My child, my life, and my ideal meal.

Hello. Welcome to paradise. This is my screen saver by the way. I meant to put it in a little heart shaped locket and carry it around my neck all day, but the ink ran out in my printer so... you know... that didn't happen. But, just to make it clear. Cheese. Is. My. Life.

Cheese has always been my life. I'm betting on a string cheese that my first word was cheese. Although I'll just as readily loose that bet because I'm pretty sure my first world was actually bootuh! attempting to say bouteille which is french for bottle. Okay, so maybe my first love was soy milk in a bottle (other wise known as Genetically Modified Organism Soy milk in a bottle) ... Oh how my mind is corrupted... But still. Cheese is my friend okay?

Have you ever been in language class, and the teacher asks you "What did you do yesterday?" Now of course, if they had asked me this in English it would have been weird.. But since it was Spanish class it made sense. See, the only problem was that the only thing I really knew how to say in Spanish was, "Yo come a mi casa queso." <- Even though I'm sure that's not grammatically correct, I said it. And although I'm sure people thought I was just being odd, it is very true sometimes. "I eat at my house, cheese." When I am dismissed from school I sometimes rush home on my miniature scooter, zooming along the blocks, to arrive at my house and find Jarlsberg in my fridge. But see, that's the thing, there isn't always Jarlsberg in fridge. Because if you know Jarlsberg (like in terms of friendship) you'd know, as I do, that he's expensive. Oh, he's very expensive, and only when he's on sale do we buy him, and eat him.... EATTTTTTTTTTTTT HIMMMMMMMMMM

I'm sure you are thinking that I randomly searched the web for photos of Jarlsberg for this post and decided to use this one, but have you ever been more wrong? No, I saw this.... With my own eyes. See that hand holding it? Yep. That's mine. I know. You're impressed. And you should be. You really should be. Because it is impressive. It's very impressive. I saw this sitting on the cheese counter, and I took out my camera, held it high and took a picture, for the world to see.


GMOs and Vegetable Juices

Do not eat anything. That is my advice. If you have seen Food Inc, you may very well agree. Everyone is evil. Live in a shack, with some geese, a chicken, and a hatchet. But whatever you do, do not go to the super market, and live in modern day, because the evil people will get you! In case you haven't seen Food Inc, I highly recommend it, for many reasons:

1. I want more people to realize how hard it is to look at a nice chicken wing and feel guilty eating it and 2. You really deserve to know.

Now of course you wonder... Deserve to know what? To which I reply... I think it's time for you to see the movie...... Then you will know! If you don't watch it you will never ever ever know what I am talking about and won't that just drive you mad?

If you have seen Food Inc, welcome to the club, I hope you feel the same way I do.

I hope you own a juicer. I hope you buy organic veggies. I hope you go to Shake Shack instead of McDonalds, and Trader Joe's instead of WalMart. I hope you eat at home and over all, I hope you realize that the world is full of people that want to poison you! Oh, but I don't wish to scare you. Oh not at all, just I have some advice. Simple. Simple advise. Easy if you think about it.  I would advise you to pack up your bags, buy a goat for company, and set off to the woods, where you know your food hasn't been put through many chemicals to make it last, and where you know "natural" means natural. But then again, that's much easier said than done. Because I told myself that would make the most sense when I saw Food Inc in April. And woopdedoo, still in a city. Still in an apartment, still BLOGGING. I mean, COME ON! People who own goats don't BLOG. They own goats. They feed their goats. They eat GOAT cheese.

Alright, back to History homework...


nothing really matters

nothing really matters. 

nothing really matters. one of the reasons I am sometimes extremely confused by my lack of courage in uncomfortable situations and in myself. listening to Freddie Mercury repeat in a calm, collected, and reassured, and wise voice that nothing really matters makes me feel ridiculous for never realizing it before. because really, really, what matters? what are the reasons we do things in the first place? to make ourselves happy? if it doesn't make you happy, it doesn't matter. If it ruins your life, the problem doesn't matter. If you feel lost and have "lost" yourself, don't know who you are, why worry about it at all? it doesn't matter if you say it doesn't matter. who says it matters? why does it matter? why think it matters? questions like these I really like, for once everything, all together, every last emotion piling down on myself is lifted. possibly, nothing matters. and for that we have nothing to worry about. we are who we are and the world is what it is. we do what we do possibly for a reason. if happy with what life throws at you fine, you don't need to fix it, because it doesn't really matter. so simple its complex and vexing. it doesn't matter if you think it makes no utter sense. 

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