snapshots

A for Effort.

2012-02-08T12:00:00.000-06:00

There is no one better to have by your side during a crisis than my husband.

He is pretty good at celebrating also, but he is REALLY good at responding when life throws you curve balls.

Take, for example, our recent EXTREMELY UNFORTUNATE AND ILL-TIMED discovery of a sopping wet mattress due to a (surprise!!!!) ceiling leak.

I held it together for day one but on day two, and more leakage...let's just say my wits were not about me. In fact, my wits were spilling out of my ears.

Adam, so calm, so cool, so collected, says ever-so dearly, "Hey, you know, no big deal. We'll just set up the air mattress. It'll be like camping...in our living room!"

To which I sweetly responded, "THAT IS MY WORST NIGHTMAAAAAAARE."

To which he said, "Your worst nightmare would include way more animals."

Touche.

Question:

2012-01-31T12:00:00.000-06:00

Do other people have as many awkward social interactions as me?

Related:

Are other people as aware of their awkwardness during the aforementioned awkward interaction as me?

Further:

Does this line of thinking make me an extreme narcissist?

Even Further:

Does the fact that I am asking such a question on my own personal blog make me like, sooooo postmodern?

p.s. Not to be super pushy but if you are looking for a delicious treat and/or a breakfast recipe, make these. I have made the "bites" both times. The first time I did exactly as I was told. The second time I got super daring and REPLACED the chocolate chips with 1/2 c dried cranberries and 1/2 c almonds. THEY ARE SO GOOD! I eat them with yogurt in the morning. (My dad just gagged at my recipe suggestion. AGAIN.)
Note: I had the best luck with these when a) using my hands to mix (so I could tell when the granola was moist) and b) by using my cupcake pan WITH NO LINERS. Otherwise it is messy. And that is just no fun.

p.s.s. Raise your hand if you did indeed find my p.s. to be "super pushy." Sometimes writing off the cuff can be hilarious.

Queen for a day.

2012-01-30T12:00:00.000-06:00

Remember when you were a little kid and had to write that essay that started off like "If I got to be President for a day, I would..." and then what followed was a laundry list of promises that sounded eerily similar to the same exact promises we made to each other when running for student council? (Four day school weeks! Free pop for everyone! No more MEATLOAF MONDAYS! PIZZA PARTIES EVERY DAY! It's our RIGHT! WHO'S WITH ME?!)

No one asks me anymore what I would do if I called the shots. Probably because I'm an "adult" and therefore I "make my own decisions." HAHA. Just kidding guys. I don't really know what I'm doing most of the time and even when I think I do, I am often proven wrong by this little thing called Life.

The point is, I tried this new recipe last week. My b-f-f Sarah said I need to embrace the crock pot and you know what? I agree. Who wants to cook when they get home from a day of work? Not this moi. I have way too much Damages to watch for that kind of thing.

So, I turned to the trusty Pinterest and found this gem.

It's risky, you know, trying a new recipe and all and for some reason the slow cooker heightens the anticipation because you just don't know what's going to happen when you remove the lid after 10 hours.

Luckily for everyone, this recipe was a major success. NOT ONLY did my husband eat this for three meals straight, but after his first bite, his eyes lit up and he said AND I QUOTE, "You are Queen of the Crockpot."

Soooo yeah. Movin up in the world. And as your Crockpot Queen, I would just like to say--nay, MANDATE--FREE POP FOR EVERYONE! And someone please invent calorie-free brownies already. IT'S OUR RIGHT!

Who's with me?!

p.s. Make this soup. Unless you are a hater (ahem, DAD) and upon hearing the very WORDS "sweet potato", wrinkle your nose in disgust and say, "Ughhhhh. That is gross." In which case you are banished from my kingdom but can buy your way back in with ice cream.

It's complicated.

2012-01-26T12:00:00.000-06:00

The problem with doing hard things is that well, it's hard.

It's a romantic notion, sure, but in practice? It can be kind of terrible.

I mean, who wants to wake up with their stomach all in knots? Who wants to risk failure or embarrassment or...well, really anything at all?

There is a reason, after all, that we have not done that hard thing already.

There is no reason, in many cases, that we have to do that hard thing at all.

So to choose it? To choose challenge, sacrifice, interruption in mere hopes that in the end, it will be worth it?

How absurd!

And yet...

Both/and.

