PREP... The Scone Adventure

Hey everybody!

Back again for another short blog. I thought I'd update y'all about the scones. (Before I go on, I'm not sure how cool everyone is with me using their real name, so I used the interns' soundoff numbers and the PREP nicknames. For those of you in ICC, see if you can figure out who these people are. I might tell you who they are... if you give me chocolate)

I mentioned in my last post that we can only bake from 8 pm to 8 am. Last night, that got hairy. We baked potatoes for lunch this afternoon, and I also planned on baking about 40 scones. No sweat, right?

Wrong.

So, I knew that the Moon's oven has some spunk, but yesterday, it decided it didn't like me and suffice it to say that it didn't bake those potatoes till it was good and ready (which was, literally, three hours after we were hoping it would be good and ready) It was all good though, because we got a curfew extension to finish baking.

I made the scones while the oven was having its temper tantrum, three batches of one dozen to 16 each. Here begins adventure #2 of The Scone Adventure.

I found the food processor without a problem. It's this really cute little round thing with a lid and a little button you push to make it go... and that was about all I could find out. I tried four or five different methods to get it to turn on... but I have no common sense so that didn't work. I asked another PREP girl... didn't work. I asked an ex-PREP guy who is now an intern (this would be #6, the one who sprayed me with the faucet... so you know how much courage that took) but that didn't work. It took me like forty five minutes just to figure out how to get the lid on the processor, and about four peoples' help! Come on, Catey! Finally, I ground up the oats and got started on the scones.

Here begins adventure #3 of The Scone Adventure. I decided to make some dairy free scones and just experiment around with them and hope they turned out (sorry, #8 and #10 for my cooking style! So far, the only thing that hasn't come out is the dairy-free pudding....) So, despite my MULTIPLE google fails (the girls are allergic to milk AND soy... so nothing really worked) I was able to find a butter substitute (coconut oil works - compensate with a little flour for the softness) and then set about making non-dairy buttermilk. Yah. Non-dairy buttermilk. I ended up using a mixture of water, honey, vinegar and vegetable oil. It worked though.

Here begins adventure #4 of The Scone Adventure. There were a ton of people randomly bumming around the kitchen, guys and girls, but after curfew, everyone went to bed. I went and washed my hair while my scones were baking, then came out in my pajamas. Mind you, everyone was supposed to be asleep. And that there is a very, very strict NO PAJAMAS rule in this house. I came out, and it was just one of the PREP girls and I icing my scones and then blam! The son of the organization's president (his mom is the one who initiating the NO PAJAMAS rule) shows up and starts randomly talking to us. No point. No purpose. Just talking to us. Despite the fact that it's the middle of the night and we're all in our pajamas. What do you do in that circumstance??? Weirdness.

A few more assorted adventures:

#3: How dare you even think of that??? Here in the Moons' house and everything!

Catey: I didn't think of that. You were -

#3: You perverted person!

#6: What was Catey doing?

#3: Thinking of boys wearing short shorts!

Catey: No I wasn't!

#6: Catey, how could you?

Catey: I wasn't. #3's making this up -

#6: Catey, we're going to have to lock you in the closet for this. You've crossed a line.

Catey: #3 was talking about it. I didn't do anything. He's making this up. Why don't we lock him up?

#3: Because you're a girl. You need to obey us, for you are a PREP girl slave. #6, tie her up.

Catey: What??

#6: Yes, that's right. #3, it's your job to remember to let her out to cook us our food.

Catey:...?...!...?

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At Sam's Club, with The Slacker and The Onion Mincer...

Random checkout lady (you know it's coming - another one of those creeper stories...): So... why all the food?

The Onion Mincer: It's for our growing family. (looks at Catey, for approval or punishment)

Random checkout lady: ...?...!...?

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Catey: Please let me out of the closet....

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Catey: Please?

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Catey: Seriously! #3 and #6, this isn't funny any more!

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Catey: (cries quietly)

#3: Woman! Get in the kitchen where you belong!

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Well, that was nice. That was cool. That was fun. That was nice.

It's been one big adventure, and it's been, all of it, totally awesome. I love PREP!

I'll be back with more totally random stories tomorrow.

Love from Murfreesboro!

Catey (The Asian)

The Craziest Thing I've Done With My Mom in a While...

Once upon a time, I woke up to the sound of my mom yelling down the heater vent (an approved venue of communication in my house) something to the effect of, "CATEY! GET UP!"

I turned over and tried to fall back asleep - it wasn't that I was trying to ignore her, I just dream things like that all the time.

And then the screaming started again. "Catey! Get up! Dr. Messingham wants to get your bands off today!"

My first thought: Who is Dr. Messingham?

My second thought: Bands + off = good news.

