Let's Chat

Long time no see! No really, though. I haven't blogged in forever.

But sitting on my warm and cozy couch and cuddled up next to Gary, I have found the inspiration to type up what's been going down in the ever-interesting life of moi. Oh I just threw some French on that. BOOM.

Where to start? Well how about the obvious?

Merry Christmas/ Happy Hanukkah/ Happy Kwanzaa/ Whatever.
I'm trying to be neutral here, but in this house we run Christmas like a well-oiled machine.  I really do love Christmas.  Getting my crazy family together is a guaranteed good time.  If I could only tell you the stories of my Christmas pasts...

I ate so much freaking food.  In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I gained about 1,000 pounds.  I had to roll out of my aunt's house.  I was so full that I was in pain. #firstworldproblems.  I got some pretty neat stuff, too.  A nice pair of Birkenstocks, always top fashion in Ithaca, some fuzzy socks, clothes, some college stuff, and a cake pop maker.

Oh yes, I can't lie about this.

Lollipops - but made of cake. Woah nelly.
[via glutenfreediva]

Guys. Guys. I love to make cake. Cake LOLLIPOPS. Kill me. Kill me softly. Because I don't even know what I'm going to do with my life anymore.  The possibilities of cake balls on sticks are endless. Infinite.  Let the brainstorming begin.  I already have about fifty-two billion ideas...

Guess What. I'm an RA.
Somehow, the lovely ladies and gents at Ithaca's Res Life thought I would be the best little Resident Assistant they've ever seen. And by golly I think they were right. I start training on January 13th, which means that I will make my third freaking move of the year. My dad hates me.  I kid, but I have made an enemy since these moves began - my refrigerator company. Oh yes, children.  I call them up and tell them that I'm moving yet again and this is how the conversation goes:

Me: Hello! Good morning/afternoon! I'm just calling to let you guys know that I'll be moving this semester, and I'll be taking my refrigerator with me.
Lady at the fridge company: [Wheezy New Jersey accent] Ugh, alright. Hang on a sec.
Me: Sure thing!
[ten minutes pass]
Lady at the fridge company: Okay, what's your name and where are you moving to?
Me: Well, my name's Eve [last name] and I'm moving to [third address of the freaking year].
Lady: Well it looks like you've already called about you moving twice already. Are you really moving again or is this a joke?
Me: No I'm not joking, I just want to keep the records updated. I'm not quite sure why anyone would prank call a refrigerator leasing company, but okay.
Lady: You're all set...again. Have a nice day, I guess.
Me: You too.


So after I talked to the stupid fridge people, I took care of other things such as enjoying my life.  I packed up most of my room before I left for winter break, so moving this time should be pretty easy. In fact, we've gotten pretty good at doing this. Perhaps my dad and I should open a moving business...dare to dream.

*A Father, His Awesome Daughter, and a Nifty Truck
[via twomenandatruck.com]

With being an RA, I have to do those things that make your little floor look so cute. You know what I'm talking about. Door tags, bulletin boards, floor programs, the whole nine yards.  Guess what, my door tags have already been approved and holy toledo I'm a little too excited.  You know me and my unique sense of humor.  So you know that my door tags are going to be awesome.  And the last thing I want to do is disappoint.  What do you think: Despicable Me Minions. Yes? No? Oh hell yes guurl marry me? I choose the third, myself.

They're going to look so cute, I can't handle it.
[via g4tv]

I also have to come up with ideas for the bulletin boards and floor programs.  So here's one of the only times you will see/read me begging.  No one ever comments on my blog, which is fine.  But here's the dealio: I have extremely creative friends.  So, here's what I'm asking - if you have an awesome idea for me, for the love of Jesus tell me.  I'll pay you in Cake Pops. Any flavor you like.

On top of being a spring RA, I'll also be doing some research with a professor.  I'll be working with some little fishies to see how the liquid fracking components affect fish hatching and survival.  Pretty neat stuff, considering that Ithaca is like the anti-fracking capital of the world.

See y'all in the lab!
[via sickgoldfishcare]

So, come January 13th, my life will probably be the craziest it'll ever be. Except when the weird stuff goes down at the job I work at, but those are two different kinds of crazy.  Looking forward to the roller coaster ahead of me.

What's New?

Why hello!

I thought Ithaca was going to escape the doom and gloom of winter...I was severely wrong. It's been so nice out lately.  The sun has graced us with her lovely presence and for the first time in Ithaca history, I still can't see my breath. And it's November. By now, Ithaca is 10km underneath a newly-formed glacial mass. Students begin their transfer applications to the University of Miami, and a scalding hot cup of coffee is your only motivation to arise out of the cocoon you call your bed.

