SURPRISE!!!

I'M ENGAGED!!!









Hahahahahahahahahahaha. Did I manage to fool you, or do you know me well enough to know that it's not even remotely close to a possibility at this point in my life? Basically, I have found the perfect method for eliminating awkward babysitting situations.

Let me elaborate.

Situation 1:

Stranger approaches Jillian accompanying small child in grocery store. Stranger comments on how cute small child is, asks how old, asks what preschool small child will be attending in the fall, assuming Jillian is the mother. Jillian responds with, "Oh yes, he'll be going to ____________ in the fall!" Stranger thinks Jillian is a very young, possibly teenage, unwed mother. Jillian feels uncomfortable with this conclusion and tries to get out of the situation as soon as possible.


Situation 2:

Stranger approaches Jillian accompanying small child in grocery store. Stranger comments on how cute small child is, asks how old, asks what preschool small child will be attending in the fall, assuming Jillian is the mother. Jillian responds with, "Oh, I'm just the babysitter." Stranger thinks he or she has made Jillian feel uncomfortable. Jillian thinks she has made stranger feel uncomfortable. Both back away from the other slowly.


TODAY, MY FRIENDS, THIS PROBLEM HAS BEEN SOLVED.


Situation 3:

Stranger approaches Jillian accompanying small child in grocery store. Stranger comments on how cute small child is, asks how old, asks what preschool small child will be attending in the fall, assuming Jillian is the mother. Jillian responds with, "Oh yes, he'll be going to ____________ in the fall!" Stranger thinks Jillian is a very young married mother, Jillian feels justified with her slightly deceptive $2.80 ring, while both stranger and Jillian walk away from situation awkwardness-free.


And there you have it.


P.S. The picture makes it look like the ring is on my right hand. It's actually on my left; Photobooth just flips pictures, and it looked weird to have it flipped back to normal. I do, in fact, know the difference between right and left.

HOO-RAH.

Today I had an epiphany. Maybe one that I already had, but here it is.


I NEED A JOB.


Therefore, I applied for six jobs today, so that the next time someone asks, "How many jobs have you applied for since we last spoke?" (which happens more frequently than you think it does between friends, teachers, and parents...), I will be able to reply with a respectable answer.

Here is where I will commence kicking butt at this employment thing.

This video is a little long, but it's incredibly inspiring. Watch it.

On Night Walks and Music

Taking walks at night has always been a thought-clearing experience for me. I think this phenomenon stemmed from taking "night walks" with my parents when I was very, very small. Vermont is beautiful all the time, but it's especially quiet and peaceful late at night, when the darkness is vast and open, the stars twinkle brightly in the distant heavens, and the stillness makes you feel wonderfully small and insignificant.

The stillness of the fields in Vermont translates very well to the beaches in Massachusetts. I love walking along, listening to the waves splash on the shore and watching boats' lights shine on the horizon. The feeling of freedom - no one watching, no one caring - is what allows me to really feel the presence of God. Because I know that while I feel small and insignificant, while no one is watching or caring, the God who created this amazing vastness is also the God that created my small, insignificant soul, and it doesn't feel so insignificant anymore.

Tonight I didn't go to the beach, but I did decide to walk around campus at night. Not quite the beach, but still. I initially just intended to walk around the quad once to feel productive or something, but I ended up walking all over campus because I was thinking so much. I didn't even know I had that much to think about. In the beginning, it was mostly asking questions with an undercurrent of a hymn stuck in my head. Does that ever happen to you? Background music to your thoughts? Maybe that's just me. Slowly, the background music started getting louder; it gradually overtook the questions, and I realized that I had Jesus Loves Me stuck in my head.

