Mmmmmm pot pies

Let me tell you, folks - Today was a bad day. I found out that one of the people who I desperately want to be my orals advisor may be leaving the university for good. Oh man does that suck - this means that all of my carefully-laid networking plans are all for shit and I have to start over from scratch looking for an advisor. As if this was not annoying enough, I spent the rest of the afternoon avoiding certain people, thinking about my papers and being ADVISED. This has got to be one of the most painful painless processes possible. That is: I hate to go to advising because I feel as though I should have some reason for taking a class other than "it looks easy, and I'm tired", and so I have to pretend to be chipper and perky regarding my next 10 bleak weeks (trust me, if you had my class options to choose from, you would agree on my assessment of the situation) or alternately, I can be forthright about my not wanting to do any work and have my advisor think that I'm insane. She is actually quite nice, and the process itself is not painful in any way - it's just the anticipation of the advising that does me in (much like a flu-shot). So sitting on the floor outside of her office for 20 min was probably the most painful waiting possible leading up to the least painful discussion and a moderately irritating process of getting forms signed. This makes no sense whatsoever, please ignore all of what I have just said.

Bleah.

And - as if this was not annoying enough, seminar was a parade of petrified people pontificating on the perilous problems of personal taste, Pope, and the Picturesque (who knew?). So here I am sitting in my comfy chair trying to clean up my paper such that I won't be ashamed to show it to Anne tomorrow and eating a pot pie.

Pot pies are god's gift to college students. You can forget about those little white worms of pasta known as ramen and the ubiquitous pop-tart, pot pies are where it's at. They are little stews of goodness baked into a pastry shell 5 for $3. They store forever, they take mere minutes to cook, and PRESTO, comfort food in its own dish! (This rant brought to you by Lakeshore Drive - known more lovingly as "asphalt of pain", "goddamn slow" and "full of cops and taxis" - While driving home after my not so nice day and fighting traffic, I determined that I would head straight for my local Jewel, pick up some pot-pies, Mt. Dew, and Milk [for pina-coladas] - this has taken me from downright grumpy to oddly perky in 2 hours flat)

Thus, my menu for the evening (with my apologies to dietitians and calories everywhere):

1st course: Grandma's potato salad - Who's grandma? I do not know - apparently there is some grandma out there who does nothing but sit around and make potato salad for Jewel. I mean, it's kinda freaky when you think about it - would you eat a "meat" sandwich? Then why potato salad made by some ubiquitous "Grandma" figure that is probably a surly 20 year old in a hair-net?

2nd course: cookies - created by the goddess of deliciousness, my sister.

3rd course: Pot Pie (of course) - a turkey and mushroom gourmet pot pie. Can anything that comes in a cardboard box with its own microwave instructions be legitimately be called gourmet?

Beverage: Mt. Dew - proud sponsor of dislocated shoulders, road rash, and hyper-extended knees everywhere.