Wednesday, September 11: Share links to your favorite online shops, preferably with a few photos of your favorite items in each shop.
I'm going to have to skip this one. I am not much of an online shopper. Really, I am not much of a shopper at all.
Don't get me wrong. I love shopping. I just don't do it very often. Here are my reasons:
1. The whole driving-makes-me-a-panicky-ball-of-mess thing. Even when I lived in Farmerville Corn Country Ohio, I didn't drive unless absolutely necessary (to work, to take friends home from a party ONCE because HELLO... what will make me feel WORSE driving at night than a bunch of drunk or tipsy passengers?! But I did want to ensure they were safely home). Here in Greater Greenville area, driving is a complete nightmare. Pair multiple traffic lanes with Southern drivers (you know who you are; you clearly don't know what you're doing) and add in my mental incapacity for meltdowns behind the wheel, and it equals out to me having a closet full of very old clothes and shoes full of holes.
2. I feel guilty. Pretty much every purchase I make comes with some guilt. Yesterday I decided to get Chinese food for lunch. It is pretty rare that I go out for a meal, but I just had to have an egg roll, you know? Okay, two egg rolls and an order of chicken and broccoli. I didn't even eat both egg rolls yesterday (though I did save one to eat today!) so don't judge me. I think my total came to $7.something. As I left the little restaurant, I just felt bad. The things that run through my head when I make ANY purchase range from: "Well, I shouldn't go out the rest of the week now," to "If you had not bought that food and just eaten some yogurt from the stock at the office, you could have used that money to send to some orphaned child in Peru!" And this is just about lunch. Imagine how crushed I feel when I purchase something significant... Okay, you can imagine it because I can't. Even splurging on a fancier skein of yarn makes me cringe... I bet you can even guess why my hair hasn't been cut since May! It's pretty awful. I'm not necessarily a penny pincher. I just don't like spending money.
3. I like to pay with cash. I don't like giving out my card numbers or subscribing to new store cards or anything. It feels risky to me and I am proud of my credit score.
I do have one splurge event that I love. I have lived in Greenville for two years and gladly discovered the Really Good, Really Big, Really Cheap Book Sale the first year. It is an annual sale and it is AMAZING. This year, I spent $40.00 and bought 25 books. That's less than two dollars a book. $40 may not seem like a lot, but when I can't even buy a cup of hot cocoa without questioning everything I believe in, it's a lot. And it is the one time that I don't even let myself feel guilty. :)
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Turning Point
Tuesday, September 10: Describe a distinct moment when your life took a turn.
I have a moment in mind, but I can't use it.
I have to come up with another.
Ah! Got one. I was almost 16. Let's back it up.
I've been a follower of Jesus my whole life. I had an active prayer life as a child, I loved VBS, I wore W.W.J.D. bracelets like there was no tomorrow. My family did not go to church regularly, but we weren't Christmas-and-Easter-only church goers, either. We went. Sometimes.
Now, when I was on the brink of turning 16, just a few weeks before, really, I attended my first Summer In The Son week at Kentucky Christian College (now University). It was in June of 2002. I had been attending a very large (for the area) church for a few years by this time and I was actively involved in small groups, Wednesday night teen events, and other activities the church offered. It was not until SITS 2002, however, that I realized that I loved God but was not living for God. I was living for me. And I was living for friends. And I was living for my boyfriend.
Ahh, my teen boyfriend. High school sweetheart. I loved him with the full capacity of my fifteen year old heart. He knew that I was committed to purity and saving myself for marriage and he was pretty good about it. Let's consider that this boyfriend didn't really believe in God in the same way I did and did not entirely understand my decision. Also consider that he was three years older than me and we had been "going out" for over two years. And he was good looking. He could have gotten it else ware, if you know what I mean. I know that he fully loved me with as much capacity as he had in him, too. It was awesome. It was real. I mean, we were KIDS but it was real. And I had made him a real idol. I lived and breathed for him.
Some of the messages at SITS 2002 that week were meant so specifically for me that it is uncanny. It might sound weird and I can't really explain it, but I knew somehow that this relationship was keeping me from living for God. And after that week, that was all I wanted for my life.
It was the hardest thing I had ever done, but when I got home from KCC that week, I broke up with my boyfriend in order to live for God. It was awful. He was so depressed (so was I) that I legitimately worried for his safety. I still would see him at school and we tried to be amicable. We still tried to hang out for several months, but it was too hard. I begged and pleaded with God to let us get back together someday, but that was not in the plans and I'm fine with it now. I had gained an awesome trust in God that year, but I was depressed about giving up my boyfriend.
Eventually, it got better. With time comes the ease of pain. I know that this might not sound like a big deal to most people and I probably sound like a sentimental sap, but it was genuinely tough. He was my first love and he left a huge impression on my life.
There's a semi happy ending... He married and settled down after some time. Quite a long while later, so did I. We don't keep in touch, but it's not because we hate each other or have any bitterness. We live several states apart and I don't think he even has Facebook or anything. He made good pals with my stepdad and would still come over from time to time when I was in high school, college, and even after. It's hard to explain the sort of bittersweet tenderness with which I still pray for him when I think of him.
And don't take this to mean I still have feelings for him. I don't. We broke up over ten years ago when I was a kid. I am very happily married to my love. But I probably wouldn't be if my life had not taken that turn.
I have a moment in mind, but I can't use it.
I have to come up with another.
Ah! Got one. I was almost 16. Let's back it up.
I've been a follower of Jesus my whole life. I had an active prayer life as a child, I loved VBS, I wore W.W.J.D. bracelets like there was no tomorrow. My family did not go to church regularly, but we weren't Christmas-and-Easter-only church goers, either. We went. Sometimes.
Now, when I was on the brink of turning 16, just a few weeks before, really, I attended my first Summer In The Son week at Kentucky Christian College (now University). It was in June of 2002. I had been attending a very large (for the area) church for a few years by this time and I was actively involved in small groups, Wednesday night teen events, and other activities the church offered. It was not until SITS 2002, however, that I realized that I loved God but was not living for God. I was living for me. And I was living for friends. And I was living for my boyfriend.
Ahh, my teen boyfriend. High school sweetheart. I loved him with the full capacity of my fifteen year old heart. He knew that I was committed to purity and saving myself for marriage and he was pretty good about it. Let's consider that this boyfriend didn't really believe in God in the same way I did and did not entirely understand my decision. Also consider that he was three years older than me and we had been "going out" for over two years. And he was good looking. He could have gotten it else ware, if you know what I mean. I know that he fully loved me with as much capacity as he had in him, too. It was awesome. It was real. I mean, we were KIDS but it was real. And I had made him a real idol. I lived and breathed for him.
Some of the messages at SITS 2002 that week were meant so specifically for me that it is uncanny. It might sound weird and I can't really explain it, but I knew somehow that this relationship was keeping me from living for God. And after that week, that was all I wanted for my life.
It was the hardest thing I had ever done, but when I got home from KCC that week, I broke up with my boyfriend in order to live for God. It was awful. He was so depressed (so was I) that I legitimately worried for his safety. I still would see him at school and we tried to be amicable. We still tried to hang out for several months, but it was too hard. I begged and pleaded with God to let us get back together someday, but that was not in the plans and I'm fine with it now. I had gained an awesome trust in God that year, but I was depressed about giving up my boyfriend.
Eventually, it got better. With time comes the ease of pain. I know that this might not sound like a big deal to most people and I probably sound like a sentimental sap, but it was genuinely tough. He was my first love and he left a huge impression on my life.
There's a semi happy ending... He married and settled down after some time. Quite a long while later, so did I. We don't keep in touch, but it's not because we hate each other or have any bitterness. We live several states apart and I don't think he even has Facebook or anything. He made good pals with my stepdad and would still come over from time to time when I was in high school, college, and even after. It's hard to explain the sort of bittersweet tenderness with which I still pray for him when I think of him.
And don't take this to mean I still have feelings for him. I don't. We broke up over ten years ago when I was a kid. I am very happily married to my love. But I probably wouldn't be if my life had not taken that turn.
Monday, September 9, 2013
Judgey, brain-excusing, hermit.
Monday, September 9: Take this short
personality test and respond to your results. (at the end, find the
detailed profile of your personality account – click “click to view”
under “You” and “self awareness and personal growth.” You can even
google your type and find more info on it!)