2012-01-20T12:00:00.000-06:00

Feeling this, especially in this new, shiny season of order, planning, list-making, thinking, evaluating, re-evaluating:

"Being reflective is both a blessing and a curse, a potential for strength and for weakness. It can lead equally well toward truth or error. Life can be richer, more textured, more challenging, more meaningful. Likewise, it can become more barren, more threatening, more overwhelming."

-Daniel Taylor, The Myth of Certainty

Where our crap comes from.

2012-01-12T12:00:00.000-06:00

I encourage you to listen to this podcast. It was well worth the hour of my time.

Basically, it's about this guy who loves Apple products and is totally obsessed with technology. Then one day he wonders where it's all made. And so the adventure begins...

I love This American Life.

(FYI, for a very short time, it was also a TV show. It rocked. You can watch it for free here.)

p.s. For the first time in a looooong time, I am wearing brown AND black. I feel both daring and apologetic. My middle-school self would be horrified. To that middle-school Sara, I would like to say:

"Dude. Lay off. It's a new year and I'm pretty sure it's cool now. Also, at least I've discovered HAIR GEL! Oops. Sorry. That was a low blow. Forget everything I just said and go enjoy Surge while it lasts.
OH! And would you believe that one day you will get to watch Titanic in 3D?! TRUE! You know I wouldn't lie about something like that. (sidenote: Leo may not return your fan letters but life will go on.)
ALSO, right at this very moment your future husband is out there in the world with blond spiky hair playing guitar in a rock band soooo yeah. Ignore all those idiots around you, read more books, gossip less and you know what? Enjoy "family time." You'll miss it one day."

Lately:

2012-01-06T12:00:00.000-06:00

Reading:

A truestory about both the Chicago World Fair AND a Chicago serial killer (weirdcombo but it was really fascinating—and I usually dislike nonfiction!—and onlysometimes terrifying); a hilarious memoir(rumor has it that if you get the audio book she reads it herself!); aninteresting collectionof ideas regarding Christianity; and now, a novelthat, though I’m halfway through, I still can’t decide if I like (Catcher inthe Rye-esque).

Also, reallyliking these two blogs –especially posts like this(about journalism), this(about living an exceptional life) , this (aboutrelationships in a digital age) and this(about reputation vs character).

Also, consuming a ridiculousamount of news articles to be discussed with my husband which usually ends in usboth being really stressed out. But also feeling informed (ish) so…win? (Ipersonally have discovered thiswebsite to be a really fascinating take on the difficult—impossible?—fightto write without bias, especially, in my opinion, when it comes to politics.)

Watching:

Americain Primetime (if you only watch one, watch “The Misfit.” Trust me.)

Thinking:

Wouldn’t it be nice if I could bottle motivation and sip onit all year?

...and youuu?

I like you but...

2012-01-04T12:00:00.000-06:00

If you're anything like me, yesterday was a total drag as you muddled your way through a work day that felt never ending (times a billion since we were OUT OF COFFEE! OH THE AGONY!). You wanted to crawl back to last week and stay there forever--a land full of lattes! and date nights! and reading Tina Fey's book in less than 24 hours just because you could!!!

But you made it to today and things are better (read: two cups of coffee and four chocolates. WHAT?!).

It's glorious to take a break from "real life" and recharge and give yourself permission to do nothing in all sorts of ways. It's a treat to get enough sleep and not have pinched shoulders or even an eye twitch.

It's awesome to see all sorts of your favorite people and all be in the same physical space for more than five minutes. And to just laugh the crazy Liz Lemon laugh when you do things such as drop the peanut butter jar on the floor.

It's a huge blessing to spend time with your also-not-stressed husband. It's like, DUDE, we are SO MUCH MORE FUN RIGHT NOW! And look! We stayed up past midnight two days in a ROW! WE ARE AWESOME!

But then that time is gone and back to the reality of long days, never-ending lists and "crap we forgot LUNCHMEAT" as we drive away from the store and back home to put away Christmas decorations.

It's like, hey, yeah, I have a lot to be thankful for and I know I'll get adjusted and probably won't keep my resolutions and everything will be fine but for now I just can't help but think:

Um, 2012? I like you but you're crazy.

Still, still, still.

2011-12-22T12:00:00.000-06:00

I started to post a few days ago about Christmas--about why I love it, about my traditions, about what I've learned in the last year or two about celebrating.

It wasn't quite working out. I almost gave up. But then I went back and looked closely.

I found that all I really wanted to do was tell you about my Grandma. Forget that other stuff.

It is probably too soon for me to write about this and it won't be tidy. It may not even make sense.