Why is it that a song that you normally just pass off as a simple children's song suddenly hits you with a message that nearly brings you to tears? It doesn't just have to be a kids' song either. Beethoven's 7th, Tchaikovsky's 5th, Saint-Saens' 3rd, Brahms' 1st symphonies have all had the same effect on me at one point or another. Without warning, a melody or specific lyrics unveils a brief glimpse of the heart of the Creator, and regardless of hopes and joys, fears and sorrows, you recognize for a few blissful moments that nothing matters more than his love for his creation. Nothing on earth can replicate that kind of beauty.

Omnivorous Antipescetarian: Confirmed

I hate fish. Whoa.

Like the kind you eat, not the kind you keep in a bowl or a tank or whatever.

I had thought that maybe if I tried some again, maybe my last fish experience would have been long enough in the past that my taste buds would have matured and I would magically think that the taste and texture were the grandest things in the world. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

Last night, our choir had a very fancy end-of-the-year fête, including a gourmet meal with four courses: (hors d'oeuvres), soup, (palate cleanser), entrée, cheese, dessert. I took a lot of risks at this dinner. I ate both pea soup - the greenness of which has always perturbed me a bit - and foie gras. If you didn't know, that's made out of goose livers. Like I said...RISKS. (Good risks. As it turns out, pea soup is pretty tasty!)

But then came the salmon wrapped in bacon, covered with oyster sauce.

Dread came over me. What should I do? I resolved to try it. Be brave. Show the world that you are not intimidated by your food. It sat like a lump on my plate. Why is it so pink? I like red meat...but red fish? I cut off a large bite. No sample sizes here. Whole hog. I put the fish in my mouth and chewed. This texture is different then I imagined.

Then I tasted it.

Oh gosh. It's getting fishier...and fishier...and FISHIER! AHHHHH!!! IT'S LIKE EATING CAPE COD!!! QUICK! DRINK WATER! EAT BACON!! MUST. EVICT. FISH. FLAVOR. IMMEDIATELY.

At this point, I knew that I could not subject myself to eating another bite.

I know without a doubt that it was not the fish that was bad. Everyone around me was saying how splendid it was, how finely prepared, how flavorful, etc. I commend the cooks and servers for their top-notch cooking and serving. I wanted for nothing, and the evening was delightful. With the fish came green beans and mashed potatoes, which I ate with great appreciation and rapidity.

I did, however, discover that I really, really can't handle seafood. It seems to be anathema to me. Be forewarned, those of you who dine with me regularly.

I like lists.

Do you have a rich-and-famous list? I do. Now, before you get all weirded out and wonder why I want to go off and meet rich and famous people, let me explain. (Although honestly...who would complain about meeting rich and famous people?)

This is a stuff-I-will-do-when-I-am-rich-and-famous list, but I'm lazy and I don't want to write that all out every time I reference said list. Thus, we have the rich-and-famous list. (Also, this list excludes giving to charity, because that would be a given.)

TRAAAAAAVEL.

Traveling is pretty much my favorite thing to do ever. Problem: international travel requires a lot of money. Hence, it goes on the list. Destinations include Norway, Ireland, France, Italy (ROME!), Turkey, Greece, Iceland, Wales, and Mongolia.


[source]


Oboe Lessons/Baroque Oboe

Lessons with some really important people, because they generally know what they're doing, and I could learn a lot from them. And a Baroque oboe because it sounds cool.


...Clothes...

Al-RIGHT already. So maybe I'm materialistic. But I like clothes that are nice, and if I were rich and famous, I'd buy some.


Red Sox Tickets

Because I've never been to a game. And I've lived near Boston for four freakin' years now. You'd think I'd have done that already.


iPhone.

Duh.


Ballroom Dance

Because it's fun. And doesn't everyone want to be Fred Astaire and/or Ginger Rogers?


[source]

I can't keep this up because you'll get bored. But other stuff is on there too, like owning an estate, a time portal, a fancy-schmancy camera, a cat, and an unclaimed island where I could resurrect Latin.

What's on your list?

Mini Bread-Muffins

Hey, hey, it's been a pretty long while since I posted anything about food! That's terrible. I love food. But I'm living in a regular dorm again, so cooking food is no longer as easy as it was in The Apartment.