It's funny. I always considered myself to be something of an extrovert while growing up. I think I almost needed to be social because my sister was so shy and my brother was always getting in to trouble. Living in their shadows, I needed to be different, and different meant social butterfly. I went to a tiny school in a town where everyone knew everyone and I think there were about 50 students in my graduating class. I made it a point to look through my yearbook each year to make sure I had spoken to everyone in my class. I was not a very popular girl, but I was a nice girl and I liked just about everyone.
Since college, however, I have found it astonishingly hard to make friends. I feel less comfortable in crowds. I like being home and working on crafts or reading or spending time with my husband... Going out after I get home from work is a chore. But I do get lonely for a girl friend. I have had the urge to post a wanted ad something like this: Wanted: Gal pal. Must be able to hold an intelligent conversation and have a sense of humor. Must drive (I will gladly help pay for gas... I just hate driving). Should probably not be a health nut, but whatever floats your boat. Things we ca do: read, write, go to see shows, work out (need motivation), eat, take advantage of awesome downtown Greenville, garage sales shopping, workshops, etc.
The long and short is that I have become an introverted hermit since college. I have a love/hate relationship with the hermit status. I do love wearing my pajamas pretty much all the time. But I really could use some human interaction and I want to get out more.
I kind of feel like the second and third part of this are pretty similar and ehhh... Feeling over Thinking? I like that I am empathetic, but geez. I think, too. I rationalize. I analyze. I guess I do make some decisions based on feeling... like deciding to major in Humanities. haha! I loved college and I feel proud of my education, but it certainly didn't seem to help me get a job. I don't know. I guess that, at the end of my life, I'd rather say that I followed my heart on most of my life decisions, but I do weigh my options and I don't disregard what is right based on my personal feelings.
I completely disagree with the last bit. I could be wrong, but Judging over Perceiving does not sound like me at all. I know this is not all it's talking about, but I have long prided myself that I, like Albus Dumbledore, see the good in people and give them many chances. I play the devil's advocate like no one's business. I don't judge a book by its cover, but then again, when it comes to actual books, I usually do judge them by the cover. Hmm..
Whatever. I am me. And I may have been watching The Office while taking this test. I can't guarantee that each answer was given my full attention. I was busy laughing at Dwight, you know.
I scored:
INFJ
Introvert(33%) iNtuitive(25%) Feeling(62%) Judging(56%)
- You have moderate preference of Introversion over Extraversion (33%)
- You have moderate preference of Intuition over Sensing (25%)
- You have distinctive preference of Feeling over Thinking (62%)
- You have moderate preference of Judging over Perceiving (56%)
It's funny. I always considered myself to be something of an extrovert while growing up. I think I almost needed to be social because my sister was so shy and my brother was always getting in to trouble. Living in their shadows, I needed to be different, and different meant social butterfly. I went to a tiny school in a town where everyone knew everyone and I think there were about 50 students in my graduating class. I made it a point to look through my yearbook each year to make sure I had spoken to everyone in my class. I was not a very popular girl, but I was a nice girl and I liked just about everyone.
Since college, however, I have found it astonishingly hard to make friends. I feel less comfortable in crowds. I like being home and working on crafts or reading or spending time with my husband... Going out after I get home from work is a chore. But I do get lonely for a girl friend. I have had the urge to post a wanted ad something like this: Wanted: Gal pal. Must be able to hold an intelligent conversation and have a sense of humor. Must drive (I will gladly help pay for gas... I just hate driving). Should probably not be a health nut, but whatever floats your boat. Things we ca do: read, write, go to see shows, work out (need motivation), eat, take advantage of awesome downtown Greenville, garage sales shopping, workshops, etc.
The long and short is that I have become an introverted hermit since college. I have a love/hate relationship with the hermit status. I do love wearing my pajamas pretty much all the time. But I really could use some human interaction and I want to get out more.
I kind of feel like the second and third part of this are pretty similar and ehhh... Feeling over Thinking? I like that I am empathetic, but geez. I think, too. I rationalize. I analyze. I guess I do make some decisions based on feeling... like deciding to major in Humanities. haha! I loved college and I feel proud of my education, but it certainly didn't seem to help me get a job. I don't know. I guess that, at the end of my life, I'd rather say that I followed my heart on most of my life decisions, but I do weigh my options and I don't disregard what is right based on my personal feelings.
I completely disagree with the last bit. I could be wrong, but Judging over Perceiving does not sound like me at all. I know this is not all it's talking about, but I have long prided myself that I, like Albus Dumbledore, see the good in people and give them many chances. I play the devil's advocate like no one's business. I don't judge a book by its cover, but then again, when it comes to actual books, I usually do judge them by the cover. Hmm..
Whatever. I am me. And I may have been watching The Office while taking this test. I can't guarantee that each answer was given my full attention. I was busy laughing at Dwight, you know.
Friday, September 6, 2013
The Night I Thought My Life Would End
Friday, September 6: A story about a time you were very afraid.
I am often afraid. I am afraid of driving. I am afraid of burglars. I am afraid of abductions in parking lots and of creepy crawly things and of failure and of heights and of the dark and of germs. I am so afraid of the horror genre in general that I get almost queasy-upset when I accidentally see horror movie covers. It's pretty bad. I think I have become more afraid of things since I've become an adult than when I was a child. I don't think that I was overly scared of spiders, snakes, or large insects as a kid. Now the thought of cockroaches makes my skin crawl. Ugh! But enough about that. Let me tell you about the moment when I was more scared than I had ever been in my life.
I was probably 12 or 13 at the time. My sister, my best friend, and I thought it would be cool to sleep in the camper that we had parked in the back yard. Now, when I say yard, I mean that this camper was parked on the far end of our three acre lot, furthest from the house and close to the large woods owned by my neighbor. I don't even know why we had that camper. I don't think we owned it. It's like someone had asked us to park it there, a friend or relative, until they could pick it up. No one ever used it, so it's not like it was a camper meth lab a la Breaking Bad... It was just there. And so we thought it would be cool to sleep there one night.
The camper had no power, no working toilet, no niceties at all. It was just somewhere different to sleep and we could be loud and obnoxious with our girl talk without waking my mom, stepdad, and brother. So out we went and caused quite the ruckus. I remember vividly that I was at one end of the camper on a couch thing, and I think Julianna (my sister) was on the floor and my best gal pal Alicia was on the other end of the camper. We were laughing about crushes and I am almost certain that we were making fun of the newest Backstreet Boys song when the camper started to shake.
I stopped moving. I stopped breathing.
I was certain I was about to die. Surely some hook-handed, glass eyed, serial killer had heard the girlish giggles and followed his ears to our pow-wow, intent on our doom. I had never felt so tensely terrified in my entire life. And that includes all of the times that I had gone against my better judgment and watched Are You Afraid of the Dark? (Yes, yes I was afraid of the dark. I'm still not crazy about it).
The camper continued shaking for several petrifying minutes. Julianna, Alicia, and I shivered in silence, until I heard Alicia calmly call out, "Hi!"
What in God's name did she mean by it?!?! I was nearly wetting myself with fright and she was greeting our killer like a friend?! It was more than I could handle. I may have blacked out there for a moment because the next thing I knew, my mom, stepdad, and brother were clambering into the camper, laughing all the way. I was relieved but very angry. My sister claimed she had not been afraid for our lives, but thought maybe a deer or something was humping the camper. (Really? What a weirdo!) Alicia said she had seen my stepdad's characteristically messy hair silhouetted through the window. I alone had been scared out of my wits.
I think that is actually pretty typical.
I am often afraid. I am afraid of driving. I am afraid of burglars. I am afraid of abductions in parking lots and of creepy crawly things and of failure and of heights and of the dark and of germs. I am so afraid of the horror genre in general that I get almost queasy-upset when I accidentally see horror movie covers. It's pretty bad. I think I have become more afraid of things since I've become an adult than when I was a child. I don't think that I was overly scared of spiders, snakes, or large insects as a kid. Now the thought of cockroaches makes my skin crawl. Ugh! But enough about that. Let me tell you about the moment when I was more scared than I had ever been in my life.
I was probably 12 or 13 at the time. My sister, my best friend, and I thought it would be cool to sleep in the camper that we had parked in the back yard. Now, when I say yard, I mean that this camper was parked on the far end of our three acre lot, furthest from the house and close to the large woods owned by my neighbor. I don't even know why we had that camper. I don't think we owned it. It's like someone had asked us to park it there, a friend or relative, until they could pick it up. No one ever used it, so it's not like it was a camper meth lab a la Breaking Bad... It was just there. And so we thought it would be cool to sleep there one night.
