Rest now, my friends
So, interesting story that will be hilarious mostly if you're my mother.
Last night I was at Ian's mom's huge birthday dinner: she was really pleased because someone had cared enough to do an unauthorized Arabic translation of one of her books and had decided to invite pretty much everyone who might want food. The main course was this interesting salmon-loaf thing that had salmon, rice, crust and lots of unknown ingredients. Fish isn't usually my thing, but I like salmon a bit, so I grabbed some and started eating.
I gagged five times on the first bite. No, I'm not kidding or exaggerating: one reasonably-sized bite and I was having to exercise a frightening amount of self-control to not spoil the event by vomiting onto my plate. I eventually got my stomach calmed down and spent a while very creatively moving my food around: there have been enough truly mysterious dishes at past family gatherings that I'm fairly good at it. Since my stomach had evidently declared war on the main dish, I ate some bread and made conversation. Eventually Ian, who was sitting next to me, noticed that I wasn't actually eating and very quietly asked if I didn't like it. After my equally quiet and diplomatic "not really, no" he pulled the most subtle plate-switch I've ever seen and ate all my salmon-whatsit in under two minutes before looking for more bread. I am in awe of college boys and their eating skills. After a while of this, we all had tasty dessert in the form of funky chocolate cake and, after hearing that Elyssa had gotten a last-minute invitation to a party and couldn't pick me up to spend the night as planned, I went back to Ian's place for some computer games. (No, that is not a euphemism for something.) I explained exactly why I hadn't eaten his mom's cooking and he theorized that I'm violently allergic to some unidentified ingredient.
My stomach felt a little odd but I ignored it on the grounds that I'd gotten enough to eat and I didn't want to go crazy with the munchies if I was going to try to go to sleep soon. Greg and Ian went upstairs to either continue gaming in bed or sleep and I tried to sleep on the couch, which is actually quite comfortable. It's around one-thirty or so, so I thought I should be able to drift off. I promptly began suffering from my stomach deciding to act up. At around two I realized that I was craving something and tried to figure out what: cravings when I'm sick tend to be helpful. Suddenly it hit me. I was craving Chef Boyardee Spaghetti Rings and Meatballs: Beef-O-Getti, as it was called when I was four and ate it. "No way," I thought. "This is ridiculous and there is no reason that cheap pasta will do anything to help the situation." Another ten or so minutes pass, with my stomach not improving a bit, so I thought "Fine" and stalked into the kitchen, where I was reasonably sure that I'd left a can of the stuff some evening. It was there, so I spooned it into a bowl, muttering to myself all the while. I started the microwave. Partway through this process, Ian materialized in the kitchen with hilarious bed-head: he'd been having insomnia and wondered what sane person would be eating anything at that hour.
I sheepishly explained my late-night craving while eating the pasta and moving to the couch. Ian offered to make me some tea or something if that would help, but I realized that my stomach pain was easing up and told him it was okay. He tried to get me to trade sleeping places on the grounds that "you're sick" until I pointed out that I clearly wasn't anymore and refused to leave the couch. Chivalry thwarted, he gave me a hug and went back upstairs. Within ten minutes, my stomach didn't hurt anymore and I had passed out on the couch.
Moral of the story: Beef-o-Getti is excellently magical.
And now for assorted bits that are interesting even if you aren't Mom.
-End of the semester relaxation feels really good.
-All of my exams are done but I only have my grades back for two classes: B- in symbolic logic and A in English 121 (the second British literature course.)
-Almost all my Christmas shopping is done, thanks to the Bull's Head (campus bookstore) and its excellent sales.
-I did like the December and hanging out with my friends there, but not quite as much as I'd thought because everyone was so stressed. Ian and I ended up eating dinner in a hurry at Franklin Street Pizza and Pasta because he'd promised to let the DJ in at seven, only to learn that Helen had told the DJ not to show up until 7:45 or so. Given that we'd both wanted Pepper's, which takes just long enough that we couldn't do it, learning that we'd had the time was...vexing. After that we had arranged snacks and the DJ did okay music: Ian and I gave up on him ever playing anything in 3/4 time and just waltzed to a few slow-ish songs. There should be pictures up on facebook eventually, but I'm not sure exactly when. Don't get me wrong: I didn't hate the December, but people were stressed enough over finals that people kept fighting in the hallway.
-I sold back some of my textbooks, but I'm keeping the air power stuff and my Norton English anthology, partly because I remember Canney, my high school English teacher, having all of his old ones around and using them to make examples. While I don't see myself teaching, it would be nice to have the old books around for reference.
-The worst exam schedule I saw was Ian's: two on Thursday and two on Friday. The silly boy didn't get any of them moved, so he was incredibly loopy after the last final.
-I still had 20 meals left partway through this week, so I've been feeding anyone who wanted food this week. However, I'm not as crazily oversupplied as Emma, who had 80 in mid-December and had to drag people to the dining hall at every opportunity to get rid of some meals.
-The air power TAs finally gave us back the dialectics (10-page papers that are 30% of our grade) and I got an A on mine. WIN.
-This semester has seemed both incredibly long and really short, and I'm not sure which way to look at it. College time is odd.
