I am now the proud owner of Mexican oregano. Or, as a friend of mine likes to call it, Mexican "oregano."

Soup

One of the best things about cooking is that I am always discovering new things. For instance, how incredibly easy soup is to make. Sure, peeling all those vegetables takes some time, but there's nothing horribly difficult about it. No strange "only stir for five minutes" or "change pans at least three times" complications. Lately I have been making different kinds of vegetable soup. It's cheap, hot, and healthy (Ramen only fits two of those criteria). I was even able to use up a tomato I didn't know what to do with. It was great on a sandwich but it was really huge so I still had a lot to eat in a short time. I hear that canned tomatoes work just as well though. Another thing I'd like to try is different spice combinations. Currently my spice collection consists of cinnamon and Garlic salt. I should at least have some basil or oregano. Oh, and I definitely want to eat spaghetti next week. Or how would spaghetti sauce taste in a soup (the answer is, it has been tried before)? Or chili? There are so many possibilities that I can try without having an extensive knowledge of chemistry.

I feel like I don't want to tell you about my life. I've returned to this blank blog page again and again, and I can't think of anything I want to share. Selfish me.

My old room

I've been home for a brief break in between the end of summer term and the end of my contract, and I've been staying in my room. The shelves full of books and the pictures on the wall bring back old memories, and the whole room seems like a shrine to my childhood self. Part of me really misses having my own room and a 2nd-story window overlooking a hill full of trees. I look at my old copy of the Aeneid in Latin and wonder how I ever pretended to translate it. My beanie babies on the shelves remind me of how I used to act out plays with them all as characters. They represented different people in my life... I'm a little concerned because the one that represented me is missing. It's like I'm not a part of their group anymore. I'm a stranger in my own room.

They are the same!

This is an announcement: I am not crazy. The melody in the Gorillaz's "Feel Good Inc." is almost identical to the part in No Doubt's "Comforting Lie" where she sings "I am Jekyll I am Hyde." And you know who came first? No Doubt. I wonder if it's a small enough similarity to be legal. (The part about not being crazy is where my roommate didn't believe me while I searched frantically, remembered the tune, but not the lyrics.)

google chat conversation as poetry

I can tell you a story about something disguisting I ate

remember how I bought that Rice Roni?
I bought it because it had the Golden Gate Bridge on the box.

ah, yes?

well I fixed it tonight

it said to saute the rice and vermicelli

so I did

then I was supposed to put in some water

and I almost burned myself

with all the steam

when it was finally done I was really hungry

but it was so salty

and the vegetables were dubiously real

and not very present

I ate half a bowl while watching TV

(and I can eat some pretty gross things while watching TV)

and I couldn't take anymore

it was an insult to my tastebuds

I should throw out the rest

No Dark Sarcasm in the Classroom

Suddenly all of my bark has been biting me. That is to say, all the research I have been involved in is suddenly asking me to do things other than attend meetings. This has caused me a little stress over the week, stress that induced me to make some lemon curd today and work 7 hours at work (as you can see I have great procrastination abilities). I'm also worried about my performance in a certain essay-intensive class. The thing is, I hate editing my writing, and I like getting things right on the first or second try. Lack of editing and overfaith in my sheer brilliance have led to some dull grades on essays, and I hope I don't make the same mistakes again.

I started Hofstadter's new book I Am A Strange Loop last weekend. It's great. Possibly more accessible than GEB, but not quite as funny.

Do you ever start thinking about life and think that it's all a charade? I became disillusioned with the music world when I discovered that politics play more of a role than skill at times. I didn't think psychology would similarly disillusion me. I feel so powerless to change anything in the world of psychology, let alone the world at large. I often feel like just another brick in the wall. Like it isn't worth it to actually think things out because it will only make me more unhappy later on if I see others with differing opinions.

