Site Meter Blog Blog Blog!: December 2007

It's a self-preservation thing, you see.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

"Khristmas" with the Kids

What I have learned in the past four days:

Little kids need constant entertainment. A fifteen minute car ride with three kids equaled at least ten rounds of hangman. Imagine what four days with six single-digit aged kids were like.

And they all wondered why I needed to sleep until noon every day!

(That "sleep" in my cute little cousin's Hello Kitty bed, under her Hello Kitty sheets and her Hello Kitty comforter was not, by any means, undisturbed - an entire army of stuffed animals were pelted at me over the four day period by the little kids who played every sport under the sun and had amazingly strong little arms and impeccable aim.)

They also have boundless energy. Sitting still, even for five minutes, was a no-can- do for these kids. The words, "I'm bored!" accompanied by an eager "ENTERTAIN ME NOW!!" look on their faces translated to hours-long games of hide-and-seek in my aunt's new three story mansion, elaborate tea parties with topping-less pizza and pieces of princess wedding cake, and the baking of hundreds (seriously, hundreds) of cookies, and lots and lots and lots of origami.

Speaking of cookies...

Kids LOVE cookies. I have never seen a sheet of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies disappear so quickly before. Once I pulled a sheet out of the oven, placed it on top of the metal Winnie the Pooh cooling rack on the counter and turned my back to put another sheet of cookies into the oven, at least half of the cookies disappeared. Within ten minutes, the sheet was empty again.

Baking with kids meant lots of spilled flour and sugar, broken eggs, and attempts to stop one kid from eating all the raw cookie dough ("... but it's so yum-my!" she pleaded) and the other from eating all the chocolate chips out of the bag; in other words, PURE MADNESS.

"Pure madness" summed up my four days in New Jersey pretty accurately.


But I loved every single minute of it.

(Trying to get everyone together for one picture on Christmas day was like graduation all over again; which camera do we look into?? Hopefully one of the other cameras got a good shot.)

Now that I am back in the hustle and bustle of New York City and away from the zoo of my relatives' suburban households, I actually kind of miss being surrounded by kids twenty-four seven.

No worries though, I will be heading back into the fray (our next adventure will take place on the snowy slopes!) on Thursday evening.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Three Hours Ahead

The four short days I spent in San Francisco before hopping on my flight to New York were the four most stressful days I have had in a very long time. All of my first quarter of adjusting to college life and the first of many hellish finals weeks to come combined did not even begin to come close to how stressed out I was by the time I walked into the cabin of my jetBlue plane on the night of the fourth day.

I could not even find solace in baking - the one task on my long to-do list that I was actually looking forward to doing while at home.

There was less than two hours left on the clock before I had to leave for the airport, a mountain of undecorated cookies was glaring menacingly at me from their designated "cookie cooling spot" on the counter, all of the clothes I had brought home in the huge duffel bag that I had to summon my "Super Girl" strength in order to carry all the way from San Diego back to San Francisco with me were strewn haphazardly on the floor of my room, I still needed to shower because my hair was unspeakably disgusting, AND THE FUCKING WHITE CHOCOLATE SEZIED ON ME.

Seriously???

Sneaky drop of water in the bowl I tried to melt my white chocolate in?

Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou.

Long airport procedures made even longer by the entire jetBlue computer system throughout the airport going on the fritz the moment I got up to the counter and gave my name to the friendly face and a long, cross-country, red-eye flight FULL of parents with young children who all felt the need to scream their heads off for the full four hour and forty-five minute flight (not counting the hour or so I had to wait on the plane before the scheduled take-off time, thanks to the fucking computer system) did nothing to alleviate any of the pent up stress.

Being the filling of the screaming-child sandwich for nearly six fucking hours thanks to my seating arrangement nearly drove me CRAZY; I was a cranky and very sleep-deprived zombie upon landing and having to wait over half an hour for my bags just gave me more bitterness with which to fan the fire of the horrible wrath of vengeance I was about to release on the unsuspecting New York City.

Fielding call after call from relatives, especially ones who speak in nasally voices and refuse to end one-sided "conversations," all day was almost more exhausting than my flight.

