Today I ventured on another sweat-soaked adventure, as each outing into the steaming city leaves you glowing (wilting). But I returned successful! I lugged my three terra cotta pots and 16 quart bag of soil onto the bus, with miracle grow tucked in my pocket. My plants will not die! I procured a farmer's market steal (3 basil plants for $6) and quizzed the farmer who sold them to me on how I too could grow/sustain/not kill innocent green things. I see this as my first real patient-caretaker interaction, if anyone is keep track. Once home I sloppily baptized the pots with white paint (so hot, the paint dried the instant I lifted my brush, making for awkward pot-paint negotiations), painting swirls and squiggles to my hearts content. Soon, ground breaking and planting. They will not die! Also, I discovered that Ace hardware is, apparently, my inner city stop for all needed kitchen supplies. I swear I asked every person I passed in the street where I could buy a pie pan and there must be nary a pie in Baltimore because no one knew! But in addition to soil, keys, and paint, Ace is home to bundt and pie pans. Lovely.

Crisis!

Tomorrow is a holiday and all school buildings will be closed...which are the only places I go and I have THINGS to do! I have recruited another class mate to track down all of the study-able coffee shops in our neighborhood. We will frequent each for 4 hours before getting a brief break and returning to work. The day will end with sushi. I have met some great girls, one especially that will crack the whip and make me work hard to keep up with her. Awesome (not sarcastic, really, awesome).

Moments of fear and hope are crowding so closely together its hard to distinguish one from the other. I am sitting here thinking to myself, this is why we do things that are hard and challenging. This is why we put ourselves in places that make us uncomfortable or may seem impossible. This is where we grow.

Okay kids, its happening aka I am doing it aka first homework assignments aka classes start Tuesday aka holy crapola!

Phew! I am exhausted. But I sit here scanning my Nursing Care Plan text book, reading about patient education and sample patient histories and I am totally pumped! This year will be ridiculous, exhausting, and even more ridiculous, but whoa, I will learn a lot.

Summary:

- I found the nearest Good Will (snagged some steals, like a pie pan, cute cardigan, etc). At school we have to dress business casual everyday, meaning only a limited supply of my hippie dresses are doing to be acceptable. And I can't wear sandals. And its humid and feels like 100 degrees outside (Come on!). But it will be okay because there is a H&M and I found a buddy that will clothing swap with me and I have a few more bedsheets I can turn into darling sun dresses. The Good Will was quality, though the lady at the counter looked at us like we were the scum of the earth. Nothing like a good ol' stink eye to throw you off your thrifting game.

- First load of laundry here went well. Clothes drying on the balcony. Check.

- Made a list of homework. And I wrote my new resume. Can you believe at orientation they talked to us about writing resumes? That's how fast this program is.

- Tomorrow: Yoga in the park, farmer's markets, more exploring, syllabus party, etc. etc.

Do you remember August in Hinton James with no air conditioning? Anyone? That is what it is like here except its still May. August will kill me. I literally woke up last night in a claustrophobic fit because I couldn't escape the hot, sweaty sleeping bag I was trapped in. Except there was no sleeping bag. It was the air.

Baltimore is my dragon that has taken me home (aka my eczema is healing and my asthma is gone because this city has no trees. A bittersweet victory.)

I almost feel like I need to rename the blog to signify the shift that has occurred, this move that in some ways does represent a very significant change in my life course. But I won't, you will have to discern the shift yourself, aka my absence due to excessive amounts of work.

First apartment-made meal in Baltimore: Homemade Hash Browns and a Cheeky Chick In A Loop

What is a Cheeky Chick in a Loop you ask? Well, it is a sandwich of my own invention and it is delicious. It's grilled cheese meets egg in a nest equals awesome.

