, thank you. (That is a real sincere thank you, not a thank you like I gave that cop).
This happened:
Today, April Fools, is my little brother’s birthday. Every
year I’m around for that, I give him an empty box, and every year I do that, I think
it is the funniest thing ever. He hates it. He hates most things I do. Like the
time he was ordained to the priesthood, he went around the room shaking hands.
When he got to me, I said, “Brothers don’t shake hands, brothers kiss.” And I planted
one on his cheek. He said, “You’re weird.”
I am excited to go home to my family in 2 weeks. Mostly I want
a haircut. My hair is at the stage that I hate it every day, so I just wear a
hat and hope for the best.
I went out to eat with a friend from school on Friday. We went
to Flowing Tide Pub and I had some amazing fish and chips. If you live in Reno,
go get some ASAP. Even the tartar sauce (which I usually detest) was delicious.
The fish was nice and juicy. And their chips are real good, like the wild fries
at Good Times.
SOMETIMES I LIKE TYPING IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE AS I SOUND IT
OUT IN MY MIND ITS LIKE I’M YELLING, BUT REALLY I’M JUST TYPING IN ALL CAPS.
NOT VERY DIFFERENT THAN NOT ALL CAPS. MANY HIPSTERS AKA KIESHA LIKE TYPING IN
NO CAPS EVER. THAT GETS REAL ANNOYING REAL FAST. OH, YOU’RE COOL BECAUSE YOU
THINK EVERYTHING SHOULD BE A WHISPER. ANNOYING.
My friend AdriAnne tagged me in her blog to write a follow
up questionnaire that she had on her blog. I've sort of been wanting to do it,
but really I don’t want my answers to sound so clever. And for that type of questionnaire,
if they aren't clever, it’s boring. I would rather be clever all on my own.
Sorry, AdriAnne, I know I’ll get around to it eventually. Really.
I have been leaving my phone at home during school so that I’ll
focus more and not sit in class playing spider solitaire and refreshing twitter
every 3 minutes. When I get home, I expect my phone to be blown up and have 18
messages to respond to. But usually I only have one or two messages from my
brother. I’m not saying I don’t mind that. It kind of is convenient that I don’t
have to respond to anyone. Just Rusty Dusty. And then it’s usually a stupid joke
that is always hilarious. “Buggle up, it’s fun.”
My sleep schedule the last couple of weeks has been stupid.
I never sleep at night anymore. I wish I did. The only days I get to sleep
before midnight anymore are Friday and Saturday. That means that I really
struggle making it to class on time and awake. I've been getting plenty of
headaches the last couple of weeks, and I’m attributing those to my lack of
sleep.
Sometimes, I try listening to the same music I listened to
in high school, and I make it about 2 songs into an album and get sick of it.
Living in Reno has been quite the experience. I have become
used to seeing the strip clubs, slot machines in grocery stores, adult stores,
glitzy lights of the casinos, and run down trailer parks. I tend to stay far
away from the downtown area at night, it lost its luster long ago. Most restaurants
open late, even on the weekends are in the casinos. The food there likes to
throw my stomach into fits, so usually I would much rather cook up a chicken
quesadilla at home and call it a night.
I moved closer to downtown, and my new roommate, Jordan, is
hungry 18.5 hours out of the day. My other roommate, Jackson is hungry at least
18 hours out of the day. So between the three of us, someone is always hungry.
Sometimes hangry.
It was Friday, somebody was hungry and nobody knew what to
eat. So we drove.
Also, I am the smallest of our group. And size-wise, I’m not
puny. Sure I might have small feet (same size 8s since the 7th
grade), but I’m still 6 foot and not skin and bone. On top of that, both Jordan and
Jackson hate the way I drive. I like to Tokyo drift around corners, back into
ATM bays, run pink lights, and listen to rock and roll at high volumes.
So naturally I drove my car – the smallest that any of us
own.
Jackson complained when my music was too loud. Jordan played
with the radio to annoy me. They both yelled when I played pac man with the
dotted line.
Most of all nobody had any idea of where to eat. Push came
to shove and we ended up driving up 8 floors of the parking garage of the El
Dorado casino.
We went to Tivoli, a typical casino café. I wanted to take
our server Sue home to be our mother. She was the nicest. When I chose to eat
the fried chicken on the biscuit she said I made the right choice and she’d
bring extra gravy out for me. It was greasy, cheap, and delicious. All the
things I was looking for. It filled me right up.
J and J (they’re bound to start a boy band) were feeling
like high rollers and wanted to gamble. You see, I’ve had my gambling phase and
I really don’t care much to throw money around for nothing; that stresses me
out. But you can basically talk me into doing anything, so we went to the Peppermill.
