Category: Photos
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Room to Breathe
Featuring my new room after four loads in the coupe, five in the dumbwaiter and an uncountable number of trips up and down Safford’s six sets of six stairs. After moving on Tuesday, without a drop of coffee or even edible sustenance, I was so sore that I put sheets down on the bed in the middle of the room and took a nap. Things are slightly more re-arranged now, but I am no less caffeine-stricken!
There is a punchbowl sized coffee cup on display in Rao’s. I would need to fill it with espresso and slurp it through a straw once a day to make up for all the coffee I’ve missed this week and replenish the caffeine in my system enough to soothe my stubborn headache. Oh, addiction.
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In The Park
Just this week I have had a picnic in the park and celebrated my half-birthday and won a word game via snail mail. Still time for summer whimsy.
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Revenge Could Never Be As Sweet As My Dog
To Maggie,
At the very end of our walks, I am usually far more forgiving about your incessant need to stop and individually sniff every blade of grass that may have been tread upon by another canine because I know you’re getting in ‘last sniffs’ before we get home. But yesterday, when you paused at the corner, I yanked your leash. Even as I did it I felt terrible because as we were strolling along, I had let myself ruminate on a person who has betrayed me and that yank was exerted with the force of my wishful retaliation. If I had punctuated that sudden jerk of your leash with a word, it would have been this person’s name and it would have sounded like I was growling it while punching this person in the stomach.
But even though I interrupted your sniffing, you followed so obediently and looked at me with woeful eyes that said, “I’m sorry, you’re right, let’s hurry back home where I will share my liver treats with you and protect you from any friend who turns on you ever again.” And ten seconds later, when I stopped to shake a pebble out of my shoe, you sat patiently, gazing back over your shoulder as if to say, “take your time, I’m ready when you are,” even though I really would have deserved it if you had kept right on walking, pulling me over as I tried to balance on one foot with the other sneaker in my hand.
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I Don’t Like Carrots
If you can judge how someone loves you based on whether or not they know how you like your eggs, then I say the same goes for fruit and vegetable consumption habits. For a certain someone, I am willing to go to any lengths to prepare a fruit or veggie so that it satisfies even the most particular eaters.
To me, the bundles of cream colored seeds that sprinkle themselves everywhere when you cut open a bell pepper are pretty harmless. I run the pepper under the tap, filling it like a cup and then pouring it out (I have yet to attempt drinking the pepper water), washing most of the seeds down the drain. The ones that cling to the striated walls inside don’t bother me. But my mom will rinse each individual slice of pepper clean of seeds before she’ll eat it.
And it was as if the boys I took care of last Spring had never seen a whole apple in a dining context. They recognized the traditional contents of a Thanksgiving cornucopia. The teacher’s desk on the first day of school motif was also familiar. But they liked their apples sliced as thin as crackers and left untouched any pieces without a smooth crescent whittled away from the core.
Strawberries, too, were inedible in their natural state. Though Brian was always impressed by abnormally large or mutant specimens, it was off with their heads before he would indulge. It seemed a little sad to cut away every tuft of leaves, nature’s version of a popsicle stick.
I don’t think I’m picky, but a banana is that much more appetizing when the bitter strings are pulled away, and I’ve never met a carrot I was crazy about. As for my eggs, I prefer french toast.
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Grill Lines
Feeling guilty for eating absolutely nothing festive yesterday, I was determined to grill vegetable kebabs for dinner last night. I used sliced zucchini and summer squash, chopped red and green peppers (capsicum, as they say in New Zealand), wedges of onion, and mushrooms to cap off the end of each skewer. Don’t cut any of the pieces too small, or they’ll dangle off the skewer and right into the fiery depths of the grill! I envision orange or yellow peppers and maybe some eggplant in the mix for future attempts at colorful and symmetrical patterns. It’s all about the marinade. Well, it’s about fresh veggies grilled over charcoal, but the marinade is runner up.
Marinade:
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon paprika
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/8 teaspoon ground red pepper
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
2 tablespoons water
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 1/2 teaspoons honey
2 cloves garlic, minced
Salt, to tasteBrush it on to both sides of each skewer and grill ’em for 3-5 minutes on each side, or until they’re lightly browned, tender and you see those grill lines. Here are ours right after they hit the grill.
“When somebody loves you, it’s no good unless he loves you all the way” – Sinatra
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Something Feels Peculiar
Something feels peculiar. A New England orchard-esque honeysuckle breeze is coming through my open window, accompanied by the sound of fireworks rumbling in the neighborhood. I can’t put my finger on it but – oh! Could it be? That breeze isn’t just New England-esque, it’s an authentic zephyr from the Brewster farm down the road. And best of all, the fireworks are a local celebration of Independence Day (being back in the US has given me a booster shot of nationalism). Finally coming home is starting to feel less peculiar.
