adventures in serving italian food

As a server, I find that the strangest things make my day. For example, I was ecstatic that two tables left an extra pen on my table. Two completely different tables, back to back! That might sound trivial, but when you find a good pen and get used to using it, and then have to let a guest use it to sign a credit card receipt and they take it…well, its just devastating. We usually carry three pens at a time, so if two tables steal a pen each, youre down to one. And it is only a matter of time before someone steals the last one. How do you write a complicated food order for a party of 12 without a pen? You don’t.

But today the restaurant gods smiled upon me, and was given two beautiful pens. Clicky Pens!!

But pens are nothing compared to genuine manners and pleasant attitude from your table. A smile, a wave, or even something as simple as answers to your questions:

“how are you today?”
“Yeah, I’ll take the minestrone.”

Is not acceptable

“ma’am, would you prefer soup or salad?”
“I thought it already came with that big bowl of salad!”
“yes, ma’am, but you have a choice between the salad or a bowl of soup.”
“so you’re not going to bring my salad? I thought you brought salad!”

and so on.

But sometimes you find people who actually listen, who actually care about what you have to say, and do not cut you off in mid sentence.

Personally, I am perfectly happy with any table that does not look down its nose at me or snap at me or clap its hands at me or try to tell me how to do my job.

I especially LOOOOOVE middle aged women. I will deal with any grouchy, smelly, pain in the butt table of 30 toddlers before I will volunteer for a table of over-dressed, control freak middle aged women.

I honestly do not understand what is happening in this world. All white women between the age of 29 and 60 seem inclined to bad temper, bad manners, bossiness, controlling attitude, too much bad perfume, god complex, stupid over-the-top laughter, and prissy snotty flat out rudeness. They shop at kohl’s and all wear the same thing, have the same interest in basket bingo, coach bags, competing against each other’s kids, too much makeup and jewelry, laziness, and just a general bad attitude. Theyre the type that will sit and take up a table for 4 hours without a tip, or have to order for their husband, friend, kid, elderly parent, or the person at the table next to them. No, he doesn’t want peach tea, regular will do just fine. Or honey, you don’t like alfredo sauce. Or I want the capellini pomodor (literally tomatoes and angel hair pasta) but with no tomatoes. Or with Alfred sauce instead of the tomatos.

I swear, that dish is the most complicated I have ever seen. It is literally diced roma tomatoes and angel hair pasta, but at least once a week I have a conversation like this one:

“Can I get fettuccini Alfredo instead of the tomato sauce on the pomodoro?”
“do you mean fettuccini or alfredo?”
“fettuccine alfredo”
“so you don’t want capillini pomodoro at all?”
“yes, I just don’t like the sauce”
“ma’am, the dish is literally angel hair pasta with tomatoes. Do you want alfredo sauce in place of the tomatoes?”
“yes, that’s what I said”
“oh, I’m sorry, I thought you wanted fettuccini alfredo. Fettuccine is a pasta, and alfredo is a white sauce.”
“yes, the white sauce”
“but you still want the angel hair, right?”
“it comes with angel hair?”
“yes ma’am.”
“no, just give me the thick flat noodles, what are they called?”
“Fettuccini”
“yeah, them”
“so you want fettuccini with alfredo sauce?”
“yes, but made like this capilini pomodoro.”
“ma’am. That dish is completely different. Capalini is a type of pasta that we call angel hair. Pomodoro is the sauce. Its literally diced tomatoes. it is angel hair with tomatoes. fettuccine alfredo is the flat noodles with a white sauce.”
“well cant they substitute it?”
“theyre two different dishes. Look, lets do it this way: do you want angel hair or fettuccine?”
“fettuccine”
“and red or white sauce?”
“white”
“okay, I’ll bring you fettuccine alfredo.”
“well doesn’t that cost more?”
“yes. The alfredo sauce is more expensive than the pomodoro sauce.”
“well, just bring me the cheaper one.”
“If I bring the cheaper one, it will be the tomato sauce with angel hair pasta.”
“It doesn’t matter. Oh, and no olives, croutons, tomatoes, onions, or peppers on my salad. But can you throw a few extra cucumbers on there?”
“we don’t have cucumbers”
“are you sure? They did it for me last week.”
“ma’am, ive worked here for three years. We have never, in the history of the restaurant had cucumbers.”
“I swear they had them last week. Are you sure?”
“positive.”
“alright, just put some French dressing on it then.”
“ we do not have French dressing either.”
“can I speak to yoru manager? You’re getting a little bit of an attitude and I’m not sure I like it.”
“gladly.”


