Brent
POPE
Shopping dropout
Mall theory: Right size, right style, right on!
FLASHBACK: I was 12 years
old. My mother was taking me
shopping for clothes. I tried on some
jeans in the dressing room. My mom
said, “Come out here so I can see if
the pants fit!” So
I went out, and
she loudly asked
me questions
like: “Do they
feel tight in the
butt?”,"Are the
pant legs short
enough?”and
“They don’t
pinch your little
peier, uo ineyr
Since then, shopping has ranked very
low on my list of “necessities of
life,” right below diarrhea.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy
shopping as much as the next Ewok
from the forest moon ofEndor (I
have no idea what that means), but I
like to do it my way.
I staunchly believe that this
activity must be done only under the
strictest of guidelines. Here they are:
1. Know what items you-want to
buy before you go.
2. Know where you want to buy
these items.
3. Know how long you want to
spend browsing. (Maximum time
limit: 15 minutes.)
4. No questions about my “peter.”
M
That’s all I ask for — a little assurance
that I won’t be dragged out of the
mall eight hours later, sputtering out
sentence fragments like ‘the shoes
are alive’ and ‘please kill me. ’”
That’s all I ask for — a little
assurance that I won’t be dragged out
of the mall eight hours later, sputter
ing out sentence fragments like “the
shoes are alive” and “please kill me.”
And it’s not like I haven’t tried.
My fiancee occasionally gets me to
go to the mall with her, but when I
attempt to use my guidelines, I find
that they are useless against her
Imelda Marcos-like shopping
prowess. Here’s what usually
happens:
First, we go to a clothing store.
Oh look, arrack of shirts that are ON
SALE. If I look at a rack of shirts
and I don’t see one I like in the first
three shirts, I’m outta there!
Rachel, on the other hand, is much
more thorough. She looks at every
single shirt, feels it, holds it up to the
light, looks for holes or missing
buttons, checks the washing instruc
tions label, and also looks at every
duplicate shirt, just in case one
happens to look just a little bit better
than the rest of the EXACT SAME
SHIRTS! And that’s just to decide if
she wants to try it on.
I never try cm clothes anymore.
All I need is something my size that
I like; that’s it.
Of course, the most useless part of
our shopping expeditions is when she
asks “Does this (insert article of
clothing) look good?” I call this part
useless because my answer to this
question will have absolutely no
impact on whether or not she buys
the article of clothing in question.
If I say, “Yes, it looks just dandy,”
then she says, “It’s ugly. I can’t
believe you like it.”
If I say, “No, it’s appalling,” then
she says “Oh, it’s so cute. I can’t
believe you don’t like it.” It’s like
trying to catch a fly ball near the
right field fence at Yankee Stadium:
You can’t win. (By the way, I believe
that little boy should have been
caned Singapore-style.)
Anyhow, after a few hours of
excruciating shopping, I’m
basically in a coma. By this time, the
most important thing for a store to
have is a chair. If it doesn’t have one,
I don’t go in. I can’t, because they
won’t let me sit on the floor.
It always ends the same way. Our
last stop is the shoe store, where I
collapse into a chair and converse
with someone with a name like Elmer
or Ole Smitty. We talk about
World War II, the Dust Bowl, and
free BINGO at McDonald’s.
Eventually Rachel takes pity on
me and we go home.
But I don’t really feel sorry for
myself, I feel sorry for Elmer and Ole
Smitty. They’ve been diving into
store chairs for decades. I’ve only
just begun.
Pope is a senior broadcasting
major and a Daily Nebraskan
columnist
Heather
LAMPE
A homey addiction
Cable’s domestic deities captivate my hearth
My textbooks haven’t seen the
light of day in weeks. My dirty
laundry has taken on a life and a
peculiar fragrance of its own. If I
don’t get this monkey off my back
sochi, I may have
to seek help in a
12-step program.
It isn’t
alcohol. It isn’t
drugs. It’s my
addiction to the
Home and Garden
channel and the
Food Network on
cable. I’ve
become a home-decorating and
recipe junkie.
