>
From Vesper….

I AM: Happy and relaxed for the first time in ages.
I WANT: To know what’s happening to me in the next year or so.
I WISH: That everyone in the world could put things in perspective and just relax.
I HATE: Getting blasted by hot water in the shower.
I MISS: Having a roommate.
I FEAR: Getting stuck and not realizing it until it’s too late.
I HEAR: My tap dripping…darn it.
I WONDER: When I will finish my thesis and if it will be awful.
I REGRET: Absolutely nothing. The crap builds character.
I AM NOT: Athletic. Not even in the slightest.
I DANCE: Everyday and often in a towel. Scares the crap out of the cat.
I SING: Not as often as I’d like to.
I CRY: Too much over stupid stuff.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: Right. Indeed, I am rarely right.
I MAKE: A mean vegan brownie.
I WRITE: Often. On the blog, in my diary…oh yes and that ridiculous thesis thing.
I CONFUSE: Left and Right.
I NEED: Nothing.
I SHOULD: Get over stuff quicker.
I START: My day whenever I please now.
I FINISH: My undergrad in less than a month. Help!
I TAG: Anyone who got to the end of this.

>

I have just spent the last three hours reading (and finishing) a novel (“Agnes Grey” by Anne Bronte – I have finally read all Bronte novels) with my favourite cat resting on my chest. The sun is shining, I have a bag of pistachios next to me….life is very good.

>
….when offered the choice between an ‘A’ on a paper and sleep, you pick the A.

Good god, but I am tired.

>
I was reading Vesper’s blog and it reminded me of my past fourteen years of customer experience….it also reminded of the unfortunate fact that I will have to return to customer service shortly (because let’s face it, a political science degree, even one with a shiny ‘h’ tagged on, ain’t going to get me far). While reminiscing, I thought about all of the crazy things that were returned to me at my last job by looney bin customers:

1) Shampoo because “it’s broken”. Granted, shampoo can sometimes suck and perhaps you should return it when it does, but shampoo cannot be “broken”. And even if it could be, why did it take you 3/4 of a bottle to figure that out?

2) Dental Floss, again because it was “broken”.

3) Used breast pump with breastmilk still in it. A lot of breastmilk. I mean there is a baby out there somewhere who missed out on lunch and dinner. No receipt.

4) Half a tube of lipstick because it was the “wrong colour”. Again, this I get but why did it take you half the tube to figure this out? Did you try it with every single outfit? No receipt.

and my all time favourite:

5) Three packages of used razor blades (30 razors) that were apparently all used when she went to open the packages. Woman calls the store, says she was in earlier and picked up THREE bags of 10 razors. Says that she didn’t notice until she got home that all THREE bags were opened and all THIRTY razors were used. As I’m choking back the laughter I ask “well, do you have the receipt?” “OF COURSE I dont’ have the receipt!” she replies indignantly, “they’re RAZORS”.

Sigh.

>
I have a blueberry muffin addiction. But not just any blueberry muffin. “Just Us” blueberry muffins. I tried to save money by baking my own – no. I tried to save money by purchasing muffins at the grocery store – no. And I tried to save money by purchasing muffins from Timmy’s – no. Nope, I need the ridiculously over-priced (yet organic) blueberry muffins from “Just Us”. Need is probably the wrong word. I mean I won’t DIE without them. But my morning feels all wrong.

I’m in class right now (ah the joys of a wireless classroom…). Talking about communist China. And all I can think about is whether or not I can leave and purchase my blueberry muffin and get back in time to make it look like I just went to the washroom. I don’t think it’s possible. Sigh.

*note: If you do not know who the above character is, you had a deprived childhood.

>
What, I ask you, did people DO before there was earl grey tea? Seriously. Nothing is more comforting than a cup of EG when you’re sick.

And I’m sick.

I’m convinced that there is a cold conspiracy. I think colds get together (with the bacterial infections and the viruses) at conferences each term and map out my timetable. Then they are each assigned a time to attack me, generally right before a paper is due. But not the night before, not when I could get a note to excuse it. Always the week before when I’m trying to concentrate on research.

Boo.

>

>

I am sure of the following:

1) I am getting stupider by the day.

2) There is a special place in hell reserved for thesis advisors. Even the nice ones.

3) Just Us coffee shop is slipping me decaf.

Goddamnit.

>
First we eat, then we do everything else. — MFK Fisher

The Gourmet Girl is a Foodie with a capital F. All her activities seem to revolve around food, even when she’s on vacation. She’d prefer to be mushroom hunting, sampling the wine country, or making a culinary tour of the South of France with the Michelin restaurant guide tucked under her arm. Or she might just rent a villa and spend the entire time in the kitchen, cooking elaborate dinners for friends and family.

Here’s the key to the Gourmet Girl: she’s a connoisseur. She appreciates the finer things, and she’ll gladly pay more for them. She will shell out $1.59 for a blood orange instead of 69 cents for the navel variety, and it’s not because they are fancier and more expensive. She doesn’t care about status or prestige. For the Gourmet Girl, it’s all about quality. She selects cars and clothes — anything she buys — based on how well they are made. While the Uptown Girl may sleep on high-thread-count, all-cotton sheets simply because she always has, the Gourmet Girl does it because, like The Princess and the Pea, she can feel the difference.

(Got this queiz from vesper…can’t find link to it now though (wait…ah yes thanks radmama). Ah well. This is apparently me. Now, anyone who really knows me is aware of the fact that cooking is not my strong suit…indeed, it is my weakest suit. However, the appreciation and love of food is what makes this little profile so very me)

>
I’m quite bloggy today. Check this nonsense out.