moving on.

[i suppose this is second of all?  but really, if i only have two points to make here, would "all" just be misleading?  you could get to the end of this pair of thoughts, wondering if you've missed something, all because someone was careless with their idioms and tossing around "all"s like so many ... somethings.]

no, really now, moving on.

several years ago, presumably for my birthday, the boy gifted me this watch.

she was my dream watch, and i wore her nearly every day.

i got SO many compliments (and comments) when i wore this watch, the most frequent question being: “does it do anything else?”

besides keeping perpetual time, which i think is more than enough…no.  it does not.  sometimes i liked to pretend it had an intercom and the ability to launch my super powers ala wonder woman bracelets, but that’s another story.

sadly, while i was teaching my 1st hour english class, the elastic broke.  the dear boy sent my watch back to the company who made it, vestal, and they looked at it to see if they could fix it.

over the next 6 months, they corresponded back and forth, advising that they could not fix it (sad) but they would replace it for free….but not with the same watch, because they no longer made that particular model.  they could give me this one:

but purple is so very not my color.  alas, we thought all hope was lost and were beginning to poke around to see if i liked another watch just as much as my beatles-white-album-of-loveliness watch, when they said they found one in the way, way back of the warehouse (after pestering them for a few months to respond) and were sending it posthaste.

the watch arrived, it was lovely, and all was well with the world.

until.

i realized that my watch was perpetually several hours behind.

i changed the battery.

i fiddled with the knobs.

still, several hours behind.

so.

now, my watch sits in a bowl until i can figure out who to take it to to get my watch fixed, otherwise having to force the boy to get sucked back into the 6-month-for-service vestal black hole to get me a different watch.

and the worst part is, now the boy has the cooler watch of the two of us (gasp!) and gets compliments on it ALL THE TIME.  and each time he does, my angel-watch sheds a little tear.

the library has cookbooks, people.

for free.

and you can check them out for 2 months (as long as they’re not uber-popular, of course).

free.

cookbooks.

for free.

to cook from.

[are you getting the awesomeness yet?]

here’s my loot for this week:

oh, and we’re not becoming vegan, really, but i am attempting to expand my culinary repetoire, and we’re making some changes around casa derose in the food department, but more about that later.

until then: who’s coming for dinner?

*      *      *      *     *

note: as i gushed about my incredible bounty of culinary literature, the dear boy informed me that this is no new thing, as i have this thing called the “internet machine” which contains thousands of recipes.

my reply: FREEEEEEEEE! BOOOOOOOOOOOKS FOR COOOOOOOOOOKING! and then i proceeded to run around the apartment banging bowls and pots with a spoon.  mature, right?]

note to the note: this entire exchange may have just been imagined.

final note, associated with the asterisk at the beginning: i tend to “discover” things about 7 years after they are popular, or (and this happens less often) exactly 9 months before they become ubiquitous, and then prattle on about them to others as if i’ve just found the NEXT BIG THING.  my kind friends tolerate me.

this is the personal stationery for legendary film critic, gene shalit.

i’ve been procrastinating designing my own wanting my own personalized stationery for awhile, and as i put more thought to a design, i stumbled upon this awesome example.

damn.

now i’m going to need to find an iconic haircut.

back to the drawing board.

[source]

as we became tenants in may, we have not had occasion to use said fireplace yet, and instead just gaze at it, dreaming of snowy days when we can light the fire and make smores in our own house.

this daydream, of snow, is particularly nice in the ovenlike june we’ve been having.

some days, like today, the wind picks up and blows in a specific way in our fireplace that wafts a fire smell throughout the apartment.

and on days, like today, when it is about 90 million degrees outside at 11am, it smells like the entire day is ON FIRE.

[which, for cool-temperature-lovers -- not cold, cool -- like myself, might as well be true.]

you know when you have several programs up on your computer, a few word documents, a game and an instant message, and you check the usage report on your computer and it’s running, but it’s nearly 95% of capacity?

no?  too nerdy for you?

hmmm.

well, that is the only analogy i can think of to explain how i feel right now after spending six days in or near my french boyfriend’s hometown.  between staying with his family, seeing good friends and awkward friends, spending time in a gallery for his art opening and listening to literally hours of stories about people i don’t know, i am at about 95% capacity.

i’m all full.  no more room for now.  we need to close some programs, shut the chatting down, and get the hell out of town and go home.

it was a dickensian week, being the best of times and the worst of times, but all i can do right now is just hermit to regroup.

we have now retreated to our 1 and 5/8 star-hotel (more on this later), and the boy asked what i wanted to do for the evening.  my answer?  anything that involves not speaking, listening, hearing stories from the past, attempting to make small-talk or see anything new.

so, pretty much sleeping.

he understood.

happy new year from the nordic lodge on the chilly western slope of colorado.

but now, hours after getting sucked into a final and reading, it’s 9:45.

dinner at 9:45?

typically i’d just go to sleep and take care of this in the morning.

but i am STARVING. STAR–AR–VING.  so hungry, it requires extra syllables.

this is not the time for my mother to have given up on cooking food.

also? not the time to be discovering the sheer volume of the pioneer woman’s mouth-watering recipes.

or to be watching the food network.

sigh.

off to scrounge…

i’m not entirely sure why*, but it’s just not my favorite holiday.  i don’t really like dressing up, i don’t need all the candy, and although little kids dressed up like animals is awfully cute, i just find myself not caring.

i’m all for festivities and holidays and senses of occasion, but this one just leaves me nonplussed.

so, are we done now?  everyone good? on to thanksgiving?  turkeys, pilgrims, whatnot?

*nope, i know why.  but i’d rather just be nice and not say.

i’m broke in the way that occurs when you are forced to only put 1/4 of a tank of gas in your car because you have no money until this elusive money shows up and because you had to spend your last 4 dollars getting your car washed at 11 at night because kids threw eggs at your car from a sidewalk on your way home.

in these troubled times…

just kidding.  that phrase is getting on my nerves.

thankfully, i am not broke-ass broke, which is a distinct kind of broke-ness that becomes really troublesome.

but…eggs?  really?  REALLY?  if i have to spend my literal last dollar on eggs, i want them to be benedict, and in my mouth.

religion & politics: A-
advanced grammar: A
advanced composition: A-
astronomy (barring any unforseen tragic grade i get on a last project) final grade: A
anthropology human origins: B
introduction to literature: A

five two classes to go.

updated: 12/23/08

Swedish boy collapses after playing ‘World of

Warcraft’ for 24 straight hours.