just some college memories

I was reminiscing about my college days which at the time seemed a lot more desolate and desperate than I view them now.  Now, I dream about going to back to school.  Now, I think about how oddly I had more time then than I do know to pursue other things and even more serious than that was that the hope that you have in school.  Anything is possible still.  Once you leave, at least for me, that mentality is harder to hang on to but certainly not impossible.  The problem with reminiscing is that I inevitably think of my current life and lifestyle and have to fight off the urge to compare rather than enjoy the memory.

What did I love best about college?  Definitely the learning part and I’m not being sarcastic.  It is the kind of thing I know not everyone understands but that I hope that everyone would.  I’m an avid exerciser (is that a word?) and for me reading, writing, applying it is all exercise for my brain and I’ve never been someone to do something half-assed.  I suppose that is why not continuing to get my Master’s and PHD is a bit bothersome to me–BUT, there I go again…get back to the memory.

I certainly didn’t LOVE the food and that was clear with the vanishing waistline I had in contrast to the Freshmen 15.  However, when I look at my diet, I can say I probably never ate better.  This is also when I really discovered that I absolutely loved cereal.  Breakfast, lunch, and dinner if there wasn’t something else edible at the cafeteria or I had my fill of grilled chicken sandwiches, there was CEREAL.

Not just any cereal, there was half of a wall stacked with cereal boxes from which I obsessively chose a box that was either unopened or had minimal amounts consumed (less cereal users).  Non-fat milk  up until this point was sacrilegious when compared to the 2% variety.  But in cereal, is 2% really necessary?  The harder change was to get over my childish impulse to spoon white sugar over my cereal.  I still had to have at least one spoonful over my beloved Wheaties.

Other than that it was the salad and sandwich bar for me.  Occasionally there was a toasted bagel with cream cheese but that was really hit or miss.  If I had an early morning with more time I always treated myself to Belgian waffles if the irons didn’t look a mess.  Okay, that wasn’t EVERYTHING I ate.  I nearly had an ice cream cone or Carnation cup everyday because otherwise I’m pretty sure I would have fallen over dead at the gym.  So let this be a lesson–a scoop of ice cream a day can save your life!

Anyway, while I was laying in bed it was clear to me that college gave me more than an education and somewhat decent eating habits.  It was a good time and it gave me hope that it wouldn’t be the last best time of my life.  Interesting how things that seem difficult at the time when looked up are the things that end up making me smile…maybe not all of those memories…but a lot and there’s hope for more in the future.

Now to get a scoop of ice cream.

just a little i-n-d-e-p-e-n-d-e-n-t

It is popular belief that every parent wants a better life for their children; that whatever struggles they went through will not be repeated in the lives of their sons and daughters; that some how, some way they raised these little rascals up to be able to learn from others’ mistakes.  Whether it is nurture, nature, or some inner/innate/aged soul within me, I’ve managed to make some progress for the better during this quarter-life crisis.

I don’t know if it is true with everybody, but I do know that it is for most people–We are our worst critics.  I have always had the mentality that if you shoot for the moon you will end up amongst the stars.  Now I understand that the concept of that saying is supposed to be understood as: if you don’t make your mark, you’ll get close to it.  However, we all know that stars are much further than our moon, but hey, maybe the real meaning behind the euphemism is that if you shoot for your Moon, you might even surprise yourself and go beyond it.  Who knows, right?  I just know I’m still shooting away.  For me, I still believe that I will have my beautiful beach castle with an amazing kitchen fit for a French chef and bathrooms that put spa resorts to shame.   I’ll have several best-sellers published, book signings lined up, airline tickets booked, stamps in my passport, and did I mention the most comfortable shoulder to rest on each step of the way?  Reasonable goals; I’m convinced.

I’ve just made a sizeable purchase, something that has been dubbed “a good investment.”  As much as I feel proud of myself, it still feels bittersweet and I’m not sure why.  My friends have been so kind in their congratulations and support, but something feels missing.  Is it because I’m not moving in?  Is it because I’m doing this alone?  I don’t know.

At this point, I understand that nothing goes quite as planned but also that it usually does turn out for the better.  I mean really?  Back in high school, all of my friends were positive we’d own a block in La Jolla and have a motorcycle gang as well as all own the same color Mustang GT.  How’s that for a plan?  But I also thought I would be famous before I turned 18; I would practice acceptance speeches in the bathroom mirror.  Right now, I am going to need to give myself credit for an ordinary accomplishment instead.

just a little bit of fall

It takes a great big push from Mother Nature to get Fall rolling in Southern California.  September, my birth month, getting back to school, the last summer weekends, has definitely rolled on past me this year.  I have mixed feelings about it and contrary to previous years I’m ready for sweaters, soups, movie nights, and those lovely activities that make cold nights irresistable.

