Things are pretty.

Okay, so I just attempted my first Etsy treasury, mainly because I loved Jessa's onesie creation (see the first item). This was exhausting. I am sure I can find better ways to spend my time, but in the end I am quite pleased with the collection and aesthetic balance. Hooray for Mondays!

I don't want to jinx it, but I think my cough is almost gone. I have used only one cough drop today and have spent only 17.23 minutes in the act of coughing. I am afraid to do anything other than sleep and drink tea, for fear I will throw my body back into immune system havoc!

What is most ironic, I thought to myself as I stared through the locked door of my car at the car keys on the seat, is that 10 minutes ago I said aloud, What would make this day suck is if I lock my keys in my car. And then I did it, thus sealing the fate of my afternoon. Things that happened while locked out of my car:

- I played chicken with a hawk. I kid you not. This giant bird swoops down from the sky right toward me and I just stare at it. I am wondering, is it aiming for me or am I just in its way? Can it not see me? Where is this giant bird headed? And then, when I could see its talons, I ducked. Now I know I have a tendency towards hyperbole, but I am so telling the truth. Hawk Bird Vs. Christa. Hawk Bird won. I knew this once I found myself cowering under my bumper.

- A woman asked where I was from in Colorado and somehow, in our 6.15 minute conversation, I told her my entire life story. Not sure how that happened.

- I calculated how many times I locked myself out of places in the last 12 months: car - 5, apartment - 2, house I am babysitting at with kids inside - 1. I think I need to go to locksmith school.

- My ears are ringing. Because I have an ear infection, like a three year old. The doctor told me that my lasting illness is actually allergies. And then I got an ear infection. I am so so so tired.

- Locksmith shows up and tells me his life story, with dramatic hand gestures, while I look at my watch because its time to pick up the baby from Spanish. Apparently a psychic, who he opened (unlocked) a door for, was phone stalking him. And, you know, he likes thick girls but not THICK girls (this is the first thing he tells me. my question: who are you and why aren't you opening my car?) so, he is going to have her number blocked. And she won't stop calling him (I have to pick up a toddler in 3 minutes). Finally I tell him I have to go pick up my little girl (the church is in walking distance) and I go get Emmy and we have a lovely walk while he finishes breaking into my car. Which, if you ever wondered, Subarus are hard to break into.

A hint of greater things.

Listening to my bro and his fellow band member, Bobby, play some music on this here podcast.

Driving home I see those flooded fields How can people not know what beauty this is I've taken it for granted my whole life Since the day I was born

This Valentines week I couldn't help but think how lucky and loved I am. I am so blessed with lovely, lovely people in my life. I have entered a season of such contentment and peace in knowing who I am and a little bit of where I am going. This is the great thing about growing up, for all of its bumps and falls. Sometimes I am so filled with joy, for no outwardly obvious reason, that I feel that rainbows will shoot from my fingertips. By asking the questions I have avoided out of fear, I have found sweet answers and affirmations that shatter the lies that I let live in my heart.

This week deserves celebration for the great folks that were born into it, Tiffany and my bro, Dan. Birthdays can sometimes have a tinny quality to them, echoing as we try to fill them with all the things we want to share and show people, the things we want to say, and the longing to feel our worth. But I hope these dear friends feel the weight of their importance to the people around them, in a it's-a-wonderful-life-other-wordly-experience way, if necessary. I have the hook up with some angels if ya'll need some Clarence love (that's his name right? the angel that needs to earn his wings). I love you guys!

I've been accepted to Johns Hopkins, she said in a whisper that couldn't contain her hope, excitement, and glee.

I make a lot of mistakes. Lots. In the past each one would be seared into my memory and I would relive them, painstaking detail by painstaking detail. That time I broke something. Or that time I said something embarrassing. Or my entire year of 6th grade. Then I learned to laugh at myself. It takes a little practice, but now I am really good at it. Really good. So now I am learning to handle my EPIC mistakes with grace. The ones where lots of people know you messed up, not just the lady you spilled coffee on. The one where you organized an event, invited 100 people, and then put the wrong address on the flier and didn't realize it until your boss calls you, lost and 30 minutes late to the function he is hosting. Right. Epic. But guess what. I slept really well and only spent 1 hour of my day groaning (I knew I needed to stop when the little girl I babysit started mimicking my guttural and heart wrenching "Oh my goooooossh" moans that would spontaneously spew forth). And now I am preparing to go into the office and face my consequences (which I am sure include a bucket of hot oil, maybe some tar and feathers). Things I will do: apologize, not make that mistake again, see what I can do to fix things, resign if necessary (the knowledge I could quit at any time makes everything in life more bearable). Things I will NOT do: Talk meanly to myself in my head.

