NaBloPoMo!

Tomorrow marks the beginning of November, a month which also happens to be National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo).  As such, tomorrow also marks the beginning of thirty consecutive days of posts.  It will be a long, arduous task, not just for me, but also for you, dear reader.  You will likely have many incoherent ramblings chucked at you through the miracle of the internet.  I hope you won't stray too far, difficult though the month may be, and in return, I'll try not to make the coming month too painful in terms of what I write and you (hopefully) read.  Take my virtual hand and I'll pull you along; I hear there's strength in numbers.

These people and their bananas.

Story time!
By Me

It's a lovely Saturday morning. I get up, put in an hour of practice (all the way across campus, no less), pretend to be athletic at the SRC, and take a shower, all by 11:30. Feeling excellent about my productivity for the morning, I make my way to the dining hall (hereafter "Saga") for some serious brunchin'. I get excited as I approach, seeing at least half the people I pass carrying one, two, or even three bananas. 

(Side note: bananas, I have learned, are only available at Saga on Saturday and Sunday mornings at brunch.)

This means bananas haven't run out yet! Even as I swipe my card, people walk past me with bananas in tow. I, nearly giddy with banana joy, make a beeline for the fruit baskets and see...a lack of bananas? Excuse me? This is why I'm here. My purpose in life this week could be to make that banana cake I mentioned a few weeks ago. And that purpose has now been thwarted by the greater Wheaton population. The worst part? This happens every week. It's more disappointing than checking my mailbox and seeing another pizza coupon.*

The solution:
1. People need to follow the "only take one piece of fruit with you when you leave Saga" rule. Rest of the week, I don't care. Take as many bruised apples and oranges as you want.  Saturdays, save some bananas for the rest of us.
2. Saga staff should regulate the replenishing of banana supplies throughout the morning. Don't put them all out at 10. Fifteen minute intervals, a giant-sized gumball machine, special banana monitors - do whatever needs to be done; the problem must be remedied.
3. Saga chefs should realize that we'd clearly rather have plenty of bananas on the weekend than a lame banana bread Monday morning. Seriously.
4. Don't eat ten bananas at one meal. I promise, you can get potassium from other foods. Yes, bananas are rumored to calm nerves and soothe mosquito bites and stimulate production of hemoglobin, but come on. Moderation.

region orchestra auditions: George calms his nerves

What I'd like to see at brunch.

Seriously, though. These people and their bananas. It's ridiculous.

*new tactic for combating depression: send college students mail. Anything but pizza coupons and ads for study abroad programs. Send it to me at:
Margaret Winchell
CPO 3216
501 College Ave.
Wheaton, IL 60187

Final answer.

Yes, college is good.
No, I don't know what I'm doing with my life.
Yes, I'm majoring in everything.
Yes, every major has classes I'm dreading.
No, that doesn't mean I plan to give up.
But no, I can't do everything.

Yes, my roommate's fine.
No, we're not best friends.
Yes, I have other friends.

Yes, I understand that the summer is a good time to do stuff and learn stuff.
No, I haven't even begun to think about what I'm doing this summer
Because yes, summer is still seven months away.

Yes, I miss high school.
Yes, I would love to edit paper* for life.
Yes, classes are good.
But no, I'm not ready to go back yet.

Yes, I'm conflicted.
No, answering questions about it won't help.
Thank you.

Stick it to the wall.

It has gradually dawned on me that I’m a visual learner, and tonight, that little sunrise of realization made its way onto my wall.  I now introduce to you the Post-it Brick Wall method of outlining a paper.

• How it works: main points of thesis (orange) each get a column, ensuring that everything relates back to that pesky thesis.
• green stickies are sub-points within each paragraph to keep rambling at bay.
• each brick represents a paragraph.

Why it’s preferred to simple Roman numerals outline:

• post-its are so. much. fun.
• color makes life more interesting.
• it can be adjusted far more easily than copy-and-pasting and redoing all the Roman numerals.
• no stupid tabbing.

Cons:

• very little guarantee that all post-its will still be there tomorrow morning.
• funny looks from your roommate.
• potential for ink smudges on your hands after sticking them to the wall. (Note: this could also be seen as a pro if you like the “hard worker” look of inky hands.)

I also give myself points for resourcefulness with using the provided bricks as paragraph breaks.  Now if only inspiration would strike before midnight, it’d be really lovely.