Dr. Messingham!!! Oh! Dr. Devinindisguise!!!! That meant I was getting my braces off today!

I was dressed and ready in record time (something ridiculously short for a teenage girl, that is) We zipped down into the Springs just in time to get to my ever-so-beloved orthodontist, who said that he could tell I wear my rubber bands (duh) and that my teeth looked great.

Then came the last episode of devilish torture that I shall hopefully ever have to endure. If you've ever had braces, you'll know that it doesn't hurt to get them on. It does hurt to get them off. Dr. Devilindisguise took his pointy red tail and sawed the brackets off one at a time and then shaved off the glue using the same caudal device. Ouch.

Then the dental hygienist woman shoved pond slime down my throat in order to make impressions of my teeth. (Note: It's not usually a good thing when the lady says, "Um... have you ever had impressions done? No? It's going to feel like it's going down your throat, but it's too thick to do that." So the only thing stopping me from certain death is the fact that the goop is so thick?? That's a really comforting thought.)

When I came back two hours later, they had made me two clear plastic trays that fit the shape of my teeth. I was given a five-page list of retainer care (no taboo foods!) and then sent on my way.

It was the same day as Chapter Meeting for CFC (Communicators for Christ). Since I was a student leader now (!) I had to come "professionally attired" (insert Catey gulping). I'm one of those people who ALWAYS dresses really nicely, but I have no professional clothing. I mean, I'm a writer for gracious sake. I do not need a suit. I'm not a debater, nor am I a competitor. I'd gone to the CFC conference with just my regular nice clothes.

But then it hit me. I may not be competing speech, but if I was to continue student leadering, I would need some business clothes for various platforms, depending on where I was going and what I was doing. So, my crazy wonderful mother and I decided to go shopping. It was sometime around noon, and we had just over an hour to get back home in time to pick up younger sister Carli and get to Chapter. So, after dashing all over Marshalls (which, in case you were thinking about trying to find clothes there, doesn't have any professional-looking skirts, slacks or blouses for under forty dollars for a size smaller than a fourteen...) So, my mother and I resigned to go look at the Dress Barn.

Yes, you read that right. The Dress Barn. Whoever thought up that name should be given major points for creativity but some serious downgrading for that particular selection. I felt like I should be buying cowboy boots or bandanas going into a store like that!

But there isn't anything of that kind in there. Actually, the clothes are a lot nicer than I'm accustomed to looking for (which is kind of a change, since I ALWAYS dress nicely) To cut a very long story short, we ended up not being able to find very much under a size 8 there either (grr). When we did end up finding something, it was this amazing grey suit that I liked very much. Again, smallest size was a size six. Unfortunately, I can't wear a size six. Then my mother had a brilliant idea. The mannequin! Surely that was a small size...

You guessed it. We made the poor store clerk (just another one of my random store clerk experiences) undress the mannequin so I could try on the suit. And, miracle of miracles, it actually fit! But we were so short on time by now that we actually had to ask the very nice store clerk lady if I could wear the suit out of the store!! I am firmly convinced that, separately, my mother and I are unusual, but together, we are entirely insane! I walked out of the barn with tennis shoes and no nylons, but I had my suit!

Hopefully that is the last entirely random and crazy thing my mother and I will do for a while. Hopefully...

Just Another Chapter of My Eccentric Life

Happy Thanksgiving!

I hope yours was great. Mine was. We had the entire world over to our house today. Food was everywhere! On the counters, the cabinets, all in my brother's hair...

Anyway, this isn't a typical Thanksgiving blog post. I wanted to first recommend that you read Patrick Dunn's thoughts on Thanksgiving (he's amazing and hysterically funny - check it out here) and then that you read another chapter in the continuing drama of Catey and the random store clerks. I promise - there will be a Thanksgiving-related point somewhere in here (if I can find one... no, really! There will be a point!)

This blog continues the drama of the store clerks where the posts titled "But I Don't WANT a King Soopers Card!!!" and "Why Can't I Just Have A Normal Life???" left off.

Yesterday, when I was dropping off my contest submission (yeah, the one that is exactly 1,499 words long) at PakMail, I was there with my dad. I come in and the guy behind the counter looks at me and says, "Hey! Haven't you been in here recently?"

Yeah, he was talking to me. I said that I had been. He took my envelope and said, "Is this another writing contest?"

How did this guy REMEMBER that stuff???

That's what my dad said (but without several of those question marks after it so that it sounded more civil). The guy behind the counter (who, by the way, did not have weird long hair) shrugged and said, "I don't know. I have a memory for useless stuff."

He ended up remembering a lot of other crazy stuff - for instance, that I had come with my mom the time before, that I'd stood at the other counter, that one of my other contest entries had also been going to Purcellville... It was totally weird.

What is it with me and random store clerks???