But I'm going to do it anyway.

I hope you don't mind.

* * * * *

Christmas was my grandma's favorite holiday and she celebrated it so well, she made it mine, too.

As a child, I remember wakingup Christmas Eve, frosting Mom's sugar cookies then counting down the hours, theminutes, the seconds until Grandma's house. We'd eat lots of food (she always made too much) and then we'd open gifts.

If you watch one of our many home videos from such occasions, you will observe a sort of organized chaos.

Grandma always made the oldest grandkids pass out gifts, (which, as second-oldest, I secretly loved), so there are shouts of "Marie! Marie! This one's for you. This ONE'S FOR YOU!!!" and loud, inquisitive, slightly-panicked "Grandma! Grandma! What does this say?!" and impatient thrusting of gifts to aunts and uncles "Give this to Uncle Gene. UNCLE GENE."

Then we'd settle in with our packages and let 'er rip. In a cloud of tissue paper and paper boxes (which were to be carefully unwrapped and used again next year), you really can hear the squeals of excitement.

I know it sounds like we were spoiled--and we were--but none of our gifts were really that extravagant. We got the usual fare of skirts, sweatshirts, trucks and dolls.

But they were all for us, from Grandma (and Grandpa...but we all knew he spent shopping trips sipping coffee in the food court), and somehow that fact alone made them special. Even if they weren't the name brand (and they usually weren't).

One December, after a few years had passed, Grandma sat us all down and said, "Now, kids, you're all getting older and just too hard to buy for. There will be no more big gifts. But I have this idea..." and a new tradition was born. Thegrab bag!

All year, Grandma would stalk the drug store aisles for littleitems--batteries, socks, games, wallets, even underwear. She'd throw a party forher friends and they'd help her wrap all the gifts ("...and then we'd playchicken-foot," I can hear her say with a chuckle.).

On Christmas Eve, she'd haul out the bins of wrapped, unmarked gifts andeach grandkid would take turns digging around, feeling for anything lumpy (underwear), heavy (flashlight), or jingly (change taped to a pack of gum). Then we'd open one...and then another...and at the endwe'd barter our loot.

It was silly. It was the sort of thing that at face value maysound weird. But it quickly became a much-anticipated tradition. Who would openthe underwear this year? Who would walk away with the most $2 bills? Who wouldtrade a pack of cards for a scarf?

She loved it. We loved it. We loved her. She somehow managed to keep theexcitement and anticipation alive in a bunch of teenagers. What a feat!

I have found myself thinking about her a lot this season--especially when passing those ridiculous singing toys that move and shake while blaring a warbly version of 'Jingle Bells'. She loved those things.

I've been thinking about her and tradition and loss and celebration. And how to celebrate in the midst of loss and how to hold on to tradition despite change in time and circumstance.

About how to rejoice in a time of "great joy" when you feel like crap. About how to find hope when things seem hard and big and ugly and a bit scarier then you'd like to admit.

I've been thinking about all of these things because Grandma isn't here to celebrate Christmas at all anymore...so now what?

I was driving home the other day and heard this song (lasttrack) and I guess for me--for reasons I can't quite articulate, can't really even understand--this yearespecially, it is Christmas.

I can't tell you that next year your troubles will be miles away. Iwon't ask you to rock around a Christmas tree. I don't expect you to beltout joy to the world, especially if this is one of those hurting years.

Yet--

Still, still, still...

--despite the big things, the scary things, the disappointment, hurt,bitterness, anger, hardship, struggle, strife--

...one can hear the falling snow.

And together, broken, perhaps knocked down even, butnot destroyed, we

...dream, dream, dream of the Joyous day to come.

Merry Christmas, friends.

These days:

2011-11-29T12:00:00.000-06:00

...are memory-makers and as we squeezed around the borrowed table, elbow to elbow, it was a good kind of crowded. And I gave thanks in a knowing, deeper way that could not be said a year ago. And we made room for new traditions.

...are celebratory and I shamelessly turn my Christmas music up and sip eggnog and eat pecan pie for breakfast and watch Elf and start my days with this. And we get pine needles on our car seat and have a makeshift tree topper but who cares? And Adam strums the guitar and says, "We have a lot of fun together," and I enjoy that truth immensely.

...are a tug of war and it is hard to keep perspective in a world noisy of SALE! BUY NOW! and I get distracted. And it's difficult to strike a balance without feeling bitter or overwhelmed or judgmental or guilty and I read some timely words about giving thanks and consumption. And I'm still figuring it out.