The camper had no power, no working toilet, no niceties at all. It was just somewhere different to sleep and we could be loud and obnoxious with our girl talk without waking my mom, stepdad, and brother. So out we went and caused quite the ruckus. I remember vividly that I was at one end of the camper on a couch thing, and I think Julianna (my sister) was on the floor and my best gal pal Alicia was on the other end of the camper. We were laughing about crushes and I am almost certain that we were making fun of the newest Backstreet Boys song when the camper started to shake.
I stopped moving. I stopped breathing.
I was certain I was about to die. Surely some hook-handed, glass eyed, serial killer had heard the girlish giggles and followed his ears to our pow-wow, intent on our doom. I had never felt so tensely terrified in my entire life. And that includes all of the times that I had gone against my better judgment and watched Are You Afraid of the Dark? (Yes, yes I was afraid of the dark. I'm still not crazy about it).
The camper continued shaking for several petrifying minutes. Julianna, Alicia, and I shivered in silence, until I heard Alicia calmly call out, "Hi!"
What in God's name did she mean by it?!?! I was nearly wetting myself with fright and she was greeting our killer like a friend?! It was more than I could handle. I may have blacked out there for a moment because the next thing I knew, my mom, stepdad, and brother were clambering into the camper, laughing all the way. I was relieved but very angry. My sister claimed she had not been afraid for our lives, but thought maybe a deer or something was humping the camper. (Really? What a weirdo!) Alicia said she had seen my stepdad's characteristically messy hair silhouetted through the window. I alone had been scared out of my wits.
I think that is actually pretty typical.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Start Small
Pass on some useful advice or information you learned and always remembered.
I have asked for and taken probably a good bit more than my share of advice in my life. As I mentioned in a previous post, I am not the most independent person. I listen to advice, store it within my enormous memory, and now I can pass on to you some of the best and most mind-blowing advice I have ever received.
Are you ready for it?
Here it goes:
Start small.
Yep. That's it. Start small. This advice came from a professor of mine in college at Kentucky Christian University. Dr. Fawn Knight taught a number of my classes including English Comp I, Arts and Humanities in Eastern Culture, Masterpieces of British Literature, Renaissance Literature, Drama, and Creative Writing. This nugget of golden truth came from Dr. Knight during my Maymester Creative Writing course. There were only five or six students in that class, and Dr. Knight's ever encouraging spirit was so motivating to our tired minds. Dr. Knight taught me a lot in those three weeks, but "Start small" is the one I remember the most clearly. She bought each of my classmates and me tiny picture frames and had those words printed in them on our last day of class to be a constant reminder.
Because it is a reminder that we all need and it is a statement by which to live. I feel so overwhelmed sometimes... by cleaning my house top to bottom, or embarking on an enormous new novel that never seems to get any shorter, or writing for pleasure (because I always want my writing to be a masterpiece and, let's face it, it is not), or looking at all of the fit and beautiful people who live at the gym... Relax. Breathe. One step at a time. When you are feeling overwhelmed, out of place, unhappy with your surroundings, dissatisfied with what you are doing, it does not all need to be fixed, completed, or beautiful right away. Start small. You've got this!
I have asked for and taken probably a good bit more than my share of advice in my life. As I mentioned in a previous post, I am not the most independent person. I listen to advice, store it within my enormous memory, and now I can pass on to you some of the best and most mind-blowing advice I have ever received.
Are you ready for it?
Here it goes:
Start small.
Yep. That's it. Start small. This advice came from a professor of mine in college at Kentucky Christian University. Dr. Fawn Knight taught a number of my classes including English Comp I, Arts and Humanities in Eastern Culture, Masterpieces of British Literature, Renaissance Literature, Drama, and Creative Writing. This nugget of golden truth came from Dr. Knight during my Maymester Creative Writing course. There were only five or six students in that class, and Dr. Knight's ever encouraging spirit was so motivating to our tired minds. Dr. Knight taught me a lot in those three weeks, but "Start small" is the one I remember the most clearly. She bought each of my classmates and me tiny picture frames and had those words printed in them on our last day of class to be a constant reminder.
Because it is a reminder that we all need and it is a statement by which to live. I feel so overwhelmed sometimes... by cleaning my house top to bottom, or embarking on an enormous new novel that never seems to get any shorter, or writing for pleasure (because I always want my writing to be a masterpiece and, let's face it, it is not), or looking at all of the fit and beautiful people who live at the gym... Relax. Breathe. One step at a time. When you are feeling overwhelmed, out of place, unhappy with your surroundings, dissatisfied with what you are doing, it does not all need to be fixed, completed, or beautiful right away. Start small. You've got this!
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Hawaii: my heart's partial home
Wednesday, September 4: If you could take three months off from your current life and do anything in the world, what would you do? (bonus points for fun photos from Pinterest, but don’t forget to cite the source!)
Three months. Three MONTHS. THREE months. Hmm.
My initial reaction is that I would visit my family. This may sound totally tame and cheesy and lame to some, but understand this: my entire immediate family lives in Hawaii. I live in upstate South Carolina. Sure, it is nice here and winter doesn't feel anything like the harsh, hellish nightmare is was in my 24 years in Ohio. But come on! I live in South Carolina. My family lives in HAWAII.
I don't wish to go to Hawaii to go to Hawaii. I genuinely wish to be with my family, with whom I am incredibly close (this is especially true for my mom and my sister). Hawaii is actually just kind of a bonus. Here's the clincher: my dear, sweet husband is petrified of air travel. I honestly don't know if I will ever get him in an airplane. It is heartbreaking, really, because I do love to travel. I have been to England, Ireland, and Dominican Republic all by air and I'd love to see more of the world. I've been to Hawaii three times. I want to be there pretty much all of the time. But Kyle is not and will not be a flier. Bummer.
Do you have anyone who you are so close to that you feel completely incomplete without them? To me, that person is actually two people: my mom and my sister. We have more than a typical family bond. We belong in the same places. And we're a hoot when we're together.
Three months. Three MONTHS. THREE months. Hmm.
My initial reaction is that I would visit my family. This may sound totally tame and cheesy and lame to some, but understand this: my entire immediate family lives in Hawaii. I live in upstate South Carolina. Sure, it is nice here and winter doesn't feel anything like the harsh, hellish nightmare is was in my 24 years in Ohio. But come on! I live in South Carolina. My family lives in HAWAII.
I don't wish to go to Hawaii to go to Hawaii. I genuinely wish to be with my family, with whom I am incredibly close (this is especially true for my mom and my sister). Hawaii is actually just kind of a bonus. Here's the clincher: my dear, sweet husband is petrified of air travel. I honestly don't know if I will ever get him in an airplane. It is heartbreaking, really, because I do love to travel. I have been to England, Ireland, and Dominican Republic all by air and I'd love to see more of the world. I've been to Hawaii three times. I want to be there pretty much all of the time. But Kyle is not and will not be a flier. Bummer.
Do you have anyone who you are so close to that you feel completely incomplete without them? To me, that person is actually two people: my mom and my sister. We have more than a typical family bond. We belong in the same places. And we're a hoot when we're together.
Green Sands Beach near South Point, Hawaii.
My brave and beautiful sister swinging from a reclaimed rope swing in Pololu Valley, Hawaii.
Me, relaxing in a reclaimed rope hammock, also in Pololu Valley.
A lovely, lonely dried riverbed.
The Pololu Valley shore
Blogtember!
I did not do well on the last blog challenge and I am already day behind on this one, but I feel determined to write lately! I may lack the motivation, but I am sincerely hoping the prompts will help me on my way. I have wanted to be a writer since I was a skinny little girl, and it's ridiculous that I just don't do it anymore because I have slacked off in discipline. It's my dream, so I need to do it already! Here's the blog that Blogtember comes from!
Tuesday, Sept. 3: Describe where or what you come from. The people, the places, and/or the factors that make up who you are.
I'm a small town girl. Maybe not even that. I'm more of an out-in-the-sticks girl. I grew up in rural, corn and soybean field Ohio. My house was surrounded on three sides by corn fields and my road was of the chip and seal type without any lines. During the big snows of winter, we were pretty much left to fend for ourselves because there were so few houses on our little road that the snow plows did not usually bother to plow our road. I'm the youngest of three, but there are only 26 months between the three of us. My stepsister is a little older, but I'm really not sure how much. Is that bad?