Want to try this at home? Here's how:

1. Take two pieces of bread, cut one hole in each of them, of equal diameter. Eat the rounds

2. Place butter in a a heated pan, listen for a sizzle

3. Place one piece of bread in the pan and place tiny squares of cheese all around the edges (not in the hole!)

4. Place the second piece of bread on top, aligning the holes

5. Cook, flipping as needed, as cheese melts

6. Before cheese is completely melted, crack an egg in the hole

7. Cook until egg is semi solid, then flip

8. Once browned to perfection, enjoy!

YUM!

Okay, things about Baltimore:

- I live in the cultural district, which means a giant library and at least 4 museums within walking distance, several historical houses to tour, and lots of beautiful churches.

- Pretty enclosed courtyard in the apartment complex, also lots of locks and gates (for safety, Dad. I am very safe.)

- I am next to the Peabody Conservatory, which means easy music library access and limitless concerts

- The apartment is international! Moving out: a Korean and Canadian, moving in: a gal from Hong Kong and gal from Jamaica. Vieen is cute and hilarious, plays violin and studies public policy (Favorite incident so far: my uncle asked if she had a dolly and she quickly said yes. A few minutes later she was handed him a dollar expectantly, confused at his confusion. Dolly and dollar, not the same). Rhonde selected the best Korean food for lunch, winning MVP for the day, and is a Chemistry PhD candidate.

- This is a city, rolling, loud, walkable

- I am at the sea! The harbor is beautiful, with giant ships, er, one giant ship. I haven't figured out where the rest of them are.

Tonight I get the house to myself. I am resting, contemplating how to organize things. Unfortunately, I can't unpack until my first day of classes, when someone moves out of my room. Ack! But then I get the whole place to myself for three weeks! Eureka! Let the decorating begin!

Projects for this week:

Futon cover

Finish bedding

Decorative pillows

Dinnerpolooza

Oh the fun, oh the food, oh the dishes!

Pie Crazy

Can you tell its a slow day at work? I am currently researching pie recipes and all I want to do is go home and whip up the most abundant batch of pie crust ever seen by the world and bake pie after pie. Spinach ricotta, zucchini and corn, buttermilk shoefly, apple, maple pumpkin, and anything with cloud or lemon in the title. How many years until my retirement pie shop can exist?

Also, I am about to lose my mind I am so excited about Baltimore. LOSING IT! What did I do today other than look up pie recipes? Search the Johns Hopkins public health website and explored many of their community outreach programs - including their food and faith initiative to bring fresh food and produce into the inner city. I have already cultivated a list of organizations to volunteer at and explore. This is my dream! It is coming true! I am going to be equipped with a career that lets me help people, be involved in gardens, children, delicious food, community education, sunshine, making a difference, and I can make money. Praise the Lord! No, seriously, some praise is due.

Go tell Aunt Nancy the Old Gray Goose is Dead

I am in love with this woman - Almeda Riddle

Christa's Celebration de la Chic

Fashion is the unbarring of your soul to complete strangers. A mere flip flop can reveal an obsession with youth as a belt can reveal a subconscious need to reign in your inner fire. Clothes are a language and we define ourselves by what we own (or by what we don't own). How many times have you purchased something you won't really read/use/wear because you thought it would make you look/feel/be cooler? Case in point. Even a rebellion against fashion is still spoken by what you wear. You will never escape.

This season, style is all about layers. Today I dressed in 7 layers of awkward.

Layer 1: Foundation Garments, made by Underlying Insecurities

Layer 2: Camisole in Light Pink with Antique Lace Trim, made by Hide Yourself

Layer 3: Grey Blouse with Wooden Buttons, made by In My Head So I Can't Hear You

Layer 4: Jeans, made by Who Do You Think I Am

Layer 5: Extra Soft Socks of Angora Wool, made by Trying Too Hard

Layer 6: Brown Riding Boots, made by Pretending Not To Care

Layer 7: Earrings, made by Don't Look At Me

But more importantly, what are you listening to? Check out this shout-out to my brother's band. You should listen to them. It will make you cool.

