puppies – Namaste Eats

I started this week so optimistic.

My coconut oil had resolidified for crying out loud!

Enough said.

No?

Okay, I’ll explain.

You see, coconut oil melts at 76 degrees fahrenheit. So naturally, on the drive to Ithaca, wrapped in a pencil skirt stuffed in a pan which had been wrapped in a sweatshirt and stuffed into a tupperware bin and placed in my trunk, it melted.

I stuck it in the fridge, it resolidified in a couple hours, all was good.

FALSE.

But by the time I was done with dinner at my great aunt’s house, it had melted again.

It stayed completely liquid for a week.

Which, admittedly, is functionally fine. I use it as a lotion because lotion normally has oodles of chemicals and comes in weirdly shaped plastic containers, whereas this is natural (but of course has a variety of other environmental implications and potentially ramifications depending on the brand, but we have to use something so…baby steps…and more on that shenanigans later *panics and feels like there is no way to save the planet ever* *considers moving into a cave and using nothing* *realizes I would die* *begins yoga*) AND it comes in a reusable glass container perfectly sized for carting around my lunch curry (not to be confused with my dinner curry).

BUT THIS MONDAY (Week 2 of Math Camp which this time was about statistical packing software and not calculus) it resolidified WITHOUT THE HELP OF A FRIDGE.

I was stoked.

Until Wednesday morning came around and it was as melted as a child’s ice cream cone (we all know they get in like two licks and the rest just melts all over them, don’t lie to me)

It’s like my own little weather system:

Melted: Wear loose fitting clothing, accept that you will be that awkward sweaty level all day where things stick to you (your clothes, chairs, unwanted people…oh wait, that’s a different problem), drink more water than anyone ever found necessary, DON’T USE THE OVEN.

Solid: Assume normal wardrobe, maybe use the stovetop to cook eggs, no need to stick your head in the freezer, you only need to shower once per day.

So naturally, when the coconut oil was solid, I went to yoga classes at the gym, wore cute loose dresses, and ate salad.

Which meant that when it was liquid I was craving eggs, roasted veggies, tea in large quantities (of the hot varie-tea, hehe), long runs, and only my fitted light gray clothes were clean.

What a sweaty, I mean sparkly, mess.

People keep telling me “Ithaca is Gorges,”

By people I mean bumper stickers and tshirts, no self-respecting human actually says that (except me in EVERY BLOG POST).

What they really mean is “It’s so beautiful here that we’re hoping you forget how hilly it is. Prepare for your calves and butt to hurt constantly and forget the time you weren’t sweaty 24/7.”

I ran my (extra) hilly route in this coconut-oil-melting-heat. Not the long slowly increasing slopes, nope, I opted for the series of steep, gut-clenching, breath-stealing hills that make you feel like you have a sword straight through your tummy but have to keep running faster in order to save some innocent cute thing of your choice.

Remember when I said I had a flair for the dramatic?

Verdict: Don’t do hills in the heat.

SPEAKING OF!

Since this is orientation week 2 of ? they keep putting on seminars, panels, and “social(ly awkward) functions” to help us get oriented.

What they’re actually trying to do is tell us to have our futures figured out ASAP while saying pseudo-comforting things like “Don’t worry, you have the whole semester to choose a thesis topic.”

YOU MEAN I ONLY HAVE UNTIL CHRISTMAS TO FIND AN ADVISOR, A TOPIC, AND A PROJECT UPON WHICH ALL OF MY FUTURE APPLICATIONS WILL BE JUDGED?!

I’ve had three revelations about my aspirations for a career in the past hour.

Let’s just assume they’re all wrong.

In an effort to comfort myself, I’ve been looking at some pictures of little Penny when she was SO TINY AND WRINKLY Ft. a mini Biruk who was SO IN LOVE with her and a mini himself, and a post Fo-Castle donut baking shift me (#throwbacktofirstminimumwagejob) when rolling one’s sleeves and tying t shirts with hair ties was “cool” (marginally acceptable for nerdy high schoolers).

LOOK AT HOW TINY THEY BOTH WERE! WHO LET THEM GROW UP?!

SHE WAS SO SMALL AND HAD THAT PUPPY SMELL THAT MAKES YOU WANT TO GOBBLE HER UP IN A LOVING AND NOT CREEPY WAY

I would apologize for all of the puppy pictures. But I know you’re loving them.

You’re welcome.

If you’re not happy squealing right now, you’re probably a psychopath incapable of real emotion.

So, now that I’m on a calmer plane of existence…back to planning my future.

In a moment of terror I felt like I had made the wrong decision. I’m not supposed to be here.

But then I remind myself that:

I voluntarily too AP Macro in my 2nd semester senior year of highschool.
I then MADE CUPCAKES with econ graphs and equations on them FOR FUNSIES.

So maybe I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

And as I write this, I can see my coconut oil beginning to resolidify.

My crazy rants may indicate otherwise, but I dare say that, somehow, I’ve begun to find my balance here (which is remarkable, because I am quite clumsy).