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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.