Fishing with Rice

So I promised that I'd tell the story about squirrel fishing with Rice. And that I'd explain why she's called Rice. I'll do so, but don't forget to scroll down and read my post Plugs for Blogs, because I don't want my precious friends to be forgotten.

To give away a bit of Rice's identity, I'm going to admit that her last name is Rogers. I think it's a common enough last name not to get her in trouble (for animal rights violations) on the Internet. Rice's family has a wonderful recipe called Rogers Rice. It was one of the first things I learned about her and one of the first things that made me love her. And believe me---if you got a taste of Rogers Rice, you would want more, too.

I was getting to know Rice in the days before cell phones or caller ID or something---all I know is that I was able to successfully prank call her twice. The first time was a random announcement that her horse was dead (which was funny because she had no horse). The second time, she received a call from Betty Crocker:

Me: Yes, may I please speak to Rice Rogers?

Rice: This is Rice.

Me: Hello, Ms. Rogers. This is Karen from Betty Crocker Inc. It has come to our attention that you have been preparing and sharing a recipe you call "Rogers Rice." Is that correct?

Rice: Yes, that is correct.

Me: Well, Ms. Rogers, it juts so happens that we at Betty Crocker hold the copyright on that recipe and if you do not stop passing out the recipe, we will have to press charges.

Okay, so she figured out it was me. I thought I was very convincing.

Another random fact you should know about Rice that has nothing to do with squirrel fishing is that she hates dairy. I don't understand it. How can anyone not like cheese or ice cream? One day at a Pie Night, I had brought a lemon merengue pie but still had to prepare the merengue. So I had two little egg whites in a small cup. When Rice asked me what was in the cup, Captain Fabuloso and I quickly informed her that it was a non-dairy drink that we brought for her that she simply had to try. So she tried it and then spat the egg whites back into the cup, and then I got mad at her for ruining my merengue. And then El Senor grabbed the "non-dairy drink" that she had spat in and he drank the whole thing down. And I was relieved that my eggs were unwasted. (Here, I'd insert a joke about my eggs being wasted every month as I hurtle toward spinsterhood, but that might gross you all out more than the idea of El Senor drinking egg whites, and none of you would take me seriously anyway because you'd all say something like, "Oh you have a boyfriend. You can't complain.")


Squirrel Fishing

Alright, alright. This is what you all wanted to hear anyway. Before my mission, Rice moved out to the DC area, where I was also living with my parents. She had no friends and I had no friends, so we'd get together and try to find things to do that were new and interesting. One day, we made an unforgettable trip to Historic Ellicott City. We thought it was going to be fun. Instead, we just hit antique shop after antique shop, and really, you can only take so much of that. Another day, in listing ideas of activities, somehow "turtle fishing" was mentioned. Okay, so it may have been me that mentioned it. The fact was that our family lived on a house that backed onto a lake that had turtles. And I had never seen live turtles before! And so I wanted to catch one and play with it.

I reasoned that when I went crawdad fishing (12 years earlier), we caught the crawdads by fastening bacon onto strings tied to sticks. Turtles couldn't be so different. So Rice and I got a broom stick, tied on some string, and brought some hot dogs with us to fasten to the end of the string. We brought a bucket and set off to the lake, full of hope.

It took us about five minutes with our hot dog in the water to figure out that no turtles were going to be interested in what we had to offer. We took our hot dog out of the water and started walking back home. But the woods we had to walk through were full of squirrels. So we decided to see what we could catch. We set the hot dog, still tied to the string attached to our stick, on the ground. A squirrel approached, tentatively picked up the hot dog, and started running as fast as it could. Until it got to the end of the string, at which point, the hot dog stayed still and the squirrel's feet flew out from under it. Upon recovery, the confused squirrel returned to the hot dog and repeated the same process. Rice and I were thrilled to exploit a stupid and helpless creature for our own entertainment.

After a few tries, the squirrel finally wrenched the hot dog free of the string and took off with its prize. And Rice and I set off with a new hot dog to find a new squirrel.