I saw my friend Jess on the way there and she said that I am a creep.
First we played roulette. Gracie was our dealer and she
memorized our names. I felt VIP. But really, I was spending about the lowest
you can spend while looking for an hour of gambling. We had fun and I got
pretty lucky. I turned the 60 in my pocket into 145. That’s a decent pull. Just
some change.
However, and here’s the moral of the story, the Blue Jays (get it Jackson? cause of the couch) lost 40 dollars apiece. So the moral goes:
don’t gamble, nobody wins. It’s useless. I taught them that lesson on the drive
home. Funny lessons you learn teaching kids every day. Psssh.
A boy lived with his family, as most boys do. His family
consisted of his Father, his Mother, his older Sister, his other older Sister,
and his older Brother.
The family lived isolated by a great river. This river
supplied millions of gallons of water daily to a very large city. The very
large city was considering damming the river to create a reservoir, because
demand for water had skyrocketed. This was due to many factors, principally
being that many people had moved from other places to the very large city. They
planned to use the reservoir for times of drought, when the river was reduced
to a trickle. The family feared losing their house to the impending
construction project.
As the city grew, the night sky became less dark. On the
horizon to the west, there was a faint glow where there was once a spilt
treasure chest of stars. To the east, the stars still contrasted spectacularly
against the dark universe.
The boy, his Brother, and his Father would go for hikes
through the hills and canyons surrounding their house most nights. Sometimes
the rest of the family would join.
One night the boy wished to go for a hike. He finished his
supper, cleared his plate, and requested that his Father and Brother join him.
His Father declined, “Another night. There’s a storm coming our way that I
would not like to get caught in.”
The next night, the storm was still going. The river was
rising. This was not a time of drought.
The water rushed and rushed and rushed. The family stayed
indoors and went about their lives normally. They read, or worked on a puzzle,
or played a board game. Wind and rain swirled around the isolated house but the
family was protected inside.
The residents of the very large city attended to their
business as usual. The storm had not reached the city. To them, it was of no
concern.
As the wind and rain beat upon the many structures, some of
the structures failed. Trees split in two. Fences toppled over. But the house,
stronger than these, stood still.
Near the house a wood post fell. The difference between the
tree and the post (and this proved to be catastrophic) was that the post held
electric lines that ran to the house. The electricity in the house went out and
the house went dark and cold. The family did not worry.
When the post fell, the transformer at the top burst as it
hit the ground. It blew sparks and tiny explosions all around. The sparks
sparked a grass fire that grew to a brush fire that grew to a tree fire that
grew to a forest fire. Pretty soon inside the house was lit up again from the
glow of the growing fire. The Father and the Mother looked out the window at
the approaching flames and began to worry. They looked at each other and
whispered short sentences to each other. They said things like, “That is
awfully close.” “I don’t think it will reach us.” “The rain should put out the
flames.” “This will be a mess come morning.”
The fire moved at a safe distance from the house. It moved
around and around as flames usually move. It consumed oxygen to the left and
the right, but not toward the house. Pretty quickly, a circle of fire
surrounded the house and trapped it against the river. The flames stayed at a
safe distance away from the house. By now the whole family had gathered at
different windows, watching the spectacle with eyes wide open.
The water in the
river rose.
The winds changed and the fire spread toward the house. The
radius of flame encircling the house shrunk until complete terror set in. The Mother
and the Father realized that night their
house would be ablaze.
“Quick, out the door!” Shouted the Father.
“Hurry! Hurry! Don’t worry about anything!” Implored the
Mother.
The family rushed out the front door and the heat from the
fire warmed their faces. The rain dampened their hair. Everyone was frantic.
All eyes shot around looking for a hole in the fire. None
appeared as the fire approached. The only exit appeared to be the raging river.
The Father commanded everyone to return to the house to grab
a piece of furniture to float on. He turned over the kitchen table and kicked
off its legs. He rushed out the back door towards the water. The boy grabbed a
wooden chair, and his siblings followed suit.
The family reached the banks of the now vast river. They held
their pieces of furniture tight in their hands. Some kept them over their heads,
some at their side, the table where they had eaten their supper that evening
lay on the soaked soil. In panic they searched for a point to enter the water
as the fire caught the front of the house. It devoured the many fine things
inside. Blankets and rugs became fuel, the roast pig in the fire’s feast.
At that same time, a council in the large city voted in
favor of the dam project. They were unaware of the plight of the family.
