Last night was the Oscars. (Go Colin Firth. Woo.)
I took a frozen pizza and a bottle of Vendija blackberry wine over to Anna's, where she countered with a bigger bottle of wine, popcorn, and Easter cookies.
Abosy and I go through the same stages on the road to tipsy. (Talktalktalk, then suddenly, sleepy. Very suddenly. Yelena: ..Are you guys ok?)
That part's boring, though, so I'll skip it. Instead, the night's highlights:
Anna screaming when Colin Firth first shows up
Anna screaming and waving her arms when The King's Speech wins
Anna screaming and waving her arms when Colin Firth wins
Yelena recording her.
Me hurting my knee while scooting over on the couch (wtf?)
Anna: (about commercial) "OH that's great! They just lifted them up but it looks like they're flying!"
Me blowing off my homework and then having to do it at one o'clock when I got home
Me discovering that trains after wine makes for carsick tummy
Me also discovering that ramen does not, in fact, make it better
Yelena laughing maliciously as no-self-control Anna and Emma eat more cookies than they should.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Still
Emily is sick. I took advantage of her stuffy nose to eat my tuna helper sans complaints.
Today was a "gently falling snow" kind of day. It seemed last week that winter was making a puddly retreat, but it's come back slowly last night and all day today. I am beginning to feel as though I've been living in the cold for years.
During lunch I sauntered over to the new Utrecht (art supplies) location on Wabash for printing paper. They're having a "re-opening" piaza* with cookies, much, I imagine, to the vexation of Blick (other art supplies) one block down on State.
"Are you mainly a painting person or drawing?" asks the cashier.
"Um." I think maybe she is asking in regards to the paper. "Printmaking?"
"I don't think we have a bag for that," she says, so she gives me the "painting" bag: a canvas Utrecht shopping bag filled with useless promotional things. I get a few sample tubes of various paints, two 3-inch ruler keychains, and 7 erasers.
I handed them out to my class. Perhaps Utrecht thinks we make a lot of mistakes?
*If you're confused, I just made that word up.
Today was a "gently falling snow" kind of day. It seemed last week that winter was making a puddly retreat, but it's come back slowly last night and all day today. I am beginning to feel as though I've been living in the cold for years.
During lunch I sauntered over to the new Utrecht (art supplies) location on Wabash for printing paper. They're having a "re-opening" piaza* with cookies, much, I imagine, to the vexation of Blick (other art supplies) one block down on State.
"Are you mainly a painting person or drawing?" asks the cashier.
"Um." I think maybe she is asking in regards to the paper. "Printmaking?"
"I don't think we have a bag for that," she says, so she gives me the "painting" bag: a canvas Utrecht shopping bag filled with useless promotional things. I get a few sample tubes of various paints, two 3-inch ruler keychains, and 7 erasers.
I handed them out to my class. Perhaps Utrecht thinks we make a lot of mistakes?
*If you're confused, I just made that word up.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
From in-class writing
Tim is looking through his binoculars. The steady pitching of the boat disrupts his vision, and he asks to borrow my camera. My lens can’t zoom in as far, but we take the picture to study more steadily.
Our focus is on the base of the cliffs. The thick, striped bodies lined up along the ocean, dipping their rocky toes into the water. The drop from the top is a menacing distance. Something blue is caught there, between the rocky toes. It looks weak against the unyielding bodies of the cliffs.
Tim thinks it is a body. He tells me stories of jumpers, in statistics, and how there is a railing now, at the top. The statistics only went down a little. Sometimes the victim is involuntary.
“There was a bride once,” he says, “They were taking the wedding photos at the top. She wanted to look over the edge, so her husband held on to her as she leaned out. But he only held on to her coat, and she slipped out and fell down, and he was left holding an empty jacket.”
I am astonished by his cheerful manner.
Tim is zooming in on the picture. It gets grainy. I am convinced it is only garbage. I don’t want to see a human form under the blue splotch on the rocks.
The boat ambles past. Tim is looking through is binoculars again. I stare at the picture.