If they sold these in Twin XL size, that company would be eating filet mignon 24/7.
[via kidshaus]

But it's nice still. And for that I am happy. It isn't lasting for long. And being the environmentalist I am, I know why it's so nice out right now, which makes me sad.  But I also know what we're in for. And let's just say that I've already emailed those baby cocoon people asking for a larger size.

Like all good things, this blip of good weather in the sonar of the sad and cold ocean must come to an end. I just tried to make a fishing metaphor. I might have failed. In any case, it was wonderful while it lasted. If only I could have worn my sunglasses throughout this time...which brings me to my next point.

Have you ever had a sty? If you don't even know what that is, then you've never had one. But let me tell you, styes and I are besties. But it's more like styes love me and I hate styes. They really suck. They're painful. Styes have caused me to spill gallons of detergent on my dorm room floor. Styes have made me go see an opthamologist only to be told to slap a hot tea bag on it. We live in the technological age where anything is possible! Medical advances are being made every single day, and the best treatment for these things is a tea bag?

Me every night.
[via practicalglamour]

And that's how it's been for year now.  Every month or two, a stye and six of his friends would party it up in my eye and then leave after two or three days.  But this time is different. It's like this stye started partying and once the drugs wore off, he took a little look around and liked what he saw.  He liked what he saw and he wanted to stay.  For the past two weeks, this thing has deceptively gotten better, then turned for the worse.  Right now, we're on a downward spiral.  My eyelid has a nice, hard lump on it.  For those of you interested in medicine, google chalazion.  That's what it is, folks.

So, this new enemy and I duke it out.  I went to the health center and now I have an appointment with an opthamologist.  In fact, the very same one that I saw a year ago and sent me away.  This time, there shall be no sending away.  I'm going in for a consult and I'm finishing this.  My eye shant be a frat house where styes can just take a load off. Nay.  Find another victim.

I would like to take some time now to discuss my college's health center with y'all. It looks like any other outdated building on campus, with the wood paneling on the walls, pamphlets about every single disease known to man (as well as a pamphlet on hookahs...), and the uncomfortable leather-esque furniture that can be easily cleaned with a Clorox wipe in case a youth decides to chunder.

Also, it looks slightly like an all-women's prison. Just throwing that out there.
[via ithaca.edu]

But here's where it got weird.  All of those things should be expected of any college health center. But one thing should not. And that, my friends, is the music. You walk into a health center and are serenaded by the soft symphonies of coughing. Perhaps the ringing phones offer the beat by which the flu victims can cough to. If you're lucky, you might even hear the terrible elevator music overhead.  But no. Oh no. This is where I was thrown aback. Because after I checked in with my Quasi eye, I sat down. It was then that it truly registered. I listened in and heard autotunes and a synthetic drum beat. While everyone was dying around me, Bruno Mars was singing us away. I kid you not. Perhaps it was a fluke. I listened further only to discover that they had a hip play list filled with club beats and dance tunes. Bruno Mars, then Drake, then some other dude who relies on machines to make his voice sound good. It was one rapper after the other.

"Feel better kids. Also, the new album comes out on the fifteenth!" --Actual quote from Mr. Mars
[va idolator]

Which brings me to my question of the day. Who in their right mind plays rap music in a health facility? It's so out of place! Ridiculous. Blasphemy. Auto tune mixed with coughing does not bring a smile to my face. In face, it brings an upside down smile, more commonly known as a frown, to my face. Sadness washed over me like saturated fat on an artery.

Update: I did go see the eye man a week ago and he shot some roids into my eye. That was fun. Also, I'm on meds and flaxseed oil. I'm not sure if you've ever taken flaxseed oil pills, but woah nelly are they a doozy. 

This is actually to scale.
[via profimedia]

It's a sad day in the neighborhood. But in the end, everything works itself out. Even if I have choked on those mammoth pills more than once. Egads.

Rough Start? Check. Overcoming it? Check.

Words cannot even begin to describe these past months.

Let me tell you, children, there is a reason why I haven't had time to sit and breathe, let alone blog. 

I don't even have time right now, but I love you all and I feel like this might cheer you up.  Or not.  It might make you sad.  Whichever, I hope to spark some form of emotion with this post.  It's going to be a long one, so fasten your seatbelts.  After all, it's been over a month.

Getting back into the swing of things, I sincerely regret my decision to major in a science.  Like I said before, science is my thing.  But I wish it wasn't...it's so difficult sometimes.  Like, I want to rip my hair out and walk around campus with bald patches because I have so much homework due tomorrow difficult.  And not to sound conceited, but I'm not the dullest tool in the shed if you know what I mean.

