Oh for the love of Pete.

DISCLAIMER: I LOVE MY PARENTS.

Now.

Sometimes, parents can get on your nerves. (Just like children, I'm sure, can crawl under a mother or father's skin and act like horrible creatures.) Today my mom and dad were on my nerves.

The following is a conversation I had after relaying the small annoyances of the evening.

K: "Do you think you know my mom well enough to tell me when I'm acting like her?"
A: "Haha. Hah... I don't know."
K: "Well, do you?"
A: "I'm not sure."
K: "Have there been times when I'm saying something, and you're like, 'she sounds like her mom'?
A: "...yes."
K: "...like when?!"
A: "I don't know. I don't know!"

Oh boy. OH BOY. The thing is, I think I can identify those times. It's when I'm talking about some thing, and his face is reading like an open book (titled "Definitions of Common Emotions") and I think...oh god I bet I sound like my mom. Sometimes I stop, and sometimes it just keeps coming.

Thank you for being honest.

I need to get out of dodge. Pronto.

PUSH

Last week, I heard Sapphire speak for U of M's Martin Luther King Jr. Day celebrations. The Rogel Ballroom was completely full at 10 minutes to the start of the talk, so I made my way through the Diag to the overflow room in the grad library.

She is a writer, and a storyteller. It was fabulous. She is the author of, among other things, "Push," the novel that inspired the recent movie "Precious."

Before she began reading a few sections from "Push," she told us the story of how she started to write. I'm going to paraphrase, but bear with me.

I don't remember when I started writing. But I remember when I stopped. It was in the 8th grade, when we had to write an essay for our English class. My teacher told me, "You didn't write that." With the underlying assumption that I shouldn't have written that.

Then I started reading more works by black women authors, Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, and on and on and on. And I realized that I could follow this path, that the path was open not just to white men, but to me. And I began writing poetry and stories.

OH it was SO cool.

There were high school students in the audience, and she said something which struck me as out of place, because I have been immersed in a University setting for so many years now.

She explained what an MFA is.

I got my MFA, a Master's of Fine Arts, which is something you can apply to do after you graduate from college.

It was such a matter-of-fact explanation. That I had never heard before. She didn't act patronizing. I shouldn't have been so surprised, but I'm glad I learned something on MLK day.

Teeth and Food

Update:

Getting my tooth pulled was so anti-climactic. It doesn't hurt. I can eat pretty much anything. It's been a little less than 36 hours since it was pulled.

I got to keep it. Dr. Anderson put it in a plastic lavender treasure chest.

And I'm going to leave you with this:

"Whether you live in Detroit and have a very modest income, or live in Ann Arbor and are very (strong) financially, you live in the midst of a broken food system," Hesterman said. "The place where the symptoms of that broken food system are felt most harshly are in the city of Detroit.

"But our food system is as broken as our health-care system. If you have enough money and access, you can buy your way into Ann Arbor. If you have unlimited (finances), you can make-believe that's not a problem, but we know that doesn't mean there's not an issue with a broken system."

http://www.annarbor.com/business-review/oran-hesterman-reinvents-fair-food-network-to-redesign-broken-food-system/

Apples and Teeth: REDUX

Right now I'm using leftover apples and pears, donated by Rory, to make applesauce. Last week I was filled with ambition, and that ambition was telling me to make King Arthur Flour's Tarte Tatin. Granny Smith apples were bought and it was shaping up to be a good thing, and then I got even more apples, so it was looking even better. But as I was standing over the apples (they were kind of old) and some (really old, think Thanksgiving) Meijer frozen pie crust...the ambition kinda waned. I am not one not waste things, though.

The applesauce will come in handy tomorrow. Because my orthodontist and dentist have conspired to steal one of my teeth. Can you believe them?! MY. TOOTH. I tweeted about having severe separation anxiety, and it was kind of a joke, but it is also completely serious because, and I don't know if anyone has ever shared this with you before, but a tooth extraction is when someone takes you tooth and doesn't give it back.

Ugh.

The obvious remedy to my separation anxiety is listening to the "adventure" playlist from time spent traipsing around Eastern Europe, eating bananas+chocolate+peanut butter, blogging about my first world problems, and trying to convince myself that the gap will close quickly and that having one bottom central incisor will not be that noticeable.

I'm fighting a losing battle.

In other news, for those 3 of you who read my blog regularly, my boss and I had a morning meeting at Comet Coffee, which makes THE most delicious cup of coffee ever. In the past, I did not consider myself a coffee snob. Let me just say that a full-time job and long-distance relationship can quickly alter a person.

There are lots of other friend-related things happening. My precious little Mazda 3 got a trip to the car wash today, after we made her a spare key so I don't get locked out of my car. Luckily we made it to today without that unfortunate incident happening.

Malika, Carrie, and I had dinner at the Grange for restaurant week here in A2, and I had the most delicious piece of beef in a long, long time. With little brussel sprouts* and parsnips and broth and oooohhhh baby. Someday I will cook red meat like that. But that day is not today.

Because I won't be able to chew it tomorrow.

Happy Friday, guys. I will not be a happy camper tomorrow, but I'll look on the bright side because, like I said, first world problems.



*fact time: the blog spell check says I spell "brussel" wrong unless it's followed by the word "sprouts"

A Toast is in Order

The University of Michigan's provost, Terry Sullivan, will become the University of Virginia's 8th president (and first female president!) on August 1st.

She is so intelligent, I can't contain myself.

Here's an article from UVA's website: http://www.virginia.edu/uvatoday/newsRelease.php?id=10680.

My favorite parts include: she teaches and publishes still, she is a sociologist, she went to school at MSU, and she met her husband there when he was president of the debate team she wanted to join.

And she said this: "You just don't know where I might turn up when I get to Charlottesville."

How about Trailridge Rd?

Post-Christmas Blues

Does anyone else get this? I took down my Christmas tree yesterday and it took all my inner strength not to melt into a puddle of sobs. And it had nothing to do with the fact that I decided to undertake this sad task on the day my best friend ever drove on back to Charlottesville...really.

The past nine days off from work (thirteen including weekends) were absolutely blissful. I saw many wonderful friends from far off places. Watched movies. Gave gifts, got gifts. Sang a lot of Lady Gaga. I've had lots of thoughts lately, and have to mostly keep them to myself. For they are not ready to be seen by the world.

(Side note: writing the word "Christmas" made me think of the fish my aunt got at our first annual family white elephant gift exchange. There were three of them, so she named them Mary, Chris, and T-Mas so that one fish wouldn't be named Christ. I'm not even sure they're all still alive, but I kind of hope that T-Mas is the last to go.)