Sunday, January 27, 2008
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK (ten minutes later) KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
Me, opening the door: "Hi male neighbor 1. Why are you waking me up at the ungodly hour of nine in the morning?"
Him: "My roommate, male neighbor 2, told me his boss wants a second interview with you this morning, and suggested I come to wake you up since you didn't seem to be answering your phone."
Me, already planning the quickest route to the shower: "My phone didn't ring, but thanks for the info. Goodbye."
An hour and a half later I walked out of the interview that got me my first job out of college. Huzzah for that persistent knocker, male neighbor 1!
The second occasion was a little more bizarre. During a well-earned nap on Saturday, I was surprised to notice that the bottoms of my feet were very cold. Then I realized that I was standing on the tile at the front door, with my friend Tyler the chef standing there, trying to talk to me. I had apparently responded to his knocking by getting off the couch and opening the door without actually waking up enough to hold a conversation. I think he told me something about a football game that we'd won, and then graciously left me when he realized he was talking to a sleepwalker. I'm still not sure why he came in the first place.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Today while riding my bike down the river, I passed a woman in her late forties, in some sort of black-with-patches-of-tie-dye, long-sleeved, shortish dress thing with black leggings and a light green beret/turban thing, rollerblading along the path in a stylish manner.
Oh! And I have one of the coolest friends ever! She's only a freshman, but she's leaps and bounds beyond me. She has style! She has this amazing yellow jacket that she wears with cute grey skirts and tights! Purple tights! Yellow tights! Red shoes! Carrie is too cool for words, and I got to have a cupcake with her today.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
I would spend one weekend per month, and then one month in the summer, somewhere else. Somewhere pleasant, like Ireland or Mexico City or the Adriatic.
I would always have Oreo cookies in the house, and I would buy high-quality peanut butter, shampoo, and sour cream.
I would decorate my house with vinyl wall stickers and brightly colored paint, matching endtables, fancy ottomans and couches without rips in the fabric.
Bookshelves. The pottery barn kind that's like a wall of cubes, and the kind that's like leany shelves. The house would never be cluttered because there would always be an empty space to put things.
I imagine that if I were immensely rich, I would end up buying many pairs of nice jeans, and many shirts of the same kind in a rainbow of colors. I would always wear the same outfit, in varying hues.
I would buy a puppy. An expensive puppy from the puppy store in the mall, where they're all cute and furry. I would hire someone else to take care of the messes the puppy would inevitably make.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
I have good friends. They seem to like me, and they talk to me in the hallway, etc. They even invite me to parties! This seems like a friendly sort of thing to do, to invite people you like to your home and feed them things along with all the other people that you like. Somehow, though, it just doesn't end up being fun for me. I really appreciate that people think of me, but I'm beginning to wish that they'd just stop inviting me. The stress of being around that many people that I don't know, and being expected to talk to them when I really don't care to, kind of tires me out. Then I feel guilty for not standing in the middle of the room or talking to anyone, because that makes other people uncomfortable. Because, see, they think that standing next to the wall is not good for me, that it means I'm not having fun. But really, leaning on the wall is more fun for me than partaking in the conversation. Some people just aren't meant for this kind of socializing. I suppose that what I am trying to say is, you need to go read this article, because I am an introvert.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
The beginning was questionable and a little scary. Visions of runny egg and potato dripping onto the floor danced through my head as I prepared for the flip.
After the surprisingly easy flip, during which nothing dripped anywhere it wasn't supposed to, things began to look up. Except I had already slightly overcooked side one in fear of insufficient coagulation.
The second side went so much faster than the first, a mere 4 minutes compared to the previous... nearly 15. The second side was therefore not burnt. The end result was very tasty and kind of pretty, with lovely little surprise caramelized onions at the surface every once in a while.
This dish is definately a repeat, as it tastes incredible and costs next to nothing to make (it comes out to about a dollar per person). Things I would do differently next time: get a sous chef, or a mandoline. The potatoes take forever to slice by yourself. Also try not to get fresh garlic under my fingernails, that kind of sucks later on when drinking smoothies for dessert. I think maybe next time I'll try not peeling the potatoes, that seemed to take a long time and I don't see any problem with leaving the skins on. While it didn't call for it in the recipe, my roommate who has experience with authentic tortillas questioned whether there should be cheese. It wouldn't hurt to try next time, authentic or not.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
1. In 2007 I graduated with a bachelor's degree, taking several tough, upper-level courses, my first community college course, and a few courses that were just for me. I took my first self-planned vacation with my roommate, and went through the work of moving into and creating a space in a new home, again. I taught myself to floss, and did so with great consistency. If I can use that same motivation to create new daily habits this year, I can become wonderful. I watched as many friends around me found love and got married, but in general I have not been down about that the way I could have been. 2007 was a year of endings and beginnings, a year of change.
2. What is there to grieve about 2007? I grieve my time as a student, the fact that I no longer have the title and purpose that I've had for so much of my life. It was hard to get myself motivated to prepare for what was around the corner. I forgive myself for allowing fear to paralyze me, that rather than either enjoying my final months or working at finding a job before graduation, I simply worried and did nothing. Worrying did nothing but stress me out and give me this twitch in my left eye, even though this current time of unemployment is giving me the opportunity to organize my life, decide what is truly important to me, and make my home a place of peace and cleanliness.
3. The year taught me that it is possible for me to form good habits as well as to break less desirable ones, that it is alright to get rid of things to make my life more streamlined, whether those things be old clothes, extraneous activities, or unnecessary relationships.
I declare 2007 complete!
My primary focus for 2008 will be to continue to purge my life of clutter, be it of a physical, temporal, or mental nature. I intend to strip my life down to the essentials, to take care of the necessary parts of life and let the other things fall to the side. To begin fresh, and gradually build up the good in my life, to have quiet time each day and to know there is time to spare. 2008 is my year of priority.
(Thanks to Andrea of Superhero Designs and her wonderful prompt found here.)
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
As yet I haven't made any new year's resolutions, except for one with my roommate that has nothing to do with keeping our kitchen organized and clean. I can't remember the specifics of the ones I made last year, but since I can't remember them, I like to believe that it's because I completed them so well that they are no longer things that need improvement in my life.
Here's a toast to you in the new year, to health and happiness and clean kitchens.