Getting on my soapbox. . .

I'll be honest: I generally try to stay away from politics on the internet, and here's why.
1) Things get easily misconstrued.
2) The internet is great for many things, but a political debate - where body language, tone, and physical gestures are very important - is not one of those things.
3) People don't forget, but even if they do, your name is there along with your thoughts forever. Facebook comments are never really deleted.
That being said, I'm going to stand up on my little soapbox and put my name next to my thoughts and opinions.
Okay, now that being said, I am not here to make anyone mad.
I am not here to make enemies.
I am not here to step on anyone's digital digits.
I am here to try to persuade you to come around to my way of thinking, which - to be fair - is what every one does.
That's how people respectfully agree to disagree.
Now.
I am going to give my opinion of what's going on in the government of the United States right now, which you and I have every right to do: we're paying for it.
To do this, I will be heavily referencing the Phantom of the Opera, so buckle up and grab your capes -- we're going for a ride.
This may read a bit like a literary interpretation essay, but I promise you it's not.
I'd never get a grade on this.

Now, let's start at the very beginning.

For those who may not be Phans, I shall give you the bare, bare bones of what's actually a somewhat convoluted plot.
The Phantom has long since seduced Christine Daae into thinking that he is heaven-sent. She performs for him, she adores him, and she'd do anything for him. The pinnacle of their success is when she's at the top of her game. He takes her to his home (not for the first time, curse you Webber -- mea culpa, but your score was fantastic, every pun intended) and she begins to see what he truly is: not the angel he claimed he was, for starters.
Her childhood love, Raoul, shows up as a foil (contrast) to the Phantom. He truly loves Christine, and is more than a little worried about her obsession with some 'angel', even though she swears he's really what he says he is.
The Phantom does not get his casting choices approved for the next opera. He decides to show his acute displeasure by dropping the giant, 7-ton chandelier on the audience, killing some random woman. A freak accident.
Christine begins to really see who he is, though part of her still loves him. Raoul takes steps against him, and plans a way to show everyone what he really is. Long story short, it works. He's exposed, and slinks away, and the opera house is freed of his terror.
There are stories he fled to New York, but that's another subject entirely.

Where am I going with this?
Here.
I'm gonna name names, so if this offends you, I'm sorry, but this is my honest, thought-through opinion.

Obama has ideologically seduced mainstream media to follow him blindly, just as the Phantom seduced Christine. The mainstream media - like Madame Giry - sheilds him, makes excuses for him, and gives out his instructions. The first chandelier crash? I'd say that was Benghazi, the first 'mistake' with consequences of lives lost. That's when people kinda started to wake up, but it wasn't enough. I think this whole healthcare thing is hitting close enough to home that people are beginning to really figure out what is really going on.
The make believe is at an end.

The real question is, though, what's next?

Youtube Crushes

Okay, these are not legitimate crushes, but oh lawd they is funny.

Ever heard of DJ Flula?

Well, you should watch some of his stuff, because it's hilarious.

He's this German DJ who - when he comes into contact with weird English idioms that he doesn't understand - he gives it his best shot. 

For instance, there's the Rock, Paper, Scissors.

Happy as a Clam.

Skeletons in the Closet.

Proof is in the Pudding.

Trick or Treat, Smell my Feet.

And my personal favorite: the Party Pooper.

(A friend made me watch that in the middle of the university library -- my other friend working at the checkout desk thought I was having a stroke. It's really hard not to laugh, y'all.)

His broken English is adorable and hysterical, and the 'outside opinion' is priceless.

And Olan Rogers.

If you have not heard of him, I pity you.

A friend of mine posts a picture of him every Monday, and when you watch this, you'll see why.

His facial expressions and snarkiness are to die for.

He also talks about the time he took his lady out -- that's pretty awesome, too.

But yeah.

Those are my Youtube crushes.

{at} and {dot}

This is a rant.

I'm sorry.

This is not meant to pick on anyone who does this, either; I promise.

Ever see those people who put their addresses like this?

dorkyaddressimadewheniwas9 {at} whatevsmail {dot} com

Um . . . 

It's 2013 . . . I think people know what an email address is formatted like. . .

It's kinda like the messages people put on their answering machines. 

Not the cute and funny ones like "Have a blessed day" or "I'm likely babysitting", but the actual instructions. 

We know to leave a message and not a cake recipe, thank you. . .

I dunno. . .

Sometimes stuff like this just makes me laugh.

And sometimes it peeves me. 

I mean, if you want someone to email you, make a form or link it. 

Don't write it in hieroglyphics.

Because hieroglyphs are hard.

My (Mis)Adventure in the Realm of Cuisine - Part II

So. 

Y'all thought I would only have one (Mis)Adventure?

Nope.

Ha.

NOPE.

And here's the whammy - this one's a twofer.

So, me and my mom tried to make Peasant Bread.