The ironic thing is yesterday morning, before the revelation of my flier debacle, I was so sure of myself and like, dude, I am so on top of things today. My list was checked off, the work was done, things were good. Bum, bum, buuuuuuuummmmmm. Cue the flier and the laugh track.

I can steal this minute and this minute and this minute and no one will know that I took them all for myself, because I didn't want to share. These minutes are for sitting, thinking, watching the sun, and feeling safe. And I am keeping them.

DIY

How to freak out your online discussion group: Talk about new mother's eating their placentas. No one will respond to my post. I dominate! My virtual classmates cower in the presence of my boldness and are left virtually speechless. Bwahahahaha! Put that in your psychological development pipe and smoke it.

Addendum

This week I also got to experience behind the scenes school stuff. This sends a thrill through me similar to the joy produced by walking in churches barefoot after hours or hearing my shoes echo as I walk down shiny hallways. There is a location, called School Supply, where all the mail for all the schools is sorted. Each school has its own slot and I got to sort out hundreds of packages into those slots. Thrilling! This is also where all the buses sleep and lie in wait for each school day.

The good Lord gave me peaches and the good Lord gave me bread

Today has not gone as planned.

1. I slept an extra hour (Inside my head: GO! GO! GO! GO! Outside my head: Mesljdospahdnononowakeupyetsldjkd)

2. Got Lost in Huntersville. Well, I knew where I was but not where the school I needed to find was. I have had savant-like navigational success this week (with some assistance from me dad), using a map like I was born with one in hand. GPS, not needed thanks, I am going to triangulate this old school style. Using a road trip phrase gleaned from Ethan, my map buddy, I was going to "feel my way" to all my locations. This worked for the past 20 schools. Not this morning. 2 Hours of random driving, witnessing car accidents, and getting stuck behind funeral processions, I decided to cut my losses and head to task two of the day: photo copies at the office.

3. No One Was at the Office. And the door was locked. And I can't get my parking ticket validated. So I leave, losing two dollars for a 10 minute stop, 45 minutes of driving, and no photo copies.

4. At Panera. Getting directions and drinking coffee I shouldn't drink and eating a free bagel I shouldn't eat (That's right girls, my confession). Recently swearing, AGAIN, to give up wheat lasted, oh, four days. My bagel was delicious. Why give up wheat, you ask? Well. My wellness plan for fighting illness this week (I have been sick all week, in addition to other chaos. The toddler I watch says, Christa I have something for you. I reach out my hand, what? Something from my nose, she replies, as she wipes a booger in my hand. Ah. Thank you.) included huge amounts of vegetable and fruit juice. I feel much better AND my eczema on my hand, which has been lingering forever, is clearing up magically. Coincidence? I think not. Dear Panera, stop giving me free food. Dear Self, grow a pair.

5. Today I want to stretch out in the sun (or in my bed), read books and let my mind empty of snot and thoughts (haha, that was going to be more poetic but I couldn't avoid adding the snot. Such a good word and very similar to our new positive adjective, SMAOT - which is hot and smart combined. The A is silent).

6. Before this week I had never used Vics Vapor Rub. And its magical. It always kind of freaked me out, but as I was rummaging through cabinets looking for anything cold relief oriented, I found the little blue jar. I'm telling you, magic. If you are feeling the smallest bit poorish, wrap up in blankets in your bed, smear this on your chest while snuggling a heating pad. Miraculous sleep will result.

7. The Last Thing Impeding Productivity: I am blogging at Panera. Must Go Back To Work.

In My Head

Flighty Christa (FC): I love these cute and very cheap little houses in Columbia. I should move down here. Then I could also play in my brother's band all the time (because I love it) and I could have a cute little house all of my own.

