I have long speculated that a person’s favourite shape of pasta is closely aligned to, and revealing of, personality traits which I propose to explore in this enlightening blog post. So here is it, a penne for my thoughts!
Starting with the most popular of all the pasta shapes, if Fusilli is your favourite pasta, chances are that you are equally as popular! Your taste for spirals and twists indicate a playfulness in your personality which simply does not exist amidst other shapes. Through allowing equal distribution of sauce, Fusilli is also one of the more balanced of the pastas and thus indicating your desire for equilibrium and moderation in day to day life. However, if your balance is compromised and you end up a little overcooked, the Fusilli-lover will inevitably spiral out of control and potentially end up as soggy as a wet sock.
Incidentally the bow-shape is my own reigning champion, although that wont stop me highlighting the frivolity of the bow-lover’s personality. Lets face it, we enjoy frills and getting dressed up in the pearls we spent two pounds on in Primark. Yet, despite a potential streak of vanity in our characters, the chewiness of the pasta’s inside indicates there’s far more than just meets the eye. In fact, it could even be p’a’stulated that our well-groomed outer layer is merely a distraction from an inside that simply needs a little more cooking and a little more love before we can fully flourish. Aw.
It perhaps comes as no surprise that the hollow nature of the Penne shape embodies the intrinsic hollowness of its lover. As a result of this, you often let people in a little too easily which can lead you to spending time with the wrong crowds. The jealousy you hold for your slightly cooler and more fun-loving uncle -the Macaroni- suggests that you’re also almost certainly predishposed to jealousy. The simplicity of Penne reveals that whilst you enjoy the quiet side of life, you are well-liked and particularly cherished by your close family whose love you appreciate most in the world.
Lasagna is undoubtedly the most friendly of the pasta personalities; even your name sparks the comfort and friendliness which your many layers sing to the tune of warmth and tastiness. You are traditional and proud of your moral compass which is as sturdy as an uncooked lasagna sheet. Despite your squared shape, you are deceptively fun and adventurous. However, your reliance on mince and onions to create your dish means that you’re almost certainly a little co-dependant, but that’s nothing a little cheese can’t hide.
Your love of the Shell shape unveils a need for protection and almost certainly aligns to your protective nature. Similarly, your caring nature often coincides with loyalty; you would sooner run out of Parmesan cheese than let a friend down. Although that isn’t to say you’re predictable- sometimes you’re open and sometimes you’re closed- and the Shell relies on its uncertainty to remain the life and soul of the party. In this way you are also the blurred line between extroverted and introverted and you refuse to shell yourself short.
The malleable and flowing shape of spaghetti means that you enjoy a carefree and relaxed existence. Your flexible nature, whilst making you good at compromising and thus relationships in general, means that you are easily taken advantage of. It is most likely due to your carefree attitude which makes you the messiest of all the shapes and as a result you are terrible on first dates.
You’re either attempting to eat this through your nose because you’re two years old or you need to learn to let go.
with thanks to jefurber for his drawings of the more expert-level shapes.
In only a number of hours I shall be leaving my home town with the destination of university. My suitcases have piled up alongside my nerves and I am quite assuredly terrified.
Though it has been a long time coming, I can not say that I feel totally prepared, for indeed, I don’t entirely know what to expect and therefore what it is I have been preparing myself for. I’ve spent my life in the same old town with the same faces and the prospect of change never fails to leave me a little scared.
My nerves, however, are churning amidst a flurry of excitement; I am truly looking forward to meeting new people and experiencing life outside of my little old town. All my farewells leave me knowing I shall have a great deal to miss in my upcoming adventures…
…but an adventure it will be.
There’s not much I shall expect to miss more than this little kitty.
‘If you are a nettle, then I am stung.’
These are undoubtedly the sweetest and most profound words that have ever been spoken to me. Although perhaps formed in an air of jest, I believe they tell and acutely accept the very nature of what it is to, and be in, love.
To love is to accept that humans have the capacity to inflict pain and are, in so many other ways, flawed.
It also encapsulates how love isn’t a bed of ever blooming flowers. It is, by definition, the extremity that incorporates the entire spectrum of feelings and emotions. Love can indeed sting but it can also blossom. It can grow in the quiet corners of our mind until it becomes impossible to ignore- releasing its unruly consequences- much like the spurs of nettles.
This year I have the pleasure of festively earmarking my blog with the ‘Christmas Tag’. I received this tag by a favourite blogger and poet of mine whose ‘technological challenges’ I do not mean to rub in, but by clicking here, it will send you to his blog.
1. Have you ever had a white Christmas?
I don’t doubt that one of my eighteen Christmases was spent under a white sheet of those cold mounds that hold limitless potential. More memorably, perhaps, was a particular ‘white birthday’ I had a few years ago where my party involved a few more snowmen than had first been anticipated.
2. What is your favourite Christmas song?
Though I shamefully admit that most Christmas songs prove to bring out the Ebenezer Scrooge in me, there are a few songs which I don’t mind hearing on that familiar premature lead-up to the 25th of December. These include ‘Fairy Tale of New York’ by the Pogues and Kirsty McColl, ‘Pipes of Peace’ by Paul McCartney and Lennon’s ‘So this is Christmas’.
3. Do you open any presents on Christmas Eve?
This questions sparks a question of my own- does anyone?! Though I wouldn’t call myself conspicuously pious over Christmas traditions, I’d say it was nicer to keep up the suspense for as long as possible.
4. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer?
