on Smores

Graham crackers are just the snack to cheer a kid up; throw in some chocolate and we'll have a party, but melt everything down with a marshmallow, and you'll be sending your kid to get their cholesterol checked out before they turn eight.

Smores - I just cringe at the word. Camp fires are great! You shiver and convince yourself that the fire you are dangerously close to is actually warming you up, which in reality, there is no longer any hair on your knuckels and your back facing away from the fire has just welcomed the next Ice Age. 

And, not to forget mentioning that every article of clothing worn near the fire will make you smell like a smoke house until you jump into the freezing cold lake the next morning because all you could smell throughout the night was baked ham; let's face it  -- all camp fires smell like baked ham, I don't know why, and smoked ham does smell good, but not as a walking, talking, knuckle-hair freed person. Maybe that is where the term, "honey" in "hello there honey" was first applied. The men can't help it but think of honey-baked ham as they greeted their partners. Stretching it a little?

I just caught the rabbit.
Smores. The point I'm trying to make is that graham crackers should be be graham crackers. Chocolate should be chocolate. And marshmallows should be marshmallows. Individually, they are superb, but mix them together, and the awesomeness just might light your world a fire and send you into some form of a sugar coma - the kind that makes you want to eat Slim Jim Tabasco-flavored beef jerky and capers just to counter the taste.

This is how I eat a Smore:
1. take all of the chocolate and stash it for later.
2. light the marshmallow on fire, let it burn for a few so it is nice a crispy.
3. eat char-grilled marshmallow.
4. play with fire (inner pyro)
5. take fire and light other things on fire - leaves, other food items, leg hair, etc.
6. slowly eat chocolate as embers dull.
7. eat graham crackers for breakfast.

Take it or leave it, but at least think about it, and in your case, forever smell like ham. 

that awkward moment... :elbows

Hashtag...

that awkward moment when only your elbows are peeling because they got burned while you were on Spring Break, a week ago.

Club dei Brutti

The Italian Club dei Brutti is the World Association of Ugly People. I viewed a film on this club during my high school career and immediately desired to join my comrades. 


Their motto is "A person is what he is and not what he looks like," and has the approach of "Ugliness is a virtue, beauty is slavery."


As my roommate and I stood before the bathroom sink mirror this morning, we looked at ourselves and asked, "why are we so ugly?" We had not yet gone through the make-up lathering ritual, and officially coined the phrase, "rough." This phrase can be used as in, "looking rough, we are looking rough, and tough and rough."


At least we have each other. 


You are unique, along with everyone else. You are ugly, along with everyone else. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What is beauty. What is true beauty. Can it ever be true. And in it's untruthfulness, is that what makes something beautiful, because it is "rough" around the edges. It has character.


Well, as we were walking around campus to get our exercise and pursue the explosion of thoughts and this issue among many others, I found several charming, un-beautiful things. And for that, they were beautiful.

Please contact me if any of these belong to you. And for now, I'll hold onto them for safe keeping.

They hold sentimental value and whatnot in my pocket.

cockroach in salad

As I approached the salad bar to take an orange or ten, a girl walked past, and in a voice that was barely audible, almost surreal, remarked, "Don't eat the salad; there is a cockroach in there."

How alarming was I to face this reality. I convinced myself that despite the diseases that could be carried by these creatures, they are a small source of protein - although, I'm not paying for unclean food...

So, I sit here and eat my salad, with this grotesque image embedded in my memory, of a lovely little bit of protein waltzing around in my salad greens.

Take it or leave it, but at least compare your healthy desires with the lesser ones and make an executive decision on which evil of the two you will choose: fried grease or unclean healthiness.

Hole punch, a college investment

Of everything that I brought with me to college,  few objects seem to surpass all others.

I'd have to say the following are:
hole punch
Hamilton Beach tea kettle
free O'Henry's Coffee cup

Sustainability, durability, and resourcefulness are the keys here. I did have a nice digital watch for awhile, but it apparently didn't look feminine-like, so I haven't worn it since. It's true though, and even though I bought it because of it's durable appearance, sleekness, and digital aspect, looming judgment of my peers swayed my decision. I secretly still keep it in my backpack. But why wear a watch when I have a cellphone that has the time anyways? That's all I really use my cellphone for anyways because I can't upload pictures anymore; I only call home; and the people that I need to be texting are always right beside me anyways.

Thus begins the quest for a feminine-looking durable and antique/classy watch.
Pinterest has helped me in this search; if anyone has $175 to spare, give me a ring, because you'll be the first outside of my family to call me on my time-keeping cellphone.

I use the hole punch more than I use my Chacos.
I probably boil the water 9 times a day so that the 5 times that I actually have tea, the water takes less time to boil because the water is already warm from the last time I boiled it. Semi-hot water always has to be on standby in our joint.
At the beginning of my freshman year in college, I was given a coffee cup, and it has lasted me since. It is quite nice, and I'd love to be a freshman again  just for the free stuff everybody hands out.

Take it or leave it, but at least know, that if anything, there is nothing like a college student strung out on coffee-to-go with all of his papers hole-punched.

Becquer: Haiku

on Becquer
El alma sufre
percepcion corre, pues
el cuerpo suena.


on Avellaneda
Mariposa de
mi alma tranquila esta
fantasma bello.

Those terrible days

My terrible days are Tuesdays and Thursdays.

I gauge the terribleness by the length, work that is due, and people I will be around.

Not only was today bound to be terrible, but the lack of sleep had to have accounted for the great expectation that it would be, in fact, a very terrible day.

These days are so terrible, in fact, that I dread waking up to them, thus, ensuing that I will wake up extra early just so I my mind can anticipate their terribleness. As much as I love going to bed at 1am and body clock waking myself up at 5am, and my class doesn't begin until 8:30am, my day doesn't end just there: I have work and two more classes to get through until 5pm, when at that time, I will be the first in line for dinner in the Caf.

What do I do to get through these terrible days? I dress up. I try to present myself with a look of care, and my own self-study has proven that my mood picks up, and I tell myself, "if all else fails, at least I didn't let myself go." But by then, it is the end of the day, and I'm looking rough, real rough, but the concept of confidence remains.

I will always be assured that these days will be terrible. I will always be assured that if I expect these days to be absolutely terrible, then they will most likely turn out okay, and I will be pleasantly surprised. 

I can always count on it being a little cooler in the mornings; I can always count on the sun setting in the evenings, and I can always count of a promise of tomorrow. Will I then live today for tomorrow, and tomorrow, I will live for today?

The birds will always chirp, even though not necessarily the same birds.

Terrible days aren't too terrible. Every little sweet thing will come as a pleasant surprise, and every little terrible thing will not change a thing because everything is already terrible.

Terrible will not make terrible more terrible. And simplicity will make terrible more terrific.

And without you, today's emotions would be the scurf's of yesterdays.