Grounded Christa (GC): That's silly. You are going to nursing school.

FC: There is a school there.

GC: You would have to be a transfer student, it would take longer and cost more to complete your degree.

FC: Well, I could get a job as a CNA while I go to school, so that would help and the pace would be slower, so I could sleep more. AND THE BAND IS HERE.

GC: Right, you just got your CNA liscense in NC, not SC. And you can't plan your life around a band. End of discussion.

FC: Cute cheap houses, good thrift stores, and garden potential.

GC: High crime rate, low job rate, you're a fool.

FC: I like crafts.

GC: I know.

Has anyone seen the latest 30 rock? Does anyone read my blog? They were song fighting people, song fighting. Put that on my to do list.

I am going to fail my online classes, because I open my computer and suddenly I am watching my favorite TV shows. Odd, isn't it?

Its exhausting being me. I am a walking disaster. Today: I accidentally fed all my checks into the ATM at once instead of one at a time, thus my total deposit was 20 bucks instead of 180. Had to ask the bank people to open the ATM. Yep.

I have a new white cardigan that I LOVE. love. So I wear it as little as possible. Otherwise, I will destroy it. I will put it on just as I walk out the door and I am not allowed to eat in it or use ink pens. or pencils. or paint. And as soon as I get home I take it off and put on my "home cardigan" which has holes and is ugly and is indestructible.

Taken by storm

Random Thoughts This Morning:

I have neglected my online classes for 4 days and missed assignments. Oops.

My house is incredibly clean.

I was singing old MacDonald with the kiddo and I paused to let her fill in the animal when she shouted "Camel!" looking at me expectantly to provide the necessary sound. Uh, what does a camel say?

I started a new job and I am terrified. Working from home makes me feel like I always need to be working, but this position is dependent on other people.

I need printer paper and some coffee.

I am going to make egg rolls for dinner. Maybe. I love egg rolls.

I am ready for my next transition into nursing school. Online classes and working from home makes me 1. Feel like a recluse and 2. Feel oddly unanchored to a schedule. I have been doing these new things for less than a week, so I suppose I will adjust. I had a thought last night that I need to practice learning. Its easy to pretend to read and then cram right before a test, but where will that get me in the long run. I actually have to practice discipline, think about the material as I read it, digest it, think about it, enjoy it, learn it. I figure I better practice now with these psychologies before I get to the real stuff. I am feeling very lethargic in general, so I am hoping a second wind will come my way and provide needed inspiration for activity. Otherwise, I think I am heading to the library or some non-home place so that the things to do will actually get done.

I have this weird bump on the back of my head. I assume I hit my head somewhere but I can't recall where....so I have concluded that its a spider bite and I have spider eggs growing in the back of my head. If I play my cards right, I could give Medusa a run for her money.

Ack! Turn off the TV! (as a side note: duh.)

Today I entertained myself by narrating my day with cheesy news headlines, like "Christa's Brain: Your Source for Breaking News, Specifically In The Category Of Things That Amuse And Have No Pertinence To Real Life."

Here are the highlights:

Dangerous Entanglements: The Curse of Clothing Claustrophobia

It is a Glory Given to Her for a Covering: Hair Straighteners and the Gospel

(this one's for you Megan)

Sew Wrong: When Homemade Clothing Goes Bad

The NeverEnding Story: Christa Says Something Awkward

Running in the Rain: A Guide on What NOT To Do

I have a mini road trip this weekend -> Ch. Hill, Virginia Beach, DC, Baltimore, INTERVIEW, Ch. Hill, Charlotte, Admission?

I feel like my workouts would be made more effective with some interpretive dance and a ribbon wand. And spandex.

I confess, I do love me some Grey's Anatomy

Tonight I played the game “Let’s Make Leftovers Into Something Edible.”

This is what was in the fridge:

1 cup Quinoa

¼ cup Roasted Chicken

½ cup Cannelloni Beans

1 cooked sweet potato

Chicken Broth (I am trying to be a more economical cook, so I roasted a chicken this week, which I have eaten all week but also used to make my own broth. It was fun, especially the roasting. Roasted chicken is so pretty and makes me feel accomplished and old fashioned)

The key to this game is a well stocked pantry. I made a sweet potato stir fry that, if I do say so myself, was delectable.

