Saturday, November 12, 2005

The chili have no extreme limit

Hello all. Thank you for your all of your comments. Quick update on the umbrella situation. Jordan was absolutely right; I would feel too guilty taking someone else’s umbrella. I am, after all, a holy Regent student. On Thursday, I had to walk to the bus stop in the pouring rain, with nothing but my raincoat, which is pitch yellow. (I know pitch is black, but it’s so much fun to misuse. I’m with Sherri all the way!) I tried to make the rain more bearable by imagining it as God’s love pouring down on me. This metaphor didn’t work well, since I hate being wet, but I love being loved by God. Needless to say, I was looking forward to buying a new umbrella. Providentially, when I arrived at school, my umbrella was there! Someone must have brought it back! Dilemma solved. However, the bunnyhug dilemma is still in dilemma-land, so feel free to add your two cents.

Yesterday, my Regent friends, Tora and Julia, hosted a chili and beer night in their basement suite. Actually, it was a cook-off. The only chili recipe I have is Aunt Carol’s recipe, which includes a can of coke. I think it’s great. Danice thought we should substitute it with a can of beer. We had our worst fight ever. Due to my sheer argumentative superiority, she gave in and let me use the coke, so long as she could bring the beer to drink. I purchased most of the ingredients, and started combining them. I realized I didn’t have chili powder, and I was going to do without, until my other roommate, Bryanna (who happens to be the best chef in the whole basement), informed me that you couldn’t make chili without including any chili flavoring. I conceded, and ran out to buy all missing ingredients.

Once I was done, Danice and I left our house with a big, smoking pot of chili. Realizing we were going to miss the bus, we starting running down the street with a big, smoking pot of chili. Can you picture it? Anyway, we made our bus, and soon we arrived at the cook-off, adding our chili to the 8 other entries. I tried most of them. There was chili with tuna in it, chili with chick peas, chili with pineapple… next to all of these, mine was starting to look very plain, coke or no coke.

I awaited the vote results with fear and trembling. The results: our chili tied for fourth place. However, I believe there was a voting scandal of the largest proportions. Dave’s chili came in first. Dave had, unfortunately, misunderstood the nature of the chili and beer event, and, instead of bringing a large pot of chili for all to sample, he had brought a small bowl for his own enjoyment. Nevertheless, he won the competition, I believe, due to pity votes. I believe this merits disqualification, bringing me up to third place. Furthermore, the original second and third place winners were none other than Tora and Julia, the hostesses. Coincidence? I think not. More like conflict of interest. Disqualified. Therefore, our chili clearly came in first. Isn’t it great? I attribute our success to the ambiguity of the word “coke”, which I used in my frequent descriptions of the chili.

The really important part of this story is that I got to choose a prize! I chose the mini-frisbee shooter, mostly because I was so taken by the eloquence of the slogan on the package, which I have represented here in this photo. No extreme limit indeed. Whoever wrote that was surely the Shakespeare of Japan. What caused even greater consternation was the fine print on the sticker on the shooter. I will write it out here for you. All typos are those of Japan’s Shakespeare: “Devil Children Devilisershooter. You two have become devil children who detemine the fate of the world. An omergency occurred just as a spell to summon devils was chanted.”

So, dilemma #3: will I become possessed if I keep this toy? Should I burn it?

Thank you, Tora and Julia, for a great, though possibly soul-endangering party.

P.S. Two of my favorite people in the world have recently written posts about me. Because I want to give them the exposure they are due (and because I am narcissistic), I highly recommend to you and


Anonymous said...

Beth - I love your story. I think it captured the non-existent happiness extreme limit of our chili and beer event. I quite literally laughed out loud reading it. I can't believe I lived without your blog before.

I think I'm developing a hernea. It's either stress or pushing the extreme limit of chili.

Lydia said...

Hahaha Beth. Reading your blog in school is so dangerous. That was truly funny and I wish I could have laughed like I wanted too.