1. My name is Anna Gesch, and I am addicted to SmartFood popcorn. I have the kind that's White Cheddar flavored and I literally can't stop. My fingers were covered in that cheesy residuey goodness and I licked them off like a redneck just now to type this blogpost. Yeah, that's right boys, this one is classssyyyy and singlleeee!
2. Cafe Ba-Ba-Reeba is the best place to eat dinner for a Sevillan girl like myself. This fine establishment is up in Lincoln Park, so we just hopped on the Green Line, switched to the Brown Line, and it was a block off of our stop (and in an adorable neighborhood). If you like sangria, delicious tapas, and bacon-wrapped-dates, this is for you. So that means it's for everyone. It was UNBELIEVABLE. We went with eight people for a 10:30 reservation (I felt so authentically Spanish eating that late) and ate and sipped to our hearts' content. I'm officially making my parents take me there if and when they choose to visit me. The picture below has extremely weird lighting, but these were three of the girls with whom I dined. It was bliss.
3. Help me, I'm poor. TFA, believe it or not, does NOT pay me during Institute. I get paid just like any other teacher when classes begin in August. This makes me, Miss Wedding-attendee-new-apartment-livee-new-city-slicker-extraordinaire, very hard up for cash. Plus, the craziness of this schedule impedes my ability to rake in the millions with my usual babysitting jobs, so I'm looking for every way possible to get some extra money. If anyone's looking for a kidney, mine's for sale to the highest bidder. I'll throw in some plasma if you want that too. I'm looking to finance a trip to D.C. for my brother's wedding, so you better offer top dollar for this. My organs are top sellers.
4. Samara lives on my floor. Now I don't know if you've ever had the tortuous experience of watching The Ring or not, but it is the one horror film that I just can never shake from my brain. When I was a sophomore in high school on a basketball road trip, once I was seatbelted in and the car was moving, my friends put it on the screen in the van and I had to watch it the whole way. It was terrible. And if you haven't seen it, Samara, the main character and CREEPY AS HECK girl, has LONG BLACK HAIR. And there are community showers here. And there is this long black hair clump that makes its way into the shower and sets up camp there. I honestly get the creeps erry day when I see it. And then I almost throw up a little because it's also really gross. And then I get creeped out again after the near-puke experience.
5. I'm living up to my childhood camp nickname. At camp in 6th grade a girl from another cabin called me "Raspy" because, inevitably, I'd lose my voice by Wednesday of every week at camp of my life, as a camper OR a counselor. I'm a talker, people, and it can't be helped. But teaching in front of 20 distractable 6th-graders during the day followed by nights of talking and lesson-planning with my collaborative followed by 4 hours of sleep all adds up to one raspy voice for me. I sound like an old construction man who decided that 60 years of chain smoking would be a fun activity to try. I'm trying to embrace the art of the whisper. I'm also going to try to drink gallons of orange juice to solve it as well, because when I was growing up that is what my mom prescribed for literally every physical ailment. If I complained to her about feeling sick or having a cold or being tired, she'd give me the "Well, did you DRINK ORANGE JUICE YET?" line and "the look" to accompany it because if I hadn't had any orange juice up to that point well then I really was completely to blame for being sick in the first place. Maybe she was right this whole time. I'll let you know how it works out.
So there's your five things. Week 3 (the last one!) of teaching Summer School awaits. I'm off to bed so wish me luck in finding that voice I keep losing before morning comes. She's a hard one to hang on to.
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