I have always felt like I was my own person, uniquely me and happy to be so. I found it strangely funny when a one time friend told me amid my painful adolescent years full of acne, bad decision perms (thanks, Mom), and first rebellions that I "tried too hard to be different." I very nearly took it as a compliment as I considered her brand name tee shirt and bleached blond highlights and scornfully told her, "You try too hard to be the same."
Though I was and am me and only me, I have never been a very independent person; something I wish I could change, but it is so fundamental to my person that I don't know if it ever will. I do not like making decisions, especially when deciding between two things that I like. I always used to ask my mom which gown my Barbie doll should wear because I could not decide which I liked better. She always made me choose, but I continued to ask. I also lack independence in that I hate driving. I don't just hate it. I fear it. I am perfectly fine with just about anyone else driving, but driving myself somewhere new just terrifies me. I drive only to and from work or the grocery store or my mother-in-law's house. It is super lame, but when asked to drive somewhere out of my comfort zone, I sort of panic.
I think the fact that I am from such a small town has both aided and paralyzed my capacity for friendship. My best friend has been my best friend for 20 years. I am 27 years old. My other best friend is one I met in college and we do not get to talk nearly enough, but can always pick up right where we left off. Since college, however, I have struggled to make friends. I had known the same group of people my whole life, then started again in a small college community, which worked very well for me. I loved college and it loved me. I have never considered myself to be a popular type, but in college, I just knew and loved everyone. I consider it one of the greatest honors of my life to have been elected as Homecoming Queen (though I did not win, I was the runner-up) my senior year of college. The struggle to make friends after college springs from having moved to an entirely new place where I know no one but my in-laws and co-workers (of which there are four) and from my fear of driving. Don't get me wrong, I have tried. I joined two different bible studies, participated in events, and took a few workshops. Nothing. In my older age, I find myself too shy (which has never been a problem for me) to talk to anyone. It's painful. The small town mindset is not ideal for forming new friendships as I had grown accustomed to already knowing everyone. I find it hard to talk about myself and find small talk to be a complete bore. I may be becoming a hermit and I am torn about how I feel about it. At least I have a lovely husband, two splendid cats, an adorable pup, and a few fish to keep me company.
Tuesday, Sept. 3: Describe where or what you come from. The people, the places, and/or the factors that make up who you are.
Wednesday, September 4: If you could take three months off from your current life and do anything in the world, what would you do? (bonus points for fun photos from Pinterest, but don’t forget to cite the source!)
Thursday, September 5: Pass on some useful advice or information you learned and always remembered.
Friday, September 6: A story about a time you were very afraid.
Monday, September 9: Take this short personality test and respond to your results. (at the end, find the detailed profile of your personality account – click “click to view” under “You” and “self awareness and personal growth.” You can even google your type and find more info on it!)
Tuesday, September 10: Describe a distinct moment when your life took a turn.
Wednesday, September 11: Share links to your favorite online shops, preferably with a few photos of your favorite items in each shop.
Thursday, September 12: Discuss ways that blogging or social media has changed you.
Friday, September 13: A self portrait
Monday, September 16: Write a public love letter to someone in your life. (It doesn’t necessarily need to be romantic.)
Tuesday, September 17: A memory you would love to relive.
Wednesday, September 18: Only photos
Thursday, September 19: Creative writing day: write a (very short) fictional story that starts with this sentence: “To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century.”
The story does not necessarily need to have a conclusion – you can leave your readers wishing for more!
Friday, September 20: React to this term: comfort.
Monday, September 23: A “life lately” post. What you’re up to, how you’re feeling, how you’re doing on your goals, etc. Bonus points for great photos!
Tuesday, September 24: Review a book, place, or product.
Wednesday, September 25: Write about a time you screwed up – a mistake you made.
Thursday, September 26: Go to a coffee shop. Order a favorite drink. Write about what makes you happy and what makes you sad. Or write about anything you’d like! Bonus points for including a photo from the coffee shop. *if you can’t make it to a coffee shop, at least leave your usual space and write someplace new.
Friday, September 27: An anonymous letter to your Facebook friends. Be as snarky as you’d like. (but don’t include people’s real names.)
Monday, September 30: Share a photo of something old. Maybe something that has personal history for you, that was passed down to you, and that has special meaning to you. Tell us about it and why it’s special.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Day 9, Thursday: A moment in your day
It's been a little bumpy. Let it be known that Max grew up with cats. He'd always been around cats and loved them. He lived with me at my mom's house until Kyle moved into our to-be-house and Polly bawk bawk the cat had lived peaceably enough with him (though Polly is not a dog person...). When we brought Fiona home as a 10 week old kitten, she and Max were instant friends. One of her very favorite things to do was climb onto an arm of the couch and try to jump on Max's back as he walked by. She also loved bathing him. She'd lick every inch of that dog. She's a little strange.
I don't wish to go into a lot of detail, but there was an accident (yes, it really was an accident) involving Max an Fiona, and after two emergency surgeries, overnight stays at the vet, and a lot of money spent, Fiona's eye could not be saved. I was distraught, believing that she would live a sad cat life, without balance, depth perception, or peripheral vision, and that no one would ever tell her what a beautiful girl she is. I visited her at the vet every day until she was released to us, looking like a little frankencat monster (she was also spayed at that time so they would not have to put her on anesthesia a third time). Kyle and I both told her that she was beautiful. And really, she was. She was so innocent and so sweet.
I needn't have worried about her quality of life being lessened by her early upset. Fiona is energetic, brave, smart, curious, sweet, and hilarious. With her one golden eye, she sits on my bookshelf and watches squirrels and cardinals at the bird feeder for hours. She is an outstanding little hunter and she is still incredibly curious. She has never met any animal or person she didn't like, and I've heard many a non-cat lover comment on this fine feline. She's outgoing and playful and such a delight. She lights up my days. I'm not ashamed to be a cat lady :)
(I wanted to post a picture of my other beautiful cat Polly, but it doesn't seem to want to post it. Perhaps another day...)
Day 8, Wednesday: A piece of advice you have for others.
Be kind. What reason could you possibly give to do otherwise?
Kindness is free. Kindness is contagious. The same can be said for bitterness. Would you rather spread bitterness or kindness? Would you rather be rudely pushed out of the way or welcomed with a warm smile?
I found this little gem of a saying this week:
I don't always feel gracious (especially when talking with telephone companies after long holds and automated systems for 20 minutes)... but that doesn't mean that I should be rude. What if I knew that my rudeness would ruin someone's day? Would I still act brashly towards that person? No. No, I would not. I'm very softhearted and I tend to take everything personally, so a few bitter comments can easily ruin my day. I'd hate to be the one who does that to someone else.
Be kind. Be gracious. Be nice. Smile and be polite. Make the day a little brighter for someone.
Kindness is free. Kindness is contagious. The same can be said for bitterness. Would you rather spread bitterness or kindness? Would you rather be rudely pushed out of the way or welcomed with a warm smile?
I found this little gem of a saying this week:
I don't always feel gracious (especially when talking with telephone companies after long holds and automated systems for 20 minutes)... but that doesn't mean that I should be rude. What if I knew that my rudeness would ruin someone's day? Would I still act brashly towards that person? No. No, I would not. I'm very softhearted and I tend to take everything personally, so a few bitter comments can easily ruin my day. I'd hate to be the one who does that to someone else.
Be kind. Be gracious. Be nice. Smile and be polite. Make the day a little brighter for someone.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Day 7, Tuesday: The thing(s) you’re most afraid of
I don't even want to talk about it. It's driving. I know I'm lame.
Day 6, Monday: If you couldn’t answer with your job, how would you answer the question, ‘what do you do’?
I am excited about this question. When I moved to SC two years ago, I knew it would be hard for me to make friends. I was right. I've joined two separate Bible studies, go to a Yoga class as often as possible, and go to many social events with my husband's work friends, but it is still so hard to get to know people. I remember going to that first Bible study and feeling like I did not get to know anyone, even after going for several weeks. Oh, I knew what each person did for a living, but how did that help me get to know them as people? It didn't. I have, since, thought about never answering the question, "What do you do?" with my job, which is an Administrative Assistant. How vanilla does that sound? It's not me. It's just how I make money. I do so much more than sit at a desk for 40 hours a week. Let me tell you some things I do:
I crochet. I am not a very good "hooker" because I have a lot of trouble following patterns, but I do enjoy it so much.
