Can I graduate with a degree in Baked Goodsology?

So college is all about self-discovery, right? I mean, exploring your horizons, expanding your senses, figuring out who you really are, etc. And boy, have I made some discoveries. A few of them follow:

1. I am a procrastinator. When given the choice to do something now or later, I will, without fail, choose later. Which wouldn't be such a problem if I didn't have to pass my classes in order to graduate, or if passing classes didn't require that I complete and hand in assignments on time. Unfortunately, we live in a flawed world where bizarrely, authority figures actually expect you to do what they tell you to do in the time frame that they laid out. Crazy.

2. I have the ability to discuss world politics, American history, and fashion with the same level of intensity and heartfelt interest. I'm not sure what that says about me as a person.

3. OMG BAKING. No, but seriously. My procrastinating (see number 1 above) has mutated into some horrible baking compulsion. I've made two cakes, three batches of scones, two batches of rugelach, some experimental cannales, a trillion black-bottom cupcakes, and more cookies and brownies than imaginable since classes started. Just last night I was thinking, "wow, I should really work on that Honors Thesis I'm writing... guess its time to make some rugelach!"

Someone needs to take the hand-mixer away from me.

No, But Really

I know that this is going to sound incredibly self-centered, but sometimes I think the internet is in my head. Like the whole thing actually just forms in my brain, all the content and everything, and other people have somehow managed to gain access to it all but don't realize that they are really connecting to my brain rather than some amorphous world wide web. I'm not saying its imaginary or non-existent, just that my brain contains the entire web. And yeah, if the internet really was my brain Wikipedia would be a lot less in-depth and have more entries about recent sales at Anthropologie and pandas and fewer about quantum phsyics and Magic: The Gathering, but still. Everytime I convince myself that my crazy delusions are just that, something like www.cakesandbabies.blogspot.com comes a long and sends me right back into that headspace where Wi-Fi hotspots have access to my brain and the planet actually spins around me rather than the sun.

Because here is the thing: I am a long-time lover of cake and an admirer of babies. (I was going to leave it as "lover of babies," but than I realized how that might read. This is meant to amuse, not gross people out.) I have baked many a cake. I have not made many a baby (something that my mother, my college advisor, and my better sense are all relieved to know) but I certainly like them and have been known to hatch not-too-far-fetched plans to kidnap particularly cute ones. So I think we can establish that this whole "website devoted to food and babies" thing is something I would appreciate. IF I HADN'T COME UP WITH THE IDEA EIGHT BILLION YEARS AGO.

And by eight billion years I actually mean two. But seriously, two years ago during an especially nasty final exam period, C and I were freaking out in the library and talking about how great CuteOverload was for procrastination. (For those not in the know, CuteOverload is a site were people send in cute photos of their pets and visitors ooh and aah over them.) Suddenly, I was struck with the most genius idea EVER. I even have Instant Messaging proof, as follows:

Shoshanimal1: I just thought of the best/most dangerous website
Shoshanimal1: cuteoverload, but for babies
Shoshanimal1: human babies
Keeshi41: HAHA
Shoshanimal1: I KNOW
Shoshanimal1: the potential for AWESOME is unfortunately perfectly matched with the potential for creepy/illegal/pervyness
Keeshi41:hahaha
Keeshi41: yea you made it sound super shady
Shoshanimal1: because it is super shady
Shoshanimal1: only here, shady=amazing

So you see? I SAW THIS COMING.

I hope you don't think I'm accusing the Cakes and Babies folks of stealing my idea, because they didn't. The most likely explanation is that they are smart people who appreciate the combination of cute babies and yummy cake and thought it might be fun to make a website out of it - a sort of "two great tastes that taste great together." But maybe, just maybe, ethernet cords actually connect to my brain rather than the interwebs (which are, of course, a series of connecting tubes and thus are an improbable form of mass communication to begin with) and so when I come up with fabulous ideas, two years later they emerge as websites.

Which means that you don't have long to wait until some enterprising start-up will be selling rocket boots online. Now aren't you glad that this is all my brain?

They Came, They Saw, They Ate

The past few days have been a whirlwind of sight-seeing and tour-guiding as I took three of my dear friends, Acree, Ben, and Victoria around the greater Bay Area. During our jaunts around SF and Berkeley we talked a lot, as is our wont, about how this experience would look if we were making a movie about it. There would be a lot of montages of photographs of the four of us smiling, laughing, hanging off of each others arms as we lean in to whisper something, all intermixed with footage of people playing practical jokes on each other, climbing trees, walking in the surf, and generally looking happy, healthy, and gently, inoffensively hip. As you can tell, this film is destined to be a box office smash.

