state of limbo

First meal - the pineapple makes it tropical.

No time in the kitchen = no new pictures to share.  So I'm bringing it back to Fiji because... I haven't talked about it, I'm about to make another trip to paradise (Puerto Rico in a week!), and I miss the lazy island life.

[Playing off a theme from last night's study distraction...]

Amelia's psychiatric evaluation:

*symptoms of senioritis evolving into concerning case of "doesn't give a fuck."

*inability to pretend to care (applicable to both academics and people) when she just doesn't care

*delusional fantasies of creating the next trend in snackage - pulls focus away from phenology presentation and organic chem exam

*high risk for break down of personal morals

*tendency to prioritize endorphins over developing a work ethic - perhaps direct consequence of constant restlessness

*obsession with chicken caesar salads, apple juice, and eggs

What I miss most about island food is how fresh the fruit was.  I don't question where exactly it came from; all I know is that I've never had sweeter papaya.  Kokoda was by far my favorite, especially the part where I soak up the juices with sourdough biscuits and roasted potatoes - I guess I would describe it as coconut ceviche soup...marination of raw fish in lime juice is involved, so close enough.  My extreme fondness for acidic dishes is indirectly controlling my college-onset sweet tooth (thank you sensitive teeth?) -  not quite understanding how Danielle can eat so many lemons without religiously brushing with Sensodyne.  

For whatever reason, I was never hungry.  Maybe it was the lack of physical activity or real sense of time (though I can't say that this is much different in my average everyday life), but three structured meals a day has never worked out better for me, who constantly has to be eating or thinking about eating or controlling the urge to eat.  I appreciated the influx of vegetables and fruits and protein and color and variety after the horrendous diet I was on in Melbourne.  The only thing I missed was bottles upon bottles upon gallons of water - I had to resort to sipping on hot water in the scorching heat because I didn't want to spend 5-6 FJD on a water bottle that would only realistically last me three minutes and seventeen seconds, or thereabouts.  Hooray for unlimited drinks (minus fruity cocktails) on the scuba-diving island though (blanking on the name...South... Sea?  South...something).

What I miss most about island life is falling asleep on the beach and bathing in the ocean, not giving a fuck about how much sand is in my hair or how that refreshing ice cold beer is packing it straight on the tummy, and how it's socially acceptable to always exist half-naked and barefoot.  I love how slow the days are, how removed I was from the stresses of uni life.

I wish there was just a way to know.  Where is this rejection or acceptance letter aka determination of my summer plans?  I'd like to think I'm prepared for either.  Someone explain to me why it's so hard for things to just fall into place (and why other people like to insist that they do).  Waiting for the little things: test scores, responses to yes-or-no questions, items to go on sale.  What she thinks of my personality, what he thinks of my face, what they all think of my contribution to the conversation.  When will I settle into the real life?  And if I settle, will I be even half as successful as my dad?  Would Hershey's take me, will there be another opportunity to live abroad, am I a likable person?

Our last meals of fish and chicken on the mainland.

On another note, this song makes me sway.