Talk the Talk

I've really got to get back into the habit of regular posting. Half the reason I've been slacking is because I wanted to keep my post about voting for me for the weblog awards near the top. Not that I don't want you to vote for me anymore, believe me, I do, but it's time to move on. The other reason is because I must contend with track meets and practices, homework, and oncoming midterms. Perhaps not so ironically, the closer midterms get, the less I am thinking about school and the more I'm thinking about food. Just today in Spanish I came up with this incredible idea (at least I think so) for barbecue peanut butter. I plan to roast peanuts with cumin, paprika, chili powder and the like, then grind them in the food processor with brown sugar. That idea still needs refinement though, "no es finishedo" as I would say in Spanish.

Anyways, it seems that I've picked up a bunch of new readers from the weblog awards, and now I must attempt to keep them intrigued. I'm really not sure how I'm going to go about doing that. I almost feel like the geeky guy in school with no money, no cars, and no looks, who's trying to get the prettiest girl in school. The geek does have personality though. Which reminds me......

What motivated me to take my cooking to the next level.

It was the beginning of the year in 7th grade, you know, when you play all those stupid ice-breaker games. Can't stand those. 2 truths and 1 lie? Come on, I've used the same ones 30 times.

Anyway, for one class we had to talk about ourselves a little bit. Is that not the most awkward game ever? You don't know if you should be drab and tell your birthday and your zodiac sign, or if you should tell about the one time you were mauled my a jaguar in Zimbabwe, and risk being looked at as the weirdo.

Lucky for me, there was a very pretty girl in my class, that for lack of a better name, we will call Bula Nightingale. Now at this point in my life, I wasn't known for cooking. Sure I did a few things here and there, but I was nowhere near as passionate as I am now. At that point I saw the perks of cooking as A) eating your creations, and B) impressing girls.

So I waited patiently as Sally Shoelace and Billy Gumdrop told about their summer vacations in the Andes, and Mexico, and as cynical Sam talked about his dislike for school. Finally it was my turn. I stood up, full of charisma, and professed my love of cooking, stretching the details to extreme proportion. The farther the details stretched, the farther my nose stretched, but Bula Nightingale didn't seem to notice. I looked over and she was listening intently.

I sat down, then realized I had told almost an absolute lie. I had to live up to my talk. The rest is history. Ongoing history, that is.

Note: The story is real but the people and places have been altered, lest they ever read this.