Short

I bought new shoelaces yesterday. It was quite exciting. I also bought a pair of men's shorts that was on sale, and I can see why. No self-respecting man would wear these shorts. First, they are grey-black suede. If a man has suede something or other, it's probably going to be a wallet, or perhaps a jacket. Not shorts. The shorts are also impractical. There is no button-zipper mechanism, but only a strip of velcro (I can only imagine what difficulty this presents for the standing-up fashion of relief). To make matters worse, there is only one side pocket, and a lacey shoelace to mask the velcro. Don't you just love ugly clothes?

Hospital

Q: What do you call a psychotherapist who says that the far side of the moon is responsible for your primative urges?

A: A Neo-Floydian


So my adventures continue. On the fourth of July I was watching the fireworks from right behind the stadium, and unfortunately, I caught a burning ember with my eye. I had to go to the doctor's to get the ember out, and then see an ophthalmologist to determine that yes, there was nothing else in my eye, but it appears to be burned.

The ophthalmologist had a curious instrument, full of mirrors, lights, and lenses. I guess it could have been a phoropter, I should have asked. I wonder what my cornea looks like. I secretly like going to the doctor. I like waiting in the room and looking at all the bottles on the shelves and wondering what is in the drawers (after I've been to an office a few times, I usually garner enough courage to open the drawers and gaze at long, slender, stainless steel instruments). I like looking at other patients in waiting rooms and guessing what they're in for. Sometimes it's fun to look at the old magazines in the waiting rooms and see which articles are the most-thumbed. I'll bet the nurses have secret codes for things too.

Summer and school... great

As depressing as my work is sometimes, I try hard to make it funny. Unfortunately making fun of suffering people usually makes me look callous.

I don't really like my classes so far. They're at awkward times in the days and my teachers aren't super amazing or anything. Sometimes I still get frustrated that so many people have studied the art of teaching and how to teach in such a way as to make learning quicker and easier, and yet rarely do teachers actually use all this knowledge. I myself am guilty of this, which makes it all the more frustrating. I don't know why I'm taking classes this term, I should have taken some time off to just read books and study for the GRE. I'm tired of always having to be somewhere.

It's not really that bad of a life and I don't mind it. For one, I'm ungrateful. For two, listening to a lot of the same arguments is getting old. I should be more patient.

I was making a wishlist the other day. A very impractical one. It includes a lab coat, a typewriter (one of those classy manual ones), bowling shoes, and classic novels I have not yet read or purchased. Buying more books is problematic, because I already have six or seven books I still haven't read. Sometimes the acquiring of an object is more fun than actually using it though. I should explain the lab coat too. I pass them every time I walk through the book store. I think it would be hilarious sometime to show up to psychology research meetings in a lab coat. Maybe I could put cool things in the pockets, like... pencils for filling out questionnaires, rat chow, mini inkblot cards, and a pocket watch for hypnosis (kidding... there are better ways).

A pocket watch has long been an object of slight coveting for me (check out this baby). My $7 Target watch finally broke. Well it was just the straps, so I've been carrying around the actual clock portion like a pocket watch. Sometimes it's more convenient than a wristwatch, but a lot easier to lose. If you put a watch on your desk, it doesn't look as rude to the professor when you check the time. Pocket watches are also loads classier than wristwatches, although I've seen some nice wristwatches in my lifetime.

To complete the victorian entourage that comes with typewriters and pocket watches (or did they have typewriters back then), I would probably also have to have a nice pen and an inkwell to go with it, and perhaps some stationary so I could sit a write letters all day by candlelight. Sounds terribly boring, doesn't it? Gears are just so much nicer than batteries, I say. They should make an mp3 player that you can crank instead of putting batteries in it.

Care

Lately I've taken to appearing not to care about my studies. Someone will ask, "Aren't you worried about all your assignments that are due?" And I'll reply, "I'll worry about it when it comes up." The thing is, I really do care about my classes, but I wish I didn't care so much. Discontent with one's accomplishments can be a blessing though. While it prevents me from enjoying some of my free time, it also prevents me from wasting much of that time. At the very least, appearing as though I don't care will instill in others either contempt, a sense of awe, or help them feel calmer about their own studies.