Is it crazy that the only relative I enjoyed talking to on the phone was the one person I was not related to by blood?

I was going to go see the Rockettes on Christmas Eve courtesy of one of my suburban aunts, but apparently something went wrong with her ticket order so we won't be going this year. Instead, I will most likely be skiing down some snow-covered mountain.

Yes, skiing.

Only my non-blood related aunt would be able to convince my uncoordinated self to spend the holidays with her family on some mountain, risking a broken leg and possibly being beat out by my single-digit aged cousins on the slopes.

By the way, forty degrees here is "uncharacteristically warm."

And it started raining.

Ahhh...

Friday, December 14, 2007

A Very Reese's Finals Week

With the outrageous amount of junk food consumed by me, my roommates, my suitemates and, judging by the constant half-empty state of the rack of candy in the dining hall, the rest of the students living on campus during this past week, finals week should probably be renamed "gain-five-pounds" week to reflect the inevitable realities resulting from our sudden change in diet.

During what other time of the year would it be acceptable to eat chocolate covered shortbread cookies at two-thirty in the morning? Or have microwaveable mac and cheese for dinner with a hearty helping of chocolate, candy, and Candy Cane Joe-Joes for dinner every night for five nights in a row?

The tendency to stress-binge on junk foods was not helped by the fact that Brownie Day, Pastry Day, and Decorate-Your-Own-Cupcake Day were all celebrated consecutively in the dining halls this week either.

While my horrible eating habits will undoubtedly catch up with me before long, the bright side of having the stress of studying for finals to use as constant justification for some not-so-great food choices I have been making lately is that I have been able to experiment and try some pretty interesting variations of my favorite junk foods that I probably would never have picked up otherwise.

The people at the dining hall must have been able to read my mind because right after I mentally chose Reese's Peanut Butter Cup-related candies as my junk food theme for the week, I began to see at least one new variation in the candy racks every day. Way to encourage the candy consumption, Summit!

After the disappointing experience with the "NEW!" Reese's Whipps bar, I wasn't sure how much I would like the three other variations of one of my favorite classic candies that I picked up from the dining hall over the course of the week.

The first bar I picked up was the Reese's "NutRageous" bar:


The name of the bar was pretty corny, but I had fun using the expression, "THAT'S NUTRAGEOUS!" for days after I bought and consumed the bar, so the name rates pretty highly on the awesome-o-meter.

The bar itself received mixed reactions from me. I really liked the contrast of the hard peanuts and the soft peanut butter center in the bar, but the chocolately coating on the bar reminded me of the sub-par "artificial" chocolate taste of the coating on the Whipps bar and kind of ruined the awesomeness of the peanut buttery experience for me.

I also thought that the bar was too crumbly and all the bits of the chocolatey coating, specks of the peanut butter filling, and at times, even entire peanut halves, that fell onto my desk in between bites really annoyed me; eating a chocolate bar at midnight while pretending to go over notes about the similarities and differences of the American and French Revolutions was still a shameful thing to do, even during finals week, and hard evidence of the act was not appreciated by me.

Next on my list was the Kit-Kat look-a-like, ReeseSticks:


While I have never been a big fan of Kit-Kats, I have always loved the dark chocolate covered Kit-Kat-like wafer stubs in the assorted boxes of Belgian chocolate covered cookies that always seem to be lying around my house during the holiday season.

The combination of dry wafers and grainy chocolate that make up a Kit-Kat bar has never been very appetizing to me, though watching the 90's commercials for Kit-Kats with the catchy jingle always used to make me smile.

Since I expected the ReeseSticks to be just like Kit-Kats, but with the addition of a thin layer of peanut butter in between a few of the wafers, I did not have high expectations for the bar.

When I opened the package, however, I was pleasantly surprised by the two, rather large, unconnected chocolate covered wafer sticks sitting neatly in the cardboard box waiting for me.

One of the most annoying things about Kit-Kats, in my opinion, is having to break the thin wafer sticks apart by hand; the heat of my hands always ends up melting some of the cheap chocolate and the mess it creates is annoying when there isn't a sink with soap for clean-up nearby.