Sauce:

3/4 cup chicken broth or water

3 1/2 tablespoons soy sauce

3 tablespoons sherry

1 1/2 tablespoons rice vinegar

1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil

1/4 teaspoon pepper

A spot of honey

Mix all these ingredients together.

Sauté 1 ½ Tablespoons garlic, 1 Tablespoon ginger, and 1 chopped onion in a little oil. Add chopped sweet potato once the onion is browned. Then add the beans, chicken, and quinoa. Add sauce and cook until heated. If need be, dissolved 1 ½ Tablespoons of cornstarch in 2 Tablespoons of water and add to sauté pan to thicken the sauce. Serve steaming hot. Any other vegetables could be added as well, aka anything in the fridge that needs to be consumed.

Ironically, I had new leftovers from my leftovers, BUT less than before (because I ate some...duh).

Yang is back!

Can't give up actin' tough, its all that I'm made of.

Tonight, while in the grocery store, I was passing a man who hit a shelf with his own cart. I immediately apologized, as if I thought my clumsiness was infectious and this poor gentleman was within the contagion zone. I made the situation more weird by then saying, "I don't know what I'm apologizing for. Drive safe." The man just looked at me confused. Walk along, nothing to see here children.

There were 4 vultures by the side of the road, right after the ice storm, all feeding on a single squirrel. Who ever sees vultures in real life? I feel like this does not bode well.

It is 9:00 pm and I am in bed. This is a perfect evening.

Firsts

I have been thinking about first impressions, in life and in books...the first line of a novel is the hook which decides if one continues to read or not (really the first paragraph...but its more dramatic to see what a single line can offer). I, thus, provide you with a random sampling of first lines from my limited library. You will see that Jane Austen cheats with punctuation. I separated out novels and short stories to see if short stories try harder, as they have a smaller amount of time to progress their plot. You decide.

Novels:

When I was little I would think of ways to kill my daddy. Ellen Foster

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. The Hunger Games

"Tom!" No answer. "Tom!" No answer. "What's gone with that boy, I wonder? You TOM!" No answer. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

To begin with the old rigmarole of childhood. Wives and Daughters

I never had sex with my father but I would have, if he had agreed. Iodine

She scowled at her glass of orange juice. The Blue Sword

It's a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Matilda

Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch-hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs, changed naturally into pity and contempt, as he turned over the almost endless creations of the last century - and there, if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never failed - this was the page at which the favourite volume always opened: Elliot of Kellynch-Hall. Persuasion

I seemed to be standing in a busy queue by the side of a long, mean street. The Great Divorce

Charles Howard had the feel of a gigantic onrushing machine: You had to either climb on or leap out of the way. Seabiscuit

Short Stories:

"Unsolved Mysteries." Raymond West blew out a cloud of smoke and repeated the words with a kid on deliberate self-conscious pleasure. Miss Marple

The Superior Wallcoverings Wildcats were playing in the Little League championship game, and I wanted them to lose. The Smile on Happy Chang's Face

Your Father picks you up from prison in a stolen Dodge Neon, with an 8-ball of coke in the glove compartment and a hooker named Mandy in the back seat. Until Gwen

Anda didn't really start to play the game until she got herself a girl-shaped avatar. Anda's Game.

He did not have friends. Simple Exercises for the Beginning Student

They caught him after he had killed the second man. Old Boys, Old Girls

He had a weird growth along his dorsal fin and that gape-mouthed grimace you see in older fish. The Secret Goldfish

When I was sixteen I was high most of the time. Natasha

In a lovely urban coincidence, the last two houses on our block were both occupied by widows who had lost their husbands in Eastern European pogroms. Bohemians

Today I have been experimenting with watercolors, as I am using them in my design for Carman and Emmy's wedding. I've had moderate success, sketching and painting vegetables. Tomatoes have been my favorite, bright red with a kiss of yellow in the corner. The living room floor is also scattered with various sewing projects, a very inspiring scene. I think I need some new paint brushes; I did some research and I need a #8 round red sable. Doesn't that sound nice, almost like a friendly horse. Red sable. Of course, in reality, sable is a type of marten, which reminds me of a marmot, all of which have little to do with painting.

