My mom and I used to play a game. We'd listen to NPR and if there was a word I didn't know, I'd ask her what it was, and have her use it in a sentence. Afterwards, I would add it to my already prodigious vocabulary for a toddler, and use it when the opportunity arose. Mom's favorite story that was a result of this game was when I told a babysitter that "The full moon is so romantic." That was about when I was 4.
16 years later, the days of me not knowing what a word means are few and far between, but when I was home for Christmas this past December, she taught me a word that got me on a road to change my life. I had decided to wear footless tights with a houndstooth pattern on them that I had gotten at Target (forgive me, I'm a recovering fashion addict, and still get excited about clothes occasionally) That night, mom told me I looked lovely in the tights, then called me "a zaftig beauty" I (at 175 pounds) had suffered at the hands of the fashion industry and media, and considered myself "fat." It was, in fact, a big step out of my comfort zone to wear tights, since I feel really self conscious of my thick ankles.
I looked at mom all funny like and said "Zaftig?" She said, yeah, it means being curvy, and luscious and stuff like that. So, that day I decided I wasn't allowed to think of myself as "fat" I'm a "Zaftig beauty" and damn proud of it.
Second, I'm jonesing for some food, dude.
I'm not talking about the institutional CRAP that aramark feeds us. I'm talking about cooking something, being creative, going with whatever happens to be in the fridge, and also, eggs. I love eggs, I love to make pretty much anything that requires an egg, my favorite is poached, or scrambled, or eggs in a basket, or soufflés, or panakukken, or well, pretty much anything that requires eggs.
Anyways, I really want an omelette, I've been fantasizing about it all night. We'll start by sautéing some baby spinach and some diced tomatoes in a frying pan with a little olive oil. then set the veggies aside, saving the oil, and start to cook up the eggs (with a splash of milk in them, it's the secret to good scrambled eggs I think) and then...wait for it...PESTO! I discovered pesto about a year ago, and was like "OMG where have you been all my life?" It's delicious, and salty, and garlicky and YUMMMMM! Also, it's a technicolor green from the basil, and everybody loves fun colored food! Anyways, after we add the pesto, we'll cook up the eggs until they're almost not quite ready, then add the veggies and some feta cheese. but not too much, because feta cheese is like spiderman, you have to treat it bearing in mind that "with great power comes great responsibility!" (I totally came up with that analogy by myself, I feel proud of that)
So yeah, I've been fantasizing about this with some whole wheat toast like all night, which is just a cumulation of me fantasizing about real food all week. (but such is the life of a college student, where we subsist on pb&j and whatever crap we can afford at aramark aka the fried shit that's super bad for you)
There was something else I was going to talk about...but I can't remember, oh wait, it was about the assailant who keeps attacking women on my campus. I'm way to tired and crabby to talk about that tonight, perhaps we'll rant tomorrow, eh?
Sarah
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