My train of thought has become disastrously derailed Sunday, March 22, 2009My grade school was Catholic and therefor everyone wore uniforms, which was nice and boring. Hot lunch was only served twice a week (Tuesday always being pizza day, horrible, terrible sheet pizza that was not worth the $2 it cost), sometimes they would also make the most awful mac and cheese I've ever tasted. It was horrific, noodles reduced to the consistency of mush and oily cheap cheddar cheese served in a small styrofoam cup. I would like to know who the fuck was running that kitchen. They were also crazy about everyone drinking their milk, like stand over you and make sure you finished every last sip out of that damn cardboard box. Absolutely frightening women they were.
I can remember that at some point, 7th grade I believe, they decided to do away with those cardboard waxy boxes filled milk and were going to switch to milk in a bag. Seriously, MILK IN A BAG*. What looked like a zip lock bag filled with milk. You would stab the bag with a sharp little pointy straw, similar to the way you would stab a Capri Sun (although I wouldn't know because my mother refused to buy that damn sugar water), stab it anywhere. Oh, but make sure your thumb was over the top of the straw or it would be a milk explosion with a fountain of milk spraying forth from the un-capped end. There was also a video they made us watch about the milk in a bag, hey no sex ed or anything resembling a real health class but you will watch a 10 minute video about milk in a bag. There was a horrible song that was in the video and to this day most everyone who I went to school with can remember at least part of the lyrics and only because they were sooo lame. "Mini-sips are MAXI cool." Really? Ugh.
My family was never big on milk so thankfully except for that one quarter at gradeschool when I asked to have it I never had to drink it. Frankly I never understood why people liked it so much. Oh I know all the crap about strong bones and shit but personally I've got large, dense bones inherited from my mother. My sister on the other hand has bird bones, they are just so tiny and delicate. Her rings only fit halfway down my pinky fingers but I would like say that my hands aren't scarily large. It isn't as if I've got hands the size of those giant foam sports fingers attached to my wrists, they are just larger that my sister's hobbit like bones.
I much prefer a glass of iced tea for dinner or water, those were our options. Water or tea. Granted I've now expanded that to include alcohol but I'd say that most days I still prefer water or tea.
At this point I've rambled so far off the original point and purpose of this post that I've completely forgotten what the hell I was trying to express in the first place. Shit. Total shit writing and narrative on my part, although hopefully better than my last post which was clearly a dud except for my bit of exclamation about men in kilts.
And since I've totally fucked this up already I would like to mention that I am completely obsessed with the British show Top Gear. I'm currently watching a marathon on BBCAmerica and it's awesome. It looks like so damn fun, they curse, drive awesome cars, and I desperately would love to do their time test. Go watch it.
*I have been informed by some relatives that milk in a bag is very common in Canada. That may be true, but for Americans it is quite a odd concept.