mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ebenezer ain't got nuttin' on me. A tip for the guys out there: If you want to make a simple meal that's dead tasty and is sure to impress the ladies, learn how to make risotto. I'll add a recipe to my recipe collection soon. But if you are impatient, just go to The Food Network's website and do a search for risotto. For my after-school dinner, I made a shitaki-oyster mushroom and pea risotto with hints of whisky and white wine. It took me all of 30 minutes to make it. Had I been a girl, I would have totally thanked myself with gratuitous amounts of sex. But alas. It's just me. I think I am going to totally love my newest class. It's called "Seminar in Advanced Writing." Basically, it is a creative writing class for upperclassmen. We had our first little exercise today where we drew diagrams of our childhood homes and wrote descriptions of meaningful rooms. I wrote about how, even though I grew up with a sister, I hardly ever played with her -- pretty much never -- and I grew up as if I were an only child. Everyone who has had me in previous classes mentioned they thought I was an only child. I don't really know if that was an insult or not because it is common to call only children "spoiled brats." The more I think of this, the more suspcious I am of what my classmates meant... I also wrote about the very first time I got drunk in my childhood home. I was relatively older -- around 17 or so -- and it was a time I was first experiencing the depression that I would suffer from for over five years. At this time, I was just trying to find anything to dull the pain. That dullness came from an entire bottle of White Zinfandel and a half a pack of Velveeta cheese. I wasn't as much as a food connoisseur back in the day as I am now, but all I knew was that you must eat cheese with wine. Blegh. I hardly ever touch Velveeta "cheese" anymore. El yucko. I tell ya what... I was sick for two days after that little fiasco. I've never tasted a Zinfandel since then that I've liked. Have you noticed that they are starting to play the Christmas commercials on TV once again? At my station, we already have two, two-minute commercials in circulation. The one I especially hate is the one that starts out with Bing Crosby's "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas." It has home movies from the 1950s of kids waking up to Santa's bounty. I guess I should mention once again that I am not at all a fan of Christmas. It is my least favorite of all holidays. It comes from the same area of the brain of why I dislike going to concerts. If you will remember, I don't like concerts because you are supposed to get up and dance, and you are supposed to sing along and laugh and show outward expressions of having a grand ol' time. Christmas is just one world-wide concert. You are supposed to be "merry and bright" and you have to buy things for people. Christmas, to me, is a 2-month obligation to being happy and giddy. I'm happy and giddy on my own for the rest of the entire year. I buy things for people for "just because" reasons. I do nice things for people maybe because it is rainy out and someone looks blue. What really gets on my every last nerve are the commercials every business puts out during Christmas. There are two types:
I hate the second one the most. Maybe I notice it more because I work at a TV station (I was a radio DJ for over four years, and radio ads are ten times worse), but every time this type of commercial plays, I want to throw a brick at the TV and yell, "May you bite my ass." Ba humbug. Let the season's spirit begin. 11:11 p.m. - Mon., Oct. 28, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||