I sing/perform when cleaning my house, driving my car, making lunch, etc. I like to listen to Pandora Radio set to Show Tunes and dream of a career as a Disney singer or a Broadway actress.
I judge books by the cover... literally. I don't generally read books with boring or cheesy covers. I've made a few exceptions, but not enough to make me stop judging books by their covers.
I cook. I may not be the best cook in the world and I may not enjoy doing it, but I usually find that the food I've made is tasty. Kyle generally agrees.
I panic about silly things.
I talk to my animals as if they were people. I always tell my kitties and pup how beautiful they are.
I experiment with arts and crafts. One year, I want to do all handmade Christmas gifts.
I read and write very frequently. I read on my lunch breaks, waiting in lines, before bed, and at many meals, though usually not at dinner.
I crochet. I am not a very good "hooker" because I have a lot of trouble following patterns, but I do enjoy it so much.
I sing/perform when cleaning my house, driving my car, making lunch, etc. I like to listen to Pandora Radio set to Show Tunes and dream of a career as a Disney singer or a Broadway actress.
I judge books by the cover... literally. I don't generally read books with boring or cheesy covers. I've made a few exceptions, but not enough to make me stop judging books by their covers.
I cook. I may not be the best cook in the world and I may not enjoy doing it, but I usually find that the food I've made is tasty. Kyle generally agrees.
I panic about silly things.
I talk to my animals as if they were people. I always tell my kitties and pup how beautiful they are.
I experiment with arts and crafts. One year, I want to do all handmade Christmas gifts.
I read and write very frequently. I read on my lunch breaks, waiting in lines, before bed, and at many meals, though usually not at dinner.
Day 5, Sunday: Publicly profess your love and devotion for one of your friends.
Originally, this was supposed to be about a blogger friend. I don't really have one of those. I think that I have friends who blog. I definitely have aquaintences who blog... I just don't think any of us would be comfortable with me publically declaring love for them in a specific post. So... let me tell you a little about my best and longest friendship: Alicia Kyser :)
We met in second grade over some Barbies in Mrs. McCoy's class. We spent the year pretending to be mermaids playing fancy comb instruments, burrying and ultimately losing some Polly Pocket cats, and learning the multiplication tables. A few years down the road, we were sobbing in stereo over Leo's untimely death in Titanic, screaming ourselves sore at our first Hanson concert, drawing rude and inaccurate pictures of our enemy's future, and swimming at a local campground pool every day for the summer. Fast forward a bit and we were in the "finding ourselves" phase of teenhood... she with blue-black locks and me with fishnet stockings. Then slacking off in math class and tormenting our guy friend Josh... or playing volleyball in some dude's backyard and watching out for "jaguars!" Later in the same year, we both became extremely involved in our church, volunteering in the youth office, organizing the comedy nights, and showing up to just about every function that was could. Gosh, so many memories from my life involve her. She lived with my family for a whole summer one year, we did our Prom shopping together, we've since been to an additional two Hanson concerts and even finally met them together, and we ended up in the same little college in Kentucky.
Since my move to South Carolina two years ago, we have undergone the longest period of time we've ever spent apart. She came to visit me the summer I moved and Kyle and I were able to make it back to Ohio for New Year's Eve 2012... but that was the last time I saw her... almost a year and a half ago! It's too weird to not be around your best friend when you've essentially spent your whole life together. I am super excited to see her at the end of the month. She is a constant in my life and we shall be friends forever :)
We met in second grade over some Barbies in Mrs. McCoy's class. We spent the year pretending to be mermaids playing fancy comb instruments, burrying and ultimately losing some Polly Pocket cats, and learning the multiplication tables. A few years down the road, we were sobbing in stereo over Leo's untimely death in Titanic, screaming ourselves sore at our first Hanson concert, drawing rude and inaccurate pictures of our enemy's future, and swimming at a local campground pool every day for the summer. Fast forward a bit and we were in the "finding ourselves" phase of teenhood... she with blue-black locks and me with fishnet stockings. Then slacking off in math class and tormenting our guy friend Josh... or playing volleyball in some dude's backyard and watching out for "jaguars!" Later in the same year, we both became extremely involved in our church, volunteering in the youth office, organizing the comedy nights, and showing up to just about every function that was could. Gosh, so many memories from my life involve her. She lived with my family for a whole summer one year, we did our Prom shopping together, we've since been to an additional two Hanson concerts and even finally met them together, and we ended up in the same little college in Kentucky.
Since my move to South Carolina two years ago, we have undergone the longest period of time we've ever spent apart. She came to visit me the summer I moved and Kyle and I were able to make it back to Ohio for New Year's Eve 2012... but that was the last time I saw her... almost a year and a half ago! It's too weird to not be around your best friend when you've essentially spent your whole life together. I am super excited to see her at the end of the month. She is a constant in my life and we shall be friends forever :)
Day 4, Saturday: Favorite quote (from a person, from a book, etc) and why you love it
The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply that they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings.
-The Little White Bird by J.M. Barrie
One thing that most people know about me is that I love Peter Pan. I don't mean I love Disney's Peter Pan only (though I do love it), but the absolutely entrancing story of the little boy who wouldn't grow up. I'm sure my first experience of Peter Pan was the famous rendition of the play starring Mary Martin as Peter Pan. I remember my siblings and I playing Peter Pan ourselves and I was always Smee. I'm not sure why I never chose to be Wendy or even Tinkerbell. They were free since my sister and brother always played Peter and Captain Hook. Smee? I was a weird kid.
Disney's Peter Pan must have come next, though I am inclined to say that I preferred the Mary Martin version simply because my memory holds it more vividly...
Hook was lots of fun, of course, and I always have had a soft spot in my heart for it. It is, in a way, a fracture fairy tale, or at least an alternate fracture fairy tale ending of a beloved story. However, it is the only completely off-base version of Peter's adventures that I can stomach. More on that later, but I think this may have to do with the fact that I saw Hook before ever enbarking on reading the story of Peter Pan.
Needless to say, I was stoked when the 2003 live action Peter Pan movie came out, starring Jeremy Sumpter as Pan and Jason Isaacs and Mr. Darling/Captain Hook (in the traditional manner). In a time when I did not drive at all and rarely made it to town, I went to see the movie in theaters three times (once with such a large group that my now husband was there with his them girlfriend. Coincidentally, I was good friends with his then ex-girlfriend and had gone with her to the movie. Kyle had three generations of girlfriends all watching Peter Pan together... ah, little did he know...) I loved it so much, I could watch it every day. It is still one of my all-time favorite movies.
Then, of course, came Finding Neverland, which was exquisitely done if not entirely accurate.
After seeing all of these different renditions, I finally must have realized that they were based on just one work and read the book. I cannot even tell you how good it is. There is absolutely nothing like it. Read it. It's beautiful, witty, funny, daring, and amazing. It is one of my two very favorite books (yes, friends, I esteem it above Harry Potter. That may come as a shock, but there you go). Craving more, I did my research and found that Barrie had written Peter Pan as a minor character/story in a larger work called The Little White Bird. This book is kind of a hard one to find, and Pan is a character only in a pretty minor chapter, but it's such a lovely little book about a man and a boy in London and it contains several of my favorite quotes. Another one is: "What a ludicrous difference do these two nobodies make to each other." This quote was printed on Kyle's and my wedding programs.
The reason I like the quote about birds, wings, and faith so much is that, in my heart, it makes sense. I do not have perfect faith. I have faith that is true and strong, but it is not perfect. I am a fallible human. My faith gains and loses regularly. Barrie's story of Pan in The Little White Bird is that of his babyhood, and it is explained that babies are birds until they lose faith and can no longer fly. I'm butchering the concept, but in Barrie's wordsmith writing, it is completely beautiful. If I did have perfect faith, I have no doubt that I would fly.
-The Little White Bird by J.M. Barrie
One thing that most people know about me is that I love Peter Pan. I don't mean I love Disney's Peter Pan only (though I do love it), but the absolutely entrancing story of the little boy who wouldn't grow up. I'm sure my first experience of Peter Pan was the famous rendition of the play starring Mary Martin as Peter Pan. I remember my siblings and I playing Peter Pan ourselves and I was always Smee. I'm not sure why I never chose to be Wendy or even Tinkerbell. They were free since my sister and brother always played Peter and Captain Hook. Smee? I was a weird kid.
Disney's Peter Pan must have come next, though I am inclined to say that I preferred the Mary Martin version simply because my memory holds it more vividly...