Rogers Rice

2 cups of long grain rice
2 cans of beef consume soup
2 cans of french onion soup
1/2 stick of butter

Combine in a casserole dish and bake at 375 for 45 minutes.
Serve, and enjoy a little piece of Rogers heaven.

(and don't tell Betty Crocker)

Plugs for Blogs

Some of you (meaning Th., who I congratulate and admire) have noticed that I have some new blogs in my sidebar. I will now shamelessly plug these blogs, and you will visit them. You may even comment if the posts are of interest to you.

The Disavowed

This is a guy who sits in front of me in my American Lit class. I normally don't become friends with people from classes, but this year I made a few exceptions. It all started one day when I found a seat by an outlet where I could sit and plug in my computer. The Disavowed was sitting in front of me, also using the outlet for his computer. We had a conversation about wireless internet (unavailable in our classroom). Two girls sat beside us. One day, the teacher instructed the class to break up into groups---each row would form a group---to discuss what we had read. I disobeyed the teacher and informed the people around me (The Disavowed, who sat in my row, and the girls next to us who sat in the next row) that instead of breaking off into rows where we'd inevitably have to move around to talk to each other, we'd just form our own group, and the front half of our two rows could make another group. It worked out well, and we all somehow managed to bond over the experience.

Now I have always known that The Disavowed had a crush on me. Like, this one time, two weeks ago, he came to class all sheepishly, and asked what my name was, pointing out that we had never had formal introductions. I think that he did it because he was hiding his true love for me. In fact, when I happened to mention my boyfriend once, he was crestfallen. I can understand this. This last week, we had lunch together after our class. It seemed like a spur-of-the-moment thing, but I know that he had it all planned out. Since he knows that I have a tremendously huge crush on my own boyfriend, he asked out one of the other girls who sits with us. They did something together twice this weekend. Again, I know that this is compensation for the fact that he can't have me. He's just trying to get over me by replacing me with someone else. Good luck, The Disavowed. Good luck.


Sophie

Sophie, Sophie, Sophie. I met Sophie because during our freshman year, people mistook me for her. That's a compliment, people. Finally, one person who had mistaken me for her introduced the two of us one day and we became fast friends. Sophie and I lived together during my junior year of college, right before I left on my mission. Among the things that I miss the most about living with Sophie are 1) listening to her sing loudly and at random 2) borrowing her clothes 3) listening to her laughing all by herself in the other room because she's reading a book 4) listening to her run to my room and start reading the funny part of the book aloud to me 5) eating the food that she cooked 6) buying beer for her when she was a minor (I promise that it was only for a recipe) and 7) being inspired by her art and the artwork of her family members (my time living with Sohpie was undoubtedly my most artistic phase).

Sophie is an incredible writer. One of the privileges of living with her was getting to edit her papers. She was an anthropology major, and all of her essays were personal narratives about something or other. And they were all so good. Check out her blog if you're interested in getting to know her better. Also, check out her contest.


M. Paul Bailey

M. Paul Bailey, a.k.a. Viper, has never actually expressed interest in gaining readership (unlike the two that I have heretofore plugged). So I emailed him before posting this to request permission to plug his blog. He told me to "feel free to pimp [his] blog if[I]'d like, but don't
bother working too hard at doing it" because although he'd be happy to have other people read his blog, it's not all that important to him.

I wouldn't have spent much time on this, but because he used the phrase "pimp my blog" I simply have to. One of the best reasons to read MPB's blog is that he updates so very seldomly. It means that reading his blog is very time-friendly. You can give it a good five minutes every month or so. The other best reason to read his blog is that it is always serious. See, I date multi-faceted men, and although Viper is in fact a comedian, he is also a very opinionated person who thinks a lot about the world and what's going on. I was talking to a girl in my ward who went on a date with him last semester and assured me that after one date, she knew that he and she would only ever be friends because their political views were so very different. So if you want to think about serious things, visit his blog. If you want to have a laugh, visit Comedy Sportz. And pay money, because comedy doesn't come for free. (No, seriously. For every joke he makes in my presence, he makes me make out with him for ten minutes.)

