1. Read 65 books
2. Read 20 000 pages

…If only the tablets at Mount Sinai could’ve been so concise, maybe things would be a bit easier? (Hell, I’d imagine that even if people lived by my two ‘commandments,’ things would rather be easier than this whole ’10 commandment’ nonsense). Now, of course, this is also the year when I entered graduate school (September 2008). I’d written those two objectives when I didn’t see graduate school as much more than an unrequited fantasy to further engage my bumbling scholastic aptitude in a semi-structured environment.

At any rate. I tracked everything: pages read (daily), pages read (cumulative), a floating average of five-day’s reading, average number of pages read (cumulative). Titles, authors, the number of pages in each book. And through the course of this ‘experiment’ (indeed, I’ve always tracked what books I’ve read, but nothing nearly so thorough), I found my reading habits began to shift.

First and foremost, I struggled to read as much as possible each day. The objective of having both (a) goal number of books, and (b) goal pages read was with the intention of preventing the consumption of many short books in lieu of longer works. I also found that reading the same book for hours each day was something I simply couldn’t do, and so I re-adjusted my focus: rather than reading in series, I began to read in parallel.

Notably, the interim period between finishing with undergraduate, and not yet knowing if I would continue to graduate school, was really the zenith of my intellectual career. I had copious amounts of time, was living with my parents (and thusly, the kibosh was put on my usual belligerence and debauchery), and had a fair amount of disposable income. I studied independently for a couple of hours each day, went to the gym compulsively, kept up correspondence with a number of individuals, and otherwise busied myself with a number of self-motivated goals. I look back on the period with general, gritty fondness, and really felt that I made productive (even if not particularly quantifiable) use of my time.

‘Parallel’ reading, then, is a habit I’ve since kept with. Rather than reading one book after another (‘series reading’), in a never-ending queue of literature, history, philosophy, theology, &c., I instead would immerse myself in a number of complementary works simultaneously. Each day, I would rotate through the batch numerous times, and this ultimately meant that I was (a) reading more, (b) comprehending and absorbing more, and (c) otherwise enjoying my reading to a greater degree.

Some of the clusters?
World War I:
The Great War – G.J. Myer
Storm of Steel – E. Junger
The Decline of the West – O. Spengler
World War I: A Very Short Introduction

Nietzsche:
Introducing Nietzsche
How to Read Nietzsche
Twilight of the Idols & The Anti-Christ – F. Nietzsche

Oh, and for those of you wondering?
I didn’t finish a book from September until December 2008, leaving my grand tally at 40 for the year (Compulsively, I feel I should note that the actual quantity read was probably up around 20 000 pages, simply in light of reading in graduate school. Much to my chagrin, graduate school has been an impasse to my personal intellectual development; I wonder who else has been tempted to leave their doctoral program under the auspices of not learning enough? However, reading a book cover-to-cover (the requirement to count it as ‘read’) was non-existent). And I read only 12 000 pages. C’est la vie.

For numerous of reasons, I have experienced, initiated, and been forced into a variety of deeply difficult, challenging, and invigorating life changes. From roughly March 2010 onwards, I’d fallen prey to an ever-increasing malaise and melancholy, a feeling of internal restlessness and dissatisfaction that permeated the most important things in my life: my relationships, my academic work, and my own sense of self. This depression – in every sense of the word: emotional, social, intellectual, psychological – feasted happily on me, and I – too lazy, stubborn, immature, and avoidant to adequately face it – found myself having my deepest core elements destroyed and shredded.

And now, here I am. I’ve relinquished my role as graduate student, for now, instead focusing on the process of self-healing and recovery. If it weren’t so emotionally excruciating and turbulent to experience first-hand, I’d find my existence and life now laughable and epitomizing everything I find wrong with so much of contemporary culture. I wind up having massages frequently, taking a pottery class, reading things that make me feel good (but make me think nothing). And mourning the loss of what I had, and have no longer.

That said, it’s not an entirely hopeless process. I’ve seen great strides in my capacities, and while my functionality doesn’t begin to broach what it has been, historically, I try to be patient and kind with myself (a behavior both unnatural and difficult for me). In the most simple manner, I am grieving and – rather than fight to silence every emotional reaction and thought – I allow it to happen, and let it go. Without being too reductionist, this has been a predominantly “Zen” experience; I’ve found myself turning increasingly to H.H. the Dalai Lama and many Buddhist writings to help navigate the inherent difficulty of my life right now.

This entry isn’t so much ‘woe-is-I,’ but more a rehashing of where I am (though admittedly in the vaguest terms possible). I’m not sure what’s next, or if there even is a “next” in any meaningful sense of the word. When I slept last night, I dreamed of joining the military and begging on the telephone and having my parents support me. I’m not sure where those dreams came from.

2-3 beef neckbones
1.25 – 1.75 lbs. stew-cut beef
1 x can regular coconut milk
1 x can tomato paste (12oz. size)
10 asparagus spears
1 large onion
2 turnips
2 parsnips
3-4 carrots
1 green pepper
1/2 cup finely-ground almond powder

Steps:

1. Put the beef neckbones into a slow cooker, add a little bit of water, turn on “low.” Add coconut milk and tomato paste. Cover.
2. Dice-up all of the vegetables (pepper, onions, turnips, parsnips, carrots), add to slow cooker.
3. Trim the fat and extraneous membranes from the stewing beef. Throw out trimmings, add beef to cooker.
4. Add 1/4 cup almond flour, stir into stew.
5. Leave covered, cook on “low” for approximately 8 hours/overnight.
6. Before serving, add the other 1/4 cup almond flour (stir into stew, as well).
7. Eat and enjoy!

The greatest part about this, besides how unbelievably awesome and tasty it is, is how paleo-friendly (or “natural food,” “bush food” or “caveman-diet”) the whole shebang is. It’s very, very low in high-impact/quick-digesting carbohydrates, and has a slightly sweet flavor (which complements the savoury very well). The Almond flour really thickens it up and gives it a great consistency.

8 January 2010:

1/3 sliced yellow onion
very lean beef steak
balsamic vinegar; lemon juice/lime juice
coarsely ground black peppercorns + kosher salt
asparagus
half-and-half
Hollandaise powder

Pierce steak multiple times, leave to marinate (balsamic vinegar, lemon/lime juice, pepper, salt) for at least 30 minutes. Cook on CuisinArt Griddler to desired completion. (Leah’s preference: “as rare as one’s conscious will allow.”)

Slice + sautee yellow onion until caramelized.

Simmer asparagus spears for 3(ish) minutes, dunk in cold water. Make Hollandaise powder (half-and-half (3 tbs) + powder) on stovetop. Serve with asparagus.

7 January 2010:

8 oz. ground lamb
1 large organic egg
1/4 diced yellow onion
2 tbs. green capers (jar)
1 tbs. coarsely ground mustard
1/2 clove minced garlic

It has parents & a face. Therefore, it is qualified for eating.

salt + pepper to taste
4 oz. Swiss cheese

Mix ground lamb, one large egg, diced onion, capers, mustard, garlic, salt + pepper in bowl. Form into patties (1 lb. made four evenly-sized patties for me). The more coarsely-chopped the onion, the better off this tastes.

Grill on CuisinArt Griddler (The Thinking Man’s George Foreman Grill).

When cooked through, remove, immediately place 1 oz of Swiss cheese onto each patty. Eat with additional coarsely-ground mustard. Enjoy!

PS. Lamb is also well-complemented with a sort-of spiced sour cream or greek (read: savoury) yogurt. Take 2 tbs. sour cream, some turmeric,  cumin, and coriander. Mix well, and serve on top of lamburger. Equally delicious !

• Reading/Intellectual

1. Read 60 books. (Defined as cover-to-cover (i.e., not selections), either electronically or physically. Historically, this has been limited to personal reading, but this year I’d like it to include academic-styled reading, as well: I read a tremendous amount for school, and it impedes my ability to read for pleasure. )
2. Cover 18 000 pages read  (Usually this goal is upwards of 20 – 25 000, but since I’ll be counting only books read to completion, 18k pages seems reasonable)
3. Read the entire New American Bible (I have a cheap-o pulp copy of it that I’ve been slowly chipping away at; I should really try to knock the whole thing off and finally be able to say I’ve read “The Bible” (TM))
4. Finally – finally – read the entirety of the Pevear/Volkhonsky translation of War and Peace (Constance Garnett ain’t got nothing on these two).
5. Do at least ten culturally-expanding activities (live opera, ballet, art exhibitions, etc)