That is, when it comes to books.  Throw my ass in the streets and you better have an obituary pre-written.

"She didn't last an hour..."
[blogspot]

I love bacon too.  I couldn't resist...

For real though.  On top of the massive workload I'm beginning to receive, there is a myriad of reasons as to why these past few months have been pretty rough.  Oh and midterm grades come out tonight.  My nails...are chewed to the cuticle.

ALAS.

Moving on.  Mind you, nothing on here will be discussed in detail.  However, I will discuss some of it.  Public blogs aren't the best place to vent about things other than school and food.  Just so we're clear on that.

I live alone on campus now.  In fact, I'm in a completely different building.  I've been in a single for just a little over a month now, and it's nice.  Sometimes I miss having a roommate, having someone to talk to before you go to sleep, splitting grocery costs, just little stuff.  In the end though, living alone has definitely done me a lot of good.  Getting to the place I'm in now is a completely different story, however.  It's not the prettiest one either.

But I'm all good now.  The wave of confusion and borderline depression has ebbed.

Goodbye, wave of destruction!
[via blogspot]

I feel like I've lost a very dear friend of mine.  And trust me when I say that it hurts. It always hurts when you feel like you can't repair a friendship.  It hurts to try and realize that the other person doesn't want to be in your life anymore.

What's done is done.  There's nothing I can do to change it; it's out of my control.

Anyway. Like I said before, I'm in a new building.  The walk isn't nearly as bad and the people on my floor are incredible.  Seriously, if anything good came out of my situation it's that I got the opportunity to live in a community. A place where people care about you, where you can knock on someone's door and be welcomed, a place to be happy in.  I didn't have that until now.  I'm in the international dorm now. Let me tell you something, people: international students are the nicest out there.

Seriously.  It's Hug-Fest 2011 in that building.  It's so refreshing to be surrounded by people that are nice and good.  It's like living in the world of Full House.  But you only have Danny Tanner.

ALL DAY EVERY DAY. LET'S GO.
[via blogspot]

In all seriousness, I have learned (and continue to learn) things about myself as a result of living alone.  I'm coming to realize that I'm a pretty cool lady.  I'm pretty smart, I'm obviously the love child of Paula Deen and Antoine Dodson (butter and sass 24/7, baby), I'm not the ugliest out there, and I'm a really good friend (at least I like to think so. I would love for someone to tell me otherwise.).

And with this new sense of self comes its own challenges.  But for right now, everything is settling down.  I'm living in a much better place.  I'm starting to realize who I am and what I want out of life.  I hope you're happy for me. I'm happy for me.

But a lot has gone down in these past months.  I've been to places and I've made a crapload of food. I didn't take pictures of the food though, I apologize.  Use your imagination. Or Google.  It's the same in today's society.

Let's see.  Cooking wise, I've made:


Rainbow Cupcakes: I love making these, but they're starting to get old.  It seems like every time I whip up a cupcake, it just has to be frosted like this.  However, they are consistent crowd pleasers. Everyone asks how it's done and I always end up convincing someone I'm a wizard.  Because I am.

Apple Pie/Fritters/Sauce/Crisp/Plain Ol' Apple: A while back a few friends and I went apple picking.  It's always been a family tradition for me to bake everything apple related the same day.  I made fritters (so effing delicious), sauce, and a pie. Seriously, apple pie is so awesome.  It just screams Fall.  It's when I know to embrace the changing leaves.

Made by my hands. Oh yes.

Chicken Riggies/Non-Chicken Riggies: Simple and wonderful.  I think everyone reading this knows how I feel about chicken riggies.  It's one of my comfort foods.  I made it twice in one week.  Currently taking a break from it...riggie overload.

Attempted-Fried-Ice-Cream-Turned-Failed-Mission-Turned-One-Slightly-Successful-Gluten-Free-Fried-Ice-Cream

BREATHE. JUST BREATHE.
[via miller-mccune]

Fruit Salsa/Food of the Gods: All it's made of is chopped fruit.  Seriously, take strawberries, pineapple, kiwi and cantaloupe and chop it.  Chop it until your heart is satisfied.  Add in some honey and sugar for good measure.  The fruit takes care of the juice on its own.  Oh my goodness I'm thinking about it again...so delicious.  Cinnamon sugar pita chips are definitely the best scooper for this salsa.  It is fruit perfection.

I think that's all the food I've made thus far.  I know I'm forgetting stuff.  The joys of not remembering things...

