"I Was Making a Lasagne! (For One)"

Singing duets with Justin Feit must be one of the best ways to pass a work day. Seriously. I think we could go on tour, but it would make Hannah Montana and Miley Cyrus break up for jealousy. We sat in the team room for about an hour stuffing name tags for SSI singing our creative loosely covered renditions of Flight of the Concords.  Good use of time? Absolutely. My only regret is that Cadi and Kris missed our version of "The Most Beautiful Girl" by about 35 seconds. So that's a bummer. But we enjoyed it, and art is really for the artist most of the time.

"I'm not crying... it's just the rain on my face"

It rained!  And other than standing around watching it pour for 45 minutes, we just admired the after affects of a good rain storm on both the heat and my hair. As the rain fell, my hair grew... just like the grass except exponential curls. Woe.  But that's ok, because it's closer to 70 than 100.  Winners. Except for the person sitting behind me in a theater... Then that sucks.

Remind me, I have an amusing story about answering phones and what you should learn about that.

When You Buy Lemons....

Validation at last!  Just kidding. I've been in a bake-y mood for about a week and finally caved (with the help of Mariecus telling me what to bake, sort of). I made lemon bars!  Delicious? Yes. Duh. But according to our other roommate, Lauren, they are the best thing I've made to date! How do you like that? After zesting a lemon and hand squeezing the necessary juice, I suppose the effort makes a bit of a difference. Or it's just that in this god-forsaken heat wave lemon was the only way to go. I mean, I love chocolate as much as the next person and their chocolate loving friend combined, but lemon bars just sound so cool and refreshing. It has nothing to do with the cup of sugar, or the effort, or the air conditioning. So lemon bars it was (not to say I didn't stock up on chocolate... just in case this baking crave continues).

Between the lemon bars and the super duper pasta I made (with lime juice, rosemary, and spinach) (hey dad, it only needed pine nuts, seriously!), I've been a busy chef.

And other than that, Kris, Justin, and I have been prepping for SSI on SATURDAY. Holy cheezewhiz. This is going to be a whirl. I think I'm either going to blink and it'll be over, or it'll feel like I'm watching the entire week pass from under water. The really slow motion scene in movies where everything is nostalgic and the sun is shining from up above, but nothing feels quite right? I'll let you know if that actually happens, but it's going to be amazing regardless. Holla!

So in anticipation for such a week, I'm going to attempt to get more sleep than usual. Wish me luck.

Reunited and It's All So Right

Your world has just collided with something so epic, it can hardly be comprehended by the interwebs. That's right. The infamous Michelle, of Just a Chef's Daughter and I are inhabiting the same house. (who? what? why? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE MY LIFE SUDDENLY MAKES SENSE!) Yes, I know. The world is a better place now that we have joined our magical decoder rings in a triumphant stance over the things that keep us apart. And the things you have to look forward too: Themed Thursday- actual face to face combat. This is the kind of battle they'll be talking about for centuries. Alamo-no-mo, this is what will be remembered.

But for now, I'll give you the nice little summary of my day.
I worked for the first half, getting things tied up and decent before we all left for our varying levels of adventure (me: exponential, Justin: optional, and Kris: Why is this adventure geared for a younger crowd?). Then I had lunch and packed over another episode of Mad Men, and then loaded up my vehicle (good girl Scarlet) and drove my merry way up to Duluth. Lovely? I think yes. Well, except for that part called the Twin Cities and traffic-that part was unlovely.

Upon arrival, Michelle gave me a quick tour and we immediately went out to pizza (artichoke hearts on a pizza? Good ideas) and galavanted around Downtown Duluth. Seeing things like the lift bridge and walking placidly along the shore of Lake Superior. (I'm told it's superior, but to what? I don't get it...) So despite the scorching heat and the dastardly humidity, we managed to make a good night of it-catching up on all of the stories and generally enjoying life.

Life now makes sense.

The Emperor Has New Clothes!

And that title has nothing to do with this blog post.

I, sadly, don't have anything exciting to report about my life. There have been no escaped convicts, or escaped animals roaming the St. Peter flooded streets. In fact, the streets haven't been flooded at all-unless you consider registration a sort of flood. Then yes, impassibly high waters.

