What Was It That They Say About Hindsight?

It was 37 degrees outside yesterday, and I went to class without a jacket. That's the first time it's been above freezing since January 17th. Good lord. I thought it was positively tropical; what's coming to this state?

When I left my apartment yesterday morning, I was dressed in 'casual interview' mode, with jeans and my blazer, and of course the red shoes. The non-interview to which I arrived punctually, nervous as all hell, was with one Matt Tossman, HC '02 and Teach for Ameria corps member. Now Tossman and I had an *interesting* [hi, euphemism of the century] relationship my freshman year, which degenerated over the summer and ended up hurting/irritating/embarassing all involved parties in the 2001-02 school year. I distinctly remember the last words I'd spoken to him, nearly two and a half years ago at Haverfest.

keep in mind, I wasn't, shall we say, *sober* at this point...
Thea: I'm not supposed to talk to you tonight.
MT: really?
Thea: Yes. My roommate told me not to talk to you. By the way, congrats with organizing Haverfest and all. I'm really impressed.
MT:uuuh, thanks?
Thea: no problem. You know, if you'd just have told me you didn't like me a year ago, things would have been so much easier for everyone.
MT:[pause, awkwardness] I'm sorry.
Thea: Don't apologize, that's all you ever do.
MT: I'm sorry.
Thea: Yeah, so I just wanted to say that. And have a nice life, because I'm never going to see you again. Bye! [with a smile and a turn on her heel, she walks away into the crowd...]

And I quote: "I'm never going to see you again." At the time, it was beautiful: liberating, empowering, relatively harmless and free of bitterness. Exactly the kind of closure that I thought I needed on the whole affair, and I thought no more of him except in particularly low moments when I'd go back and read my journal from Freshman year, or something like that.

Then, last Tuesday I got an email in my inbox saying "(Please Reply) Invite to Coffee With Matt Tossman." I nearly dropped my jaw. Apparently, Teach for America was stalking/recruiting me (thanks to another Haver-boy), and seems to think that I'd make a good candidate for the corps. It actually looks really interesting, with a new bilingual program in Miami that has dual-language classrooms. I'd be pysched about that. So the irony of the situation is that I really did have a ton of questions for Tossman, and I did want to talk to him about TFA, if nothing else. I set up my meeting with a good deal of trepidation, and made sure I looked presentable when I walked into the INSC lounge at 10:45.

The meeting went well, and a lot of my queries were answered. TFA looks really appealing, if I can get in, and we had a nice conversation about life, the past two years, and Haverford. He's still got those bright blue eyes, and I've still got that long blonde hair, but I didn't want to hit him or yell at him, so that's good. He's grown up, I've mellowed, and I think that now we could actually be friends. In a move of dubious prudence, I invited him out for a drink via email, but never heard back [see: every other attempt at social interaction with MT]. I think it's better this way, ending on a good note.

Next time, I will remember Rachael's sage advice, and restrain myself from potentially harmful inflammatory comments towards people who may or may not deserve them, no matter how much I feel like I need "resolution" to the conflict. You know what they say about hindsight.

Raging Egotism

In light of recent events in my life, it has come to my attention that the world does not, indeed, revolve around me. As of late, I seem to have forgotten that while people may be stressed and short, non-responsive to emails and pleas to go out and have fun, the rest of Haverford's campus might not be quite so nonchalant with regards to their senior year as I have been.

I haven't even looked at either thesis since December, and am about to break my academic fast with an overview and intense editing session this afternoon, which honestly frightens me. I was so relieved to have them off and turned in, out of my hands for a while, that now when it's time to get my hands dirty again, it is so hard to get started. Especially since the receptions of my mentors to said documents were not, shall we say, excessively enthusiastic. Sigh, oh well. In the meantime there's not much that I can do but play some loud music and crank up the bass until the plate on my desk rattles with the same rumbling irritation that I feel.

The process of melting and re-freezing has turned the once beautiful hood and front grill of the van into a snotty mess of icicles. It looks like the front headlights are nostrils with this nasty sinus infection or something, it's really sad.

