As if that wasn't bad enough, the recipe also called for toasted coconut. Originally I was just going to put it into a frying pan with a lid over top and stir it around every so often, but the directions I found online said to lay the coconut out on a cookie sheet and put it into the oven for ten to fifteen minutes. Oh, and you should also be sure to check and stir it frequently to keep it from burning, but I didn't see the last bit. As such, almost immediately after my white chocolate was ruined, I opened the oven and unleashed such a foul smelling and acrid cloud of smoke that even with my eyes closed tight, they were still watering. It was all black. Nice and shiny, but all black, so what did I do? Scraped that into the garbage, threw the vomit-chocolate out, and tossed the batter as well, then washed everything, before starting over and making two batches of oatmeal peanut butter cup cookies. Those turned out perfectly, but as for the other recipe, well, it's not a very promising start into the book, but I'll give them another try probably next Thursday. Oh, and it's unrelated, but I also went right back against what I said about not getting anything from Tim Hortons or 7-11 today, but I only got two teas this time, making the waste purely monetary. On which note Orlando dropped the cake pan off after work earlier, so he has his ten dollars again, and that's all done with. Now I'm just curious what George's mom will have thought of the cupcake he brought home to her the other night, but I won't get a chance to ask until Sunday, and that depends on remembering to.
Referring back to my previous entry now though, I'm starting to give more and more thought to writing a story of my own lately. I was thinking about it a couple nights ago, writing (typing) ideas down and such, which was fun because said ideas were mostly along the lines of being scary, and I couldn't so much as leave my room and go downstairs without being scared myself as a side effect. It happened once before too, a very, very long time ago when I wrote a Pokémon themed story. I was getting so into it that every little sound, such as somebody out in the hallway walking to the bathroom would make me jump. Those were fun nights - back when I used to stay up only 'til 10 or so, and it still felt like I had all the time in the world for my interests. I actually wonder if I still have that notebook. Probably, because I can remember that I was also playing through Secret of Mana at the time and really enjoying it, and wanting to write a story about the game too, but it never came to pass, and now the only remnants of my writings I have are here, and here. Not that they're bad or anything, but they are old. Going back to being frightened by what I was writing though, it's an interesting sensation. Oh, sure, being scared is nothing particularly unusual, because I was just tonight on the way home from Tim Hortons, when somebody stopped along the side of the street right where I was walking, got out of their car, and walked around behind me, but it's completely different being in a safe place and still evoking those feelings. It's been quite a while since these things crossed my mind (before a couple nights ago, of course), but I remember imagining that I was all on my own, in complete blackness (and silence). I would remain there for a bit, but then eventually would hear a noise off in the distance, or "see" (in my "mind's eye", if you will) something coming towards me, and as it got closer and closer, I would get more and more scared, because I had nowhere to run or hide. Mind you, equally emotive would be a dream I had recently. Somebody let Smokey out on the lawn, and I ran after and practically pounced (seriously) off the porch to grab her, followed by saying "I love you Smokey!" in a really heavy and sad voice, and then actually feeling an impossibly large lump form in my throat, and I woke up just as I was about to start crying. Is it a metaphor for things lately, what with all these regrets and frustrations and whatnot? Yeah, probably, but that still doesn't explain where Smokey fits in. Or the other person, which I think might have been Josh, but dreams are as mysterious as ever, and it's just been a while since I had a sad one, I guess.
With that large paragraph out of the way, however, I think it's time I was getting to bed. I will, of course, end up playing Metroid: Zero Mission some more before I actually go to sleep, because I pulled out my GBA Micro back on Tuesday and have been playing some games with it again. Metroid Fusion is currently annoying because I'm stuck at the spider-like boss (in the reactor silo area), and I was going to play through either Castlevania: Harmony of Dissonance or Aria of Sorrow, but my copy of Castlevania Double Pack has gone missing, and while some are available online, they're still much too expensive. Which reminds me I need to deposit this hundred dollars tomorrow (I didn't make it up there today), but I will get to the rest of those things, well, tomorrow. For now, I'd really like to be asleep by 8~