Goddammit. I can’t believe it’s been over two months since I last posted… but, above all, I can’t believe that I’m still posting up in this bitch.
Here’s a not-so-little update on the inane happenings in my life, including some random things that have been crossing my mind. Yaaaaaaaaaay 2010! Revel in the insignificance of this number for a little bit before I commence, hm?
Okay, time’s up.
1. Christmas and New Year’s Eve have come and gone; delicious food was made, consumed, digested, and evacuated: some kind of salad, roasted chicken, cauliflower gratin, mashed potatoes, caramelized leeks, chocolate mousse, cookies, etc. I’ve been getting into cooking lately. I think it’s really helping me appreciate food ten times more than I already did.
Some favorite foods of the moment:
– hot (spicy) pork sausage
– mashed potatoes with/out caramelized onions
– salt and pepper potato chips
– marble cheesecake
– sauteed potato cubes with garlic
– toasted cheese and tomato sandwiches with onions and mustard
– spring mix salad with radishes, onions, and fried parsnips and homemade vinaigrette
– stir-fry Shanghai bok choy
2. I buy useful things that are useless to me by virtue of the fact that I just don’t use them. Though, you know, I feel like I’ve been on the market for a planner for a good ten years now. Before that, I had this awesome planner. For some unknown reason, this country is completely retarded when it comes to office supplies. The aforementioned planner — as well as most planners sold in France — is a one-page-per-day type o’ thing. That is, enough room for you to write down notes and random memos for any given day. Compare this to the one fifth of a page that you get in most of the planners here… yeah, awesome, right? Then again I think about students and about how they all get out of school before the clock even rings 3pm, so whatever.
Anyway, point is, I bought a planner that I deemed somewhat adequate. I’m no longer a student, and I don’t really have tasks for work outside of the office, so I only need a planner to write down appointment times and the like. This is the planner that I bought, in navy, but not in leather; instead, it’s fabric. The year is stitched in lime green on the cover, and the satin bookmark is light blue. I dig it. I dig it even more because it was on sale — I wouldn’t have bought it otherwise, to be honest. Two pages per week; three days on the left and four on the right. Did you see the dimensions? It’s quite large, meaning that each day has an ok-sized fraction of the page. Meaning that I don’t have to write like I have limited mobility in my hands.
Except that I don’t look at it. Never. I open it to write down appointment times, mostly doctors’ appointments, but that’s about it. I have most things committed to memory, which basically means that I don’t need a planner. Attempt at getting organized FAIL. Moving on.
3. I need new clothes. I know, I’m always saying that I need new clothes, but that’s because I never actually buy new clothes. The vast majority of my wardrobe consists of items that I’ve owned for at least five years. How often do people go shopping anyway? If it still fits and doesn’t particularly stand out from anyone else’s clothes, why replace it? I, for one, don’t understand the appeal of clothes shopping. You have to try shit on, which means you have to disrobe at least twice when you find yourself in the fitting rooms. Seriously? What a pain in the ass! And as if that weren’t enough, you have to pay what will likely be an exorbitant amount of money for, say, a t-shirt.
Which brings me to: I can’t find a store that I like and suits my needs (and bank account).
Therefore: Why should I replace my old clothes, which fit just fine and were reasonably priced?
So I guess I don’t actually need new clothes. Just new jeans, maybe. Too cold to be walking around with random holes in your pants.
4. I had jury duty this past Tuesday and thankfully did not get picked. I fucking hate the fact that they pay you NINE DOLLARS for the entire day in the form of a bloody check. Really? A check? Oh, and a negligible discount for lunch? Why don’t you just fucking give me ten bucks in cash?
5. It’s been snowing. a lot. The second real snowfall of the winter started Tuesday night, prompting the city to close and Penn to declare a snow day. Actually two snow days. This, in turn, means that I didn’t go to work on Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. This means that, instead of making $136 for those three days, I made $9. This also means that I didn’t get to go to the gym — and probably won’t until two weeks from now or so — because I have to walk home with my mom who’s terrified of the snow and ice.
In conclusion, I’d like to address all them motherfuckers who’ve been wanting “another blizzard” because they’re either retarded or unemployed, or both, and say: FUCK YOU.
6. It just occurred to me that my life is incredibly boring. On that note, I’m gonna end this and either read a book or take a shower.
Labor Day weekend came and went — and here I am, back in Philadelphia, back at home, back at the former job on Monday, back to square one. After all this time, it feels like nothing has changed. People will disagree and tell me that, no, things -have- changed: I got more education and a certificate. I will reply and say that, no, things have -not- changed, other than the fact that one year was wasted and that I am now in debt. And for what? I still don’t know what I want to do with my life.
Anyway. I’m giving myself six months or so to figure things out and get my shit together. This can’t last forever.
I saw Jason again the night of the 28th. Then he came out again on September 4, when I had my going-away shindig out on the town. We’ve pretty much been talking/corresponding every day since the beginning of August — I guess that, with the subsequent meetings, we could say that we started dating. I was unhappy that I was moving away so soon after meeting him; to my surprise, he said that he wanted to keep talking and seeing each other whenever possible. I’m not sure if this is supposed to be exclusive. It’s quite a commitment, I’d say — don’t you think? I do really like him and thoroughly enjoy his company. I just really wish we were in the same city. Still, Baltimore is closer than DC is, so I suppose that’s not such a horrible thing.
I’ve been sick for over a week now. It’s really draining, but it looks like I’m getting over it. Been plagued with headaches over the past couple days, but it’s nothing some ibuprofen can’t cure. I’m tired. Think I’ll hit the sack.
Sometimes I can’t help but feel incredibly lonely at times, even when in the midst of a group of great people.
I went out on Thursday night and met up with some people for a good night of drinking; that was the fourth time since the previous Saturday, and, well, I’m pretty sure my liver was already hating me pretty hard by that time. I don’t know what it was exactly — the three beers and five tequila shots in one hour, the mindset, the empty stomach, or my current situation — but the anticipated good night turned sour in the blink of an eye. And then, as I leaned over the sink in the dive bar’s bathroom, as a girl I had just met tied my hair up and stroked my back, I lost it; I cried, and cried, and cried, and was completely unable to stop the tears from coming. Every time I opened my mouth, another sob came out, harder and louder than the previous one. I stopped crying long enough to rush out of the bar and get a taxi with my new caretaker. Once I was inside my apartment, which felt even emptier with Lilly in India, I let myself fall onto my bed and resumed my crying.
Upon checking my call logs the next morning, I realized that I called a total of eight people while completely hysterical — including two people whose phones were off, and one number that I don’t even know or recognize.
That somewhat-minor incident aside, I really had a great week. Time out of school means time to socialize — and god knows I haven’t been doing any of that since I moved down to DC. But now I’m back in Philadelphia for a full two weeks, and I don’t think it’s ever felt better than this (even though I have a paper to write…fucking hell). Tents are being set up on what was formerly known as “College Green”; Commencement is one week away. I’m not sure how successful this week will be — in terms of productivity — but I’ll be damned if I don’t get to hang out with those wonderful friends of mine.
On Seemingly Unresourceful Kids Who Ask You for Answers to the Homework via Your Facebook Wall (and food)
Background information: You are a college sophomore and there is a grad student in one of your classes. You are on good terms with the grad student, whom you met in another class last semester. You have previously asked said grad student for answers to various homework assignments via his/her Facebook wall, and were told that not only it wasn’t wise to ask this type of question on Facebook, but you’re also never going to get an answer to your questions.
Situation: You have a homework assignment due Monday, and you can’t find the answer to one of the questions (“What does [foreign language phrase] mean?”). Do you:
a) try to translate it yourself to see where it takes you?
b) plug the sentence into some online translator to see where it takes you?
c) search online forums and the web in general to see what you find?
d) go to your grad student classmate’s Facebook profile and write on his/her wall, asking for the answer?
I don’t know what to do with this kid. I’m not sure how many times I have to write him back telling him that I’m not going to give him the answer, and I honestly don’t understand why he thinks that I would even consider helping him. This isn’t me playing the grad student who thinks she’s better than undergrads here; the professor made it clear, both in class and on the syllabus, that this was meant to be individual work. Schools don’t fuck around with academic integrity. I don’t fuck around with academic integrity. And I don’t care that it’s not like cheating on an exam; I don’t care that asking for the answer to a homework assignment is seemingly harmless. The point is that rules are rules, and this is an assignment that we have to hand in. Furthermore, I am a grad student after all, which means that we are NOT on the same level academically. I’m enrolled in a one-year program with which I am less than happy; you think I’m gonna risk my ass to help you with one little question? You must be outside your mind.
Okay, never mind that he was stupid enough to ask me AGAIN on my Facebook wall, AGAIN. Does he think, does he really think that I am stupid?
His message says that he looked up the phrase online and found nothing, which I had trouble believing because it’s a very common French phrase and, chances are, the translation is everywhere to be found. Open a dictionary. Go to wordreference[dot]com. I’m sure you’re not the first one to wonder what the fuck that phrase means.
So, since I didn’t believe that the answer was nowhere to be found online, I went to WR and searched for it. Two words. Didn’t even use quotation marks. Guess what I found.
Precisely ONE thread about what that exact phrase meant. Guess who started the thread.
Him. Nothing told me explicitly that it was he who asked the question, but the poster’s handle happens to be his name in French (coincidence? keep reading). I logged on so I could see said poster’s history, just to take a look at the threads that he started. Interestingly, one of the threads pertained to an expression that showed up on one of our assignments last semester — and guess when that thread was posted? GASP!!!!! LAST SEMESTER!!!!!!!!!!!
And guess what else I just found? Another thread about something else pertaining to this homework assignment! Started a few days ago!
Ok y’all, that’s just too much. There’s no way this is all coincidental. And it’s not like he started that thread because I didn’t give him the answer — no no no. The thread was started last night, someone provided him with the answer last night, and he wrote on my wall about two hours ago.
My conclusion: he asked me because he wants to confirm the answer he got on the forum.