That said, my faithful little chariot has been more than helpful these first two weeks at school (god, has it already been two weeks?), and I would not have even had the opportunities to get groceries for the steamy hearty dinner that I made last night if it weren't for me four wheeled insulated heat bubble of transport. Creamy leek and potato soup decadently dressed with (gasp) real bacon, and white cheddar risotto were just what I needed after 20+ minutes digging the car out of its parking space on Ardmore Ave. That, plus the Renoir film on the 'big' screen in Chase, made Thursday night an atypically good one. As I walked home from a slight detour up to the North Dorms, circa 12:30 am, I was scandalized to see people coming out of the Science Library. Who on earth was doing work on at Thursday? I'm certainly not doing work tonight.

Then I realized that I used to do work every Thursday night, and a few Fridays as well. What on earth has happened to my work ethic? Am I really that burnt out of writing and such, or is it just that I haven't gotten back into the swing of things yet? I hope, for my theses' sake, that it's the latter. Otherwise, I just might be fucked, even if I am enjoying life =). In the meantime, I'll continue to put off reading until the morning of class, watch LOTR dvd's and worry more about getting in a workout and homecooked meal into every day instead of how many pages I've got left to write, and whether or not my departments will let me write an Honors thesis. Taking bets as to how long this casually disinterested attitude will hold up, if anyone's interested.

Hot & Spicy

Has been the culinary theme as of late, in a debatably successful attempt to counterract the neither hot nor spicy weather that surrounds the mid-Atlantic region. I'm really not okay with the whole idea of temperatures in the teens. Teens should be awkward, vaguely familiar looking adolescents generally to be avoided, especially in social settings and malls, most definitely not weather reports.

Saturday was a night of Thai and salsa, although the salsa was musical, not gastronomic. Spicy fumes of lemongrass and coconut soup mixed with whifs of Leroy's signature curry mix, bottled especially for the entire Williamson clan this Christmas, as Jen, Marni and I sang along to bad spanish pop and real guajiro rhythms. It was a good night. Any night that ends with CD burning and Irish coffee with brownies (to complete the cultural heterogeny) can't by definition be bad.

Sunday was spicy mac'-n-cheese made in a hurry as I watched the first half of Two Towers twice, once through, and then again with commentary. I'm such a nerd. I tried to convince myself that the spicyness along with several cups of tea would make me feel warm, but it turned out that in my poorly insulated corner room, only a wool hat and slippers could raise my core temperature to something resembling normal...while the kitchen still swelters and gushes hot air like a sauna. Nobody really understands who designed the climate control systems in this building.

And today, today is Indian food, fantastically spicy paneer and mango lassis (which, while neither hot nor spicy, are still quite yummy), care of everyone's newest favorite "public intellectual," and candidate for friend's boyfriend. Hey, if he wants to buy dinner so I'll tell her nice things about him, I'm *so* okay with that. It also helps that he's just a nice guy. And speaking of nice guys...[sigh]. I like mine.

A lot.

Your Friendly Dose of Non Sequiters

1. today is 1-23-04. i think that's cool.

2. Have received package with new music and LOTR II dvd, which pleases me immensely.

3. it is 17 degrees outside, without windchill. I walked to Stokes and I thought my ears would fall off.

4. the rating warning on Two Towers says PG 13: EPIC BATTLE SEQUENCES AND SOME SCARY IMAGES. are you kidding? "some scary images?"

5. need to remember to take hat/hood with me when I leave the building.

6. I have laundry that needs to be taken out of the dryer, done with only Arkansas quarters (not a prerequisite for laundry).

7. I have neither looked nor thought substantively about either thesis, and have completed an entire week of class. Score.

8. need to sew multiple buttons on multiple garments, and plan on doing so right now.

Thank you, and you may now return to your regularly scheduled lives.

Damn, it's over.

Another winter break comes to a close, now that I'm back in the HCA apartment. On the roommate's suggestion, I took a few hours to rearrange my room. Arms are most definitely not used to heavy lifting/pushing. This winter break saw several unexpected windfalls (is that redundant? I think windfalls are inherently surprising), most conspicuously two things: the flaming van is now parked under several inches of snow on hannum drive. Yes, I know that I'm probably going to get ticketed but dammit, it's icy. In short, I'm mobile in Haverford now. Manayunk, here we come. Secondly, as a corrolary to my driving expedition, the parents sponsored a mobile phone for my very own personal use. I am very excited and have been calling my nearest and dearest to experiment with said technological advance. Good times.