Currently, I am waiting until it is late enough that I can go to bed. Tomorrow I must study for my CNA test. I am nervous but I hope it ends well. Doesn't it make you nervous, when some event is stalking your future? The only thing that plagues me is taking blood pressure. I am not bad at it, but I have not taken one for a while and have no sphygmomanometer to practice with. Alas. Hopefully I will only have to measure someone's weight or measure urine output.

I have no camera, so I cannot show any pictures of my progress on any of the pictures, you will have to use your imagination.

New favorite blog for inspirational crafting and pretty things, Design*Sponge.

Today, hands freezing, I waited outside of the DMV until there was enough room in the lobby to let me in. I got in the front door, waited in the first line, waited in the second line, and then failed my test. So I get to go back tomorrow. I have to take a driving test as well, since I lost my CO license, which isn't showing up in the computer, because, you know, this is NC. After the three hour ordeal, culminating in my, let's say it again, failure (it was a spine tingling finish: I had missed five questions (you miss six and you fail) and I was pondering the answer to the last question, which was asking what percentage of deaths on the road were a result of alcohol. I went back and forth, hovering over each answer with the mouse, until finally clicking. I clicked wrong.), I went home and made myself a delicious lunch (chicken apple sausage, homemade apple sauce, and kale). Then I spent the afternoon with Christina, bride-to be, working on center pieces.

We were making some branchy, twiggy things that will glisten on the tables, after some DIY crafting. We headed out to her farm yard, armed with saws and clippers, and entered the cow pasture (which is quite large and is home to 4 cows) where some of the most twiggy trees are. At the first tree the cows came to visit, led by Curly, a large brown cow. He was quite friendly and wanted his head scratched. This is the type of cow behavior I can handle: head scratching. However, by the third branch, he started charging at us. Christina and I quickly changed plans, abandoning the collection process and trying to make our way back to the fence. Our procedure was to move from tree to tree, cowering at the base where he couldn't get us. I was terrified. This giant cow kept running full force in our direction, only turning at the last minute. He was smart enough, thank goodness, not to run straight into the trees. We had already three giant branches in our arsenal, which we used to keep Curly at bay and worked our way toward the fence, until our trees ran out. There was a huge part of the pasture without any trees that we had to cross to get the fence. And without trees to protect us, we would be taken out quickly. I thought to myself, "I am too young to die this way." The cow was making larger circles, but kept coming back, while Christina and I circled one tree as he attacked, trying not to hit each other with our giant sticks and saws. There were only two options: wait indefinitely for a Beekman family member to come rescue us or launch ourselves across the open space. Finally, Curly made a circle wide enough that we saw our chance to run across the space and throw ourselves over the fence before he could make it back to eat us. It was quite thrilling and I was glad when it was over. I told Christina that I no longer wanted to participate in any pre-wedding activities involving farm animals or running with half a tree in my grasp. I also got cow poop on my hand. That Curly, he is a mean one.

For dinner, I had walnut crusted salmon, garlic zucchini, and creamy potato soup. I wanted a hamburger, in honor of Curly.

A rhyming year.

Danny, dear fellow, came up for the holiday. After a smash-bashing dinner with our Uncle (which included the best, no really, the best hamburger I have ever eaten in my entire life) at Big Daddy's, we watched silly movies, such as Salt and the Other Guys. I think we stayed up til 12, but hard to say, as I was so, so tired. The sound of fireworks served as my lullaby as I drifted out of 2010. We were going to go hiking this morning, but Dan is still abed and it looks cloudy and cold out. We will have to find another adventure.