I swear, this is the type of conversation I have with people allllllllll the time. And when they don’t understand because they aren’t listening, they think I’m either rude or stupid.


I love my job.

2. chocolate

Of course, the only thing I love nearly as much as Troy is chocolate. Dont act like you're shocked.

I wish I had some unique or interesting perspective on chocolate, or some amazing insight that makes me love it more than other women.

I do not.

I love chocolate for all of the right reasons:

1. tastes amazing
2. the texture of good chocolate is smooth and soothing. the best texture is dove extra dark. Hershey has the worst texture.
3. endorphines. seriously.
4. it always makes me feel better. it can cure a cold, belly ache, head ache, cramps, bad mood, hunger. its like the cocaine doctors used to give patients. Cure-all.
5. dark chocolate is good for you in small doses.
6. aphrodisiac.
7. it is good with anything and everything. i have yet to find something that chocolate does not improve or complement.
8. diverse. which is different than #7. aside from tasting good with anything, it also can be used in many recipies. several holidays are dependent on chocolate in my mind. it comes in many forms, shapes, sizes, ect.
9. it makes one feel surprisingly rich. I could not have a penny to my name, but if i have a chocolate bar in my hand, i feel like coco Chanel or Liz Taylor (only younger)
10. it will always be there for me. it is accessible, cheap, easy to find and make, and will never let me down.

I wont go into my life story involving chocolate the way i did about troy, but i am a chocolate snob.

I do not eat Hersheys chocolate, if I can help it. Dont get me wrong, chocolate is chocolate, but given a choice, I will pick something with a little more taste.

chocolate with chili peppers is amazing. Mayan chocolate. mmmm.

I am not one for candy bars. I used to be, but as i grow older, I find that the extra sugar and added candies that used to appeal to me now just make it too sweet and ruin the taste.

I am learning to despise milk chocolate. I cant pin point when it happened, but dark is the way to go.

I am particular about the chocolate i eat in general. If i want smooth and silky, i choose dove. if i want crisp and bitter, ghiardelli. Rich and robust means Godiva. the best possible milk chocolate is wolfgangs. Wilbur chocolate is good too. many people dont know about them, but they are a small dutch chocolate company in Pennsylvania. I do not eat that colorful Target brand chocolate...whats it called? choxie or something like that? yuck. and. if it is wrapped in cheap foil with a bunny or pumpkin on it. i will not. eat. it.

and also crunch bars. yuck.


abuelta. amazing Mexican hot chocolate made by nestle.

by the by, i love the movie chocolat. and it has very little to do with johnny depp, contrary to popular belief.

1. Troy

Troy is my top item to be thankful for. I feel that it is especially important right now that I speak about him and remember why he is the number one item on my list.

he is in ecuador. i am home. I have all sorts of trepidation about him right now because of this hateful trip. I feel that discussing all of the reasons I love and am thankful for him will help me to get over this horrible fear and depression I have been struggling with.


Troy and I overcame diversity from the very beginning of our relationship. I was afraid to give him a chance, and we eventually ended up dating (after he had to wiggle and squirm his way into finally admitting thathe was interested in me). We were only together for a week or so when my Ex, who I still believed myself to have feelings for, came into the picture and aksed me to take him back. My "what if" complex broke the one-week bliss of having troy, and i knew that if i didnt give the ex a last shot, i would never be happy and satisfied with troy.

the three weeks that I gave mr Ex a fresh start turned out to be terrible. a disaster. I couldnt have asked for a better result. For the first time in my toubled past with this particulr ex, I dumped him, and felt a sense of relief and happiness that i had not felt in years.