Oh I made creme brulee too. And crab cakes.  Just remembered those.

They'll pop up randomly during the rest of this post, don't you fret.

Aside from living in my dorm kitchen, I took a little trippy down to my favorite city of all.

Washington, D.C.


Oh how I love you. How I would live in you if I had the chance.  If only...

I went to Georgetown Cupcakes.

I peed myself in Georgetown Cupcakes. Because I was in cupcake heaven.  I left with 6 and an empty wallet.  But I left happy, damn it.  I walked everywhere in DC.  Literally, miles a day.

We went to Filomena, a restaurant I saw whilst watching ze Travel Channel.  They show those restaurants for a reason.  We went and holy chicken tenders was the food delicious.

I kid you not. I got the holy grail of seafood pasta dishes.  Are you ready for this? ARE YOU READY? Like it or not, I'm going to describe it.  Grab the nearest napkin and buckle up.  We're heading into Drooltown.  Picture this: black pasta (oh yes) in manicotti form.  What's filling this pasta, you ask?  Why, only shrimp, crab, scallops, mozzarella and ricotta.  That's all.  It's nothing special really.  Except for the whole covered-in-lobster-cream-sauce thing.  I basically ate the ocean for lunch.  And it was beyond delicious.  BEYOND. I dream about it sometimes. Four to seven times a week, in fact.  That's normal, right?

Aside from the incredible food, I went to DC with a purpose.  Ten other students and myself from our college's anti-genocide club went to a conference on Saturday and Sunday.  They were jam packed with mini croissants, breakout sessions involving today's critical issues regarding genocide, box lunches with Clif Bars included (hell yes), and leaders and students from around the world.  It was an incredible experience.  I learned so much and gained more knowledge by some of the world's leading anti-genocide figureheads.

I wish I took pictures of the conference.  Living with regret.  Let me tell you, if you ever get the opportunity to do something like I did, DO IT.  It was awesome.  I'm really glad it's an annual thing, I plan on attending...annually.

That Sunday, we had the rest of the day to ourselves.  A bunch of us walked around the city, taking in everything.  We went to the US Botanic Gardens.  Lucy had a field day.

I really love Lucy and her capabilities. We went to the Museum of Natural History.  That was pretty neato, let me tell you.

I did a bunch of things in DC.  At the end of each day, though we would go back to my lovely cousin's house and relax.  They're awesome and I'm so grateful that we could stay with them. And use their kitchen for our own culinary desires...

But my trip has ended and snow has begun to creep its way into my life for another nine to ten miserable months.  From here on in it's all about physics, chemistry, keeping warm and keeping sane.  But isn't life always about those things?

Also, a random thought that sincerely confuses me: why do people wear hoods halfway on their head?

[via 123rf]

Either commit to the whole thing or not at all. There's no in-between.

Brain Status: Liquified.

Let me tell you something, people.  I forgot how damn hard college is.  When it's summer time, all you think of is the fun times in college.  You know, the leaves falling on the quad, you laying in the grass catching some rays, laughing with professors in class.

Ah socialization.

I love what I do in college.  I love where it's going to take me.  I love science, I really do.  But sometimes (most of the time, let's be honest here), I wish I loved easier subjects.  Holy hamburgers.

I'm majoring in Environmental Science and also doing the Pre-Med track.  So for those of you who don't know the extent of how horrific this is, let me elaborate.  A general science major has to fulfill 120 credits for his or her major to graduate.  This means 15 credits every semester dedicated to your major, each semester.  Not to mention the general education requirements Ithaca has so lovingly spilled upon me.  Needless to say, being buried in homework from Day 1 is typical.

Actual photo of me every night.

It has only been a week since I began my second year of science love/hell.  I hate it but I love it.  I wish I wasn't so completely torn with my feelings about my future.  It makes deciding what to do that much more difficult.  Alas.  Now the point of this post isn't to complain about my workload, it keeps me busy, but it is rather to make everyone understand how hard college is.

It's not just throwing frisbees around the quad, people.  It's real work.  And by real I mean excruciating.  And by excruciating I mean "don't let Eve near sharp objects or else."

SHINY!

I kid, I kid.  But seeing as how my entire life is schoolwork and stairs, let me give you a description.  I start four of five weekdays up bright and early at 6:00am.  Did I mention that it is neither bright, nor early?  Well that's because the sun has yet to rise.  Wonderful.  Anywho, I head on down to breakfast and munch on an omelet and fruit until 7:45 rolls around.  Then it's time for Chemistry.

