10 September 2008

For once in it's sad old life, the Hewitt Dining Hall was brimming with excellent food. My dinner consisted of (in this order):
Stir fry on rice noodles with broth and lime.
Carrot Cake.
4 fairly large pieces of brisket with gravy (so good.)
"Confetti" rice pilaf (not good.)
Salad with too much blue (bleu?) cheese dressing.
"Rosemary" polenta with tomato sauce.
To be fair, I didn't eat much salad. I did eat way too much of the bad pilaf, though, before I realized there was polenta to be had. But even still, I think Mackenzie would've been proud.
Now my dilemma is what to do next. The theme of this entry is: It Never Rains But It Pours. For the last few days I have been bored senseless. Bored to the point of cursing loudly alone in my room... But to be fair, not to the point of cleaning my room.
My to-do list today is as follows:

(Old things I have been putting off:)
Go to B.Babysitting office and find job.
Fold laundry.
Acquire fridge.
Clean room.
Clip fingernails (**acquire nail clippers)
(New things--assigned today:)
Switch stupid CompSci book for newer, bigger, 160 dollar Textbook entitled "Big Java".
Do first Econ problem set (algebra, mostly).
Read last 200 pages of Ragtime.
Fix painfully long Hindi assignment from last week.
Memorize Hindi vocab--pronouns and corresponding "to be" verbs.
Read first three chapters of OTHER compsci textbook.

And, last but not least, watch House season premiere at 8.
And also... buy Hindi books.
Crap.

4 comments:

lara said...

Here's my suggestion for boredom in NY: get a time out NY, a village voice or a nyer and find all of the free concerts/exhibits/readings, etc., find a friend and GO. You'll hate yourself in 20 years if you don't. I promise.

Marni C. said...

Eva--Or e-mail your old auntie. Seriously. I love your writing and hearing your perspective on food, the universe, and everything.

xoxoxo

marni

Bing said...

Bored in New York? That's absolutely ridiculous.

lara said...

How was the House premiere? Don't know how I'm going to watch it now without my gym pass. . . .