Biggest news: Justin won't admit he's a Hufflepuff. Sad but true.
In other news: No one believes I'm a Hufflepuff. I assume this to mean that I'm wicked good at transfiguration. What up.
But I have my name sewn into all of my clothing. That's an important feature of who I am.

And that's the life and times of what ever you call this. Word.

No, That's Not the Lecture Hall. That's a Mechanical Closet.

Michelle has composed some fighting words including that of "Sass."

And let me say, I can win this and bake cookies at the same time. How do I know? Because I made home made Chocolate Chip Cookies in under 20 minutes today. From scratch. GET AT ME. Yes, that means that I came home, made some bad ass batter, threw those beauties in the oven, and pulled them out in under 20 minutes. Boom. And they were quite delicious (if I do say so myself).

Why the hurry for the cookies. Because I was hungry, don't ask stupid questions. Just kidding. We had our first family dinner tonight! What a delightful time. Over to Cadi's to play with the cats and have some grub and we each brought something. I brought cookies and we had a veggie platter (so healthy) and some chicken and potatoes. Noms ville. And then it was story after story and looking through Cadi's old yearbooks, and Ava rapping, and brainstorming. Just all beautiful things. Now if it wouldn't be so blasted humid everywhere, it would be magnificent. So let's hope that works.

In other news, life's good. I'm a busy little bee and volunteering strangely in unexpected ways to help with registration. And by that I mean that I help the lost looking individuals on campus find their way back to the herd. Or in some instances, show them class rooms in the building I'm in. Nice? You'd better believe it. Good Karma? I sure hope so. Likely to change soon? Sure thing.

Themed Thursday 2: Pants on the Ground

THEMED THURSDAY!!!!

The task this week was to used 500 (ish-I'm an English Major) words to tell the story that begins:

“After class I was sitting in the school bathroom and suddenly, the lights go off.” 

I'm sure Michelle has already finished in true form, so there you have it.

Ready? on your mark, get set, GO.

After class I was sitting in the school bathroom and suddenly, the lights go off. And I’m thinking, ok use problem solving skills, this could mean one of the following things: 1) Moaning Myrtle got crafty and flipped the switch. 2) Someone is going to be awarded the jackass of the day trophy. 3) The power is out due to the torrential storm. 4) My mind powers are working. (not that I was thinking-turn off the lights, but that’s definitely what I was thinking this morning when my mom flipped on the flood lights pointed at my face after my alarm went off. Maybe it’s like some sort of delayed reaction.) (This will require me to also practice seeing into the future…. Poop.)

But the real question is, HOW AWKWARD IS THIS?! Someone/weather gods, literally caught me with my pants around my ankles, and I’m thinking, well, I thought that was a euphemism old men use at Lutheran brunches to make their hunting stories sound adventurous. So now, what do I do? Quite frankly (my dear I don’t give a damn) I am not so familiar with this bathroom. And you know how you usually use the same bathroom around the same time because you naturally develop some sort of pattern to your otherwise chaotic life? Well, I deviated from this pattern and it came back to bite me in the ass.

Maybe I should explain.  There’s a real reason why I’m in the third floor of the library.  And I’m only slightly embarrassed to say that I followed my heart and not my head. Cupid has good aim, and he knows that I’m easily persuaded to do things that look smart, but aren’t. The reason that I came all the way up these stairs is that I found out that the “Plan to be Rich Men of America” meeting goes on here every Thursday. Well, you don’t just chintz on that sort of information, so I put on my smart glasses, a pencil skirt, and a scarf and enough make up to look intellectual, but casual, and curled up on the most prominent study chair reading a work of Russian literature I don’t understand (it was in Russian, ok?). Now this isn’t really an official club on campus, but damn, do they attract the right sorts of men-the kinds I’m interested in. Needless to say, those multiple cups of tea that I brought along with me eventually had to go somewhere other than my bladder.

And that brings you up to speed.

So here are the solutions: 1) play it casual and fumble around in the dark until I find the door, all the while keeping it calm, cool, and collected. 2) Scream for help and hope that one of the most attractive men of the PRMA comes to my rescue. 3) Take a nap (don’t judge me). 4) Draw enough attention to myself so that someone else has a good blog post to write.

Which do you think I actually did?