Ah, chemistry.  At 8 in the morning.
My morning pick-me-up.  I enjoy chemistry.  In fact, it's probably what I'll concentrate in.  I just get it, at least these first few days.  I'm sure that in a week I'll post an entire entry about how I'm lost in chemistry.  And posting something about it instead of seeking help would actually hurt me more...

My last chem class was four years ago.  God, writing that down makes me feel so old.  Sophomore year of high school was the last time I dealt with elements, bonding, and reactions.

My brain, Chemistry section.

 Needless to say, I have some refreshing to do.  I have a feeling I'll do fine in this class.  The 8:00am four times a week is the roughest part though.  It's not even like I can waltz on up the trillion stairs back to my room to take a quick nap.  Why?  Well, I have a class directly after that.  And another one right after that.  Oh yes children.  Going science non-stop from 8:00 to noon is a pure delight.  And by delight I mean hell.

Basically.

Right after Chemistry, I move about two doors down to my next class of the day.  Called Earth Systems Science, this is basically a steroid-pumped version of Earth Science.  Now I hate to brag, but Earth Science is somewhat of a specialty of mine.  Freshman year of high school taught me well, and I'm very familiar with all of our lab equipment.  Which is wonderful.  Back when I was a lil' tyke, I geeked out on two things: sharks (marine biology in general, really) and minerals.  Yeah.

All of my passwords for the computer were different minerals.  Not only did I love the fact that nobody would ever guess them (because I'm a perpetual nerd and everyone made their passwords their crush's name back in second grade), but whenever I'd type in my password I just felt so awesome.  I would use a pencil and think of the sheet-like structure of graphite. 

100% Carbon.  100% AWESOME.  100% my password to get into my Nickelodeon account.

Needless to say, this class will probably spark some inner mineral love I've been suppressing.  I'm afraid to discover this side of me.  If I start referencing minerals and rocks later in the year, just go with it.  Accept me for who I truly am.

This is the class that I'll have to go outside for, despite the weather.  You know, I love being outdoors.  I love the smell of rain and I love walking through the occasional forest.  I wear bandanas when I hike.  But between what I'll have to do this year in Earth Science and the personally-crafted version of hell I endured last fall has definitely made me come to the conclusion that I would much rather work indoors than out.  I can't work in the field.  I think I would go bananas too quickly. 

I would actually turn into Tom Cruise.

So after this class lets out, it's 10:00am and I've already got two sciences under my belt for the day.  Alright, let's take a much-needed mental break.  Perhaps a nap?  Perhaps hanging out with friends for a few?

OH HELL NO. 

After that class, I walk up a flight of stairs and walk right on into my two-hour physics class.  Oh yes.  Physics.  2 hours.  PHYSICS. 

Hold me.  This is the class that I'm the most terrified of.  I've been avoiding it since I was cut out of my mother's abdomen.  When you're over ten pounds at birth, it's pretty much the only option.

Me two days out.  Except I'm a girl.  And not Asian.

I've been avoiding physics like the plague.  I am a serf and it is an infected rat.  I see it everywhere, but I run.  I run fast and I run hard.  But my time is up, and I've got to bite the damn bullet.  Six hours of physics every week until Christmas.  Perhaps this will be the best Christmas ever.  I should make friends with it now before it becomes too late.  So I'm trying to patch our relationship up, mostly with equations involving subscripts and deltas. 

And this is when I die.

Alas.  So I escape from the prison at noon and go about my life.  Until I start homework.  Hours and hours and hours of homework.  That is all the science I'm taking this semester.  You would be crazy if you did more.  People think I'm crazy for doing this much as it is.  It is my life, folks.  You can't run from your life.  Or postpone it.  Unless you're Dr. Evil and Austin Powers and you freeze yourselves for 30 years.

Austin, you have to shave that.  I know it's cold in there, but you look like an ape.

To fill up those lovely general education requirements, I've also enrolled in an art history class.  Because we need to take art to graduate.  Hmph.  Let me tell you, it is a foreign language.  In the land of atoms and equations, people all around me are talking about artists and interpreting why they used acrylics instead of oil pastel.

I'm a fish out of water.  A scientific fish thrown into a vat of paint.  FISH CAN'T BREATHE IN PAINT.  AT LEAST NONE THAT I'VE HEARD OF. 

It's rough.  But this class is ridiculous.  Guys, the professor went over Stonehenge and the Pyramids for a collective fifteen minutes, then we spent the remaining hour watching Ancient Aliens on Netflix. 

Oh yes.  This is no joke.

