8th Grade Science Class

Story time, kids.

8th grade was a year when almost none of my friends were in my class. At a school where there were 72 kids in each grade, split into two classes each year, I got the bum luck of being in class with only two people that I considered friends. They were both boys, and spent most of their time trying to sneakily hurt each other, so I was bored a lot – except in science class.

To be honest, I don’t know why this guy didn’t just take an early retirement after trying to teach us. We were awful. The entire class was loud, disrespectful, and altogether uncontrollable.

This sort of behavior was certainly out of character for me, and I knew I wasn’t supposed to be doing it. Overtly breaking school and classroom rules wasn’t a thing I did. This is going to sound sad, and I suppose that’s because it is, but it was nice to feel like I was part of a group with my classmates. Even if we were acting abhorrently toward our teacher, I was at least part of the “we” for those moments. Shitty, huh?

I don’t remember how it started, but somehow we got our hands on glue sticks and popsicle sticks. The class was quieter than usual, with only hushed muttering instead of outright talking between the students. A boy sitting at my table started digging into the glue stick with the popsicle stick, pulling out a big ol’ chunk of glue. He inspected it, and without a moment’s hesitation, took aim at the whiteboard that our teacher was currently writing on, his back to us. Using the leverage from the popsicle stick, he flung it clear from the back of the room to smack into the whiteboard directly above the teacher’s hand.

If our teacher saw it, he made no mention of it. I honestly don’t think he ever knew a thing about what was going on behind his back that particular day, aside from the usual talking and giggling. Anyone who could get their hands on the materials was suddenly flinging globs of glue stick at the whiteboard, the ceiling, and each other.

My favorite aspect of this story (and I feel like an awful person for this), was when a bit of glue stick hit our teacher square in the back of the head. As we sat, horrified, watching this chunk of purple glue stick cling to the back of his head, there were several tense seconds where we thought the jig was up, and we were all going to get detention. However, when moment after moment passed without any change, we slowly realized that our poor old teacher was just that oblivious to what was going on that day.

Later on, I saw him go to scratch his head. He touched the glue, and pulled his hand back, confused, looking to see what was on it. I could barely contain my evil, juvenile laughter as I saw him look at the glue glob and mutter, “How the heck did that get there?”

It wasn’t nice at all, but to this day it makes me smile. Hopefully an old teacher can forgive some rude, ignorant children for trying to find a little mirthful joy at his expense.

More to follow.

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Entertaining and Time

I like entertaining a bunch, but I have one huge thing stopping me from doing it consistently: time.

There are multiple reasons for this.

First of all, it takes me over an hour to get home after work, which means that most of my errands have to take place on the weekends, leaving less time for things like entertaining often. Sometimes (okay, often) I need a weekend where I have no commitments other than my own tasks.

I also live on the opposite side of D.C. from nearly all of my friends, so it can take them over an hour to get to me, making it easier just to meet up somewhere in the city instead of hanging out at my place.

That being said, I want to start doing it more often. I need my alone time and my time to run errands, but I also want to take advantage of living in an area where I have friends nearby. I want to either travel to see friends or make plans to see people in the area at least one day each weekend.

I guess it would also be nice if my friends in the area would make plans too. I’ve always been one of few planners in any group of friends, and I don’t mind it too much. It mostly gets to me when I ask my friends to do something and they either don’t respond, can’t commit, or flake out at the last minute. But those things can’t really be helped. The relevant part to this train of thought is that I want to invite people do to things, but I also want to be invited places. It’s no fun to do the bulk of the work all the time, even in order to have a fun time.

It’s the time component all over again. Why should I sacrifice my hard-earned, much sought-after free time to make plans every single time I want to see my friends? I shouldn’t. They should put in their time, too.

Hopefully I can get together with people sometime soon. I have plans to go on a short visit soon, and I know my roommate wants to plan a party for sometime in March. I hope that other people start spending their time to make fun plans that I’m a part of, too.

More to follow.

 

Food

How do single people do it?

I live with a roommate, but we buy our own food (aside from things like oil, spices, and rice – things that can be bought so cheaply and in such large quantities that it doesn’t make sense not to share). But buying food and cooking meals for one is really, really hard.

First of all, there’s the volume of food purchased. Most healthy food comes in quantities that aren’t meant for one person making one meal. I can’t eat a whole head of broccoli by myself, and even if I spread it out over the whole week, I would never want to see broccoli again.

Aside from that, occasionally I will go out to eat, order takeout, or spend a weekend away. Those things, while being absolutely what I want to do, don’t help me with going through food at a fast enough pace not to let things expire.

It limits my creativity a little. I want to spend time in the kitchen, getting used to cooking for more than just myself. I want what I cook to be palatable to people other than me and my boyfriend, who will tell me that anything I make is delicious.

If I find anything that seems to fit the bill for long-lasting healthy foods, or at least healthy foods that I don’t get bored of eating, I’ll write another post about it to share what I’ve found.

In the meantime, here’s a peek into my I-forgot-both-breakfast-and-lunch stash at work.

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Bowl noodles are not a meal. I repeat, bowl noodles are not a meal. See why this healthy and fresh food thing is on my mind?

More to follow.

Mystery Indian Restaurant Mission

I have given myself a mission.

This morning, I got off the bus and was finishing my walk to work, when I noticed that my new coworker was walking directly in front of me. I didn’t want to be all weird and say hi then, which of course caused me to be accidentally creepy as I walked about 20 paces behind her for the remaining five blocks or so to work. As we approached the door, I caught up to her and managed to say hello without feeling like too much of a weirdo, and we got into a conversation about our commutes.

As it turns out, she takes a bus with a route similar to the one my bus takes, since she lives in Columbia Heights, a neighborhood in the north end of D.C. Upon sharing that I live in Silver Spring, she told me that she goes there often, so she’s fairly familiar with the area.

We separated to go to our respective desks, but just now she came by to chat, and told me of a place. A glorious place in Silver Spring, kitty-corner to the Sprint store, next to a collectible coin shop. An Indian restaurant that is only open a few days a week, even then only for limited hours, and (purportedly) has amazing food.

In that moment, I felt the urge for adventure.

My coworker has never successfully visited this restaurant, due to her schedule and its limited hours. But I will. I will find this restaurant. I will find out its name and its hours. I will eat there. And I will report back.

More to follow.