To Eat Ice Cream, or to Not Eat Ice Cream, Can That Count as a Question?

Internal struggle. Should I head over to Sundaes and Cones in the pouring rain or walk up to a dining hall and eat a salad. The choice is obvious, or is it?

I'm already feeling kind of guilty, for a number of reasons:

1.It's been a long time since I've posted anything and I'm sure everyone is dying to/dreading to hear from me again.

2.I never eat vegetables anymore(but can you blame me? dining hall vegetables usually consist of seventy percent oil, thirty percent vegetables)

3. I ate a pound of pad thai... again.

It was Valentine's Day, and I am happy to say that I have the greatest Valentine a girl could wish for. MYSELF. I'm kidding of course, so to douse any lonely regrettable feelings I had, I indulged and ate a pound of pad thai from suzy's in what felt like ten seconds, but I'm sure was much shorter. So now I'm feeling guilty. I haven't worked out in two weeks and my fat and I are throwing ourselves a lovely little pity parade, I only wish you could be there for it.

Valentines Day actually wasn't that bad. I ran by CVS first thing in the morning and bought two boxes of Spongebob Valentines, most inscribed with the following, "Will you be my matey?" I then proceeded to give them to the kids at the elementary school I tutor at, who in return gave me a piece of brownie that tasted like playdoh. I ate it nonetheless. When I got back to campus I snuck soup into one of my classes and afterwards took portraits of my friend for another class. She looked quite stunning really, I would post a picture but she wasn't dressed as food... Anyways when I finally got home I opened the V-Day Care Package my mom sent me only to find, that it was filled with CANDY AND WINE. Best mom ever? I think yes. I'm sorry I don't have any particularly exquisite cuisines to talk about, but as soon as my budget increases I promise there will be more posts. I'm back baby and fatter than ever.

p.s. I got a new camera!

Hiatus

Good morning new york, or should I say... you know I honestly don’t know what to say. Maybe its because I’m bleeding onto my second consecutive day with absolutely no sleep - yep I did it, I pulled an all nighter ( my first by the way) - and I’m feeling nauseous and disoriented because I’ve lost my glasses. I feel like a little blind mouse, or  even all three of the blind mice. My personality has been raging from absolute lunacy to more subdued and anxious to just plain stupid. Most of the time I think I’m just plain stupid and I blame this on the fact that that I haven't gotten more than three hours of sleep collectively since I got back from Canada three to four weeks ago, or whatever. 

Most of the time I wish I was still in Canada, especially as I was illegally sipping cheapo wine from a thermus that smelled like coffee before a David Sedaris reading back in NYC. David, I love ya and absolutely nothing against you, but It had certainly been a long week; one of many. With wine I’ve been eating cheese, in the comfort of my dorm. Eating out has become less of an option since I dropped the bomb in Canada. While there I climbed a mountain and then treated myself to a poutine - a delicious conglomeration of well seasoned frites (fries - I’m practicing for my french final can you tell?) covered in gravy cheese curds and whatever topping you desire. We ate fries, asian food, and crepes throughout the entirety of our trip dousing it with legally purchased biere rousse ( red beer ). There is something so entirely perfect about being able to drink legally, especially when its good cheap beer. Drinking red beer felt like, to quote my roommate, sipping amber.

Anyways, back to the point, which is that I can’t afford anything because of how much I spent in Canada. SO, I’ve been cooking. AHA, she cooks, I know thats what you are all thinking - all four of you - and yes its true. I do cook when I have the time. My uncle works at Trader Joe’s so periodically I’ll get a gift card in the mail from him ,which is always a nice surprise, and then i’ll go and purchase some tender, salty proscuitto and lace it over a finely picked cantaloupe like ribbon on a blonde baby’s head, or make a pesto pasta and top it with strip steak cooked rare. 


I guess thats why I’m excited to go home, I’ll be leaving today and as much as it saddens me that I’ll be away from the delicacies of New York for five whole weeks, I’m also incredibly happy that I don’t have to eat cafeteria food for that duration and I’ll be able to cook more often. I suppose I’m entering a hiatus, but maybe you’ll get lucky and see some of my own creations soon. Anyways, bye for now New York. You’re one hell of a heartbreaker, but I can’t help but love you anyways. 

Francophone Interests...

Daylight savings time, the preliminary to winter and depression. It's coming, we know it is. For now the orange and red and golden leaves glimmer under the dusky afternoon sun but soon there will be no leaves and no dusk, only the the darkening of our sensibilities under the luminous grey clouds.

What I need is a vitamin lamp - I'm not actually sure if thats what its called but I know there is such a thing and it provides you with sun vitamins: i.e vitamin d. Or I just need to drink more milk or something high in vitamin-ey goodness. or I just need to drink more wine. I'm thinking my best bet is with the wine unfortunately its expensive and illegal...for me at least. I wonder if there is an injection you can get to give you wrinkles so you'll look older, wiser, and less susceptible to being carded. For now I'm guessing either no this does not exist or it does and its more expensive then any illegally purchased wine I've invested in. For now I think I'll stick with wine samples. On saturday I fruitfully tasted several really delicious wines, the first a bubbly non carbonated twice fermented concoction that tasted uncannily like champagne, the second a flatter version but the flavors all the same, and the third a heavily alcoholic syrupy fluid, good for pouring over five ingredient vanilla bean ice cream, as the lady at the booth pointed out. I smiled and nodded dropping a dollar in the tip jar before scurrying away, in fear of being asked for my ID, down into the subway.

That morning I'd left my dorm with the intention of spending a day in central park, maybe stopping by Ladurée for a minute or two to buy a couple macaroons. What it turned into was a mad dash up and down ten blocks and an hour and half wait for five macaroons; and it was completely worth it. As the store pulled  up into view I ferocioulsy joined the line that was curving down the block, just behind a little dog in a fur collared leather jacket and a perplexing group of french people, who snarked repartee back and forth like no one could understand what they were saying. It wasn't so much what they were saying that offended me, rather that they had the audacity to come to New York just to visit Ladurée. Didn't they have their own in the motherland? Hadn't they always?

Once inside the store, I illegally snapped some photos - my second crime of the day - inciting a series of snapshots from behind me and the eventual overhead shouting of the man at the cash register demanding we not take photos. Once at the front of the line, my inner turmoil of whether or not I should have bought a six set of macaroons just to get the cute box or go for the significantly cheaper option of five macaroons without a box came to a climax and I walked away with five extra bucks and no cute box. With a meeting quickly approaching I didn't have time to relax in the park or even taste a macaroon and an hour later, sitting in the library I took a bite into the delicate, crumbling texture of a raspberry macaroon. It dissolved under the heat of my tongue and the tiny little seeds of the raspberry jam tantalized the grooves of the roof of my mouth. I proceeded to eat a caramel macaroon, which was a little to thick and sweet - not enough contrast of flavors - and a pistachio macaroon which was needless to say, perfection. Oh so nobly I sacrificed my two other macaroons to my colleagues, so for now I cannot know the the wonders of the two other flavors I purchased. woe. is. me.