• Academic

1. Get a 4.0 for one semester of graduate school
2. Study for, and pass, the Czech OPI
3. Study for, and pass, the Yiddish OPI
4. Start studying German, get to 1-year proficiency
5. Start studying Latin, get to 1-year proficiency (this, and German study, have both been a subject of discussion/joint studying desires between S. and I)

• Physical

1. Get back to my college weight (!) (Isn’t everyone’s NYR to lose weight?)
2. Run a 5k
3. Eliminate processed, starchy foods, and simple/refined carbohydrates as much as possible
4. Do a chinup/pullup, unassisted.
5. 200 photos, through the year, to document fitness progress (I want to make one of those creepy time-lapse videos…ooh).

• Relationships/etc. (Sort-of an ambiguous category for everything)

1. Keep exploring matters of faith, spirit, theology, philosophy, etc . …As best as I can, at least.
2. At least one social activity / week
3. Focus on self-improvement/help, through interrelationships, reading, meditation, and mindfulness
4. Branch out with new activities (I need to find a new hobby; ideally something physical)
5. Pursue a new, undiscovered craft or activity to meet people (rec sport, some type of gaming club, etc)

• Data Tracking (For the past few years, I have compulsive kept track of a number of different variables. I will keep doing this in an Excel spreadsheet)

1. Track books read, pages, cumulative pages read, various statistics
2. Track weight, body fat, nutrition, etc., as necessary
3. Track mood, anxiety, depression, cycle, etc. as necessary
4. Track financial expenditures, etc., as necessary
5. Keep track of 150 workouts

• Misc

1. Update this blog monthly (let’s say, every 5th!) regarding progress towards the above-stated goals/ambitions, data collected, etc
2. Take more damn pictures! Let’s see; how about 500 for the year of friends, activities, adventures, etc? …and post them to my flickr account (TBA)
3. Fill up my moleskine journal; keep plugging away at my good leather handmade journal
4. Ring in the New Year in Europe (2011 (!))
5. Travel to 5 new countries
6. Try to escape having to take on student loans for another year.
7. Have some kind of plan (i.e., PhD. applications, professional objectives, etc.) by the end of the year

In a way, the happiest part is that many of these goals are contingent on where I’ll be a year from now. I might be sitting in my apartment in the Midwest, or I could be carousing around Riga, Vilnius, Kiev, Prague, Bratislava, Bucharest, Belgrade, Moscow, Seville, Rome, Turin, Vienna, Berlin, Leipzig, or any number of places. And it’s sort of the most exciting part of it all.

A semester that started with the greatest of intentions just wore me out. As with every other semester, and every experience before, there was a lot to learn. Academically, my classes weren’t particularly rigorous: I’ve no idea of my performance, but it’s like between a 3.5 and a 4.0 (entirely acceptable, given the circumstance). However, my schedule just didn’t mesh well with my capacity for discipline, and I suffered for it. There weren’t classes on Mondays and Fridays, and on Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday, I went – more or less – from 1P until 7P, 5.30P – 9P, and 1P – 9.30P, respectively. And while this all sounds lovely, the fact is, I got very little done on my days off and found myself overly stressed and exhausted during those three days ‘on.’

For Spring 2010, I’m trying to get my schedule so that, say, I have Wednesday off – but have classes the rest of the week. This way, there is the impetus to go out (there is a terrible preponderance to stay at my apartment and read, doze, play XBox, etcetera) routinely. And I find that once I get out – to go to the class, or to study, or complete tasks – I am more apt to be productive and (perhaps even more important) to be efficient in my productivity.

I do owe a longer update, which will come very soon. In the most concise manner possible, though, here is my life in bulleted points:

1. I purchased a Kindle 2 from Amazon.com. I love it. I will write extensively on its arrival, use, etc. at a later date.
2. I am remaining in the midwest for the duration of winter holiday.
3. I have a “plan”  and very public project up my sleeves, presuming I can organize myself to the extent required for completion.
4. I am making a full-hearted venture towards getting myself back in shape, after months of disillusionment and laziness regarding fitness, nutrition, etc.
5. There needs to be some remarking about books, as well!

Until then, my friends, I say good evening – you shall hear from me soon.

*Presumed due to: funding, financial security, four-day weekends, etc.

