The Time That Ravioli Was My Excuse to Miss Class

The first time you meet me, you might have a few different impressions. Either I come across bitchy and cold, extremely talkative, or quiet and nice. You may think, hmm, Megan seems interesting, with lots of hobbies and passions. Maybe she likes being active, or exploring, or doing something entirely different?

In actuality, one of the major parts of my personality is that I have a terrible sense of balance. Just like all those other quirky girls you may have met…except I can’t. fucking. do. anything. without. spilling. shit.

It isn’t a quirk, but instead a stark and daunting reality that every day, I might royally fuck something up. I could probably bore you with all the times I’ve spilled mustard on a white shirt, or spilling coffee down my freshly laundered work pants. I could tell you the tale of tripping over absolutely nothing while walking across my college campus. But, those stories are fucking boring. I’ve found that if I don’t do one small clumsy thing a day, all the clumsiness will build and the universe will be out of balance and I will have to do one BIG, ENORMOUSLY clumsy thing. Here is just one (with many fucking more to follow or until I learn how to not fall):

The Rocketing Ravioli

ravioli

Have you ever had a day where everything goes fucking wrong? I’ve had too many to fucking count, but here’s the one I so desperately try to forget, but that friends will bring up time and time again if my ego becomes too inflated. This story usually brings me back to earth with a fucking thud.

Back in college, I usually tried to juggle too many things at once, as one is wont to do when they overload their schedule with 15 units of classes on only two days of the week while working a part-time job on all other days. I thought that, with two years of college experience under my belt, I knew it all. I was a fucking rock star. I could balance homework, papers, a balanced diet, AND a life worthy of social media all at the same time. I was at my fucking peak.

One day, I was intensely hungry, like always, and craved Chef Boyardee ravioli. I calculated I had about fifteen minutes to make it, cool it, eat it, and be ready to catch the shuttle to take me to class from our one bedroom apartment. I sighed in relief at the knowledge that I was growing up to be a successful adult, with a whole life of possibility ahead of me. So I made the damn ravioli.

I had placed all the shit I needed right next to the couch so I could easily grab it and go once I was done. I also had a pile of clothes I had been folding and piling the night before, and let’s face it, I probably wouldn’t move them until I actually needed to wear them. My pristine black and white couch with my comfy white pillow looked so inviting, and I couldn’t wait to enjoy my pre-class snack.

The microwave dinged – the bowl was hot as fuck. I grabbed a towel and cradled the bowl in my hands. The warmth of my meal radiated into my fingers, and I slowly walked across our beige carpeted floor to my already prepared seat on the couch.

Then, it happened – a moment that I could almost sense was about to happen, a premonition that turned into a sudden realization as my fingers lost their grip – and for a whole second the word “FUCK” seemed to flash on like a brilliant marquee in my mind – as the bowl slipped from the towel I was holding and tipped upside down, rocketing ravioli in all directions of my living room.

The noodly meat squares plopped onto the ground in a sad lump, while the damn sauce seemed to ricochet off of nearby objects and grow exponentially in distance and damage. The reddish brown liquid first hit the beige carpet and soaked into the dirty recesses below in a deep pool. Next, it hit the pile of clothes that sat beside the couch, including one of my favorite sweaters on the very top and my white work pants, now destroyed in the mayhem. It splattered onto the side of the couch like blood spurting from a crime show victim, and somehow a huge glob hit my beautiful, dainty white pillow like a fucking rocket, seeping into the fabric. How the fuck had specks of Boyardee managed to get on the wall, the lamp, the coffee table, AND the window? Steam from the radiated microwaved meal rose from every area it touched, like the remnants of a fire slowly burning out. Sauce splatter littered my pants and the reek of fucking processed beef and tomatoes filled my nostrils.

I stood among the wreckage of my now burnt orange apartment and sighed. I wasn’t going to make it to fucking class that day.

I’ve read 9 books so far in 2012…

           

        

The Books I Loved:

1. The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin                                                                                           

Genre: Science-Fiction

My rating: 4/5 stars

My short, no-spoilers review: The Stepford Wives is simply chilling. Just started and finished reading this today (note – this was written in February, 2012) – it’s not only a short read, but easy to follow and understand. While I’m not a huge fan of Levin’s writing style, which is more to-the-point, simple descriptions and choppy sentences, it still manages to flow from one plot twist to another.If you are a fan of thrillers, this book is purely that – even if you already know what is to come, this book will chill and thrill you to the very end. It is a classic yet frighteningly realistic story, and I completely recommend it. I’ve never seen the movie, but I’m interested in seeing it now that I’ve finished reading the book!

