I don’t like working in groups. I loathe that section of my English class. Well, any class really. I’d much prefer to work by myself or be in a lecture style class where we could overachieve (or achieve at all) if we so desired by raising our hand to answer the question.

Thursday then, imagine my shock (and dismay) when we were (yet again) placed into groups to quickly come up with answers to a few questions (our task, should we choose to accept it, was to determine how a pastiche differed from a parody, what a pastiche was [according to Frances Jameson, who by the way teaches at Duke] and to think of an example). My group was obviously not thinking when they put me in charge of answering. Well actually we were kind of forced into answering before we were ready because our teacher was focusing her attention on us and everyone got quiet.

So there we are. All of us trying to kind of not exist for a moment in time because none of us want to answer and it went something like this:

Aussie Teacher: So, group 2, what is a pastiche?

At this point everyone kind of turns and looks at me - my group included.

Me: Me? Are you sure? *looks at smart girl* don’t you want to answer? Ok, me. Sure. I can do this. A pastiche is a parody, but its not funny.

AT: *laugh* That’s not what he[Frances Jameson] said! It’s like a parody, but it’s not critical.

Me: Same diff.

AT: And an example?

Me: Angela’s Ashes?

AT: What? *snickers*

And it was at this point that my face turned the color of a fire hydrant. This is the type of situation I dread most in speaking in class. I think its enough that I’m the only one that knows that I have no clue what the hell is going on. Everyone else (who are much younger and far more well read) don’t need to know that I’m the English program’s equlivant of Elle Woods.

I gathered what courage I had and explained that Tuesday she had said that books like Angela’s Ashes are published every year - Every year there is a book published about - fill in some sort of genre (in this case Irish Life) - and after a certain point we stop responding to them due to over exposure and they become a parody (or in this case, a pastiche) of what we think [fill in topic] is really about. The key here is that they’re not being critical of the subject matter.

And also, they’re not funny.

What was really awesome was she thought about it a moment, teased the idea a bit in Australian (she may have been speaking english but it was lost to me) and then agreed with me. I got praise and then we moved on to the last group.

It was nice feeling like I knew what I was talking about and being able to present an idea in class that was taken seriously. Also, it was fun being witty. I’m good at that.

I’ve been quiet lately. Especially last week. I pretty much took a break from life. We had been on the go and entertaining and were busy with being entertained for a few weeks and I just needed to put the breaks on and stop. And that’s exactly what I did.

I love my friends dearly and I enjoy seeing them and spending time with them but somtimes you just need to recharge your own internal battery ya know? I find that it’s harder to do when the weather is gross and cold.

We had gotten rid of our snow and the weather was warm for a few days and it all came back. And brought ice. But today the weather is warming back up for a few days and the sun is shining and hopefully everything will melt again and it will smell like spring.

Thats one of my favorite smells. When everything is wet and smells of coolness and moist earth. You can practically smell the life leaking out of everything straining to wake up from a long winter nap.

Now that I’m feeling recharged again, here are some pictures of how I entertained myself yesterday after work while I waited for Jason to pick me up from work:

Sidewalk with my apparent hoof leg shadow.

Parking lot with stretchy shadows.

I wish I were this tall. And no, that’s not a growth, I was holding a backpack, a sweatshirt and an extra bag full of clothing while I tried to wrestle with my phone to take a picture.

Naked trees with Beaver Stadium in the background.

Last night I wanted to make more juice. I was really excited because I was going to juice enough to have some left over for the morning and I’d be drinking something good for me instead of having a soda. Before we get started with today’s tale let it be known that I did, indeed, have a soda last night.

We went to the grocery store directly after work and as we walked into Wegman’s my senses were assulted with the produce section and I eyed all the pretty vegetables and fruits and thought about what I’d like to juice. I really really enjoyed the carrot apple ginger juice, but I had so many other ingredients that I wanted to try something else. I wasn’t yet ready to bust out the pineapple and spinach (that’ll be a weekend thing since pineapples and I don’t get along too well in the cutting up department) so I opted for the cucumbers I’d purchased. What to go with them? Apple, I decided (since I had some) but that seemed kind of boring. Then it hit me. Mint. They make cucumber mint lotions and candles right? How awesome would some refreshing and cool cucumber mint juice be? Then I got another great idea. Why not add some lime to give it a little zip?