In addition, and substantially far more suited to my particular needs and desires, is the introduction of the Kindle International, which is retailing now for $279 USD – and, most fantastically, supports wireless access in over 100 countries. Given that this purchase (if/when it occurs) will likely have international travel and research as an impetus, this development is wonderful. At the very least, I am planning on spending summer 2010 traveling and studying abroad (and perhaps even conducting research), and don’t have the capacity to bring another entire suitcase of books. In the ‘best case’ scenario, there is a distinct possibility that I may be abroad from May 2010 through August 2011, and therefore realize the necessity of a Kindle. Either way, it looks assuredly now that one is in my future.

As expected, the Times did a lovely short article (New Kindle Will Download Books Abroad), which has been at #1 on their “Most Read” list all morning.

Well. Strike that. There’s about two feet on the middle kitchen shelf that’s full of liquor bottles.

My love for reading is only secondary, really, to my love for books. It’s like a compulsion, the most nefarious bibliophilia, to constantly buy and squander all and every on acquiring more books. Realistically speaking, at a respectable pace of some fifty books per year, I have likely around eight years worth of reading accumulated in my apartment. And while my book buying habits have dropped off (as, frankly, my reading habits have also dropped off), so have my reading behaviors changed. I’ve been trying to avoid buying ‘pop’ books for some time, with the intent of ‘culling the herd’ a bit of its less cerebral and more useless qualities. Providing I can sweet-talk Amazon into re-instating my seller’s account, I’ll likely be pawning off as many books as possible.

And why, good reader, am I trying to thin out my books? (I mean, besides purging the more embarrassing items, I suppose?)

A Handsomely Dressed Kindle 2

Because I would like to purchase an Amazon Kindle. Well, a Kindle 2: it’s about 65% thinner than its predecessor, and has a more sleekly-designed case. It’s beautiful, or as beautiful as a device with a built-in QWERTY keyboard can be.

I can’t resign myself to spend $300 USD on an e-book reader, especially not one utilizing such a stringent DRM policy for books sold. (One need only scratch the surface of the internet (the Times does a reasonably good job reporting here) to find details on the recent news story about Amazon stealing back, in the middle of the night, customer’s purchased digital copies of 1984 – I ask, my friends, could there have been a better book to thieve?). I really prefer to own what I pay for: buying a book for ten dollars for what is, in the most general terms, a media rental makes me uneasy. And because there’s still a strong force of traditionalism coursing through my veins (I was the student always adament about completing paper applications, rather than electronic applications, for college) – I really don’t want to forego the physical aspect of reading.

All of this has ultimately lead to the mental creation of a binary, though not mutually-exclusive, system: there are readers, and then there are book-people. Of course, there are people who fall squarely into one category or the other: those who collect books for their bibliographic value, rather than the literary or intellectual content. And those who also read voraciously, but own few books – instead usually opting for libraries or other borrowing systems. But me? I straddle both. I’m that shaded, overlapping area in the Venn diagram of ‘book people.’ And please, hold me, because I don’t know where to turn.

Part of me can really see myself toting around an Kindle; it seems like the perfect covalescence of the technological lilt of my persona while mixing it with a classical information system (the book). I love the beauty and design of it. But I am also not sure how realistic I am about actual usage: I have shelves upon shelves of volumes that, were I interested in reading on the Kindle, would require re-purchasing in digital format (if they’re even available, another issue entirely). I love the feel of a book in my hands, the smell of the paper and ink, the noises the pages make and the heft of each volume. And I’m not quite sure if I’m ready to give that up, because there really is an emotional tie to this whole issue of e-reader versus dead-tree books.

The emotional entrenchment is what I think keeps most people reading paper books: there is an acute nostalgia to holding printed material. Books are (warning: sweeping generalization) the only technology that haven’t undergone any severe adjustments in the past five hundred years; their form hasn’t changed very much (save, maybe, not being able to buy the latest Jodi Picoult in half-caf Moroccan leather with gilt edges, but nothing’s perfect, yes?). Especially given the audience that a Kindle would appeal to (those for whom it would be, at the very least, something resembling a sound investment: $300 USD new, plus the cost of each book (although there are plenty of free titles, too!)) is likely to be that of a voracious reader. And those stodgy book-people, it should require no explanation how difficult a demographic they are to situate with new technology.