Chillier weather also means more time indoors and more time to write without being distracted.  I have more photos than I know what to do with now when before I had every intention of creating a blog entry for each.  Then there’s the novel.  If it were a quilt, the patches could be found in every corner of my room waiting to be stitched into a cohesive pattern.  I would also like to do a few short stories inspired by some great art seen on fellow bloggers’ sites.  I’m looking forward to my hand cramping and knuckles being sore from all the writing.

It is a bit funny that I’m discussing all the low temperatures when we’re currently experiencing beautiful sunshine and pending santa ana.  I may have to plan a trip to the beach with Saint Geneviève who thoroughly enjoys the feeling of coarse sand underfoot.  Despite the city’s stubbornness to Mother Nature, I can feel it change. 

The mornings inspire me to bury my nose longer into my pillow.  The dew builds into a fog over the park near the apartment.  I find myself looking for mischief in the shadows.  Perhaps I’m sensitive to it all because I feel myself changing.  I don’t want to say it is me getting older or even growing up–it’s something else.  Getting smarter maybe, no, that would require more reading time than I’ve had lately…more experienced?  It isn’t a transformation; I’m not a butterfly.  If anything, it is slow like a chameleon and I’m finding my colors change as my circumstances and life changes around me.

Like anyone else, there are so many things I want to do, to see, to live through and hardly enough time to do it all.  I have always thought I had excellent time management skills.  Recently, I feel I may need to reassess that. 

It’s time to find home.

just a little dog

It is life altering and has a feeling reminiscent of my niece being born–I’m getting a dog.  She is the second boxer of my life and although she comes a bit banged up and with a few social problems, she sure does have a lot in store when it comes to being the pet of an owner who has her own kind of baggage.  I’m anxious and I’ve already visited her room twice, the gift shop three times and used the restroom.

I feel, I know that I won’t give up on her to find her way.

–Waiting to adopt 09/16/09

just a little crêpe lit

My side-order job has given me the opportunity to talk, meet, and connect with some interesting people.  Foodie people.  My kind of people!  A recent post on my San Diego Dessert Restaurant Examiner page led some very crêpe and friendly people my way.

It all began with what was going to be a trip for yogurt.  However, midway through the drive, we decided let’s try something different and make visit Yogurt World’s sister shop Crêpe World.  With an outdoor mural painted on one of the walls and park benches set up around the perimeter along the large windows.  There was a surreal feeling of being outside, but safe from any stray summer showers.  A Japanese version of a French crêpe stand?  Yes, I think it was. 

Best of all was the little Japanese boy who eagerly raced around the kitchenette waiting to serve the customers their ordered treat.  Barely able to reach over the counter, he delicately handed over the bright pink wrapped crèpes.  He didn’t mind, however, to run to where anyone was sitting to hand deliver them instead despite the inevitable scolding–Slow down!

Eating my way through desserts in San Diego, I wrote up a little diddy for the Examiner and that was that.  Well, almost.  The editors of Let Them Eat Crêpes stumbled upon my post and sent me a friendly hello!  Their light and delicious website welcomes stories, recipes, memories, and the sharing of one’s favorite crêpe (or as they kindly define for you as: a small, very thin pancake; French pancake).  However they agree that the charm of crêpes is universal and I myself have had a crêpe in every country I have visited.

So tell me, are you a sweet or savory crêpe?

not just a little dessert

Now if you think this picture looks absolutely, ridiculously delicious, then you should have seen the ice cream cake that I ate too fast to take a picture of.

A very lovely friend of mine, who totes the responsibility of being my muse for many of my writing projects, has fled the West Coast on course for D.C.  He packed up his belongings in his car after several weeks of dwindling down all the personal periphinalia that one collects in life; selling, trading, giving away, down to tossing into the trash.  Very courageous if you ask me.  He is very much a worldly character – half Aussie, half Irish and downright nomadic.

He always manages to find his way in life and be true to himself and I can say that I’m envious of someone with such a success rate at it.  On top of his taste in music, photographic enthusiasm, and hesitence towards the idea of Love, he sure does know how to throw a party.

His parents opened up their yard to the constant drip of twenty-somethings that my dear friend had collected on the West Coast.  Many brought dishes to share from homemade hummus to Korean BBQ, but the palate was already salivating with Rogue Hazelnut beer and white bean chili.  Plumerias and orchids perfumed the yard and I was happy  to be in a sundress well into the evening.

If I wasn’t already stuffed I had to have some dessert (shown above) which I shared (for your information).  I couldn’t go without satisfying my sweet tooth.  However, without evening knowing, one of my favorite desserts – ice cream cake was still waiting to be revealed from the freezer!