"Describe your perfect date."

"I'd have to say April 25."

OK, not quite.  But as far as describing the perfect day goes, today came pretty close, especially considering how it could have gone down.  Wednesdays are my busiest day.  My first class starts at 8, and my last ends thirteen-and-a-half hours later, with few breaks in between.

But I had a chem test today, which could have gone terribly awry.  Thanks to a couple solid hours of studying (which is kind of new for me), it was a really great test.  I very much appreciate well-made tests.  It was perfectly suited to the time frame we were given. It was entirely fair in that it corresponded to what we learned in class. I doubted myself more than once, but pushed through to find that I actually did know how to figure it out most of the time.  It was hard, but I came out of it thinking that I had actually done a pretty OK job of the thing, and that’s what’s rewarding - knowing that it could have gone awfully but didn’t.

What came in the middle of the day was something of a blur.  Chapel was fine; French included the usual songs and jokes; and my wellness class was laughable as always. 

Then more randomly exciting events transpired: I got my bizarrely high practice requirement for the week fulfilled by 3:00 this afternoon. I finished my reading of this week’s Greek tragedies. Symphony sectionals ended half an hour early, allowing me a full fifteen minutes extra to go back to Chorale rehearsal, and then another extra fifteen to take my sweet time getting to lab. 

And even better was the lab itself: combustion!  It was a lab requiring some patience, but I can be methodical when I want to be.  Despite the fact that I had to miss all-school communion because of lab, it was very satisfying watching paper and acid burn off, leaving nothing but some little white chunks of BaSo4 in a cute little crucible.  (Equally satisfying was our instructor’s unintentionally funny remark that we can “feel free to bring back acid from the hood.”)

And then at its lovely, breezy, mid-sixties conclusion, I discovered quite the little gem: CocoaNova, courtesy of the 'rents.  Soooo delicious. And I even had time to blog about it.

The day wasn’t great because anything unusually fun or exciting happened, but because it was all close enough to normal that it seems plausible for it to all happen again.  After all, there’s not much better than a good day than the prospect that many more days like it are waiting in the wings.

Theoretical Baking

Entertain this thought with me: what if I were able to bake more (and more easily) by supplementing my ingredient stash with dining hall offerings? 

For example, I just found a recipe for a banana cake that uses these ingredients:
2 2/3 c. all-purpose flour minus 2.5 tablespoons
2 2/3 c. sugar
3/4 tsp. baking powder
1 1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. kosher salt
3 large or 4 small very ripe bananas
3 eggs
1/2 c. buttermilk
3/4 c. canola oil
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

Of those, I lack buttermilk and bananas.

The rules of the dining hall permit taking one piece of fruit per diner per meal with you when leaving the dining hall, and it’s quite a common practice to bring your own cup and fill it up before you leave.  So what if, theoretically, I got two (well, two large or three small) friends to each take a banana with them when they left, and I brought a lidded cup, filled it with milk, squeezed a sufficient number of lemon slices from the hot tea area into the milk to make homemade buttermilk, and nabbed a banana myself?

Theoretically, then, this banana cake wouldn’t even require a trip to the store, which would, in a very non-theoretical way, be delicious.

Bibliovore, Literally

It’s not often that I recommend a book before I’m finished reading it (and by “not often,” I mean that it’s something I’ve never done).  But here we are, and I have a book for you.

It wasn’t long after starting to read The Odyssey that I decided that if I wanted to retain my ability to finish a book, I should probably read something written more recently than 1000 years ago.  So I made my trek to the Wheaton Public Library with a very specific goal: this book. After searching through many, many books with nearly the same call number, I found it, went through the hassle of sitting down with the little old ladies who run the library, signing things, filling out forms, watching them print out my name on a little label-maker, and getting my library card.

But I’m telling you, it’s worth it.  This book doesn’t only have happy little stories about food and all the people the author grew up with, but it also has recipes.  Lots of them.  For delicious things like banana bread with chocolate and crystallized ginger.  Like little corn cakes with bacon, tomato, and avocado.  Like a bread salad with cherries, arugula, and goat cheese (a little weird, but delicious, I’m sure). Like fresh ginger cake with caramelized pears. Like rum cream pie with a graham cracker crust (though I’d be hard-pressed to find rum in Wheaton).  So excited. 

Get it, read it, eat it.

And do visit the woman’s blog.  It’s a winner.