2. The Children of Men by P.D. James

Genre: Science Fiction (Dystopia/Post-Apocalyptic), Thriller

My rating: 3/5 stars

My short, no-spoilers review: An original story that is remarkably tragic at its core, The Children of Men is a piece of literature that all science-fiction/post-apocalyptic fans will enjoy. In the future, the human race must accept a terrible reality: every human is infertile. Subject to government testing, the old and young alike grapple with their fates; some engage in mass suicide, others adopt life-like baby dolls as their children. However, the government is corrupted, and in the face of this world-wide catastrophe, is there anyone willing to stand up to fight for the freedom of an already dying species?

I must admit I am a picky reader, and there were sections of description in the novel that I wished were truncated, but the plot is brilliant and memorable. It made me want to see how the filmmakers portrayed this classic – guess that will be the next movie on my Netflix queue!

3. Looking for Alaska by John Green

Genre: Young Adult Fiction, Romance, Contemporary

My rating: 4.5/5 stars

My short, no-spoilers review: Any book that successfully makes me think, laugh, and cry is what I call the perfect book – and this novel for young adults by John Green is just that. Spell-binding, youthful, tragically poignant, utterly beautiful in execution…the characters were lovable, relatable, and by the end of the novel, seemed like dear friends. I am now a huge fan of Green’s writing, which is a blend of witty dialogue, descriptive passages, and originally-spun phrases – I cannot wait to devour his other works.

4. The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

Genre: Young Adult Fiction, Contemporary

My rating: 5/5 stars

My short, no-spoilers review: I fell in love with this novel. Chbosky’s characters spoke to me in a way not many fictional characters have, and Charlie will stay in my heart for as long as I live. Through Charlie’s simplistic voice, we see the experience of high school through the eyes of a ‘wall-flower’. It is the story of a shy young boy who befriends an outspoken crowd of misfits; however, under the cloud of innocent frolicking of the youngsters lies tragedy, and the events that will unfold will move and transform you. What a beautiful novel, it is now one of my dear favorites.

5. The Road by Cormac McCarthy

Genre: Science Fiction (Post-apocalyptic), Horror, Contemporary

My rating: 4/5 stars

My short, no-spoilers review: You may not be able to tell, but honestly, I LOVE science fiction novels, especially stories that are post-apocalyptic, and McCarthy’s the Road is a classic of this genre. In this chilling story of a man and his young son left in a barren and ravaged world, survival means staying one step ahead of the bands of lawless survivors that lurk along the vast stretch of road. Starvation, fear, and painful memories plague the destitute pair as they face an uncertain, and seemingly hopeless, future. The novel is unusual in its format (no quotation marks for dialogue, etc), and may trip you up a few times, but by the end of the novel, McCarthy’s style seems natural to read and understand. I completely recommend this for fans of the genre!

6. The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff

Genre: Historical-Fiction, Mystery, Religion, Adult-Fiction, Contemporary

My rating: 4/5 stars

My short, no-spoilers review: In one hand a deep look into the mystery and the controversy surrounding the Mormon Church and its practices, and in the other a thrilling descent into the modern world of the “Firsts” and the effects of polygamy, the 19th Wife parallels a fictional memoir of Brigham Young’s ex-19th wife, Ann Eliza, with the modern day murder-mystery of a man supposedly killed by his own 19th wife. Intriguing and informative (albeit mostly fictional) account captured my attention and made me extremely interested in the plight of modern day polygamists and their families. Ebershoff takes what would be a taboo subject and presents it brilliantly and thoroughly – a great read.

7. Selected Poems by e.e. cummings

Genre: Poetry

My rating: 4/5 stars

My short, no-spoilers review: I re-read this a month or so ago, as cummings is one of my favorite poets. Try this small collection and taste his unique, rule-breaking, genre-bending style – it may just inspire you to create or write differently than the norm!

Ehh They Were All Right…

8. Siddhartha by Herman Hesse – This is why you read classics BEFORE you have to read them for a class – the dissection of an author’s work makes the story less enjoyable to read. I definitely want to re-read this outside of a school setting, where I know I’ll fully appreciate it’s meaningful and philosophical themes.

9. If I Did It: Confessions of the Killer by O.J. Simpson – Still haven’t been able to fully articulate my feelings on this one. I was very young when the whole trial was going on, and have no recollection of it, but the book was informative to some degree. However, by the end, I was more starving for the definitive truth than ever. I had a creepy feeling throughout the entire novel that I couldn’t completely believe or trust what I was reading, which left me a little puzzled and unsatisfied at the end. It is a must-read for a refresher on the case, and, of course, to hear from the mouth of the accused what he believes may have occurred.

~~ Click on the titles to see the books on GoodReads.com, where you can read other reviews and find out more information! I definitely recommend the site for all the avid-book lovers out there or even the casual reader looking for something to read! ~~

And if you want to follow what I read on the site, click here! :)

So my goal for the end of 2012 is to read 108 books – I think that’s a worthwhile goal for my last year on earth! ;) (hehe, get it? Because…Because the Mayan Calendar said we’d die this year…hehe…not funny? Okay…) Anyway, back to reading The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman…

megan:)