Au Feure

I just had the most awesome mac'n'cheese. The recipe was a combination of one in the Pasta book, and my grandmother's. (I get the feeling my grandmother is ubiquitous in these entries. It's not planned - she just is that sort of personality. She towers over everyone in my family, except my mother, who is not a Grunberg by blood anyway. Lucky me!) Being - well, speaking - French, she calls it Macaroni Au Feure, or however you spell it. I don't know why it's not Macaroni Au Fromage, but there you go. I don't even know what Feure (sp??) is. Anyway, I should make it more often. Because I really need the calories. Although, we used half and half instead of heavy cream. I feel like there was this macaroni and cheese sized hole inside of me that has just been filled with comfort and warmth and creamy and ooooooooooze. God, this blog is so deep. I mean SHALLOW. Who would be interested in mac and cheese? Um hi Reader... we should do something for Sinclaire.
I was looking through my old papers trying to find something (I didn't find it), and it's amazing how good some of them were, considering how old I was (or even not considering that). They were pretty much uniformly excellent. Is it possible to go DOWNhill? To get less smart? Damnit!!! I feel like on the continuum of "intelligence" and "age," I started out as a near verbal genius, if I can say that without sounding like a true unmitigated asshole (which I probably can't) - reading at two, and all - progressed to a precocious writer and analyzer, and have now gloriously arrived at my current point of "above average... hopefully?" At this rate, in a mere 5 years, I will have lost the ability to comphrehend books with more words than pictures. Go me.
Um yeah. I chose my monologue for drama class. It's the one I delighted the crowd with at my first Drama Day as a pre-TSer. Ah, memories. Everyone was like "We want YOU! for EEP Drama Society" and I was like "I have found my spiritual home!" I also enjoyed the company of Sinclaire and Mattia. Then they proceeded to shut me out for the next two years of auditions and I was like *tear* Alas.
One day this past week I was thinking of what I should do between now and law school/The Rest of My Life, and I alighted on Boot Camp. Army! Army had half-a-day!! I went to Army's website (www.goarmy.com or gov or org or something like that) and watched all the videos of their week-by-week explanation of Boot Camp. On the one hand, admittedly the most important - the right, if you will, or the dominant one - it sounds like pure hell. On the other hand, which is more like a stump, it makes you get fit, and conquer your fears, and builds your self-respect, and gives you something real you can be proud of, as well as a seal for marksmanship and a gorilla for sand-racing. Also, you learn how to bludgeon a dummy with a bayonet. My Israeli cousins will have to serve in Army, but a different one, not Usarmy. It's like the Israeli equivalent of college, but more intense - you get this bond, apparently, with your fellow soldiers. Your "hevre," as it's called. But also, a lot of people hate it. It's like a love hate thing. I'm only expanding upon this paragraph because I like saying Army.
If I do go to law school, I want to be a summer associate at Preston Gates Ellis in Seattle. They seem like a combination of effective and almost-possibly-compassionate, which is cool. Also, you get $2,000 a week, which is cool too. I wrote about Jim Ellis for the magazine (the first one) and he was awesome. He basically cleaned out LAke Washington singlehandedly. But not literally.
this is long enough.