Get out of the city and into the sunshine.

Some pictures, including but not limited to: pie, fourth of july indoor picnic, cute kids in a furniture fence, my summer CSA produce (veggies galore!!), and a pretty mystery plant...does anyone know what it is? It came in my CSA bucket but I am dumbfounded.

July may just kill me. I have a crazy full schedule, wrapping up a whirlwind summer semester, and a lovely full social schedule. School applications are due, Amy is coming, Laura is home, a weekend trip to Atlanta and Asheville, final exams and projects! But it is all wonderful.

Final day at Whole Health: Friday the 13th. That's funny.

New top school: Georgetown! Could DC be my new home for the next four years?

Highlight of the day: CSA box came with rhubarb and I made a fantastic rhubarb jam, which I served with a ricotta pound cake at my chemistry study group. It was delicious and I can't wait to have it for breakfast. (Mmmm cake and jam for breakfast!)

Summer is buzzing by like a fly on a ... well, like a fly flying by. I guess.

Went on a hike, got a blister, walked the last 6 miles in my socks. Awesome.

School is great. Crazy, but great. Its the first time in a long time that I actually feel really good at something.

I am watching a Lady Gaga interview on Fuse (yes, yes I am) and I am kind of obsessed with her because she is ridiculous. She takes herself SO SERIOUSLY. I am like, dude, I think you are wearing part of an old bike or maybe its a trombone around your neck as jewelry, how can I listen to you say phrases like, "The music belongs with the people." Really, with the people? Good to know.

Other favorite phrases:
I have not yet defined my aesthetic.
Was I tormented in HS? Yes.
I'm a closer.
To me, music is a spiritual experience.
Its the yang to the yin of fame.
My little monsters (fans), I know what they need (referring to giving them pieces of her old wigs).
My show is like an exorcism.

I mean, it all sounds a little cliche for someone trying to be so original. Nothing personal, Lady Gaga, you just make me laugh.

"I don't know what happened in your life that caused you to develop a sense of humor as a coping mechanism, maybe it was a leg brace or corrective boot in your childhood, but anyway I am glad you are on my team."

-30 Rock

Yeah, that's me. Leg brace, kickball season, 4th grade. Let the riotous laughter begin.

Shirley Maclaine in Steel Magnolias is the most amazing thing ever.



Ever.

"In a spirit of mutinous resistance, she climbed the steep, grassy slope to the bridge, and when she stood on the driveway, she decided she would stay there and wait until something significant happened to her. This was the challenge she was putting to existence - she would not stir, not for dinner, not even for her mother calling her in. She would simply wait on the bridge, calm and obstinate, until events, real events, not her own fantasies, rose to her challenge, and dispelled her insignificance."

- Atonement

Last night I dreamed I was in the 1800s at a large party for Harriet Beecher Stowe, who I was, apparently, obsessed with. To show my affection, I made her a cake, a spicy Stowe cake. I can't recall all the details but the event was some sort of conference where I really had no place being. I slipped up to Stowe, told her how wonderful I thought she was and that if she had time, I had made her a cake. It wasn't until the end of the night that she declared she wanted some cake, so I whisked up the stairs (in my ball gown complete with hoop skirt), cut her a generous slice of cake, and topped it with Devonshire cream. And then, with everyone watching, she took a heaping bite...and loved it. Naturally. Thus we were declared friends forever.

My glasses spontaneously broke. There is one stem missing but thankfully I can still balance them on my nose with the other stem...Awkward but effective.

Another funny bonfire moment: At some point into the night, a boy jumped over the fire, which was startling because he ran right by us and then just leapt. A few minutes later, this little Asian girl asked me to move over and then she ran to leap over the fire. I gasped, and then screamed, "But you're short!!" as she leapt, because really, there was no physical way she would make it over. And she didn't. Thankfully she was quick on her feet and was able to keep her momentum moving forward and thus fell out of the fire. But kind of funny that I didn't choose to say, you know, Be Careful! or Jump High! Nope, You are Short was my warning.

Hung out with some Mormons tonight...got hit on by a Mormon boy. I felt kind of bad for the bait and switch (sorry kid, I'm protestant). He insisted I take his number. Turns out the whole event is was basically a giant singles/mating ritual. Good times.

Average time to walk to school: 15 minutes
Average time to read a chapter: 2.5 hours
Average time to do Chem Homework: 2.5 hours
Average time to do lab preparation: 3 hours
Average time to fall asleep: 3 femtoseconds

So week two of school has revealed a truth that we all know: I don't have a slow speed. As I look toward what the summer has in store for me and I see that I have to schedule a week long seminar class into the break in between the summer and fall semester, I realize that I will not have a true break until Christmas...heavens!

I think I attract interesting people or, maybe, I just see everyone as interesting. My Chem professor is a strange bird and yesterday he distributed a poem he wrote about chemistry. (Our extra credit on our exam is to learn the chemical formulas of the substances he mentions in the poem). Amazing! I totally had a Jim moment where I was looking for the camera to see if this was really happening. He read it aloud to us and we responded with a round of applause (brown-nose). It just makes me laugh so hard. I bet he will appreciate my lymerics.

Destiny

I am trying to come to grips with the fact that growing-up does not mean you ever know what you are doing. I treated myself to a movie yesterday - The Prince of Persia. It is my favorite kind of movie - light, action filled, with elements of the fantastic. And threaded with the theme of destiny.

