What I've Been Up To

Last night, I got an exceedingly angry-looking iPod message from the one and only Little Sister.

Little Sister: POST ON UR BLOG

Little Sister: DAGNABBIT

I assure you that I have every intention of posting on my blog. Currently, I'm working on a post about the Sunday I spent in New York City.

BUT. Practically every second of my life is scheduled every day, and it's been exceedingly hard to write.

Like on Tuesday. First I worked. Then I came home and briefly exercised before practicing for a luau that we are putting on in front of a significant portion of Hometown.

Yes, a luau. My mother's family, who is about 75% British and 25% Danish, is made up of professionally trained hula dancers. I am also a trained hula dancer, although far from professional. We have all danced many times together in various locations around Utah, we haoles.

Anyways, my mother and her brother take these luaus very seriously, while the rest of us take them not-so-seriously. (I suggested to Little Sister that, given the circumstances, we could call them Jew-aus. She was not terribly amused, but her reaction was nowhere as horrified my mother's would have been had she heard me.) The point is--we rehearse for these things. I don't know if your family just gets together and rehearses stuff, but mine does.

After rehearsal, I made dinner. It was chicken satay with a peanut sauce. It ended up well, except for the fact that the wooden skewers ended up being more decorations than anything. I was unsuccessful in affixing them in a way that would actually hold the meat's weight.

Also, the recipe called for fish sauce. The Internet warned me that fish sauce smelled bad, but I didn't believe the Internet until I smelled it. Forget bad. Fish sauce smells like pure evil.

Later, I was narrating my cooking skills out loud because it's a lifelong dream of mine to have my own cooking show. As I scraped half a cup of peanut butter into the pan, I said, "This is where things get weird!" Then I remembered that things had already gotten weird when I added the fish sauce and that I was essentially lying to my imaginary studio audience. This is why they'll never give me a cooking show.

By the time I'd quickly eaten dinner, I was late for institute. By the time institute was over, I was very late for my improv comedy workshop. By the time my workshop was over, it was time to go to bed and rest in preparation of doing pretty much the same thing the next day.

The point is, I haven't really had time to write a poorly written blog post, much less a good one. But I'll update again soon. I promise, Little Sister.