Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
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?
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
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!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
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.
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.
Friday, January 07, 2011
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
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
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, January 03, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, November 29, 2010
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!
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!
Thursday, November 18, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, October 07, 2010
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?
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?
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
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.
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.
Friday, August 06, 2010
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
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
Sunday, July 25, 2010
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:
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.
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.
Friday, July 23, 2010
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).
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).
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