I know I make fun of myself for being clumsy. I mean, I am a pretty easy target. But there are times when the epic inevitability of my clumsiness is just too much to take. Escaping my house after a less than productive afternoon, I walked to the grocery store, which is just a mile or so away from my house. As I bagged my groceries in the bags I brought (one made by Ms. Verch - thank ya ma'am!), I thought to myself, hmmm, I will carry my eggs by hand, so as not to break them. Unfortunately, one the way back home I straight out fell. Don't know what happened, there was nothing on the ground, I just fell. So there I was, on the side of the road, eggs cracked and broken, knees cut and bleeding. I walked home leaving a trail of blood and egg yolk, like some sort of twisted Hansel and Gretel.

Geek Out

It is time for me to embrace my inner geek. Little did I know a return to school would release my pent-up OCD; organizing notes, color-coded flash cards, knowing all the answers = yours rockin' truly. Yeah, I have already been made fun of in class for being type A. Just because I was the only one who did homework for the first lab when it wasn't required. I am thorough, ok!?! I watched Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, and felt affirmed that it was okay to be crazy and a geek. So that girl walking down the street with her ipod, fanny pack, and a stack of index cards bigger than your head? Yeah, that's me.

I just realized that when my landlord called me asking if I heard any parties over the weekend, he was asking if I had any parties over the weekend. Which is ludicrous. I do watch BBC movies late at night, is that crazy enough for you? Apparently the people below us moved out and broke their lease because of my raucous habits, aka cello playing, sewing frenzies, and old movies. Really kids? Have you met me? I am an old woman.

In other bad news, my lab practicals in Anatomy are spelling dependent, meaning I have to be able to spell. Which makes sense, but does not bode well. And tomorrow I find out the score of my Chem placement exam, which won't drop me from Chem but the prof might suggest that I step down to a lower level. Fat chance, lets just hope I got 1/3 of the questions right.

Day Two of School: Everything is okay. Except I have a lot of studying to do. LOTS.

Okay, but really. Today was the first day of Chemistry and the prof is amazing. He is from the Dominican Republic, has a great accent, and a great sense of humor. I will never be able to fully explain his awesomeness, but I will give you the best quotes from the lecture:


"I am like a diver, I can smell a rotten problem. I go straight in the ocean to kill the octopus."
"I am not here to destroy your dreams, I am here to add gas to your wings. I am a poet."
"I am like a hawk!"
"You don't care about magic?"
"Rum is the spirit of life."
"Even Marijuana growers use the scientific method to make the pot stronger. That is what I call American ingenuity!"
"You think Chemistry is dry? Bullshit."

I didn't even take notes on Chemistry, I just wrote down his jokes or his attempted jokes. I think there is still something of a language barrier. Instead of "I wasn't born yesterday," he said "I didn't wake up this morning." Ha.

LAST DAY!

Lessons from the farm:

Christa! Don't forget your gloves!

Christa! Don't forget your hat!

Christa! Don't forget your water!

Christa! Don't forget your suncreen!

I am exhausted from four hours of weeding, scratched from nettles and raspberry bushes and sore from digging holes, and my ankles (only my ankles) are sunburned. How did that happen?

I made up this lymric while I was weeding:

I am tired of weeding this thistle
Though it gives me time to whistle
It would go by fast
If we used a blast
Why don't we weed with a missle?

I love the farm.

I thought this was creepy.

But then I saw this and this.

I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair...

Today I, yet again, washed my hair with something that is not shampoo. I think it was my body wash since I would have noticed the little exfoliaters from my face wash. What a mystery.

The times, they are a changing...

Yep, that's right. I have put in my notice, switched from a year's notice to three weeks. Three weeks! That gives me three weeks to secure loans, a part time job, register, buy books and a calculator. OMG! We just went into super drive and will not stop for the next two, three, or five years. But the end goal I have in view is being able to make a living, buy land, move to the country, build gardens, own goats, help people, travel, and, eventually, find rest.

And do you know what stress makes me do? Bake. I have been a veritable machine, motivated by nerves and a desire to get rid of all the potential edible temptations in my house. Bread, cinnamon rolls, soup, and a gorgeous dark chocolate tart have all been churned out of the oven in the last 48 hours.

You all have to check out Jessa's "the-gal-who-I-introduced-to-sewing-and-then-she-vastly-surpassed-me-in-skill-and-creativity" new blog and etsy web site. More importantly, you need to check out the precious purses she just crafted. For reals.

It is late, I should not be up but I am.

I am at work, writing an article about food and emotions, which is laughable given my propensity to use any little emotional trauma as a diving board into a pint of Ben and Jerrys. Choclate Chip Cookie Dough. Eaten while in a hot bath, reading a Jane Austen rip off or any sort of ridiculous historical fiction. Maybe with dragons. In the book, not the bath. However, here I am experiencing a now familiar scenario, trying to teach people about things I am still struggling with.

Here are some realizations, moments of clarity from my oh-so-crowded mind. I am learning there can be freedom in discipline. So many times when I try to eat well, there is this breath-caught-in-my-chest feeling that I am just waiting to see myself fail. Waiting for that time when all I really want is a cookie and gosh darn it, don't tell me no! But I feel like there has been a slow change, where eating good food isn't part of me trying to be something else but rather eating good food is just a part of who I am. Does that make sense? This perspective eliminates any sense of failure and makes me feel less desperate and more peaceful. And I almost want to cry from the relief of it.