Today, however, I was babysitting, which meant full access to a usable kitchen!

(Aside: doesn't grammar dictate that you should use "an" before a word that starts with a vowel? Why don't words that start with u count?)

I decided that bread-baking sounded like a good plan to do with kids. They can mix everything together, and THEN!! they get to mush the dough all around with their hands! It was perfect.

I used the following recipe for Crusty White Bread:

2 packets of yeast
2 cups of warm water
2 Tbs. sugar
1 Tbs. salt
1/2 c. vegetable oil
6 - 6 1/2 c. flour

Dissolve the yeast in the water. Follow instructions on the packet.

Mix the sugar, salt, oil, and 3 cups of the flour together, then mix with the yeast mixture.

When it's well blended, add more flour until the dough is easy to handle.

Place the dough on a floured board (or counter) and knead for 8 - 10 minutes or until dough is smooth and elastic.

Place dough in greased bowl, cover, and let rise for 45 minutes.

After dough has doubled in size, punch it down, separate it into two loaves, place in greased and floured bread pans, and let rise for one hour.

Bake for 35 - 40 minutes at 400 degrees.


That's a pretty simple recipe, so I decided to make it more exciting. When we were mixing up the first ingredients, I dumped some cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves into the dough until it looked spicy. (For this type of thing I don't use measurements. Eyeball it...whatever looks good is probably right.) Then, instead of separating it into two loaves, I decided that we should make mini-bread, and we baked it in a muffin pan! I made a mixture of some butter, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves and brushed it on top of each mini bread-muffin as a sort of glaze. Since they were smaller, I cut the baking time down to 20 minutes.

They turned out great!



And they're highly kid-friendly. Seriously. Beyond the kneading fun, the kids get to mix things, watch the dough "grow like a plant," smell the wonderful aroma of baking cinnamon, and feel accomplished that they made something. Also - IT'S HEALTHY! I mean, let's face it...even with the glaze it has no more than a total of 4 tablespoons of sugar. What's not to like?

Fun at Work

Ok, so I know I'm supposed to be getting a real job and all, but honestly, babysitting is kinda fun. I mean, how often do YOU get to have someone do your hair, dress you up in a fancy evening gown made out of a large green blanket, and pretend that you're a movie star for 45 minutes at a time? I even had a photographer.

He was 4.

But still.



I felt so pampered.

Even if my hair was held in place by marker-covered popsicle sticks.

Best part of summer?

OOOOOOOOOOH EEEEEEEEEEEEEMMM GEEEEEEEEEEEE. (That's code for "Oh my gosh," if you couldn't read it due to the excessive letters.)

Why the exclamation, you ask? I will inform you. Harry Potter (the finale, of course) will be in theaters on July 15th, and the they have finally released the trailer. It looks pretty epic. If you haven't jumped on the Harry Potter train by now, it's time you did. Just saying.

Tales of Me & the Roommate

Meghanne is my eternal roommate. Ok, not LITERALLY eternal, but we've lived together for two years now, and we're cohabitating yet again for the summer. Who's to say we won't live together forever?


That nice picture is all fine and dandy, but it doesn't really sum up our relationship. Let me try again.


Ahh. Much, much better.

In any case, today I will tell you a story about me and Meghanne.

(Preface: Meghanne and I have a slight...affinty for weddings. Not our weddings. Just weddings in general.)

Setting: Wednesday night, junior year of college. 10 pm.

"Meghanne, we've had the longest day ever. I'm so, so tired. And yet, I don't want to go to bed yet," says Jillian. "I KNOW. LET'S GO TO THE GROCERY STORE AND GET WEDDING MAGAZINES AND WATCH THE WEDDING PLANNER!!!" replies Meghanne, all in verbal caps lock. Jillian finds this to be a brilliant idea. Generally, you wouldn't peg her as the let's-all-read-wedding-magazines-and-pick-our-engagement-rings kind of girl, but suddenly, the reading-wedding-magazines-and-watching-a-chick-flick part of Meghanne's plan seems to be the best plan in the entire world.