I baked brownies this morning for the Farson New Year's Day Bash. It was a recipe found through my mom, Walnut Lover's Brownies, a Betty Crocker recipe. Sooooo delicious. I thought to myself, "What an easy and yummy recipe to make, that won't require too much effort but will continue to bolster my reputation as the best of cooks." So, with ease and grace, I began to mix and measure. "Hmmmm," I said to myself. "I better double the recipe because everyone will just gobble these delectable bites up!" I added more butter, more sugar, and more walnuts, while the refrain "I am a wonderful cook, I am a wonderful cook, I am a wonderful cook" trickled through my brain. While stirring the topping, my favorite spoon snapped in half, which I mourned briefly, failing to recognize what doom the break augured. I foolishly continued on. The brownies themselves are rich and fudgey, requiring only chocolate, butter, sugar, flour, and eggs. I had just melted the butter and chocolate when I went for the sugar, only to realize I was two whole cups short! "Egads!" I whispered intensely, because Danny was still slumbering peacefully, with no knowledge of the epic storm cloud of disaster forming in the kitchen. "What to do!?!" With just a moments hesitation and no forethought, I began pouring anything sweet into the bowl. I substituted the four cups of white sugar with 1 1/2 cups white sugar, 1/2 cup brown sugar, and 1/2 a teddy bear of honey. "That should do it..." I decided to move forward to the eggs, trusting that all will be well. One, two, three, four, five, six eggs. "Aack! I am two eggs short! With no applesauce or bananas to be found!" I looked frantically between the egg carton and the bowl, hoping that a New Year's Day Miracle would occur, not unlike the Water Glass Miracle Of Christmas Eve. I counted the de-shelled yolks again. "Phew, there are seven. Okay, just one egg short shouldn't be a problem." I moved steadily toward the last step, and poured in all the flour, adding an extra-ish bit to cover the lost egg. "For structure," I nodded approvingly at the flour bin. As I poured the concoction into the pan, it clung to the sides of the bowl, ever reluctant to move, like an primordial amoeba refusing to slither onto the shore despite the promise of its evolution into man. "Get into the pan, yea foul brownie beast!" I commanded. Tamed, the batter did as bidden. I courageously topped the batter with the walnuts and sent the whole lot into the oven. Where it sits, while I wait to see what will emerge.

Twenty-seven in Two Thousand and Eleven. A rhyming year. A good sign.

Tomorrow I have to make a video of why I will be a good nurse, why I would be good at Georgetown, and why, why, why. I also have to go get a driver's license. booooooo! The DMV is the devil! I plan to get up very, very early, to beat the crowds.

I am watching Garden State and I forgot how much I love it. Danny is coming up to spend New Years with me and I love that my dear brother is in such close proximity. Brothers are paradoxical; the two immediate thoughts that come into mind when regarding my dear ones are "I love you" and "Don't touch me."

I read "Iodine" by Haven Kimmel today and it was stunning and staggering. One of those books you want to understand, savor each word, and weep for the weight of it. I have a pile of books from the library and I want to breathe them all in. When I was younger, I used to wish that I could just place a finger on a book and gain total comprehension of it, no time wasted with the turning of pages.

I may have a job by Monday. This is the first of my major new years resolutions: employment.

Transition(ing)

I have landed, somewhat breathlessly, and am passing the ten minutes I have before I arrive a half hour early for my interview. You know how I do. I am tempted to walk from the Panera where I am perched, because I am nauseated at the sight of my car. And I keep hitting my head on things. I don't know what has happened to my depth perception, but my apparent lack of awareness that I even have a head has left me with several throbbing goose eggs. While I still claim that I possess a unique brand of grace, it is a grace not recognized by the world or gravity. I am unpacked. The whole process took two hours, which is lovely. I plan to take a nap as soon as possible. Moving into a room recently occupied by my brother was like an anthropological dig; I kept unearthing curious things that had no home, and as far as I could see, no purpose. Dan, I collected them all and put them in a drawer, so while I saw no purpose for them, they are there for you to redeem. For a price. Also, thanks for cleaning the bathroom. In conclusion, less is more, when traveling and re-inventing oneself.

I also plan to create Christa's Car Boot Camp, which will include the following skills and tips:

1. Always have a headlamp
2. How to change tires in a variety of simulated situations, including "The Village"
3. Don't watch crime shows, they just lead to overactive imaginations
4. How to defend yourself with a tire iron
5. How to pack your car: A guide to reaching essentials at essential moments
6. Books on tape are a saving grace
7. Things to never eat: chicken nuggets
8. Tell your bank you are traveling across the country
9. Tell your mom you are traveling across the country
10.How to survive driving, the modern day purgatorial experience.

