Taking a break from moaning about my life for a second, I’ve decided to showcase my brilliant culinary talents. I have the house to myself for a couple of weeks as my huge family is on holiday, which is partly incredibly weird as the house is very quiet, but also partly quite good as I get to cook stuff in a proper kitchen with an oven and everything, without said family being aware if I mess things up horribly. I get really self-conscious about cooking in front of/for other people, and usually end up doing something stupid (grating cheese so it falls down my sleeves, nearly chopping thumb off, etc). However, I do quite like cooking, despite my lack of obvious talent:


I yoinked ideas for this from here, and although you can’t really see from the picture, I used cubed sweet potatoes and re-fried beans for the taco filling, with cucumber and tomatoes on top. Tomorrow I am doing a sweet potato bake, because I only seem to eat sweet potatoes. And because I bought too many. Today I ate cheesy chips and pizza, but I am not photographing that because that required no talent at all, and would ruin the illusion that I’m living an incredibly glamorous and healthy life.
I’ve sort of given thought to my terrifying future (to change the subject slightly!). I spent a nice day in Hereford with Little Rose and Little Edward, and there was much joy. I think I’m going to try and get in touch with other universities in Britain to see if I can transfer. It’s worth a shot, at least. I feel guilty (obviously, because I feel guilty about EVERYTHING I do) that I’ve had all this time to think about what it is I want to do, and I still don’t really know. Or I do kind of know- I want to research lovely dialectology forever- but I don’t quite know how to get there. At least I know what I’m interested in. It’s a start. I feel that 2011 has been a bit of a weird year, in that I’ve been wandering around, not really sure what I’m doing. But this can change, it’s just strange at the moment.
ALSO I HAVE WINE THAT I WAS GIVEN AT WORK. THIS HELPS.

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