The Tragic End of Smokey Twlight-the Bear from Bath and Bodyworks

When it rains, it indeed does pour. Holy cats and dogs of the thunderheads. And I'm the kind of person who gladly frolics in the rain when the opportunity presents itself, but you'd better be packing scuba gear for this kind of storm. We're talking more than cats and dogs falling from the sky, this is a whole zoo and a wildlife sanctuary on top of it. Seriously. We don't have vast windows in our apartment, and due to being at the end of the hall there's this funny little alcove thing that basically keeps our room hidden from everything except the bicycle rack, and it was serious business watching this storm blow in. Bring your poncho and your hip waders, you are going to get wet.

Which brings me to the point where I have to go out in this downpour. [Note: part of the following paragraph with be overly dramatic. Please read accordingly]. Remember the dog sitting gig? Oh yeah, well there's one more pooping party to go for the day, and it's to the point in this storm that I'm thinking, "Hmmm...the benefits of getting drenched.  I could walk over there.. that way it wouldn't matter if I got wet taking the dog out. Or I could drive the block and a half and attempt to save a few square inches of clothing to wipe the rainwater from my eyes by the time I get back. I opted for the drive and a miracle.

This is the point in the story where God took pity on me and said, ok fine, but you'd better be nice. So the rain slowed to a more realistic thunderstorm pace and I took the dog outside. Nothing too exciting there except I still got wet and it's a good thing I wore flip flops instead of real shoes.

Now for the tragic scene. Since there was just no feasible way to get any suitable dog exercise in the house, Rudy did something unforgivable. She slaughtered the closest bear. Not a real bear, but in the imaginations of the children this could have been the most ferocious bear in all of Yellowstone. But alas, this smallish dog really go the better of him this time. I heard this strange noise coming from the sun room. And not sure where the lights were, I looked to see Rudy, in ready-to-play position, stuffed animal between her front paws. Oh. No. Uh.... "Rudy...(warning tone)" and this escalates into me running around the house trying to convince the dog that this bear was not in fact a dog toy, and rather should have belonged to me. Time elapse cameras would show something a long the lines of a blur of two figure running after each other followed by extremely intense staring contests.  After several minutes, I managed to distract her long enough to rescue the now deflated carcass of the once pleasantly huggable bear. Poor Smokey. Just not a good day. I do hope that this hasn't crushed the dreams of the youngins of the household.

The moral of this story is don't leave your shit where it doesn't belong.

Or what I'm going to take from it.

It's a Straight Line

Oh the adventures you'll have! And Iowa is no different.

Damnit, I'm already lying in this post. No good. Ok, deep breath, try again.

Let's start from the beginning. Quick version is I made it all the way to St. Pete from KC and had to drive through Iowa to get here. For those of you with Reader's Digest appetites, that was a quick meal. Happy to oblige. Now for the rest of you voracious readers (get it? It rhymes with eaters...  which is a continuation of the digest pun... oh never mind.)

So after I woke up, I'm sure you all will be relieved to know that I finished the first season of Mad Men. It was concerning, I know, but I managed to squeeze in that one last episode before I threw everything in the car and bolted.

Side note, I am forever glad that I make badass playlists. That's the only way this car ride works. And I loudly sand to Gina and Daniele's album. Forgot about them? I never do. Amazing. Always.

I have decided that instead of telling you about the trip (well there's not a lot to say) I thought I would play the license plate game a la blog. This involves me telling you things about what I've done in each state listed. (I probably forgot one or two, but this is most of the ones I saw). I'll include either a fun fact, short story (of the shortest variety), or what happened while driving through said state today. It should make this a little more entertaining.

Kansas: My high school was on the Missouri side of the state line between MO and KS. Consequently, there were lots of people who lived in KS instead. It also meant that for every day of HS, I was in two states at some point during the day.

Louisiana: I've never been here. Anyone want to go?

Minnesota: When MNers tell me where they are from, I often tune out and insert the words "The Cities" instead of whatever town they actually say. Offensive? Maybe. Also, Cadi maybe on to something with the MN driver thing. Iowans may not like to turn on their lights, but MN people make U-turns from wrong lanes, in native lands. Seriously, didn't have any "Let's call the police with their license plate number" moments until I hit the MN border. Scary.

