And I Can Cook, Too

Saturday, March 31, 2007

Saturday, March 31, 2007

Our department head, Barbara, is hosting cocktail hour at her house tomorrow, and she has clearly stated that no-one is expected to bring a thing. Naturally we gastronomy students are tripping all over ourselves in an effort to impress without looking like we made any effort whatsoever. I opted for the KISS approach. I decided that if the ahi is good, the poke will be too, and I was off to the market. The ahi was delicious. I am going to impress without making any effort whatsoever.

Kristin's Poke

1 Lb. Sashimi grade Ahi (yellow fin tuna), cut into bite size pieces
3 Tbsp. Shoyu (soy sauce)
3 Tbsp. Sesame Oil
5 Drops Chili Oil
1 Tsp. Fresh Ginger, grated (nope, you can't use dried) (NO!)(I don't care!)
3 Green Onion, sliced
1 Tbsp. Sesame Seeds, toasted in a dry pan over low heat until golden brown.

Mix all the ingredients except the ahi. Taste, and adjust everything. Different brands of shoyu, sesame oil, and chili oil have differing strengths and flavors, so play with it until you think it tastes good. Add the ahi and mix well. Allow to sit for at least 1/2 hour for the flavors to blend. Eat raw. Deeelicious.
Friday, March 30, 2007


For reasons that should be obvious to the casual observer, it's been a tough week. So tough, in fact, that when I got stood up by the students who were supposed to meet me for drinks/pupus and then discovered that the place we were to meet had lost its liquor licence anyway, I took myself to the casino. Although technically I was spending another night alone, at least I was off the streets. Hey, I only lost $14.00. Much better than the old guy sitting next to me who told me that he could have hit the royal flush and still not made up his losses. Ok, I'll tell you the truth. I was down almost $60 before I hit a couple of 4 of a kinds almost in a row. When I realized that I'd recouped all but $14 of my losses, I said to the old guy sitting next to me, "The intelligent girl would get up and walk away right now." Which is exactly what I did. My incredible restraint cheered me right up. God (as you do or do not believe him or her to exist) (or not) bless the Adelaide Central Rail Station (and Casino).
Thursday, March 29, 2007

1) A food event is an occasion when food is eaten.
2) A structured event is a social occasion organized by rules concerning time, place, and sequence of action.
3) Food eaten as a part of a structured event is a meal.
4) A snack is an unstructured food event without any rules of combination and sequence.

The sociability of eating, the fact that a meal is shared with other people, is often considered as a necessary feature of meal definition.
(Johana Makela)

After lecture, a group of us decided to structure an occasion during which we would eat food. We agreed that at 12 o'clock we would meet at the Adelaide club, order our food, and when it arrived, eat our meal. I got held up at the library, and just as I was seated everyone else remembered other things to do and jumped up and left.

Snack time.

Monday, March 26, 2007

Monday, March 26, 2007

The Actor's Nightmare

I was fully prepared to go to my first improv rehearsal at 5:30 this evening. I haven't done improv in years, but I watch it often and figure it's a lot like riding a bike, another talent I'd recently re-discovered. I figured this rehearsal would be no problem.

Surprise! It's not a rehearsal! It's a show!

My teammates were as prepared as I was. Phil is a stand-up comedian who was doing the show "just for kicks." Hannah had been randomly chosen from the audience a few nights before to participate in a game, and had done so well they'd invited her to perform. But hey, we figured, how bad can it be? We had no chance of winning - Australia's legendary improv duo "Erik and Derek", otherwise known as "The Canadians" (no they don't know Kim those idiots but I digress) were playing, and they had never lost a game. The other three teams were just along for the ride.

We started with Slide Show, and as my teammates posed for the slides, I told the story of doing competition calisthenics at the parasol collectors convention while on vacation in the Antarctic. Next, we conveyed the story of the divorced dog and cat trapped together on a nuclear sub through Interpretive Dance.

At intermission, we were in the lead.

We started act two with Emotional Roller Coaster. My emotion was sexual frustration and my location was a laundromat. I had it in the bag. Our last game was Papers. My teammates quickly established mother and son cooking in the kitchen, and as I struggled over who would be my lover I drew the line "too many cooks spoil the broth." It was that good. The game ended, the points were tallied, and the winner was......