This is real life.  All in all, this semester is going to be interesting.  I'm not sure how mentally sound I'll be anymore.  It's already Week 1 and I'm babbling.  Motor controls are beginning to weaken.  Comprehension of the world around me is fading.  To everyone in college, I sincerely salute you.  I hope that you find much success this semester.  Mine is debatable at the moment.

A Painful Move In.

Well hello there!

How are you today?  What'd you think of the torrential downpour we got today?  Or the extreme wind?

Damn you, Irene.  Damn you.
[via ibtimes]

If only the weather was the least of my growing list of issues.  If only.

I moved in for realsies yesterday, and let me tell you - it was pure hell.  It wasn't because I live on the top floor and have to lug my carcass up every day.  No.

That's child's play.  Psh.
[via suncallmoonbright]

I don't even care about that anymore.  Move in was horrible because I couldn't do a damn thing to help anyone.  For the first time in a long time, I was helpless.  I couldn't lift anything without my sternum screaming in protest.  Not to mention the rainbow of bruises blossoming underneath my bellybutton.

Eve, what happened to you?! Tell me, please!


Well, if you insist.  But let me just establish the fact that I'm now convinced that I'm in Final Destination and I keep cheating death.

It's not just a movie.  It's real effing life.
[via hwhillis]

Well, on Friday night, me and two of my friends were driving to take me home after a long day of adventuring and riding unicorns.  We were about ten minutes away from my house, crossed through an intersection, and BAM.  A motorcycle t-boned us.  I wish this was a little anecdote I was making up to keep my blog posts nice and meaty, but alas, this is my life.

I almost died when I went rafting.  And now this.  Folks, if there's any truth to the phrase "third time's the charm," then this blog might not see an entire year.  Because I'll be dead.  Minor detail.

There's not much I can say, actually that's the extent that I can write as of now.  Insurance stuff is still processing and whatnot.  When everything's all said and done, I promise to write about what an automobile accident feels like first hand.  It'll be good too.

I pinky promise.
[via facebook]

But as of right now, know that all of us are alright.  We're all bruised.  My sternum hurts like a mofo and I have bruises where the seatbelt saved me.  Let me tell you, if it wasn't for that seatbelt, I'm not sure if I'd be alive.  Truth.  Learn from me, children.  Always wear one.

But because of the fact that I fell asleep at three in the morning and woke up to move all of my stuff in, you can imagine what kind of shape I was in.  I was in a lot of pain.  Tylenol was burning off faster than the recommended dosage would allow.  No, Eve, you cannot take the whole bottle in one day.

But WHY, Tylenol, WHY.

You don't work when you need to.  Shame on  you.
[via wikipedia]

So that's been my past few days in a nutshell.  In a fair amount of pain and unable to do anything.  It sucks, but it's my life.  So, if you know of anything decent on instant Netflix, please comment below.  I've already blown through Tangled and Toy Story 3 today.  Currently beginning to watch Season 3 of Hoarders.

Like I said, I'm very open to suggestions.  Please comment below.  I beg you.

Looking Back and Forward.

Welp, it's that time of year again.  Time to pack away and sort through the stuff you threw in your basement in May and move it back into your little ol' dorm room.

Yes, I moved my stuff in last Sunday.  It's a tad complicated, but I'm actually home this week.  I moved most of my stuff in on Sunday and I'm bringing my clothes this weekend.  My roommate's there so we packed a cargo van full of the entirety of our dorm and took it up there.

And when I say up, I MEAN UP.  People, Ithaca is a giant hill.  There is always an uphill.  And it just so happens that we're on the top floor of an elevator-less hall.  Huzzah.  It's a lot different than last year.  To truly illustrate this, I decided to take my extreme skillz in Paint to show you.

Observe.

You see, the circles indicate prime points on this map.  The first circle, conveniently labeled "1" in blue, shows where I lived last year.  I quiet little abode, the typical dorm room.  It was manageable.  We both grew to love the place, mostly because of the large kitchen.  The second, large circle, labeled "2", is where I will be spending most of my time.  You see, for some reason, all of my classes this year are in one damn building.  Obviously it's due to the fact that I'm taking all science lectures and labs.

Someone stab me...please.
[via cornerstorkbabygifts]

But here's where I want you to see why I've actually taken the time to create the masterpiece two images above us.  You see that third circle all the way at the top?  You see that white roof?  Well guess what, children.  That white is my ceiling.  And you see all those yellow lines?  That simply indicates when you have an uphill walk.

Woah Nelly.  I have to tell you though, the room is significantly nicer.  We have a little hallway, a cutesy arch and a pretty nice sized room.  So is it worth it?  We shall find out when I'm running to my 8:00am in the snow.  Oh the stories of winter to come.  One plus of having to walk at least 90 flights of stairs a day: Ithacalves.

