music: "Leaving on a Jet Plane," Fiona Apple
Well.. I have to leave for class in twenty minutes, I'm not dressed, nor is my hair blow dried. So the obvious choice is to update.
I was just reflecting on what kind of an image I have presented to my fellow dormmates in the past four weeks.
Case in point:
My first week here I sliced my finger open cutting a piece of bread. I bled for a really long time, including over the sandwhich, which turned red and soggy. I ate it anyway for lack of other food options.
Then I got a microwave. The first day I had it, I discovered that you can't cook toaster strudels in the microwave on High. They explode.
Last weekend I had a stomachache and thought I'd heat up a washcloth to put on it and curl up in bed. I stuck it in the microwave and turned around to check my email. I start smelling smoke. The washcloth had burned a hole all the way through itself and was smoking as if it were about to catch fire. The entire dorm smelled like smoke for two days. I STILL have not heard the end of that one. Luckily, I opened my window and door before the smoke detector in my room went off and I would have had to explain the situation to the firefighters, as well.
Making dinner with Liz the other night, I was straining the pasta using a glass lid against the pot. I let the lid slip and PLOP -- out came almost ALL of the pasta into the filthy sink that the whole dorm uses but doesn't clean. We rinsed the pasta off and ate it anyway.
Then we stole popcorn from the Upward Bound girls. They don't know it yet.