Erik and Derek. BUT, only by 1 point. We left the other two teams in the dust.

Okay, so, newspaper, radio, stage...

Saturday, March 24, 2007

March 25, 2007

Humoral Medicine of the 14th through 17th centuries and how it impacted the cuisine of the eras including seasoning.

Comedy, yes. Bruce, no.
March 24, 2007

Oh Fuck Me

I'm putting on too much makeup and going into the city. Maybe I'll find some comedy. Or someone called Bruce.
March 24, 2007


That was without a doubt the worst burger I've had in my life. Adding to my misery, I couldn't help but overhear the two very loud men sitting next to me.

Man #1: "Where's Pete?"
Man #2: "At his fuckin' mums."
Man #1: "Mums?"
Man #2: "Yeah, moved in. Getting divorced."
Man #1: "Divorced? Didn't see that coming."
Man #2: "Yeah. A bloke needs a good wife, not one like her."
Man #1: "Yeah, she was trouble."
Man #2: "Well, it happens. Too bad though. Nice wedding."
Man #1: "Wouldn't know. Wasn't invited."

When a limo pulled up to the pier and the bridal party climbed out to commence their wedding, I lost my appetite altogether.

Humoral medicine of the 14th through 17th centuries and how it impacted the cuisine of the eras including seasoning.

Friday, March 23, 2007

March 24, 2007


Screw this paper. I'm going to Larg's Pier Hotel and taking myself out to lunch.
March 24, 2007


The wind was so strong on the beach that it was like being in a sandstorm. It was so bad that they took down the kites from the annual kite festival being held on the next pier down. I'm going to write about humoral medicine of the 14th to 17th centuries and how it impacted the cuisine of the eras including seasoning.
Saturday, March 24, 2007

And That's That

I got an email this morning informing me that my divorce finally final. A brief correspondence with my ex-husband caused me to re-think my plans to spend the day writing about humoral medicine of the 14th to 17th centuries and how it impacted the cuisine of the eras including seasoning. I'm getting a dog and going to the beach.
Thursday, March 22, 2007

During a lecture on culinary hybridization, I learned the horrible truth: Chicken Tikka Masala is not really Indian food. It's English. I'm devastated.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007


The class took a day trip up the Barossa Valley, home to Jacob's Creek (completely dry and always has been) and numerous other wineries. During a lecture on valley history, we were told up the up-coming Tanunda Town Day, which will feature regional foodstuffs, a parade, barrel racing, and the Vintage Festival Grape Treading Championship.

I'm already signed up.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Tuesday, March 21, 2007

Domesticated Fire Goddess

“Cooking is one of the distinguishing features of the human species. In almost all societies, domestication of fire is what sets us apart.” (Murcott, 1995).

After lecture my friend Joanne and I hit the Australia Pub for a couple of glasses of wine. We talked about aging, starting over, weight, money, and men. Four hours later I announced that Murcott’s theory was wrong. “Well” Joanne asked me, “what do you think distinguishes us from other animals?”

I think it’s our very unique ability to get the cork out of the bottle.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Monday, March 19, 2007

I got my work permit. With my student visa I can now work up to 20 hours per week. I've got a contact at the Taste of Australia Food Festival, and I'm going in for the kill...

Friday, March 16, 2007

Saturday, March 17, 2006

You Should Have What I'm Having

I have just consumed what was undoubtedly the very best fish and chips the good lord (as you do or don't believe him or her to exist) (or not) has deemed to bestow upon me. The dog and I were on the beach, and we passed the Larg's Bay Snack Kiosk, something we Americans would call the snack bar. As I walked by the door, I got a whiff of the best fry smell I've ever whiffed. Cashless and pretending that I'm trying to eat right, I walked right on by and straight home. Once home, however, I couldn't get the smell out of my mind. It haunted me. Still pretending that I was going to make a healthy dinner, I checked out the contents of my fridge. Two minutes later I was on the bike and back at the beach. Under the advisement of the very charming snack shop girl, I ordered a small butterfish and chips dinner with salt. As I peddled home, the aroma taunted me from the dinner box nestled in my bike basket. Home, I threw the fish and chips in a warm oven to hold them while I quickly washed my day off in the shower. Once in my pj's, I put my dinner back in its box and curled up on the couch. I took my first bite. A split second later I moaned with delight as my teeth crunched through the delicate tempura-like batter and encountered fresh, sweet, creamy butterfish that somehow managed to be light, and, well, buttery, at the same time. The finishing salt worked its magic and created a perfect balance of flavors. I then tried the chips. I was not disappointed. They also had the perfect crunch followed by fresh flavor, and tasted like they'd been the beneficiary of virgin oil. My dinner was amazing. I may have to go touch myself.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Food and Whine

