Book Suggestion

Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand. Go read it. So good.

wisdom

wisdom teeth removal= excuse to: wear the same pair of sweats five days in a row (yes, I have), wear no makeup for five days in a row, not do my hair for five days in a row, read a book all day, and not clean my temp room that has somehow gotten very messy.

Either I've reverted to my natural desires (most likely), or this is me acting without the previously-possessed wisdom contained in my wisdom teeth (my excuse).

oh, you know, just..

Here's a fact: When walking by someone, I prefer the usual, boring "Hey, how's it going?" "Good" "Good" "You?" "Good" "Good." Not because I don't care how people are or because I like to use template phrases for all of my conversations, but because when people ask "What's up?" I freeze.

This is what I look like on the inside,

and this is what I'm sure I look like on the outside (deer in the headlights, get it..)

I have no idea what to say. I feel like a socially awkward weirdo. Do I say, "oh, nothing really." Or, "oh, you know, just studying.. (obviously, I'm sitting in the library reading a textbook)," or give a real response to their question, "oh just headed home to eat some lunch and change out of my wet boots from that big puddle back there before I have to go to work... oh, now you're really far away and I'm talking to myself.. oh, hi there.." Or is there something else I should say? Is is sad that I don't know this? How do normal people respond? Probably not the same as I do, which tends to be, "oh, just mmggbll nmnmgllnmg shshshofndnmv....."

From today on, I will ask not-socially-awkward individuals unlike myself, "What's up" rather than "how's it going" to see how they respond and how I should in like turn. So be flattered if that is my next greeting to you.

oh wow

no no no no no no no.

no way. no. way. I did NOT just write the wrong university name in an application, did I? yes, I did. After spending a good 2-3 hours on drafting it and countless read throughs, I ruined it. Tried to edit it and it is closed. Not surprised. Well, I'll call tomorrow and beg the nice registrar to please PLEASE PLEASE let me change it.

I just can't believe it happened. It's like something that would happen in a movie. A movie about a terribly unfortunate girl.

Must be a sign that I need some sleep. I guess Diet Coke can't solve all your sleep debt problems.

oh wow

PETS

When I was in the first grade, we bought two hamsters. They were the first pets I can remember having. I noticed that one had especially long whiskers and proposed he be named Whiskey. My parents began to object, but I continued, "Yes! And we'll name his twin Frisky, since it rhymes!" Nothing my parents said would convince my brothers or me. So, we had two hamsters, Whiskey and Frisky. They ran away after a few months of hide-and-seek behind the cabinets.

The next pet I can remember came when I was about 10.

It was a Betta fighting fish, named Abu. My cousin, Kiera, had conducted a college science experiment, wherein they had set up a bracket tournament of death, battling the fish against each other (no idea how this idea was approved or what the aim of the project had been). Abu won and she had no more use for him. So she gave him to us. We enjoyed holding a mirror against the bowl and watching him ram into the wall. Our fierce warrior. What a life he led.

Next, we bought a cockatiel and named him Homer. Ty loved him; he'd shower with him. Homer sat on our shoulders and flew around the house; we felt too bad to clip his wings. We should have done it though, because one day he flew away when my mom forgot he was on her shoulder and walked outside. We ran throughout the neighborhood, calling his name. He loved us, and I think he'd have come back, but simply didn't know how to find us. That night was cold and we moved on with our lives, thinking sadly that he most likely died from the cold or a predator. Months later, some friends who lived down the street heard us talking about Homer and said they'd found a cockatiel in their yard about that time. They'd kept him a few days and then turned him into a shelter.. or wherever it is you take lost domestic birds. I hope he found a good home, though I don't think anyone will love him as much as Ty did.

And now, we have Copper. He is a toy poodle, but looks nothing like one.

He had copper red hair as a puppy; now it's strawberry blonde. Ty and my mom picked him out because he had a sweet, loving disposition. No one will make you feel the way Copper does. He will cuddle up with you and love you more than anyone else can. But he will still play chase with you. He doesn't bark or shed or smell. He's not messy. (Unless you leave the bathroom door open--he does love toilet paper.) He is IN LOVE with my mom. She is his mother. When he hears the garage door open, he dances waiting for her, unable to sit still. As she walks in the door, he runs up her body and onto her shoulder. He follows her around the whole day. Even sits in the bathroom while she showers.** It's adorable how in love with my mom he is. EVERYONE who comes to our house falls in love with him. A few months ago, I saw a friend of my brothers who hadn't been to our house for about a year. He showed me that he still had a picture of him and copper as the wallpaper on his phone. That is Copper. And I love him.