Oh yeah! The point!

When I was sitting at the table with my sister and brother with the rest of my family close by and surrounded by most of my friends in this state (and thinking of and praying for the ones who weren't with me visiting or living other places) I found myself thinking about the little experiences that make life special. Topping the list I made of things I'm thankful for was the fact that God gives me a heart for writing and that he gives me stuff to write about! Some of that is big, like my novel where the whole story idea came formed pretty much in one shot and I just had to develop and expand. Some of it is just the little things that make life unique and worth it. If I didn't have grocery store clerks going a little overboard on their job and Pak-Mail clerks stalking me, then I probably would have lost my zing for life a long time ago (and you probably all know just how zingy I am about life - some people might call it hyperactivity, but they simply don't understand that to keep up with the speed my brain's going, my body and mouth go a little fast too : ) ) In that case, my writing would dry up, my enthusiasm and fire for God would be gone. How depressing would that be? Instead, I thank God that He gives me those little things (as Patrick Dunn writes, things like raisins and puffy sea creatures - those things taht no one thinks about and therefore doesn't appreciate).

Stay tuned for more adventures of Catey and random store clerks... with my luck, there are sure to be more... many, many more...

Why Can't I Just Have A Normal Life???

You know what that means. It's time for another sort-of-true story about life (but this one happens to be totally true without any embellishment)

So, you guys are probably aware of my contest and publication craze that I did last month (you can read a little bit of my opinions on it here.) This month I thought I had it easy. One CWG assignment, an easy RTF assignment, some fun KOF assignments and one contest. Well, that contest was just about the death of me.

I submitted it today. Yesterday, I was finishing up my denouement (closing) scene. Now, my denouement is usually highly significant, highly emotion-packed and my favorite one to write. So I check my word count to see how long I could make it.

The short story was supposed to be 1200 words (insert one of Catey's loudest high-pitched screams). I had used up 1147 of them. Yikes. That's a really bad situation.

About three seconds away from a heart attack, I checked the website to make sure it was 1200 words. I was quite relieved to find that it was actually 1500 words, buying me an extra 300.

Still, 300 words???? What kind of short story is this???

So, after using all but twenty of my 300 words to tie up my story (which I was NOT enjoying and didn't even sound good to me) I started to read over for spelling/punctuation errors.

And that's when I realized it. Why was this section here? I had moved that scene to be the second scene, instead of the opening. What was going on? I read down the document - realized I had forgotten to delete the scene once I moved it.

I now had 415 extra words.

And I wasn't about to let them go to waste!!! I promptly went back into my document and inserted my 415 extra words, reread and...

Realized that I was now 60 words over count. How do I ALWAYS manage to do that??

Want to know my final word count? 1499 words.

"But I Don't WANT a King Soopers Card!!!"

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Catey. One day, Catey and her family were preparing to go to Co-op for the second day in a row. Catey was excited, but very tired from the Co-op the day before. That morning, Catey's mom had to put gas in the car, so she recruited Catey and her sister Jocelyn to go into King Soopers and buy shredded bagged lettuce and sour cream.

They had only one problem: They only had ten dollars and eighty cents between the three of them.

So Catey and Jocelyn walked into King Soopers, determined to buy as much sour cream and shredded bagged lettuce as their ten dollars and eighty cents would allow.

Catey is half Chinese. She inheried her incredibly frugal side from her father, who is even more frugal than she is (hard to believe, but true). So, five minutes later, Catey had found the cheapest, on-sale lettuce and a large carton of on-sale sour cream, all of which should cost her under ten dollars and eighty cents.

The man who checked her out at the checkout line is rather odd-looking. She didn't read his name, but he had long hair that is jet-black and nasty looking. He asked her, "Do you have any coupons?"

She said, "No."

He asked her, "Do you have a King Soopers card?"

She said, "No."

He said, "What? No King Soopers card? That's like the most important card ever! You need a King Soopers card." He began to fish around in the checkout stand for a new King Soopers card.

She started to not feel so happy. "No, you don't understand. My family has a King Soopers card already-"

"You should have one for yourself then." He threw a King Soopers card in front of her.

Catey was apalled. "But, I don't want a-"

He gritted his teeth. "Yes, you do. It's not a checking card and this way you get the sale prices. It's like a coupon, but it works all the time."

"But I'm a minor!"

He looked at her quizzically. "Well, that's fine. Eight-year-olds can use this card."

About now, Catey realized she was arguing with a grocery store clerk and that conflict completely terrified her, due to her very nature. "But I don't WANT a King Soopers card!"

By now, the clerk has realized that Catey is not an easy nut to crack. "Too bad." He scanned the card and slid it back to her. "Six fifty."

Dumbfounded, Catey counted out six dollars and fifty cents. "Thank you."

The End.