My jeans.....

That ellipsis means "I know some of you are singing right now and I don't want to have any part in it."

Per usual beginning-of-school rush, I had to pay some extra money to ensure that my jeans would arrive at four o'clock on the day before school started. Naturally, in my stupor (when this happened, I interpreted it as euphoria) I tried them on and, after being reassured that they fit, lay them out on my desk.

You can probably imagine how the first day of school went, because I presume everyone else has the same sort of first day of school. (Except that maybe other people are nicer because in their distant land people change over the summer.)

Two days later, once it was the weekend and I was lazing around the house in my nicest clothes (read: skirts) the damage I had wreaked began to sink in.

Tally of things I turned blue:
--My socks. (many pairs)
--My Converse. (inside and out)
--My hands.
--My bedspread.
--My sheets.
--My desk calendar.
--My shirt.
--Parts of the couch.
--Some clean laundry.
--My backpack.

ALWAYS WASH THE JEANS. ALWAYS.

I like words, but. . . .

I was reading an article perhaps a couple of days ago (no, I cannot remember where, I do apologize) and read that there actually is a language up North where they have lots of different names for snow, like the snow on rooftops and snow that has not yet been stepped on.

As I brought this up, my mother mentioned that she had read a book where the main character is a truck-driver in England, and all it ever does is rain. He becomes so irritated that he develops certain names for the rain, like the misty rain, and the rain that, no matter how fast your windshield wipers go, you still can't see through.

It was then brought up that the Romans had a ridiculous amount of words for specific ways of killing people, and that made me think.

What does it mean that in America we have so many words that mean "moron"?

Does anyone else have this problem? Is that even a question I need to ask?

A lot of times, when browsing the web, I find polls.

The vary greatly (What do you think of the new budget plan? to Do you feel prepared for the next natural disaster? to Who wore it better--Pippa or Lindsay?) but they all inspire the same sort of fear.

I can't even answer that question. What kind of natural disaster? I want to say Pippa but that's a kind of ugly dress. . . . What did other people think? I can fit two responses. I don't have an opinion but I want to see the results.

So I choose one result, which is usually pretty close to what I THINK I think but once I see the other answers my opinion immediately changes. Then I freak out and imagine inconsequential events that could stem from this. What if everyone else has this problem and all the data we have in world is wrong? What if all the decisions people make based on online polls are falsely supported?

. . . and that is how you make an online poll into (possibly) the end of the world. Thank you. Thank you very much.

Shredded Apple. . . or not. . . .

After all this ado about breakfast, I decided to try something I had been wondering about for a while: an apple smoothie.

This was about five minutes ago. I recall it vividly.

I was really excited. I peeled the apple and cut it up with three different knives. I put it in the blender and excitedly flipped the switch.

Mysteriously, nothing much happened. I remembered an earlier blenderizing experience where a bit of liquid had been the trick. So I added some orange juice.

After a series of me flipping the switch, nothing happening, and scraping down the sides, I realized something:

I was making applesauce.

I added some lemon juice and cinnamon and a touch of sugar and poured it into a bowl. I have to eat it now. It's not delicious, but it's pretty good.

What I really want is shredded apple. When inspiration next strikes, I am shredding an apple for all its worth and seeing if it is drinkable.

It must be interesting to not have the constant urge to make yummy breakfasts.

lowercaps

today was one of those days when it felt like everyone was talking in all caps.

it was kind of exhausting.

it may have sucked all my energy away. i apologize.

in my apology, i gave you this nice clean blog page: double-spaced and lowercase.

regular posting might resume tomorrow.

Oatmeal, REVISITED

I like the word revisited. It seems like the kind of word one would find in lowercase cursive on a vintage tag in Anthropologie that some color blogger (oh, how I wish) would incorporate into some sort of green, orange, and navy color scheme that would probably include suitcases and trunks and inevitable a meadow.

I digress.

I must confess that I have been lazy about my oatmeal. School started, and even though I wake up an hour and a half before I have to, I still have problems being on time. Well, not exactly that--I always leave on time. Let's say time management, shall we? I have had such problems taking dreaded showers in a hopefully short amount of time that the most I think about my oatmeal is Bleah, this is kind of gross and weird-tasting. And then I should put that thought out of my head because of a lack of options.

Then I got a magazine in the mail (hurrah) and it had this whole article on snacks which I quite enjoyed. Cottage cheese and apricots, crystallized pineapple and pistachios, yogurt with pear or apple slices, pita bread and hummus. . . and oatmeal with maple syrup. So of course I simply had to try it.

Usually I have oatmeal with fruit, depending on what's in season--right now I'm still coasting on blueberries. I used to have raisins, but we don't have some currently and sometimes I do not like them. I also have been cruising with my year-old vanilla sugar, which I made.

Since maple syrup costs $22 I opted, as I usually do, for my mother's pseudo-syrup which is still good. And I must tell you that oatmeal and syrup is delicious. I highly recommend it.

Fruit fruit fruit. I like fruit. It is yummy. Nom nom nom.

I'm afraid I'm rather hungry. I cannot wait until green grape season so I can freeze them! }:D
 

I'm still alive (and sucking ice, because it's hot inside)

I'm going to continue weekending.

So I invite you to check out my updated links bar.

And perhaps suck on ice.

It's really cold.