Hank

At times I battle the urge to speak things that should remain unmentioned.

This is probably a follow up of my previous post without me meaning to... but, I guess my life is more like a series of themes and literary devices. (Fitting, since I'm a European Studies major...)

I keep forgetting that I'm NOT allowed to just say "hey. I'm a little miffed that you're dating her, when you should be dating me."

This is so awkward. And I mean it in every sense of the word.

Truly.

Gotta love friends.... So. Anyway.

I'm so ... what's the word... Thankful that Thanksgiving was just barely.

... No school for 5 whole days.

Let me re-iterate:

I didn't have to watch my mouth for 5 whole days.

It's great to be home.

Also:

I made Thanksgiving.

made it.

created it.

manhandled the turkey.

Does anybody comprehend the feat I have just accomplished? NO? remember the days when I literally lived off cereal. Literally. and Figuratively?

Gah... those were the days....

but now that I've proven my self capable of culinary competence, I can no longer return to the care-free and responsibility-vacant, nomadic nutritional lifestyle that once dominated my decisions in meals.

My mom is convinced I shall one day return to the land of the aprons...

Also known as Christmas dinner.

Heaven Help me.

What's worse:?!:

I kinda liked it.

Why didn't I take a picture of that moment in the sink when I harassed the innards out of that turkey (whom I dubbed Hank.... "Hanksgiving." haw haw New Girl Joke)

So sweeeeeettttt.

ALL day slaving away!

I'm at a fork in the road between deciding that I'm being manipulated into the life of cooking or... if I'm just happy to bike down the path of it.

Whatever.

Peace yo. :)