Jillian and Meghanne race to the grocery store. The clock on the dashboard reads 10:32. Luckily, Shaws is open until 11. Upon entering the store, they immediately recognize imminent danger: other Gordon students are grocery shopping! At risk of ruining their reputations as sensible people, they sneak to the magazine isle, and, disguising the incriminating material at the bottom of the basket by covering it discreetly with Ben and Jerry's ice cream, they make their way surreptitiously to the check out.

"Oooooh, are you getting married?" the check out lady asks politely and somewhat excitedly. Eyes on the conveyor belt, they reply in unison, "....noooo...." "Oh dear, I remember when I was your age. My girlfriends and I would get wedding magazines and watch girly movies while eating candy. It was so much fun. Is that what you're doing?"

Quickly, Meghanne comes up with an excuse to preserve our compromised feminine integrity. "My sister! (Sidenote: Meghanne is sister-less.) My sister is getting married and we're having a girly night with her and the rest of the bridesmaids and so we needed this magazine and the ice cream so that we could have our party and it's a surprise so we're getting it late tonight so there's no chance she'll be here."

The checkout lady may or may not have believed us. We will never know. What we do know is that we get safely back to campus, the magazine and ice cream double-bagged so that we won't be accused of being "typical Gordon girls" or "Ring-by-Spring fanatics."



Of course, by retelling this story, I've sort of already done that, haven't I?

Opportunity of Wonderful

Maybe you were not as interested in the Royal Wedding as I was, but regardless of whether you got up at the crack of dawn to watch it or not, you should find it interesting that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge are visiting Canada between June 30th and July 8th.

Better yet, they're stopping in Montreal, which, as we know from last year's escapade, is not so far from my house.

Conclusion: since a possible trip to Montreal was in the works anyway, we need to go over the first weekend in July.

(Because who would pass up an opportunity to see foreign royalty/the world's most famous couple in person?)


[souce]

Brohan the Second

yay i was watching tv when my sister called me and said that i should write on her wall so thats what i'm doing. so im going to tell you a story. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. "it was a dark and stormy night, and three men were sitting in a car and one of them said, "Lets tell a story", the other one said "ok i got one" and this is how it went. well anyway thats pretty much it.



(He's a funny one, that one. Did you laugh? I did. Well...maybe the first few times around.)

Way cool 2.

Guess what! I have TWO brothers! Christopher is a pretty cool person too. These pictures are from awhile ago, but I have a video of him too so maybe I'll put that up later.

 

I think I'll get him to guest blog tomorrow.

Be excited.

Fotobooth Fun

Hello world!

I am writing today in order to explain a photo collage which apparently grows larger upon the commencement of one clicking somewhere on the surface of it. This collage came to be in existence because my sister, the notorious and infamous Jillian Griffin, who i'm sure is known for her blog posts throughout the interwebs, opened photobooth on her computer... Apparently the fun does not end after this outrageous photo taking program is running. We spent nearly an hour creating funny and inexplainable facial expressions as well as body gestures to entertain ourselves in the evening.

One would think that you would use effects to have the most fun, but that is not the case. Simply have an excellent time on good old normal mode and off to the races one goes. You see, I have found that there is not so much ingenuity or perplexity involved in the making and observing of photos that rely simply on the effect to make them funny, like having two faces and four arms. All you really need is to have the soft susurration of your imagination prompt you, within three seconds, to plaster onto your features an indelible moment of creativity that is now saved to less than one kilobyte of space on your hard drive. Congrats you've made a photo!

Well over the course of that one hour, I had a most excellent and bodacious adventure. *Bill and Ted fans insert laugh here* I hope that everyone who reads this blog tries out their own version of photobooth or crystaleye or whatever type of program you have so that they all can have as much fun as my sister and I did. I dare you to try it :)

K, Later all

(Jillian's brother, not v v v)

Way cool.