(Mom, Dad, that's definitely a joke. Haha!)

My mom is funny.

Last night I had the opportunity to talk to a friend who we'll call Rice, the Squirrel Fisher---or "Rice" for short. I'll explain tomorrow why she's called Rice and what exactly Squirrel Fishing is. For today, I would like to share what she shared with me yesterday.

Rice is my age---she's friends with all the kids in our family, and a few years ago, she moved to D.C. to get her PhD. She's going to cure diabetes. She's quite funny and personable and my parents loved her as soon as they met her. Since she now only lives about 45 minutes away from my parents, my parents remember to invite her to their house for special occasions, like thanksgiving and Easter. This past thanksgiving, my mom called her to invite her, but Rice had to decline the invitation because she had plans. Still, she stayed on the phone with my mom for a full 45 minutes and chatted. She was in her lab at the time, and when she got off the phone, a coworker asked her, "Who was that?" She replied, "Oh, that was El Senor's mom." Her coworker said, "That's just weird."

As you know (or as you may not know because BYU doesn't celebrate this holiday), Easter is this weekend. So my mom called Rice to extend her the Easter invitation. Rice accepted and then the girls chatted.

Mom: So. Got any hot dates this weekend?

Rice: I do, in fact. Do you?

Mom: Yes. I'm dating an American now.

I just thought it was a cute and funny way for my mom to announce that my dad was sworn in as an American citizen this past week. So here's my dad, or the guy my mom's dating, all sworn in.

A New Generation of Thieves

In my recent post on game addiction, I mentioned that my mom read an article about kids returning to the home after they graduate. The article said that guys go home and stay while girls go home and use it as a stepping stone to get out. MPB posted a response in which he suggested that it's the parents' fault that kids do this. It made me think about another article I read recently. The article is about kids who steal from their parents. Feel free not to read it; I just don't have anything else to post today, but I've been meaning to point out this article since MPB's comment.

It's the Kids. Lock Up the China!

By STEPHANIE ROSENBLOOM

APRIL WILKNER literally got caught with her pants down.

She was traveling with her mother in Japan, visiting a spa in Tokyo. The two of them were stuffing their clothes into lockers and slipping on robes when her mother saw the cherry-patterned underwear her daughter was wearing.

"Where did you get those?" Ms. Wilkner's mother said. "Those are mine."

"Huh?" she replied. But it was pointless to deny it. The red cherries were unmistakable.

Ms. Wilkner, 24, a fashion model in Manhattan, had come across the brand-new Brazilian-cut briefs in a basket in her mother and stepfather's home in Providence, R.I. Assuming her mother had accidentally bought sexy underwear instead of her usual granny style, Ms. Wilkner had simply helped herself.

It was not the first time Ms. Wilkner had swiped something from her mother. She often appropriated socks, spices, oatmeal, once even a chest of drawers she found in her mother's bedroom that had yet to be assembled. "That was a pretty good steal," Ms. Wilkner said. "Oh, I took a bookshelf, too. Clocks. I took artwork, a bunch of Monet prints. But my parents have plenty of artwork."

A generation ago, adult children visiting their parents' homes might have left with a Tupperware container of lasagna. Today, many of them stealthily make off with toiletries, groceries, sometimes clothing and even furniture. It is an apparently widespread practice, born of a sense of entitlement among young adults - and usually amusedly tolerated by parents - that gives new meaning to the phrase "home shopping." Like most adults, the pilferers have set up their own households, but they seem not to have given up the expectation that their parents should provide for them in certain ways. They loot their parents' houses to cut costs, or because they would rather not pay for incidentals. Or because they want things with sentimental value.

Sometimes the children ask if they can take things. Often they do not.

Dan P. McAdams, a professor of psychology and human development at Northwestern University, said this kind of filching was one more example of the way grown children were putting off adulthood: living at home longer than they did a generation ago, staying in school longer and getting married later. "A lot of people in their mid and late 20's do not think of themselves as adults," Dr. McAdams said, "even if they make a lot of money."