Blogging feels a little unusual, too. Burnout comes from having too much too say and none of the right words. Have I just run out of words? It feels like my vocabulary is strung on a jangling charm bracelet instead of strung into cohesive sentences. It’s cute, it’s flirty, it’s charming, but it’s not at all a practical accessory. The tip of my tongue is weighed down with words that just won’t hop out and I’m shuffling along on thesaurus.com to get by. Note to self: Stop concerning yourself with which words look best together. Write for the aesthetics of the mind.
Driving on the right side (the correct side) of the road felt far too peculiar at first. Mom had to remind me twice not to veer toward the left curb in the parking lot, and after that I left Will drive me to and from the mall until my internal road compass (I think it’s kept in one of those inner ear channels responsible for equilibrium) righted itself. It was stuck on the left from driving our rented Corolla on the South Island for Spring Break.
Quote of the day: “Without you here, there is less to say” – Colin Hay
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First Snow
Out my window
Posted by HelloYesterday at lunch, Joe told me to put on some real shoes, or my “piggies” would fall off. I said, “it’s not like it’s snowing yet, it’s still flip-flop season.” Last night I had to slip home from the libary through an inch of ice and powder. No traction!
Quote of the day: “She couldn’t help thinkin’that there was a little more to life somewhere else. After all it was a great big world, with lots of places to run to” – Petty and the Heartbreakers
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Thanksgiving Diz-ay
Title inspired by ::chicka chicka:: Robby Stanley, who finished his grace at Holly’s Thanksgiving dinner table with “Amen on this lovely Thanksgivin’ Diz-ay.”
My Thanksgiving dinner was far less eventful, but it was nice to be home for the holidays instead of a minor surgical procedure. Of course, I had the annual “Big Thanksgiving Decision” to make. Freshman year it was “Roommate Homicide or Suicide?” Sophomore year it was “To De-Transfer to Mount Holyoke or Not/Semester Off?” This year it was “University College London or Victoria University Wellington, New Zealand?” It all started with everyone telling me that I would never get into UCL and I was so afraid that I wouldn’t get to go anywhere, so when Holly said, almost kidding, “You should just apply to New Zealand and come with me,” I decided I might as well.
By then, I was accepting the idea of not going to London and getting excited about this new adventure in my future. Which is why I was extra shocked when the rep from the Butler program called to tell me that “Sometimes the universe goes awry and even I have been known to be wrong, you did get into UCL.” Bring on the internal conflict. How do you compare London and New Zealand? Well, you don’t. In the end, instincts and logistics all pointed to Victoria, so pending acceptance (which is said to be gauranteed if my GPA is +2.7!), I will be leaving for Wellington, New Zealand in Febryary, 2005.
I’m sort of sad about London. I have to get used to not feeling like I’m missing out or like I’m breaking from the timeless English major in the UK mold. I’m also still sort of revelling in the fact that UCL accepted my application even though my GPA was short a few tenths-of-points. Was it a fluke? My advisors seem to think so. But what have I learned in the last year? Not everything is a promise, not everything is a sign. I have a habit of believing that words or events or flukes all mean something, but I’m trying to remember that even though things happen for a reason, individuals are also responsible for their own choices and all I can do is follow whatever path I can forge for myself. And if that path is leading me down under, well, who am I to resist?
On Friday I babysat for the Cass’s (as documented below) and on Saturday, Lauren and I hung out in Dunkin’ Donuts discussing the finer points of ghetto-speak, a metalanguage of middle Ridgefield, as ccollette might say. And tonight I’m back at school, working on homework in the library, with a job at the Gap (back again!) over J-Term and a new found appreciation for oversized My Little Ponies.
Me and my grumpy honey monkey girl
Posted by HelloQuote of the day: “But the day came when you were standing by the ocean, and I found the courage to stand next to you, I remembered the dream, where you were the angel” – Rebecca Riots
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Just Because I Can
Remember three days ago when I couldn’t satisfy my urge to blow kisses at everyone via the Internet (or is it just internet now? Depends on who you talk to.). Mwah! There’s nothing like a new toy to inspire blogging even after a seemingly endless dry spell. Here I am after cleaning my whole room, top to bottom, for Family & Friends weekend.
friday kisses
Posted by HelloI called home to ask for lots of batteries, because they are expensive and my Discman is dead, and my brother answered the phone with “Hey, I have a quick question.” Wait just one second now, I called you! He’s like, “Yeah, I know,” but didn’t seem to think it odd that I called and he got to ask his favor first. Typical!
Quote of the day: “You arrive and the night is alive, yeah, you are a shining light. Yeah, you light up my life.” – Ash
