This Entry Concerns Bagels

I'm in a 'bagel' phase right now. For the past seventeen days, I've had a bagel for breakfast. Not always an entire bagel (sometimes I split with Delma or Conor). Not always a plain bagel (I'm particularly digging sesame seed bagels). Not always with cream cheese (a bagel dunked in coffee is, honestly, better than a donut). But, in some capacity or another, bagels have been a part of my life for the past couple of weeks.

There's a restaurant called "The Bagel" in Lakeview. I don't particularly like their bagels, but they have the best matzo ball soup I've ever had. To be completely honest, it's also the only matzo ball soup I've ever had, but I love it and anytime I get sick, I go and order a large matzo ball soup and I sip it slowly and carefully and I can feel the warmth of the matzo ball soup radiating throughout my limbs, filling me with matzo ball life. I have a cold right now and I plan on going to "The Bagel" when Delma gets back from work. I'm going to have her carry me all the way down there. Because I'm sick. And I deserve to be treated like a princess.

There's a old lady who lives in our building that owns a beagle. That beagle's name is Bagel and it's the cutest beagle I've ever met. So nice and friendly. The lady walks Bagel the beagle 6-8 times a day. Seriously, it's like every time I look out the window, she's there, walking Bagel the beagle. I do my best to avoid her. I feel bad, because she's nice and because Bagel's the cutest, but if I say hi to her, she'll ensnare me in a conversation about the most inane topic for 10-15 minutes. Delma and I have timed these talks. I'm sure she does it because she's lonely and craves human interaction, but I'm a jerk and just want to get on with my day.

I used to live a couple blocks from an Einstein's. I loved going there and getting a chocolate chip bagel and a cup of fruit. It was my morning ritual when I worked from home. There was this one Filipino lady who worked there who always had a smile on her face. All the other workers would be sassy and give me looks whenever I walked in because I look like a bum, but she was so friendly. And she knew my order. I don't know if we'd be considered friends, but if there was a fire and that Einstein's started burning up and I only had time to save one person, it'd be her.

The best bagels are supposedly in New York City. The best advertising jobs are supposedly in New York City. Is that a coincidence? Yes. It is.

Why does New York City have the best bagels? I don't know.
Do I want to move to New York City? I don't know.
Why do I keep referring to New York City as New York City? I don't know.

The best bagel I've ever had was at a German breakfast restaurant in Mexico. It was so soft and moist. It was like biting into a cloud. Mmm. A cloud slathered with cream cheese and sprinkled with sesame seeds.

The worst bagel I've ever had was at a Best Western in Marion, Arkansas. It was incredibly dense and dry. It was like biting into a four-day old bagel. Because that's probably what it was.

When I lived in Sacramento, I found this bagel chain called Noah's and their bagels tasted exactly like Einstein's bagels and I was like "Whoa, guys. This is taking it too far." Turns out they're owned by the same company.

I have a funny story about donuts. But I'm not going to tell it because this entry is about bagels and I'm not going to break the rules for you. Jerk.

Everything bagels scare me. How can the bagel be everything? If the bagel is everything, does that mean I am the bagel? And if I am the everything bagel, that means that I am you and you are me and we are the same. We are the same being. And if we're the same being, then... What is individuality? Does it even exist?

These are the questions that the bagel road leads to.

"Are there bagels in heaven?" is another question down the bagel road.

I had a bagel this morning, but I want another bagel, but the best bagel restaurant close to me closed at 2pm and it's 4pm and I'm sick and I want to sleep, but don't I deserve a bagel because I'm sick?

Philosophical Bagel. That'd be a cool rapper name.

Ear Wiggin' Out

There's this bagel placed that supposedly sells New York-style bagels. I've never had a New York-style bagel, but I love this place. Then again, my idea of a good bagel is Einstein's, so what do I know about bagels? For all I know, I could be eating a stale doughnut, but since it's slathered with honey-cinnamon cream cheese, I love it. Love love love it. Mmmm MMM. So good.

This place that supposedly sells New York-style bagels also sells really strong coffee. Like, coffee so strong that the first time I had some, I started freaking out because my heart would not stop racing. Thought I was having a heart attack.

