NO MORE BLOG SPOT

http://pinenutsandvodka.wordpress.com/

boredom level: 34

I have discovered why I've never had a weblog: because I am quite boring! A very sad thought indeed!

This weekend, I canceled on dinner plans because my apartment is not up to my mother's standards and she is threatening a visit this week. I expected the boyfriend to freak out, because anyone would, right? Nope, not Mr. Perfect. Mr. Perfect decided it would be 'fun' to join me in my dreadfully lame preparations.

Then, Mr. Perfect came over with groceries and cooked dinner whilst I scrubbed my walls (no joke.) To say I was endeared is an understatement. Then, the coup de grâce - he made foie gras (!!!) and brushed it off because 'his parents are total francophiles.' No big deal.

It was essentially a perfect night, but after he left, I turned the crazy on. He MUST have a secret coke habit or be a 'hipster grifter' type or mess around with guys! Or something! He is too perfect, and not to mention, he's really a bit too attractive for me and I'm not even sure what he's doing with me in the first place!

This mental anguish ended today, however, as I believe I scared him off.

When I was 17, I saw a PETA video of cows, chickens, and pigs being tortured, and stopped eating meat then and there. I've eaten foie gras in the past because it's been quite some time since I learned about the animal kingdom, and I thought amphibians lacked nervous systems/couldn't feel pain.

Well, Mr. Perfect was laughing about my "vegetarianism," as he calls it, so I wiki'ed it - and discovered that frogs have complex nervous systems. :( Moments later, I was crying. Like, a lot.

Mr. Perfect tried to comfort me, saying things like 'they only kill ones that are hurt anyway,' and 'but we already ate them now...'

It was T-R-A-G-I-C.

And - all I'm saying is that I'm pretty sure his departure involved some running and screaming.

something about wheat grass

Well, it turns out that places like 'Jamba Juice' put a tiny bit of wheat grass in 100000 grams of sugar because it actually tastes remarkably similar to dirt.

My words of wisdom for the day.

Does this happen to other people?

There is a weird look that I occasionally get from professors, and I have no idea what it means. The first time I saw it, I was asking my physics professor for clarification on a problem set... and I still remember the expression very clearly, because I remember not knowing what it indicated.

The other day, I had déjà vu. This expression appeared once more whilst I asked for some clarification on the wording used to describe a neural pattern - in retrospect, I was over-thinking things (as I often do) and thus interpreting ambiguity where there was not any. (Incidentally, this is why language frustrates me... it is very rarely [/never?] as precise as I would like it to be.)

But, I cannot figure out if they are just speechless because what I've said is completely retarded and foolish? (My suspicion.) Or if I am over-thinking it so much that they don't even know what the question is? Or if I sound really crazy? And they simply do not know how to respond?

It is honestly the strangest expression in the world and as I have not seen it frequently, I do not believe it is a good one.

Other data includes the fact that both adopters of this dreaded look were math guys - an engineer and physicist.

Could this have something to do with the strange expression upon their faces?

Perhaps I just don't speak math nerd?

further evidence that i am a hot mess

Today, I received a letter from my building supervisor detailing how many times I've locked myself out of my apartment this month - and saying that it is expected that this behavior shall cease immediately.

I did not know this was being monitored. Embarrassing?

Someone pass me a martini...

could someone just publish a comprehensive list of "ways to start a fire in the kitchen"

Home on a Friday night. Whines! I have to submit a paper to a journal and finish a workup by midnight. We shall see if that happens.

This week has had many ghoulish undertones.

I have started not one, but two fires in my kitchen this week. This is nothing new, as I still get teased for setting a pita on fire à la Ryan from The Office.

Not being a genius in the kitchen is perfectly peachy in my eyes. However, the problem is my neighbors - I live in a high rise, and I don't imagine they enjoy the frequent smoke alarm vibrations/sounds.

I just can't imagine why anyone has not yet published this detailed account aimed at avoiding these mishaps.

For example, I purchased some wax paper the other day - I had to do some baking and I thought one was to use it - well, it filled the kitchen with smoke upon being placed in the oven. (Of course, I was absent and did not notice until the alarm alerted me.) Some clarification would have been great.

Maybe this is what led Sylvia to call it a day...

imagine for a moment

Please imagine that you must email a colleague - not someone you generally work with, but someone you must contact regarding a specific issue,

however, she is not in your university directory, oddly.

So, you google her...

only to find that there are several news articles about her having pretended to have a terrible disease for an extended period of time. (I would give more details but I am a bit uneasy about getting too specific - I mentioned it to my friend and he'd heard about it on the news.)

Yes...this happened to me today, and it was bizarre as hell. I am actually more than a little freaked out.

I Scare Men Away

I met this really cool guy a few weeks ago - he is very cute, very intelligent, and has the intangible qualities that I really love, yet many men today do not have (i.e. he has a sense of propriety.)

I really like him, so I have truly been on my best behavior. Which is saying a lot - in past relationships, I have tended to be 100% myself from day one. This has caused a number of men to decide I am crazy, or if they really like me, "one-of-a-kind."