Ain’t gonna happen. And I hate it when people beat around the fucking bush. It’s always, “Hey, how are you? How’s your weekend? OHBYTHEWAYIWANTTHEANSWERTOTHISQUESTION kthxbye.”
?? Don’t be an asshole.
Action to be taken on my part: None, except write about it. I won’t bother tagging his wall and telling him again that I won’t give him the answer blah blah blah. I’m sure he’ll get the point if he doesn’t hear from me, and, if not, he’ll just ask me why I didn’t answer when he sees me on Monday. And then I’ll tell him.
Or maybe I’ll just look at him and ask, “Are you fucking serious?”
I’m happy to announce that my mom is doing just fine. I headed back to Philadelphia on Thursday afternoon to go to the hospital with her on Friday morning. The additional tests that the doctor wanted to perform were another mammogram and an ultrasound. Everything is fine, it was just a scare (and a waste of our time). But a stitch in time saves nine, right? All things considered, it was a good weekend. It was nice to be home and spend time with her, without having work bugging me the entire time (I had cancelled my DSL in Philly and so didn’t take my laptop with me).
The ride from DC to Philly was pretty smooth; the bus left Chinatown around 4:15pm, and, since it was a Thursday, it wasn’t crowded. I managed to hit Union Station after class to pick up some Neuhaus chocolate. Luckily there was a sale, so getting three boxes didn’t ruin me (one for my mom, one for our neighbor Bev, and one for my aunt and uncle).
On my way down to the Metro, I picked up a generous sample of shea butter hand cream, which made my hands quite slippery for a while.
I watched the sun set and the cotton candy clouds go by. Violet sky. There really isn’t much in this world that can rival the sky — an ever-changing scene, a classic beauty. Calm, serene, light, jolly, dark, lonesome, stormy… Universal, infinite. I love it. When the sun is a glowing orange candy and all you want to do is taste it…
My lotioned hands smelled like cookies. I fell asleep, probably at the same time as the sun, and woke up a bit disoriented.
Kind of like today. It took me a while to remember that today was Saturday. I meant to step outside for just a moment, to breathe some non-apartment air, but it didn’t happen. Instead, I sat here all day doing homework and workwork. At least there’s still food in the fridge.
When I came back from Philly, I saw that the chocolate capuccino spread had been replaced by a jar of crunchy hazelnut chocolate spread. Sounds even tastier than just hazelnut chocolate spread, doesn’t it? Well, it tastes just like a Ferrero Rocher (which used to be called “Ferrero Roche d’Or” in France, by the way). As of my departure on Thursday the 19th, I had consumed about half of the chocolate capuccino spread, which I bought a mere three days earlier. I’m not sure what happened to it, but I’m glad Crunchy Hazelnut Chocolate Spread is here.
On a semi-related note, I bought bananas on Tuesday night — they were being brought out of boxes, nice and green. Today they’re green and yellow, but definitely ripe — too ripe for my taste, actually. I wonder why they’re still green.
Tastes change. I never thought much of tofu until a few months ago, and now I’m crazy about it. Despite what many people say, tofu does have a taste — and don’t ask me what it tastes like, because I’m just gonna tell you that it tastes like tofu. I love the way it absorbs whatever flavor is around it. And it’s so versatile.
I like making a beet-corn-mushroom-tofu salad. Add balsamic vinegar, olive oil, some salt, pepper, and a bit of sugar.
Tonight I made angel hair pasta with garlic and basil tomato sauce, sliced mushrooms, and diced tofu. Mmmm…
I noticed that if I eat a lot for dinner, I get really, REALLY painfully hungry the next day. I wonder why.
and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.
We live in a world of savages — or, at the very least, my mother lives in a city of savages. The crime rate in Philadelphia is going up. Wake up, people! I remember when in the winter there were talks of lower crime rates; I bet now everyone’s wondering what the hell happened.
I’ll tell you what happened: the winter ended.
Criminals are like roaches: when it’s cold out, they stay indoors; when it’s warm out, you can find them all over the streets.
I’m really sick and tired of what’s happening currently. Have we no respect? Have we so little shame that we’d go so far as raping and murdering an 84-year-old woman, beating and robbing an 83-year-old man? What the shit is this world coming to?
I want to know what the fuck goes through these people’s hollow heads. Wind? Because it’s certainly not reason.
COWARDS. You really have to be a fucking coward who’s got nothing better to do (certainly no job in sight) than gather up two of your friends to beat on a senior citizen. And rob him, adding insult to injury. Though I’m not really quite sure if their intent was, from the very beginning, to rob him. They got away with something like $50. FIFTYmotherfuckingDOLLARS. Are you fucking shitting me?
Really? Fifty fucking bucks? Split amongst three people or are two of them the third one’s bitches? Because, frankly, either way you look at it, $50 won’t get you very far nowadays.
And then, on a larger scale, bombs are going off in India, trains are colliding in L.A., passenger planes are crashing in Russia, we’re a total hurricane magnet and China’s still fucking with everyone’s consumables.
It’s time you all start praying to your respective gods.
I’m almost wishing the flicking of the switch on September 10 had killed us all. If you’re gonna end this world, make it quick and painless — or at least make it so that we all go at the same time.