3 posts tagged “italian”
What's your favorite ingredient to cook with?
GARLIC! and olive oil. this household goes through a ton of both of these things pretty often. We also go through a lot of cheese (esp. of the parmigiano or asiago variety)
I took a test on LiveJournal recently along the lines of "which country should you belong to?" My results were a tied Italian and German (quite accurate, I'm only a little Italian by blood but ridiculously Italian in personality, and I am hella German, that's about 90% of my family's heritage...), and second place tied to Irish and British (There's a fair amount of both Irish and British on my dad's side of the family, makes sense). But yeah, especially as far as the kitchen is concerned, Italian is pretty damn accurate.
Also: our freezer looks like it belongs to an Italian nonna these days, I made a huge batch of tomato sauce about a week ago, ate some, froze the rest, there is now no room in our freezer for naan...and we eat a lot of Trader Joes' frozen naan. We may need a second freezer. These are the times when I wish I kept my mini-fridge...
Really, I do. I hear people whining around here a lot ... "The surrounding area sucks! There are no men! We have no social lives! My classes are hard! Blah blah blah!"
-- Ummm, okay, A: Yes, the bit of Oakland that Mills happens to be plopped in the middle of is not the ideal college-student environment, but HELLOOOOOOO that's why we have the shuttle that takes us to Berkeley which is wonderful and really, if you want to go to the city, BART is not THAT expensive. Neither is the NL.
B: If you wanted men, why the hell are you at a women's college? Did you think the school would provide you with male company just because there's a lack of it? Ummm, no. On some level, I understand. I miss having male friends. To a degree. But really, it's much easier to get an education without them. If you don't agree, please transfer out.
C: You create your own fun, and your own social life. Having to work a little harder for it doesn't mean it can't be done.
D: IT'S COLLEGE. Classes will be challenging. Deal with it.
...now that we've got that straightened out -- I do, I LOVE this school. In the past three days I've experienced all of my 8 (!) classes, and they're all amazing.
My mornings (every.day.Monday.through.Friday.) start out with Italian 1 at Cal -- slightly intimidating because the course is taught in Italian, and, um, my brain is still thinking in English at 8 a.m. -- but other than that, it's amazing. Such a beautiful language, and the people seem nice. And the instructor isn't dull (makes all the difference in a language course).
Mondays and Wednesdays I have Shakespeare at 2:30. This is the ONLY class that I am slightly dreading -- just because I'm not fantastic at analytical literary essays ... I want to take that class, because I absolutely worship Shakespeare ... it's just that I only want to do the reading/discussing bit. I don't want to write things that aren't my own CREATIVE and/or fictional work. But I'll bite my tongue and do it, because I can't get better if I keep running away from it.
Then, it's a dash over to Turbo Kick (Kickboxing) at 4 M/W and AAAAAHHHH kickboxing is amazing/going to eventually be the end of me. It's going to be difficult because it's really kind of a ridiculously intense workout. I may cry a bit. But it's fun, the instructor is really upbeat and, um, if our bodies are even slightly as amazing as hers by the end of the semester, it's going to be SO.worth.it.
Tuesdays/Thursdays -- Art of the Modern World at 11. Taught by a really wonderful professor, and we're going to do some projects that sound amazing and awesome and just ... yay.
Then: Ballet 1 at ... 1. I was extremely nervous about this class, having not danced in A YEAR already. I was even more nervous when we did a very, very simple port d' bras exercise and my arms ACHED like heck afterward. Ballet arms are nothing near 'normal people' arms. My arms have been strictly non-ballet for a year, however, the pain was still surprising. But I'm going to love it, I know, because my soul aches for it. Even with all the crap ballet has put me through ... I need it somehow. I have been kicking myself for the last twenty-four hours for ever dropping out.
On Wednesdays I also have Beginning Vocal Ensemble at one. Beginning because nothing else worked with my schedule ( I wonder why... ) but it seems like it will still be fun. All we did this week was a quick audition with our instructor so she could place our voices.
On Thursdays I have Poetry Workshop at 4 p.m. I'm nervous -- I don't write in form, and I'm very selective about who can read my poetry. But this is good, this means I have to get over both of those things quickly. Our instructor is a published poet, and a visiting professor at Mills, and she seems really nice. We have a class blog on Wordpress, which I think is going to be a good way to comment on what we read/post our own poetry. This weekend we're supposed to write a Ghazal and/or a Pantoum (if you're curious, look up what those are here).
After dashing back from Italian on Friday mornings, I have Baroque Ensemble. It's a small instrumental ensemble, where I will play flute, and we were given a piece of music to go over today. I think I'll like it -- I've been missing playing my flute so much.
So, really, insano schedule. My friends don't think I'm going to survive. Thing is -- four of those classes I will never have real 'homework' in. I will practice for my music classes, but it's not homework. And the ones that I will have homework in are going to provide me with homework that will be fun to do (except for maybe Shakespeare, and I can live with that). So it's really not that bad. I just want to take advantage of as many interesting/diverse classes as I can before I have to buckle down and fill major requirements, y'know?
I am throwing my hands up in the air and giving in to what appears to be something I cannot get rid of, as I have tried for years: I am a night owl. I prefer to stay up until three a.m. and then groan as I crawl into bed feeling worn and sticky and then to wake up at 12 noon when everyone around me has already set their day in motion and I don't have to deal with the words 'good morning'. It is 11:48 p.m. and I am wide awake, far more than I have been all day. I have almost too much energy right now, and I'm tempted to go for a run or do some sit-ups (being home has forced me to realize that my family eats more fattening and numerous foods than any of us think, while I, left to my own devices, am a sort of picky-bird who grabs a salad and maybe a little bit of mac and cheese and picks at it until approximately half is gone. I love food, I just don't have much of an appetite lately. However, it's hard to live in this house and not eat the way they do. I have a feeling that the pants-size amount of weight that I lost over fall semester* is quickly finding a home again on my hips and midsection and that sit-ups may not be such a bad idea..). I fight this fact constantly, whining that I feel like half my day is lost when I wake up at noon (which, by all technical standards, it is) and that I don't sleep enough, yada yada yada. But I give up. I prefer night. I prefer dark. I prefer the quiet that enables me to hear myself tip-toeing around the house in search of pomegranate tea. I prefer that night means that I really have no responsibilities or obligations or orders to follow, yet I accomplish more than I ever do in the daytime. So I'm going to quit trying to change myself and simply allow myself to fall asleep when my body begs me to do so, and wake up when I'm tired of being asleep. Simple as that.
However, this will be a problem in exactly 9 days, when I will be starting a four-month long routine of stumbling out of bed at 6 a.m. to board a loud and smelly bus at 7 and struggle to stay awake in class at 8. Now I wonder: Is learning Italian really worth it?
* What amount of weight does a pants size signify? 5, 10 pounds? I have no idea. All I know is that shopping with Jamie almost two weeks ago, I realized that I can, suddenly, fit into a pair of jeans one size tinier than any that I own, and that Jamie hates/congratulates me for it.