Kindle2's (Wonderful) Barcode

The only way I can rationalize owning a Kindle, then, is as a  supplement to my own paper-book reading now. Ideally, if I’m to disappear to Europe for more than 4 weeks, I’d imagine having a Kindle is of the greatest importance (I say this entirely seriously; living abroad in Prague saw me leaving – and returning, having increased my collection some 35% – with a full suitcase dedicated solely to books). At the very least, one warrants purchase by Springtime 2010.

Of course, the price tag – $299 + titles – isn’t paltry, either, especially on a student budget of <$20 000/year. So I’ve set up something of a strategy to afford one. My objective is to purchase a refurbished Amazon Kindle2 – they typically retail for 25% – 33% less than Amazon’s ‘new’ price -  and a carrying case (another $30 USD), and a protective decal ($15 USD), plus a handful of titles. So, let’s say, in sum, I’m looking at spending $325 USD for the whole megillah.

Along with this, I’ve told myself that I will be spending, out-of-pocket, no more than 25% of the cost of the whole package. To carry myself over on the rest of the cost, I will be doing a few different things, all of which reek of scams – but I think are well-worth it, given the cost of the item.

1. SwagBucks. This is basically a site that runs codes, its own search engine, games, and shopping. With each activity, one earns ‘SwagBucks,’ which may be traded-in for other things. Amazon.com electronic gift cards are available for $5 USD per 45 SwagBucks. I’ve been earning between 5-7 each day, and after about two weeks of casual use have enough for $10 USD to Amazon. It’s not much, but every little bit counts.
2. Change Jar. I took an empty plastic jar. And whenever I use cash (which I’m trying to do more frequently), I drop whatever change I have – including $1 USD bills – into the jar. I’ll cash this out at a CoinStar location, because they don’t take any ‘cut’ of the money if you use it on Amazon.com gift cards. If that doesn’t work, I’ll just do it the old fashioned way and wrap-and-roll my change, cash it in at the bank, and ear-mark it for use.
3. Surveyhead. Another online program; they administer 10-15 minute surveys based upon targeted demographics. I’ve earned, already, about $28 USD in the past three weeks, all of which will be converted into Amazon.com gift cards over the next week or so.
4. Misc. Windfalls. Any random money I come across, I’ll be taking a chunk and devoting it to The Kindle Project (TM).

It’s been a long time since I’ve actually saved-up for something. Usually my money is dumped, in mass, into whatever large item I’m coveting at a given time. But unlike, say, a netbook (portability and classwork), single-speed/fixie (transportation), or XBox 360 (replaced my cable television) … I can’t, in any sense, rationalize the purchase of an e-reader, short of it’s “Wow, that’s awesome/cool/beautiful/technologically advanced!”. Which means it is now firmly rooted in pragmatic savings, with the intention being to avoid out-of-pocket cost as much as possible.

Eagerly Awaiting the Lover's Footste...er, Kindle.

As a final note, I can’t help but to be profoundly jealous of the unadulterated joy that other Kindle users seem to express. All of the users (I mean that both as in, ‘owners,’ and those who are addicted to books, &c.) express a sheer pleasure at their device, which I am struggling myself  to understand. The Customer-Submitted images on the Amazon.com Kindle page are almost testament enough; the ‘Kindle People’ are like the weird subcultre of Roomba  fans who knit Roomba cozies and name the little iRobot creatures.There are a lot of personally-made and designed Kindle cases, suffice to say. And I really want that, because I buy – no pun intended – entirely into the idea of being happy, literally content and satisfied – with the acquisition of some material things. And while I’m not one for out-and-out conspicuous consumerism, there really is a lot to be said for living well, taking pleasure, and enjoying what one has.

I can’t wait to leave a sign like this on the door of my apartment. The affable African American UPS deliveryman, who calls me ‘Goddess’ and ‘beautiful’ (True story: whenever I yell, “Just a moment!” before answering the door, he always responds “Goddess, were you yellin’ for me to come in, goddess?”) will be the one to bring me my small, white, virginal electronic book. And I think it’s something I will take grand, pure pleasure in.

Getting the stipend checks was rather a rude reality-check (no pun intended) for me. I’ve never, in my entire life, seen my bank balance so high, and – to be honest – I doubt I will again for a long, long time. See, because even though I deposited thousands into my bank account, the sheer cost of existing (not luxuriously, not in any sort of over-the-top fashion) is painfully expensive. To maintain a modicum of normal, single life (that is, say, paying for rent, electricity, internet, groceries, insurance, bills, etc.) bumps me to around $1200 each month.

