Friday, August 23, 2002

I want a Crunky bar. It's becoming an obsession. It isn't something from my childhood, it isn't some ritual food item during finals, it isn't one of those new protein bars. For all I know, it could be Soylent Green. I was rambling around with Scott a short time back, and he wanted to go to M&M, the new Asian grocery store on Third Ave. I still haven't had the chance to go to the Chinatown markets, so a sterilized and odor-free version for hipsters is a nice foray into the experience. They have all these great aisles of food with strange labels, packaged sushi, and fermented milk water. They have this amazing snack aisle with all these new candies.

One of my favorite things to do on a trip is try new candies, chocolates, and snack foods. I would never have found Nutty HoHos or Chix Stix if I hadn't stopped at random fast food stores across the country. NYC has the same random snacks, just concentrated. That's why the Crunky Bar caught my eye. The word 'Crunky' brings to mind some foreign word for 'tasty' or 'makes you farty' or something.

I decided that I didn't need to buy the Crunky bar, I would come back later. I have returned three times, and the Crunky bars were GONE! I've asked all the staff, I've tried other things, but deep down in my soul I know that the Crunky bar will be the tastiest thing I've ever had. They're sold out and don't know when they'll get them restocked. Help me!

Tuesday, August 20, 2002

I am just cranky. My knee was hurting all last week, and I take naproxen to keep the swelling down. It irritates my stomach, giving me wild near-death-experience heartburn. I'm a big baby when it comes to being sick, and my knee keeps me from sleeping well.

We're required to attend some classes this week, and I can hardly contain my spanky cranky enthusiasm. Today I did get an abacus for my classroom, along with ten thousand books. Maybe some of them are useful, I didn't feel like looking. Did I mention I was cranky?

Monday, August 19, 2002

I love my dear friend Jen. She questioned my reality by doubting the virus 'parvo'. Determined to prove that this disease isn't like my childhood memory of my mother putting baby rabbits in the garbage disposal (everyone in my family swears it didn't happen), I did a google search, then sent her the links.

But I also learned something fun and new! 'Parvo' is actually Latin for 'small'. From this moment, I shall only order a parvo cup of coffee, take a parvo break, and enjoy parvo cars. Is it possible to be parvo-callipygian?
What a bizarre and frustrating weekend. I was scheduled to take the big scary frigging huge math teacher test again on Saturday morning. Teaching Fellows screwed up last month, making me the main character of one of those awful "When animals attack" shows. As their bureaucracy disembowels me with claws of well-meaning ineptitude, I usually keep reminding myself that the individual staff are really good people who are trying to change a massive system. They're overworked, understaffed, and do an exceptional job creating a program out of thin air. I simply have the special skill of being their test dummy for mistakes.

I made sure to not plan anything for Friday night, ate healthy food, studied diligently. I came back from Texas earlier than necessary to make sure I would have time to refresh my skull for this test. It is entirely possible that I have already passed this test, but the Fellows program had screwed up and they don't have my results. They basically told me that I have to take the test over, just in case. This would have been fine, except that when I show up at 7:30 Saturday morning to Pace College, the testing company doesn't have me on their list. Damn, damn, damn. I had worried about this earlier this week when I returned home and didn't have an admissions tickets. Being a good little Teaching Fellow, I contacted them. Three times. Third time, I get snarky comments from Caroline, the head of our program. She explained that I was obviously an idiot, they have all their eggs in one basket, and I just needed to stop worrying. I'm not an idiot, I wasted an entire weekend in NYC when I could have gone to the beach with my friend Jim, and I'm mildly pissed off.

I had great times with Scott, Andy, Nick, David, and Marc this weekend, just hanging out, going to the Chocolate Bar, the movies, etc. My term paper must be finished today, which is why I suddenly felt strongly about writing in my blog, I guess.