tonight, the sky is underneath us

30.9.08

100-mile laurier week

where we eat as much fresh ontario produce. i have a butternut squash sitting on my windowsill, and I wanted to ask the Market people, "doest any of thee knowest how to cleavest yon squash?" but no, that is a question to ask Laurier Medieval Student's society... or the lecture this friday on Medieval cuisine. 
Anyways, I am mostly cheating, because I still am eating meat from ... probably a few thousand miles away, but I can waste Hanson's food! But I try to get local produce whenever it's in season. See? aren't I perfect? Hm.
I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight because tomorrow morning I get to try my organic cereal mix which has about 7 grains. 7 different grains. I was not hyperbolizing.
I think I like a violist but I don't. I've not liked lots of people here. 
And this cereal will be divine, I have decided, even though it smells and tastes like dirt.
"Dirt? Really?? Must be organic!"

but i definitely feel lost in this city, despite all the people i know, and all the things there are to do. there are too many things.

5 comments:

Janie Kamenar said...

Jenn do you know how I miss you?

I hate that you feel lost and I'm not there. I may have trouble
living in a different country from you one day. I am going to have to rethink that.

It will be like this:
http://xkcd.com/415/

Janie Kamenar said...

Except obviously I will permit myself to be closer than 500 yards from you.

Tala Azar said...

http://www.myspace.com/kronosquartet

listen to "flugufrelsarinn"

Janie Kamenar said...

also, what kind of a name is '100-mile laurier week' for a week when you devour local produce? What KIND?

Liza Cain said...

a name invented by down-to-earth music students. they weren't hippies or it would have been "Drink the Earth".
What would YOU have dubbed it? Maybe, Dirt Week? (so that's me)
Yay Kronos. My violin teacher has their poster on the wall of his studio, as well as a ton of others. Unfortunately, myspace doesn't work on the internet here. the music never loads. show me some day when i'm there.

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the only strand of communication between brother, sister, companion, lover, hater, observer is a two line telegram.

yellow paper