The Finite

All my life, I have been brought up with a “bankrupt the buffet” mentality. It could be Asian culture dealing with Caucasian business principles or it could be just plain cheapness. And that’s why whenever in a dining hall, I’m pretty sure I eat like a pig and take forever to finish because I always go back for more food.

I eat a serving of everything. And ever since I started working at the Grille, I realize that sometimes I make food just because it looks good. For example, baked potatoes (which I slice perfectly because one of jobs of the wraps station is cutting and prepping our baked potatoes) . Whenever one of the dining halls sets up a potato station, I must make the perfect baked potato. Broccoli and bacon contrasted chromatically with viscous yellow nacho cheese. Why did I add nacho cheese, which I hate? Because it offers a uniting color and shape factor that ties the potato together. That’s all.

And I roll some awesome wraps whenever they lay out tortillas. I would fill them with the same ingredients as the ones at the Grille (lettuce, chicken, bacon, secret mayo) and I would roll them perfect: tight yet springy.

But last week, Brooke said I was bony. And my first reaction was: I’m not bony! For some reason what Brooke said really hit me in a soft spot. (Which I have a couple of because I’m not bony.)

I have proof. I just moved up from a large boy’s sized coat to a small men’s size. Tell me that’s not progress. And that new pillow I brought? Too thin for when I sleep on my side. Apparently I have shoulders now, probably from scooping milkshakes. I’ve only gained ten pounds from the start of August. And I’m guessing that’s where most of it went.

Ochem is going okay. We learned that polycyclic aromatic compounds in 18th century soot caused almost all adolescent chimney sweeps to get cancer. It’s a lot harder to sing along to Mary Poppins now.

We got our third organic chem exams back today. Reactions were a little more dramatic than last time. I heard someone crying hysterically in the back and a lot of people were on phones, reassuring loved ones. I got a B.

The lecture hall has a wireless microphone/loudspeaker setup that is quite necessary in such a large hall. The professor would wear the mike necklace (although I’ve also seen it worn as a brooch) which is quite adequate to pick up their voice. The microphone is really sensitive though. So even the slightest breeze is audibly turned into distant thunder. Or, as happened today, during Ochem lecture, the professor’s breathing would keep being amplified, giving the lesson a Vader-esque quality.

Which would suck. I mean, think about it: your professor being Darth Vader.

Prof Vader: I assure you, there are no ring alkynes *inhale* due to the angle strain on the triple bond.
Student: But what if you had an carbocation intermediate…?
Prof Vader: I find your lack of faith disturbing…
Student: *chokes*