In addition to my muse’s other creative talents, apparently his years at Ben & Jerry’s in high school taught him how to make a bitchin’ ice cream cake.  Two kinds – chocolate raspberry and chocolate peanut butter.  I’m not even sure I can get into the details about them (yes, I had both) because I’m going to start drooling and then I might cry because I don’t know when I’ll ever have that deliciousness again.  Talk about Chocolategasm.  He assured me that they were relatively easy to make, simply a bit time consuming since you did a layer of brownie, a layer of ice cream, set, a layer of brownie, a layer of filling, set, more brownie and ice cream and FREEZE!  He had to thaw them out prior to even being able to cut. 

A good memory to add to many.

just a little bite…of everything

Decisions, decisions.  My very lovely co-worker brought in doughnuts the other day and in an office dominated by the female persuasion, doughnuts incites ooos, ahhhs,  ohhh mys –basically the who repertoire of sounds that men only dream of being the cause of.

After perusing the possibilities, another co-worker of mine shared how she loves to just have a bite of her husband’s doughnut so that she can have a taste of more than one.  Her husband, on the other hand, gets a bit bummed out because a bite taken away means that he has 3/4 of a dougnut and not an entire one.

Personally, I’m a tapas and appetizer kind of girl just because I love trying different foods and when I go out with the boyfriend why not order two plates and split them?  Best of both worlds.

I suppose in the world of dougnuts this is where doughnut holes come in but not ALL doughnuts come that way and they are hardly as glamourous and the entire doughnut–girls do love rings!

Being very bright ladies with a taste for a little bit of everything, the best idea to handle a bright pink box of doughy goodness was to cut each one up into quarters so that we could try as many as our stomach would let us.

(I abstained from taking a photo of the plate at the end the day.)

just little women

I’m just a little piece at 5 feet tall which is just fine by me however it does make me a little more inclined to be curvy (well, curvy compared to tall, thin and rail-like) because of my stature.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t endowed on top as well as I am on the bottom but that’s karma for you.  Apparently running around with triple D bras on your head in department stores when you are little leaves you a member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee.

Last night, I caught E!’s Top 25 Most Voluptuous Vixens and although I was conflicted when it came to the ranking and that a few of the lovely ladies I felt fell under Wonderfully Waspy rather than curvy (you can’t just slap on some boobies and call a girl curvy…please).  The Latina Ladies with their truly fantastic shapes did dominate the list as well as a few European Goddesses and Domestic Princesses sprinkled throughout.  More importantly ;p I was excited by how many petite women showed up on the list.  Sure studies have shown that height has a correlation with one’s success in life, but these little ladies light up the sex appeal and brush their shoulders off in the face of those so-called studies.

just a little agenda

Okay, so I’ve been getting philosophical lately rather than revealing chocolate dripping fantasies or letting you know the little joys that can present themselves to you in life but here I go anyway.  I didn’t write this originally under the influence of a cranberry, vodka, and Pama (sp?-correct, just  checked), but I’m certainly typing that way.

At almost 26 (twenty-six), I’m wondering if I’m about to miss something. I’ve become a coffee a day drinker and I don’t really care if I’m a snob about it and go to chic cafés or find authentic chai.  There’s something sobering about it when it’s followed by 8+ hours at as desk, plastic smile and disdain for people each time the phone rings.  I don’t want to be pessimistic.  I want to be glowing like the preggers woman standing next to me but maybe without the baby.  I want to be more than pleasant–sweet even like the girl that puts hearts in the milk froth or the woman who rocks pigtails with a cocktail dress.  I want to enjoy being in love with everything instead of wanting to run away.  I’ve become such a hard ass and planning has become such a requirement.  I want to be like the man who rides the train without knowing where.  It’s the kind of feeling that makes you want to say good morning to every stranger and smile.

Almost 26.  It’s about time I go find it. 08/07/09

i want…

Inspired by another blogger as well as this morning’s frustration by another episode of sleeping past my alarm.  I’m making a list.

• my motivation for the gym back
• to fill my passport up with stamps from culturally beautiful countries
• to skip work and go to the gym
• to get a pedicure every month
• to never feel guilty for having chocolate every day
• to write for a living
• to have a home on the beach
• to be fluent in French
• to stop leaving my clothes in a pile at the foot of my bed after I wash them
• to buy new lingerie
• to have time for a dog
• to run a ten minute mile every time
• to have three day weekends (Friday, Saturday, and Sunday)
• a new digestive system and fast metabolism
• grow plants not kill them
• a muffin/cupcake tin
• a madeliene pan
• to not have the desire to make a list of wants because I have everything required for happiness
• to go to breakfast with one of my girlfriends
• to laugh uncontrollably for some reason every day
• a nice tan that doesn’t come from a bottle
• neighbors that aren’t slobs
• a big backyard for a dog and outdoor dinner parties
• new pillows
• more places to put my books
• an obscene amount of kitchenware and a place for all of it
• a treadmill with a flat screen tv right in front of it
• good running shoes
• a new wardrobe
• my bug bites to heal right now
• to call in sick
• to be magically good at surfing and parkour
• to have my motorcycle license and own a bike
  
• to remember everything I read

-Better get ready for work…