...won't last and I think about Story and character and conflict and risk and hope and wonder how my perspective will change as the chapters progress. And I think about legacy and my delight at finding Grandma's handwriting in Mom's recipe box this weekend and I wonder what all of it means.

Shrug.

2011-11-04T14:56:00.003-05:00

Do you ever have weeks where you are just...off?

You try and try, but just can't get it together?

(Please say yes.)

In terms of seasons, this is one of learning. I would argue that each season is full of learning in some form or another, but this is one of actively trying to figure out how to live life with another human (oh, hi husband!) and learning What We Are About and What We Are Not About. It is also learning what I am About as a We and what He is About as a We. And how He can be He and I can be Me while We are being a We.

Something like that.

...Anyone still with me?

Anyway, I am learning a lot and I would be lying if I said we've got it all figured out.

(For some reason I just got a mental image of my parents reading this after almost 30 years together and laughing like little girl, if you think you'll ever have it all figured out, you've got another thing coming. --Not in a mean way, just in a let's-be-honest kind of way. And also in a you-have-always-been-such-a-perfectionist-just-relax kind of way. Point taken.)

Weeks like this try to teach me patience and maybe even a little bit of grace..over and over and over again.

You might be reading this and think that I mean patience and grace with my husband, and while I am learning that too, I'm really just talking about patience and grace with myself.

That's a hard thing to come by these days. I really mean that. I know so many people who feel they must be this or that and just canNOT be this or that...but what I am thinking the whole time they are talking is, "What?! You want to be like HER?! She is great! But you can do this and this and this...let's see HER do that!"

(These sentences are getting crazy. I better end this, and fast!)

((Drat! Too many parentheticals!!!))

The point is, I do not have it figured out.

I cannot do this or this or that...but I am doing this and this and that. And sometimes, I am really good at this or that. (But usually not both at the same time. Especially when I am busy comparing myself to you or you or you over there.)

I do not know what I am doing.

But I am trying.

And that is okay.

p.s. This Sunday is Daylight Savings. Fall BACK=get another hour! WOOHOO! Also it means I will stop calling my b-f-f- Katie who doesn't live in a Daylight Savings Time Zone and who has to every time say, "Yes, Sara, we are TWO HOURS apart. STILL." I mean really, who can remember that?!

Turn, turn, turn.

2011-10-31T12:00:00.000-05:00

I got to hear from one of my favorite teachers yesterday. He is a Ugandan bishop who blesses our church with his presence now and then. He is able to speak challenging words while grinning ear to ear. My mother-in-law heard him for the first time yesterday and said, "There is just something about him...some light about him..." and I agreed wholeheartedly.

He does not know me by name (though I think he would know my husband by name so maybe it counts as proxy?). I have only heard him a few times in my life. And maybe it's just because it is fresh in my brain but yesterday, his words seemed especially meaningful to me personally.

He was speaking about the seasons of life--both seasons in the natural world (fall, spring, summer, winter, rain, drought, etc.) and of our own individual lives. Of course, he mentioned this passage which made me think of this song and thus, I have had The Byrds in my head all day (and because we have been watching The Wonder Years lately, I keep waiting for Kevin's narrating voice to pop in).

Anyway, he was talking about making the best of each season as it comes. It's not that hard to apply this idea of seasons changing to one's life in theory, especially when the weather is turning ever cooler.

But even at the most basic level, this change does not always come easy.

Take me, for example. I inherited a very deep burning hatred for cold weather (thanks Dad!). I do not like it. I am a warm weather person through and through.

And, more than that, I do not even allow myself to face the reality that the season has changed. Spring has passed. Summer is gone. It is fall. (And soon it will be winter.)

I had to laugh as Bishop Zac remarked on attitudes such as mine. "Take today, for example," he said, in reference to the (mercifully!) warmer temperatures outside as the sun shone in, "People are wearing flip-flips maybe and even shorts, saying, 'It feels like summer outside!'...but it is not! It is fall! It is not summer! It is fall!"

(I apologize for my inability to capture his charming accent.)

It is fall.

This is not news to us. Quite clearly the natural world is changing--the light fades quickly in evening. Our heater is on. I dress in layers. Starbucks is carrying Pumpkin Spice Lattes.

And some of us (like my husband) claim to appreciate the fact that we get (get!) to experience all four seasons. How awesome! he says. (I say "claim" because then I remind him of the summer heat that makes him fussy...but his selective memory can remember no such thing.)

