Grapefruit and other delights

I love grapefruit. It is one of my most favorite fruits in the whole entire world. But I can't eat it very much.
Recently, inspired in part by Emma, I have learned that I love fried eggs. Specifically, eggs sunny side up or over easy. The kind where the yolk is still runny so you can spread it over the white to get an even white-to-yolk ratio, and then put each bite on a bite of delicious bread, like the brioche toast I had in Montreal or the whole-wheat toast I had this morning.
The thing about eggs, though, is that you need to eat some fruit when you have eggs for breakfast. Or I do, at least. And what would be the perfect fruit to go with eggs over easy with delicious toast? Why, grapefruit, of course.
But I can't eat grapefruit. Why? Because of some silly medicine I take that keeps me a functional non-crazy human being. Grapefruit fucks with its levels in my bloodstream, so I can only eat it once a week.
Since eggs over easy with toast and grapefruit was going to be my new go-to breakfast, this hitch in the plan makes me sad. Oh, well.
That is all.

I lose

So, Emily came over to visit me tonight because it was the only chance we'd get to see each other before I go back to school tomorrow.
We're sitting in my room, chatting away, but my jeans are uncomfortable, so I change into p.j. pants. Then, I need a place to sit, so I sit on my bed. And cover myself with the covers.
Emily then tucked me in and let herself out of my house.
Emily is a wonderful friend.

Montreal!

I went to Montreal.
It was fun.
I took a funny picture of myself.
Also, we saw some pink trees in a train station, and Dewey walked among them:

And we ate a ton of good food and drank some delicious wine, and it was fun. The End.

Two Things

1. Always be careful not to drink too much when you are at dinner with your family. Due to my extremely low tolerance and my family getting wine with dinner every night, I've only narrowly avoided the awkward situation of being drunk in front of my father during this trip.
2. The best creme brulee in the WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD can be had at the Bonaparte Restaurant in Montreal. They have recently added a cute little hotel on top of the restaurant, and it's where we're staying. I love it. I will post pictures when I get home, if I have time before I leave for Philadelphia/Swarthmore. I keep saying that I'm going to Philadelphia, but that isn't strictly true. Oh, well.
I don't think this post is very funny. I'll edit it later. Sorry to any readers who get the unedited version.

And you thought procrastination was just for homework

Or I did, anyway. But no. I leave for Montreal in ten hours and four minutes, and I still have not done any of the laundry I brought home. This means I have no clean pants to wear. At all. And let's not even start on the underwear situation. It's kind of a problem.

Whoops

The bed looked too lonely.
I can totally revise this paper in three hours.

Maybe Tonight Will Be the Night

So, I know I keep telling you that I'm going to pull all-nighters. What my readers who do not go to Dartmouth College don't know is that usually, after I make such bold claims in my blog, I notice how lonely my bed looks, and I get in. But only to keep it company. It's not my fault that I happen to fall asleep while I'm there.
Tomorrow, however, I am going home on the five o'clock bus. I have plans to hang out with Manoli at eight-thirty-ish. This necessitates me being in Cambridge by then. So I will take the five o'clock bus. I just need to finish a paper and a journal (which includes a paper) by four o'clock tomorrow afternoon. So tonight, TONIGHT, I promise you, I will not sleep. I have Girl Scout cookies and gum and Jasmine tea and water. Those things will keep me up. They'd better.

She has a point

During a conversation about being the smart sibling versus the good sibling:
Me: "See, my little sister is better and smarter and prettier and cooler and . . ."
Steph: "But you're OLDER!"

Please Don't Mind the Puddle of Melted Heart

So I just got off the phone with my favorite child in the whole entire world, the one who I nannied all last year, the one who I love more than is healthy and talk about more than is necessary. Her new (as of late September, when I came back to Dartmouth) nanny just quit, so her mom's between a rock and a hard place, childcare-wise. Since I'm going to be on spring break next week, I offered to babysit for four days while her mom tries to hire someone new to take care of her. I'm totally attached to her, but she's mildly autistic, plus she's little, so I kind of assume that she only vaguely remembers me. Tonight, I was arranging things with her mom, who told her she was talking to me, and asked if she wanted to say hi. She did. As soon as she gets on the phone, she goes "Abbie? Are you going to pick me up at school?"
She didn't know that I was babysitting next week, 'cause her mom wasn't sure it was going to happen, so she didn't tell her.
Now does it make sense why a little part of me wants to quit school and go take care of her until she's fifteen? No? Oh, well.

Let the Caffeination Begin

So, the all-nighter didn't happen last night. Which means that it will happen tonight, for sure! Because life is JUST THAT GREAT.
And I need to do these damn papers. And I don't want to. But it's not even that I don't want to. It's that I don't really know how. Because I haven't written a paper in more than a year.
Oh, well. How will I learn if I don't just do it?
I don't think this post makes any sense. Which bodes quite well for my paper, I know.

My Paper

I have an excellent post in the works for later tonight. But first, I must write a rough draft of a paper.
So far: two paragraphs. If you assume two paragraphs/page, which I always do (a fact that often gets me into trouble), I only have eight left to go. Since I have eight paragraphs worth of material, I can totally do this. In three hours? Maybe. I just need to get some words on the page, and then I can revise revise revise.
Why isn't paper-writing as easy and fun as blogging?
EDIT: 9:52 p.m. THREE WHOLE PARAGRAPHS! Slow but steady. Now I must stand up.

This One's Not the Sorority

Date: 05 Mar 2007 01:16:57 -0500
From:
Subject: oxygen, television for women

hilarious: the Oxygen network is currently showing... Resident Evil.

Interesting choice of programming. I kind of would have expected it to be on Spike or TNT or something... instead of Oxygen.

The problem now is that if I want to watch it, I also have to watch 5 minutes of tampon, child-nutrition, and makeup commericals every 12 minutes. Oof. This is a difficult choice.

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Date: 05 Mar 2007 01:19:40 -0500
From:
Reply-To: yellowoystercult
Subject: Re: oxygen, television for women

difficult, yes, but zombies.

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Date: 05 Mar 2007 01:25:22 -0500
From:
Reply-To: Bonesaw
Subject: Re: oxygen, television for women

I know! But tampons.

Superheroes!

When you are in a sororitee at Dartmouth College, you have meetings every Wednesday night. Meetings are very serious business. You must take them very seriously. Appropriate dress is necessary:

Sometimes you dress all sexy in borrowed clothes:
Sometimes, you dress like a shoe:
Or just a Super Jew:

We look upon our sorority membership with the utmost gravity.

About a half an hour after meetings last night, Lisel (borrowed clothing superhero) and I (princess superhero) actually had an impromptu dance party. It was sort of ridiculous, and completely fun.