that night I told troy that i wanted him back and that I was in it 100%. I explained to him that all of my baggage was taken care of, i was no longer afraid of him, or afraid that I was making the wrong choice. I had a whole new appreciation for him.


to back up a little bit, because i need to record the story of us formally anyway, I first met Troy at my student orientation at community college. He didnt remember this at first, but now he recalls that he actually arranged for me to be in his tour group because he thought i was "cute". anyone having seen me that day would tell you that i was not cute, but pissed off, in a bad mood, and wearing all black on a sunny fall day.

at any rate, i remember asking him about literary magazines and news papers. he told me about bittersweet, and the editor of it, who would eventually become the dreaded "ex" discussed above. I would take troy's advice and join the literary club, fall for the editor, and not only date him, but also become the editor myself.

Troy would later tell me that, while i always remembered and noticed him, he would only remember me as "mike's girlfriend"

I remember a few times of running into him in the great hall, or watching him clean the tables in the cafe (he was the head of the college's housekeeping crew at the time) and watching him bend over the tables. i remember when he finally stopped shaving his head and how much cuter he was with hair. I remember seeing him the first week of class, and feeling relieved because i "technically" knew someone. I remember hearing stories about him and wondering what he was like, but never having a reason to talk to him. so I dated mike, and just went along my way.


until one day when i would run into troy in the great hall at school. he was talking to a good friend of mine, who, in passing, would ask me how mike was doing. I would reply "that asshole?" and a whole new world of ideas would open up in troy's mind.


he admits to using my friend to get to me. he would turn down my offers to hang out, but eventually run into me at applebees, and we would hang out a few days later. he not only used my friend (xtian) to get to me, but also my love for writing. he asked me to look over his writing, and then to ask me to help him with a writing project. it was that project that would eventually get me to his house alone on a friday night, sitting and talking until some late hour, and then to his house on several other occasions, and then to dinner on valentines day.

he used to give me back massages. all the time. im not sure how he did it, but he managed to get me to pull my shirt all the way up my back and let him sit on my lower back and just massage me. oil, candles, ect. amazing. i he would be rubbing my back, and i would be dreaming about him bending over and kissing me.

but i was afraid to kiss him once we finally started dating. between him and mike, there was a rash of random, not attractive, but avaliable guys in my life. a chef, a server, a master electrician, a musician, ect. the last guy i dated before troy was a 23 year old amazing guy who happened to be really awkward in dealings with women. he scared me for life. he was what made me afraid and avoid all possibilities of dating/kissing troy. i was afraid of awkardness. I was afraid that, if troy kissed me, it would ruin him for me. so i avioided it until i couldnt any more. until he finally sat on his floor one day while i was laying on the couch, and he asked me if he could finally be allowed to kiss me. what was i going to do? i coldnt say no.

and that would start a butterflies in my belly obsession with kissing him. from that day, there would be no end to it. i would never want to stop. i blush thinking about it (2 years later). things were great.

and then the fiasco with mike the "ex". but we were stronger after that. we really were. I remember having lunch with troy every friday at panera. i remember spending more time with him than with the "ex" while i was dating him. and "the ext" didnt seem to care. finally, after a talk with the "ex" i came to the conclusion that I was unhappy and being incredibly stupid. I wanted troy. I wanted him more than anything I had ever wanted in my life.

So I asked him to take me back. we had argued and avoided each other and been mean to each other, made each other cry while i took the ex back, but it all faded away.

and these have been the best two years of my life.


top 10 reasons I love troy:
1. he understands me and I understand him. we are best friends, not just boyfriend and girlfriend. we agree on things and fight, but not about major things. we get along perfectly.
2. i love him physically. just by rubbing my arm or holding my hand, he can make everything okay. im convinced that my anger and depression with him being gone is the result of him not being here to touch me. we can lay together and just sleep comfortably.
3. he has the same goals that i have. marriage, kids, how to raise kids, money, travel, continue education. we both find the same things important. we have the same ideas about teaching and pushing our kids. we both want the same thigns for a wedding, the same type of house. we agree on foods, like the same styles, movies, music. peas in an ipod, so to speak.
4. he loves me. there is a certain amount of trust that comes along with knowing that a person loves you so much. i do not doubt him. i do not worry that he is with/much less looking at another woman. i know that, in spite of my insecurities, i am the one for him. i know he would do anythign for me.
5. he encourages me. he wants me to be the best at whatever i can. he wants me to push myself and loves my accomplishments. he is proud of me, and it shows. but he also worries about me and helps me along the way. I do/feel all of the same things about him.
6. he isnt selfish. he gives and takes and makes sacrifices. he always considers my opinion. he listens to me, in general, which is amazing.
7. we communicate. i am never afraid to talk to him about things. i know he wil listen, and even if we fight, it only lasts a little while.
8. he is beautiful. i never imagined that i would love a fuzzy guy, but now i know that, without the fuzz, he wouldnt be mine. i love how soft his hands are and the orangeish ness of his eyes in the light. i love that strip of hair betwen his wrist and pinkie finger. his little heart shaped lips, his bubble butt, his belly, his smell, his bad breath in the morning.
9. he is going somewhere. i dont need to motivate him. he is not afraid to get up early, or to apply for a job, or to better himself in one way or another. he has goals and wants to be great.
10. all of those reasons combined, along with others that i wont mention here. add to it his pride, family, humbleness, shyness, little kid qualities, his smile, and just the general way he makes me feel.


i know that whatever problems i have with him right now, all of the things that are bothering me about this trip, i know that just his presence will make it better. just feeing him hold my hand will fix it all.

ten things intro

I found out about the "ten things" concept by surfing through random blogs. So many people have created the list, and I think now, while I am having problems with Troy being gone, to start a list of my own. So the items under this category will be ten (possibly expanding to more than ten eventually) that make me happy, or that I appreciate for one reason or another.

Ten Things

I will try to devote a blog to each of my main 10 things, and then add blogs when i need on individual days or events. 10things will be my way of remembering what is important, of getting back to the happy, little things kind of person that i use to be.

buzzzzzz

you, dear reader, may notice something distinctly bright about my blog. distinctly bright and new...and shaped like a bumble bee!

thats right, this lady, the genius, if you will, finally figured out how to create a favicon. how brilliant I am.

now, beware: you will probably only see if when using Firefox. I'm working on that. at any rate, it looks so beautiful. I love it. dearly.


I might have to redesign it and make it a prettier little bumble bee. as it is, it is a modified version of my buddy icon. i need to create a new one of those soon anyway.


i'm off to bed. I will dream about little bummble bees buzzing all around me. I hope they dont have stingers.

gone gone gone

i finally recieved my certificate and pin for Sigma Tau Delta. Nothing like a pin telling you how special you are to make one feel a bit less discouraged by the hateful institution of education. The STD honor society really doesnt mean very much, not as much as the Alpha Chi society, but it still feels good to be acknowledged.

Tonight is a lunar eclipse. the moon is currently red and completely covered by the shadow of the sun. How awesome is that? I have never seen one. Ever. I wish I had a better camera to take a pic of it. I have m Holga, but I doubt the picture I took will turn out right. but we shall see.

Spent some time with Heather tonight. She's an awesome chick. I hate girls, so it always amazes me when I can sit and talk and laugh and fee completely comfortable with another girl. I had a fantastic time, and it really felt nice to get out of the house and stop feeling sorry for myself and being sad about Troy being gone. We do have quite a bit in common, right down to a hatred and subsequent crusade in Highschool against a hateful coach/english professor. Aparently we were both telling him about himself in the same year (semester, perhaps) and didnt even know it.

It feels good to make new friends.

I think thats what I love so much about my classes this semester. I feel like I have college friends. I had them at Carroll, but that was closer to Highschool than College. I do miss those friends though. Some more than others.

I have never been a fan of Zeppelin, but this robert plant/allison krauss cd is amazing.