The Sea Wolf Mutiny Records "The Last Season" by The Sea Wolf Mutiny — Kickstarter

My brother's glorious band, The Sea Wolf Mutiny, is raising money to record their album! You can click on the link above to hear their music, see them, give them your money, etc. etc. You are pre-purchasing an album, so money well spent. Help them reach their goal!

The guy next to me in Panera just said "I don't mean to cut my own thumbs off but...."

I think that is the worse expression I have ever heard in my entire life. Sir, please put down the metaphorical knife. Besides, once you cut off one thumb, I imagine it would be difficult, nay, impossible to cut off the other. So, sir, your turn of phrase is illogical in addition to being disgusting. Please stop talking.

Soup Day

There is something so nice about being at home, even if I am glued to the computer working on my project (most of the time).

It is really fallish out and the weather is now biting in the morning, the not-so-friendly temperatures ever dipping lower. The sun sets at 6:30, I have on several layers, and the smell of the wood stove burning hot makes everything better.

Yesterday I accidentally stabbed my biology teacher with a scalpel, much to my horror. I made her pumpkin muffins, so hopefully all is forgiven.

Today my CSA pick up was a delicious reminder that there is a beautiful plan in place. My items were as follows: Roma tomatoes, two mini eggplants, a daikon radish, one small cabbage, one even smaller onion, kale, something unknown, spaghetti squash, and a bag of green peppers. What do you see amidst all these ingredients? Cabbage soup of course! Here is the beauty part: The earth gives us these foods during this particular season and these foods are the perfect foods for fighting off the colds and sniffles that are the unfortunate hallmark of said season. Even diakon radish, which is a little bitter for my liking, is nourishing and perfectly hidden in my soup.
It makes me very happy.

Brown paper packages tied up with string.

New Things That I Love:

Noodletools: This website will automatically create you MLA or APA citations, making works cited no work at all. Brilliant and my life has changed for the better.

Grilled cheese with avocado: Okay, not really new, but good enough to include on any list. Also try it with a french inspired fried egg on top = magical.

Gloves and Dial Soap: I cleaned up a lot of poo this week. I like gloves.

Not failing midterms I didn't study enough for: such a relief.

Goofing off the computer lab at community college: It's quiet, everyone thinks you are working, and you have written half of your paper, so you feel a little justified in taking a break to write a blog post.

Weddings that reunite old friends: Okay, also not new. But this weekend was filled with delightful times with Alamosa alumni. Much story telling and laughing so hard that my face hurt. Dance parties in cars, naps in parks, tea houses, climbing trees, and love love love! Shawna slaved in the basement creating a quilt for the couple, I played cello in a skirt a leeeettle too short, the sun shined, and pacts were made for yearly reunions, hopefully on Halloweens, so we can continue to revel in costumes, rose petal gangs, and puppy dogs.

Boyfriends: Nice in too many ways to count.

Riding elevators when late to class: so swift and then you arrive just as the teacher is beginning.

Eating yogurt with a fork, spilling it on my microbiology book, and then licking it off: Ironic, no?

Jessa, Don't Look

Christa, a story.

Chapter 1: Christa's interview at gap.

It began well. I was well spoken and confident, giving many antidotes of my excellent customer service skills, making good eye contact, and smiling. It was a relatively short interview and as I was leaving, I glanced down and realized the top button of my dress (my non-gap dress) was undone. This crucial missing button left me in a state slightly scandalous and thus elucidated the interviewer's query if I had any concerns about the dress code. I have not heard back from them about the position.

Chapter 2: Homework.

There is too much of it.

Chapter 3: Roller Derby.