So, this time, I'm doing things the old-fashioned way - which apparently means discussing the merits of different world cuisines over dinner and drinking pinot grigio for four hours whilst we reminisce about our respective pasts, I with a conscious suppression of my usual bitterness.

When we met, I was super lost and looking around/not seeing him. We bumped into one another and I think I thought out loud, saying something like "Ohh no..." He laughed and had some absurdly cute yet gimmicky comment about how it really wasn't so tragic or something. I think I was in love as soon as he smiled.

In the past, I thought that if I wasn't brutally, excessively open about who I am from day one, I would have been betraying myself somehow - now, I am beginning to appreciate that part of the fun is slowly learning things about each other... and learning that maybe I am not as jaded as I thought.

So, I can deal with pinot grigio and light discussion for a while longer... because I don't think I want to scare this one away. Yet, anyway.

I'm not crazy, yo' crazy! Like Chicken Tetrazzini!

Psychiatrist today. Whilst sitting in the waiting area pouting about the boring nature of it all, I spied a fellow cowering into his jacket - hard to describe, but think "turtle." I also received a visual of a girl who legitimately looked like a skeleton.

Chuckling at the corny brochures, I simultaneously realized I was acting a fool and played"which one of these people is not like the other" in my head.
ME!

I don't know about you, but I would estimate that 70% of my friends take psychiatric meds of some sort. Are we all crazy?

I don't fancy myself crazy, but I am pharmacologically inclined, so if there is something to help with a given symptom, I say "bring it on."

Bad, maybe?

For some reason, all of this reminded me of chicken tetrazinni. Maybe because every time I go to the psychiatrist I leave feeling seriously alarmed about how normal and boring I feel.

So - exhibit a - if this doesn't make you feel like maybe you've sorta got it together, than you've probably already lost it.

http://chickentetrazzini.ytmnd.com/

In the spirit of my temporary insanity, I would like to share a calming poem.

Nobody sits
like this rock sits.

You rock, rock.
The rock just sits and is.

You show us how to just sit here,
and that's what we need.


CIgarettes

Additionally... nothing completes an all-nighter like chain-smoking, no?

But, sadly, one of my recent patients had some seriously fucked up complications which I believe to be largely due to her incessant smoking, so I cannot light up.

However, I will indulge my love for the devilish smoke by sharing this quotation...

"I like to think of fire held in a man's hand. Fire, a dangerous force, tamed at his fingertips. I often wonder about the hours when a man sits alone, watching the smoke of a cigarette, thinking. I wonder what great things have come from such hours. When a man thinks, there is a spot of fire alive in his mind--and it is proper that he should have the burning point of a cigarette as his one expression."

All-Nighters and Toblerone

Today was a most eventful day. I awoke extra early (!!!at 7!!!) because I had to go to the pharmacy before class, and the process of acquiring my medication was entirely unremarkable.

But then! Then, as I was checking out, it caught my eye. The evil, menacing red letters bore against my soul! Despite my solid five minutes of resistance, I eventually succumbed to the temptation of the most delicious combination of chocolate, honey, almond, and nougat known to man. Tears!

The rest of the day was composed of class, waiting around for an hour to meet with someone for a gratifying three minutes, and calling doctors for three hours to try to make a single appointment, which was ultimately unsuccessful and resulted in frequent remarks about the problems in the world on my part.

Now, I am engaging in a most interesting review of intravenous medication. The fact that it shall take many hours of regurgitation to complete this task is peachy and pleasing!

At least I have my choco-friend...

alas, not for long.

Tomorrow, I shall again rise early, this time to take a journey to a discount outlet; fingerprinting will follow.



Premature Judgement

I don't really feel like writing a corny "about me" deal, so instead I shall list some random things about myself as they come into my head,
...and so begins our exciting and epic journey to find out if I am a Freak Show.

I LOVE:
- Pine nuts
- Vodka (what is terrifically clever blog title?)
- Art (especially local art)
- Various sciences
- My city/community
- Karl Lagerfeld
- Bukowski
- Tolstoy
- Edna St. Vincent Millay
- Virginia Woolf
- ... I am done listing those for now as that might become tedious to read!
- Arrested Development
- Interior decorating
- Gourmet (especially vegetarian and vegan cooking)
- Play-doh
- Tea
- Spa days
- Working in schools where people get shot
- Riding public transportation
- MEN
- MEN
- MEN

My blog story...

Everyone and their brother has a blog these days, and I never really felt a need to create one... until the other day.

To summarize: in one of my courses, there is a rather tragic girl from a very small town - hopefully that description is adequate to convey that she is socially and aesthetically "different." Because we attended a review session together a few weeks ago and she is new to the school, I have been quite friendly to her.

The other day, she was complaining about not having a partner for something, and I told her that though I already had one, I'd be willing to participate twice, if she wanted. So, as I walked away, I overheard her say "well, I'd rather go alone than have it become some sort of freak show."

Actually - I'm sure she phrased it improperly and such, but still, I found it really alarming that someone who is so clearly out of touch would call ME a freak show?

Like what?

So, this is why my blog has begun. I would like to find out if I am truly a freak show. And, I like to write.