Illinois: Last year, I think I was in IL 4 times over the course of the season. If you like math, that's about 9 hours from MN each way. So 72 hours traveling back and forth from IL, suits in tow. Only one of those times did we actually get stopped in somewhere other than our destination for the night.

Tennessee:I remember going to Nashville for something, and staying in what was impressed upon me as a very cool hotel, but I don't remember anything but the atrium and the abundance of shrubbery.

Missouri: I live there. Uh, that's a fun fact right?

Utah: I went to Park City the summer after the Olympics and there are two things that I would like to bring up. 1) The ski/beret hat that I bought, and still wear. And 2) one of my favorite bookstores of all time is called Dolly's-right near the condo we stayed in. They have several cats in the store and one of them likes to sit by the cash register and greet the masses.

Michigan: Been there. Done that. Know lots of people who live there. I hear Karaoke is a smash #lovefest.

Nebraska: Ah, what isn't to love about Nebraska? Phil says that it's the greatest, minus Rupert of course. I think there are so many stories to be told about Nebraska. To, from, there. Just all of it. AFA 2011.

Arkansas: So one of my favorite people of all time grew up there and still has a fondness for the place, it must be ok. I went once. I remember driving around really curvy roads and looking through really dorky/nerdy brochures about some "paths of Clinton" or something like that... Yup, that's what I've got.

Iowa: I considered leaving this one blank for emphasis. But since I spent so much of my day slogging through it, I thought I would at least try. First of all: It only rains in Iowa. Sure it looked cloudy all day, but it didn't start raining until the minute I crossed the boarder. Boo that. Second: What's worse than Iowa? Iowa when it's raining. Third: Iowa, in an attempt to get back at me for verbally bashing her decided to play this game. It's called, make sure you can only ever pay attention to your windshield wipers game. Sound like fun? Here's how you play. When it's only sprinkling, you put on the wipers on a nice slow tick-tock pace. But by the time you set that, there's this torrential down pour when no matter how fast your wipers are going you still can't see the road in front of you. Then it's sprinkling again and you still can't see the road because of how fast your wipers are going (blur much?). Repeat process. The worst. And lastly, I had the pleasure of stopping in Story City for gas. Jealous? I expected as much. But it's just like St. Peter!!!!  Well, minus the sign that said, "Story to tell." But there was a Happy Chef, and a gas station, and an RV sales lot.. Ok that last one is not like SP, but you get the point. Two Happy Chef sightings in a day? How delicious is that? Mayhaps not, but I was looking for anything to make Iowa sound exciting.

And that's my life. All of it. I'm zonked, so I'm peacin out for the night. Work in the morning-bound to be an adventure.

Mistress Minnesota

Who decided that living in Minnesota was a good thing? I've just gotten back from a beautiful time abroad in a lovely temperate climate and been lucky enough to go to Texas for a weekend, and suddenly mistress Minnesota gets jealous and turns to ice. How rude. And it's not even the frozen water kind of ice we're talking about here, it's just the kind of cold where without having any congestion what do ever your sinuses feel like the a time bomb. And when the inside of your skull freezes, you know it's a bit chilly. And now that it has snowed several inches I had the lovely reminder of the Gustavus snow management. Yippee.

The basic summary of that paragraph rant is that mistress MN is having her rotten revenge with me. What a cruel world.

In other, potentially more interesting news, the most recent tournament, that of Hell Froze Over, went splendidly. It feels wonderful to be back in the loving black book cradling/VA toting arms of the forensics community. What stunning people. And, the other good thing is that I have the opportunity to travel with these stars for the rest of the semester. Be jealous.

Make banana pancakes-pretend like it's the weekend

Let's talk for a moment about how flipping pretty Rome is when you're not bathing in your own sweat.  It's actually b-e-a-u-tiful.  For serious. Example: It was only in the 70s today and that means wearing things like jeans and boots! It also means things like my hair doesn't have to be piled on top of my head and away from my neck. If it was up to some people I would have a Barbie ponytail at all times, and it would be curly and funny and potentially very distracting (to both me and the people sitting behind me in class).  But that's all besides the point. I finally got to wear things that I would like to wear to class rather than scrounging for things that don't need sleeves, or could just do without sleeves until I sew them back on later (I brought a sewing kit, whatevs) (that one is for you Cadi).