I havnt had a "troy is gone" song this time. When he was in Mexico, the song was Ava Adore by the pumpkins, but this time there is no ipod, and very little music in general. I think that has been part of my problem. more music starting now. though I will still refrain from picking a song. Ava Adore is ruined. It makes me sad. (but I still love it). I have been listening to quite a bit of Sigur ros, but thats not new. They are the only band I consistently listen to at all times and no matter what.


I am finally cleaning this garbage disposal of a bedroom. It makes me sick to sleep here. I have no idea where the energy came from, but I am gonna get back to the beast before I lose the little bit of motivation I have.

Speaking of motivation, I finally made some sort of painting. I guess it would be a mixed media painting. Fairly simple (though it is reversed in the picture) I'm pretty happy with it. It is a terrible Oprah club book that was horribly written, cut up, water colored, and modge podged to canvas. The idea came to me in a dream, to be completely honest. It feels good to have one of the many floating images out of my head and off my chest. I have accomplished something, even if its something small and trivial. I love how something so simple can still be pretty and art, and is still an expression of myself and what I feel. I call it "A Novel Romance"


Love it.

I need you to need me

During my two days of chaotic depression (caused by not hearing from Troy when I expected to hear from him) I had quite a bit of time to think about our relationship, but not as much as I learned after speaking to him two nights in a row.

The first night troy called me was Saturday night. He was happy and rearing to go. He said he didn’t miss home, he was having fun, making friends, and generally having fun. That’s all I wanted to hear, right? He was safe, happy, not stressed. I thought so too, but something interesting happened when I got off the phone after a too expensive and too short phone conversation: I found myself suddenly upset with him for being so happy. Left field. It took me a few hours to dissect the anger and understand where it came from and why. In fact, it was not until a few hours ago that I finally managed to speak to Troy again and gain a full appreciation for what my anger meant.

The first call gave me the impression that I was not important, that he could easily and happily survive anywhere with or without me. I felt expendable. Like an employee or aggravating obligation. Hearing the happiness in his voice and the rushed tone of one who is paying $2 a minute for a call did not give me the impression that he wanted to call. I realize now that this was all in my head, but honestly, the circumstances speak for themselves. Here I am, depressed and unable to function because I miss him so much, and there he is, having a blast in a beautiful country. How would anyone else feel?

The second call was a little more of what I was prepared for. He was angry with his boss and needed comforting: a role for me to play, a need for me to fill, a reason to be missed. I immediately jumped into a 3-minute version of my normal comforting and reassuring mode. He called me not out of duty, but because he needed me.

This speaks more about human nature as a whole than about my relationship with Troy. We need to be needed. It took me a while to give in to this humanly urge when I was younger, but now I see that needing someone is not a sign of weakness or of girlyness, but a general human behavior. Biology, if you will. It is okay to let someone hold the door for you. It is okay to cry. It is okay to be depressed because you miss someone.

There is nothing worse than being surrounded by an unsympathetic, anti-emotional family when you are hurting and sad. I think my fear of needing someone is a product of my mother pushing me to be as cold and independent as she is. I do not want to be like that. Crying over someone is miserable, but not crying over them would be worse. I could not imagine going through my day without Troy and being glad that he is gone, or not wanting him to come back, or even just not caring. What is a relationship for if the members of said relationship are not attached or important to one another?

So I will continue to want Troy to be happy. Just because he is having a good time does not mean that he doesn’t need me, or that he will abandon me to live out the rest of his life in South America. I know he will not leave me. I know that he will come back changed, a different person because of his experience in Ecuador, but that person will still be the person I love, and not someone to avoid or fear.