This is not the first time I've heard this message, even, or at least this idea.

But can I be honest and say that it has been a hard year? It has. For me. And for many dear to me. And thus, this message of "making the most" of a season should ring a bit hollow. For who can "make the most" of a horrible season? A time to dance is easy...what happens when it is a time to mourn? What of the seasons of drought, of strife?

I am not one to advocate a "grin and bear it" life nor even a "fake it 'til you make it" because if anything, I have learned this year especially, that in hard times, I need honesty and I need a community in which to be honest (or as honest as we let ourselves be with one another).

And maybe that is it. Maybe that is "making the most" of these seasons that are not fun, that are not ideal, that are not good in many ways and that leave us a bit bruised for awhile...the ability to come through. To survive it. To at the end, blink and say That was hard. But I am here. And look at all these people who walked through it with me!

For me, that season has passed. And yes, hard times will come again, sure, but they are not now. And that gives me hope.

Maybe you are in a gut-wrenching season. Maybe it is your time to dance. Maybe your season seems unexceptional. Maybe yours is a smidge too cloudy for your taste.

Make the most of it! Bishop Zac would say.

...It is not the end of the story, I would like to add in a whisper.

For it is fall.

...and one day, it will be spring again.

Things you should know:

2011-10-27T12:00:00.000-05:00

1. I am having a Very Good Day.
2. I PLUCKED A GRAY HAIR FROM MY HEAD THIS MORNING! (!!) ((!!!!!!!!))
3. I am trying not to let #2 trump #1.
4. I would like a good recipe that uses lentils, legumes, barley, quinoa...these sorts of things. Anyone?
5. I have one book, two Oprah magazines and two Cooking Light's on my desk. Overly ambitious/selfish? Maybe.
6. I made this on Monday and ate it with lots of friends. It was good. Time with friends was even better.
7. My husband used this word last night and I made him look it up. I was wrong. But seriously, who knew?! I think he got lucky.
8. We've been popping popcorn on the stove top for a snack. My favorite is adding butter + cinnamon + sugar. It is awesome. (It is not awesome when you think that you've closed the popcorn kernel bag and pick it up rather exuberantly only to discover that NOPE! Unopened! Kernel shower all over the kitchen floor!!! It was not awesome...but it was kind of funny.) Humor really makes life livable, you know?
9. We are watching a lot of this and while I love it, I have to confess that I've always kind of thought Winnie Cooper was super whiny/annoying. Also, did you know she is on book covers these days? True.
10. As I was zipping through the cafeteria at lunch today, I went to reach for a cup lid as a white-haired woman rounded the corner. She leaned in to me and said, shaking her head, "Everybody's in a hurry these days." "Yeah," I agreed with a smile. Funny how much Hurry you see when you look for it. Scary how much Hurry I have inside of me all the time...She made me miss my grandma.

No postponements.

2011-10-25T12:00:00.000-05:00

I am flying through this book--almost too quickly, for I don't want it to end.

I am completely invested in the story she tells of her marriage. She writes after 40 years of being a "we"--an honest look back at the many seasons they weathered together and written the summer he is diagnosed with cancer.

I have dog-eared many pages, wanting to tuck away some of her wisdom for another day and at times, relating wholeheartedly with some truth she has woven into her heartfelt story.

The one that I want to share with you right now is a simple sentence--one that stuck out to me as I sipped my (very) early morning coffee and read greedily.

I hope one day it can describe this very season of our life as the Robertsons. I think that with continued intention (and maybe some purposeful weaving of spontaneity), it can.

We were living life as fully as possible. No postponements. -Madeleine L'Engle

(Of course, a similar sentiment was shared by this guy. Also, him. Couldn't help myself.)

Pause.

2011-10-24T12:00:00.000-05:00

It's nice to get outta town now and then. Pack a bag (or five if you aren't sure what shoes you want to wear. I get it.). Hit the road. Breathe some new fresh air into your lungs and take it slow for a bit.

It was that kind of weekend for me--much anticipated, much needed. One of those that I'm not ready to let go of quite yet.

So if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to let my mind linger a bit on the easy breezy life that was last weekend--Cinnamon roll for breakfast! Donuts for lunch! Free brewery tour (?!) Where to next? walks with my husband down sunny streets playing Remember when?...--and wrap myself in blissful oblivion so as not to see the chaos that inevitably finds us on that drive back home.

These times away can make life inconvenient, but man are they ever worth it.