Oh, summer term, you are so close. With your eager, just-graduated freshmen and your workaholic, no-nonsense seniors... teachers who are wearing shorts and cut the hard parts out of the syllabus. EFers running all around, and the hot sun beating on your back. Running through sprinklers on midnight strolls in the dark heat. Laying on the couch with ice in your mouth because the heat can't be beat. Ahh...

Privileged

Now that my honors thesis proposal has finally been approved, I get to check out books from the HBLL for 13 weeks at a time instead of 3. It was so worth it (granted, I'll be checking out more books like Watership Down, but hey, it always takes me more than 3 weeks to get started on these things).

Bass

How people interact is quite fascinating, because it's only predictable within a large behavior set.

You know, I feel incredibly blessed. I've been able to learn from a lot of people in my life (and a lot of books too, come to think of it).

So, me and the bass boost option have been at odds for some time. I refused to use bass boost because, well, that was artificially making the bass more prominent, and that means the music is not the same. Well, it turns out that the threshold for hearing low notes occurs at a higher volume than for mid and high notes. I knew this before, but it came up in one of my classes. So basically, if you're listening to a CD player at a low volume, you need bass boost to even hear those notes. Now I use bass boost, and I have no qualms about it. Yay!

Hot Dog!

I think the title is sufficient explanation.

Hot Plates

Hot plates are undoubtedly very useful. Not only can they be used as a scientific heating device, but they make stove top cooking more portable and convenient than a microwave. I imagine that, had I a hot plate, I could enjoy freshly warmed chili during class by strategically sitting near an outlet. I could warm my hands rapidly on a chilly day, and I could have a space heater for my room. Just think of all the possibilities. I bet you want one too.

Today I ate a combination of foodstuffs that managed to satiate me before it disappeared. It consisted of a baked potato, rice, and chili. And some tortilla chips.

Muse

Confession: I really like the band Muse. They are performing a concert at the UVSC auditorium in September. Does anyone want to take me? I will pay for my own ticket! Please comment or send me an email. I'd really like to go!

complaints

why did I eat a whole bag of kettle korn
now I feel fat

one debt I do not mind working to pay
is a sleep debt
unless I have midterms

why is there television online
there is a reason I don't have a TV

toothpastefordinner
makes me want to write dumb things
so I can giggle at them

Groceries

I went to work for over four hours today. That's not too bad, but I hadn't worked that long before. I kind of felt like this:

toothpastefordinner.com


So in other news... I think I am not eating enough vegetables because I'm getting dark spots under my eyes. I've heard that such things can be caused by vitamin K or iron deficiencies. I pretty much just eat grain and dairy... so I should probably learn how to cook meat or something. I was thinking of getting some meat today but I find the meat sections of stores really intimidating, not to mention that meat is a heck of a lot more expensive than bread. Today feels like Saturday. That's kind of cool because it will be like I have two Saturdays in one week.

I've been checking out lots of CDs from the music library. It makes me feel cultured. I went shopping today with my own grocery cart for the first time. Food is really expensive. Especially when you buy fancy things like a potato masher. I went when I was really hungry and I was really proud of myself for limiting my purchase to under thirty dollars (so I made more than I spent today, yay!). I did buy a piece of chocolate cake for $0.75 though. I felt justified because it was on the clearance rack. Hopefully it doesn't taste too much more worse than it looks. I think it has a gold leaf on it too. I'm excited to see if that's edible.

