I went to Bucer's after Math today for an iced Irish Creme latte to waken my sleepy eyes while doing history reading. It was lovely. Bucer's was very quiet for the most part, and the few people that stopped by to chat were welcome breaks.
Sophomore year is much more time intensive than freshman year was. Study groups are being set up, and I'm hoping our Math midterm will go well. Yes, first term is already almost half over. *faints* Amazing.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
too much good food
The one thing I hate about Moscow is that there is always way too much insanely good food. I currently have what my wonderful ex-roommate Lindsey called a "food injury."
Ouch.
Ouch.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
last week of work
If I kill someone tonight, it’s not my fault. I haven’t yet decided on a double homicide or the simpler, less messy route of suicide.
“You don’t need iced tea, you already have soy milk,” Margaret tells her husband in a tone used to being obeyed, her big floppy lips pursed in irritation. To call them horsy lips would have been an insult to the equine species.
“Do I have to move to another table to be waited on?” he responds imperialistically. I paste on a large smile and serve of the second beverage. The migraine pounding between my ears is hardly distracting as I juggle taking orders, serving drinks and bussing dirty dishes.
Payton blames the heat; the 100 degree sun pouring through the windows seems to back her up.
Working my way down the row of tables, hurrying back and forth with my tray loaded with food. Tonight we are having a lovely eggplant stack with a small salad and garlic bread. Bursts of disgusted laughter. “What are the alternates?” Back in the kitchen: a half order, a BBQ chicken and a slice of wheat bread with peanut butter and jam. No wait, I’m forgetting something. I lean tiredly against my tray and search my brain. Is eating all anyone ever does? Chad waits with a grin on his scruffy blond face. “A baked potato,” I burst out.
“That’s it?”
I nod, take the potato and head back to the table.
Thank goodness for Chet and Lou. While I clear their dishes, Lou cheerfully tells me how she prepared eggplant when she had her own kitchen. “I prefer it fried, but I like it most any way. My daughter plants it every summer so we get a lot of it.”
Bringing in the dirty dishes, balancing plate on top of plate, shoving the food to one side, silverware to another, unload in the kitchen. The resounding crash of dishes cascading to the floor is strangely satisfying, despite the Oh my gosh, oh my word, oh blast that pours forcefully from my startled mouth. I didn’t even see it happening, but there is now a pile of shattered dishes at my feet. Thank goodness none of the managers were around.
“I don’t feel so terrible now,” Georgia confides as we clean up the shards of plate. Guess I’m not the only smasher of dishes on the premises.
“You want to do desserts while I bus?” Taylor asks. Rather.
What do you have? I can’t hear you. Banana pudding? Goodness, if there is banana, you can’t taste it – there’s only custard. What else? I can’t hear you. Oh I guess I’ll take the banana cake. I have to have something to satisfy my hunger.
I serve the rest of the table, after verifying No Cookies. No wait. Change of mind. I don’t even bother trying to smile while placing the plate of cookies by her banana cake.
“Gosh, she’s so rude,” Payton looks haggard, and we exchange looks of deep self-pity. “Can you work supper for me tomorrow?” she pleads. “I have to baby sit my nephew.”
Sunday evening? Oh man. There goes my sleep. And my two weeks notice didn’t get communicated to Susan. How on earth can I work next weekend when I’m in Idaho? The joys of having five bosses. And no one seems to be available to fill in.
“Ok, we get to fight over who gets to ask Christi to fill in for next Sunday,” I ponder the schedule.
“Dibs on Christi – you try McKay. No, wait, she’s Mormon and can’t work Sunday.”
“I’ll try Kalpana. Which would make her work seven days in a row.” My headache threatens to pound harder. I’ll figure something out. Or leave it for Monica or Tom to figure out. It’s not my fault that this mix-up happened.
Finally it is time to head home. Glancing at the gas gauge, I slide behind the wheel of my car. The needle is resting on E.
“You don’t need iced tea, you already have soy milk,” Margaret tells her husband in a tone used to being obeyed, her big floppy lips pursed in irritation. To call them horsy lips would have been an insult to the equine species.
“Do I have to move to another table to be waited on?” he responds imperialistically. I paste on a large smile and serve of the second beverage. The migraine pounding between my ears is hardly distracting as I juggle taking orders, serving drinks and bussing dirty dishes.
Payton blames the heat; the 100 degree sun pouring through the windows seems to back her up.
Working my way down the row of tables, hurrying back and forth with my tray loaded with food. Tonight we are having a lovely eggplant stack with a small salad and garlic bread. Bursts of disgusted laughter. “What are the alternates?” Back in the kitchen: a half order, a BBQ chicken and a slice of wheat bread with peanut butter and jam. No wait, I’m forgetting something. I lean tiredly against my tray and search my brain. Is eating all anyone ever does? Chad waits with a grin on his scruffy blond face. “A baked potato,” I burst out.
“That’s it?”
I nod, take the potato and head back to the table.
Thank goodness for Chet and Lou. While I clear their dishes, Lou cheerfully tells me how she prepared eggplant when she had her own kitchen. “I prefer it fried, but I like it most any way. My daughter plants it every summer so we get a lot of it.”