The next surprise came when I bit into one of the wafer sticks; instead of the dry, tasteless wafers waiting inside every Kit-Kat bar, the moist combination of sweet peanut butter went perfectly with the crisp, thin wafers in the ReeseStick and the layer of chocolate (that actually tasted like chocolate!) completed the taste experience and made the perfect, crunchy combo even better.

I ended up really liking the bar and when I was finished with the package, I found myself wishing that there were more than two sticks in each pack. The only complaint I had about ReeseSticks was that the chocolate coating felt kind of greasy, but I would take greasy-feeling chocolate over artificial-tasting chocolate any day.

The last variation of Reese's Peanut Butter Cup that I picked up from the dining hall (before my conscience started screaming at me and forcing me toward the salad bar) was the Resse's FastBreak bar:


The wrapper said that the bar was a combination of nougat and Reese's peanut butter covered in chocolate, so I expected the bar to taste a little something like a Milky Way bar with peanut butter inside.

When I opened the wrapper, I thought that the bar looked a little like a Milky Way bar, but when I bit into it, I realized that the FastBreak bar tasted just like a Snickers bar, minus the caramel (which I wouldn't miss) and the crunchy chew of the peanut halves; since Snickers rank pretty highly on my list of favorite candy bars of all time, I absolutely loved the FastBreak bar.

Out of all of the variations of the classic Reese's Peanut Butter Cup that I have tried recently, the FastBreak bar is probably the only one that I would realistically consider reaching for in the candy rack of a convenience store when the "must-have-chocolate-and-peanut-butter" craving hits; of course, the classic peanut butter cups would always be my first choice!

Thursday, December 13, 2007

The Twelve Days of Fall Quarter (Day Twelve)

On the twelfth day of Christmas my winter break countdown, my true love sneaky roommate gave to me...


...twelve drummers drumming chocolate rocking horse,


...eleven pipers piping The Dreamer's Dictionary,


...ten lords a-leaping cute snowmen cupcakes,


... nine ladies dancing finals care package,


... eight maids a-milking goblet full o' sweets,


...seven swans a-swimming DVD study break,


...six geese a-laying missing ink cartridge,


...five golden rings miso for lunch,


...four calling birds hope for an A,


...three French hens big discounts,


...two turtle doves six dollar film,


...and a patridge in a pear tree Naruto posing with me.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

The Not-Study Game

One of my roommates finished her finals last night and left campus for winter break over three and a half hours ago.

Me? I haven't even had my first "real" final yet, and I am already wavering dangerously closely to the dark abyss of "COMPLETELY BURNT OUT" on the study-o-meter.

Still. So. Much. To. Study.

Must. Move. Away. From. The. Hole.

My 11:30 am history final on Thursday will be my first "real" final of the quarter.

Instead of spending the day studying like a good student would have done, what did I, the girl who insisted on playing the "Not-Study Game" and dragged her fellow history classmate and roommate along with her on her adventures of distraction, do instead?

- Spent an hour eating a large breakfast of scrambled eggs and potatoes that were generously piled onto my plate while reading the New York Times

- Went on a two-hour long emergency shopping trip for supplies to put together holiday goodie bags for our lovely suitemates

- Went to the bank and talked to a really cute teller who helped me bring the balance of my checking account back up from the shameful low of $15 and some change


- Drew faces on store-bought gingerbread men and entertained my roommates with anecdotes about the crazy personalities I associated with each unique face

- Delivered goodie bags

- Said good-bye to my extremely lucky, freed-from-the-clutches-of-finals roommate


- Wrote a note for the custodial staff because three days without the awesome-smelling foamy soap in our bathroom was three too many!