I told the worship leader at church that I would play something for offering, which immediately led to anxiety and nausea. We settled on Bach and now I have been practicing feverishly. But I had a practice revelation last night! First, I started to memorize the piece I am going to play. It’s an oldie-goldie, one I have learned and played before, but the act of memorization produced remarkable results in the way I played. It made me start thinking about the piece rather than just reading it off the page. I began to understand it rather than be frustrated by it. I felt like my eyes were opened. I also stopped hold my bow like a weapon, which also improved my technique. Shocking.

Other news:

- I was trying to order sushi and I kept saying shusi. I said it, like, three times and couldn’t get it right. Very embarrassing. Stupid brain tumor.
- This weekend is my first farm day at the CSA. I almost want to get some new overalls in honor of it. But I wouldn’t want them to think I was kitschy. I will just stick to gingham and pig tails.
- There is a direct correlation between the number of hours I listen to Vampire Weekend and how happy I am.
- I cried a little when I realized that Lauren Conrad of “The Hills” and “The City” has published several young adult novels, which I discovered in an airport book store in March. Her book was rich in “OMG”s and “I knew he was the man of my dreams by the way he texted” and, this is a direct quote from L.A. Candy, “She had to take a shower, like, immediately. Who knew how long he had been in her bed, polluting it with Old Spice and Man Sweat.” Ah, sweet prose. (There are many questions raised by this evocative quote: How come she didn't know who was in her bed? Why is 'Man Sweat' capitalized? Why is 'immediately' italicized? Is this to ensure the reader grasps the depth of her emotion?) I was seized with anger, that young women might be reading this trash. Who knows how many girls have a library consisting onlyof Twilight and L.A. Candy!?! We need to start a Little Woman Fund to distribute Louisa May Alcott and George Eliot novels to this neglected populace. And hunt down LC. On a lighter note, I leave you with this.

I don't know what is happening in my brain, but I have not been on top of anything this weekend. I was going to play with a band, turns out I went on the wrong day. Skipped Bible study cause I felt like crap. Didn't go to orchestra dinner cause I forgot directions and Jessa had a more appealing movie-watching plan. I am so not on my game this week. Sigh. Alas, I am determined not to beat myself up about any of it, but just let it be. It is what it is. I can only try and do better.

Also, Andrea's Guinea Pig (GP) died on my watch, while she was out of town. In my defense, I wasn't required to do anything the GP, because she had all the food she needed for the week. But it was only this morning that I noticed she hadn't moved but even more telling, her food was untouched. I poked it and then called Andrea in a flurry. I think it had been dead for a while, maybe explaining why I kept thinking our apartment smelled funky. Poor GP, RIP.

Monday morning you sure look fine

The cat threw up on my clean laundry.

Despite this ill boding event, I suspect I will thoroughly enjoy this gloomy, indecisive day. Lunch with the Decker-Smiths, some music adventures, and, hopefully, sewing. I have many decisions coming up (ugh, and begin practicing for the GRE. I have forgotten algebra!) but am excited about new steps and possibilities. I am trying not to be completely overwhelmed. In other news, I am obsessed with cauliflower, my mom's shampoo, and my long hair.

Lately, I think mostly due to my fading illness, I have been in a food slump - not really hungry, not wanting to make food, nothing sounding good to eat. But, thank goodness, dinner with Rachel and Annie seems to have cured me, as I ate with gusto and it was delicious. We had yummy salads laden with pears, beets, and bitter greens. I have been experimenting with homemade Popsicles, so I brought some of my coconut blackberry treats for dessert and they were fantastic. Today's tantalizing food tid-bits: I had a breakfast wrap with eggs, greens, and cilantro pesto, looking forward to hot and sour soup for lunch, and spinach noodles with feta, more of the cilantro pesto and asparagus for dinner. Oh, and I made more Popsicles for my co-workers to celebrate Marcy's birthday! Hooray!

She climbs a tree and scrapes her knee, her dress has got a tear...

It is 9:10 on Monday morning. So far I have:

Overslept
Fallen in the parking lot of my apartment
Ripped my dress
Scraped my knee
Was late to work and my first client

Hopefully I have gotten the clutsy quota taken care of and can now move on to more important things in my day, like not falling asleep at my desk and not spilling food on my second dress of the day.

The show is a success! At least, the final show ran without a hitch, a glorious culmination of all the hard work of the kids. Sigh, I love musicals. And I am exhausted. The level of tiredness was not helped by the fact I stayed up until (eek!) 3 am sewing last night. And am likely to do the same tonight. I have been constructing clothes in my head non-stop and it is time to make these mental creations a reality. Enough talk, time for action!

I burned my fingers this morning by falling on my hair straightener while looking for shoes in my closet. Don't ask how, these things happen to me. First, lost shoes, then burning hand. This is unfortunate because it is my left hand, my money hand, the hand that makes the cello work and TONIGHT is opening night. How's that for drama? Heal, little fingers, heal. They are currently slathered in strange Chinese balm (Ching Wan Hung) that is supposed to help. So far I just smell funny and my fingers still hurt. I will push through!

"Dude, Nice Metastatat"

My co-worker came up with the word and together we wrote the definition.

Looming Disaster

So, as is usually the case with a high school musical, the first full run through of the performance was an unmitigated disaster. Long awkward pauses with no music to play, Maria running on stage, late to her own wedding, the captain left hanging, waiting for the voices of his own children, half of whom went to change costumes when they weren't supposed to. A total of 4 hours of tragedy that will put fear in the hearts of the performers to learn their cues, how to change costume in less than 4 seconds, and to pick up that wayward bench that is continually left lurking in stage right. Ah, the glory of the musical!



I have come to the fearful conclusion that I need an attitude re-adjustment. I have realized that most of my humor comes from the mocking of others and no matter how good-humored, satirical, or funny, it's not right. It's like using only sugar as your method of making food taste good; it gets old fast, has no real value, and is cheating. That being said, my co-worker is bidding on mermaid and faerie mummies on e-bay. No comment.

I think the snow might be gone for good (don't jinx it!). I have been so ridiculously productive this weekend, mostly getting all those piles of things done I never have time for in the week, like taxes, cleaning, and re-arranging my bedroom. I finished my two books and now will read All the Pretty Horses. I went to a picnic yesterday and sat in the sun to get my first sunburn and my first farmer's tan. Two birds with one stone, yeah baby. I walked to the mailbox this morning and it is delicious out.

The ties that bind.

Here are a few glimpses of Josh and Katrina's visit and Easter. First, the cake of death. This is a Martha Stewart recipe that is guaranteed to put you under. Ultimate Coconut Cake. It was like an accident you couldn't look away from. Even though I had seen the ingredients, I couldn't help but construct this insalubrious masterpiece. Ingredients: 2.5 lbs of butter, 5 cups of whipping cream, 11 cups of sugar, 1 cup of simple syrup, 1 package of cream cheese, and 2 bags of coconut. And three cute homemade flags. Thankfully you were guaranteed to burn a couple hundred calories just from picking up the monstrosity.

Before dinner we did some rugged Easter egg hunting, in fancy dress. The snow drifts were still really, really deep in some areas but Josh insisted on hiding eggs in the snow anyway, which resulted in some knee deep egg hunting, cold feet, and lost boots. We hid 48 eggs but found only 47 (Amelia found the last one two days later, when some more snow had melted. Overall, I think we did pretty well). I love that Katrina is the type of girl that when she discovered my bonnet, she immediately put it on. That's quality. Other pictures include the zoo (I love the one of my parents, I think it captures their essence), a charlie's angels pose over the leftover egg dye we threw in the snow, Pollock style (don't worry, it's all natural. There was something a little wrong about teaching Amelia how to make a gun with her hands, but the picture is cute.), and Amelia on the carousel. Really, I have the best family...the only thing missing was Danny!!! Danny, where are you? We missed you!

So, when my boss takes vacation, I can take vacation. I think he is going to China in June. I am trying to decide what to do and I think I am going to 1. take a road trip or 2. go camping in the woods for 4 or 5 days. Anyone wanna come with me? Such adventures are hard to do by yourself....

It is but a sigh of a thing.

The only reason I woke up this morning is because my arms fell asleep and I couldn't turn off my alarm any more. I was dressed and out the door in ten minutes. There is a sound in my apartment like a coffee pot brewing...but I have no coffee pot. I have thus concluded there is a coffee ghost in my house. I think this is the worst kind of ghost; it flaunts it's caffeination but leaves nothing, not even an aroma. It's an aural haunting. I have given my year's notice to my job. Go me. I have realized that my inability to say no is actually a disease. No really. I am in a conversation with my boss and I am listening to myself say, "I'm flexible" when I know I am not. I know exactly what I need to do and I still concede every time. This next year is going to be hellish and it will be my own fault. I need an intervention. But don't worry, I have given my years notice...so, you know, an end is in sight. I refuse to make any new paragraphs, this will be one dense, dense mound of words, my words, that you will have to sift through. Oh, I almost hit enter, phew, close call. I am waiting for a brilliant flash of light to lead me on to something in life. Inspiration. And rest. Right now I am reading Franny and Zooey and a Girl named Zippy, which I am enjoying immensely. You know what else the library is good for (I know I have said this before), cds! I just requested several of the cds I have been coveting and now they are in my cd player. I am in the midst of rehearsing for the Sound of Music, rehearsals every night. Every now and then there is a long and awkward pause of unexpected silence, usually when the scene is not set and there is no music to play and no one knows what is happening. The Sound of Music is amazing, I love this musical and, of course, I wish I was on stage. I would make a great Maria. I was recently asked if I would ever do a double wedding and my first immediate reaction was a resounding no. Of course not. I would be the center of attention and I would not share (except with my gentleman of choice). Just for the record. Unless there was some sort of Austen-esque series of events, where two siblings married two siblings after a dramatic case of mistaken identity, traumatic conflict, and a shipwreck resolved winningly by my own wit, beauty, charm, and most excellent jokes. And I would get to walk down the aisle first. Or last. Which ever would get me more attention. Second child much?

This makes me so very happy.

A hint of summer

the outer banks, Danny being pretty, Danny saving us with his machete, climbing on wet, slimy wood, all lovely things

My greatest love: the library

I am not kidding. Spring has come and I am smitten with Jefferson County library. I can pick up movies to rent, that Dolly Parton cd I wanted to listen to and not buy (I think Dolly and I could be great friends), and books, books, books. I remembered on vacation how much I love to read. It's delicious. And don't you want a bookshelf like this?

BALTIMORE!!??!!

We've uncoiled from the hills...

Favorite passages from new favorite books:

"They had strong, independent natures, both of them. They knew what they liked, and were not always trying to imitate other people. They loved children and animals and music, and rough play and digging in the earth. They liked to prepare rich, hearty food and to see people eat it; to make up soft white beds and to see youngsters asleep in them. They ridiculed conceited peopled and were quick to help unfortunate ones. Deep down in each of them there was a kind of hearty joviality, a relish of life, not over-delicate, but very invigorating. " My Antonia

"As piano-playing, it was perhaps abominable, but as music it was something real, vitalized by a sense of rhythm that was stronger than his other physical senses - that not only filled his dark mind, but worried his body incessantly." My Antonia

"When spring came, after that hard winter, one could not get enough of the nimble air. Every morning I wakened with a fresh consciousness that winter was over...There was only -- spring itself; the throb of it, the light restlessness, the vital essence of it everywhere: in the sky, in the swift clouds, in the pale sunshine, and in the warm, high wind -- rising suddenly, sinking suddenly, impulsive and playful like a big puppy that pawed you and then lay down to be petted. If I had been tossed down blindfold on that red prairie, I should have known that is was spring." My Antonia

"Stop," I said. "Please do not further endorken yourself to me. You have great hair and a car that is most fly, and you have just saved me with your mad ninja driving skills, so do not sully your heroic hottie image in my mind by further reciting your nerdy scholastic agenda. Don't tell me what you're studying, Steve, tell me what's in your soul. What haunts you?" You Suck

I am currently watching Hurt Locker, wishing I had popcorn. Yesterday I couldn't stop saying "Snoveling Show" instead of "Shoveling Snow." I tried three times. I think it's my inner, subconcious diva screaming for a stage, but she, due to lack of practice, mangled the line.

I am trying to log on to an online account to pay a bill and my security question is "In what city were you married?" Um, nowhere. I can't figure out what is happening. How can I answer impossible questions. I made up destinations until it switched my security question. Next came "Name you first pet." Awesome, I got that one right.

Soup Snow Day

Okay, so we may not get off work but on snowy days when it is dangerous to drive, Shu (our Asian clinic Grandma) make us all soup. I got a big bowl and some spicy mung bean noodles that were so hot my nose started dripping and I had trouble swallowing. YUM. (I now feel a strong need to make "These noodles are so hot" jokes. You know, like, these noodles are so hot that after you eat them people might think you are a dragon cause you will be breathing flames and laying waste to all around you. Okay, it needs some work, but its a solid foundation.)

"If you have come to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together." Lilla Watson

I hope you can appreciate that I left Denver with a bag weighing 36 pounds (contained a tent and sleeping bag) and returned to Denver with a bag weighing 49.5 pounds (used book store purchases while in NC). And then I purchased another used book at the overpriced used bookstore in the Raleigh airport (but it was Margaret Atwood!). I finished "My Antonia," and my obligatory work book on Diabetes and plunged into Atwood's "Alias Grace." Yummy.

Your smile is like a breath of spring

I have recently constructed a wish list of things I want. It is as follows, in no particular order:

Ukulele
Vintage (working) typewriter
Oil change
Cello pickup
Laura Veir's new Album: JulyFire (I think it is called that)
Any music by Paper Bird
Dolly Parton's greatest hits
A new sketch book
Glue Sticks
Hiking boots
An endless supply of confetti cupcakes (surely there is a magic button for that)
New running pants (This is not related to the item above)
Running fanny pack
Colorado 14ers guide book
Open-toed clog sandals, with a nifty wooden heel
Time to sew

Quote of the day:

"She's a woman who loves the path she's on..."

Today has been unique.

I have:

bruised my chin by hitting it on my bed frame while reaching under my bed for something
dumped scalding hot water in my lap while driving
stapled my finger while trying to fix the stapler
broken my favorite teaspoon by dropping it on the floor


I need to go to bed in order to start over.

Frakenpeep

My immune system is rebellion. I feel like a slug.

One Million Faces

I am in the first 28! What What!

A little bird did sing man has no choice when he wants everything

I wish I were the one designing the Olympic uniforms. I mean, really, how much fun to be able to go crazy with the stripes and stars, as gaudy as you please, and no one could say a thing because then they would be un-patriotic. I would require stars to be tattooed on the Olympians foreheads. I want to see commitment, people! I am going to make up my own Olympian sport. I think I will be able to bump out the biathlon (is that even how you spell it? Oh, small tangent about spelling. I know you all will be shocked but in Sunday school this week, I was the only one that knew how to spell Synecdoche. Booyakasha.). Picture this: Cross country skiing, paint ball crossbows, capture the flag. Done. Most awesome sport ever. Everyone will be swathed in white, to blend in with the snow. Yep, let's start a petition. If ice dancing exists, so can this.

Speaking of work, it stinks. The general feeling is that the Boss wants to fire everyone and start over. And he thinks he can demand so much from people and not be nice because unemployment is high and we are apparently desperate to keep our jobs. I have one word for you Mr. Boss, Karma. Karma is the name of the dragon that is going to eat you for cosmic dinner. And then you will be reborn as a .... something he really doesn't like. Um, anyone or anything that isn't him. We need to do a new sage burning or something cause there is some bad juju.

It has been gently snowing all weekend and we are cloaked in grey. It's nice to have cold gloomy days when you can stay inside. I am now going to work, to film a blip for our clinic TV about what I do. I imagine I will regret this video every day that I am at work (which is every day). Thankfully I have some previous acting experience (see Elizabeth neighboorhood video done by the city of Charlotte. That's right, that cute voiceover is me. Autographs? Sure, why not, only cause you are my friends).

The panda dinner was funny. Held at the wildlife experience, sort of a nature museum, we were able to look around and see exhibits. But then there was also a lot of awkard chatting and mingling. Thankfully I am good at that. The best part was when the speaker during our meal started putting up slides of mating pandas and panda anal glands. Awesome. And then my boss's wife, after dinner at this formal event, pulled out a bag of sunflower seeds and her own tea. By the end of the night her tea saucer had a small mountain of seed shells. Oh, and Troy, my most picky of co-workers, definately stuck her tongue out at the dinner. Sure, there was a little cheese and the vegetables weren't raw, but can we please show a little class? Must we stick our tongues out at our food like children and make faces? I am only asking for a little effort, folks. The evening ended with a Chinese lion dance, which was my favorite part. The lions were manned by kids and they would come up and try to eat your head. Fun times.

The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what we share with someone when we are uncool.

Oh, you saw that giant scratch on my foot? Yeah, that one that stings and looks like road rash. That's from where I fell off the treadmill at the gym this morning, with hundreds of people watching. Okay, no one was really watching, but its hard to stop blushing, catch your breath, keep running, and pretend like nothing happened. Play it cool girl, play it cool.

Today I am roosting. Cooking (blueberry pastries, spinach soup, earl grey tea), hemming dresses (I chopped one off WAY too short (this is why I need a dress maniquien) but I will redeem it with some trim thatTiffany sent me), watching Almost Famous (I am a golden god!), waiting to head to the Panda Benefit Dinner with my coworkers (Is a panda costume required?), and I think I will be taking a nap. Oh, sweet Saturday!

Good news!

My roommates boyfriend fixed my car for me! I am going to buy that boy a giant pizza. Maybelle has risen from the dead, at least for now! On to Sound of Music rehearsal and the rest of my weekend!

I was staring at the stars, just looking for a sign

I am at work and my car has refused to start yet again. again. I have everything I need to fix it, just not the time. I am going to clean the battery posts now, in the dark, in the snow. It is more funny then depressing. I expect that it will be depressing in 15 minutes when I can't feel my hands. Oh Maybelle, how bitter is your betrayal!

Today we celebrate the birth of the poet, artist, photographer, writer, kind-hearted, philosopher, genius, creative, handsome lil brother of mine. Hooray!!

I stumbled across this while looking for a sign for our clinic. Awesome.

Tim Tam Slam Okay, this guy does the tim tam demonstration much better than I could. And he is Australian, so it's authentic.

Cool. For homework, everyone much go out and Tim Tam Slam and send me a photo of you with your face covered with gooey chocolate.

I plan to come up with my own version of the Tim Tam Slam. I know you are excited. I think I will call it the Christa Crush.

"If you want to live a life of meaning and purpose you have to discern what your actions indicate about where your values lie - then you have to be willing to change and evolve without fear"

"If you redefine the success of a shelter in terms of health and happiness, your shelter becomes a participatory environment that invites you to interact in its operation"


On the way to San Francisco, they offered Cheese Curds as a snack option for the incredible price of $3. Yes please.

I was reading, on the flight to San Fran, a homesteading/ living-off-the grid/ build your own house book that a co-worker lent me. I have drawn over a dozen sketches of the house I want to build myself, complete with garden plans and composting toilet. I can't wait (!) for this dream to be a reality. I plan to build a house (albeit a small, cozy cabinish affair) with my own two hands. And with a lot of help from friends. House-raising party anyone? I have decided that I have a great brain and it is tired of being lazy. I have full confidence in my ability to learn how to run a house efficiently on solar panels and what not, and to understand how wiring a house works. I am too inventive and creative to just get by flipping switches and being warm without giving any thought to how it all happens. I, of course, will not electrocute myself or bite off more than I can chew (building a house is totally within the realm of things I can accomplish). How exciting! Who wants to go in on some communal property with me. We can share the tractor.

A word about Tim Tam Slams. It is amazing how good form can transform a mediocre cookie into a sublime experience. These cookies, I think the brand is Argnotts, can be found in World Market. What you do is brew yourself a hot cup of tea. Then bite off the opposite corners of the cookie (just a nibble). Then stick one corner into the tea and suck the tea through the cookie from the other corner. Just as the tea is starting to reach your mouth, pop the whole number into mouth and enjoy the blissful, melty, gooey goodness. I will provide a pictorial lesson soon.

Today I announced, to Marcy's horror, that I am a punctuation pluralist: we are all going in the same direction and it doesn't really matter how we get there, with or without commas. I got her some cold water after she revived from her faint.

I am planning to infiltrate the office's communication system with some imaginary memos. Here is an example:

Memo 5698: Interoffice referrals

In order to facilitate better usage of practitioner referral coupons (please refer to memo 5003), coupons will be stapled to clients ear lobe until redeemed. This is an extension of our auricular acupuncture program and should increase returning patient appointments.

Please contact me with any questions.

Christa Oakes, CNC
Acupuncture Health Manager and Lifestyle Educator

I also have written a memo to my hair today.

Memo 5699: Non compliant Coif

It has come to my attention that you feel that you do not have to comply with the current Office Dress Code titled: "Trying to Look Normal and Not Like Daryl Hannah From Clan of the Cave Bears" I have included a picture for your reference since clearly you take no notice of what is reflected in the mirror.

I will offer you other cinema actresses to draw inspiration from. Grace Kelly. Cate Blancett. Rita Hayworth. Even a classic Jennifer Anistan would suffice. I am not even asking for anything Rapunzel-esque. Correct this situation or you will be sent home.

Thanks,

Christa

Weather: Fair
Demeanor: Fair
Mood: Fair
Complexion: Fair
Where I wish I was instead of work: the Fair

My entire work place has gone hard core vegetarian. Like, vegan. The usual superiorism has been kicked up a notch. Chef Shu examines my lunch, but for the opposite reason. She insists I need meat and white rice in order to grow big and strong. I can't please anyone.

The main reason I am writing is to encourage you, my fellow bloggers, to write more frequently. Your wit, humor, stories about life are the only bright spots in my work day, where my only window stares into an acupuncture room. I work 12 hours a day, I need entertainment! I can only plan so many menus, write so many memos before my eyeballs melt!

I don't like getting up early for those first 3-5 minutes just after I force myself out of bed. After that, I am always glad to awake. I woke up extra early to go to Brian's 'Elegant Agility' class (yes, please, I want some of that) that started at 6:30 am. Ugh. But once on the road, all was well and the class was fantastic. He breaks down the movements so you are only concentrating on one little thing and then at the end he puts it all together and voila - elegant agility. Actually, I think the name of the class is terribly silly but I like it all the same.

Waking up early also reminds me I can do anything I want. So often I cop out and hit the snooze button but, wait! There are so many benefits (and a great sense of accomplishment) to be reaped from a little discipline and sacrifice. Shocking.

A note needs to be added for my latest addiction (this is in the category of Things-Lacking-In-Self-Discipline): Marcy always has a stash of chocolate covered pomegranates in her drawer. Yes, that's right, chocolate covered pomegranates. The are an edible form of Meth, crack cocaine, and heaven wrapped up into one sweet little ball of joy. And you can't stop eating them until you have the inevitable stomach ache that follows such an indulgence. Does my stomach hurt now? Yes. Will I go eat another handful before I go home? Yes.

And I had two interesting dreams (don't get bored, I work at a place where dream analysis is big. On another interesting tangent, I definitely overheard a conversation where two of my co-workers talked about their psychic connections with their cats. Yes.). Dream one: First dream EVER where I successfully revisited the Tennyson center, was working with kids, and felt in control and not afraid for my life. And, in my dream, I almost drove a bus into some giant gravel crater. Dream 2: In this dream everyone slept on washing machines instead of beds and all the machines were lined up and we were all sleeping and I was annoyed because the lady next to me was resting her head on my feet. And I got yelled at for using too much electricity.

she's fighting with the sky, she thinks she can

I had my newest adventure this evening.

I went to my first roller derby practice. Though, it was hardly derby and more learn-how-to-skate-so-you-don't-die-or-severely-maim-yourself-you-silly-girl-who-can't-skate.

I was terrified when I rolled up to the wagon wheel skating rink, with its back woods location, dirt parking lot, and the dank smell cow dung clogging up my senses. And I remembered what my indefatigable sense of confidence (aka life through Christa's rose-colored glasses, complete with sound track and movie crew) had removed from my mind: I haven't skated since my 16th birthday party.

Overall, I did pretty well. I moved like a granny, only fell twice, have some serious bruises on my knees, and am kind of addicted. The girls were all really nice and helpful; Fonda Pain had some good tips about my stance and Wicked Sister taught me how to skull. Next week: knee pads and more speed.

I have decided my derby name will be Calamity. Fitting, no?

The Curing Cake or I Really Need A Piece of Chocolate Fudge Cake

Tonight I decided to make a cake.

I think it's a splendid thing to do when you get all riled up. When I get all riled up.

Also, I saw a movie where the gal made a chocolate cake and I really wanted a slice.

I took nigella's chocolate fudge cake and added a Christa twist. I love reading nigella's recipes, she has such a sense of humor. For example, for servings she says "Serves 10 or 1 with a broken heart."

The twist is a banana and walnut custard filling.

Yum!

Sorry you aren't here for a slice!

Tonight driving home, on the side of the road by my house, was a truck full of construction and caution signs, the kind with lights on top, and they were flashing silently, even though there was no one to warn.

Today I actually felt good at my job and more energized at the end of my day than I have been in a long time.

Marcy said she would go to a movie with me tomorrow, I think out of pity. But I will take it. I have been avoiding my home a bit, the solitude. It gets a a little heavy.

Running makes me happy. Today it made me feel free and thankful. Though not yet fast.

I also want to be a chef tonight. I want to have a shop called the Soup Spot and we will serve delicious soup, mini-pies and popsicles in the summer. The walls will be light blue and mint green and there will be wide white trimmed windows that slide open to let in the breeze. There will be a garden in the back. I will wear yellow ribbons in my hair that match my apron. And my face will hurt from smiling.

new obsession: long underwear under long skirts with boots. Hand me a bonnet and send me out the door.

I have had my third night of angry dreams in a row.

The first was a musical dream, where a haphazard ensemble was supposed to play together (one piano, two electric pianos, a saxophone, a drum set, and me, on cello) but no one knew what was going on and there was no time to practice and no one would listen and I was so very ANGRY.

The second took place in my old church's gym and it was Christmas. We were supposed to put on some sort of Nativity/ 12 days of Christmas/ Drummer boy performance but, again, had no time to get ready and no one was listening and it was pure chaos and I was so very ANGRY.

Last night I dreamt that I was living at a homeless shelter and this one girl kept trying to kill me. She was huge and every time she would come for me, I wasn't scared, I just took her down in some of the moves I learned from my child restraining years. I dragged her to the manager's office and calmly explained that I had no reason to hurt her, that her anger was irrational, if she would just tell me what was wrong we could fix the problem. But no, she just kept coming for me and I kept taking her down. She was the angry one in that dream. I was just wearily resigned to continually throwing her on the ground. Like, I would be in the middle of a conversation, she would sneak up on me, I would twist her into a pretzel, and say nonchalantly "Sorry, she is just this girl that keeps trying to kill me."

So, this means I am angry, right?

It is -2 degrees outside and all I want to do is curl up in bed with my book and hot cocoa. But I have a long, long day ahead. And a long day tomorrow. Then I can rest.

cue heart attack, nervous breakdown, and brain implosion

My boss just emailed from his vacation in Costa Rica that he has tons of ideas for the book and he can't wait to get started on it again.

Marcy told me as a joke but then understood from the harrowed desperation in my eyes that I don't think its funny.

She says the book has to sell because its her retirement and that I am the key to making the book sell. I say that I will be a sad little old lady, alone for the rest of my life, doomed to being a ghost writer for other people's stories, never having a story of my own, if this book continues.

Weekend Treats

it is a new year.

I brought it in with Rachel, Annie, and Laura - we had a lovely dinner, full of lively conversation and laughter.

And silly hats.

Then I plunged into the world of sewing. Several trips to fabric stores with Laura and Jessa

(plus yummy food and movies. Sherlock Holmes - predictable yet entertaining)

I made a fairy dress. Yes, I am an adult. But I like fairies. Sue me.

Also scored some wicked sweet Good Will deals. Behold: the new sewing cart for $1.50.

Covered with trendy oil cloth from fancy tiger, thanks to Jessa's handy staple gun. Also, discovered a trench coat

(aka tore it from the mannequin within seconds of being in the store) - I added the flower.

It's very cute, don't be deceived by my poor photography.

An Epic Blog: Boldness has its own genius, power, and magic.

The year of the ox is at a close and let us all hope that the year of the tiger is more forgiving. General prophecies say that it will be a year of love. Let us hope so.

Recap (For those who don’t recall, these are the first lines of each month of the past year):

January: Today has been funny.

February: Today I exercised my divine feminine right to not watch the superbowl.

March: I am sick.

April: Today was my 1 year anniversary at Whole Health.

May: I have found my calling.

June: Amy is coming and I am incredibly excited!

July: So my work day is done and now I can blog guilt free.

August: I am no longer house sitting and am back in the mountain, which I must say feels a little weird.

September: Found the Egg! Phew, what a relief.

October: isn't he just the cutest baby ever? My brother and sister have the most beautiful children!

November: Hello. I have tried to write but all too often I delete what I have said.

December: Okay, so I am shamelessly stealing this idea but what fun!

In terms of resolutions (though as Rachel suggested, it may be better to call them intentions), I have well over a dozen, in my normal mad-hatter, no-holds-barred way of plunging ahead like a three-legged donkey through a swamp. I have been wading through my convictions of late and have found that many of my choices are not sustainable (don’t mind my somewhat hip and green use of this word. But I mean it, as in I cannot possibly continue living in the way I have been. Definition of sustainable: capable of being maintained at a steady level without exhausting natural resources) and are not in the least bit congruent with my professed beliefs. Integrity is so inconvenient at times. Yet I truly believe that I operate with a lighter heart and a greater sense of freedom when all things line up. It is time to plant my feet.

Main Points of Change:

• CSA. I am determined to join a CSA and to volunteer some hours working at the farm as well. My work schedule is the big hiccup, but it will be overcome. I also am leaning toward eliminating meat again and possibly dairy. How can it be that veganism looks so appealing right now? That’s the trouble with reading books. Words and thoughts stick in your mind so that instead of chicken, I see a pile of antibiotic ridden, GMO-fed unhappiness. Unless I know the animal that the food came from, I ain’t eatin’ it. And once you are friends with the animal, how are you going to kill it? (Actually, I have no problem with killing animals for food (I know, I am a villain), but, really, meat is not sustainable in the quantities we eat it and more often than not, it’s just icky).

• Shopping. I am going to stop shopping for new clothes (gasp!). And no new fabric too, though that one hurts even more than no more clothes. Now that I have a sewing machine, I am going to give sustainable fashion my most concentrated effort. So I can remake old things, from thrift stores, but no more therapeutic shopping trips to euthanize the soul. Nothin’ store bought for this urban homesteader.

Summeresolutions:

• Biking to work. It’s going to happen. When there is no more snow.

• Camping/ hiking/ tomfoolery in the woods. Lots of tomfoolery.