I do wish the calls could last a little bit longer though. It takes the first minute for me to get over the shock of speaking to him, then the second minute is him talking to me, and I get a minute to talk to him with my long-winded inability to form a sentence, and then that’s it. But Its almost over. Not really. He hasn’t even been gone a week out of the three yet. But its gonna fly by. I hope.

its just an email.

i honestly did not know that it is possible to worry yourself sick. i know for sure, now, that it is possible. I have worried myself to the point of physical sickness. and all over something that i am sure is fine. I know that internet is not as rampant in other countries as it is here. i know flights get delayed. i know that arriving in a new country does not always leave time for phonecalls and emails. but i am afraid of what i do not know, and that email is what lets me know what is going on.

i suppose the email will arrive. i know that there are reasonable, non death/destruction-related reasons that said email has not apeared in my inbox, but i will be worried sick until it does.

in the mean time, im going to watch scrubs. I'm glad he gave me scrubs before he left. it seems to be the only thing that can take my mind off of my worries and fears and actually help me relax. i think i need a drink.

this is it.

the day has arrived. i am sitting on troy's couch waiting for him to shower. we're leaving for dulles in a little bit. im going to drop him off and return home alone.

as was expected, the day for this scary trip (my first ever driving by myself in, over, around, near, through dc) has turned out to be quite the fun, warm, pleasant, sunny, peachy day.

and by that, i mean i just spent a good hour scraping a layer of ice from all sides and surfaces of my car. and i was soaked. it wouldnt be bad if the temperature would rise. but the ice will turn to rain and the rain will turn to snow while i am on my way home.


thrills.

troy doesnt seem worried that the weather will be too bad for me to drive in, so i guess i shouldnt worry.


but then again, my car stalls out and starts smoking in deep puddles.


i need a new car. first item of business after graduation and new job.


in the mean time, i had a fight with my mother over sheets this morning. i had a fit because the sheets I bought (for over 50$) were given to my brother to use. my mother said i shouldnt take my problems with troy leaving out on her. i think she missed the point.

she doiesnt understand that i basically confine everything i own to one room. i buy all of my own things. the only public domain items in my house that i use are water, electricity, and food. i buy and wash my own sheets, towels, clothes. i use very few dishes, and wash them when i finish.

i swear, i was not made to share a house with five other people.

but graduation is around the corner. i cant wait.

so i got a little sidetracked.

the point is that i will be stuck with her for three weeks telling me any time i am angry that i should go yell at troy or that i shouldnt take my anger or frustration at his leaving out on her. she loves to rub this sort of stuff in.

i finally gave troy the big project. i hope he doesnt think it is dumb. i hope he appreciates it and likes it for what it is. i hope the whole thing wasnt a waste of my month and a half.

i skipped school yesterday. my department head/faculty adviser said i made the correct decision. i feel a little less guilty now.


im hungry. i took troy's word that he was going to make us breakfast. somehow i think our plans have changed.

the time we have

My life has been frantic. Between school and work and getting ready for troy to leave, I have felt not stressed, but hectic. I told Troy last night that I feel as though I have him on loan until he gets back from Ecuador. I do. We can never just do nothing together, it seems that every second that I see him is planned, or squeezed in and fleeting.

Super bowl and fiction reading at UB, a show downtown, seeing his dad, going out last weekend, and then squeezing in a few hours after school and work is rough when you know that you will only have someone for a very short period of time. I am heartbroken that I will not get to see him at all on Monday and Tuesday before he leaves. All I have is Wednesday, which we all know is a useless day.

We plan to spend Wednesday in DC as an early Valentines day, since he leaves on the real valentines day. But the weather gods do not seem like ones to want to favor us. Various Weathermen are calling for snow and rain. I guess we’ll find out.

TO ease the loneliness I have been feeling, and the weight I have been gaining, I decided to take a walk. I have been too lazy lately, so I tried a new tactic: canine motivation. “Cody, you wanna go for a walk?” Once I get the words out there is no turning back or changing my mind. He will bark, whine, and scratch at my bedroom door. Besides, the excitement in his eyes and wag of his tail would not let me deny him a walk once I put the idea in his head.

The walk did everything I wanted it to do. I feel a little more energetic and a little less lonely. Sometime, you are wrapped up in what is going on in life and the people around you that just something as simple as a walk can seem useless and trite. But it is therapeutic. Just the act of moving, of being alone and quiet and hearing birds sing and water flow in the creek can calm me. I forgot about all of that. Where have I gone, the person who enjoys exercise and physical movement? Where is the soccer playing, swimming, hockey-loving chick that I used to be?

I think my school ate her.