- Made fun of some very bad bands with my remaining roommate

- Talked about politics (Clinton or Obama??) and for some odd reason, the Watergate Scandal, with my remaining roommate

- Pulled out my huge rolling duffel and attempted to start packing

- Went to the dining hall to get food even though I was not hungry

- Came back with a lot of candy and a spinach salad as compensation

- Practically recreated one of my history professor's lectures for my roommate and realized that a. I am even more of a history geek than I thought I was and b. I can't talk at the speed I normally do for forty minutes straight because my jaw will hurt afterwards

- Facebook, Facebook, Facebook

- Ate candy, lots of candy

- Laughed my ass off at the ridiculous pose of the January "hot bod" on my roommate's half-naked, buff-guy calendar:


"Hey bay-bee, you in the mood for a pair of GIANT mangoes?"

- Wrote a pointless blog post in list form in between more laughing at the hilarious photo of the oiled body and more Facebooking

I think I win at the "Not-Study Game," Timmy Turner!

The Twelve Days of Fall Quarter (Day Eleven)

On the eleventh day of Christmas my winter break countdown, my true love attentive roommate gave to me...


...eleven pipers piping The Dreamer's Dictionary,


...ten lords a-leaping cute snowmen cupcakes,


... nine ladies dancing finals care package,


... eight maids a-milking goblet full o' sweets,


...seven swans a-swimming DVD study break,


...six geese a-laying missing ink cartridge,


...five golden rings miso for lunch,


...four calling birds hope for an A,


...three French hens big discounts,


...two turtle doves six dollar film,


...and a patridge in a pear tree Naruto posing with me.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Calling Doctor Gray

Ever since I went home for Thanksgiving three weeks ago, my mom has been nagging me about calling Dr. Gray, my orthopedic surgeon, to make an appointment for my six-month follow-up to the surgery consultation I had back in September. He is only in San Francisco for one day of the week, so appointments go quickly.

Because I try not to think about the current state of my spine and what is to come for it in the following months, calling the receptionist of the man who could very well be cutting me open on an operating table and welding my spine together this coming summer is not exactly on the top of my list of priorities. Logically, that makes no sense whatsoever, but in my mind, "the call" resulting in the set-up of yet another follow-up moves me another step closer to the operating table and the week-long stay in a hospital room (assuming all goes well during the operation, of course), and as calm as I have gotten about the situation after freaking the fuck out this summer, I just can't deal with that symbolic push forward right now.

Since I put off calling my doctor for months last summer (yes, months), I had trouble getting an appointment before move-in day and the receptionist definitely had to pull some strings to fit me into his September schedule. My mom freaked out about how much I procrastinated and how close I came to missing my surgery consultation with Dr. Gray because of it, so she has been calling me almost daily to nag, nag, nag, and nag some more about calling to make an appointment for a follow-up during my week home for Spring Break in March.

"How hard is it to pick up the phone and CALL THE DOCTOR?!" My mom exclaimed out of frustration after I told her I still hadn't called on the eleventh nag-call she made to me during her lunch break.

It's pretty damn hard when the consequences of "the call" - another visit to the radiology department of the hospital to get X-rays done where the technicians who probably recognize me by face (if not solely by the grotesque curvature in my spine that they have seen progress so rapidly over the last few years) will undoubtedly gather around my latest batch X-rays to cluck worrisomely while they shake their heads and ask my mother about the doctor's latest prognosis, another trip to the orthopedic surgeon's office in CPMC where I will watch him measure the new degrees of curvature in my spine and shake his head as he approaches me to further discuss my surgery options in his somber voice, another tense silence that will suffocate us on the car ride home from the doctor's office, another round of curl-up-in-a-ball (which might actually be bad for my spine, now that I think about it) and cry-my-eyes-out breakdowns following the revelation of a new batch of not-so-great information by my doctor, and moving yet another step closer to packing my bags for that week-long hospital stay - are all situations that I would very much prefer not to voluntarily subjugate myself to during my one "week of relaxation" between Winter and Spring quarters.

But the stakes on this next appointment were much higher.

"YOU WON'T HAVE INSURANCE NEXT YEAR. HOW WILL WE PAY FOR THE OPERATION IF YOU DON'T CALL TO GET AN APPOINTMENT WITH YOUR DOCTOR THIS INSTANT?!" My mother yelled at me during her latest nag-call.

No insurance and medical bills from a major invasive surgery plus (at least) a week-long stay in the hospital? Definitely not pleasant to think about.

