Une toute nouvelle expérience
So it's really hot in here. I am in my teeny little studio that I am calling home for the next ten months and it is probably 50 degrees outside but even though I have my windows open and the fan on, I am sitting here feeling really warm and I'm only half-clothed. Wait, did I mention I meant degrees farenheit? After all. I am already in the US, it is only right that I do as the Americans do (Think Rome). If you don't get that, you're probably american. But anyway, I guess I must be acclimatizing well huh. 50 degrees farenheit is about 10 degrees celsius.
I feel like dancing but it is too hot, Really it is. I was listening to Frank Sinatra having fun "Dancing cheek to cheek" probably with Nancy and I'm wondering when my prince will come and sweep me off my feet and dance cheek to cheek with me. I won't even mind the heat, honestly. I thought I had that. I think. But anyway, now Dean Martin is seducing me with all his little dreams of me. Sighs.... I'm getting a fever already with all that. And Ella Fitzgerald has to help join me with her "Fever". I love all these songs, I do, but sometimes they are so appropriate when they come on that they scare the hell out of me. And I don't scare easily.
I haven't written for ages and so much has passed! And I'm not sure I'm going to get much time to write once the internet and phone and cable comes along. I have a package that gets me my cable for half price for two months so I've decided, what the heck, try all the channels? I have this strange feeling I'm not going to head out much for a couple of months. So I guess it's just as well I just bought $140 worth of groceries from Albertson's. I'm part of their loyal customer program now. I am just glad at least I won't starve. What did I buy, really? Strange. The cart was full, I know. But I still have no clue what I bought. And it doesn't seem any less strange that Frank decides that I need to fly him to the moon. Or that there is strange noises coming from my kitchen cabinet. Shit. I hope I don't have to kill anything. I always feel vulnerable when I'm barefoot. I need at least to put on a top.
Ok. There's nothing in my cabinet. No, actually, that is a lie. There is heck of a lot of things in my cabinet. There is like some multi-grain rice thing that cost a bomb (and I'm not sure I know how to cook it?), boxes of mac and cheese, boxes of lasagne pasta, olive oil, sesame oil (that I managed to spill all over the place whilst trying to open the darn thing -- note to self: go out into the yard to open bottle caps next time; saves the clean up), vegetable oil, (I have no clue why I need so much oil actually...). There is also like salt and pepper, chili pepper, soy sauce (I found an asian supermarket 5 blocks from here - it's the only one around the city). Ooooh I love this song. There's nothing to dance with me, much less no one! Nat King Cole should stop telling me all this when he can't even dance with me. So what if he thinks of me every morning and dream of me every night? He says he's never lonely whenever I'm in sight. There's a slight problem with that though, He's not here. So I'm lonely. That's what's important. Actually... Not really. I'm ok.
Which brings me back to the darn cabinet. It's kinda sad. There isn't really anything inside. It's good cause I don't have to put on my top and I don't have to kill anything. It just made me realise I'm here with my food. That's it. Not even something to kill. Shit. Except maybe Marilyn Monroe, who keeps trying to seduce me with her darn boop boop bi doo nonsense. Which I kinda like actually. I'll love her alone if she wants. Wait, what Am I Saying? No wonder so many men fell for her... Heck, I'll fall for her. And I'm not even physically equipped for it.
I'm eating this really gross looking food. It tastes pretty good though, and it's seriously healthy. I think. Hang on, let me take a picture of it. Actually, it's almost gone now so the picture is what's left of it. I decided to get creative last night cause I bought a pint of fresh raspberries from the Saturday Farmer's Market (which is lovely, btw, so I hope I will have time to go again, take more pictures and describe it better) so I thought I would make some breakfast for today. I got some yoghurt I bought, added a bunch of raspberries, and cut up a banana into small chunks and mixed it all together. It is altogether very very healthy but the problem is that I didn't have time to eat it this morning. Heck, I didn't even have enough time to finish drinking the half glass of milk I poured out. And I still missed the freaking bus. I should've just stayed and had my darn breakfast.
Did I mention I have been missing the straight bus every single day? It is almost like a habit already. I will get there, stand at the intersection waiting to cross the road, and watch the bus drive away every freaking day. It's a good thing I have common sense (which isn't so common, as I probably already mentioned before) and half a brain and I just take other buses to the interchange (Eugene Station) and then change bus from there to get to college. You know, I never thought I would even be saying this! Me the cab girl. Taking the bus here. But it really isn't half as bad! The buses are on time, leave on time, are large and comfy with nice and friendly conductors. Only problem is usually that.... Er... I'm sorta not on time. Heh.
My contacts are drying out in this non-humid weather. And I really ought to get down to checking my darn health booklet myself to see if I actually have to take any vaccination here. I am seriously praying I don't have to cause I have been tortured enough by various nurses (bless your hearts, it's just I don't work well with needles no matter how nice you may be) that I am hoping this trip will be a happy, healthy, and needle-free atmosphere. The cold I can live with. The wetness that will come I will be able to live with. Needles from the christmas tree I will definitely be able to live with. Injection needles? NO thank you.