Johann (the Brohan) and I are cool people. You can tell by looking at our fun pictures.

 

Aren't we the greatest? Or at least Jonathan is. (That's his real name. I refer to him as Johann.)

I think he should guest blog sometime. Maybe today.

Stacy and Clinton will probably hate me, but...

I was wearing a dress earlier today, but seeing as it was cold and rainy, I wanted to be cozier. Thus, I put on my Man Day shirt and have since been enjoying the lovely comfort of oversized flannel...


(For the record, Man Day was an apartment holiday this past year involving the aforementioned shirt, eating food, and hanging out with some of our manly friends.)

Should I be changing my life plans?

I've had weird dreams in the past...like one time I dreamt that two friends and I were living in Communist Russia. The Communists were hunting us down because they thought we were protestors, and the general populous was hunting us down because they thought we were raging Communists.

Like I said. Weird. That one didn't even make any sort of sense.

Well last night, I had another weird dream, except this one didn't involve anyone being hunted down.

It started out in a shopping mall in London. I was there with a friend - I can't remember which friend - and we found a whole rack of extraordinarily brightly colored corduroy pants, presumably at Gap. They were on super sale, so I was going to buy a pair of white ones and a pair of purple ones when I got distracted by some students I recognized from student teaching.

You know when you definitely know someone in a dream, but then you wake up and realize that the person you "knew" so well didn't actually look like said person at all? Maybe I'm the only one that experiences that...in any case, upon reflection, I'm pretty sure the students I ran into don't look anything like students I actually taught. Especially since their names were Holly Jane and Hailey, and I don't have any students with names like that.

However, dream details are inconsequential.

I chatted with them for awhile while my friend browsed the clothes some more. Suddenly, I was interrupted again, this time by someone by the rather well-known moniker Price Harry. (Or the less well-known moniker "His Royal Highness Prince Henry Charles Albert David of Wales.")

[source]

We proceeded to wander through the mall together mostly unnoticed expect for a few discreet paparazzi, and I thought to myself that I was probably going to end up on the cover of some sleazy tabloid distributed to grocery stores throughout the UK. I woke up to the echos of Prince Harry telling me that he really wanted to keep in touch by phone when I traveled back to the US later that day...

Personally, I have never even considered any sort of connection to the Royal Family through marriage or otherwise, nor have I ever been given to what could be considered a "celebrity crush," but apparently my subconscious is telling me that I have been misled by my conscious intelligence for the past 22 years. I don't really believe in dreams having meaning, but if they do, perhaps my life will be more exciting than I anticipated.

Everything

Today I'm presenting you with a smorgasbord of things. Maybe you'll find it boring, but I think it's all interesting.

The Sartorialist became one of my favorite blogs to read (slash look at) since my apartment buddy Michelle made me aware of it several months ago. I've never been the most fashionable person in the world, but I think the people in the pictures he takes always look so in style. I don't always like what they're wearing, but at the very least they're all extraordinarily chic. Today he posted my favorite picture yet, and so I'm going to put it here so you can appreciate it too.


I'm also going to give you a few more examples of the fantastic-ness just so your eyes can feast on things that are aesthetically pleasing.

("Aesthetic" has been my word of the day. I've used it about four times already in conversation.)




[The Sartorialist]


Secondly, here is another aesthetically pleasing thing.

LOOK. AT. THIS. CAKE.


[souce]


Thaaaaaaaat's it.

Appreciate its glory.

Revel in its presumed deliciousness.

Anticipate the day when it will be on my counter ready to eat...because it certainly will be.