After a lovely walk to school at the G campus, I spent a lovely two hours watching a movie in my Italian Cinema class (still no real recommendations? I'm disappointed in all of you. Come on people.  Bethany is the only one on my solid gold list. Digipho for the win. And potentially my mother with her recommendation for Greek Art and Archaeology: Gaga.) and loving all of it. I mean what other kinds of class can you possibly take that allow you to sit for two hours and watch a movie EVERY OTHER CLASS.  That's one a week. And the other one you only have to attend half of because it's just a discussion. Winner.

After class I leisurely walked to the grocery store because I was hard up for some grub. This meandering involved me listening to Jack Johnson and enjoying the light crisp breeze and the sunshine.  Do you envy me yet? You green with it! (Mike Wazowski!) (For those of you who followed that, we're best friends now). So I shopped, didn't make a fool of myself (it's hard, but actually possible) bought another I Puffi glass (We're going to see it this weekend. Fact.) and toted my newly purchased foodstuffs all the way home. Wee Wee Wee. It was a good time.

Made some lunch. At the recommendation of Michelle I made a grilled mozzarella and tomato sandwich.  Very good.  May need something else to it, but I'm content with how good it was for the moment. Talked to some beautiful people from home.  Missing them hardcore. And read a little bit of Philosophy. Actually reading Philosophy is not quite as conducive to dreaming of Moua as class.  But I tried. Watched Down With Love with Erica and Kate (Molly will attest to how adorable we were on the couch), and finally making dinner for Erica and myself. (Just going to say it, my red sauce is going to be perfected by the end of this semester. I'm throwing down the gauntlet now-Bring it Mc Saucyson!)

And now I'm giving up and going to bed. The End.

Blissfully Breezy

The sad truth of this post is that it has absolutely no chance at being as amusing as the last two (count them, two). And that estranged fact makes me feel blue. Blue like a rainy day.

WHICH IT WAS.

Segue! Holla! Check this out. So apparently last night there was this gargantuan thunderstorm.  We're talking the kind that wakes people up and they all converge in corners the next day to talk about their individual trials with that one specific storm.  This girl, however, had no idea it even rained. Whether that is a testament to my incredible sleeping skills, my up bringing a la tornado alley that makes thunderstorms seem like a small gold fish compared to the siren wailing Oz suckers we can get, or simply that I am usually so enveloped in some wacky dream to pay attention to the real world remains to be seen.  The point of the story is that I can sleep through anything I set my mind to.  Real champions sleep through storms.

Anyway, that 'mega storm' made the temperature of Rome much more palatable today. And that is a miracle. After about 3 weeks of 90+ weather, and only really having layered clothing to deal with makes this now clean 60 degree breeze blowing through the windows right now down right glorious. It feels like fall at last! (knock on wood. I want it to stick around) The only trouble with this new found breeze is that it has the propensity to blow our nearly secure lights from side to side at dangerous looking angles. Not nice. But kind of fun in a daring sort of way.

I had my full regimen of classes today, including Digi Phot (I'm using it until someone gives me something better. You all are slackers). Now in Digi Phot (see, just going to keep doing it) we spent the first hour out taking pictures. Now you're thinking, Hey, I want to take a Digi Phot class!  I want to spend an hour outside taking pictures! But the deal is that we went to an out door market, and this always makes one very hungry.  And breakfast just wasn't as filling as it could have been.... and you have one euro. Suddenly not so fun. But it was still pretty sweet. Then we spent the last two hours of that class looking at the pictures we took and talking about ways to edit them.

Other class, followed by the class where I dream of Moua, and then finally home. This makes me realize that I desperately need to go grocery shopping. Desperately. So on tomorrow's to-do list there is FIND FOOD/SCAVENGE in very large letters. I'm not sure how that's going to turn out... but hopefully I'll find something to eat tomorrow. Wish me luck.

ALSO: The letter situation is a solid green light. No more hoping and praying, just a little bit o time. Today I have heard news that my postcards have reached GAC (I <3 BS, and sent a post card that said so), and I have received mail from GAC (Go Alecia go!).  All systems go. I'm willing to spend the 1.60 euros on the people who are willing to spend the $ 0.98 to write me. And no that's not an equivalent amount. Just so you know.