And the Beet(le) goes on

And then nobody wanted to talk about anything; and so then nobody talked about anything. And the town became one of sand, and a beetle crawled over it, leaving little footprints in them all.

Tee hee hee.

I should probably stop feeling so good about my next thought experiment; this is a sure sign that it will melt in the sun and ker-ploosh into the ocean. I've been drifting away from parasites; I'm not sure that my last TE will have anything to do with parasites, aside from perhaps borrowing the words of some people in the class of the same name or spawning off questions I would not have been asked if I had not taken it. But these quotes and questions have nothing directly related to parasites.
But isn't that ok? This class fulfilled it's purpose--it facilitated a connection; transmission.

Parasites has nothing to do with sweet potato curry; but I would not have had this happy (tasty) moment if this class and it's subject were not there to pass things along, to keep my social blood from clotting up.

If even it isn't seen, the parasite is there, as evidenced by the movement it causes. No poking, pinching, freaking out necessary; there is movement. It is there. Gtfoverit.
I am eating chunks of sweet potato and regular-type potato; it is there.
I am writing about art, and making it; this has nothing to do with parasites. But it doesn't matter--it is there. Or it has been. Something of sorts.

I am saying this because I need to convince myself; because I really am trying to go by what I wrote on my plurk profile, and give less of a fuck about certain things, and more of a fuck about certain other things.
If this were any other class, I would be nervous about what I plan to turn in. But I find I cannot be--not as much as I should be, at least. And it was the same with my last thought experiment. I felt I said very few things when I should have been pulling handfuls of academic rubies out of my pockets. I would have liked to have rubies to give; there is something delicious and sharp about having rubies to give, something beautiful, whole, and cut.
But I brought bread. No, that's a lie--I don't know how to make bread. I can't cook worth shit. But I have made:
That's right, bitches--strawberry daifuku'z, red bean and all. Ok, mine never looked nearly this pretty, and some of them (half of them) split open and leaked. But they tasted amazing, no matter how awful (pretty awful) they looked. I learned how to make them for the Japanese food presentation part of my Japanese 101 class, and I skipped a History class so I would have time to make them fresh. And my hands were red and hurt by the end of it, because it's hard to work with hot dough. And the kitchen was a mess. And I was almost late to class. And they really did look quite miserable. But my class loved it, and they loved that I'd made them. And after a nervous presentation on an empty stomach, I couldn't have been happier.

Rubies are all well and good to look at, but they do not taste very good.
I don't think my final thought experiment will look very good. I didn't even get the color right--it's brighter than it should be. I should have left the ochre out. Always leave the ochre out. But even still, I think it will taste better than eight pages of writing; it will be worth less, I feel. But it will taste better. And I have become quite fond of food lately.

So here's a list of things I want to learn how to cook once my roommate and I get an apartment (and cat):

Sweet potato curry (gonna need Ace's help on this one)

I've absolutely fallen in love with the couscous stuffed bell peppers they serve in the dining halls. I don't know why. I'm not terribly fond of bell peppers.

Fuck yeah kimchi pancakes.

'Nuff said.

In the process of figuring out how to get sweet rice dough to not be a betch, I tried my hand at these. The dough ended up being too soft, too much, and I don't think I cooked them enough. And even still, the sauce made them taste good. So I'd like to actually make these someday.

I < 3 rice pudding. The interwebs tells me I can make it with my rice cooker, which sounds enticingly (and perhaps deceptively) simple.




I've heard some horror stories of this cake not turning out right, but I don't know where to get them up here, so I might as well try to make one. Also, the first time I had one, I didn't realize they put paper on the bottom. So I ate the paper. And my mum and sister lol'd at me for a good five minutes. Not cool.





This will be my last legit, semi-class related post. Everything afterward will be personal, or related to future classes, or, this summer, related to the apartment-getting experience (Chelsea's idea).

So...good eatinz to you all, I hope.