As I am working on my blog, I figured I would post my accursed Junior Literary Analysis Paper, colloquially known as the JLAP. Whether my paper will embarrass me or expose me to more praise, I do not know. However, I feel that, as I spent so long composing this monster, I may as well put it online.

William Goldman: A Pinch to Grow an Inch (PDF; 52k)

(Actually, this paper is about three pages less than my original final draft; I had to pare it down to meet the length requirements. If I can find an unaltered copy, I may post the paper as I intended it to be.)

Desperate and thirsty at the airport gate in Los Angeles, I found myself in a sticky situation. I could either wait for the drink service on the plane to reach me - where United would provide me with a thimble-sized container of water - or, I could part with four dollars and purchase an overpriced beverage at the Starbucks just feet from the gate. Like the average corruptible American, I chose to brave the Starbucks.

In truth, my tall vanilla bean crème Frappuccino turned out to taste quite good. So good in fact, I actually considered buying another when life afforded me the opportunity. However, without the same beverage-related constraints upon me, my choice the second time was far more logical; I did not indulge in another Frappuccino.

(Though, incidentally, I did discover that the LAX Starbucks charges about 5-10 percent more for their drinks than the half-dozen in my neighborhood.)

Rather, I resolved to discover the secret chemical formula that would enable me to manufacture vanilla bean crème Frappuccino drinks in my lab. Indeed, after some careful prodding on Google, I came upon the recipe, which involved a handful of simple ingredients.

Jubilant at the breakthrough, I rushed to concoct my very own Frappuccino. I tossed the ice, nonfat milk, soy beverage mix, and vanilla flavoring into the blender and flicked it on. After several minutes of whirring and whining, I stopped the blender, figuring that it had made enough noise to shake someone out of an Ambien-induced sleepwalk.

The inside of my blender was something to behold.

All told, it managed to partially chafe about one of the dozen or so ice cubes I added. The others remained mostly cubic, aside from the minute amounts of melting that took place.

Bearing in my that the blender in my kitchen had spent a good twenty plus years blending this, that, and the other, I decided the time had come for a replacement. My first thought was the $400 Vita-Mix, which has a two horse power motor, putting it on equal footing with many chainsaws. One review claimed it could turn cold cheese into hot fondue in four minutes. However, $400 is a lot of money for a blender.

In my moment of need, I turned to the experts at Cook's Illustrated magazine. They recommended the much more reasonable $40 Oster Designer 12-speed blender. Initially, I had doubts about the Frappuccino making abilities of such a blender. But Cook's had never led me astray before.

As people say, there exists a first time for everything. And this was the first time that Cook's failed me. While the Oster managed to attack the ice with more vigor than my other blender, it still left behind several large chunks. Overall, the beverage also had the consistency of roughly crushed saltine crackers with a handful of small rocks added for good measure.

Alone, confused, and without a blender: c'est moi. I may visit the kitchen gadget emporium several more times and try the other models Cook's felt did a good job of pulverizing ice. However, if none of those pan out, there is always the Vita-Mix.