Speaking of good times...my last week at home that was supposed to be "productive," "boring" and "uneventful" all of a sudden turned into a great deal of fun, beginning on Sunday when I found out that the compañera de cuarto was trekking from New Hampshire to Charleston and was looking for lodging. So Teal made it South on Monday afternoon, whilst I was stripping paint off of the front of the van in the positively balmy 67 degree weather. How great is that?!?! We took a leisurely drive to 72nd street and went for a walk on the beach in the middle of January. After a little catching up over my corked pinot grigio, we headed downtown (all prettied up, claro) to Havana for mojitos before a fantastic sushi dinner on Granby Street. By 9:30 pm, us party girls were pooped, and collapsed immediately in bed.

Without a stop in the action, the very next day the great Amanda Eve returned to the beach, so of course girly martinis down at Crackers were in order. Girl talk over chocolate mint cocktails, and being complimented by the quasi-punk waiter (he liked my purse, and Mandi's rather...uh, expressive cartoon shirt) just about made my day. Fun continues on Wednesday with more girlie activities including but not limited to: the new Mandy Moore movie, lattes, cooking, shopping and the O.C.

Starting to feel that back to school vibe kick in, it was decided upon that Friday night was to be our night on the town complete with bubblicious-colored 4 inch stilettos (on Mandi's feet, not mine). Plans were made, goals set, and faces painted. Off to Granby Street, ladies! Dancing was done, drinks were purchased on our behalf =), and the midnight oil was burned...so much so that our evening didn't end until 4:30 in the Warren kitchen making egg and english muffin sandwiches. Pulled in to the driveway at 5:15, and fell asleep in my makeup with the cat on my arm and a slight grin on my face. Way to go for sobering (literally) political debates with Texans; can open, worms everywhere.

So it's snowing here now, and after my 6 hour drive I'm about tuckered out. I think it's time for sleepytime.

Know When To Surrender To The Laws of Physics

One of Newton's slightly less popular laws, though of infinite utility in the kitchen, is that a bottle of wine cannot be opened without a wine-opener. I gave myself a semi-black eye battling with a now thoroughly cork-infested pinot grigio this evening attempting unsuccessfully to extract said piece of organic material from the small glass neck of the container. A corkscrew with no leverage other than my own puny arms' pulling power is not exactly effective. By screwing the metal helix in one too many times, I extracted a dusty core of cork, and the handle of the corkscrew went right up under my glasses into my right side baby blue.

Good call, Thea, well done. By then, the damage had been done, so I tried to pry the damn thing out with the kitchen shears, and finally needle nosed pliers. No luck, but many small bits of cork now litter the counter. "Fuck it!" I said, stooping to an alltime low and popping the cork through with a chopstick, forgetting Socrates' (If it really was him) observations about liquid displacement, and spurting white wine all over my sweater. Well done, yet again. I have now lost a glass to corkiness, and there are dusty motes of dubious origen floating around in my "clean" glass, but dammit, it's been a long week, and I wanted a nice chilled white to go with my sushi dinner, all gastronomically planned out.

Dinner was good, the new Alias even better, and two glasses of wine later, the earlier fiasco didn't seem so important. I embarked on a cookie project during commercial breaks, thinking that multitasking was a great idea after being freezing cold all day, warming up with a little potent potable, and excitedly wondering what was happening to Sydney Bristow. Such a great idea indeed that I transposed the numerical coefficient of 'eggs' and 'flour,' not figuring it out until I'd baked the first batch. I think maybe I'd just get some rest and get ready for my surprise guest tomorrow.

The house seems big

when you're alone in it. I thought that I would be all psyched to be home by myself with the cat for a few days before Dad comes back and all, but an empty silent house (even our small one) is strange.

1. it is still absolutely freezing in the kitchen/dining area, which is sad, because that's where I like to hang out.

2. television is weird. After 8+ days without tv, sitting in front of the tube kind of weirded me out. Hmm, genius, could that be partially a product of your programming choices? Note to self: don't watch MTV shows about: teen pregnancy, eating disorders, and/or bad early 90's movies with Tom Cruise, bad early 00's movies with Jennifer Lopez.

3. Va Beach radio stations blow. And I mean b-l-o-w, blow. We used to have such a good indie/alternative radio station, and passable country. Fuck Clear Channel, those bastards. Now, the usually pleasurable act of driving about town to nowhere in particular becomes painful with the one busted speaker, semi-functional tape player, and (duh) no CD player.

4. it is still cold. Too cold to work on the car? We'll see. NOT too cold for shopping...I think I might have to get out of the house for a bit. Groceries, shoes, coffee. Sounds like a plan.