If there is anything I want to be when I grow up, its a roller derby girl. The speed, the drama, the fish net stockings - it all calls to some bad ass, pin-up-wanna-be part of my soul. At the Denver Roller Doll bouts there is a couch, black leather, called the couch of doom. This couch is perched right at the edge of the rink, giving you a perfect view of the action, also a large probability of being physically hurt as a chick comes ramming into you at full speed. But so worth it. To win a spot on the couch, you must win the a costume contest, getting the most cheers from the crowd. Joe (my roller derby friend) and I determined we must win this competition. We arrive at the bout last night in full costume: gorilla suits. Him: cape and gold pants, Me: mini skirt, wife beater with my gorilla derby name (banana splitz), and bandanna. People stared. (Its also important to note that my parents also attended this bout and were good enough to stand next to me even as folks stared). We enter the stadium and headed toward the couch, but upon our arrival we see people already in it! And not in costume! This one evening, apparently, for the first time ever, the couch of doom was given away by raffle. Sad and dejected, Joe and I dragged our long gorilla arms into the stands, where we sat in gorilla suits for the whole game, staring longingly at the couch of doom. I made two children cry, so convincing were our costumes.

Chapter 4: Sleep.

I need more of it.

Chapter 5: Church.

I am not there. I thought service started at 9:30 but it starts at 9:00. I am late, as usual. On normal days, this would not bother me and I would enter late, boldly yet quietly. But today I can't quite make myself go, as I would have to talk to people and sit. And really, today I just want to be alone.

Is it fate or my own idiocy that has thwarted the submission of my first application to the program I had decided was the perfect fit for myself and all of my nursing dreams? Hard to say. It's still a little too painful to go into all the hideous details of the application-that-wasn't, but I have a new plan, which is in effect, reducing my class load and giving me a better chance to earn some money while in school. So that is good. I guess.

Moving this week back to the mountain house!

Went camping with Jo-Nathan and his super fun extended family this week. We went on an amazing hike, played lots of games, laughed a lot, saw bears and moose (three moose sightings, one bear, though we heard many more bears through tent walls, yikes!), played with cute huskies, and converted some poor, helpless cousins to the world of nertz - Huzzah! It was the perfect post-school get away.

In other crucially important news:
I went to the doctor and had all my hypochondriac fears quieted (I don't have cancer or diabetes. yay.) and found out that I am an inch taller than I ever thought, a towering 5 ft and 8 in. I still think I am due two more inches, maybe I am still growing!

I am exhausted, debating treating myself to a cinematic treat but more likely will just go to bed early.

This week I have to:
move
go to fall CNA orientation
make three gladiator costumes
organize my life
get new tires and a headlight
sleep
dog sit
remember what day it is
get vaccinations and proof of vaccinations
sign up for the GRE
buy plane tickets to fun destinations
contemplate my existence
run so I don't disgrace my gladiator costume
go shopping with Laura
see Jessa (its been ages!!)
spend more time outside
take my mom out for a vegan milkshake for her birthday

Home.

No wonder there are so many churches in the south; as soon as you step outside, you experience immediate baptism by immersion, ushered into the church of the hot and sweaty. We are a glowing, moist congregation.

I wrote a love poem about a chair in atlanta:

Where You Once Were

vinyl and thigh must, at time of parting,
detach with a lingering grasp;
the separation is announced
with reluctant sighs

an impression, a well of past recline,
pools with the hot tears of a love lost.
both participants, animate and inanimate,
are marked by what has passed.

stagnant winds and heavy air, too,
preserve the memory.
until a new form is discovered,
where you once were will remain.

I have just rolled in to my apartment, dropped my suitcases, whipped up a cup of tea and now, a breath and then...homework.

burning!

I am in Atlanta, where it is sweltering. I went on a run this morning to capitalize on the low altitude only to find I am allergic to trees and its a sauna outside. A delicious sauna. Megan is babysitting and she gave me a map and a list of coffee shops to explore. My favorite thus far is javamonkey, with its dark interiors, easy wifi acess, and extensive tea list. Too bad I missed the part where they tell me how to use my little tea pot. The result: scalding tea all over my lap, table, and hands. Ouch. I figured out the tea pot, though. Apparently, you set it on top of your cup once its done brewing and it empties into your cup through the bottom. Brilliant, once you know not to touch the bottom of the tea pot. Check. Also, I am eating a cinnamon buttermilk muffin. I like it.


The playlist is largely Justin Timberlake, which is another contributing factor to my enjoyment of this establishment (you know you love him; he's gonna have you nak'd by the end of this song).

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.