I noticed at the library lately I have been running into a lot of people. Literally, bodies smashing together inconveniently as I try to accomplish the already impossible task of walking while holding things. "Oh Christa," I say to myself while rolling my eyes, "you are so clumsy!" Then this morning it happened again and I finally realized the reason: I have been walking out the entrance door rather than the exit door (This library, apparently, has two very separate, very well marked doors, one for entering and one for exiting). Got it. Not clumsy, stupid. Check.

I have been very stressed lately about getting financial aid in order for school, especially since I will be borrowing a preposterous amount of money. I have never done loans like this before and I hate doing things I don't know how to do (hearken back to Christa learning to drive, Christa learning physics, and Christa buying a car). But finally I broke down and asked some questions. You have to pity to Johns Hopkins financial aid office, because they probably have hundreds of type A, anxiety ridden, over-achievers calling them daily. The lady I spoke with exclaimed, "What did they send you students in the mail? Everyone is FREAKING OUT. Honey, you are doing a great job. Everything will be fine. We will wait for the money and you will be able to register for classes." A nice little pep talk, I thought. I have discovered that 75% of my anxiety is self-created. Not to belittle the power of this anxiety, because when it strikes it is like a lightening bolt to the brain that sucks all of the wind from your lungs and laughs as it begins to eat your heart while you watch helplessly. But...a little perspective goes a long, long way. Also, my mom was in town this weekend, a balm to my soul.

Have you ever worn a bonnet?

This was the query of a blog I read occasionally. I was saddened and mournful about the half-hearted comments of folks who vaguely recall a time in their lives where they may or may not have worn a bonnet. They say "well, I was a girl child once and I like to sit in grass, so I must have worn a bonnet at some point." Kids, if you wear a bonnet with pride, YOU DO NOT FORGET. Can I get an amen? I, naturally, commented in length. I have decided, for your reading pleasure, to create a bonnet time line of my life.

* Timeline Translation because for once "paint" has failed:

- Birth

- First Bonnet

- Walk toward my first bonnet

- First crib escape in bonnet

- Speak first word: bonnet

- Speak first phrase: Mother, where did thou place my bonnet, my head covering of choice?

- First reading of Little House on the Prairie

- Climb first tree in bonnet

- First annual Bonnet and Field Frolic

- Sew my first bonnet

- First wearing of bonnet in public aka not in a field or forest

- Finished writing "Bonnet: The Musical" which includes great hits such as "My bonnet lies over the ocean" and "I like big bonnets"

- I begin bonnet street evangelism

- First visit to the Amish; I weep for joy

- First realization that historical museums offer a bonnet-safe space

- Found B.W.B - bonnets without borders, a non-profit dedicated to bringing bonnets to those in need

- Design the first nursing bonnet

- Publish first issue of "The Bonnet Quarterly"

- Live the remainder of my life, in bonnet, on the commune, where children and flowers flourish

- Death, buried in bonnet

The most comforting fact I have ever learned: anxiety can cause dementia-like symptoms. This explains so much in my life.

Stewed

Hmmm...picture rotation problems...

but I wanted to show the flowchart that got Christina and I through dinnerpolooza yesterday. Eight hours of cooking produced brie in croute, french onion soup, garlic mashed potatoes, bouef bourguignon, green beans, buttered peas and for dessert: Queen of Sheba cake with almond cream and strawberries. It was so much fun to cook with such extravagance and then to share it all with friends. There were ten of us in all, with Christina's GIANT Le Crueset pan as the shining star. More pictures to follow.

Christa's Celebration de la Chic

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here are other tips from my Saturday morning projects:

Key Lime Pie:

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

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

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

Sour Cream Pound Cake:

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

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

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

Homemade summer dresses:

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

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

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

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

I tossed a lucky coin, that never came down

I blame my brother.

And my childhood dreams.

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

Next Charlotte Show: May 4th, Snug Harbor.

Peek of the Week

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

---

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

Still haven't left the house...

Half Day

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