ITHACALVES.  Everyone gets Ithacalves.  But mine are going to be RIPPED.  They will bring all other calf muslces to shame.  I'm planning on taking photos of my progress.  I'll keep you posted.

Me in two weeks.
[via massivecalves]

It wasn't until I made my bed that I realized how fast summer had gone by.  It seemed like it lasted forever, though.  Funny how time works like that.  It's slow and then you blink your eyes and SHAZAM! Sophomore year.  Wow.  I feel so old.

Reflecting upon my summer, it is definitely safe to say that there have been better ones.  Working full time sucks.  If you don't have to do it, don't.  If you work full time at a job you love, then by all means I congratulate you.  But I definitely decided that it was time to actually focus on myself.  And with most of my life taken up with answering phones and whatnot, I bit the bullet and joined a gym.

Between working and then promptly working out, there was little time for socialization.  So indirectly, I would say that I took this summer to isolate myself.  Barely seeing my friends wasn't very fun.  Not talking to any of my friends from college was pretty rough as well.  But it was all in the name of self-improvement, right?  I mean, I lost 12 pounds since June, so it wasn't all bad.

But at the same time, I can't help thinking of the things that could be, you know?

Daydreaming leads to dangerous thoughts.
[via tumblr]

I kept thinking of how much free time I would've had if I didn't have to work.  I was thinking of every other option that involved more fun, and in the end it made me really sad.  I wish that college wasn't so expensive so I didn't have to work full time to pay for the hefty bills that keep piling up.  I wish.  Despite everything I did this summer, I wish that I did it differently.  Unfortunately, you can't turn back time.  And unfortunately, you can't lower your college tuition bill.  So even if I could redo this summer, I wouldn't be able to.  Which saddens me.  I feel like emo bunny or something.

I understand you, Emo Bunny.  More than you ever know.
[via smosh]

There's no doubt that I improved myself this summer.  Very little improvement, but improvement nonetheless. But the whole "not being social thing" was rough.  I did it to myself though.  Alas.  I would probably rate Summer 2011 five out of nine beehives.

Enough with the one-lady pity party.  Let us talk about the year ahead, shall we?

Yes.  We shall.

This year will most likely be my toughest.  Mostly because I'm making it that way.  I already have a plan for Halloween (which is always nice).  I already bought the damn shoes for my future costume, so if the person who is going to be my partner bails, SHE WILL DIE.  And she knows it.

I'm not planning on telling you what the costume plan is.  But I shall give you hints along the way.  If you correctly guess it, I'll give you candy.  Or homemade chocolate-covered pretzels.

I mean, it's up to you.
[via nutsonline]

Slippery bastard.
[via facebook]

I sincerely hope that this semester leaves me with a tiny bit of sanity.  I haven't been thinking quite clear lately.  The stress is beginning to creep up.

Also, before I head out, I have a few other notes.

There will be very little posts about food for the next three or four months.  Upon discovering my dorm kitchen, the oven is the size of an Easy Bake.  Minimal baking will occur.

Picture to scale.
[via hasbro]

Also, I've been seriously thinking of a tattoo design for myself.

I think I'm going crazy and I'm having all of these thoughts out of nowhere.  Perhaps it's due to the fact that I've really only talked to Gary this week.  Hmmm.

The world may never know.
[via foodfitnessandfun]

Waterfalls and Chocolate.

So yesterday was my last day of working for the summer.  I'm shipping off the the old shewl house once more very soon.

PLEASE tell me you understood the Megamind reference.
[via moviecitynews]

Anywho, being the baker/culinary extraordinaire that I am, I felt the need to end my summer job on a high note.

And I can say with complete confidence that I achieved this goal.


Why?  Because I literally made some of the best cupcakes I have ever made.  And let me tell you, I've made a fair amount of cupcakes in my life.  So to even have the confidence of saying this, you need to know that they're good.

I made flourless chocolate cupcakes.  Now these in itself set people off because they're just so damn good.  BUT NO.

I had to push the envelope and go that extra mile.  I frosted those bad boys with peanut butter mousse frosting.

Sweet baby Jesus.

These cupcakes are completely gluten free and taste incredible.  I can't even stress this enough.  Ladies - if you're looking for a man to propose to you, then make these cupcakes.  Ladies - if you're looking for a lady to propose to you, then make these cupcakes.  Men - if you're looking for a lady to propose to you, then make these cupcakes.  Men - if you're looking for a man to propose to you, then make these cupcakes.  Because these will seal the deal.  Seal it with metaphorical superglue.