Awkward wave.

2011-10-21T12:00:00.000-05:00

Oh hi.

Remember when I (accidentally) lied to you about posting every day this month?

I hope we can still be friends.

You probably think I've had either a) a super-glamorous week full of all sorts of fun things that would make any Facebook stalker green with envy (OH WAIT! STILL NOT ON FACEBOOK!) or b) a super-awful week full of all sorts of terrible things that nobody wants vomited up to them in the form of a blog post.

The truth is it has been a fairly typical week. A healthy dose of good/bad which is rather unremarkable.

In fact, I even cheated and typed a whole post...and then deleted it. At least twice. I know!

And would you believe that I don't even have something grand to share with you today?! So rude of me. But let me catch you up to speed just for good measure:

-Been thinking about holidays. I know. ALREADY! Not so much about presents (okay a little bit though...what?! Like you haven't started a post-it of gift ideas for relatives that is in the back of your planner?! Oh. Me neither.)...but a lot about tradition. It's year two of marriage and I feel like we've been flying by the seat of our pants the last few years and let me go ahead and clarify that this is not the best way to go. It's been fun to think more intentionally about what do we want this day/season to be about? and how can we make this season more meaningful? I am pretty excited about a couple new ideas we've thrown into the mix. I'll keep you posted.

-Been reading like a maniac. When I was growing up, I always had a book in my hand. In fact, when I visited the library, I really can't remember a single time that I left without a whole stack teetering in my arms. Outside of my love for the Babysitter's Club (don't judge. p.s. I still heart Stacey!), I really didn't care what I was reading. (Well, as long as it was fiction.) It's been fun to make time for that again. I just finished a couple popular books and just last night I picked up one on a whim...and I already love it! And her! Too bad you don't get a free personal pan pizza for reading books as an adult...

-Been cooking some good stuff (thank you Pinterest). Pinterest is so tricky because you THINK you are being productive and even creative by just click-click-clicking your way through pretty things and great ideas and suddenly whaa?! I've been on here HOW long?! and then you shut down your computer and do nothing with any of those ideas. BUT. In the last week I have actually made three (THREE!) things from online recipes and I am not going to lie--that is a record for me and yes I am proud. Judge if you must. Here they are:

1. Shameless Copycat Starbucks Oatmeal Fudge Bars. YOU GUYS. Please, please, please find time to make these. I would offer to bring you some but...um...not a crumb survived.

2. Crockpot Chicken Tortilla Soup. This was pretty good. We just crumbled chips on top instead of the whole slicing-tortilla-thing because hello, if I can make something easier in order to watch more Parks and Rec on Netflix Instant THEN I SURE WILL. I think next time I will add corn as well.

3. Iced Pumpkin Goodness. This is embarrassing. I have no idea where I got this recipe. I would love to link to it...so if it is yours then please let me know! EDIT: This fabulous recipe is thanks to Amanda! Thanks for the reminder, Kristen!

Anyway, I made them. And they are good. (I should probably type "were" because by the time you read this I am sure I will be licking the crumbs off the plate but let's just try and pretend I have more self control than that, shall we?) Adam said they are less "cookie" and more "delicious top part of a muffin" but let's be honest, you don't really care much about semantics when it comes to sugary goodness now do you? (I will say that the icing was really thin. Probably baker's error. But just beware.)

Cookie ingredients:
-2 1/2 cup flour (I use half wheat and half all-purpose)
-1 tsp baking powder
-1 tsp baking soda
-3 tsp Pumpkin spice (OR 2 tsp cinnamon,1/2 tsp nutmeg and 1/2 tspcloves)
-1/2 tsp salt
-1/2 cup butter, softened
-1 1/2 cup sugar
-1 cup pumpkin puree
-1 egg
-1 tsp vanilla

Icing ingredients:

-2 cup confectioners sugar
-3 Tbsp milk (maybe less, maybe more)
-1 Tbsp melted butter
-1 tsp vanilla

Directions:
1- Preheat oven to 350* F.
2- Combine flour, baking powder and soda, spices and salt.
3- Cream together 1/2 cup butter and sugar. Add pumpkin, egg and 1 tspvanilla...beat until creamy.
4- Drop by rounded spoonfuls onto cookie sheet.
5- Bake 15-20 minutes in preheated oven.
6- (while cookies bake) Combine confectioners sugar, melted butter and vanilla....add milk little bylittle until you reach desired icing consistency.
7- Remove cookies from the oven and place on cooling mat or rack.
8- Drizzle cookies with icing while they are still warm.

If you've made it to the end of this post pat yourself on the back.

And get out there and enjoy the weekend. I know I will.

Deep breaths.

2011-10-13T12:00:00.000-05:00

It's one of those days when it's best I not spill words all over the page because if I do, I will likely need to apologize tomorrow.

So with that, I leave you with this gem and a phrase that my co-worker told me she replays in her head when dealing with a difficult person--it's not me, it's you.

(Just don't say it out loud.)

Buy this cute print here. (As seen on Pinterest.)

Take Good Care of Each Other.

2011-10-12T12:00:00.000-05:00

I heard this song not too long ago and it has popped into my mind more than once lately. Isn't it funny how that happens?

I usually have a hard time relating to other people's posts about music mostly because it's difficult to communicate why something strikes one just so. Why this song? Why this moment? etc.

But I think if I could have something burned into the back of my eyelids--something I see each time I blink (too graphic? sorry.)--it just might be Take Good Care of Each Other.

Because who couldn't use that reminder a little more often?

And how fun it is to look around and really recognize the people who take good care of me.

To those people, thank you.

NONCHALANT!

2011-10-11T12:00:00.000-05:00

It's no big deal. really. I mean, it's totally normal and makes complete sense and after all, it's that time of year.

There's a chill in the air and thus it is only natural to want to gather together, to share in warmth and conversation, to fill one's belly with warm and delicious things.

Or in some cases, to wiggle into another's abode UNINVITED and nibble on yummy deliciousness that IS NOT YOURS and stake a claim in this comfy new location just because YOU CAN.

To cause panic in a certain apartment dweller who finds out that a small vermin--tiny! miniscule! harmless! Who doesn't love a Gus Gus?!--has INVADED the downstairs apartment. MERE FEET FROM WHERE SHE LIVES!

(Okay fine, only one was spotted but we ALL KNOW that Gus Gus DOES NOT TRAVEL ALONE!)

But yeah, it's cool, as he said, "I wouldn't worry about it. Don't change anything unless you see one. Just pay attention."

And I'm like, dude, I'm not sure if you have met me, but I am the QUEEN OF COOL. HA! HA!

A MOUSE?! Downstairs?! Oh, my! Call me when you have NEWS because until then I am just one calm human.

No I did not check my shoes today. No I did not move our applies into the fridge. And check the cereal bag. And the granola bars. TWICE!

And EVEN IF I WOULD happen to see a sweet little furry critter zip across the floor...

Well.

I think we can all agree that there are more important things to worry about...

...WHOOPS! I lied.

Enough.

2011-10-10T12:00:00.000-05:00

I don't talk about politics that much, especially on this blog but even in social situations it is not likely that I will ever bring it up.

Partly because I don't feel sure enough or well-read enough or smart enough or assertive enough.

Partly because I have seen the devastation and polarization that politics can cause between friends, between strangers, between a nation. And I just don't want to contribute to the noise. What's the point?

But also, there is a part of me that thinks maybe I am just afraid. It seems so vulnerable.

And there is the fact that a lot of times, despite all that I read and try to digest and process and question...I just don't really fit into a voting box. And honestly, that is so much harder to articulate than just saying R, D or I. Where is the box for "I don't know but I am trying and in the process, trying not to lose heart"?

I don't have an agenda today. I don't have a candidate I do/don't want to endorse or a party that I love/hate.

I am trying to not become cynical, to respect others' opinions, to not scream when they say the exact opposite of what I believe to be true at the moment, to keep a sense of curiosity, to not lose hope.

I guess more than anything I am tired of the eye-rolling, blind dismissal of the Other. I am tired of reading hateful words. I am tired of this big distraction of Us vs Them while markets crash down around us. (But at least we still have our tightly-fisted convictions.)

Do you love the Tea Party? Do you hate it? Do you love Obama? Do you not? Do you love free market capitalism? Do you recoil at its principles?

Are you friends with someone who would say the opposite?

Could you participate in a conversation with them without lashing out? Are you willing to recognize that there are flaws in your own thinking? That there are things you --and your party don't understand?

It is my sincere hope that I will live to see the day when we all look back and say Remember those days...? and shake our head at the madness that was The Polarization Period.

We can all do better.

Starting with me.

...Thanks?

2011-10-07T12:00:00.000-05:00

Him: Hey, that sweater looks really good on you!

Me: Really? Thanks!