“I think it’s just garbage,” I say. “Like a plastic bag or something.”
Tim lowers his binoculars at last. “I guess so,” he says.
I am relieved. The boat carries us out of view.
Our focus is on the base of the cliffs. The thick, striped bodies lined up along the ocean, dipping their rocky toes into the water. The drop from the top is a menacing distance. Something blue is caught there, between the rocky toes. It looks weak against the unyielding bodies of the cliffs.
Tim thinks it is a body. He tells me stories of jumpers, in statistics, and how there is a railing now, at the top. The statistics only went down a little. Sometimes the victim is involuntary.
“There was a bride once,” he says, “They were taking the wedding photos at the top. She wanted to look over the edge, so her husband held on to her as she leaned out. But he only held on to her coat, and she slipped out and fell down, and he was left holding an empty jacket.”
I am astonished by his cheerful manner.
Tim is zooming in on the picture. It gets grainy. I am convinced it is only garbage. I don’t want to see a human form under the blue splotch on the rocks.
The boat ambles past. Tim is looking through is binoculars again. I stare at the picture.
“I think it’s just garbage,” I say. “Like a plastic bag or something.”
Tim lowers his binoculars at last. “I guess so,” he says.
I am relieved. The boat carries us out of view.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
(Why are Greenpeace shirts blue?)
Yesterday, I was on my way to class. I usually walk with my gaze down, which is good for noticing things on the sidewalk you may not want to step in. I turned the corner onto Michigan, and glanced up to make sure I wasn't about to run into anybody turning onto Adams. My path was blocked by a line of "caution: falling ice" signs, so I angled to the right to go around them before realizing that my doorway was coming up on the left, so at the last second I veered to the other side.
I didn't know I was being watched by a Greenpeace girl. "There's nothing to be afraid of," she said, which sort of startled me. "I'm just fpr Greenpeace. Just saving the earth."
She thought I'd changed directions to avoid her.
I didn't know I was being watched by a Greenpeace girl. "There's nothing to be afraid of," she said, which sort of startled me. "I'm just fpr Greenpeace. Just saving the earth."
She thought I'd changed directions to avoid her.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Moo.
Since becoming vegan so abruptly, Emily has left me with the task of finishing off all the dairy products in the fridge, the most daunting of which is, of course, the half-full gallon of milk.
Throwing milk away stinks a lot, and if you procrastinate on dumping it like I do, I mean that very literally. When I am the only one drinking the milk, I will buy the small cartons, but sometimes even those have half a cup or two left over days after the expiration.
I’m certain I’m not the only one out there who is plagued by this terrible, terrible reality. I still think having milk delivered in glass bottles to our doorstep will somehow solve everything, but some disagree with me. So how can one find (less exciting) ways to use up that last bit of milk before it goes bad?
The trick is, to bake with it. Once it’s been cooked, that milk is good for another few weeks. (Don’t try cooking your milk and then re-refrigerating it to drink again. I’m sure that will not have good results. …Actually, someone dumb and deserving should try this, and let me know how it goes.)
Recipes that call for milk will often require less than you need to use up. Here are my favorite from-scratch, I-need-to-get-rid-of-a-lot-of-milk recipes:
Cheese sauce (for mac & cheese): Dissolve corn starch into milk in microwavable container (about 1 tablespoon per 1 cup of milk will give you a nice, thick sauce). Microwave until sauce begins to thicken (it will start to rise up). Stir it a bit, then add grated cheese (the amount depends on how cheesy you want it, but you will need at least one cup) and stir. Pop it back in the microwave, and zap for another minute or so to melt the cheese and give the corn starch time to fully thick-ify.
Vanilla pudding: Similar beginning—corn starch in milk, milk in microwave. Instead of adding cheese, however, add sugar (1/2 cup per 1 cup milk), and microwave for several minutes after it’s thick to blast out that starchy taste. Let cool slightly before adding a teaspoon or so of vanilla.
