Ramblings

It occurred to me this evening, as I peeled my fourth mandarin orange of the past hour, that such high levels of citrus could have a damaging effect on my health. This being me, I panicked for about four seconds then kept peeling.

I think I need more friends here. Not because I'm lonely or anything, but because I've been playing "Fields of Gold" so many times on my guitar and forcing my friends to sit through it that I need some fresh meat, lest I drive away the few people that have humored my buzzing strings to begin with.

I spent the greater part of my afternoon sweeping my cage--I mean, apartment. I would like to point out that my room is carpeted. I swept my carpet. I don't have a vacuum. I don't know what's more depressing: the fact that I cleaned the god-awful red carpet with a hand broom, or that the venture took me over an hour. Good work, Team Olivia.

I have finally registered for classes for next semester, after being sent on quite the scavenger hunt from my program coordinator, to the Old Arts Building, to the internet, then back to my coordinator and back to Old Arts. I'm now pleased to say that Zoe the Receptionist is my new best friend and she knows everything there is to know about me. What's scary is that I actually think I mean this. I bet people with her job learn a lot about students based on the courses they choose. I wonder what my selection of the Victims class says about who I am as a person...

For lunch this afternoon I decided to saute some carrots and red potatoes with chili powder and rosemary. I poured the oil into the pan, heated the veggies in the microwave to get them partially cooked, then added them to the oil. For the next half hour I was back and forth between the kitchen and my room where I was watching an episode of (surprise surprise) The West Wing. Every time I checked on my food it wasn't even remotely done. It took me 45 minutes to realize that I never actually turned on the burner. In my defense, there's a lot one must consider when cooking food. Naturally when one spends so much time chopping and microwaving and sprinkling with herbs, one cannot be expected to actually cook the food too.

I had a dream the other night in which my friend Sara (who is visiting me in July) arrived in Australia, took one look at my apartment, and hopped on the next flight to L.A. I have yet to tell her that I'm concerned she might really do that.