Hook was lots of fun, of course, and I always have had a soft spot in my heart for it. It is, in a way, a fracture fairy tale, or at least an alternate fracture fairy tale ending of a beloved story. However, it is the only completely off-base version of Peter's adventures that I can stomach. More on that later, but I think this may have to do with the fact that I saw Hook before ever enbarking on reading the story of Peter Pan.
Needless to say, I was stoked when the 2003 live action Peter Pan movie came out, starring Jeremy Sumpter as Pan and Jason Isaacs and Mr. Darling/Captain Hook (in the traditional manner). In a time when I did not drive at all and rarely made it to town, I went to see the movie in theaters three times (once with such a large group that my now husband was there with his them girlfriend. Coincidentally, I was good friends with his then ex-girlfriend and had gone with her to the movie. Kyle had three generations of girlfriends all watching Peter Pan together... ah, little did he know...) I loved it so much, I could watch it every day. It is still one of my all-time favorite movies.
Then, of course, came Finding Neverland, which was exquisitely done if not entirely accurate.
After seeing all of these different renditions, I finally must have realized that they were based on just one work and read the book. I cannot even tell you how good it is. There is absolutely nothing like it. Read it. It's beautiful, witty, funny, daring, and amazing. It is one of my two very favorite books (yes, friends, I esteem it above Harry Potter. That may come as a shock, but there you go). Craving more, I did my research and found that Barrie had written Peter Pan as a minor character/story in a larger work called The Little White Bird. This book is kind of a hard one to find, and Pan is a character only in a pretty minor chapter, but it's such a lovely little book about a man and a boy in London and it contains several of my favorite quotes. Another one is: "What a ludicrous difference do these two nobodies make to each other." This quote was printed on Kyle's and my wedding programs.
The reason I like the quote about birds, wings, and faith so much is that, in my heart, it makes sense. I do not have perfect faith. I have faith that is true and strong, but it is not perfect. I am a fallible human. My faith gains and loses regularly. Barrie's story of Pan in The Little White Bird is that of his babyhood, and it is explained that babies are birds until they lose faith and can no longer fly. I'm butchering the concept, but in Barrie's wordsmith writing, it is completely beautiful. If I did have perfect faith, I have no doubt that I would fly.
Day 3, Friday: Things that make you uncomfortable
Lots of things fall into the uncomfortable category for me. In fact, I'd venture to say that I am sometimes uncomfortable in my own skin. Today i contemplated calling in sick because I felt too ugly to work. Why can't that be an excuse? Since there are so many things that make me uncomfortable, today's post will be in list form. Please keep in mind that these items should be taken in no particular order.
1. Excessive spending. This is the main reason that my hair never gets cut enough, my "new" clothes are pretty much all four or more years old, and I don't own 11 cats.
2. Having Happy Birthday sung to me. Because what face are you supposed to make?
3. Super unspecific directions or inquiries. For instance: Did you send that thing to that guy? When someone is this unspecific with me, I feel like they must have a reason to believe that I'd know what the heck they're talking about, or they wouldn't be asking. So then I feel like a deer in headlights as I try to remember all of the stuff I sent to different people and mentally decide which item they might mean.
4. Going to the gym. This makes me uncomfortable for a great many reasons. Some include: I own one pair, ONE pair, of yoga pants. They are too short. I feel like an enormous nerd wearing too-short pants in my house, let alone in public. Another reason is because I am too shy to ask how to use any of the equipment and so I either stand there for 20 minutes trying to figure it out on my own, or just hop on and hope for the best. I also hate working out and give up too easily and I look disgusting covered in sweat and ugly gym clothes. These all add up to extreme selfconsciousness at the gym, thus, I hate going to the gym.
5. IVs, bags of blood, tourniquets, and various other medical equipment. My husband is an EMT and I worked (as a registration clerk) in an Emergency Room for a year and a half, but even thinking of bone cutters or hypodermic needles can make me feel queasy. I used to like watching House and my college quadmates loved Grey's Anatomy, but those shows absolutely live for showing needles going into arms and whatnot. No, thank you.
6. When doors close and whispering ensues behind them. This can be during family holidays, work, parties, public places, anywhere. Call me an egomaniac, but I know they are talking about me!
7. Driving in new and unfamiliar places. Driving in foul weather. Driving. Period. I am never at ease behind the wheel. A very dear friend of my sister's died in a car accident just before his 18th birthday. I was 15 at the time and it scared me out of getting my permit or license... I did not actually get my driver's license until I was 19 and my mom forced me to... and I was in an accident two weeks later. It was not a bad accident at all, but I was so shaken that I did not drive again until I was 21. I'm now almost 27 and I only drive to and from work and I don't really know how to get almost anywhere else.
8. "Love scenes." I don't want to see other people doing it. It spoils the whole movie for me. It makes me feel ridiculously uncomfortable and always has! It's way, way, worse when I happen to be watching the movie with a family member or something, though. Ugh.
9. Dancing. I have two left feet and no rhythm. I look like Kermit the Frog when I dance and I'm so selfconscious about it that I don't even enjoy it a little bit. It's really a shame because I know dancing gives so many people so much joy, and even people who aren't gifted dancers enjoy it. I just can't. The one exception is contra dance :)
10. Lying. I'm honestly an honest person :) I don't even tell the "little white lies" to stay out of trouble, like "Sure I remember Great Uncle Moe." No. I don't. Who the heck is that? Oh, this old coot standing right in front of me? Whoops.
1. Excessive spending. This is the main reason that my hair never gets cut enough, my "new" clothes are pretty much all four or more years old, and I don't own 11 cats.
2. Having Happy Birthday sung to me. Because what face are you supposed to make?
3. Super unspecific directions or inquiries. For instance: Did you send that thing to that guy? When someone is this unspecific with me, I feel like they must have a reason to believe that I'd know what the heck they're talking about, or they wouldn't be asking. So then I feel like a deer in headlights as I try to remember all of the stuff I sent to different people and mentally decide which item they might mean.
4. Going to the gym. This makes me uncomfortable for a great many reasons. Some include: I own one pair, ONE pair, of yoga pants. They are too short. I feel like an enormous nerd wearing too-short pants in my house, let alone in public. Another reason is because I am too shy to ask how to use any of the equipment and so I either stand there for 20 minutes trying to figure it out on my own, or just hop on and hope for the best. I also hate working out and give up too easily and I look disgusting covered in sweat and ugly gym clothes. These all add up to extreme selfconsciousness at the gym, thus, I hate going to the gym.
5. IVs, bags of blood, tourniquets, and various other medical equipment. My husband is an EMT and I worked (as a registration clerk) in an Emergency Room for a year and a half, but even thinking of bone cutters or hypodermic needles can make me feel queasy. I used to like watching House and my college quadmates loved Grey's Anatomy, but those shows absolutely live for showing needles going into arms and whatnot. No, thank you.
6. When doors close and whispering ensues behind them. This can be during family holidays, work, parties, public places, anywhere. Call me an egomaniac, but I know they are talking about me!
7. Driving in new and unfamiliar places. Driving in foul weather. Driving. Period. I am never at ease behind the wheel. A very dear friend of my sister's died in a car accident just before his 18th birthday. I was 15 at the time and it scared me out of getting my permit or license... I did not actually get my driver's license until I was 19 and my mom forced me to... and I was in an accident two weeks later. It was not a bad accident at all, but I was so shaken that I did not drive again until I was 21. I'm now almost 27 and I only drive to and from work and I don't really know how to get almost anywhere else.
8. "Love scenes." I don't want to see other people doing it. It spoils the whole movie for me. It makes me feel ridiculously uncomfortable and always has! It's way, way, worse when I happen to be watching the movie with a family member or something, though. Ugh.
9. Dancing. I have two left feet and no rhythm. I look like Kermit the Frog when I dance and I'm so selfconscious about it that I don't even enjoy it a little bit. It's really a shame because I know dancing gives so many people so much joy, and even people who aren't gifted dancers enjoy it. I just can't. The one exception is contra dance :)
10. Lying. I'm honestly an honest person :) I don't even tell the "little white lies" to stay out of trouble, like "Sure I remember Great Uncle Moe." No. I don't. Who the heck is that? Oh, this old coot standing right in front of me? Whoops.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Day 2: Educate us on something you know a lot about or are good at.
