Wednesday, June 02, 2004

dishpan hands

My feet hurt. Cooking and washing dishes suck. Of course, it would probably help if I didn't cook my supper at 8:30 at night. But in an attempt to not eat at fast food restaurants, I have begun adopting culinary skills. Tonight it was mashed potatoes and chicken quesadillas. Okay, so I know that doesn't go together, but I was bent on making the potatoes, and I had the stuff to make the quesadillas, so there. It was good. I'm not sure, but I think there might be an okay cook somewhere inside of me. Anyway, I had a lot of fun buying pots and pans at WalMart. Who knows what tomorrow holds in the kitchen. I might make tater cakes with my left over potatoes. Hmm... Oh, yeah, I also threw together some fruit salad. Sorry about boring you with my adventures with food (sounds kinky), but I'm excited. I've never really cooked. Ever. It wouldn't have been hard to guess if you had've seen my peeling and cutting my potatoes. I gotta work on that.

The job endeavor is looking shaky. The lady called today about Angels Attic, and she said I needed to go to Career Services and see if I'm eligible for KHEAA. Um, that doesn't sound good because if that's the same thing as work-study, I'm almost 100% that I'm ineligible. But I went by and filled out the form anyway and then complimented the ladies who work there because they are the nicest office people on campus I've dealt with. Too bad that won't help my chances of being KHEAA approved. Shucks.

Class was good today. Yesterday, we got out like an hour early. Today, we stayed almost fifteen minutes late. My professor has no clue what time class is supposed to be over, so 12:20 passed and we kept discussing William Blake's Songs of Innocence and of Experience. But that's cool because I like the class, and the summer setting is more laid back. We don't have to rush out to get to another class. But you'd think after being in class for over two hours, we'd be fighting to get out. But I think our professor intimidates us all, so we stayed quiet. He calls on you and expects you to give a logical, meaningful answer and harasses you until you or someone else he's called on does. Today, I answered a question as soon as I found one I knew so that he wouldn't call on me with a question I had no clue about. Thank God I know that unrhymed lines of iambic pentameter is blank verse...

The scenes of summer school are different than the rest of the year. There aren't many people around, but I've discovered that the campus transforms into non-trad heaven in the summer. I've found two non-trad hang-outs. The benches at the corner of the fine arts annex and in front of the Curris Center. I don't know if they're handing out free roller-bags in the Curris Center or what, but they gather there like cows to a watering hole. Yeah, so there's that info just in case you are ever in a dire need to locate a large quantity of non-traditional students.

Well, I've got poems out the wazoo to read, so I better get on that. I'll probably be up a little late 'cause I took a gigantic nap this afternoon. It's good to be back on a good sleep schedule.

No comments: