Christa's Celebration de la Chic

I have decided to start a new blog segment titled: Christa's Celebration de la Chic. The purpose of this segment is let you all in on the little "how-to" secrets of how I pull of this state of eternal awesomeness.

To pull of this lifestyle, you MUST stay up late working on crafts, so to stay in a constant state of befuddlement. Then bite off more than you an chew. I am currently in the midst of cooking extravaganza and helping with two parties with people I love. And I have to do my homework. And sleep. And craft. Woe's me, what a life, what a life. But now to business.

First, I will teach you how to open a bottle of wine.

Step 1: Insert archaic and ineffective wine opener around cork. Pull with all your might, revealing only a 1/4 inch of the cork. You will not be able to remove the cork any further.

Step 2: Cut off the visible cork with a knife. Repeat step 1.

Step 3: Shake the bottle up and down in hopes of shifting the cork a little bit more.

Step 4: Curse silently and then audibly. Repeat step 2. Repeat step 1. Repeat step 2. Repeat step 1. Repeat step 2.

Your wine bottle is now open. Carefully remove any shards of glass you may have grated off of the lip of the bottle. Proceed with drinking/cooking/serving.

Here are other tips from my Saturday morning projects:

Key Lime Pie:

To speed up the baking process, use a pre-fab graham crust from the store.

DON'T: Pre-cook crust as if you had made it from scratch, according to the directions. It will burn.

DO: Cover up the burnt crust with a thick layer of sweetened sour cream.

Sour Cream Pound Cake:

Add a little lemon zest to brighten the flavor and make this dessert a bit summery.

DON'T: Grate the part of the lemon with the sticker on it. This will add adhesive and plastic to your dessert.

DO: Carefully pick out the plastic bits to prevent poisoning of beloved guests.

Homemade summer dresses:

Whip up a quick dress to flounce about the fields and evoke images of Little House on the Prairie 70's summer style.

DON'T: Sew on back straps while they are twisted and not aligned*. Also, don't sew the back of the dress to the front.

DO: Re-do the straps, um, 6 times until they are correct.

*This step should only be attempted after straps are initially attached and worn out in public. You will find that you did such a poor job of fixing them to your dress that the slightest movement will cause them to release their tenuous hold and leave you vulnerable in your moment of need.

I tossed a lucky coin, that never came down

I blame my brother.

And my childhood dreams.

I love being on stage. I know, I know - you are shocked into silence by this daring confession. No, it wasn't my domination over all my friend's birthday parties, trying to choreograph our play time or the hundreds of plays I forced the Nam girls (bless them), siblings, family members, friends to act out with me, that brought this revelation to the forefront. It has been playing with my brother's band, finally (finally!!) being on a real stage that I discovered all my imaginings were rooted in reality, growing in the extroverted soil of my soul. I love to perform. Alas, it will end too soon but secretly I hope that while I am at nursing school Dan's band will skyrocket into stardom and I can tour with them, with my security career safely established. For now, I continue to scribble song lyrics no one will hear on scraps of paper no one will see (except my brother, he's a gem. I write brilliant lyrics but actually can't write a song. I am like a musical sous chef, the garnish to a songwriting souffle: I can adorn and assist but rarely comprise the true substance of a thing).

Next Charlotte Show: May 4th, Snug Harbor.

Peek of the Week

I have been wanting to do this a long time: participate in peek of the week. I have soooo many projects happening at a time but nary a camera in sight. This week, however, I managed to grab a few pictures (albeit poor pictures) of my latest project.

My dear friends Carman and Emmy are getting hitched. Emmy and Carman were fellow volunteers at La Puente back in the day and we all shared many an adventure and many a spaetzle together. There are so many wonderful things about these two people and simply not enough room to share it all, but to say they are

one of a kind. The wedding date is in August and the theme is rustic/barn/garden = awesome. Emmy asked me a few months ago if I thought I could replicate a vintage seed-packet for their invitations. I had never tried an art project (at least onet that people besides my mom and dad would see) of this type before and was a little nervous. But I am so pleased with how it turned out, if I do say so myself.

Today I have an unexpected day off. To make things even better, I actually woke up feeling refreshed. I also found the secret to fluffy, delicious whole wheat pancakes (3/4 cup whole wheat flour, 1 egg, 2 full teaspoons of baking powder, 2 Tablespoons of butter, 1/2 cup - ish rice milk until right texture, zest of 1/2 a lemon, a smattering of cardamom. The secret is less flour, more egg and more baking powder). Now I am sewing yellow flowers and planning a library trip. Maybe I will sit outside and read. Probably do some homework too.

Okay, we all know I am allergic to the world, something I keep trying to deny. But try as I might, I just can't ignore it any longer. But some new diet adjustments (ugh), acupuncture, and sleeping with socks on my hands (yes, like an infant) has finally made some improvements. Over the weekend, something triggered something and it looked like my hand had been burned. I was stumped. So I wrote an alternate version of reality. Ahem.

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She had always had a spot on her right hand, a little patch of scaly skin. When she was younger, she remembered being surprised that everyone didn't have one. She would go from palm to palm looking for scales. That was before she learned to be embarrassed by it. Now she favored her left hand, keeping her right delicately hidden. Thankfully gloves were always in style and she was clever with her fingers, so she rarely need two hands for any task. Of course, everyone still knew she was different. Nobody forgot.