I want to at least take more walks while Troy is gone. Not only because I want to lose some weight, but because I will need the calming effect of a long walk to calm me. I can’t remember how it was when he went to Mexico two summers ago. Was I constantly lonely? Did I cry often? I had more friends then. Ashley and Jeremy and Jacqueline and Kevin and Christian, and Brandon, and Denise.

Are friends as permanent as I think they are? I really cannot say that, with troy gone, if I needed someone; I would know who to call. I suppose I would call Ashley, but I know she is stressed and has her own problems. Do I lack something by not having a set group of girlfriends? I wouldn’t find time for them if I had them, so I don’t think I am missing anything. Every now and then I come across a female that I know I would get along with, but its as if I have forgotten how to interact with another girl. Once Niff went away, I lost that. I miss her a lot. I don’t know that I would admit that out loud, but I miss having her around. It was easier when she wasn’t a mom. Once the gap closes, there are so many reasons not to call someone. If nothing else, there is the distance. You are no longer a part of that person’s life; you do not know what is going on. You don’t understand their daily interactions, they have to explain things to you. Re-visits and catch-up’s aren’t easy. That’s why I tend to avoid them. I have let so many people go that I find it easier to do that now. It is easier to forget how much fun they were than to schedule times to hang out or find a way to rearrange our schedule for a lunch date. How do we find time for people that we see all the time? Why is it that a little bit of distance makes everything so much harder?

I like to blame school. But I slack enough to find time to do all sorts of useless things…like writing a blog…but why cant I find time to just chill and take a walk?

Speaking of slacking, I need to write a paper before class today. Not to mention I need to work on and complete that “big project” that I really hope isn’t just a disappointment in the end. I hope it is appreciated for what it is and enjoyed the way that I intend.

The Illywhacker

I have never been unable to find a textbook in my life. I am usually the person who can find a copy cheaper and earlier than my classmates. I feel as thought the University gods have chosen my number: it is my time to suffer.

I was supposed to have read 33 chapters of this damnable book by tomorrow afternoon. Not going to happen.

The university bookstore informed me that the publisher is out of stock, the UB library has told me that they gave their last copy to a student this morning. Not a single Barnes and Noble in Maryland or Southern Pennsylvania have a copy. Neither Borders nor Greetings and Readings have had a copy in the past two weeks.

Lets not mention Villa Julie, McDaniel, towson, Goucher, St. Marys, all of the community colleges of Marlyland and the University Circuit.

Oh, but they do have a copy in College Park.

Yes, let me drive to college park for a textbook. I'll do it right after I get out of class tonight at 10:45pm.


Well, what can I do? I guess this means I get off easy. Oh happy day.

What the hell is an Illywhacker, anyway?

According to google definitions, an illywhacker is " a novel by Australian writer Peter Carey"

Wikipedia also says it is a novel, but adds that is an australian slang name for "a stick for hitting a child with". aside ending the definition with a preposition, Wikipedia also says an Illywhacker is "not allowed anymore." Now, I ask you, does that mean the word is not allowed "anymore" or the use of a stick to hit a child?

either way, the peer reviewers at Wikipedia have begun to slack and the book has vanished from the face of the earth.

Meanwhile, this computer lab (in the student center) smells like old, greasy popcorn and the keyboard on which I am typing is nasty. I think I shall walk to Starbucks.

Side note: why is Wikipedia not in the dictionary that governs typing online?

no time for losers.

First things first: a lesson.

Cheaters never prosper.

That’s all I want to say about the massive upset tonight. The NY Giants pulled together and beat, nay, destroyed the New England Patriots. I have what I wanted. I am complete. My season has ended perfectly. Bring on the new Ravens coach and next season, I’m ready.

I really couldn’t care who won the Super bowl, as long as the Patriots lost. It could have been the Steelers (and you know how I feel about the Steelers), as long as the Patriots were knocked down from their high horse of false idol-hood.


Now, on to the project. It is getting pretty massive and I am running out of time. I need to pick up the pace. It will be ready before the 13th or I will be upset (and not sleeping on the 12th.)

I love secrets.