The result is a period of life that has come to be known among some sociologists and psychologists as emerging adulthood. "It's like a new stage in life," Dr. McAdams said. "They're not teenagers, and they're not really adults."

Stephen Kunken, 34, an actor in New York who is an admitted "pillager" of his parents' possessions, said he rationalized that his parents had too much stuff and that he was both "trimming the fat" and "liberating" things. "I thought: 'These poor things. These are never going to get used. I'm going to liberate them and bring them into the city,' " he said.

Through the years Mr. Kunken has taken briefcases, a slide projector, an electric toothbrush, razors, blank tapes, paper towels, soap and bottles of wine.

His parents did not know their wine was missing until he served it to them at a party at his Brooklyn apartment. "We had our own wine that he stole," his mother, Ginny Kunken, said. "It was very nice that he invited us."

His parents are accustomed to finding things missing. "What have they taken?" said her husband, Fred Kunken, a dentist from Upper Brookville, N.Y., referring to Stephen and his 37-year-old brother, Jeffrey. "What haven't they taken? They've taken just about every bit of my clothing, from my underwear and socks to --"

"Bathing suits," his wife interjected, laughing.

"All of a sudden my razors disappear," Dr. Kunken said. "Shaving cream disappears. It's gotten to the point that if I see them coming, and if it's something I just got that I want to wear, I hide it."

That parents find their grown children's thieving humorous is a reflection of how family dynamics have changed, some experts said. Parents of previous generations maintained an authoritative stance toward their adult children, but now relationships are more equal, more like friendship, said Frank F. Furstenberg, a professor of sociology at the University of Pennsylvania and the chairman of the MacArthur Foundation Research Network on Transitions to Adulthood, which examines the changing nature of early adulthood. "That's been a secular trend throughout the whole 20th century," Dr. Furstenberg said.

Having grown up with a feeling of friendship with their parents, Dr. McAdams said, many young adults may feel comfortable taking their things. And parents, wanting to maintain the camaraderie, look the other way. Some even keep their cupboards full so there is plenty to go around.

Today's empty nests, especially those in affluent neighborhoods, are also generally bigger and better stocked than ever before, Dr. McAdams said. Some are almost like warehouses, especially if the parents shop at discount stores like Sam's Club and BJ's Wholesale Club.

Replacement razors for the Gillette Mach 3 are expensive if you buy them in small packages, Stephen Kunken said. But his father buys them in bulk. "He goes to Costco and has 40, so I'm like, 'I'll take eight,' " Mr. Kunken said.

Ms. Wilkner said her mother hoarded things and had "a wall of toilet paper" in the bathroom. "They're not going to miss six rolls," she said.

Toilet paper is typically the first quarry in a life of petty thievery from parents' homes, many filchers said. During a visit the grown-up child notices an abundance of Charmin in a parent's bathroom, is perhaps reminded of the inferior brand in his or her own apartment, and suddenly decides to tuck a few rolls under an arm and deposit them in a knapsack. Soon the thief is taking other provisions. Toothpaste. Windex. Band-Aids. Electronics and home furnishings are not far behind.

"Ketchup and toilet paper are those things that you just really don't want to pay for," said Nicole Atkins, 26, a musician who lives in Brooklyn, adding that her parents "are generous to let me take their peanut butter and paper towels."

Debbie Jaffe, a 31-year-old actress, takes her mother's camera film. "She always has excess of everything," Ms. Jaffe said. "I took a printer recently. She had an extra."

Naomi Finkelstein, 24, a campus recruiter for a financial institution, said, "My parents are very giving." She has taken bags of marshmallows, batteries and other "little things that I just end up tossing into the bag," as well as groceries that her parents freely hand over.

Some parents balk at the practice of home shopping. They may remember reaching their own independence earlier in life, and how their parents had gone through the Great Depression and were extremely frugal. Taking things from them was out of the question.