My class met at Adelaide’s National Wine Centre Museum for a tour and lecture about the wines of Australia. The museum featured, amongst other things, an inner-active computerized wine making game that allowed you to test your skills and knowledge. The game went like this:

1) Pick you grape: Shiraz, Cabernet, Riesling, Chardonnay


2) Pick the Region: Barossa Valley, Coonawara, or Yarra Valley

Barossa Valley

3) Picking Style: By Hand, By Machine by Day, By Machine by Night

By Machine by Day

4) How Will You Hold the Grapes: Chilled, Heated, or Room Temp

Room Temperature

5) To Press or Crush the Grapes: Send them Straight to Fermentation with Skins, Leave the Skins on for a Few Hours, Remove, then Crush, or Press Immediately

Send Straight to Fermentation

6) Add Yeast: To Aid Fermentation and Make Bubble, to Make the Wine Rise, or to Convert the Sugar into Alcohol

To Convert the Sugar into Alcohol

7) Fermentation Temperature: 22-27 Degrees C, or 12-18 Degrees C

22-27 degrees C

8) Fermentation Time: 7-10 Days, or 10-13 Days

7-10 Days

9) For Malolactic Fermentation: Add Bacteria, Add Sulfur, or Neither

Add bacteria

10) Mature Wine In: Stainless Steel, Oak Barrels, or Both

Oak Barrels

11) While Stabilizing You: Add a Rich Color, Remove Unwanted Crystals, or Leave It Alone

Leave It Alone

The computer program then tasted my wine, and delivered the following verdict:


Sigh. I guess I’ll stick with chicken.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007

The Honor’s All Mine

Carol and Louise returned the favor of dinner, and over a meal that I have been ordered not to disclose (it was delicious by that way but that’s all I’m saying) they informed me that I was but one step away the title of Honorary Lesbian. The step was proving that I am not afraid of a little dirt, grime, and sweat. I described to them in great detail the realities of working in an industrial kitchen. When I got to the part about being covered in animal blood, they conceded. It’s official; I’m in the club. I then described to them in great detail the wonder that is my friend Jessie. When I got to the part about the tool belt I was immediately and severely chastised for not mentioning her earlier.

Hey, only fool shows their ace on the first bet.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Times, They Are a Changing

Carol and Louise had completed their overland trek on Tasmania, and were coming home to spend a couple of days getting ready for their camping trip up the coast. I convinced them to let me cook them dinner, and as we enjoyed roast chicken stuffed with apples, onions, dates, and pancetta, and Belgian endive with bleu cheese and homemade breadcrumbs, we caught up. They’d successfully completed a challenging six-day hike in the wild, reunited with old friends, and decided to buy a house in Tasmania. I’d re-learned to ride a bicycle, been in the paper, and gotten myself on the radio. They were planning to take the rest of their vacation, pack up their Larg’s Bay house, ship everything to Tasmania, and move on. I was planning to complete my master’s degree, get over my marriage, figure out what to do with the next forty years, and move on.

We’d better get busy.

Roast Chicken with Apples, Onions, and Date

1 Whole Chicken, innards removed
½ C. Your favorite pate
2 Granny Smith Apples, small diced
1 Sweet Onion, small diced
4 Cloves Garlic, minced
¼ C. Dates, small diced
1/8 C. Combination slivered almonds and pine nuts, or whatever nuts you have on hand or just happen to like best, lightly toasted
1 Oz, Hot Pancetta, or whatever salty cured meat you like
1 Tsp. Dried Sage
6 Slices Bread, preferably stale, really preferably whole grain or at least whole
wheat, diced into ½ inch cubes
1 C. White wine (absolutely under no circumstances should you use an American Chardonnay, they suck
1 Airplane bottle brandy
2 Tbsp. Butter
1 Tbsp. Sugar
1 Tbsp. Oil of your choosing, or use butter or use cooking spray
To Taste Salt & Pepper

Pre-heat the oven to 375 degrees. Allow the pate to come to room temperature.