I could barely contain myself as I got home and cleaned the kitchen to prepare the space for the juice making.  And then I juiced, and unfortunately I did not take any pictures of the end product but please, let me assure you, it was green. And not a pretty green. It was the kind of green that you see in diapers.

And lets take a minute and talk about the taste. While each taste on it’s own would probably be awesome.. there was just something… off. Maybe it was too much mint. Maybe it was too much cucumber. Maybe (according to Jason) it was too much lime. All I know is that when all was said and done, it was undrinkable. I had a glass of it.. but the rest unfortunately went by the wayside. I couldn’t stomache drinking any more of it. Needless to say, it was a disappointing result.

The experiment however, was awesome. This is how you learn things I suppose. Trial and error. I’m still excited to try the pineapple and spinach, but I definately think that from now on I’ll be eating my cucumbers in solid form rather than liquid. And there will be no mint. Ever.

Last week was kind of rough. You’ll notice that I didn’t write any posts at all. Well, that’s not really true. I wrote pretty much everyday but somehow it all just sounded wrong. And whiney. And it was possibly angry as well. Who wants to read that? I didn’t even feel like proof reading it so that told me that it was probably best not to post it. It felt good getting it down on paper so to speak, but I opted not to bore everyone with it. Why would I bore you with ranting when I can bore you with the adventures of juice instead? I mean, come on!

I can really only say two words. Wow! (The exclaimation counts as a word). It was THAT freaking awesome. You see, over the holidays (like how I snuck us back 2 months? I’m sneaky!) while watching trashy daytime TV with the fam (Christina’s Court anyone? Judge Alex??) if we saw it once, we saw it 500 times. Jack LaLane was out there with his wife Elaine (that cracks my shit up. Elaine LaLane.. you know she did that on purpose) and some skeptical but hyper lady peddling the most awesome juicer on Earth. Even Shar Jackson thinks that it’s off the hook. And you know what happened? I was sucked in. Completely. I wanted to not only pick up the phone and call now, but I wanted to juice. I wanted to drop an entire apple down the juice slot, because I could.

Somehow I managed to resist. I’m not sure how it happened. Maybe it was laziness. Or maybe it was the aversion I have to buying from infomercials that seem far too good to be true.

Last month sometime (I’m catching us up to present, give me a minute here) Jason began to look at juicers because if I mentioned it once, I probably mentioned it half a dozen times per hour. He found one that he deemed to be superior to the best juicer on earth (the Lalane one) made by a company called Breville. It was superior in power (and a wee tad bit more expensive) and the reviews on Amazon either loved it or wanted to chuck it in front of a speeding train. I opted not to buy it at that time, but simply pine for it. What if I didn’t like it? What if it was a pita to clean? What if I used it for a week and then it was moved to some far corner on the outer rim and forgotten and then sold at a yard sale for a quarter just so it wasn’t taking up cabinet space anymore?

Last week (see? It wasn’t so bad) I was ranting and possibly raving to a coworker of mine who, it turns out, owns one of these fancy pants juicers. She (the poor misguided soul that she is) entrusted this beautiful piece of machinery to borrow so that I too could see the wonders of the juice.

Aside from the clean up (which is kind of annoying. I won’t lie. The juicing is awesome but cleaning? I could do without that) it was an amazing experience. I made carrot apple ginger juice. Jason said I used too much ginger, but I really liked the amount that I put in. It was noticeable. It proclaimed its presence. It stood proudly and said “I am.” I used about half a bag of organic carrots, four macintosh apples, four granny smith apples and about two inches of ginger root. SO good.

Where everything was wrong last week, everything is certainly getting off to a great start this week. Yesterday after returning home from lunch at my mother’s house I worked out. Today, I am so sore. My arms are whimpering. While it sucks being this sore it’s amazing. I know the workout worked. It’s a great start. And I am really looking forward to doing it again tonight.

I feel energized and motivated. Maybe it’s cabin fever. Maybe it’s the juice. Maybe it was too much ginger. Who knows!