Sunday night Scott requested a grilled cheese; I was bored and hungry so I gave it a shot. I had never made a grilled cheese before, so I had to check what the internet had to say on the topic before I could start making the sandwiches. Of course, once I was ready, I found out we had limited cheese remaining, but I pushed ever onward in the grilled cheese process.

Despite under−buttering one sandwich side, ignoring the grilled cheeses while one slice of bread on each sandwich burnt, and using what seemed to not be enough cheese, the sandwiches turned out well. If we had enough cheese, I’d make another one sometime.

Ever elated with my cheesy victory, I decided to try making some cookies last night. I looked online for a recipe, which confused me about the use of baking soda, which despite containing the word "baking" sounds like an item one would wash dishes with. So, I checked the baking soda box and found the same recipe. Somehow we had all the necessary ingredients, so I started mixing stuff.

Now, before making the cookies, I wondered why I never found chocolate−chip cookies without the chocolate chips. I found out why after tasting my cookies. They were very plain without the chocolate chips. Luckily, we can learn from our mistakes…

…Mistakes like making the lumps of pre−cookie material on the cookie sheets too large. As you can see in the photos, the cookies became essentially one massive, boring cookie.

In spite of the errors, I’m still proud of my first cookie−baking experience. If I ever feel the impetus to bake some cookies again, I’m pretty sure I’ll make a pretty mean cookie.

Friday night was one of my rare weekend nights spend at the apartment. I had a hockey tournament Saturday and Sunday, so I had the night to sit around and do anything else stupid I wanted to do.

Luckily, I wasn’t the only one at the apartment. Kat and Scott had disappeared, but Matt was still there. A couple months prior, Matt learned I had never made a snowman, so we tried to make one and failed. However, according to Matt, the snow Friday night was better suited to making snowmen than last time, so we tried our hands at it again.

He was a little misshapen, but I think he came out well.

This morning, beginning at 6:00 a.m., second−year students could register for classes for the spring quarter. As I did last quarter, I woke up at 5:55 a.m. and readied myself for registration.

Around 6:40 a.m. I realized the process was fruitless and decided to wait until later since I couldn’t log into SIS via any method I tried. So I set my alarm to the time I usually awake on Mondays and went back to sleep.

At 9:00 a.m. I woke back up and magically registered for all the classes I planned on registering for. My schedule for the spring quarter is online here.

At the Sabres game Friday night, Sabretooth shot shirts out of his shirt cannon, per usual. Everytime they do this I think something along the lines of , It’ll be a cold day in hell when one of those lands near my seat. So, this time, hell showed me up and a shirt landed near my seat.

While in transit to the shirt’s landing spot, the shirt squirted right through the hands of another spectator (butter-fingers). It then bounced off of a seat in the row behind my seat and landed directly behind me.

After watching the shirt land behind me I turned around (I was seated during the shirt launching, like usual) and grabbed the shirt, narrowly beating the lady a couple seats to the side of the shirt. Lucky for me, the ticket-holders of the seats one row behind me were out gallivanting during the period instead of waiting for the intermission like real fans.

Because I was just so happy about getting the shirt, I wore it today. In the future, I’ll probably wear it under my equipment during roller hockey games (assuming it’s 100% cotton).

I found this spider in my room last night. It creeped me out. At first, I thought I was just imagining it when I saw something black scurry alongside my sneaker. Then I left my bedroom, came back, and saw it run into an open space.

This thing was a monster—relatively speaking. From the tip of its front leg to the tip of its rear leg was about one inch. Plus, it was furry, black, and gross.

So, I did what any self–respecting person would do: trapped it under a bowl. After all, I needed to have photographic evidence when I told this story to friends. I still fear for the safety of the bowl, however.

Shortly after taking some photos, I stuck a sheet of glossy photo paper underneath the bowl and transported it to a local toilet where I flushed the beast.