But anyway, if "Acree, Ben, Victoria and Shoshi Do The Bay Area" is a movie, then clearly their must be a moral, or at least some realization that the protagonist comes to. And seeing as how this is my blog, I get to be the protagonist. So here is my grand realization: I'm just not very good at showing visitors around the Bay Area. And this is why: its such a great place to live that the stuff I show people are all the things that I do all the time, like eat out at great restaurants and wander around the streets aimlessly. So people who come and visit me get the Tour de Shoshi - experiencing what I do when I'm home from school rather than the things that tourists enjoy.

I'm not saying this is a bad thing - a lot of the tourist spots are stupid and superficial, and I think there is something to be said for seeing a city as a local does. But I do think I should start showing visitors to actually important places, like art museums and historical locations, if only because the only way I'll drag myself out to these things is if I have the excuse of showing them to the uninitiated.

Wednesdays

You know its that sort of day when the thing gets you most excited is iTunes radio playing a Joanna Newsom. Seriously, I thought I was going to cry tears of joy. Wednesdays suck.

New Seven Wonders?

Okay, so I get the idea of updating the list to reflect a more global understanding of the word "world" (as opposed to a "Mesopotamia is AWESOME" interpretation of it) and, yeah, its cool that it was a show of international democracy, and yes, 6/7ths of the original list no longer exist... BUT STILL. I mean, wrong with commemorating our lost history? Why can't we just let the seven wonders stay as they are, even if we only ever hear about them in history class? I mean, they may all be gone now, but isn't there something great about the idea of kids learning about these fantastical creations that occupy a mythic place in our history? And the fact that they don't exist anymore makes it all the more important that we hold on to what we know about them. I mean, why bother to teach about the Babylonian Gardens or the Colossus of Rhodes if they don't count as wonders? And if we take away their "wonders" status, aren't we hammering the final nail into their coffins of obscurity?

And on a less pretentious note, THE PYRAMIDS OF GIZA STILL EXIST. I mean, thats just a slap in the face of ancient Egypt. They built those babies to last, and now we're saying, "nope, sorry, you may have survived near millenia of sandstorms, various and sundry rulers, multiple religions, Napoleon (the man blew off the nose of the Sphinx, thats all I'm saying), colonialism and two world wars, but you just aren't that wonderous anymore. We'd like that title back, thanks. Mexican pyramids are so hot right now." I can almost here the pyramids of Giza weakly yelling, "I'm not dead yet!"

A Few of My Favorite Things

And some stuff I don't miss at all.

Obviously there is a period that everyone who returns from an extended period abroad goes through—a process of re-acclimating, recovering from jet lag, and generally gathering their thoughts. When you are a prodigal daughter returning to a busy-body family and a heavily interested synagogue community, of course, the process is hurried along a bit by well-meaning comments and the oft-repeated question: "so nu, what did you like the most?" This is usually followed by a deep breath from the person interested and then another series of questions peppered out at you like gunshots: "do you miss it? What do you like about being home? How was Australia, really? We're better, right? I mean, you don't want to move there or anything. Not that there's anything wrong with that, ha ha ha DON'T YOU DARE GO."

I don't have answers for all the questions (or really, any of them) but I have been compiling a mental list of the many things I miss (and a few things I don't) about life in Melbourne, Australia as a country, and my semester in general. Some of these things will make sense to you and some of them won't—I'm writing this as much as personal reminder as an informative post.

Things I Miss:

• Breakfast at Brunetti's: a little overpriced and in the entirely wrong neighbourhood, Brunetti's was always worth the early morning hike. We had to get there before 10:30 on Fridays to make sure we got breakfast, which was surprisingly difficult. Still, they had the best raisin toast and jam, even if Lauren's bagels always left something to be desired. It had some of the best baby-watching in Melbourne, and I don't care if that makes me sound like a stalker.
  
• St. Jerome's: we didn't go there enough, and I regret that. An awesome downtown open-air bar populated by a relaxed mix of cooler-than-thou hipsters, suits fresh from the cubicles, and students getting away from the campus bar scene, St. Jerome's is low-key, friendly, and has the best DJ on Thursdays. He is from SF, actually, and I sort of fell in love with him when he played Trick Daddy at our request. Also, the bar serves toast with vegemite, which is simultaneously disgusting and awesome.
  
