plinky prompt: orange happiness

What’s your favorite comfort food and why?

Mac&cheese, all the way. The kind without any vegetables whatsoever, and, now I come to think of it, without any real cheese. Usually I’ll make a salad as a side dish, to even it out a bit. I often make it after a particularly stressful week. It’s been a staple through all five of my years in higher education, usually during exam period.

doesn't that look good? No? Oh. It does, to me.

Mac&cheese is in the same category as pb&j: it reminds me of my American childhood. I can remember one particularly fine camping trip in which my dad made us mac&cheese on the portable stove as a special treat. Only he miscalculated how much milk to add and ended up with mac&cheese soup. (Sometimes, my sister and I will make it that way on purpose for old times’ sake.) And while I enjoy a more sophisticated mac&cheese these days (you know, the kind with veggies, and four different kinds of cheese), there’s nothing like a big bowl of bright orange, Kraft-inspired pasta to make me happy.

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plinky prompt: consider yourself warned

Your friend is having a baby – what do you give her as a gift for the little one?

A book, of course. Goodnight Moon, or one of the other three million picture books I loved as a little kid.

In fact, any kid that grows up with me around will have to endure receiving books from me for any and all occasions. I’m a firm believer in the power of words, and God help any kid that doesn’t like to read but has me to babysit him or her.

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Books, books, books, books, books, books, and books.

plinky prompts: bad teachers

my high school. It looks very, um, exciting, right?

I don’t think I’ve ever had really bad teachers. That could be because I am rather a goody-goody two shoes that hates not meeting expectations and so tend to stay out of trouble. Or maybe I lucked out, I don’t know.

I do remember a couple teachers in high school that were … rather good at discouraging me, though. I remember one math teacher who told me that it wasn’t my fault my math grades sucked, I was just really bad at math. A science teacher who wouldn’t explain anything to those of us not on the science track, since we’d be dropping the course after our mandatory three years anyway so he wasn’t going to waste time and energy on us. But the best, or worst, actually, was my social studies teacher who asked me my opinion about the project he was making us do, and when I wasn’t very positive, took the next opportunity he could find to yell at me in class. And please, remember that I never ever got in trouble in high school, so the injustice of it all still rankles me.

Oh, and I had a run-in with our gym teacher. But I don’t really remember why. And I can’t remember the name of my social studies teacher, so both incidents can’t have been all that traumatic. I think.

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