"I think there is some resentment older adults might have," Dr. McAdams said, adding that these parents may see their children as "lacking focus."

But these are generally not the parents whose homes get looted. The filchers often say they would never take items their parents truly valued. Many parents say they are amused, or even flattered, by the pilfering. "It means they need us," said Dr. McAdams, a father of two. "It's nice to be needed."

Robin Hoffman of Manhattan has a daughter, 26, who took family photographs, and a son, 24, who took a cushy chair that used to belong to her father. "I'm happy that they want it and that they'll use it," Ms. Hoffman said. "I think it's great."

The phrase "emerging adulthood" does imply that these sticky fingers will eventually become independent. Is there a specific age by which one should finally accept the responsibility of paying one's way? Psychologists and economists point to the early or mid-30's.

"By the early 30's the assistance that kids are receiving from their parents dissipates strongly," said Robert F. Schoeni, an associate professor of economics and public policy at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. "The kids are establishing their careers, they're getting better-paid jobs, getting married."

Ms. Atkins, who has decorated her Brooklyn apartment with shot glasses, candles, Mexican marionettes and boxing gloves from her parents' house in Neptune, N.J., says she will cease her home shopping once she gets married and has a family.

"If I had kids and a husband, and I was still taking stuff from my parents," she said, "that would be really lame."

Police Beat Again

I think I'm going to have to start doing this every week. It's just too good. I was sharing my favorites with Viper yesterday, and he commented on the fact that it's nice to live in a place where the following things make Police Beat. I agree. I'm glad to live in a place where I can read Police Beat and laugh. And laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

TRESPASS

Three male students and one female student were swimming in the Deseret Towers pool at 12:55 a.m. Tuesday.

An employee at Heritage Halls reported Monday that a man who is a former BYU student continues to return to Heritage Halls, creating a disruption and bringing women into the men's residence halls.

Police responded to a report of two males in a female residence in S-Hall of Deseret Towers. Officers were unable to locate the men.

THEFT

A custodian's keys were stolen as she cleaned a women's restroom in the WSC on Friday. The custodian set the keys down when she began to clean the restroom at 7:45 p.m. and found them missing at 8 p.m.

I wonder how many "thefts" at BYU are actually students taking items to the Lost and Found...

A male student's backpack was stolen Friday after being left in the Cannon Center cafeteria. The owner of the backpack returned to the cafeteria three hours after leaving it there and found the bag had disappeared.

Dude. Check the Lost and Found in three weeks. It'll be there.

A professor told police March 29 his cell phone was stolen during his trip to Panama.

And the police officer who's been assigned to retrieve it is THRILLED.

A framed print was stolen from the wall near 3380 WSC. The picture, titled Roundtrip Wyoming by Robert Duman, was valued at $200.

It's a roundtrip. Wherever it's gone---probably Wyoming---it'll be back.

NOISE

Officers responded to a noise complaint Sunday and found a group of students being noisy outside Taylor Hall in Helaman Halls.

Run this by me again---You say that the police responded to a noise complaint and they found what again? Noise?

A group of male students created a noise disturbance Thursday while riding the elevator in Deseret Towers U-Hall, a female residence hall.

Should this have been filed under NOISE or TRESPASSING? Since it's filed under NOISE, I assume that making noise is a worse crime than trespassing.

Police responded to reports of screaming around 10:40 a.m. March 29 from the east side of Lavell Edwards Stadium. Officers found three female students engaging in a screaming contest.

Bwahahahahahaha! This one truly brings tears to my eyes.

COMPUTER

A male student called police Friday after being unable to log on to an on-campus computer.

Ambrosia clearly didn't take all the steps necessary to be reinstated in the BYU computer system. Lesson learned: Don't call IT services. Call the police.

VEHICLE CONCERNS

A female student told police another driver hit her car with his hand March 29 after she took his parking spot. The student was concerned her car might be the target of further vandalism.

Police responded to a report of several males riding their motorcycles on the sidewalk March 28 near Helaman Halls. The motorcyclists were gone on arrival.