Streamlined

It's one of my biggest pet peeves- when bloggers blog about how busy they are, even too busy to write an entry. But today I'm going to be my own worst enemy and do that very thing. My attitude this past week reminds me of the haste in which I took this picture of the escalator at the Seattle Public Library. I was in a hurry because I just wanted a ride. That's what we writers seem to forget sometimes - to stop observing and just enjoy the ride.



Rather than try to pull myself together and make sense of this whirl of events called 'last semester of college, potentially moving to another city, and stress of finding a job in an ill economy,' I plan to lay it all out there for you to draw your own conclusions. Here's the recap of my weekly ride:

Chopping onions at the restaurant. Being an intern at a major magazine. Hours spent fact-checking. Mincing garlic. Getting post-grad advice from editors. De-seeding squash for soup. Checking job-listings on Craigslist. A hearty, early-morning fried egg. A random Indian dance at the Dinkytowner. Writing papers. Brunch with friends. (We won't mention the buzzer, right girls?)Doing dishes. Gingersnaps. Sharing farm stories with chefs. Reading for classes. Making soup stock. The city bus 6 times a week. Striking up random conversation on the bus. Reading for fun. Working at the kitchen store. Strong coffee. Apartment hunting. Julia Child. My new scarf and boots. Interviewing a farmer for an article. A free cookie from a cute guy at Starbucks. Reading news articles my dad sends me. A post-homework glass of wine. Interviewing a chef for an advertisement. Going to bed at 2am. Switching work schedules. Quinoa and cabbage. Waking up at 7am. Learning to hand-code HTML. An overdue dinner-date with a dear friend at a French cafe. These events, like this gum in Seattle's Post-Alley, are beautiful to me in their messiness and random nature.



You get it.

If there's one thing keeping me sane during my last semester, it's the anticipation of a good meal at the end of the day and talking with those who make my heart warm. Thanks be to cabbage. And my mom.