Place a large pan over medium heat. Add the pancetta, and render the fat. Remove the meat as it is just becoming crisp. Add the Tbsp. of oil, or coat the pan with the cooking spray. Add the onions and apples, and sauté until the onions are just becoming translucent, about 10 minutes. Add the sage and dates, and sauté two minutes more; add the garlic, and sauté one minute more. Add the wine, and allow to reduce by 3/4th. Add the pancetta and the bread, and gently toss until everything is moist and blended. Taste, and add salt and pepper if desired.

While your stuffing is cooking, place the chicken in a roasting pan. Using a sharp knife, make one small slit through the skin over each of the breasts and each of the legs. Using a dull knife, like a dinner knife, pry the chicken skin away from the mean, taking care not to further cut the skin. Stir the pate until it is a soft, mushy consistency. Using a spoon, small spatula, dull knife, fingers, or any other method that works for you, insert the pate into the slits in the chicken skin massaging the skin to work the pate over the meat. Continue this all over the chicken until you’ve used all the pate. If you find that you can’t get it all in, rub the leftovers over the top of the skin. Stuff the cavity of the bird with as much stuffing as you can fit, and tie the legs together with string. Place in the oven and cook for at least an hour, or until the breast meat temperature reaches 165 degrees. While the chicken is cooking, melt the butter in a saucepan and add the brandy and sugar. Allow to bubble for about 10 minutes. Baste the chicken with the brandy butter every fifteen minutes or so, being sure to use it all.

Once you’ve removed the chicken from the over, allow it to sit for 10 minutes. Spoon the stuffing into a bowl, carve the bird, completely change your life, and enjoy!
Sunday, March 11, 2007


He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not.

There are a lot of flowers in Australia. I could play this for years.
Saturday, March 10, 2007

To Market To Market

I had about 15 hours of schoolwork on my plate, (Analyze Allison James’ view of the role of confectionery in England like I care but I digress) when I suddenly realized I wanted something edible on my plate. I checked the clock and realized I had just enough time to catch the train into the city and hit the Central Market before it closed for the day. Not so eager to spend yet another weekend entirely alone, I called one of my classmates and invited her to join me. An hour later we met at the market. After picking up olive oil, persimmons, fresh dates, chicken, and other fresh, organics yummies, we decide that pizza and beer was the perfect way to spend the rest of the afternoon. We found a pizza dive a few blocks away from the market, grabbled an outdoor table, and proceeded to enjoy the best pizza I’ve had west of Chicago. Or east of New York. Or south of DC. North doesn’t come in to play here at all. Several hours later, I remembered I needed to catch the train back home. A quick check of the schedule revealed that I had forty minutes to wait. “No problem” said my classmate, “let’s just go to the Adelaide Central Rail Station (and Casino), grab another beer, and wait for your train. We boxed up our leftovers, and were off. When we tried to enter the Adelaide Central Rail Station (and Casino), however, the doorman cleverly spied the pizza box under my classmates arm. “Excuse me, miss” he said, “is that a pizza?” “Yes” she responded. “I’m so sorry” he went on, “we don’t allow people to bring in food.” As they discussed the fate of the leftover pizza, I pondered the fact that he had not asked about the contents of my bag. He wouldn’t allow two slices of pizza to pass the doors, but bacon wrapped filet mignon, a whole oven roaster, two heads of Belgian endive, blood oranges, pancetta, dried figs, and persimmons were fine. Huh. At last accepting that we were turned away, my classmate and I managed to smuggle our leftover pizza into the bar across the street. Where I managed to miss two more trains.

Sunday, March 11, 2007

Friday, March 9, 2007


Le Cordon Bleu’s commencement ceremony actually takes place at the commencement of the course, unlike American schools where the commencement ceremony congratulates students for completing a course. Needless to say we gastronomy students felt smug and elitist compared to the culinary arts and hospitality students also in attendance. After a brief ceremony, we were free to mingle as waiters poured wine and passed pupu’s around the banquet. We sipped our wine, slurped oysters, and crunched fried scallops, all the while getting our pictures taken by the various papers in attendance. Ahh, the good life.
Thursday, March 8, 2007

Bodhisattva, Won't You Take Me By the Hand

Today, class featured a Buddhist nun with a lecture on how Buddhist tradition affects food choices and eating habits. The nun, regally dressed in traditional Buddhist robes, began by explaining the five main practices of Buddhism:

Abstaining from causing harm to other living creatures.
Abstaining from taking that which has not been freely given.
Abstaining from deception and use of false words.
Abstaining from sensual misconduct.
Abstaining from using substances that could cloud consciousness and judgment.