Thirdly, the Unnamed Denominationalists are here again, which essentially means that it feels like all of Gordon came back for the week, except that everyone has aged thirty years and is wearing what could only be categorized as "mom clothes." (Sorry, Mom. For the record, your clothes don't look like that.) Problems with the Unnamed Denominationalists being here include ZERO PARKING on campus during the day, long lines for food, and odd worship music. Odd is not an understatement; we're talking piano, two saxophones, hand percussion, and lyrics along the same lines as the "Jesus is my Friend" video.



Actually, I think the video is a pretty good overall representation of the Unnamed Denominationalists. Intriguing.


Fourthly, I FINALLY turned in all the paperwork involved with student teaching today, which means that I can get a teaching license! Woo! I will be an official music teacher now. Scary thought, eh? I could be teaching your children how to sing do.

And re.

And mi.

And so on and so forth.

"DOOOOOOOO, a deer, a feeeeemale deeeeeer...." Except not like that at all. No one learns to sing that well that fast.


Fifthly, I've bought some new clothes recently. Would it be a good idea (and/or not vain idea) to do an outfit post sometime? Opinions, please!


Finally, I need a good book to read. Any suggestions?

Just thinking...

I've spent a good amount of time with very young children as of late. These kids are between the ages of 2 and 4, and all of them have distinct personalities. It's absolutely amazing watching them; they're creative, brilliant, eager, and unabashedly unique. They are completely free from peer pressure, and they are unafraid to do crazy things like laugh with joy over an inchworm or climb something tall just because they can. They are completely confident because they have no sense of self-consciousness or insecurity. Unspoiled by the knowledge of evil, they are incredibly trusting and will love unconditionally anyone who shows them the same kind of love.

I think we, as adults (or quasi-adults) underestimate how much we can learn from them. I am constantly amazed at how simple and honestly beautiful existence is for them, and I wish I could be more like that.

Jesus said to have faith like children. Is this what he was talking about?

An Instrumentalist's Guide to the Wind Ensemble

It occurred to me this evening that a non-musician might have a hard time identifying with my more music-focused posts, so I've decided to give you the following: An Instrumentalist's Guide to the Wind Ensemble. Inspired, of course, by Benjamin Britten's "A Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra," which may be the only tonal thing Britten ever wrote.

[I feel it is appropriate here for me to mention how much I hate, loathe, detest, and/or abhor Britten's Metamophoses, which is a standard piece of oboe repertoire. Abnormal opinion: yes. Understandable opinion: abso-freakin'-lutely.]

So...for your education, a guide to the wind ensemble.


Instruction: "Please play from measures 24 - 58."

[The following are reactions elicited from various instruments.]

Flutes: OH MY GOOOOOOOOSH!! Our conductor is like, soooooo cute. Should we like, listen? Oh. By the way. I'm SO much better at playing fast notes than you are. Like, really. But seriously, he's like....heeheeheeheehee!

Oboes: Yes, sir. We will play those measures. Would you like them louder or softer? Where would be the best place to breathe? Can we tune again? Everything seems out of tune. We've noticed what you've been saying about the music, and, as oboists, we wish to continually strive for more perfect perfection.

Clarinets: Ok. [proceed to play, but no one can tell because it's too quiet.]

Saxophones: [blank stare.]

Horns: What's that? It's marked pianissimo? MAKE THAT TRIPLE FORTE.

Trumpets: I can play it better than YOU can. Yeah. Bring it. I'm principal.

Trombones: Oh, whatever. We still have five pages before we come in.

Tuba: TUUUUUUUU-BAAAAAAAAA. [plays low notes four octaves lower than written.]

Percussion: Dude....whaaaat? Music?

Conductor: I. AM. GOD.



So there you have it. Now you know everything there is to know about a wind ensemble, concert band, or your musician friends.

(Please note that this is all in jest. I love people from every instrument group.)

Jour de Boston avec Sara et Moi

I love it when normal plans turn into great adventures, don't you? I mean, there was that one time when Diana and I went on an errands run and it morphed into a grand day of exploring. It was the best day ever.

Today was a day like that.

