As none of you probably know this, since I am sure I have only told a few people… I love food: cooking, testing new recipes, attempting to show the world what I’m eating (my iPhone doesn’t take wonderful photos), and of course, eating. Baking and cooking are my favorite things in the world to do, and I feel that perhaps if I worked in a kitchen or wrote about food for a living I could be happy. Very very happy.
Other times, I realize that I’m rarely happy when I’m doing something because I’ve been told to do it…It makes the task drag on and on and on…And I’m on a mission: to change my way of thinking. Or, at least to find something that is so wonderful that I want to do it even if I’m assigned the job and have to do it for the rest of my life.
So, is this a difficult, daunting task? Hell yes it is. I’m scared that I’ll fail. I’m certain I success will take me on a long, possibly treacherous journey. “Nevertheless, I am willing.”
Long story short, I am going to start blogging about food much more than anyone could probably ever want to read about it… I take that back: that statement is doubly false: I can’t possibly blog about food more than anyone would want to read about it because 1) I’m incredibly lazy and 2) Everyone I know loves thinking, reading and talking about food enough that I would be hard-pressed to bore them with such a blog.
So get excited for my first blog about food coming up later this week.
It will be inspired by one of these two blog posts:
When you have a bad day, everything seems to be multiplicative…My day started out ok, just some unpleasant correspondence from the woman I’m renting a room from. Nothing too serious, she was just annoyed at me because SHE chose not to put HER phone on silent last night. Not my fault, but I was doomed to hear about it… even after I apologized, she still went on…
Then the weather was crap today (pouring down rain), so I drove to school. No big deal, usually. I even rather love the rain when I am inside, but my umbrella is kiiiiind of malfunctioning… When I got to class, everyone was worried because we were getting our German tests back today. After lecturing us for 10-15 minutes, she gave us our results. I got a C+ (which to be honest is better than I expected).
Obviously I didn’t feel like staying on campus for four and a half hours with nothing to do but read fifty pages of Gertrude Stein‘s Picasso. Then there was Walgreens…
Normally when I go to Walgreens I’m happy to be there because they have something I desperately need (usually feminine products). I put thirty cents in the parking meter (that is nine minutes for you non-San Franciscans) and went inside to exchange some foundation and buy tampons. I made the mistake of trying to find a better shade of foundation than the orangey one I had previously picked. I found one I thought would work better and then went to pay.
Apparently, all of this took longer than nine minutes, as when I went back out, the parking cop was putting a ticket on my windshield! He said to me, “I’m sorry, I’ve already written the citation. You need to put money in even if you’re going to be quick.” As though I had tried to avoid paying a measly few cents! I was enraged. Flabbergasted. Incensed. Above all, though, I felt dejected. I have never gotten a real parking ticket before, and at my undergrad University, I had always fought them if I missed. Sometimes I even got the ticket forgiven. Nevertheless, I had never had a $62 ticket before.
So, I sat in my car and cried like a child. Tears streaming down my face as they hadn’t done in at least a few months, I felt petty, but also vindicated in my upset-state. I am allowed to be upset when I get a parking ticket whether I deserve it or not, am I right?