I’ve been wanting to rant about everything in school that I have to do, but it seemed to negative to really put up here. When I made this blog, I had my heart set on just letting it be another outlet for negativity. It was supposed to be progressive, or at least theraputic.
However, it hadn’t really been quelled, so I’ve felt pretty stuck here. I decided not to really look at my workload in a pessimistic way, but writing it down in a way of acknowledging it. You can’t really be too scared of something if you look at it straight on. I think someone slightly older and a lot wiser told me something like that.
For my final project I decided to make stencil photograms. I haven’t stenciled in awhile, but getting back into it isn’t too hard and I’m not too worried about this project, other than what the teacher thinks, because Danny the TA was all over figuring out a fool proof way of doing this. I still have to make all the images though…
cut out stencils – this can be done during other class, especially Robotics or during morning Photo or even Western Art.
Get more 8×10 paper
print, print, print
Senior expo went really well, although my project was embarrassing. I think I’m going to lower my scope of my project, because it seems a lot cooler to have it just be a disco in a jar, with a snail or something, rather than the audio thing.
research if you can do this to a snail without killing it
This was never really a problem for me as my father, whose skills at cooking exceed most modern men, was the one to prepare all the meals in the house when I was growing up. (I much more take after my mother, whose repertoire includes ordering pizza and heating tv-dinners.)
This luxurious lifestyle continued up to when I went away to school, where I had access to a dining center that gradually decreased in deliciousness as the year dragged on and a 24 hour Subway right below my residence. I remember ordering a sandwich there at 3 am, when everything else on campus that I could use my card at was closed, and enlisting the help of two very pleasant and very intoxicated gentlemen (dubbed in legend as ‘sandwhich angels’) who knew what was up, as far as deliciousness went.
My boyfriend and my best friend still often cook for me, and when that doesn’t happen, I always have the option of buying food or scalding the roof of my mouth with a LeanPocket. I know this isn’t very healthy, and recently I’ve been getting more than a few suggestions from my friends if they could ‘teach’ me how to cook. Getting the hint, I attempted to make a simple breakfast of eggs and tea for myself yesterday.
This meal consisted of:
Eggs – I had four, even though I only showed one
Green Tea – I found a box of this tea on the ground, walking back to the house one day. It was still sealed, so I didn’t think it was poison.
Ben’s Fork – which neurotically has ‘BW’ written on a patch of tape he puts around all his utensils.
A Plate – stolen for me by a worker at a hotel that my parents and I stayed at, who died earlier this year because of an aneurism.
A Mug – from my mother’s over-populated mug collection.
Don’t worry, my cookbook of equally complicated and delicious treats is sure to come out soon.