Ghiradelli

I was supposed to make banana bread this evening, but it didn't happen. Banana bread is one of the few foods I am able to make. Such a gourmet chef am I! I'm capable of: cookies, brownies, cakes from a mix, muffins, and the quintessential banana bread [okay, it's also from a mix]. However, my plans altered slightly to accomodate my brother's desire for brownies. Ghiradelli, no less. My father and brother have already attacked the brownies, so I set aside a large portion for their little excursion to CSW tomorrow. Katy has reserved several. I'll probably end up giving them to my Children's Garden kids. I'm not obsessed, I swear! I love those kids. It was Harrison's birthday last week, and I didn't have the opportunity to do anything for the kids yet, because it was public school vacation week. I have a print of a photo that I did on Friday that I need to give them, too -- of Harrison, Liam, and George at the cabin by the field. They are wonderful kids.My brother and I had an adventure taking photographs this afternoon. I needed to complete two rolls of film for class tomorrow: the first roll had to be focused on form and light, and the second roll had the themes of stranges, friends, chaos, authority, and UGLY DEVILS. We walked into CVS to buy a New York Times (which they apparently don't carry, the Boston elitists), and to look for some prime strangers to photograph. I had not walked any farther than the first aisle when we crossed paths with Rich. I nearly snapped a picture of him for the UGLY DEVIL category (take note of all caps), but decided against it. I feel uncomfortable photographing strangers, for the voyeuristic aspect of it -- even more so do I feel uncomfortable photographing my friend's ex-boyfriends who frighten me. I grabbed my brother by the collar, and we quickly ducked out of the store. Close call.I was photographing cars in the parking lot of Barnes & Noble (benign as they come), when a guy in a hooded black sweatshirt walked by, and said, "JEEZ!" He then darted away, and I never caught a glimpse of his face, however, I seriously contemplated using *him* as my UGLY DEVIL, although I don't breed them as ugly or as devlish as Rich.I need some strawberries desperately. Perhaps I'll host another fondue fiesta with Goo and Julia. Those strawberries were *good*.My father inconspicuously left a Dave Barry calendar anecdote at the side of my keyboard, with a little note attatched: "this reminded me of your stories about that kid from your school." See if you can pick out who he means by reading it.In TV commercials, sport utility vehicles are shown splashing through rivers, charing up rocky mountainsides, swinging on vines, diving off cliffs, racing through the surf, and fighting giant sharks hundreds of feet beneath the ocean surface. But nobody ever drives on an actual road. In fact, the interstate highways in Sport Utility Vehicle Commercial World, having been abandoned by humans, are teeming with deer, squirrels, birds, and other wildlife species that have fled from the forest to avoid being run over by nature-seekers in multi-ton vehicles barreling through the underbrush at fifty miles per hour.I will first state that I can't believe Dave Barry gets paid good money to say crazy things like that. Here are your clues as to the student in question: SUV, diving off cliffs, and underbrush at fifty miles per hour. ANSWER: Drew. My father always appreciates a good "look at how stupid Drew is" story. There are so many."Does anyone still wear a hat? I'll drink to that."~Jenn