I had to brainstorm this subject. Off the top of my head, I could not really come up with anything I wanted to brag about or anything like it. Here is part of my little brainstorm list:
Things I'm good at:
procrastinating, crocheting plan granny square afghans or scarves, killing houseplants, singing loudly in my car when no one else is with me, writing letters, reading, naming cats (I consider myself something of an expert in this area but I don't think it can be taught), use descriptive and funny similes (my sister just pointed this skill out to me yesterday when I talked to her on the phone. She said that I should have been a writer for the old British Comedy show Black Adder with Rowan Atkinson when I described the way my husband's cactus looked when I left it out during a frost [like a melted Grinch] and the way a certain pizza my mom likes tastes [like a bandaged foot], but again, i don't think this is a skill that can be taught), and... making awesome chocolate chip cookies. So I think that's going to have to be the winner, even though it is kind of lame. I do make various crafty projects that I'd like to talk about but I'm in no place to post a picture tutorial at the moment. Maybe some day.
Now, you're going to think my ability to make these yummy cookies is rather lame because I'm really just adjusting an age-old recipe to my liking. Start with the classic Nestle Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe (or, if you are a FRIENDS fan, "Neslay Tulouse" ala Phoebe)...
It can be found here: http://www.verybestbaking.com/recipes/18476/Original-NESTL%C3%89-TOLL-HOUSE-Chocolate-Chip-Cookies/detail.aspx
For my take on this recipe, omit the chopped nuts entirely. Why on earth would you put chopped nuts in these cookies? I'm just not a nut girl. I'll eat some raw almonds... maybe some macadamia nuts... but I'm not nuts about them. Oh, the cleverness of me! (Ten points if you got that Peter Pan reference).
Okay, where was I? Ah, yes, omit the nuts. Time for what we'll add.
Add: 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa, an extra teaspoon on vanilla extract, and just a smidge of milk (I put this in because that extra 1/2 cup of dry ingredient can make the dough too thick). This used to complete my recipe until about two weeks ago when I decided I'd try one more addition. I read that adding just a little corn starch to cookie dough would produce fluffy, chewy, non-crunchy cookies. Intrigued, I added two teaspoons of cornstarch to my dough. To my delight, my cookies came out thick and chewy and dreamy as a sunset in Hawai'i. Yeah, they were that good. Kyle, my husband, pronounced them "the best cookies I've ever eaten." Although he does say that sort of thing a lot. Whenever I make chili, for instance, it is not just good, but the best chili he's ever had. Since I'm not all that in to cooking, I'll take it.
So, here we go with the breakdown. I hope you'll enjoy a batch of these yummy goodness chewy cookies soon. My saliva is about to drown me just thinking about them.
Ingredients:
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons corn starch
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened (yes, I use butter for both sticks. I know some use margarine for one, but I'm not a margarine buyer)
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2 cups (12 oz. package) semi sweet chocolate chips (or use chocolate chunks or something. I've even gotten desperate at some point and chopped up a large, extra dark chocolate bar for my "morsels")
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa
Dash of milk
Preheat oven to 350, keeping in mind that different ovens may require different settings. My old one had to be adjusted by 25 degrees all the time, so know your own oven. Combine flour, baking soda, salt, and corn starch in a small bowl; set aside. Beat butter, sugars, and vanilla in a large mixing bowl until creamy and delicious-looking. Add each egg, beating thoroughly between additions. Gradually add flour mixture and cocoa. Dough will thicken. Add a dash of milk (not much, just a little!) and beat some more, until dough is more doughy and less thick and rigid, if that makes sense. Then add the chocolate chips or chunks and stir with a big wooden spoon (or similar). Drop my rounded tablespoon (or roll into balls) on ungreased cookie sheet and bake for about 9 minutes (11 if they haven't solidified). Note that these cookies should NOT look crispy and crunchy... don't burn the bottoms trying to get the tops to crack and wrinkle. And also keep in mind that they will continue cooking on the hot cookie sheet once you pull them out of the oven. After cooling on baking sheets 2-5 minutes, remove to cooling racks. I like to eat them warm and gooey from the oven, but use your best judgement and don't burn your tongue or fingers!
Here's another little tip for soft cookies. You know how they harden and get nasty after a few days storage, if you happen to have any self control and don't eat them the first day? When you put them in plastic containers that may not have the high tech freshness seal of Tupperware (like I want to spend that kind of moola when I can just reuse a Cool Whip tub!), add a piece of white bread on top. In about a day, the bread will get as hard as cafeteria pizza, the kind that you can smack on the plywood cafeteria tables and actually take a chunk out of the table (not that this ever happened at MY school... heh heh) and your cookies will remain scrumptiously soft. I say use white bread because it won't spread a flavor to your cookies like rye or pumpernickel might, but I don't know since I've never put pumpernickel in with my cookies. I can't bear to take the risk. Enjoy!
Things I'm good at:
procrastinating, crocheting plan granny square afghans or scarves, killing houseplants, singing loudly in my car when no one else is with me, writing letters, reading, naming cats (I consider myself something of an expert in this area but I don't think it can be taught), use descriptive and funny similes (my sister just pointed this skill out to me yesterday when I talked to her on the phone. She said that I should have been a writer for the old British Comedy show Black Adder with Rowan Atkinson when I described the way my husband's cactus looked when I left it out during a frost [like a melted Grinch] and the way a certain pizza my mom likes tastes [like a bandaged foot], but again, i don't think this is a skill that can be taught), and... making awesome chocolate chip cookies. So I think that's going to have to be the winner, even though it is kind of lame. I do make various crafty projects that I'd like to talk about but I'm in no place to post a picture tutorial at the moment. Maybe some day.
Now, you're going to think my ability to make these yummy cookies is rather lame because I'm really just adjusting an age-old recipe to my liking. Start with the classic Nestle Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe (or, if you are a FRIENDS fan, "Neslay Tulouse" ala Phoebe)...
It can be found here: http://www.verybestbaking.com/recipes/18476/Original-NESTL%C3%89-TOLL-HOUSE-Chocolate-Chip-Cookies/detail.aspx
For my take on this recipe, omit the chopped nuts entirely. Why on earth would you put chopped nuts in these cookies? I'm just not a nut girl. I'll eat some raw almonds... maybe some macadamia nuts... but I'm not nuts about them. Oh, the cleverness of me! (Ten points if you got that Peter Pan reference).
Okay, where was I? Ah, yes, omit the nuts. Time for what we'll add.
Add: 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa, an extra teaspoon on vanilla extract, and just a smidge of milk (I put this in because that extra 1/2 cup of dry ingredient can make the dough too thick). This used to complete my recipe until about two weeks ago when I decided I'd try one more addition. I read that adding just a little corn starch to cookie dough would produce fluffy, chewy, non-crunchy cookies. Intrigued, I added two teaspoons of cornstarch to my dough. To my delight, my cookies came out thick and chewy and dreamy as a sunset in Hawai'i. Yeah, they were that good. Kyle, my husband, pronounced them "the best cookies I've ever eaten." Although he does say that sort of thing a lot. Whenever I make chili, for instance, it is not just good, but the best chili he's ever had. Since I'm not all that in to cooking, I'll take it.
So, here we go with the breakdown. I hope you'll enjoy a batch of these yummy goodness chewy cookies soon. My saliva is about to drown me just thinking about them.
Ingredients:
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons corn starch
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened (yes, I use butter for both sticks. I know some use margarine for one, but I'm not a margarine buyer)
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2 cups (12 oz. package) semi sweet chocolate chips (or use chocolate chunks or something. I've even gotten desperate at some point and chopped up a large, extra dark chocolate bar for my "morsels")
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa
Dash of milk
Preheat oven to 350, keeping in mind that different ovens may require different settings. My old one had to be adjusted by 25 degrees all the time, so know your own oven. Combine flour, baking soda, salt, and corn starch in a small bowl; set aside. Beat butter, sugars, and vanilla in a large mixing bowl until creamy and delicious-looking. Add each egg, beating thoroughly between additions. Gradually add flour mixture and cocoa. Dough will thicken. Add a dash of milk (not much, just a little!) and beat some more, until dough is more doughy and less thick and rigid, if that makes sense. Then add the chocolate chips or chunks and stir with a big wooden spoon (or similar). Drop my rounded tablespoon (or roll into balls) on ungreased cookie sheet and bake for about 9 minutes (11 if they haven't solidified). Note that these cookies should NOT look crispy and crunchy... don't burn the bottoms trying to get the tops to crack and wrinkle. And also keep in mind that they will continue cooking on the hot cookie sheet once you pull them out of the oven. After cooling on baking sheets 2-5 minutes, remove to cooling racks. I like to eat them warm and gooey from the oven, but use your best judgement and don't burn your tongue or fingers!