• Unilodge at 339 Swanston, Apartment 708: BEST. VIEW. EVER. I could see the top of the state library from my bedroom (and y'all know how I feel about that building) and our living room looked out over the entire city. I would walk into the living room in the early morning before my roommates were up and watch as the city woke up below me. Also, apparently the windows are good for throwing things out of, but I've never tried that. Honestly.
• Degraves Alley: A fabulous little laneway tucked into the city between Little Collins and Flinders Street (I think - that area of town gets a bit mixed up), Degraves is home to the sketchiest train station, the only waffle place in the city and a collection of small second-hand shops, anarchist bookstores and bobo cafes. Its also dark, dirty and a little sleazy, like only the best parts of a city are.
• Prudence: I mean, really, who doesn't want to spend time at a bar where they provide you with the perfect combination of alcohol and boardgames? I was dismal at Australian Trivial Pursuits but the cocktails more than made up for that. Also, I think the person who chose the music every night must have lived in my brain at one point because I swear, they played the soundtrack of my life there.
• Queen Victoria Market: PRODUCE, PRODUCE, PRODUCE. My goodness, there's nothing like a huge farmer's market in a restored colonial building to make you want a little wheeled cart to pull around behind you and fill with glorious vegetables that will most likely never get eaten.
• The Indian place at Union: Best. Dahl. EVER.
• Melbourne Museum and the Royal Exhibition Building: the museum was sort of a mixed bag of experiences but I spent so much time there that I felt like belonged. Also, the REB is gorgeous and making it the destination of my morning runs almost made the exercise worth it. (Emphasis on "almost," because in the end, nothing could make running on asphalt "worth it.")
• Microwave experiments: You would be amazed at the number of things you can bake in a microwave, as long as you're thinking creatively. Amazed, I tell you.
  
• The trams: I love public transportation and I have a special place in my heart for a system built so charmingly and optimistically on the honor code. I mean, sure, there are ticket-checkers, but they're usually old and fat. If you were desperate, you could easily evade one or, worse case scenario, beat one up.
  
• Biscuits: Tim Tams, Mint Slices, Caramel Crowns, Anzac Biscuits - you name it, I ate it, and probably enjoyed it thoroughly.
  

Things I Do Not Miss:

• Unilodge at 339 Swanston Street, Apartment 708: thin walls, no heat (that puny wall unit doesn't count, especially because I didn't figure out that it was there until three months into the semester), and worst of all, no oven. How did Unilodge expect me to get through finals without the appropriate environment for my late-night procrastinating baking extravaganzas? I didn't make a single batch of chocolate-peppermint cookies or cranberry scones this past semester. Even Experiments in Microwaving couldn't fully rouse me from my ovenless doldrums.
• The ATM Outside of Unilodge That Got Broken Into At Least Once A Week and, Upon Those Weekly Occasions, Was Obligated to Ring an Alarm for Subsequent Hours, Usually Late at Night: enough said.
• Bureaucracy: small schools shelter you, and after three years at Emory I'd gotten soft. University of Melbourne was like being back at Berkeley High, only bigger, more anonymous, and with accents. I loved it, but I could do without the namelessness and the Chaplin-esque feeling of being a very tiny cog in an extraordinarily large machine."
• "Americker": it ends with an "a," not an "er." If you're going to criticize my country, at least get its name right.
• Implied rights: seriously, no bill of rights? No documented protection of the individual from the tyranny of government? Really? Okay, if you're sure. I know I'm like a broken record about this and everyone is probably sick to death of me harping on and on, but I just don't get it.
• Peanut butter; Or rather, Australia's inexplicable lack of appreciation for that most heavenly of confectionery combinations, peanut butter mixed with chocolate. I never thought I would miss a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup quite as much as I did.
• The Changing of the Trams: like the changing of the guard, but with fewer horses, lamer hats, louder noises and at at the ungodly hour of 3:00 AM. There is nothing like the sound of a tram being shut down and, as far as I could tell, physically removed from the track in front of your apartment to wake you up from a wonderful dream about frolicking with peanut butter cups.
  

These are just the highlights; there are many more germinating in my head that may or may not see the light of day. Stay tuned for the Best of My Return to Berkeley post, as well as future musings on my second-favorite secular holiday (I'll give you a hint: there are some truths, and I happen to hold them to be self-evident...).*

Also, I'm around in Berkeley, keeping myself busy with work and spending entirely too much time with my mother (who I dearly love and adore, etc. etc.) so if you're nearby and would like to hang out (or are far away but would still like to hang out and don't mind paying the airfare to do so) please drop me a line.

*In case you were wondering, my first favorite secular holiday is Thanksgiving, because how could I not love a holiday built entirely around the dinner table?

How Could You Let This Happen?

Apparently I was hit by the stupid stick and wrote "the Kind and I" rather than the more correct and understandable "King and I." But none of you thought to correct me. Shame on you.