Mysteries of my adult life.

The following is a list of information and knowledge that continues to evade me, despite my grown-up body and highly-educated mind. Why do men smell simultaneously gross and fascinating, and why do they seem utterly unaware of this fact? My father, expecially. As an adolescent, I constantly purloined my fathers' short-sleeved work shirts, but ultimately returned them due to the comforting, but all-pervasive, musky odor. Why do I hoard things like papers, books, fabric? Why do I still try on boys' last-names like a middle-school girl? What makes the kitchen so comforting? When I have a house of my own, I will make the kitchen open to the living room, like in the second house I lived in. For me, the kitchen is where it all happens. At all the best parties I've been to, there were constant replenishings, new things being brought out, etc. Why not make them the same place? Lots of wonderings the past few days, lots of work being done, lots of printing. Right now, I'm working on pot-holders that look like matzo, and am going to make an apron that says "My Knish Is Delish" and big ol' matzo-looking quilted pockets. It's my personal armor for next monday's crit, and I'll probably cook something K for P for my classmates, since a huge part of my personal armor ("Oh please don't hate me") is feeding people. Hag sameach! Happy passover!