Here's another little tip for soft cookies. You know how they harden and get nasty after a few days storage, if you happen to have any self control and don't eat them the first day? When you put them in plastic containers that may not have the high tech freshness seal of Tupperware (like I want to spend that kind of moola when I can just reuse a Cool Whip tub!), add a piece of white bread on top. In about a day, the bread will get as hard as cafeteria pizza, the kind that you can smack on the plywood cafeteria tables and actually take a chunk out of the table (not that this ever happened at MY school... heh heh) and your cookies will remain scrumptiously soft. I say use white bread because it won't spread a flavor to your cookies like rye or pumpernickel might, but I don't know since I've never put pumpernickel in with my cookies. I can't bear to take the risk. Enjoy!
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Every day in May
Well, alright. I admit that I have never been good at keeping up a blog, save for the first maybe two glorious years of Xanga, which became so overshadowed by Myspace, which essentially lost out to Facebook. From the time I was about seven until around my 18th year, I kept a very regular journal. I have countless diaries from the years in which I'd write every single day. I did not only enjoy journaling, but I always thought I'd like to be a novelist "when I grow up." Unfortunately, I've neglected to write anything at all for so long that I feel displaced from it. I've had a fair few people tell me that they look forward to reading my facebook status each time I make a post. I've had just a very small number read the novel I started in 2007 (unfinished as of yet)... and now I think it's time for me to start a blog back up, if only for my sake.
An old friend of mine from elementary school posted this challenge that she had seen posted by another blog keeper, and I thought it was a good challenge to get me back on this silly blog. I'm a bit behind... The challenge is to post for every day in May, following the prompts given. And off we go:
It all started at my house. Really. I purposely born at home, and though I had little choice in the matter, I've always had a sense of pride that this made me somewhat unique. I'm the youngest of three with only 26 months between all of us. My parents divorced when I was five and my dad moved to Hawaii a few years later. My mom remarried when I was seven. I lived out in the country in northeast Ohio on a chip and seal road without any lines and barely enough room for a car going each direction. Our home was surrounded by cornfields and later, about an acre of our land was dedicated to our pygmy goats. Julianna and Jimmy (my sister and brother) were two and one years ahead of me in school, which always made me feel somewhat overshadowed. It didn't help that I looked so much like my sister and teachers constantly called me by her name. It was like I hardly had a chance to be ME because they were always waiting for me to be smart and shy like Julianna or bored and troublesome like Jimmy. The need to be my own person led me to spend my last two years of high school in a different school, learning cosmetology as a trade. Though I passed my State Board testing with flying colors, I did not wish to pursue a career as a stylist. I had been praying about college pretty much my baptism at 15 and I decided on Kentucky Christian College (now University) after attending their Summer In The Son program in the summers of 2002, 2003, and 2004. KCU was uncommonly instrumental in shaping me into the woman I am now. I had some incredible teachers. I made some eternal friendships. I had the best four years at that little school, which did so much for me from leading me to a two month mission trip in England to showing my why dating someone my first semester was a huge mistake.
Since I graduated with my Bachelor of Arts in Humanities and Biblical Studies five years ago, I have worked in various clerical jobs, married a wonderful man, moved to South Carolina, and bought a house. Kyle and I have a ten year old grey cat named Polly, a four year old black Mongolian smooth coat chow chow named Akira, and a three year old, one eyed calico cat named Fiona. I work in a pretty little office and Kyle is an EMT. Our lives are not exactly glamorous or exciting, but they're ours we live the best way we know.
An old friend of mine from elementary school posted this challenge that she had seen posted by another blog keeper, and I thought it was a good challenge to get me back on this silly blog. I'm a bit behind... The challenge is to post for every day in May, following the prompts given. And off we go:
The List
- Day 1, Wednesday: The story of your life in 250 words or less (or one paragraph… no one will be counting your words… probably)
- Day 2, Thursday: Educate us on something you know alot about or are good at. Take any approach you’d like (serious and educational or funny and sarcastic)
- Day 3, Friday: Things that make you uncomfortable
- Day 4, Saturday: Favorite quote (from a person, from a book, etc) and why you love it
- Day 5, Sunday: Publicly profess your love and devotion for one of your blogger friends. What makes them great? Why do you love them? If you don’t have blogger friends, talk about a real-life friend or even a family member
- Day 6, Monday: If you couldn’t answer with your job, how would you answer the question, ‘what do you do’?
- Day 7, Tuesday: The thing(s) you’re most afraid of
- Day 8, Wednesday: A piece of advice you have for others. Anything at all.
- Day 9, Thursday: A moment in your day (this can be just a photo or both a photo and words)
- Day 10, Friday: Most embarrassing moment (s). Spill.
- Day 11, Saturday: Sell yourself in 10 words or less
- Day 12, Sunday: What do you miss? (a person, a thing, a place, a time of your life…)
- Day 13, Monday: Issue a public apology. This can be as funny or as serious or as creative as you want it to be.
- Day 14, Tuesday: Ten things that make you really happy
- Day 15, Wednesday: A Day in the life (include photos from throughout your typical day – this could be “a photo an hour” if you’d like)
- Day 16, Thursday: Something difficult about your “lot in life” and how you’re working to overcome it
- Day 17, Friday: A favorite photo of yourself and why
- Day 18, Saturday: Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to be descriptive about what you remember and how you felt.
- Day 19, Sunday: Five of your favorite blogs and what you love about them
- Day 20, Monday: Get real. Share something you’re struggling with right now.
- Day 21, Tuesday: A list of links to your favorite posts in your archives
- Day 22, Wednesday: Rant about something. Get up on your soapbox and tell us how you really feel. (a pet peeve, a current event, a controversial topic, something your husband or roommate or neighbor or boss does that really ticks you off)
- Day 23, Thursday: Things you’ve learned that school won’t teach you
- Day 24, Friday: Your top 3 worst traits
- Day 25, Saturday: Something someone told you about yourself that you’ll never forget (good or bad)
- Day 26, Sunday: Something you read online. Leave a link and discuss, if you’d like.
- Day 27, Monday: A letter to your readers
- Day 28, Tuesday: Only pictures
- Day 29, Wednesday: Five songs or pieces of music that speak to you or bring back memories. Use Grooveshark or YouTube to include them in the post
- Day 30, Thursday: React to this term: Letting Go
- Day 31, Friday: A vivid memory
It all started at my house. Really. I purposely born at home, and though I had little choice in the matter, I've always had a sense of pride that this made me somewhat unique. I'm the youngest of three with only 26 months between all of us. My parents divorced when I was five and my dad moved to Hawaii a few years later. My mom remarried when I was seven. I lived out in the country in northeast Ohio on a chip and seal road without any lines and barely enough room for a car going each direction. Our home was surrounded by cornfields and later, about an acre of our land was dedicated to our pygmy goats. Julianna and Jimmy (my sister and brother) were two and one years ahead of me in school, which always made me feel somewhat overshadowed. It didn't help that I looked so much like my sister and teachers constantly called me by her name. It was like I hardly had a chance to be ME because they were always waiting for me to be smart and shy like Julianna or bored and troublesome like Jimmy. The need to be my own person led me to spend my last two years of high school in a different school, learning cosmetology as a trade. Though I passed my State Board testing with flying colors, I did not wish to pursue a career as a stylist. I had been praying about college pretty much my baptism at 15 and I decided on Kentucky Christian College (now University) after attending their Summer In The Son program in the summers of 2002, 2003, and 2004. KCU was uncommonly instrumental in shaping me into the woman I am now. I had some incredible teachers. I made some eternal friendships. I had the best four years at that little school, which did so much for me from leading me to a two month mission trip in England to showing my why dating someone my first semester was a huge mistake.
Since I graduated with my Bachelor of Arts in Humanities and Biblical Studies five years ago, I have worked in various clerical jobs, married a wonderful man, moved to South Carolina, and bought a house. Kyle and I have a ten year old grey cat named Polly, a four year old black Mongolian smooth coat chow chow named Akira, and a three year old, one eyed calico cat named Fiona. I work in a pretty little office and Kyle is an EMT. Our lives are not exactly glamorous or exciting, but they're ours we live the best way we know.
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