Thursday, May 3, 2012

Meow Meow Meow Meow

le thon: tuna

Ladies and gentlemen, it's that time again. The time of the year when pillows go on vacation, leaving textbooks to fill the void for the huddled masses to rest their heads; when sleep dances ogre-like just out of reach, evading you like a coy yet oddly heavy-footed mistress; when the hours start to melt together til your life is just one big meal consisting of pasta noodles, raw vegetables, and nutella.

This is exam time.

For me I guess it's not too bad. I actually only have 3 exams over the 3-week exam period. Now if my math is right, that averages to approximately 1 exam per week. Which is high on the "Things That Are Extra Doable" list. Somewhere between "Cooking a meal for 1" and "Taking care of a cactus."

Extra doable. But some effort is involved. Apparently.

So that's my life right now. Exam study. Beach. Rain. Study study study. Grocery. Cook. Eat. Seinfeld. Sleep.

Welcome to my world. Please don't leave.

Oh, speaking of cook, so I'm pretty sure I ate cat food for dinner last night. This is not a joke.

I bought some canned tuna and canned salmon from the grocery (since I don't like cooking meat that hasn't been cooked already). But when I opened the salmon, it was not people food.

I scooped it out of the tin and plopped it on the plate. You guys, this was straight up Fancy Feast.

But, I mean, I ate it. It was only a little strange. Lies. It was extra weird.

And I'm pretty sure the tuna/paté aisle is the same as the pet food supplies. This was super unwise, grocery people. WAY too much overlap.


Ugh I wish I had more to tell you. After being gone for so long from the blogosphere you would think I had tales of wonder and awe and adventure to recount, but, alas, I do not.

Exam #1 in T-minus 8 hours. Bring it on.

UPDATE: Oh! I just thought of a story. So last week my Canadians and I hit the town in hopes of attending quiz night at MaNolans. But, to our ultimate dismay, MaNolans is a très popular quiz night hotspot, and we were denied admittance on account'a there weren't no seats. This pub ain't big enough for the 8 of us.

But since no one remembered their pistols, challenging the other patrons to a duel for the specific purpose of commandeering a table seemed almost silly. So we left.

Later that night, as we were swimming around from one casual dive to another, we ran into some other exchange students we know. One of the girls I'd met back in December at the ice-skating birthday party, but I didn't know her very well. (Obviously we had become friends on Facebook. This should come as no surprise.) Her name is Yvonne, and she's from Ireland. While I was standing a little off to the side, she came up to me, and, looking a bit flustered, she said, "You don't know me. And I don't know you, but I feel like I know you." She then proceeded to tell me how much she loves reading my blog, how it feels like I'm rehashing her experience in Nice exactly! How it's one of the 3 things in the world that gives her belly-laughs!

You guys, I legitimately felt like a celebrity. It was so strange. Awesome, but a peculiar feeling.

So, Yvonne, this post is dedicated to you. Because that made my night, and my week. And, honestly, without that story, this post was crap.

So thanks, girl!

Amitiés :)

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