Not even Coke’s plastering of the reindeer’s names on their bottles has lead me to be completely sure of all of them. In fact, I get a bit stuck after Rudolph. This is when you cross me off any potential Christmas Pub teams!
5. What holiday traditions are you looking forward to the most?
This year I was a waitress donning a rather flash Santa hat.. dressing up is possibly my favourite tradition through the Winter months.
6. Is your Christmas tree real or fake?
Due to the recent addition of a fearless kitten in my household whose hobbies include both destruction and general ninja-esque shenanigans, we decided to give the tree a miss this year. Although I’m sure she would make quite the sweet tree-top…
7. What is your all-time favourite holiday food/treat?
8. What is the best Christmas gift you’ve ever received?
‘The Catcher in the Rye’ was given to me by my sister and has since become a favourite novel of mine!
9. Are you a pro-present wrapper, or do you fail miserably?
My wrapping skills are indeed so poor that I do not need to write my name in the ‘from’ sections of my labels as the ruthless taping and messy bulges give me away.
10. What do you wish for Christmas this year?
That my first university choice lets me in so I wont need to resort to getting my higher education in a stable amidst hay and sheep whilst wise men denote me of my intelligence… heh.
11. Favourite Christmas smell?
The smell of fire along with the sound of crinkling logs is quite bliss. Although it can become so cold here in winter that anything heat-related would be my answer to most questions regarding the senses.
12. What place/landmark in your town do you love during Christmas?
I mostly enjoy the overblown lights and blow-up Santas produced by my visibly competitive neighbours.
I hope everyone has a splendid Christmas! Thank you again CityJackDaw for my nomination!
I hadn’t quite reached my teens when a stranger first asked me ‘what are you?’. In those days I wore eye-liner like it was going out of fashion, which, of course, by my corresponding chains and striped tights, wasn’t something I was evidently following. ‘Are you a goth?’ ‘Are you an emo?’ In a town populated by few residents, most of whom belonged to this ‘backwards’ parameter of England, it was inevitable (as my mum would often caution me) that a young girl experimenting with styles would garner a little attention now and again.
I didn’t and still don’t know how to respond to questions like this as I am sure most people can’t and wouldn’t care to fit entirely into a single ‘box.’
“There’s such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I’m such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn’t be half so interesting.”
This quotation, I feel, perfectly encapsulates my inner and outer conflicts. I have rings through my nose but I also smell of Japanese Cherry Blossom; I often trade my shark-tooth necklace for a string of pearls and a black dress can be a white dress the next day.
But of course this isn’t entirely an inner turmoil dealing with merely the trivial issue of aesthetics. I am conflicted in so many areas of my life that it’s not even a matter of not wanting to explain ‘who I am’ to a stranger but more that I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.
Whilst I desire to be a character of morals and impeccable integrity, I simultaneously don’t want to live a life bound by contrived edicts of what is deemed correct or otherwise immoral. In a world that couldn’t deny its propensity to judge and label, it seems that ‘who we are’ is a question of limited answers.
I want to be so many things but, at the same time, nothing at all.
Although I try to steer my life through the means of logic and reason, somewhere, it appears, I have left enough room for a little superstition. As a generally arty-farty kind of person, it wasn’t unusual for me to attempt to draw the people who I had a crush on or was otherwise ardently ‘in love’ with as I’m sure I would have told you at the time of this passing fancy.
But, after maybe a few sketches along the road, I noticed a pattern between the sketching and the heart-breaking. It seemed it was never long after I’d drawn a person when that character would disastrously escape my life… which, of course, is a happier euphemism for ‘I was dumped soon after’.
Of course this emerging pattern of coincidence did leave me to question myself as an artist; perhaps my amateur skills were more disagreeable than I had believed and enough to turn hearts as well as heads.
So now, out of sheer superstition, I never draw people who I’m remotely fond of, for fear that it will be the inevitable catalyst for a hurried escape! It’s become so true in my mind that this ‘curse’ exists, that I’ve even found myself tempted to draw people who I dislike for the single purpose of wanting them out of my life. Is this the kind of confession that might nullify my science qualifications?
No wonder Bob Dylan has not yet responded to my letters of proposal!
A recent self-portrait, although I don’t believe I’m going anywhere any time soon.
In Summer, many people decide to embrace its corresponding sun by taking a cool, well-deserved dip at the seaside. However, the only dipping I’m doing this season is in the parameters of a sink where the waves are soapy and the seaweed is actually left-over cabbage.
Despite my recent upgrade in obtaining full A-Levels, there is no better place to start the path of careerism than at the bottom and in my case that bottom is a plug hole.
Though it may not be exactly glamorous or requiring much in the way of skills, I feel that I have, nonetheless, acquired a great deal of wisdom during my shifts as a washer-upper and this post will disclose these nuggets.
#1 Whisks are now your mortal enemy
With all those small edges and tight corners, these otherwise essential kitchen tools are a profound nuisance to wash. Needless to say they don’t only succeed in stirring soup and Yorkshire pudding batter but also a great deal of anguish during my soggy duties.
#2 Bubbles become a hair accessory
If you have ever imagined that a certain white foaminess would bring out the colour in your eyes then this is undoubtedly a plus! It is impossible to escape the stray suds so one must learn to embrace this otherwise unique and acquired look.
#3 Wrinkly hands
By the time my shift is over my hands look more like the ruins of a tiny volcanic eruption than actual human limbs. Forget face-lifts, if only my tips could afford a permanent ‘hand-lift’!
So perhaps my hours of labour haven’t exactly left me tremendously enlightened, but it is an experience nonetheless!