Last night I was at Ian's mom's huge birthday dinner: she was really pleased because someone had cared enough to do an unauthorized Arabic translation of one of her books and had decided to invite pretty much everyone who might want food. The main course was this interesting salmon-loaf thing that had salmon, rice, crust and lots of unknown ingredients. Fish isn't usually my thing, but I like salmon a bit, so I grabbed some and started eating.
I gagged five times on the first bite. No, I'm not kidding or exaggerating: one reasonably-sized bite and I was having to exercise a frightening amount of self-control to not spoil the event by vomiting onto my plate. I eventually got my stomach calmed down and spent a while very creatively moving my food around: there have been enough truly mysterious dishes at past family gatherings that I'm fairly good at it. Since my stomach had evidently declared war on the main dish, I ate some bread and made conversation. Eventually Ian, who was sitting next to me, noticed that I wasn't actually eating and very quietly asked if I didn't like it. After my equally quiet and diplomatic "not really, no" he pulled the most subtle plate-switch I've ever seen and ate all my salmon-whatsit in under two minutes before looking for more bread. I am in awe of college boys and their eating skills. After a while of this, we all had tasty dessert in the form of funky chocolate cake and, after hearing that Elyssa had gotten a last-minute invitation to a party and couldn't pick me up to spend the night as planned, I went back to Ian's place for some computer games. (No, that is not a euphemism for something.) I explained exactly why I hadn't eaten his mom's cooking and he theorized that I'm violently allergic to some unidentified ingredient.
My stomach felt a little odd but I ignored it on the grounds that I'd gotten enough to eat and I didn't want to go crazy with the munchies if I was going to try to go to sleep soon. Greg and Ian went upstairs to either continue gaming in bed or sleep and I tried to sleep on the couch, which is actually quite comfortable. It's around one-thirty or so, so I thought I should be able to drift off. I promptly began suffering from my stomach deciding to act up. At around two I realized that I was craving something and tried to figure out what: cravings when I'm sick tend to be helpful. Suddenly it hit me. I was craving Chef Boyardee Spaghetti Rings and Meatballs: Beef-O-Getti, as it was called when I was four and ate it. "No way," I thought. "This is ridiculous and there is no reason that cheap pasta will do anything to help the situation." Another ten or so minutes pass, with my stomach not improving a bit, so I thought "Fine" and stalked into the kitchen, where I was reasonably sure that I'd left a can of the stuff some evening. It was there, so I spooned it into a bowl, muttering to myself all the while. I started the microwave. Partway through this process, Ian materialized in the kitchen with hilarious bed-head: he'd been having insomnia and wondered what sane person would be eating anything at that hour.
I sheepishly explained my late-night craving while eating the pasta and moving to the couch. Ian offered to make me some tea or something if that would help, but I realized that my stomach pain was easing up and told him it was okay. He tried to get me to trade sleeping places on the grounds that "you're sick" until I pointed out that I clearly wasn't anymore and refused to leave the couch. Chivalry thwarted, he gave me a hug and went back upstairs. Within ten minutes, my stomach didn't hurt anymore and I had passed out on the couch.
Moral of the story: Beef-o-Getti is excellently magical.
And now for assorted bits that are interesting even if you aren't Mom.
-End of the semester relaxation feels really good.
-All of my exams are done but I only have my grades back for two classes: B- in symbolic logic and A in English 121 (the second British literature course.)
-Almost all my Christmas shopping is done, thanks to the Bull's Head (campus bookstore) and its excellent sales.
-I did like the December and hanging out with my friends there, but not quite as much as I'd thought because everyone was so stressed. Ian and I ended up eating dinner in a hurry at Franklin Street Pizza and Pasta because he'd promised to let the DJ in at seven, only to learn that Helen had told the DJ not to show up until 7:45 or so. Given that we'd both wanted Pepper's, which takes just long enough that we couldn't do it, learning that we'd had the time was...vexing. After that we had arranged snacks and the DJ did okay music: Ian and I gave up on him ever playing anything in 3/4 time and just waltzed to a few slow-ish songs. There should be pictures up on facebook eventually, but I'm not sure exactly when. Don't get me wrong: I didn't hate the December, but people were stressed enough over finals that people kept fighting in the hallway.
-I sold back some of my textbooks, but I'm keeping the air power stuff and my Norton English anthology, partly because I remember Canney, my high school English teacher, having all of his old ones around and using them to make examples. While I don't see myself teaching, it would be nice to have the old books around for reference.
-The worst exam schedule I saw was Ian's: two on Thursday and two on Friday. The silly boy didn't get any of them moved, so he was incredibly loopy after the last final.
-I still had 20 meals left partway through this week, so I've been feeding anyone who wanted food this week. However, I'm not as crazily oversupplied as Emma, who had 80 in mid-December and had to drag people to the dining hall at every opportunity to get rid of some meals.
-The air power TAs finally gave us back the dialectics (10-page papers that are 30% of our grade) and I got an A on mine. WIN.
-This semester has seemed both incredibly long and really short, and I'm not sure which way to look at it. College time is odd.