I knew my grocery situation was in a state of utter despair when my mother started sending me soy protein bars in the mail.
Perhaps she was worried I had adopted one of those weekend liquid diets so many people here seem to be on, where your main caloric intake comes between midnight and 4 a.m. After all, for a while my pantry shelf consisted only of oyster crackers, Cheerios and mini-jars of Heinz ketchup that my roommate slyly swiped from the Boar's Head. Yet the most shameful act was one evening in late August, when the same roommate emerged into our apartment beaming after a great date because she'd scored - some leftovers.
That is the way things were during my first few weeks back in Charlottesville. Our food situation honestly didn't faze me until late-night visitors, who usually binge on cold pizza or Pokey sticks, started commenting that we had "the best carrots they'd ever tasted."
Meanwhile the girls across the hall didn't boost my domestic ego when they lured in friends with the buttery scent of double-stuffed baked potatoes and chocolate chip cookies. We boiled cinnamon, hoping to no longer deter friends with the peculiar odor in the kitchen. And why make dessert when my roommate once generously treated me to a king-sized peppermint patty from the gas station, charged on her dad's Exxon card?
There's a crock-pot on top of our fridge (for what purpose I do not yet know) but it feels like some omnipotent force, bearing down upon our frequent domestic mishaps. My friend honestly questioned, "How do we know if the oven's hot?" and also attempted to make iced tea by soaking the bag in frigid water.
Nor should I be hoisted on a pedestal. Chilled and wet after tubing on the river one summer day, I attempted to make some canned soup. When a burnt odor permeated the room, I ran to the stove and saw that all the liquid had evaporated, leaving a sad array of burnt peas and carrots. I concluded it is not smart to cook under the influence of tubing.
Things have improved since those careless days of summer, and when the peanut butter is completely scraped clean, I putter out to Harris Teeter. It's most fun to go on the weekends, when you're really tired, punchy and easily amused. I'll never forget the Saturday I witnessed a friend accidentally plow and knock over the singing salsa bowl display. There's nothing like cruising the aisles to the sounds of a bad mariachi band.
To make a Harris Teeter trip a success, it's all about the mini cart. The mini cart, which is half the size of a regular, is the virtual Grand Prix roadster of all shopping vehicles. Its maneuverability is remarkable and enables you to quickly bypass the vegetables and head straight to the bakery for those great sugar cookie samples. They put out those samples to deter people like my roommate from hungrily eyeing the produce and eating a bunch of bananas prior to checkout.
Because of a recent influx of birthdays, my roommates and I have been hitting the baking aisle pretty hard. We have mastered the art of the instant birthday cake and are very partial to the "funfetti" variety, which is best topped with party-chip icing. However, it has come to our attention that many guys aren't that crazy about sweets.
Regardless, my roommates and I just love to invite them over on their big day, sit them down on the couch and flip on some football. Then we smile and stare as we pressure them to choke down a massive piece of warm cake topped off with vanilla ice cream. Usually between bites, and our insistence that they have more, the birthday boy thanks us and then claims that he'd just love to stay but he's really got to go pick up the rushees and head to BW-3.
Next year though, when any of my guy friends turn 21, I'm just going to stick a candle into a big, beefy slab of steak. It'll give me an excuse to break out my George Foreman Lean Mean Grilling Machine. Except for that one night of Ball Park Franks at our highly acclaimed cookout, the poor thing just hasn't been getting much action.
Read More
How study abroad taught me to stop studying
By Grace Scott | 4 days agoTurns out, it took attending one of the most prestigious universities in the world for me to realize there's more to life than studying.
Collyn Clark reflects on Space Workforce 2030, building an inclusive space industry
By Carly Stender | 5 days agoClark said programs such as the SWF 2030 internship can serve as launch pads for a career in the aerospace industry.
The White Spot: an iconic diner etched in student nightlife
By Alexa Graham | 6 days agoThe White Spot is a timeless diner for Charlottesville residents and students looking for a greasy spoon infused with University spirit.