So I called.

And I made the appointment.

The receptionist is sending the requisition for a new batch of X-rays to my house later this week.

After thinking about it constantly last summer, I think I have come to terms with the possibility of having the back surgery done - it is no longer a question of whether I should or should not go through with it. If the doctor does not have good news about some miraculous realignment of the forty-four fucking degree curve on the bottom of my spine that is the candidate for the operation on my next visit and continues to recommend surgery as a good option for me, I think I am going to agree to do it.

I may be out of that agonizing state of limbo, but that doesn't mean I am any less scared out of my wits about what is to come.

The Twelve Days of Fall Quarter (Day Ten)

On the tenth day of Christmas my winter break countdown, my true love super creative suitemates gave to me...


...ten lords a-leaping cute snowmen cupcakes,


... nine ladies dancing finals care package,


... eight maids a-milking goblet full o' sweets,


...seven swans a-swimming DVD study break,


...six geese a-laying missing ink cartridge,


...five golden rings miso for lunch,


...four calling birds hope for an A,


...three French hens big discounts,


...two turtle doves six dollar film,


...and a patridge in a pear tree Naruto posing with me.

Monday, December 10, 2007

The Twelve Days of Fall Quarter (Day Nine)

On the ninth day of Christmas my winter break countdown, my true love extremely thoughtful "Big" gave to me...


... nine ladies dancing finals care package,


... eight maids a-milking goblet full o' sweets,


...seven swans a-swimming DVD study break,


...six geese a-laying missing ink cartridge,


...five golden rings miso for lunch,


...four calling birds hope for an A,


...three French hens big discounts,


...two turtle doves six dollar film,


...and a patridge in a pear tree Naruto posing with me.

What Did I Ever Do to Deserve This? I RECYCLE!

Since I have been so studiously preparing for finals this weekend, more often than not, I was completely surrounded by books, readers, printed articles, and various other paper products designed to aid in the studying process.

Being in such close proximity with such an unusually large number of paper products resulted in an exponential explosion in the inherent risks associated with all-things-paper - namely, PAPER CUTS.

Studying is dangerous, I kid you not.

I don't know if they (the evil paper manufacturers) are making paper edges more razor-sharp nowadays or what, but after three nights of intense studying, both of my hands are covered with minor cuts and scrapes that can all be attributed to the mountains of books and papers strewn across my desk.

I even have a paper cut across the center of my left palm.

If the excruciating sting of liquids coming into contact with the "invisible" tears on the surface of my skin is not convincing enough to rile you up about the physical risks that come with excessive studying, let my newly blood-stained political science reader be a testament to the possible horrors.

That's right - blood-stained reader.

Just as I began the last body paragraph of my political science paper on vegetarianism, I innocently reached over to the reader sitting on my desk in search of a quote I had highlighted in the article about Martin Luther King Jr., and lo and behold, the bottom of the page I was attempting to turn suddenly went on the offensive and somehow managed to come into contact with my left thumb, slicing it right open.

I could literally feel the edge of the paper slicing through the layers of skin on the side of my my thumb.

The next thing I knew, warm blood was beginning to trickle down the side of my hand and splash onto the pages of my open reader.

Luckily, being quite prone to freak accidents like these (the scar from when I somehow managed to cut my leg so badly on the chair I was leaning against in the Library of Congress that blood was literally gushing down my leg is still clearly visible on my right leg), I always keep a supply of bandages nearby.


Unfortunately, the place on my thumb where the sharp edge of my political science reader had slashed through my skin was awkward to bandage, so I was left with a weird cat-like pointy-ness on the sides of my left thumb that made typing efficiently quite difficult to do.


In between all the hoopla that my latest (and most dramatic) run-in with evil-minded paper products created, I completely lost my train of thought for the last body paragraph about MLK and I no longer remember the connection I was about to make between his theories of resistance and vegetarianism.

There was only one body paragraph and a conclusion left before I could celebrate, and I am now completely stuck.

That's just fan-freakin'-tastic.

Damn you, paper cuts!

Why are you out to ruin my life?