Life With a Cat Named Kick Me

As I sit here waiting for the Pea Pod guy to show up and trying to convince the cat to stop licking my fingers, I can’t help but think that my parents should have taught me to cook more than just tacos—they’ve been my substinence for the past 3 weeks, ever since I ran out of chicken (thanks, Mom, for using it all while you were here).  The first time I made tacos here at Harvard I thought I was being innovative and was super-de-duper impressed with myself.  Now that I eat tacos 4 out of 7 nights of the week, I’m pretty sure that I am no longer innovative.  Nor am I impressed anymore. 

It’s about this time of the semester that I am also realizing that I have a whole lot of work to do and not a lot of motivation with which to get it done.  And so I leave you now, with intentions to read for H397, but recognizing that’s prabably wishful thinking 🙂

of Law & Order: SVU.  There are few things that I love more than that television show.  My God, my family, my dog, skiing.  Yea that about covers it all. 

 I did the unthinkable today.  When I moved here from small town US of A I promised myself it was something that I would never do, I would never give in to the city that much.  I couldn’t forget my roots, act like a Bostonian, be so lazy.  And now I sit here, having just ordered my groceries online.  And I feel WONDERFUL.  They’ll be delivered to my doorstep tomorrow evening (at my convenience, of course) and I don’t have to worry about making it to the o-so-crowded grocery store or only buying what I am able to carry home.  Oh, the pampered city life.  I could really get used to this.

Or not.  I mean they don’t even know what a beef on weck is here and chicken wings–ha, they’re a joke!  What I wouldn’t give for day of Western NY cuisine.  Mmmm.