Um, thanks?

So last night, one of my housemates handed me a couple of packages. One was from Amazon (Got the book, ma, I'll read it over break.), the other was this rather innocuous looking flat rate box sent from home.

 

Harmless, right? Let's take a look inside:

 

Things are a little stranger now. It was filled with a gummy hand (with real crunchy bones inside!), a couple of mustaches, an emergency blanket, lots and lots of napkins and no note. To say the least, I was a little confused. I texted my sister and the conversation went a little like this:

Me: Any explanation for this box I just got?

Sister: Ummmmmmmmm... merry christmas?

Me: Theme gifts?

Sister: Yep.

Me: Who is the hand from?

Sister: Uncle 3's theme.

Me: The napkins? And the Christmas napkins?

Sister: Lol step dad was out of packing peanuts.

Me: And popcorn? I have to say those were the most confusing part. Did you do the mustaches?

Sister: I don't know about the popcorn and yep.

My mom's side of the family has this super fun tradition were we all try to spend the least on the strangest or most entertaining gifts for the whole family. I remember blinking red noses one year, pencils with "1998 theem gift" on them, and some interesting band-aids, among others things. This exchange happens whenever most of us can get together. My mom and two uncles are all in the same general vicinity, so it's usually them now and I think they had Christmas sometime in mid-January, and naturally, the box just got here at the end of March. I had kind of guessed that's what it was, and wasn't the least surprised by most of the contents, but the napkins threw me off a bit, those aren't typical theme gift things. My family is awesome. My housemate who brought me the box also witnessed me opening it and is probably convinced that side of my family is on the top ten list of "Strangest Families in the World who Don't Participate in Illegal Activities."

Also, this is the closest thing I will ever get to one of those mirror self portraits with a big camera type shot. I call it "The artist as an angry mustachioed man." I even wore my man glasses for the occasion. Actually, I wear my man glasses a lot, so that's not really a big surprise. 

I have several posts that are sitting half-way written that will hopefully be posted soon. Maybe even sometime today seeing as I have been meaning to go hang out at the library to get a couple of papers written and now it's three and that still hasn't happened. 

Portrait of a Pineapple

I'm feeling the need for a little more positive in my life right now and thought I would write an ode to the farmers market, (Kid you not. I'm such a hippie child.) but didn't know which form would do such a thing the most justice (my iambic pentameter is a little rusty), because farmers markets are indeed things of beauty. 

Instead, you will get to look at portraits of the deliciously fresh pineapple I purchased that were taken shortly after said product of paradise came into my possession. 

I'm such a sucker for texture. 

We have an on campus farmers market every other Friday where we can get locally grown produce for a heckuva lot cheaper than Foodland offers. I may have gotten a little spoiled while I was home last summer because most dinners included at least a couple of veggies that were grown in the back yard or purchased at the farmers market, and I miss that. My diet is lacking in awesome most of the time, but for a couple of times every month I can enjoy fresh pineapple, pears, peas, tomatoes and whatever else catches my eye and I am happy. There are very few things in the world that beat fresh produce, and none of those are other food items. 

Almost.

It's hitting that point in the semester again where I have an easily quantifiable list of things I need to get done before finals, and there really aren't that many things, but what is left is BIG. And it might be just a teeny-tiny bit stressful. And I may have been walking down the hallway on my way home while thinking about things that still need to get done and haven't been going as well as I would have hoped when I fell and hurt my knee and it just topped everything off and I might have been very grateful to have a good friend with me who didn't mind that it took twenty minutes to walk home when it usually takes five. And it may be one in the morning and I am still up because my knee hurts and I want to get a paper written before I go to class tomorrow.

Thank goodness that there are only three weeks left and then I can finally breath again.

 

Right now I want nothing more than to sit and watch the waves at Pupukea, and I'd totally take a trip down Kam Highway this weekend to do it, except I have a meeting all of Saturday morning and a couple more papers due next week that need to get written. Someday.