SUDDENLY SHE REALIZED SHE WAS FAST BECOMING ONE OF ‘THOSE’ BLOGGERS
Remember when I was obsessed with bento lunches a while back? Yeah, I hardly do myself. Turns out it’s not the cheapest thing on earth, if you do it the all out saccharine way. That is, all the reasons I’d initially wanted to. I’d also begun to reacquaint myself with sandwiches, making them less tedious and something I actually look forward to for once. (This has always been the hardest part of the midday meal for me. I think it was mostly the bread. You get good wheaty bread (or an onion bagel!) and then suddenly a sandwich is much more than a sandwich.) So while I still pined it mostly at an arms length kind of wistfulness. Portability was still an issue, but what can you do. Then! I stumbled upon some tempting rubbermaid containers at King Soopers, along with this post that assured me that there is life beyond the Martha Stewart bento. There is the Natalie Dee* bento.
Then, I was at the dollar store tonight at saw this:
Hello. Kitty. Bento box. It’s only about 738 ml total (top portion: 450, bottom: 288), but upon looking at this chart and adjusting for activity level, perhaps it’s just right. I also have a square thing with locking wings for sandwich days, but this may begin operation Test The Lunch Options. This semester I have the luxury of being able to eat at home every single day, but sometimes that cuts it close and who am I not to be adventurous? I may or may not bore you with my findings (I mean for the love of beans…it’s my lunch), but just know that I have rekindled the obsession.
*As in, Natalie Dee is the anti-Martha Stewart. This is something she once claimed but something I cannot, at the moment, verify. Ms. Dee is the suicide girl to Ms. Stewart’s blond norm. Ms. Dee approximates, makes videos about godawaful food, and rocks the domestic world by, well, not being all that domestic.
DEAR SUBCONSCIOUS: HOLD THE PATHOS AND STICK TO THE WACKY
Am I really going to get stuck until I talk about that thing I don’t particularly want to talk about? It seems I am.
Last night I had a guilt-dream. It centered around my clan from high school that I was pretty close with despite our slow and inevitable drifting apart over the years. This is not unique. I know that most people experience this. Because as new stuff happens and you experience it with new people these new people are going to seem more relevant and real to you, so that despite all those long hours you’ve clocked in with people A, you’re going to want to hang out more with people B, because you identify with them more, because they’ve witnessed you through experience x, and they were there when thing y happened, and you stayed up with them so they wouldn’t feel all weepy about thing z. I think I’m not explaining this well enough.
Recently I went camping with one of these old friends, the one with whom I am closest. We had an incredible time, but of course there were occasionally strange silent moments, some awkward moments, that would never in a million years have occurred back when we were kickin’ it on the same frequency all the time. Really this should not shock or discourage — the fact that we were on the same frequency about 88% of the time was stellar, all things considered — but of course it was strange to see us experience the awkward.
So I dreamed of a gaggle of these people coming to visit and I basiccally ignored them and left my Mom (?) to entertain, and get them dinner (McDonald’s, as opposed to the delicious chili Anthony and I ate*). They got all passive-aggressive snide with me a little, and eventually left and I felt awful in the dream and felt indignant when I woke up.
*This tidbit was taken directly from life, as I made some KILLER CHILI last night. It was the most satisfying meal I’d had in ages, was the tastiest chili I’d ever had, and it wasn’t made with the dredges of burnt hamburger meat like it is at Wendy’s. And old high school friends: if you gave me any kind of warning at all, I would make it for you. I would. And if there wasn’t time I certainly could do better than McDonald’s. God.
What I’m getting at is all this distance and new people and lack of contact, despite pathetically easy modes through the internet such as facebook and myspace, should say nothing about actual desire or opinions of people. I am pathetically lazy when it comes to writing and have always been. When I make the occasional reach and it isn’t reciprocated I don’t get all mad and ignore you, rather I just think “meh, she’s busy too,” and go on with my life. If this offends you, maybe it’s time to get some immediate friends to occupy your time (zing! oh burn!)
I guess I bring this up because there’s been some weird petty crap going on in my immediate circle, so my desire to be social at all is basically gone. So the fact that my brain served this up to me just aggravates. Can it, brain. These days it’s a moot point. These days I prefer to stay home and make KILLER CHILI. And gee what else is there to do? Oh yeah: read novels for class, read dense segments on linguistics, read articles on Hegel’s dialectic, write a compelling paper on the baffling narration Buchi Emecheta uses in The Bride Price, build public notices for the newspaper as per the request of the Public Trustee, the city, various lawyers and whoever else needs them, continue work on the painting I started last week, come up with some stuff to share with some other design students on Tuesday (um, yeah..the professor basically said, want to come anyway? No credit but some hands on time? Of course my answer was a slobbering yes yes yes!)..and so on. That’s roughly two days work. And where’s the part where I eat? Or bathe? Or watch the netflix movies with Anthony? Sleep? Hmm.
But hey, the weekend’s coming. And I made some great chili. And I have a new bento box. And I’m sort of in illustration. AND THE WEATHER IS SO, SO GREAT what with the wind being slightly cool. And it being REALLY cool at night. Oh yes indeed. Fall doth approacheth.