She went on to explain that the concept of karma is widely misunderstood. Karma is an action that causes an equal and opposite reaction.

While I was pondering the laws of motion, the nun explained that suffering is caused by our own action, that everything we eat and wear causes suffering, and that the rules of Buddhism were established for the purpose of maximizing health and protection for the Buddhist while being the least disruptive as possible to others. At this moment, a cell phone rang. We LCB students are under strict advisement to keep our phones off during class, and we nervously glanced around to see where this particular disruption was coming from. We needn’t have worried. It was the nuns phone. After rummaging in her bag, she produced the phone, checked the number to see who was calling, muttered something about leaving a message, and tossed the phone back into her bag. Without turning it off.

Her attention back to the class, she talked about her decision to become a vegetarian. Not all Buddhists are vegetarian, she informed us. But when she took her vows as a nun, she decided that she would follow at eating pattern that would abstain from harming another living creature. She would occasionally eat eggs, despite the fact that they are potentially baby animals, she told us, but only eggs offered to her by her neighbor, whose chickens have never seen the inside of a cage. “Do they ever lay eggs in your yard?” a classmate asked. “They don’t come to my yard” she replied, “there’s a fence." She then recalled the time when another neighbor gave her the offering of fresh spinach grown in their garden. As any good Buddhist would, the nun gratefully accepted the offer. After taking the spinach inside, however, she noticed that it was covered with living creatures in the form of slugs. Reluctant to cause harm to the slugs by washing them off, she instead offered the spinach to a non-Buddhist would not mind causing harm to the slugs by washing them off. “So you didn’t accept the offer?” someone asked. “Oh, no” she replied, “I accepted it, but I didn’t EAT it.” Ohhh. Our instructor then asked why she didn’t simply pick the slugs off and put them outside. “I didn’t want them on my flowers” she said, having the decency to blush ever so slightly. I had the decency to focus my gaze on her obviously genuine leather strappy sandals.

Avoiding my gaze, the nun went on to discuss the merits of begging, and the peace and enlightenment that comes with offering others the opportunity to be generous. When asked about her begging ritual, however, she was forced to admit that she has a full time job as a clinical psychologist, and that her begging is more ceremonial than for actual sustenance.

She was asked if she walked everywhere or took public transportation. She replied that she owned a car. When it was pointed out that driving a car causes harm to other living creatures, she replied that it was ok, because she thanked the creatures that she harmed by driving a car every time she drove the car, much as the thanked the deer who offered the leather for her sandals every time she wore her sandals. She explained that offering others the opportunity to sacrifice was a sacred gift. She then gave us her favorite recipe for microwaved rice that she eats in the evening, outside of Buddha mandated appropriate eating times and her lecture was done. Did we have any questions?

From the back of the room a hand went up. “So, basically, Buddhist philosophy is that any action is ok as long as you thank whatever it harms?”

“Yes” she responded, “the gift of ability to sacrifice leads to true enlightenment.”

I’m converting.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Wednesday, March 7, 2007

I would like to thank my sister Beth for being the only person who has utilized their knowledge of the following SHOCKINGLY EXPENSIVE post office box address:

Kristin Van Bodegraven
P.O. Box 3431
Rundle Mall
Adelaide, South Australia, Australia, 5000

Thank you Beth.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007

"Food ideology is the sum of the attitudes, beliefs, customs and taboos affecting the diet of a group. It is what people think of as food..." (Rappaport, 2003).

"When we eat, we eat meanings and symbols. Meanings are not inherent to the food, we ourselves apply the meaning" (Santich, 2007).

Today I ate a "when the hell am I going to get my work permit so I won't have to worry about money", an "if you guys are panicked about an 800 word essay how in the world do you think you're going to do your dissertation", and a "shut up bitch you're just not that funny."

I feel very nourished.

