Sunday, January 08, 2006

A monologue for raisin toast.

So I just did this face recognition thing from Cornshake's blog at MyHeritage. I would JUST like to point out that, among many faces that came up from the picture I used, Miss SHAKIRA was among the better matches. So take that! I also got Vivien Leigh and Andie MacDowell in two separate shots. You people who think I look like Nicole Kidman: Well, you're out of luck.

Some thoughts on raisin toast: When I was in college, from sophmore year onward, I had access to a toaster (most of the time...sometimes it disappeared) in our little building kitchenette, which was conveniently right down the hall from me on the singles floor. Via this toaster, I indulged my fondness for raisin toast, the Sunmaid kind, which comes in a red bag.
Let me explain something to you...I had a stressful life in college. Lots of activities, lots of classes, lots of work, lots of drama. I hate it when my students today complain about once a semester having three papers due in one week, because I'm going to say that happened at least once a month to me. Suck it up.
Mostly, I did suck it up, but I'm not going to deny that I occasionally went quietly nuts, pacing the hallways (in a figure-eight pattern, not like, pacing other people's hallways), even despite hours of dance classes a week, to get rid of pent up energy and distress, bitching out my friends, and generally being a pain to everyone. Dr. Pepper was there to calm me down, but then there was also raisin toast.
No matter how upset I was, or how sad a state my stomach was in, I could always eat raisin toast. I don't know why, probably that combination of delicious, neutral starch with a little nip of fruit with every bite. I often ate it plain, which I can't do so much with bagels, and just snarfed it down. I sometimes had six pieces at one go, and if the toaster was gone, I made them in the oven on a piece of foil. I didn't mess around. I think I only once got sick of eating raisin toast, and the hiatus was short.
Now, I haven't had raisin toast in a while. As a grad student, it was a luxury I could ill afford, and while I had raisin french toast and whatnot at restaurants, and certainly my share of raisin bagels (which I also love, spread with butter), it's been a while since that red bag with its cheery little maid came into my house. I looked for her last time I shopped, and did not see her anywhere. Boo.
So, now, let me tell you about yesterday. I woke up late, pondered the day ahead, and decided that I would go to Michael's up in Perrysburg/Rossford. I have a number of crazy art projects going on (I know, I know...more projects?), and I wanted to look at frame stuff for some family pictures. So I drove up there listening to one of my friend Mike's mix CDs, Longing for Something Polish, and arrived in good time at the Shangri-La of craft stores.
I spent two hours in there. Or more. I bought so much stuff, for many projects, only three of which are actually in process right now. For instance, I got a grey barnwood frame for my family pictures, and an entire sheet of matting so I can cut my's that for DIY? This frame is special because my grandmother on that side of the family lives on a farm, with a barn. I also got stuff for a shadowbox of pictures of my Mom from Disneyworld, and stuff to experiment with for a wire frame/papier mache/decoupage/glazed moth project...both of which are coming along nicely.
So I buy all this, and am exhausted and ready to get some McDonald's and head back home to create. But there's a Giant Eagle nearby, and I need bread. Regular bread. I've never been to Giant Eagle. Giant Eagle knocked my socks off with its hugeness. I wandered around there for a half hour and actually got several things, including shampoo and antipasti goodies (which are the devil, but are SO darn good), and regular bread. But then...I did a double take, and mentally clapped my hands like a four-year-old. There was the red bag! Sunmaid has returned to my life.
Duh, I bought the raisin bread, and this morning on my way to church I had two hot, toasty slices, and it was the best cap to the best 24 hours I've had since Christmas Eve-Christmas. The end of last term was sort of nutty and emotional for me, and I have only recently gotten back into the groove of being creative and private, not spending a lot of time with others but enjoying my world, only to have many of my friends and family acquaintances experience horrors or sadness. My heart and prayers go out to them, even as I nest within my own renewed, fluffy warmth and comfort. The raisin toast became a celebration of that comfort, that adventure I'd had, and all that I've experienced recently, crumbs and all. Mmm.

The other thing of note is the only (glaring) mar on yesterday: Something very hard and very fast struck my windshield on the way home, and left a baby crack about a centimeter long in it, not all the way through, about 2/3, right in the upper middle. I've been hit with lots of stuff on the highway, especially when we were going out to Colorado, but this guy left some damage. Boo!

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