Rococo Cocoa

The other day I visited my mother and father, who live on Memory Lane- well its not actually called memory lane, but for me it is. Whenever I go there, I do a couple of things: I make sure to I fill up on as many mom-made Haitian goodies as possible (otherwise I'd have to visit way more often....... too catty?) Anyway, she gladly cooks anything I want, as long as it's oily and fattening.

Like I'd ask for anything else.

This time, she made boullion soup, but at other times, I've gotten family sized portions of poule corniques et pois (cornish hen and peas) to Sauteed beef in brown rice to fried plantain (which doesn't sound fancy but its tasty!) She probably wouldnt mind it if I ended up looking like Biggie Smalls' heavier brother. But I resist (as much as I can.)

The other thing I do is go to my old bedroom (or, the memory closet, if you will) to see if theres any crap I can take out of there to add to the mountains of crap I have in my apartment. I was looking through a box and I found this sketchbook from highschool:



It looks like I did all this art around junior year of HS. Not too shabby. I seemed to be really into crosshatching. In this book, however, was a really detailed drawing of Trent from Daria. Which, I mean, was correct in it's movie like foreshadowing. Also in this sketchbook: really awful, and I mean REALLY AWFUL poetry. You'll never see it if I have anything to say about it.

PS. REALLY AWFUL.