Tapioca pudding: Follow the directions on the box, fool!
Rice pudding: This is also good for using up leftover rice. Mix equal parts rice and milk and sugar (half a cup or less) in a saucepan and cook at medium heat until thick. Beat an egg with a little more milk and add in. Cook another couple minutes and eat while it’s nice and warm.
Throwing milk away stinks a lot, and if you procrastinate on dumping it like I do, I mean that very literally. When I am the only one drinking the milk, I will buy the small cartons, but sometimes even those have half a cup or two left over days after the expiration.
I’m certain I’m not the only one out there who is plagued by this terrible, terrible reality. I still think having milk delivered in glass bottles to our doorstep will somehow solve everything, but some disagree with me. So how can one find (less exciting) ways to use up that last bit of milk before it goes bad?
The trick is, to bake with it. Once it’s been cooked, that milk is good for another few weeks. (Don’t try cooking your milk and then re-refrigerating it to drink again. I’m sure that will not have good results. …Actually, someone dumb and deserving should try this, and let me know how it goes.)
Recipes that call for milk will often require less than you need to use up. Here are my favorite from-scratch, I-need-to-get-rid-of-a-lot-of-milk recipes:
Cheese sauce (for mac & cheese): Dissolve corn starch into milk in microwavable container (about 1 tablespoon per 1 cup of milk will give you a nice, thick sauce). Microwave until sauce begins to thicken (it will start to rise up). Stir it a bit, then add grated cheese (the amount depends on how cheesy you want it, but you will need at least one cup) and stir. Pop it back in the microwave, and zap for another minute or so to melt the cheese and give the corn starch time to fully thick-ify.
Vanilla pudding: Similar beginning—corn starch in milk, milk in microwave. Instead of adding cheese, however, add sugar (1/2 cup per 1 cup milk), and microwave for several minutes after it’s thick to blast out that starchy taste. Let cool slightly before adding a teaspoon or so of vanilla.
Tapioca pudding: Follow the directions on the box, fool!
Rice pudding: This is also good for using up leftover rice. Mix equal parts rice and milk and sugar (half a cup or less) in a saucepan and cook at medium heat until thick. Beat an egg with a little more milk and add in. Cook another couple minutes and eat while it’s nice and warm.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
It's a Rabbity year
Happy Chinese New Year!
I realize the CNY was really on the 3rd, but that's when Snowmaggedon was raging, so celebrations were put off.
Yesterday was the school's festival, also known as free food event.
I made a bunny.
I realize the CNY was really on the 3rd, but that's when Snowmaggedon was raging, so celebrations were put off.
Yesterday was the school's festival, also known as free food event.
I made a bunny.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Snow, snow, snow.
When I went to class this morning, it was sunny. When I came out of class this afternoon, it was snowing.
I know-- more snow! This snow is not blizzard snow, however. It's the kind of snow that falls placidly; it feels like a moth's wings when it lands on your cheek; the kind of snow you'd normally find in a picturesque holiday scene.
I know-- more snow! This snow is not blizzard snow, however. It's the kind of snow that falls placidly; it feels like a moth's wings when it lands on your cheek; the kind of snow you'd normally find in a picturesque holiday scene.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
:'(
January 14th.
I’m not used to having to pay for heat. It distresses me. I am cold, so I turn on the heat; but I am poor, so I turn off the heat; but I am cold again.
I need a Snuggie. Please send.
I’m not used to having to pay for heat. It distresses me. I am cold, so I turn on the heat; but I am poor, so I turn off the heat; but I am cold again.
I need a Snuggie. Please send.
This post is from January 11th.
The other day I went to the dentist. The receptionist gave me a form to sign. It was for a filling.
I said, “What am I getting filled?”
She looked it up on my chart and showed me.
“Oh.” I said.
In hindsight, I should have said, “This seems unnecessary. The chips you are filling in have been there for as long as I can remember, and they’ve never bothered me.”
But all I said was “Oh.”
Dentists are renowned for having torturous looking instruments, but I never really feared my dentist until that day.