Sara and I have been friends since 4th grade (ish), so we have a lot of adventure stories. Usually when we get together, it involves baking things. You can learn all about our baking adventures here, here, and here.

While our expedition today did indeed involve food, we didn't actually make it ourselves. Weird, I know.

This picture isn't from today, but I've put it here anyway to make you jealous. I'm nice like that.

Sara had never been to Pinkberry because she went to Wheaton out in the faraway land of Illinois, so this was new for her. It was thoroughly enjoyable for both of us, because...let's be honest.

WHO IN HIS OR HER RIGHT MIND DOESN'T LIKE PINKBERRY??

Right. No one.

In any case, we finished our glorious frozen yogurt topped with mochi, chocolate things, waffle cookies, and (in Sara's case - remember how I don't like fruit?) pineapple. Then we had to go find Sara's car.

As previously mentioned, Sara has lived in the faraway land of Illinois for the last four years and therefore doesn't know where things are around Boston. Totally understandable. However, I'm a little weird and I absolutely love driving in the city. I know pretty much the musical area of Boston, so finding an obscure street in Charlestown was going to be a challenge. Especially since both of us are from Vermont and therefore don't think to bring or even own a GPS. Go figure.

(My camera is currently elsewhere. I'm putting in random pictures of Sara and me right here so you get the general idea of us.)

This is already long enough so I will give you a very brief (written) snapshot of what went down next: Figure out where we need to end up. Take 93 North. Take correct exit. Unfamiliar territory. Turn around. Realize we don't want to pay the $3.00 Tobin Bridge toll. Get off at a random exit. Turn into a sketchy area. Lock car doors. Drive in circles in the general direction of the Tobin Bridge. Find a road that leads to 28 South which joins Storrow Drive. Find Route 1 South. Find correct exit. Find where we need to go. Elapsed time: 45 minutes. Stop signs ignored: 1. Mom-arm flinging: 1. Missed exits: 2. Times we were actually lost: 0.

We decided that getting turned around in Boston is fun. Somehow, that seems paradoxical to me.

Cake Pops!

CHECK IT.

I discovered this book at Target the other day, and while I didn't buy it immediately - though perhaps I should have - I've decided that I need it.

[source]

They's so cute! So the next cookbook (bakebook?) I buy will be this one. Without question.

1920

Awhile ago, I decided that I could have done very well in a few different time periods. One of these was the Pride and Prejudice era, which was during the Napoleonic Wars (between 1797 and 1815.)

The other was during the 1920s, mainly because of the flappers.

Quote of Genius

I failed at continuing the word of the day, mainly because I didn't blog the last two days. Sorry. Instead, I will tell you the best quote I heard today. It came from my dear apartment-mate-now-summer-roommate Lauren.

Upon discussion of what makes for good blogging material, she said, "It might be harder later in life to find good things. College is like a hotbed of spontaneity."

Lauren, you get the prize for the most eloquent, accurate description of college I've heard. Ever.

Word of the Day

I haven't decided if this is a going to become a daily thing. It might, simply because I like words rather a lot. Like...I read the dictionary when I was a sophomore in high school. I think that's a little late in the game for the reading-the-dictionary-is-cute phase of life, but I can't change the facts.


Here's an example. My binder for sophomore English was a bright lime green. For some reason I still remember that. The school library had a massive dictionary, and I thought it was cool, so I made it my goal to find one fantastic word that I didn't know starting with each letter of the alphabet.


Aposiopesis. n. def.: a sudden breaking
off in the midst of a sentence, as if from
inability or unwillingness to proceed.

Braw. adj. def.: fine or fine looking; excellent.


You get the point.


In any case...


I found a cool word today:

Schiamachy. n. def.: the practice of fighting an imaginary opponent.


I like it. I may keep this up.

I hope this isn't vain...

BUT


I'm a little proud right now, and I wanted to say this somewhere.


I got a 4.0 GPA this semester.


Yay.