You know those desserts that you just NEED to drink, nay, CHUG lots of milk?  Well plan on having it ready by the gallonful.  You'll need it.

So the cupcake recipe is from here.  I just turned it into cupcakes.  The peanut butter was my own brainchild.  Mmm.

Heat up some chocolate and butter until they're melted into a chocolate wonder soup.

In a bowl.

 Melty melty melt melt.

Melty melty melt melt melt melt melt.

 Melty melty melty melty melty melt melt melt melt melt melt.

Melted! While everything's still hot, pour it on top of granulated sugar so the sugar dissolves.  Whisk it really fast.  Beat eggs in, one at a time.  By this time, the cake batter should look like something out of a sewage treatment plant.  I mean, it's going to be bubbly from vigorous whisking and brown from the chocolate.  Listen, it's already been a long day.  Just let it slide.

Toss in some vanilla for good extract and sift cocoa powder into the swampy mess.

Stir promptly.

Once that's all good then pop the batter into little muffin cups.  Preferably assorted colors.  Zoo animals are better.

Oh baby.

Place those little gems in the oven at 375 degrees until they're fully cooked.  To my surprise, the cupcakes actually rise a good amount.  It was unexpected because there is no leavening agent...except magic.  Obviously it was my magic that made them rise.

While the cake's in the oven, take this time to whip up your frosting.  Now I made WAY TOO MUCH.  At least half of it was left in the bowl afterwards.  So I'm going to cut my recipe in half.  This frosts about 2.5 dozen cuppy-cakes.

Take 1 cup of peanut butter and 1 brick of cream cheese and mix them together.  Please soften the cream cheese.  It will make your life a BILLION times easier.

I promise it tastes good despite.

Mix in 1 cup of powdered sugar (sifted) and 1 tbsp of vanilla. 

Now here's where it gets weird.  At this point, you basically have peanut butter pie filling.  So it's pretty damn delicious on it's own.  But add in 1 tub of Cool Whip, and this pie filling suddenly turns into a mousse-y dream cloud of peanut butter magic.

I wish I was kidding.  But out of nowhere, it because whipped.  And it wasn't my folding, because folding in ingredients does nothing.  It was the Cool Whip.

Cool Hwhip.
[via tumblr]

So yeah, stir in a tub of the stuff and prepare for what you're about to see.

So once it's thoroughly mixed, put it in a ghetto pastry bag and frost the cupcakes that should be cooling at this point.

Your kitchen should smell incredible.  You should feel so proud you made something worthy of the gods.

I don't even think the gods deserve these.  But I brought them to work on my last day.  People bit into them and I saw eyes roll into the backs of heads.  One of my coworkers proposed to me.  I heard a few moans.  It was actually ridiculous.  But I got the same reaction out of everyone - that those cupcakes were one of the best, if not the absolute best they've ever had.

And that made my heart feel all fuzzy.  I love it when people love to eat my food.  It makes me feel accomplished.  It makes me feel so happy.

It makes me a Giddy Kitty.
[via thepqnation]

Which brings me to the "waterfall" portion of this blog post.

Kids, let me tell you one of my dreams.  All my life, I wanted someone to send me an Edible Arrangement.  They're just awesome and they're pretty expensive, so I expected that it would be something my future spouse would get me for my birthday or something.

One of my dreams.
[via ediblearrangements]

One of my dreams came true.  And it's a small dream, but one nonetheless.  I can't begin to say why I started crying.  But I have a pretty good idea.

I think it's because I tell everyone I know at some point that I would love to get an Edible Arrangement.  EVERYONE.  I remember telling everyone at work, naturally.  I love to do things for people.  In fact, I go out of the way to make sure that everyone is happy.  Before myself.  I think of everyone before I become a thought.

So the fact that people listened to me, and cared enough to get me something that I've wanted for as long as I can remember was really touching.  It was more than fruit, this Edible Arrangement was.  It was the caring thought behind it.  It was showing me that, yes, people do think about you.

And let me tell you, it feels pretty effing great to know that people think about you.  So I guess that's why I cried.  It caught me completely off guard.  And of course, everyone whipped out their phones once I started crying.  There are at least five videos of me crying over an Edible Arrangement.

I'll never hear the end of this.  But I don't mind.  It just reminds me that I'm loved...at least by someone other than Gary.  He's got my back forever.  All in all, it was a pretty nice ending to my summer of working.  It's nice to leave for a while, but I made a lot of slammin' memories at that damn rental agency.

So to any coworkers that read this, thanks for not making my summer not suck too much.  You're pretty cool in my book.