“I’m going to file down the edges a little bit first,” she told me. Her instrument said something closer to, “I’m going to puncture your skull and drain your brains out through the roof of your mouth.”
I’m not kidding. It was the most terrifying piece of equipment I’ve ever had the misfortune of putting near my face. It looked like a spike from a morning star. That spun at high velocities.
The thing was probably only about 4 centimeters long, which is piddly-sauce compared to the 4 inches the Novocain needle has, except something about the sharp taper made it seem more like to be found in a medieval torture chamber than a medical office.
Oh, and she didn’t end there. After the Spike of Doom, and after much cementing and scraping and UV-light blasting, there was some more S.O.D., and then the polisher, which I can only assume was a miniature version of something normally used to grind peoples’ faces off.
“How does everything feel?” She asked, “Any rough edges anywhere?” She held the Grinder poised and ready.
“Fine.” I said, hurriedly.
(To be true, it’s still a bit rough on the back side, but I’m not going to tell her that.)
I said, “What am I getting filled?”
She looked it up on my chart and showed me.
“Oh.” I said.
In hindsight, I should have said, “This seems unnecessary. The chips you are filling in have been there for as long as I can remember, and they’ve never bothered me.”
But all I said was “Oh.”
Dentists are renowned for having torturous looking instruments, but I never really feared my dentist until that day.
“I’m going to file down the edges a little bit first,” she told me. Her instrument said something closer to, “I’m going to puncture your skull and drain your brains out through the roof of your mouth.”
I’m not kidding. It was the most terrifying piece of equipment I’ve ever had the misfortune of putting near my face. It looked like a spike from a morning star. That spun at high velocities.
The thing was probably only about 4 centimeters long, which is piddly-sauce compared to the 4 inches the Novocain needle has, except something about the sharp taper made it seem more like to be found in a medieval torture chamber than a medical office.
Oh, and she didn’t end there. After the Spike of Doom, and after much cementing and scraping and UV-light blasting, there was some more S.O.D., and then the polisher, which I can only assume was a miniature version of something normally used to grind peoples’ faces off.
“How does everything feel?” She asked, “Any rough edges anywhere?” She held the Grinder poised and ready.
“Fine.” I said, hurriedly.
(To be true, it’s still a bit rough on the back side, but I’m not going to tell her that.)
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Blizzard
There are a few blizzards that I like. The tasty frozen drink, for instance, or the company that makes sadistically addictive MMOs. I do NOT, however, enjoy the kinds of blizzards that shut down Chicago for 2 days and strand me at home.
(Obviously, this hasn't happened yet, as I'm at school using the internet, but it will.)
The word on everyone's lips the past few days has been this storm. Last night, as I went from class to Walgreens to stock up on some very important blizzard rations (chips.. mac&cheese..sandwiches..), the snow was starting to fall. It was just barely sticking, but the wind threw it like icicles into my eyes, while blowing graceful swirls and curlicues around my feet. Not fair, wind, not fair.
By the time I got home it was close to an inch thick.
It's not snowing right now, but the big momma is supposed to hit tonight. Most things are closing early today, and won't be open tomorrow. The last time the CTA stopped running was back in '79..
"I like how we've been through a hurricane and a blizzard in the past 2 months." Emily says.
(Obviously, this hasn't happened yet, as I'm at school using the internet, but it will.)
The word on everyone's lips the past few days has been this storm. Last night, as I went from class to Walgreens to stock up on some very important blizzard rations (chips.. mac&cheese..sandwiches..), the snow was starting to fall. It was just barely sticking, but the wind threw it like icicles into my eyes, while blowing graceful swirls and curlicues around my feet. Not fair, wind, not fair.
By the time I got home it was close to an inch thick.
It's not snowing right now, but the big momma is supposed to hit tonight. Most things are closing early today, and won't be open tomorrow. The last time the CTA stopped running was back in '79..
"I like how we've been through a hurricane and a blizzard in the past 2 months." Emily says.
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