Sunday, March 04, 2007

March 4, 2007

Getting demoted from upper-middle-class housewife to starving student has forced me to seriously reconsider my grocery budget. Looks like it's out with the leftover-phobia regime largely influenced by my ex-husband and in with the my-family-lived-through-the-depression regime largely influenced by my mother. Carol and Louise invited me to use up whatever I could find in the fridge, and after a quick inventory, I had the following for dinner:

Perhaps the Best Fried Rice I've Ever Had

2 C. Rice, cooked, at least a day old
1/4 C. Back Bacon, small dice
1/4 C. Onion, small dice
2 Cloves Garlic, minced
1/4 C. Peas, frozen
2 Eggs, thoroughly beaten
1 Tbsp. Sugar
2 Tsp. Peanut Oil
1 Tbsp. Shoyu (Soy Sauce - use the low-sodium kind. Or just dilute your regular kind with water. That's what they do to make the low-sodium kind anyway)
2 Tsp. Sesame Oil (Yes, you do need both. No, you can't just use this. You don't cook with sesame oil, very expensive, low smoking point, etc., etc.)
2 Tbsp. Hoisin Sauce

Heat a skillet or wok over medium-low heat. Add the peanut oil and tilt the pan to coat. Add the sugar to the eggs and beat to thoroughly blend. Add the eggs to the pan and tilt to evenly coat. As the eggs start to cook, lift the eggs around the edges and tilt the pan to allow any un-cooked egg to run underneath the cooked egg. When the eggs are almost done, lift at one edge and roll the eggs into a very small, tight omelet. Remove from the pan. Add the bacon, and cook until almost completely rendered. Add the onion and the peas, and cook until the onion is translucent and the peas are heated through, about 5-10 minutes. Add the garlic, cook for one minute. Add the rice, making sure to break up any clumps. Add the shoyu, sesame oil, and hoisin sauce. Stir to blend. Slice the omelet in half length-wise, and dice. Add the diced egg to the pan, and toss. Leave on the heat until the egg is reheated through.

It is delicious and good.

Saturday, March 03, 2007

Saturday, March 3, 2007

Later That Same Day...

What Kristin makes when she really wants the comfort of Greek Spaghetti buy can't find any mizithra:

Bread Crumbs

4-6 Slices Bread, NOT WHITE, use a variety of whole wheat, grain, seeded, rye, etc.
4 Cloves Garlic
1 Bunch Parsley of your choosing
2 Tbsp. Parmesan Cheese, grated
1 Tbsp. Olive Oil

Put it all in the food processor and process until thoroughly blended and ground. Store this in your freezer, it's great for all kinds of things: coat meats, top eggs, top roasted vegies, make stuffing, etc.

Sort of Spaghetti Carbonara

4 oz. Spaghetti
1/4 C. Diced cured, salted meat of your choosing - bacon, pancetta, ham would all work
1/2 tsp. Dried Red Pepper Flakes (or as much as you like)
2 Cloves Garlic, minced
2 Tbsp. Bread Crumbs
2 Eggs, thoroughly beaten
Parmesan Cheese to grate on top
S&P To Taste

Cook the spaghetti according to directions. While it is cooking, render your meat in a skillet over medium heat. When the meat is done, add the chili flakes and the garlic. Cook for one minute. Add the bread crumbs and cook for two minutes more. Drain the spaghetti, and add to the skillet. Top with the eggs. Toss the spaghetti to completely coat and cook the egg. Season, and top with Parmesan.

It's not Greek, but it will do in a pinch.
Saturday, March 3, 2007

I was hanging my laundry on the line to dry in the mid-day sun when a slight breeze arose and suddenly I was tangled in sheets, towels, and miscellaneous underwear. It occurred to me that this was the first time I'd ever hung clothes on a line in my entire adult life. The thought brought me back to my childhood in Bluffton, Ohio.

I was actively thinking of my backyard in Bluffton when I went inside to check email and saw the headline. Bluffton Colleges baseball team was travelling through Georgia when their bus went over the side of the freeway, killing six and injuring almost thirty. This is the first time Bluffton, Ohio has ever made national news.

Suddenly I'm very homesick. But where for?

Thursday, March 01, 2007

March 2, 2007

My student visa came through. I can stop wondering what I'm going to do when they deport me now. I'm going to celebrate with a grilled harvarti on whole grain bread sandwich and a finger banana.