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I really, really need to be writing a paper right now, so of course, I’m blogging.  It’s been a while since I doled out a slice of my little life for your delectation, and besides, Lucy (hilariously funny wife to my cousin) just told me that her mom reads this blog and loves it, and that I may have personally dragged her into the 21st century by the pure force of my unabashed wit.  Now a girl doesn’t get a compliment like that every day, so I thought I’d respond by sending out a little blogging love.  Because that’s the kind of woman I am.  You’re welcome.

The big news in my neck of the woods, besides the Great Doom of Exams (ahhhhh!  Exams!!!! Run for the hills!), is that someone decided to slash the tires on my car.  No, really.  I had parked it just off UD campus, on one of the little side streets on the other side of Woodlawn Cemetery.  It’s a quick walk from there to the Science Building where I had Bio this semester, so I’ve been in the habit of parking there every Monday and Wednesday when I go to class.  When I came back to pick it up, both of the drivers’s side tires were complete pancakes.  I wanted badly to believe that it was just some fluke, that somehow they had been going flat and I hadn’t noticed or something.  But no.  AAA towed it to the tire shop, where they confirmed that someone had shoved a knife all the way through the tires.  So, you know, I got new tires.

My main reaction to this has been bewilderment.  Who does these things?  And why would they do it to me?  Johnsy suggested that I make a sign to put in the back window that says, “I’m the girl everybody likes!  Please slash someone else’s tires!” Though I don’t think that would make any difference.  This didn’t have anything to do with me personally, just someone being randomly evil.  Or maybe the girl who jilted them used to drive a car like mine.  Or something.  Or maybe there’s an international spy ring that’s feuding with the zombies from the cemetary, and my car just happened to get caught in the crossfire.  Er, cross-knifing.  Something like that.  In the meantime, it’s been nice getting outraged sympathy from my friends, and sharing conspiracy theories.  Also, Mick decided to start a Let’s Replace B’s Slashed Tires Club, commandeering my facebook wall to do so, and forbidding me to protest or interfere.  I’m a little bemused by that too.  I have this odd reaction when guys get all take-charge about things.  I really like it, but mostly because I think it’s cute, which I don’t think is the response they’re going for.

In other news, as part of my mad procrastination plan (see also: blogging), I made ice cream last night for the first time.  I’ve been wanting to for a while, and I actually got an ice cream maker for Christmas (woohoo!).  I love making ice cream because I can make it very tasty without putting in any sugar, which means I can eat it, and the world is a good place.  On Monday I had been thinking that it was perfect weather for ice cream, but I didn’t have the ingredients on hand.  Tuesday I went shopping, and then last night I made a batch of blackberry vanilla ice cream using a modification of this recipe.  It turned out utterly delicious, but with a grainy texture that isn’t quite pleasing.  I think I didn’t let it churn long enough, but I’m not sure.  I’m going to have to try it again.  You know, for science.  I’m very stoked about the ice cream possibilities – deep, dark chocolate, buttermilk vanilla, maybe some chai ice cream.  And then there’s the recipe for Whiskey & Honey ice cream.  I can’t do the honey part, but liquor in ice cream sounds like a winning combination.

I think I prophecy a summer full of ice cream headaches.

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