So I really ought to finish up the food and wash the bowl (yes you heard me right, I do wash up things other than myself). Then I gotta work out what my professor wants from me for tomorrow so I can write it out and pass it to him. All because I didn't bring a printer. But the cheapest ones here are really expensive so I will be really hip now and go retro. In fact, if you see my room, you'll think I'm real hip-pie. And if I still don't watch what I eat here with all these unhealthy gigantic proportions, I'm going to be real hip-po. Ok. I am seriously getting too corny. Probably cause Michael Buble keeps whispering in my ear for me to put my head on his shoulder. Oooooh... Do you think he really means it? Shoulder, anyone? :)
I feel like dancing but it is too hot, Really it is. I was listening to Frank Sinatra having fun "Dancing cheek to cheek" probably with Nancy and I'm wondering when my prince will come and sweep me off my feet and dance cheek to cheek with me. I won't even mind the heat, honestly. I thought I had that. I think. But anyway, now Dean Martin is seducing me with all his little dreams of me. Sighs.... I'm getting a fever already with all that. And Ella Fitzgerald has to help join me with her "Fever". I love all these songs, I do, but sometimes they are so appropriate when they come on that they scare the hell out of me. And I don't scare easily.
I haven't written for ages and so much has passed! And I'm not sure I'm going to get much time to write once the internet and phone and cable comes along. I have a package that gets me my cable for half price for two months so I've decided, what the heck, try all the channels? I have this strange feeling I'm not going to head out much for a couple of months. So I guess it's just as well I just bought $140 worth of groceries from Albertson's. I'm part of their loyal customer program now. I am just glad at least I won't starve. What did I buy, really? Strange. The cart was full, I know. But I still have no clue what I bought. And it doesn't seem any less strange that Frank decides that I need to fly him to the moon. Or that there is strange noises coming from my kitchen cabinet. Shit. I hope I don't have to kill anything. I always feel vulnerable when I'm barefoot. I need at least to put on a top.
Ok. There's nothing in my cabinet. No, actually, that is a lie. There is heck of a lot of things in my cabinet. There is like some multi-grain rice thing that cost a bomb (and I'm not sure I know how to cook it?), boxes of mac and cheese, boxes of lasagne pasta, olive oil, sesame oil (that I managed to spill all over the place whilst trying to open the darn thing -- note to self: go out into the yard to open bottle caps next time; saves the clean up), vegetable oil, (I have no clue why I need so much oil actually...). There is also like salt and pepper, chili pepper, soy sauce (I found an asian supermarket 5 blocks from here - it's the only one around the city). Ooooh I love this song. There's nothing to dance with me, much less no one! Nat King Cole should stop telling me all this when he can't even dance with me. So what if he thinks of me every morning and dream of me every night? He says he's never lonely whenever I'm in sight. There's a slight problem with that though, He's not here. So I'm lonely. That's what's important. Actually... Not really. I'm ok.
Which brings me back to the darn cabinet. It's kinda sad. There isn't really anything inside. It's good cause I don't have to put on my top and I don't have to kill anything. It just made me realise I'm here with my food. That's it. Not even something to kill. Shit. Except maybe Marilyn Monroe, who keeps trying to seduce me with her darn boop boop bi doo nonsense. Which I kinda like actually. I'll love her alone if she wants. Wait, what Am I Saying? No wonder so many men fell for her... Heck, I'll fall for her. And I'm not even physically equipped for it.
I'm eating this really gross looking food. It tastes pretty good though, and it's seriously healthy. I think. Hang on, let me take a picture of it. Actually, it's almost gone now so the picture is what's left of it. I decided to get creative last night cause I bought a pint of fresh raspberries from the Saturday Farmer's Market (which is lovely, btw, so I hope I will have time to go again, take more pictures and describe it better) so I thought I would make some breakfast for today. I got some yoghurt I bought, added a bunch of raspberries, and cut up a banana into small chunks and mixed it all together. It is altogether very very healthy but the problem is that I didn't have time to eat it this morning. Heck, I didn't even have enough time to finish drinking the half glass of milk I poured out. And I still missed the freaking bus. I should've just stayed and had my darn breakfast.
Did I mention I have been missing the straight bus every single day? It is almost like a habit already. I will get there, stand at the intersection waiting to cross the road, and watch the bus drive away every freaking day. It's a good thing I have common sense (which isn't so common, as I probably already mentioned before) and half a brain and I just take other buses to the interchange (Eugene Station) and then change bus from there to get to college. You know, I never thought I would even be saying this! Me the cab girl. Taking the bus here. But it really isn't half as bad! The buses are on time, leave on time, are large and comfy with nice and friendly conductors. Only problem is usually that.... Er... I'm sorta not on time. Heh.
My contacts are drying out in this non-humid weather. And I really ought to get down to checking my darn health booklet myself to see if I actually have to take any vaccination here. I am seriously praying I don't have to cause I have been tortured enough by various nurses (bless your hearts, it's just I don't work well with needles no matter how nice you may be) that I am hoping this trip will be a happy, healthy, and needle-free atmosphere. The cold I can live with. The wetness that will come I will be able to live with. Needles from the christmas tree I will definitely be able to live with. Injection needles? NO thank you.
So I really ought to finish up the food and wash the bowl (yes you heard me right, I do wash up things other than myself). Then I gotta work out what my professor wants from me for tomorrow so I can write it out and pass it to him. All because I didn't bring a printer. But the cheapest ones here are really expensive so I will be really hip now and go retro. In fact, if you see my room, you'll think I'm real hip-pie. And if I still don't watch what I eat here with all these unhealthy gigantic proportions, I'm going to be real hip-po. Ok. I am seriously getting too corny. Probably cause Michael Buble keeps whispering in my ear for me to put my head on his shoulder. Oooooh... Do you think he really means it? Shoulder, anyone? :)
posted by Enigma @ 10:10 PM
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