Productivity fail

Things I promised myself I would do today:
1. Get up at a reasonable hour
2. Laundry
3. Work out
4. Finish Beowulf
5. Start The Tempest
6. Go to CVS

What I actually did today:
1. Wake up around noon (no class Fridays FTW)
2. Have a really, really extended lunch
3. Hour and 45 minute meeting for an activity
4. Watch whole hours disappear as I stared at a computer screen
5. Read a little bit of Beowulf
6. Buy enough instant oatmeal from amazon.com to last me to infinity and beyond

Not exactly how I had intended to start off the school year. Procrastination has begun way too early. I turned in my study card all of one day ago and I'm already behind where I'd like to be with my reading. Priorities say what?

I've always had trouble sitting in one place for more than about 30 minutes at a time, but it's especially bad when I need to read lots and lots of pages in one sitting. Here's a short list of things that distract me:

• Messes
• Noises
• Breezes
• Moving things
• Lights
• Bright colors
• People
• The internet
• Strange smells
• Anything that flutters (butterflies, pieces of paper, feathers, etc)
• Uncomfortable clothing
• Being cold
• Being hot
• Total silence

And cats. They distract me too.
Source

Life is rough.

To my credit, my desk hasn't turned into a black hole of disorganization and entropy yet. That's one point for me.

Artificial Women: a.k.a. Rich B*tches

ORLY?

So, I watched an episode or so of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills today while I wrapped Christmas presents. Okay, I may have watched more than "one or so." But whatever. What's important is that I realized that those women are the very emblems of why I am proud to come from the sticks. They symbolize why money can be evil. And the best part is, they don't actually realize that the word "Real" mocks them, rather than makes them seem more impressive. Here are a few reasons why these ladies are so damn UN-real:



1. They're made of plastic. So much plastic. Someone should tell every single one of them that lifting their faces and injecting their lips does not make them more attractive. Their chests simply do not look real. If you have to purchase your physical features,  you're trying too hard.

Cute as a doll. Not as a person.

2. They shout "You're so fake!" at one another so frequently that it must be the truth. About all of them. They're saying it themselves.

3. At any given time, their hair looks "did" and their make-up looks airbrushed on. This is pretty at a party, but in one's own home, again, it just looks like they're trying too hard. If they were really pretty, they would brush out their hair, put on some eyeliner, and be done with it.

4. Their lives are sterile. There's not a speck of dirt on their clothes, in their homes, or on their snowy white yap-yap dogs. Life is slightly dirty. There's something not quite right about how clean these women are.

True story.

5. Their children are more spoiled than the leftovers wrapped in tin foil hidden at the back of your fridge. Seriously. Growing up isn't about getting everything that you want and more. If it is, then I did something seriously wrong when I was younger. Honestly, this show makes me want to transport the kids to a rural farm, park them with  a working-class family, and see what happens.Now, wouldn't that make for an interesting reality TV show?

Wouldn't it be nice to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth?

6. They air kiss at parties. But they're not European, so it just looks stupid. Oh, and they squeal with excitement while they air kiss because "OMG, I haven't seen you since like, yesterday! And you look fantastic! You're just so sweet!"

It's not just the housewives of Beverly Hills that follow this trend. The Barbie-esque stereotype of "beauty" seems to be the look of choice of all of the "real housewives" on Bravo. This encompasses those of Atlanta, New York, the O.C., and maybe a few other cities that I'm not remembering right now. But the point is, I've seen at least a few episodes of every series. These women live in impressive cities. They throw fantastic parties, drive luxurious cars, and buy fabulous houses. They receive extravagant gifts from their husbands, go on exotic vacations, and never ever worry about cash. And yet, I don't want to be them. I don't want to walk on eggshells on for my entire life. I don't want to "watch my back" because my neighbors are vindictive. I want to be able to say what I want, eat what I want, and be friends with whoever I want, without having to consider possible backlash. I would rather be happy than rich.

Sugar and Spice and Reality TV

Here's the thing about reality TV. I don't watch any shows habitually. I don't wait until 8pm every Tuesday because I just HAVE to know who's going to be kicked out of the house this week. However, I tend to watch reality TV shows in marathons during school holidays. Consequently, my day today consisted of hours upon hours of Top Chef: Just Desserts. Yes. I watched the entire season. Okay, I missed the first few episodes and napped through a couple of the later episodes, but I still feel as if I have invested my entire life in the show.

I hadn't seen a single episode of the show before today, but by the time I got to the finale, I was sooooo glad that Yigit, the adorable and funny and talented gay man was named winner over Morgan, the cut-throat, overly-competitive a**hole. I feel as if I've known the contestants forever (okay, I exaggerate). I could tell you their specialty dishes and when they're having off days (not an exaggeration). How do we become so invested in these reality shows? I don't actually know these people. I can't really relate to them at all. I'm no pastry chef. Yet for some reason, I feel as if I MUST know their fates. After a few episodes, it's clear that winning this competition is the single most important thing on the planet. It's more important than school and wars and the future of nuclear technology. Because if you're not a winner, you're a loser. And no one wants to be told to "please pack your knives and go home."

This is Yigit. He awesome and he won.

This is Morgan. He's a jerk and he lost. 

Here's one theory on why I became so involved in Top Chef just Desserts: it showed me hours upon hours of people making chocolates and cakes and ice creams and pastries. Since I'm a fatty-Mcfat-fat when it comes to anything with sugar in it, I think shows about sweets are awesome. Seriously, I have the sweet tooth of a hyperactive ten year old on Halloween. I've been an avid fan of Top Chef for years, but this "Just Desserts" season reaffirmed my belief that sweet > salty.

Mango Panna Cotta, Acai Fluid Gel, Tarragon Syrup, Passion Fruit Sorbet. OMG WANT.

Now, people often ask me how I can watch the food network (and other foodie shows, because this one is obviously on Bravo) without just wanting to eat more. Shouldn't looking at all the food I can't have be torture? Well, I counter: is watching a professional sports game torture because you'll never be as good as the pros? Is reading Harry Potter torture because you'll never attend Hogwarts (sorry, Harvard is close, but not quite the same)? No way. I love sugar. Like, for real. And although I can't taste or even smell anything that's on the television, I can dream and I can pretend. I've got a pretty impressive imagination, so I work with what's given to me.

Dark Chocolate Stracciatella Mousse Torte with Milk Chocolate Grand Marnier Caramel Sauce

Look at that photo (above). How can your imagination not run and run and run? One thing I learned during my summer in Italy was that Stracciatella is DELICIOUS. As in, if all of the Ancient Greek gods put their powers together to make one food item, it would be Stracciatella. Add milk chocolate, caramel, and an orange garnish...DIVINITY. WANT SO BADLY.

Table of chocolate. No, MOUNTAIN of chocolate.

But sometimes, I don't want cake or fruit or pastry. I want chocolate and chocolate only. So when it came time for the Godiva chocolate bon-bon making challenge, I just about drooled all over my fatty-McFat-fat self. So.Much.Chocolate. Milk chocolate, white chocolate, dark chocolate, chocolate with nuts, chocolate with exotic spices. Bon-bon craving in 3...2...1.

Table of bon-bons. Because a table of straight up chocolate isn't enough.

Yes, I really did this with my day. Don't judge me.