Sunday, January 23, 2011

A Sunday spent preparing for Monday...

I am a horrible person.  I spent the weekend doing frivolous things.

On Thursday, finally having a moment to myself after school, I decided since my cupboards were doing their best imitation of Mother Hubbard's, that I'd go grocery shopping.

Up and down the countless aisles of my local grocery store, I looked at so many different things and had so many different ideas for things I wanted to eat, I realized I couldn't do them all.  Being on a budget smarts sometimes, so I opted for sliced chicken breast and the ingredients to my family's famous Chicken Spaghetti (spaghetti in a creamy mushroom, garlic, onion sauce with stewed tomatoes).  It, of course, went well because it's the one recipe I've cooked ad nauseum over the last 10 years.  Only problem was when it came time to boil my pasta, I turned on the wrong burner, charring a perfectly good wooden spoon and of course, the bottom of the pan that I would be creating the recipe in.  I'm such a klutz.

But, after scouring the bottom of the pan with an SOS pad and abandoning the helplessly charred wooden spoon to the bottom of a sink full of soapy water, I created a tasty casserole that has been feeding me for the last couple of days.

Friday was, as I hate to admit, a day devoted to my priest in World of Warcraft.  This will sound so bad, but I got up at around 10 a.m. and was at the computer by 10:30.  I did 10 levels in a matter of a day, hurtling her poor little body from level 40 to level 50 in a matter of about 12 hours.  My friend Michelle summed it up in one phrase, "That's nuts."  Yes.  I know.  But, seeing as that I don't really have a life outside of school, I thought that for a blow-off day, that I thought was intentionally there for me to take a rest, it wasn't a bad way to spend it.  To be honest, I never thought that little priest of mine would ever see the outside of a major city's bank or auction house.  Now that she's out in the world, I think it's a good lesson to myself and it reminds me why I get up four days a week for two classes I don't like and two that I have to see the world, have experiences, getting out there to make it happen.  

Saturday night saw me take more things from my grocery shopping to create my family's Five Cup Salad.  That's right, a pound of cottage cheese mixed with a small can of strained crushed pineapple, a strained can of fruit cocktail, an eight ounce tub of Cool Whip and of course a packet of lime jell-o.  Now, as this may sound a bit unorthodox and for some of you rather, um, disgusting, but I have to say, it turned out beautifully.  The trick is to make sure the fruit is drained completely, then after you're done stirring everything together, leave it in the refrigerator for about two hours before serving so the gelatin has a chance to set up a bit.  It's heavenly.  Light and fluffy, and oh so sweet, it's a bit of something healthy even though it's got enough sweetness to make the heartiest of sweet-tooth's only take a couple of spoonfuls.  But it is great for a snack.  It's kind of like healthy ice cream.

I do love to cook.  I guess that's why after taking the shopping trip on Thursday, making sure I fed myself for the week, I could blow off for a day and not think about having to mess up the kitchen again and wisely avoid the inevitable pratfalls of me scorching a pan, burning a wooden spoon or setting something aflame.

All the while, my schoolbooks have been sitting in a corner.  $400 worth of knowledge just waiting for me to crack them open.  Tonight, after going to my parents for the traditional family Sunday Steak Dinner (with baked potatoes, mushrooms, green beans and a salad), I headed home with a singular purpose, to read.  I had a chapter to cover in the Personal Growth textbook, cornily entitled I Never Knew I Had A Choice, directly followed by two chapters of my Global Media text, Comparing Media From Around The World.  Yeah, not a lot of fun on a Sunday night, but let's face it, I suffer of my own doing.  I could have easily spaced out the reading over the three days, but I didn't.  I figured I'd retain more for my classes if I did the reading the night before.  Nooooooo.  I should have just placed them on my bed (yes, I sleep with books...hey, you know any guy who wants to hook up with me?  Yeah, neither do I, so the books will just have to do.)  I do a lot of reading in bed, I am kept company by Dark-Hunters, gun-wielding ad men who live to blast a hole through the Snuggle bear's head, technopunks, stoic philosophers and a book of crossword puzzles.  In my bed, the only action happening is paper cuts, so to do my school reading before bed every night would make sense.  Haven't we covered the fact I don't have common sense to pee on?  Yeah, we're there again.

So, it's Sunday night.  I get the books and my syllabi out and commence reading.  The chapter in my Personal Growth book was 36 pages long.  At page 8 I started looking for how long the chapter was.  At seeing it ended on page 36, I rolled my eyes, turned on the Soundscapes channel on my cable box and tucked myself in on my couch with a big fleece blanket.  I picked up a surprise for myself the other day, a Caribbean Salsa candle from Bath and Body Works.  So, as you can imagine, with a wooden stool next to where I was laying acting as a faux table, I placed my Coke bottle on it, lit the candle on the coffee table and started reading, taking notes and finding out what lay in store for me.  To be blunt, I think this class is like my Environmental Studies class from last semester...a real drag that I unfortunately know what's in the book because I've already lived it.  So, at least the reading is done for that one for the week.

The two chapters in my Global Media book were another problem altogether.  The type is small, but lucky for all of us, the chapters are only 13 pages long.  I did a lot of skimming.  I usually don't skim, but in this case, most of it was already covered by Doc Fish in class last Wednesday so there wasn't much point to that set of readings.

It was then that my timer showed up on my television, the ultimate bloggers movie "Julie and Julia" was playing again.  I saw it as a sign.  I needed a break, and after about 75 pages of reading, I was due, it was time to come and write.

It's 9:45 p.m.  I have to go to bed in about an hour so that way I can be well rested, chipper and perky for two classes that have all of the nutritional value of cardboard.  But, as I reminded myself as I dressed to go to my parents, the week finishes with Doc S. and Intro to IMC, so I'm basically doing what anyone with a normal workweek would for the last hour of the week, come home, cook, laugh, play and remember that I'm doing all of this for a singular purpose.  A job.  A well-paying job and an educational record and portfolio that shows that I'm worth having people throw money at me.

It's Sunday night, my clothes are washed, folded and put away, I've read and I'm sufficiently sated in the hunger department.  I feel like I'm 13 all over again.  It's a school night and it baffles me completely that people haven't really realized that school (and work) all start on Sunday night with endless preparation.

With that, I tip my hat to the ultimate blogger's movie, Julie and Julia, with a song from its' soundtrack, a little piece by Alexander Desplat called (ironically) "Starting Out." (That I had to dig to find and ultimately found it on a Russian website.)  It reminds me, I really should give a shout out to all my readers around the world...I'm studying your media practices, so why not include you here?

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