With their house ablaze the family entered the waters, all
clinging to handcrafted furniture. The boy’s oldest Sisters tightly clutched
the chairs they had brought. The Mother, the boy’s youngest Brother, and the
Father grabbed the door. The Father instructed, “Get to the other shore as soon
as you can. Use your legs to move and keep your head above water.”
The boy hesitated. He turned to look at the only home he had
known swallowed in flames. The fire moved devilishly towards the boy.
He turned to see his family struggling to keep from drowning
as the rapids washed around and over them.
He felt the temperature rise as the heat thing got close.
He gripped tighter around the seat of the chair and jumped
in the vast river.
The boy wrestled his chair for supremacy. It took him down under the water and he fought back to get on top. They tussled back and forth and back and forth until they crashed into a boulder. Most of the force of the blow was given to the chair. The boy caught a good hit on his left leg, getting smashed between the current and the piece of granite.
The boy let go of the collapsed chair. Now was the time to float alone and hope for the best. He stuck his legs out straight to the important parts of his body from hitting boulders. He laid out on his back and let the current pull him downstream. His leg throbbed in pain.
After floating for around 30 seconds, the boy knew he needed to get to a safe place. He flipped his legs under his torso so he could get a good look around. He kicked his legs and thrust his arms about trying to get his momentum slowed down. He saw a shoreline he could get to if he swam.
He turned in the direction of the shoreline. The current pushed downstream as he pushed sideways. He kicked mostly with his right leg. He kicked hard and pushed fiercely. His head sank deeper and deeper into the water. His mouth filled with water, his eyes they shook, he lunged for the bank.
A hand caught his. He looked up to see his Father. He pulled the boy up onto a patch of gravel with the rest of his family.
They looked across the river and upstream to the glow from the fire that consumed their home. They sat and watched and didn't say a word. The boy looked up at the stars looking for some kind of divine help. He sat there looking up for a very long time.
In high school, I had it easy. My senior year my hardest
class was definitely Zoology which I enjoyed ditching to watch both Ace
Venturas with my friend Austin while we chowed down on a bucket of K’n’F’n’C.
After every exhausting school day, I would come home to
watch Good Eats and Sportscenter. I learned a lot from Alton Brown, but never
really applied it. When I graduated, my culinary specialty was still only mac
and cheese. From the blue box.
Lately I have been watching a lot of Iron Chef. America,
that is. I got into the Next Iron Chef season 4, so when season 5 started up – “Redemption”
– I was there every Sunday night. In season 4, I was disappointed when Chef
Alexandra Guarnaschelli and Chef Michael Chiarello were eliminated in the
penultimate challenge. They were my favorites to watch. I was so stoked that
Chef Guarnaschelli was offered “Redemption” and I root, root, rooted for her. I
recorded the final 2 episodes on my DVR because I had to head home to Colorado
for the holidays, but while I was watching late night TV, they had a commercial
for the first competition of the winner of this season’s Iron Chef: Chef
Guarnaschelli. Great. All of that suspense went straight out the window.
Regardless I had to watch it and was amazed at how at the same point that she
was eliminated in the season before, she went into this sort of “robot mode,”
where everything she did was insanely precise and quite intimidating.
When I saw the holiday special of The Best Thing I Ever Ate
with Chef Guarnaschelli making her prime rib, I wanted to try to make it. It didn’t
look too difficult to accomplish. So with my mom’s credit card, try I did.
This is the rib roast that I purchased. It had that thick layer
of fat on top with some decent marbling throughout.
I seared the roast on this. That hole on the bottom was no bueno. The grease dripped down onto the burner and smoked out my house.
I made the peppercorn/honey mustard paste and spread it on top. I kind of got messy with it and it went all over the kitchen.
This is the Yorkshire pudding I whipped up after I threw the roast in the oven.
After 10 minutes.
Near the end.
When we pulled it out.
The Yorkshire in the oven. I forgot about it, so that didn’t turn out at all.
The hardest part was definitely cutting it. I didn’t know what to do, so mom jumped in.
It was pretty rare, but really juicy and tasty.
Needless to say, I am
no Iron Chef. But I’m willing to learn. And if I ever go to NYC, I’m going to
Chef Guarnaschelli’s restaurant, Butter, and I am praying this is on the menu,
so I can taste what it is really supposed to be like.
Appendix: also, when I was out getting some meat, I bought
some jeans at Hollister, because there isn’t a Hollister store in Reno. I don’t
know if it is funny to the workers there or what, but this is the bag I got.
Thanks Hollister, I do enjoy walking around with a bag of a man who is taking his pants off provocatively. I need to 1) buy jeans at a different store or 2) shop online.