me: I’ve never met his dog
she’s an atomic bomb
A: his dog
me: I’m trying to think of what kind of dog would fit the descriptor “atomic bomb”
A: she’s just chock full of energy
hardly ever stops moving
me: and likely to mutate your DNA and cause leukemia??
me: I would still pet her
The holidays possibly bring out the worst in me. That being my bratty, picky, OCD baker self.
- Invest in a stand mixer
- Buy chocolate chips whenever they’re on sale at Safeway*
- Not leave raw meat sitting around in uncovered bowls. This is a thing at my house, apparently.
- Bake no-knead bread and not worry about taking up space in the fridge
- Keep a constant supply of pesto
- Be able to make oatmeal raisin cookies without worrying that my dad ran out of his usual organic oatmeal and subsequently used up all the oats that I bought specifically for baking cookies because they’re cheaper and no one cares whether or not they’re organic
- On a related note, buy non-organic oatmeal
- Attempt to make a batch of pain au chocolat
- Have my own container of ground cinnamon instead of the clumpy cinnamon in the pantry at home that my parents insist on using up before buying new cinnamon
- Have a dedicated shelf for my laptop and a set of speakers for browsing recipes and blasting music while I cook
*Conversation in the store yesterday
Mom: “Why do you need to buy more chocolate chips?”
Me: “They’re on sale! I want to stock up!”
Mom: “You never bake with them.”
Me: “Yes I do! I bake chocolate chip cookies for my friends!”
Mom: “You never bake things for us with them!”
Another conversation with Seth:
give me a story seed
Seth: bison stampede
i can work with that
~~~~ 7 minutes later ~~~~
me: how loose of an interpretation of “bison” can i do
me: can they be some made up hairy lumbering animal being chased by dragons?
me: i feel like dragons would make bison stampede
if you just wanted an excuse to write about dragons
you could have asked
me: SOMEHOW MY HEAD JUMPED THERE
The world can always use more dragons.
And made up hairy lumbering animals.
A conversation between me and Seth:
why haven’t we co-written a hilarious screenplay yet
i feel like we could
Seth: want to write a winter one-act?
me: i’d bring structure and anal-retentive detail
you’d bring hilarity
So I guess that’s in the works now?
(He also reminded me that NaNoWriMo exists, and I have come to the realization that this year is as good a year as any to attempt it.)
Amidst my life choices crisis, during a conversation about the TV show Castle:
me: maybe I should become a forensic pathologist
me: a medical examiner
Daniel: I know
I’m just questioning how much you like corpses
or how much less like normal I’d become
But in more recent news, I submitted my primary medical school application and started working on secondaries! (But the above is still a viable option. Just saying.)
My dad tells me this a lot.
Dad: Put some shorts on — it’s hot.
It’s usually in Mandarin Chinese, which puts it in more of an urgent/exasperated tone. I’m not entirely sure why he’s so insistent on telling me this, except that I think it makes him uncomfortable to see other people wearing more clothes than he is when it’s hot. After the past two days of excruciatingly hot weather (I was wearing shorts), today he took one look at my jeans and, despite the comfortable mid-80 degree weather, told me to put some shorts on. Why??? I’m perfectly fine with jeans, and I’d change if it were too hot. Stop micromanaging, Dad, I’ve got it under control. Also, for the record, I’m a lot more fashionable than he thinks I am. Not that I’m very fashionable at all — he just thinks I’m fashion-challenged or something. He says this even though he walks around all day every day in a tshirt and khaki shorts (or sweatpants).
My good friend Amy asked today if she could interview me on financial aid spikes at Stanford, and its impact on those who pay full tuition. I was quick to agree, although I mentioned that my dad could probably give some better insight on the financial impact. So I called home to see if he’d agree to an interview.
Dad: “Why does she want to talk to me? I don’t have anything special to say.”
My sister (who is home at the moment, and overheard the conversation, since my dad always answers on speakerphone): “Dad, they’re probably looking for someone representative of most people.”
Dad: “What do they need that for?”
My sister: “You’re the voice of the people!”
Dad: “I’M the voice of the people?! Oh no no no…”
At some point I mentioned that it’s to compare the impact on us versus the people on financial aid. (My dad gets very excited and riled up when he’s on the phone with any of his children. I’ve noticed this.)
Dad: “None of my children were on financial aid!!!!” (This is partially untrue — we did help with outside scholarships and by getting paid to staff in dorms)
Me: “No–Dad–I know that, I’m just–”
Dad: “But my youngest daughter cost me the most! I can tell you that!” (I’m the youngest daughter.)
Me: “….. Dad…..”
Dad: “But then! She was smart and saved me some money in her last quarter by camping!”
Me: “It’s called Camp Stanford*, Dad.”
Dad: “Yes, exactly. Camping!”
Me: “I–never mind…”
That is all.
* Camp Stanford is where you live in the dorms and participate in all the activities but don’t take any classes (generally) during your senior spring quarter. A good number of honors students do this, to focus on their research/theses, but some people just finish early and hang out. The benefit is reduced tuition ($9K reduction for spring 2011).
D: Well… have fun taking the MCAT!
T: I don’t think “fun” is how I would describe it…
D: Are you kidding me? I’ve heard it’s super fun! Like taking E!
T: … that makes me never want to try ecstasy EVER.
D: That’s a good thing. Later!