** Funny story. Copper is like my mom's new baby. And Ty is my younger brother, the baby of the family. So sometimes she accidentally calls Copper Ty and Ty Copper. Well, once she was headed up to her bathroom and said, patting her thigh, "Ty, I'm headed up to shower. Want to come?" "No, Mom, I don't."

je ne sais quoi

Have you ever met someone that is mysterious to you?

You want to ask them: who are you, really? what do you think about? what is it that you care about? what is it that I don't know about you that keeps me from knowing you?

I wish reading people in real-life was as easy as reading people in stories can be.

Autumn!

"Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address."

Fantastic quote from best movie ever, "You've Got Mail."

Mmmmm I. LOVE. THE. FALL.

((keep in mind, Fall=days that are 40-75 degrees Fahrenheit))

Can you beat an overcast day? Where the world around you is saturated with a blue hue and happy-soaked air? My own contentment is full; it bubbles over into a smile I can't subdue.

All I want to do is come home and bake! Pie, soup, bread, cider. Turn on some Christmas music. Put on some thermals, a big fluffy sweater and thick, cabled sweater socks. Maybe a beanie. Or a Santa hat. And cuddle on the couch (sadly at this time in my life, I am also cuddling with the couch) with a blanket, a mug of soup or cocoa, and a delightful book. Turn on Debussy, and read away. With the window open and the clean air washing my skin. Nothing can beat it. Nothing!

Some analogies of bacon

I hate bacon. Can I just say it? I. HATE. BACON.

Too salty. eugh. I hate it alone and I hate it when it's not alone. In fact, that's when I hate it most, when it's simply one ingredient of many in a dish. Because the salty, overpowering bacon taste kicks my tongue so hard that I can't taste any of the other flavors! Get out of the way, bacon! and let me taste what else this casserole/soup/salad has to offer!

It's like the kid that pulls up next to you with a really loud, fuzzy subwoofer; you can't hear the rest of the music and I hate it. (To be honest, I actually appreciate the added volume to the bass, as long as it is a clean emphasis to the beat. But when it's just a sloppy, buzzing vibration, you can't hear the music.)

It's the silly busywork that never allows you the time to grasp the actual point of a class.

It's the old woman that wears really powerful perfume.

Those are my analogies for you. Hopefully you now understand why I feel the way I do about bacon.

Great book!

Summer book recommendation: The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, by Alan Bradley. It is about a precocious eleven-year old, Flavia, who loves chemistry and solves mysteries. It is hilarious!! An easy read, so you'll be able to read it very quickly.

Here's a quote to sell it to you:

"Seed biscuits and milk! I hated Mrs. Mullet's seed biscuits the way Saint Paul hated sin. Perhaps even more so. I wanted to clamber up onto the table, and with a sausage on the end of a fork as my scepter, shout in my best Laurence Olivier voice, 'Will no one rid us of this turbulent pastry cook?' "

Anyway, that's my recommendation to you.

I'm almost done with my blasted PA school apps. And at the moment, it's looking like it'll be $945 to submit them all. I think I may throw out a few programs though.. we'll see. I guess it could be worse. I'm glad I'm not applying to med school.

Also, Miserere from Il Trovatore came up today. I love it. So beautiful!!

Words are Fun!

My friend Lily and I like to send messages to each other using ridiculous words. We find it fun. My trick is a beautiful website, Factacular. I suggest you try it out. You can come up with gems like:

I usually have a floccinaucinihilipilificat​ion (the concept that something is worthless) for requests, but in this case, you needn't worry about being perceived as a botheration( bother); you sounded so aerumnous (full of trouble), eschewing (to avoid/shun) you would seem fescennine (extremely rude). In response to your plea, I suggest you absquatulate (to leave quickly or in a hurry) to a vega (a large plain or valley, typically grassy). Don't daggle (to make wet and limp) yourself in the brumous (abounding with fog or mist) of your thoughts; rather ensky (exalt to the skies) your thoughts until you reach an equipoise ( a state of equilibrium). You must realize your kalon (ideal, perfect beauty in the physical and moral sense); you are more than ecdysis (stripping of an outer coat).

I also suggest keeping a bumbershoot (umbrella) with you at all times. Also, think positively. At least you aren't a mammothrept (a spoiled child) or a rudas (ugly, foul-mouthed, old hag). DO NOT think of this as a boondoggle (waste of time and/or money). And I'm sorry if at times I bloviated (to speak at length in a pompous manner). Sincerely, your erinaceous (relating to or resembling hedgehogs), casuistic (sophic resolver of questions)lilliputian (a very small person or being), Mo

Please comment with some sentences of your own. I'd LOVE to hear them :)

Mo