I'm an avid coffee drinker. I usually have one or two cups a day, but this place that supposedly sells New York-style bagels sells pure caffeine-water. This morning, I knew what to expect so I only ordered a small coffee, but I am still ridiculously hyper. Like, so hyper that I can't focus on work. I just want to DANCE, y'all. Just leave my troubles behind and dance the night away with my dog. Do the doggie bounce. Doggie two step. Two step dub step. JUST LET ME DANCE.

You know what I like? The bass dropping sound in dub step. It's like something crazy is about to happen. Like, hold on to your lower intestine because the shit is about to go down, you know? I bet that sound could accompany anything and make the act amazing. Doing the dishes? BASS DROP NOW YOU'RE BREAKING SHIT THROUGH THE WALLS. Brushing your teeth? BASS DROP NOW YOU'RE SMASHING THE MIRROR WITH A HAMMER. Walking your dog? BASS DROP BITCHES NOW YOUR DOG IS A WOLF.

Wow wow wow wuhhhhhhh.

Delma got a slow cooker for Christmas and it is seriously the gift that keeps on giving. We've been using it for everything. We've made salsa chicken, brisket, BBQ chicken, mashed potatoes and we're currently making some roast beef right now. How did we live life before slow cookers? My life was meaningless and now all I want to do is slow dance with my slow cooker. Well, Delma's slow cooker.

My hands smell like garlic because the roast beef recipe called for garlic. Google told me to use a stainless steel spoon and rub it on my fingers to remove the smell, but it didn't work so then I tried using lemon juice, but that just stung like a honey bee cause I have cracked hands because of the cold so then I just washed my hands again. They still smell like garlic, but with just a hint of lemon. I just hope the smell doesn't permeate my keyboard. I'm not too fond of garlic. I'm a vampire, y'all. A vampire that just wants to dance.

It was a cool 7 degrees yesterday. With wind chill it felt like -2. NEGATIVE TWO. Also, it snowed. And I still biked to school. And it was awesome. You can feel the boogers freezing in your nostrils. I actually overdressed for the ride and I got a little worried because I started sweating a lot and, in those temps, my hair could have frozen. Which would have been cool for a bit, but then it would have sucked. Today is supposed to be better (Low 20's or so) so I'm probably going to bike again. I don't challenge myself often in life so I'm glad I did it (even though it wasn't much of a challenge with three pairs of pants and two jackets).

Snow snow snow snuhhhhhhhh.

Over the break, I used a Q-Tip. This may not seem like a big deal, but I hadn't used a Q-Tip in nearly four years. I just kinda stopped one day. No real reason. Anyways, like a big fat IDIOT, I jabbed the Q-Tip directly in. You're only supposed to use it to swab the outer edges of your ear, you know? But, again, like a big fat IDIOT, I just jammed it right into my ear. Stuck it in there like sticking a plug into an outlet. Next thing you know, I hear this FHHHSOOOWMP and then the bass dropped. No, just kidding. I heard that FHHHSOOOOWMMP and then I couldn't hear anything out of my right ear. I pushed the ear wax into my ear hole and jammed it up. Like a big fat IDIOT.

I didn't do anything for a few days, just hoping it would go away, but it didn't. Around the fifth day, my jaw and ear started hurting so I asked my mom to help me out. She poured some hydrogen peroxide into my ear and I heard a lot of crackling and popping. Like if there was a Pop Rocks party happening in my ear canal, banging on my ear drum. You know how it is.

When that didn't work, she took a paper clip, jammed it right into my ear and started scarping earwax out. She got a good chunk of it out of there, but I still couldn't hear so off we went to the doctor.

The doctor took his ear scope and jammed it right into my ear. Then he said "Ew… You definitely have a blockage. We're going to try to wash it out and if that doesn't work, we'll go from there." He called in the nurse who called in another nurse who called in ANOTHER nurse just so they could all see the huge blockage in my ear.

Then another nurse came in with what looked like a water gun. And she jammed it right into my ear and started squirting hot water all up in there. It felt weird as hell. Like, you know that feeling when you have water in your ear and then finally the water comes out and it's all warm in there? It was like that, but longer. She does this for fifteen minutes with little pieces of earwax coming out here and there and Kayla and my mom constantly saying "Oh my Gooooood…" Finally, this huge chunk of earwax falls into the bowl on my shoulder. It makes a loud PLOP and the nurse says "There we go."

And that's the story of how I spent my Christmas break. Like a big fat IDIOT.