Franco-Japanese fusion

Tonight was grad student sushi night, by which I mean that between the hours of, say, 5:30 and 11 pm (and possibly still) a whole bunch of us prepared and consumed vast amounts of sushi. And soba noodles. And edamame. And, in my case, nori. We decided to replace Thursday drinking night with some other activity, since it turns out--shocking!--that as the term (I began typing "quarter" but stopped myself) progresses, brain cells had best be conserved.

For whatever reason, these Thursday night gatherings tend toward the all-female. Which is all the better when I'm determined to spend the evening with a tissue in one hand and a piece of seaweed in the other. Although among grad students, anything goes, so I doubt if coed-ness would have made much difference.

Tonight one of the other girls at the party informed me that she knew I had a blog, and asked me first what I do, which in my sudafed-fueled state confused me, but she then asked what I blog about, to which I answered "my innermost personal thoughts." I meant it to be ridiculous, but in a strange and incredibly dorky sense, it's true.

On an unrelated note, this has without a doubt made my day.