I couldn’t be the average college
couch potato who spends hours
watching MTV. I have to embarrass
my friends and family with my
dreams of becoming a domestic
goddess, the next Martha Stewart.
Martha Stewart is my idol. If you
don’t know who Martha Stewart is or
watch her show, you’re missing out
on hours of humiliating yourself.
Martha is the guru of the perfect
home.
I was once in love with Julia
Childs, but her French accent and
high-pitched, shrill voice reminded
me too much of Painter Smurf
(1980s cartoon flashback). Besides,
Julia only cooked. Martha can do
anything.
Martha can take a pile of steamy
garbage and make it into a lamp. She
can take used Kleenex and tinfoil and
make elegant holiday ornaments. She
can whip up a dinner party for 20 in a
half-hour, without having to include
hot dogs in her menu. And her
it
I couldn’t be the average college couch
potato who spends hours watching MTV. I
have to embarrass my friends and family
with my dreams of becoming a domestic
goddess, the next Martha Stewart. ”
definition of the perfect pastry
doesn’t include Pop-tarts.
My advice is to watch her
handiwork, but don’t try it at home.
This is where the humiliation comes
in. Anything you try will never turn
out as beautifully as Martha’s.
During one show Martha made
this magnificent chocolate cake
decorated with chocolate leaves. I
managed to make the cake, it was the
chocolate leaves that tripped me up.
Martha Used real tree leaves and
poured melted semi-sweet chocolate
on the waxy sides. She then cooled
them and peeled off the chocolate
imprint of the leaf.
Though it sounds rather easy, it
seems to be a talent that God gave
only to Martha. When I went to peel
off thechocolate, chunks of oak leaf
stuck to the confection. I tried to get
them all off, but I seemed to have
failed at that too. When! turned to
one of my dinner guests at dessert,! ,
noticed a piece of green stem stuck
to her lip.
I tried to explain to her that
roughage was a necessary part of
every diet, but she wasn’t amused.
I also want to mention right now
that one should not use leaves from
the poison ivy and marijuana
families. They do not go over well
either.
Martha isn’t my wily cable friend
though. I also like to watch Molto
Mario. He’s this Italian cook who
looks like a cross between a lepre
chaun and Gregg Allman, Cher’s ex
husband and the leader of The
Allman Brothers Band.
. Molto Mario has yet to break out
in song, but last night he made a
lovely grilled swordfish with a side
of vegetables, topped with a fabulous
balsamic vinegar dressing. OK, it
looked like nothing I would ever eat,
but the way he julienned those
vegetables made me hot.
, Following Mario’s show, there is i
cooking game show that puts Bob
Barker’s Plinko exploits to shame.
It’s called Ready, Set, Cook. The
show brings in two famous chefs
from upscale East Coast restaurants
(no Weenie Hut chefs are invited)
and pairs them with two audience
members. - ^
The two audience member
contestants go the the grocery store
and pick out five or six items fra- the
chef to make into a culinary master
piece. Both chefs are given a pantry
of staples like spices, flour and milk.
The chefs are given 20 minutes to
cook, and then they are judged.
My goal is to be a contestant on
this show. Most contestants bring
their chefs basic items: tomatoes,
chicken, shrimp, rice. I would want
to challenge my chef.
“OK, audience, let’s see what
Heather has brought for tier chef!!” ~
(Applause.)
“Well, today I brought Pierre a
box of*Fruit Loops, a stalk of celery,
: chili sauce, a can of Spam, and a
package of unsweetened Kool-Aid.”
(Applause. French cuss words.
More applause.)
Sometimes Martha and the other
chefs on these shows tend to go too
fast for the average viewer at home.
Because the shows are short, they
have to make the meals in elapsed
time. By the time you saute your
beef, they’re digesting the meal.
“Dammit, Molto Mario, SLOW
DOWN!!” I scream, pelting the TV
with onion. “Did you say one
teaspoon of curry or a cup?”
Most shows offer viewers copies
t of recipes. I say forget the recipes.
Prepare a bowl of macaroni and
cheese, garnish it julienned hot dogs
and serve with a lovely white milk.
Perfection!
Lampe is a senior news-editorial
and English major and a Daily
Nebraskan columnist.
