Spring Break, Part 3: The End (and random stuff)

Friday I met up with Laura for Italian food. Saturday I actually spent by myself running errands, cleaning my room, vegging out in front of the TV and relaxing. Sunday I went to Park Avenue United Methodist Church. Happy Easter! (The Easter Eggs photo above is from jowra.com/photos/easter-eggs/). At church I got to sing the Hallelujah Chorus, which rocks! It's one of the most-fun things for a singer to sing.

Then I returned to the apartment where I tried to make Dutch Letters. It was a disaster! Several things worked against me. I don't have a mixer or a pastry knife. I tried to get by with an actual fork, but forking chilled butter and flour until it's well-blended and then adding icewater until it forms a ball? Yeah, that was frustrating and unsuccessful, and I ended up having to add too much water. Plus, it's a chilled-dough recipe, and the apartment was really hot, so the dough got sticky and I over-worked it. The result was gross enough that I threw it out, but just good enough that I've kept the recipe to try again with better tools and better climate.

After cleaning up my kitchen mess (oh, all those almonds who had to die for that wasted almond paste filling!) I hopped a train for Brooklyn where Tom and I had dinner at Dom and Tori with Tom's friends. They're good people, though some are a bit heretical. (One proclaimed, "Happy Zombie Day!") Dinner was delicious ham with a fantastic glaze, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, asperagus and more. Then we watched Sopranos, which I'd never seen before. I don't like the show much (because I can't sympathize with the characters) but it's well-written so I can see why other people do like it.

For the next day and a half, Tom and I just blissfully hung out together and avoided mentioning the jobs we dreaded going back to. On the plus side, just two more days until the weekend! Only 54 days of school left!

Random Stuff

1- April 11, Tom and I will have been dating for six months. Is that a present-giving milestone? It probably is, but I have no idea what to give him. The last three presents I gave him (The Encyclopedia of Heavy Metal for his birthday, a Mets blanket/throw for Christmas and a capuccino/espresso maker for Valentine's Day) were all big hits. But now I'm at a loss. He doesn't like generic presents. Who does, really? Framed photo of us? Maybe. Heavy metal, the Mets, coffee, beer and good food are the four things he enjoys most. Should I give him beer? I could cook for him, but he's so much better at it than I am. I'm at a loss.

2- I haven't had a haircut in more than a year. I need a haircut. I'm starting to get some funky split ends. So then why haven't I done it? If you're a loyal reader, you recall the trauma that was my last haircut. One guy butchered it so badly the salon owner volunteered to fix it and gave me an awesome cut. I can't afford the salon owner, and I'm scared of meeting up with another butcher. Also, at most salons, the longer your hair is, the more they charge. The problem is, the longer I wait due to money-tightness, the more it will cost me to eventually get a cut. I'm going to have to bite the bullet soon.

3- I am so tired of having broken-out skin. Strangers used to stop me on the street to tell me I had skin like porcelain. Girls in high school proclaimed, "Your skin is so perfect. I hate you!" People compared it to peaches and cream or strawberries and milk. In Spain, a man said I had skin like "rosas y azucenas," which translates to lillies and roses. Another said I glowed like a woman painted by Botticelli, and Tom once said I looked like a woman in a Degas painting. Okay, I know that those are more skin compliments than most people receive in a lifetime. Maybe it's all balancing out now? All I know is I now have pimples and pale pink dots from past pimples bracketing my mouth. I've switched products. Nothing seems to help. I'm not sure I can afford a dermatologist for a cosmetic issue like this. Besides, it may be caused by the stress from my job, and I'm leaving this job. I just wonder: will the problem go away? Will the scars fade?