Bringing in the dirty dishes, balancing plate on top of plate, shoving the food to one side, silverware to another, unload in the kitchen. The resounding crash of dishes cascading to the floor is strangely satisfying, despite the Oh my gosh, oh my word, oh blast that pours forcefully from my startled mouth. I didn’t even see it happening, but there is now a pile of shattered dishes at my feet. Thank goodness none of the managers were around.
“I don’t feel so terrible now,” Georgia confides as we clean up the shards of plate. Guess I’m not the only smasher of dishes on the premises.
“You want to do desserts while I bus?” Taylor asks. Rather.
What do you have? I can’t hear you. Banana pudding? Goodness, if there is banana, you can’t taste it – there’s only custard. What else? I can’t hear you. Oh I guess I’ll take the banana cake. I have to have something to satisfy my hunger.
I serve the rest of the table, after verifying No Cookies. No wait. Change of mind. I don’t even bother trying to smile while placing the plate of cookies by her banana cake.
“Gosh, she’s so rude,” Payton looks haggard, and we exchange looks of deep self-pity. “Can you work supper for me tomorrow?” she pleads. “I have to baby sit my nephew.”
Sunday evening? Oh man. There goes my sleep. And my two weeks notice didn’t get communicated to Susan. How on earth can I work next weekend when I’m in Idaho? The joys of having five bosses. And no one seems to be available to fill in.
“Ok, we get to fight over who gets to ask Christi to fill in for next Sunday,” I ponder the schedule.
“Dibs on Christi – you try McKay. No, wait, she’s Mormon and can’t work Sunday.”
“I’ll try Kalpana. Which would make her work seven days in a row.” My headache threatens to pound harder. I’ll figure something out. Or leave it for Monica or Tom to figure out. It’s not my fault that this mix-up happened.
Finally it is time to head home. Glancing at the gas gauge, I slide behind the wheel of my car. The needle is resting on E.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
never buy cheap notebook paper
Because it will die on day five of class. 'Tis a tragic thing.
Despite a dead computer (yay for little brothers who send working parts!) and not so great notebook paper, life is going well. I'm currently at Kristina's apartment getting ready to write up a theology presentation. It's like old times, curled up in the white armchair with a cat trying to get my attention in any way possible.
New St. Andrews is a jaw dropping amazing place to be, 1:30 am bedtimes aside. (and this is before any major assignments. Ouch)
Despite a dead computer (yay for little brothers who send working parts!) and not so great notebook paper, life is going well. I'm currently at Kristina's apartment getting ready to write up a theology presentation. It's like old times, curled up in the white armchair with a cat trying to get my attention in any way possible.
New St. Andrews is a jaw dropping amazing place to be, 1:30 am bedtimes aside. (and this is before any major assignments. Ouch)
Sunday, August 19, 2007
summer? what summer?
School has started. Started with a vengeance.
*dies*
But really, the things we are working on so far has been quite interesting. The trick is to convince my brain to just sit down and focus.
Our last roommate has arrived, and we are now a full house. And my room is a disaster area.
It's raining outside. Next to saddle leather and coffee, the smell of the air after rain is a favorite.
*dies*
But really, the things we are working on so far has been quite interesting. The trick is to convince my brain to just sit down and focus.
Our last roommate has arrived, and we are now a full house. And my room is a disaster area.
It's raining outside. Next to saddle leather and coffee, the smell of the air after rain is a favorite.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
sisters
Mom had some photos left on her camera, Rachel was home and so we took some sweet pictures. This was by far my favorite. I think it was taken a week or two before coming back to Moscow.Being back in Moscow has been absolutely amazing. Trinity Fest was, as always, great, this time being even better than normal due to getting to hear Dr. Field (who I highly admire), saying hello to friends and classmates who I haven't seen all summer, not to mention making some sweet new friends.
The new freshman class has been arriving in droves and so far I really like the ones I have met. My gut feeling that this year is going to be like none other is already coming to pass. My roommate, an incoming freshman named Kate Ligon, arrived yesterday, she seems really nice. Third roommate will arrive next week, and Stacey and I are already giving Matt a hard time about being surrounded by girls. *laugh*
This year is going to be - wow. *blink*
Friday, August 10, 2007
sweetness prevails
I just bought the vast majority of the books for first term and am pretty much drooling (which pretty much happens whenever I find myself in the company of a stack of new books).
Our new Latin teacher, Mr. Griffeth, is amazingly good at what he does. Even though it's mostly review right now, I find the Latin clicking much faster when taught via immersion. The only problem being that is how I learned Spanish so I am now speaking Spatin. (Spanish/Latin).
Our new Latin teacher, Mr. Griffeth, is amazingly good at what he does. Even though it's mostly review right now, I find the Latin clicking much faster when taught via immersion. The only problem being that is how I learned Spanish so I am now speaking Spatin. (Spanish/Latin).
Friday, August 3, 2007
ye-ouch
I have decided that I intensely dislike computers. I just spent the vast majority of my evening figuring out my iPod and iTunes with some new study music for this fall. I think I'm pretty much set - I have everything from soothing to let's-get-moving and some mystery music that I'm not sure what it is for certain. But still, I could have been reading during the last few hours of getting to read what I want. Go figure.
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