Things had remained the same for a long time. Except now, suddenly, they were different. The change happened when she was helping her mother at church. It was a Wednesday evening, right before the mid-week meeting. She was helping to prepare communion, a task that did require two hands and no gloves. At least, she always consoled herself, it could be done in private with just her mother present. As she pulled off her glove she let out a small gasp. "My word!" exclaimed her mother. The girl held out her hand, staring at is as if she had never seen it before. The one dry patch had spread all across her palm and up to the tip of each finger, a glaring red. She couldn't account for the change. She tested the movement of each of her fingers, which pulsed with their inner fire. "What did you do to yourself?" her mother growled, grabbing her arm and dragging her to the sink. The girl numbly allowed her hand to be drenched in cool water, but the pulsing remained. After a while her mother turned off the water and continued to stare at her hand. "Well, there is still work to be done and I can't have you helping with this..." She let her sentence hang in the open space. "Sit here until I return for you." The girl sank to a stool, now clutching her hand to her chest. It felt better there. The throbbing was less painful and more interesting.

She didn't know how much time had passed. The throbbing of her hand had entered her brain and lulled her into a daze. She stood and tried to shake it off, but to no avail. She went to the window and loosened the latch to open it, keeping her right hand tight against her. The air felt hot and dry, not offering an ounce of refreshment. She leaned further out onto the sill, hoping to catch any fragment of a breeze. Impulsively she held her pulsing hand out into the air, not caring who saw the glistening scales that had begun to form. She closed her eyes and she felt the heat embrace her hand and then the throbbing stopped. She opened her eyes and saw her hand was pressed up against the nose of ... a dragon. They gazed at each other for a moment as she noticed her hand matched the dragon's scales perfectly. Her foreign hand was finally resting someplace where it looked natural. As natural as it could look, touching a dragon that was cozied up to the church's back window.

Of course, her mother returned precisely at this moment. The girl was sure her mother's scream would echo in the heavens forever. She looked at her mother and then back at the dragon. Without any hesitation, she tucked up her skirt and climbed out the window, never lessoning her grasp on her dragon. She slid her hand onto its neck and vaulted herself onto its back. Her mother ran to the window with a small cry. The girl smiled back at her wistfully and then buried her head into the dragon's neck as it took flight. Together they soared over the church steeple and into the hot blue sky, where the girl finally belonged.

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Okay, this story has nothing at all to do with my reality but I enjoy thinking that maybe a dragon will show up to make my day just that much more interesting.

Still haven't left the house...

Half Day

My Fridays are ambiguous. Sometimes I have to be at work, sometimes not. Sometimes I pretend to work and sometimes I really do work. And sometimes I lay in bed as long as possible to avoid the work I know I need to do. That is today. I probably woke at 8 but lay in bed reading until 10 (finished my book; it was good). Then breakfast (porridge with blackberries - I am truly eliminating the bad from my diet in hopes my hands will heal. So far so good) out on the porch swing, a new book, reading emails, and now blogging to avoid leaving the house. Soon I will jump up in a flurry of activity and run like a mad women to begin what should have begun long ago. Then I have to do alllllll of my homework (read 5 chapters, take a test on those chapters, read another chapter, take a quiz, write a short paper about food and exercise, read 3 more chapters) that I have been avoiding and then I fall into Saturday, with a sigh of relief. This Saturday I have marked on my calender, indelibly, as a craft day. I must finish my watercolors for Emmy and Carmen's wedding and, hopefully, make some sense out of the fabric madness that has encompassed my bedroom floor. I feel like these will be the last days of serious crafting for me as I head to nursing school and want to finish baby gifts, random projects, and all birthday, Christmas, and wedding gifts before June. Right. That being said I have already double booked myself with some frisbee and a possible picnic. Conundrum. There could be worse fates for a Saturday.

Awkward

I am at Amelie's finishing a paper, late at night. The seat I selected is hidden behind a curtain. On the other side of the curtain is a sofa. On the sofa sit two young lovers, who do not realize how close I am to their whispering heads. I am trying not to eavesdrop, but their ridiculousness is invading my homework space. Please, get a room.

I love to read, probably more that anything else. I cannot leave a library without feeling wonderful. This spring I have had the great pleasure to read many books, squeezing a chapter into every spare minute. Sometimes I feel bad that I don't read more high-minded books, that, you know, teach you things. But I have decided to take my own advice and own it. I love novels. I love a good story and it doesn't matter what form it comes in, I will devour it. My current reading pile includes Piratica, Piratica II, Dragonhaven, Chalice, (yes, all YA Fantasy) and one adult book called Shadow Tag. I just returned another Madeline L'Engle book (I have read four or five in the last month) and North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell, which was a marvelous read. I have a girl crush on Elizabeth Gaskell. It's going to be a good Saturday.

"The Wee Wonderfuls."

"The Weed Wonderfuls?" The librarian queried, raising her eyebrows at me.

"No, Wee, Weeee!" I responded emphatically. Her eyebrows rose higher, which I actually didn't think was possible.

"Hmmm." She was clearly questioning my sanity and my taste in literature. I already had a hefty tome, The Forgotten Arts & Crafts, clutched in my hands (what a find!), which did not improve my credibility as a non-crazy reader. We finally tracked down this new book, which is a book on doll making. Not creepy dolls - sweet patchwork dolls and cats and bears that are so lovely. I have been itching for the week to be over so I can get to my sewing machine. Today I arrived home from my exhausting week and immediately traced out 11 pages of patterns until I ran out of tracing paper (I have two more patterns I want to trace!). Now I must put these things aside and clean my house, which is disgusting, and do my homework, which is neglected, and sleep, because I am very tired. But soon (!) I will get to my patterns. You all will receive dolls, bears, or cats (or pillows, I like to make pillows too) from me for all birthdays, celebrations, and housewarming gifts. I know you are excited.

I am also sporting a great left-arm driving sunburn because I have logged about 325 miles in my car this week, driving to every single school in Mecklenburg County. I don't want to talk about it.