When I moved out here (with my father, who assisted), I had a car packed with my sundries: a large bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin, clothes, a few boxes of books (I shipped the rest at a cost of about $10/box), and a bicycle lashed to the trunk. Everything else, I bought out here: furniture, a bed, bookshelves, dishes, kitchen supplies. Everything. And while I arrived financially well-off (or as well-off as any incoming graduate student could be), it quickly disappeared. Outfitting an apartment for the first time, as it would turn out, is expensive! …And I didn’t manage my money well, whatsoever: I went to bars, out to eat (two of the biggest money-sucks in existence), and threw money around. By January 2009, I was flat-broke and living paycheck-to-paycheck.

Being a ‘professional student’ (that is, I am now paid to attend university and be a student, and receive the usual perks and upside to gainful employment: insurance, for instance!) does, of course, have its positives. And certainly that I don’t have to navigate the economy, or the job market, counts for something in these ‘troubled times.’ Most of my classmates from undergraduate are gainfully employed (the beauty of an engineering school is that, realistically, there are plenty of well-paying jobs to go around), buying houses, getting married, owning cars. Doing all of those adult things that I’m still adamantly avoiding so I can keep myself happily insular in my own little bubble of quiet academia.

And I’m hanging out in a one-bedroom, 400 square-foot bachelorette pad. The biggest ‘life event’ of the past few months is that I now, officially, own a car: it’s titled and registered in my name, in the great state of Indiana. (I even pay my own car insurance, she added proudly). My glorious, beater, 2001 dark-green Honda accord with banged-up bumpers and 120 000 miles: entirely paid for, and it’s mine. I officially have a true ‘asset.’ And much to my eternal chagrin, I’m considered too financially solvent to qualify for foodstamps.

So this is what being an adult is?

It’s 6.30 PM EST on a Saturday, I’m still in my pajamas, and have only just now gotten around to making coffee (French-pressed extra dark roast…lovely) and smoking hookah while catching up on blogs, news, reading, and scrutinizing the infinite task list I’ve compiled for myself. I slept until 3.30PM, which is all kinds of pathetic, though I was up very late watching ‘Cheaters’ (the television show, truly the paragon of intellect and scholastic genius), drinking tepid white wine, and eating popcorn. Last night I had a group of friends over, too, and we made peirogi (a grand cost to me of approximately $30, and a wonderfully great time) and socialized. It was really fantastic.

My courses this semester are predictable and, while intellectually strenuous, don’t look to be overly stressful. They are:

1. Czech II
2. Yiddish – I’m enrolled in ‘Introductory Yiddish,’ but will also be participating/attending private tutoring with the professor’s ‘Advanced Yiddish Readings’
3. Collections Development & Management
4. Jewish Bohemian Writers (a second-eight-weeks literature course); beginning 26 October

1. 4 slices of dry rye toast or VitaBiscuits
2. Very thin spread of Marmite
3. Laughing Cow spreadable cheese wedge. Either regular, French onion, or herb and garlic.
4. Cut-up bell pepper
   Var.:sliced, boiled fresh beets; beet salad (beets, onion, white vinegar, mustard powder, caraway seeds)

The Faux-Erudite

1. Fresh artichoke, steamed for 20 minutes
2. 2 tsp. packet of powdered Hollondaise sauce
3. 4 Tbs. half-and-half
   Var.: Bernaise sauce, out of the packet, also works as an edible substitute.

The Greek

1. 3-4 cups mixed baby spinach, romaine lettuce
2. 1 Tbs. olive oil
3. 1 Tbs. Balsamic vinegar
4. 1.5-2 oz. Feta cheese
5. Fresh-roasted tomatoes
6. Nicoise and/or Kalamata and/or dry-cured olives

Sorority Girl Special

1. Lean Cuisine/SmartOne microwave meal
2. Diet soda
   Var.: Crystal Light, water with lemon and/or lime

Poor-Man Benedict

1. 2 poached eggs
2. 2 tsp. Hollondaise powder
3. 4 Tbs. half-and-half

Living alone means eating the same four-six meals repeatedly. I guess these aren’t such terrible choices?