My struggle filled relationship with carbohydrates
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One of my favorite things to do in life is to eat, and another is to stay in bed. It is therefore inevitable that I would like eating in bed. I’ve been surprised by the disgust people tend to express when I say I eat in bed. I clean up any crumbs I might spill.
Baltimore Restaurant Week really couldn’t have come at a better time for most Hopkins students, since it was smack in the middle of Intersession. Classes during this time only had pass/fail grades and generally involved either light workloads or none at all. Most importantly, they were actually fun to take.
Yes, struggling. We’d be in the kitchen from noon to late at night, but at these cookouts, we only get four dishes done — tops. Usually, we’d have three or even less, if you don’t count desserts or any meals with pre-made ingredients. This is all despite the fact that the recipes we used were all supposed to be simple.
My mom would pour me the milk first and then dump in whatever particular cereal brand I happened to be obsessing over that month.
It’ll be turning midnight, by which point I’ve already eaten all my meals for the day, but somehow my stomach still thinks there’s room for more. And not just a little bit more but a family-sized-bag-of-chips type of more.
The best teas in terms of supposed weight loss (as ranked by online sources, most of which are recipe and fitness blogs run by rich, young, white, vegan girls) also tend to be the ones with more intense flavors or colors.
My mom had been pushing me to drink tea more often for years. However, it wasn’t her advice that actually led me to this decision. When I came home this summer, she was shocked to discover that I was drinking more tea on a daily basis than she did. She actually tried to get me to drink less tea; Apparently it’s better to start a day off with a glass of regular water rather than a cup of tea.
I wasn’t all that rebellious of a kid back in elementary school. There were a few days where I brought my Game Boy to school. Occasionally, I put more duck sauce on my chicken fingers than I was supposed to. I’ll admit I did cheat on an exam on U.S. trivia once in fifth grade because I hadn’t been paying attention to the last week’s worth of classes. (Nowadays, I just accept my impending failures.) But these were all one-off or otherwise infrequent incidents.
Eighteen is just such an arbitrary number to mark the entry point into adulthood. I always think that something’s just wrong when I’m signing a form and don’t need to get parental consent, especially because I’m just as dependent as I’ve always been.
Since I started high school, I’ve occasionally skimmed through texts the night before an exam, but it’s not like I’m actually taking in the meaning of most of the words. I got through high school with the help of SparkNotes (although I’ll never forgive them for the two-sentence summary they wrote for Brokeback Mountain — only got one question right on that pop quiz). I would even go as far as to dedicate my high school diploma to SparkNotes.
I had to take both the subway and bus, and they were always crowded because, of course, school starts just after rush hour. There usually wouldn’t be any seats available, so I’d have to stand, often in closer contact with people than I would ever have wanted.
Three of our members left the team shortly before last week as well, so most of the team had to take on additional roles. We were definitely set back, and that last week was the only one during which we practiced with our reduced team.
I remember staying up past my bedtime to watch streams of gaming conventions like E3 to see whether a new trailer for the game would come out; More often than not, I’d go to sleep disappointed. I have never anticipated a game as much as I have this one, and for good reason.
The Birthday Problem is an example of something that shocked me when I first learned about it in lecture. The problem simply asks how many people would need to be in a room for there to be a high chance of two people’s birthdays matching up.
Everything related to my life somehow ties its way back to math nowadays. For example, this article is being frantically written after an intense Monday night Calculus III PILOT session.
It’s a valid question. Personally, math is far from being my favorite subject. In fact, it’s pretty far down the list — so I do suppose it’s weird that I’m taking two math classes my first semester at Hopkins.