It's supposed to rise, be punched down and separated, then rise again.

Well, the second time, it didn't rise. Like, at all.

We were stumped. 

It tasted perfectly fine, but it looked funny.

Remember that - it's important later.

So, the day after that, we tried making Amish Country Bread.

Pretty similar, all things considered.

So I was measuring and combining things when I realized we didn't have enough salt in one container. I asked my mom to get another one down since my hands were full. She asked how much I needed, and I said three tablespoons. She kinda made a face and was like "That's a lot" and she looked at the recipe.

Well.

All the measurements but one had a "t" or a "T" with them, so I thought they were all tablespoons. 

I learned to cook thinking "T" was tablespoon, and "tsp" was teaspoon.

My mom started laughing.

"Sissy," quoth she, "you know, you're a smart cookie . . . But sometimes you're really clueless."

(And she's right.)

Apparently, "T" can stand for tablespoon, and "t" can stand for teaspoon.

I assumed it was poor internet grammar.

And the thing is, I was measuring them all out with a tablespoon and since I needed three teaspoons of it, that would've been one tablespoon.

Well, we remembered that right after we poured it back.

Yep.

And while we were measuring, we decided to make sure one packet of yeast was two tablespoons, as we assumed it had been the day before.

Alas, it was not.

Therefore, the bread the day before had not risen a second time because there was only enough oomf for once. 

Yes.

This is me in the kitchen.

But everything still tastes good, so really.

(I FINALLY FOUND A USE FOR THIS!!!!!)

Not Getting Off on the Right Foot, Are We?

So, I downloaded the Consumer's Preview of Microsoft Office 2013.
Yes, I am a PC.
Born and bred.
I know Microsoft has more than its fair share of bugs, but I still like it.
Kinda like how the Carolina Gamecocks have a not-so-awesome record, but us fans still like them.
Anyways, I tried to open Microsoft Word 2013, and here's what I got:

Cue the reaction GIFs:

Grammar Rant

Okay, I know I have peeves.
I'm sorry.
Eh . . .
Nope. No, no I'm not.
As an English major, I suppose I'm entitled to be snobby about this, but I really, honestly try very hard not to be a grammar snob.
And most times, I'm not.
I'm a grammar nazi.
It's horrible, I know, as even I use deplorable grammar at times.
I'm actually really picky about exactly what gets me peeved.
For instance, if I'm texting or IMimg, I couldn't care less if you didn't capitalize, use correct grammar or what have you.
But in an email . . . you had better use it all correctly.
In spoken conversations, I don't care.
But Facebook . . .
Oh gosh, don't get me started . . .
Okay, so "your" and "you're" ARE different!! I promise! They are!
"Too", "to", and "two" are different. Really.
And when you're talking about more than one of something . . . there's no apostrophe.
Like, if you're talking about . . . say . . . Scottish Folds . . . It's "Scottish Folds" - not "Scottish Fold's".
*sigh*
Orrrrrrrrrrrrrr . . .
Or, I could just leave Facebook as its own thing and not worry about it.
Nope.
Too easy . . .

My evil final writing project . . .

So, for my Development of the English Language class, we got to pick our final writing project from three different options.
I picked something along the lines of "pick a small group that uses non-standard English and write about the differences".
'Kay.
Being the dork/geek/nerd that I am, I picked n00bs. N00bs that speak 1337. 
I asked my professor if that was okay.
He said sure . . . and proceeded to inquire what a n00b and 1337 was.
This paper is going to be so fun . . .

For the record . . .

Just FYI, I've gotten a Tumblr account . . . So, unless I figure out a way to automatically send those posts here, you might as well just follow that.
:)

Bring the 90's back!

The other day I was poking around on the internet.
No big deal.
I stumbled across one interesting thing, and that led to another interesting one, until I found this:

Read the whole story here:  http://www.buzzfeed.com/daves4/how-much-does-a-piece-of-the-aggro-crag-from-guts.

SOME KID IS SELLING HIS PIECE OF THE AGGRO CRAG!!!!!


THAT IS A BIG DEAL!!!


If I were that kid, I'd hang on to that thing forever!
I used to watch that show all the time, and I had always wanted to climb the Aggro Crag!
Every red-blooded kid in the WORLD did!
And that got me thinking: there were a lot of stinkin' awesome shows in the 90's, especially on Nick GAS.
Obviously, GUTS and Global GUTS.
And Figure It Out!.
And Scaredy Camp.
And last and definitely not least, Legends of the Hidden Temple.
On a whim, I searched for it on Youtube.
IT.
WAS.
THERE!
I was so excited!
I watched an entire episode, reliving the glory days.
And, naturally, those temple guards made me jump every time.
I felt like I was 9 again.
. . .
And then I remembered my college homework, and suddenly, I was 19 again.

BRING THE NINETIES BACK!!!