One thing I am really scared of is running out of milk. I think I drink a gallon in a little less than a week. That means my grocery day would have to be staggered, or I would have to go through periods of overlap between gallons. The other day I was at work and one of the... erm... grown-ups at work saw me in the hall and made me drink the rest of the milk she had brought with her. It was really good. They have their own milkman deliver milk every week. I didn't even know milkmen existed anymore. That made me happy. Also, toothpastefordinner makes me happy. I want to pace myself so I don't rid myself of all the novelty of the archives at once. It also makes me want to start my own webcomic, although I know that it wouldn't support my eating habit. *sigh*

Secret Room

Felicity had a mansion to herself. It had many rooms, which she enjoyed exploring. Even limiting herself to the west wing, she was occupied for many days. Some rooms had extravagant tapestries and pictures in them. Others were somewhat bare. She had a hard time staying in either kind of room. She wasn't very expensive or plain herself. One day she came upon a room that was different from the others. It was in the corner, and the windows were covered with heavy drapes. For a while she had to use a candle in the room. The ceiling wasn't too high or low, and the chairs were not too soft or hard. Goldilocks would have liked this room. She didn't consider it her favorite though. She liked the ballroom and the billiards room. Despite her lack of outward preference for the room, she found that it appeared more often in her wanderings. It was so convenient that she started spending more and more time there. She figured out how to use the drapes and let some light in. She discovered that the room was much more delightful than she had at first thought. There were many books in the room, some of which she had read and enjoyed and others which she started reading and also enjoyed. The carpet was also a wonderful rich color which she hadn't noticed with just the candlelight. The chairs which at first had seemed a little unwelcoming were now the most comfortable in the mansion. She would stare at the pictures on the walls for hours. She was always reluctant to leave when she had to go to her bedroom for the night.

On a particularly sunny day, Felicity started closely examining the floor, which was made of wooden boards. She rolled back the carpet and started looking at the grain of the wood. It was a good grain, unexpected in such a room. One board stuck out to her. Yes, it was a loose board. It contained a box with a single pearl in it. She felt like it was the room's gift to her and she started carrying it with her in her pocket constantly. She didn't find anymore loose boards though, and eventually put the carpet back in its proper position (but with the smug knowledge that she knew it was hiding something).

She had not discovered all the room's secrets though. Next to one of the bookcases were two metal grooves. She had puzzled over this for several weeks when she realized their purpose. She pushed the bookcase and it rolled in the grooves. Behind it was a door. The door had a window in it, through which she could see another sunlit room. This room was in the tower on the corner, so its windows surrounded the room. It had a bed in it and some very interesting-looking books. She wanted very much to enter the room, but the lock held fast. She still spent much time in the room, searching for the key or just thinking about what it would be like to live in the secret room. She wrote to her father asking if he knew where the key was and if she could use the room. All he wrote was, "The room is not ready for you, and you are not ready for that room." Visiting the room became difficult yet exciting to her. Sometimes she would try to pick the lock, but without success. Eventually she was worried that she would try to break the door and thus ruin the room. Not wishing to mar her favorite room, she left it one day and nailed it shut. She really missed it, but she tried not to think about it. After a few weeks she wanted to check on the room to see how it was doing. She pulled the boards off the door and walked in. It was the same room, but she felt like she couldn't stay long. The shelves were a little dusty from being left alone so long. Without even rolling the bookcase over she knew the secret room was there, waiting for her. She left with a sigh and bolted the room. She walked back to her room feeling resigned, gripping the small pearl. Then she cried.

Update

So in the last week I quite literally had one of the crappiest days ever. Yes, I had stomach flu, and it affected my GI tract. I'm sorry if any of you had to hear about it.
I got my grades from winter semester. It was pretty much my worst semester for grades, but it really wasn't that bad, considering everything I was doing at the time and how much I procrastinated work for ALL of my classes. Classes for this term aren't extremely exciting. One of my classes goes for three hours straight twice a week. Hopefully I won't die of boredom. My conducting class should be good though. I feel like having taken it might make my callings a little more predictable.
So, I'm in my own place now, with [a writer who shall remain unnamed]. We party it up all the time. My brother comes over frequently and it's kind of fun to see him a little more. I like being a little more independent. Mostly I just like eating whatever I want, whenever I want, and not having to be home at a certain time for dinner or else incurring the wrath of someone. So... yeah. Also, Tangerine is in our ward. Fun times.