So as I believe I've mentioned before, I have a host sister who is Korean, and in light of this past weeks events, I would be insane without her here and my other host sister would be dead. And I think she feels the same about me. Who knows if we'd be so close if there wasn't a mutual person we both wanted to murder? Anyway, last week was winter vacation, which is why I had my lovely Germany trip and spent way too much time watching How I Met Your Mother and Community (2 seasons of each because I have nothing to do here but avoid homework, which is why I'm writing this now instead of a paper and finishing a project, yay). It also means that my youngest host sister has two weeks off from her school. Never in my life did I think having to go back to school would be so amazing. I get to be away from her and not be driven insane every day by her lack of awareness of other human beings. Maybe this is a sign that I shouldn't have kids and should just stick to large quantities of dogs instead. Anyway, we had a talk with our host mom about some of the stuff she was doing so hopefully it'll get better, and this isn't what I wanted to talk about really so on to some food and observation.
I learned how to make a Korean dish, and no I have no idea what the name is. All I know is that it's delicious. And it takes a hell of a lot of time to chop all the vegetables needed. It was worth it though, and if you ever learn how to make whatever dish this was, you'll understand how amazing it is to say it after all the steps that are required. It makes paella look like a 5 minute microwave meal (in time comparison NOT by taste standards). Anyway, I also figured out how to make the rice for sushi, which means that I can now (probably and seriously hopefully) make my own sushi, which means not breaking my bank account for sushi belly. YAYAYAYAY!!!! This is kind of the best news of my life, unless I get a letter from the UK begging me to just be a citizen already, although the chances of that are slim, I still have hope. And don't even think about popping that one. ANYWHO sushi, I'm capable of it, it's a big deal. And I can make a Korean dish, I'm awesome, so just love me already. Next part:
I didn't realize how much eating with other people bothers me. So here's a long list of complaints I have about anyone who eats food like this. 1) The only time you should watch someone eat (like vigilantly staring at the food on their plate and when they shove it in their mouth) is when you're observing an anorexic to make sure they're taking in enough calories. Sometimes (all the time actually) fat people like food, and we dislike when people observe us like chimps at the zoo because we have a passion for food. Eating is one of the few talents we have, and we'd like you non fat people to not take that away from us. (Ok this might just be my general opinion, I don't actually speak for the fat person community, although new aspiration? I think so!!) 2) What is with all the mouth noises when you eat? Did your parents never teach you not to smack your mouths. I know this is a pet peeve of mine, but it's disgusting to listen to you eat like my dog, or a pig. It legit makes me feel physically ill, which upsets me because I like keeping my food in my stomach. (Food and I are in a FABULOUS relationship in case you hadn't noticed.) 3) This goes hand in hand with number two, who talks with food in their mouth? And I'm not talking about a peanut, I'm talking about a full tortellini. That's nasty bro, I don't want to see it, I'm a weeny and I like to whine about little things and that's one of them. At least move your hand in front of your mouth, that's just common courtesy. 4) It's not so much of a problem but how can you not feel random particles of food on your face? It's not like you have a three foot beard for things to get trapped in for the birds living in it (anyone anyone?). I just don't even comprehend how you can't feel melted cheese smeared across your cheek, are your nerve endings dead? I need this explained to me. And now I feel slightly better and less sickened. Next part:
This is the part where if you're a boy, you should stop reading. If you don't want to be forced to the level of best friends stop reading. If you're one of the faint of hearts, you really wanna stop reading at least until the next paragraph. So, I liked to consider myself extremely lucky in the female health department, because I was a month away from 21 years without a yeast infection. Then February happened, it's not really February's fault, but since it's the shittiest month in the year, I'm blaming it anyway. Needless to say, I got one, and OMG it's enough to make me get a sex change to never get one again. This shit is ridiculous. Now normally I'm not the type of person to flaunt my health on the internet, but if there's a female reading this, you'll give me an "Oh sweetie" (mentally of course) and then you'll laugh and thank god this didn't happen to you, so let me start the story. I woke up to one of the remaining days of my week vacation in France, filled with the lustrous hope of finishing the 8th season of How I Met Your Mother and possibly starting Community all in the same day, I know, big hopes. When all of a sudden, in my nether regions I felt more than a slight discomfort. So I went to the bathroom in order to see what the fuck was going on with my lady bits, when after a few actions I won't describe, there was a "HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS WHAT IS THIS???" moment. Good thing I'd had a curiosity about yeast infections and had asked a friend what that was like, and knew, after a few moments of calming down, what I was dealing with. So a few hours passed with a lot of itchy temptations that I resisted, and my host mom finally came home. For a few of those hours there was a panic that I wasn't going to be able to make it to the pharmacy to get medication, and since it was a Saturday that meant I'd have to go until Monday without any medicine because Europe still enjoys torture. Luckily she came home and I got the lovely joy of telling her what I had and could she please take me to a pharmacy so I wouldn't cut out my baby making parts to just be done with it (because anyone who has had one knows how much fun wouldn't be had for those three days). So as my luck would have it when we arrive to the pharmacy, the pharmacist is a male. Just reread that, make a sigh like noise, and we'll continue. So instead of letting me bumble through my french skills which are not adequate enough to handle this type of situation (at least not at this time) my host mom jumps right in there and says about 50 times that her host daughter (being me, in case you didn't know) has a yeast infection, and it's her first one (like it was my first period and something to be proud of or something) and it's not my host mother's but mine, and I need medication. Instead, I would have rather snuck out and gone to another pharmacy where there's a nice old lady pharmacist who's probably had a few and understands my pain and wouldn't have been embarrassing as fuck. So as we're talking to this nice man, and the entire store now knows that my vagina has betrayed me, I have the pleasure of then asking the nice gentleman if getting my period will affect this medicine at all or if it should still work fine. The answer is that you can indeed use the medicine on your period. Since I started mine last night. Because my body hates me, wholeheartedly. Again, further reason for why I hate February. It's the unholy trinity of bad luck, there's singles awareness day, there's yeast infections, and periods. WORST MONTH EVER.
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