September 26, 2010

cup-o-noodles for the third night in a row.

My mother would only make us cup-o-noodles on the most special of occasions (probably because they were so bad for you). Play outside all day in the snow at my nanny's house and then strip off the boots, the wet socks, and the jackets soaked from sticky snow to come inside. She'd pour the boiling water into the styrofoam cups and we'd wait with the greatest of impatience -- glasses fogging up and noses burning from the shock of the steam.

Now I eat cup-o-noodles everyday for dinner.

And they are not nearly as filling or magical as I remember them.

But I'm not complaining. I'd rather not waste the time in trying to find/cook something else. I'd rather be immersed in my studying. I've been researching more on Italian Renaissance art, and it is fascinating. Comparing that to my Contemporary Art History class is mind-blowing because no matter what time period it is, there are artists. There are people who are thinking and molding and changing the society they live in with new, never-before-thought-of ideas. Who was the first man to think in his head "I'm going to take this pigment, smear it on the cave wall, and try to interpret what I see in nature onto a 2-dimensional surface"? Whomever he was, he was a genius. People continue to amaze me.

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