Him: (looking closer) Yeah...you know, it looks pretty hipster.

Me: What do you mean?

Him: You know...hipster.

Me: Like "trying to hard to be hipster" or "should be only worn by a hipster of which you are not" or are you using it as a synonym for trendy...?

Him: ...?

Me: ADAM! THIS IS IMPORTANT!

Him: I'll never tell.

Me: UGH!

Whoop, whoop.

2011-10-06T12:00:00.000-05:00

I hate to take up your time whining once again about the DMV but YOU GUYS.

I went. I churned out various (pointless) paperwork.

AND I CONQUERED!

I really can't describe the joy that filled my heart when I left victorious with newly registered plates in my little hands. I stopped myself just short of shouting "I DID IT!!!" from the cold concrete steps followed by numerous fist pumps.

Because it is quite a feat, after all.

I don't need to tell you how many hoops you need--I mean, get!--to jump through in order to pay a whole lot of money to legally drive a vehicle. It really makes a hard-working, tax-paying citizen feel good, you know? Like, oh YES! I get to prove my identity 50,000 times today and STILL walk in with fingers crossed that I will walk out a success.

Add in a change of state AND name in the last 18 months and you've got yourself a good ol' fashioned nightmare! WHEE!

...Are you still with me?

(You are such good friends.)

I could talk about the depressing lighting, the horrible folding chairs that surround a marble entryway where unhappy workers literally yell, "NEXT!" and have to deal with even more unhappy customers, which is even more depressing than the lighting (and that's saying something).

But that's how it goes sometimes. You take deep breaths, you square your shoulders, you take that number and you bring lots of reading materials and pretend to read them while furtively watching the clock tick-tock closer and closer to "Sorry, we're closed. Please take more vacation time tomorrow."

And sometimes...well, sometimes you just get lucky. There is no skill involved, there are many, many, endless variables of things that can go wrong. But there are days, like mine yesterday, when you get to emerge bursting with a strange sort of pride at defeating the mind-boggling bureaucracy that is the DMV.

You walk taller, head up, and you wipe the perspiration from your brow that gathered as your trembling hand pushed insurance card after driver's license after title after...DOESN'T MATTER! IT IS FINISHED!

And you enter your car and allow yourself one fist pump and a quiet gleeful, congratulatory "Yessss!" and you try to forget how much time, money and energy you just lost. As well as the fact that you will be back in two years.

Maybe even with a change of address--just for kicks.

Leavin on a Jet Plane.

2011-10-05T12:00:00.000-05:00

My husband is on a plane to Honduras and I can't help remembering a time not so long ago when he boarded a different flight en route to a two month stay in India.

We were dating and I was so dreading it and while it wasn't exactly my favorite thing ever, it turned out to be good. I mean he came back with an engagement ring so I can't be too upset, now can I? ;)

But what hit me the other day was how quickly things have changed in these last few years for him when it comes to travel. Back then, the year he went to India, he took his first flight just a few months before that trip. To France.

It was a big deal--first flight, first time out of the country and of course he was super excited to spend time at a monastery, which seems fitting for a guy who wore black T-shirts literally every day in college. He is totally on board with simple living to say the least. ha! (Until I started adding crazy things to his wardrobe such as color or pattern or sometimes...wait for it...BOTH AT THE SAME TIME! OH THE HORROR!)

(p.s. Adam if you are reading this yes, it is going somewhere and no, this is not all about your wardrobe. Love you!)

Anyway, there really was this shift that occured once he came back from France but especially once he returned from India. And not just the ring that landed on my finger shortly after (though we were just laughing last night at the madness of wedding planning as he found an old notebook with several wedding-related to-do lists).

It was the idea of possibility. It was like the world had suddenly opened itself up to him and instead of feeling this "I could never do that" or "I wouldn't know the first thing about trips like that" or "I've never even been on an AIRPLANE" and this weird idea of things being unattainable...just like that, a switch flipped.

And now, just a short time later, this man I married is not only extremely affected and shaped by his experiences that year in France and most absolutely in India, but he is also leading trips of youth across the globe and collecting stamp after stamp on his passport.

I don't believe that one has to travel internationally to experience this, though it has had quite an effect on both Adam and me personally through my own travels, and I do recognize that actually, these opportunities are not available to everyone--it costs a pretty penny for a plane ticket, after all. (Though as Adam has discovered, there are creative ways to raise the funds, it is still without question that we and he, specifically, has been extremely blessed with opportunities that we and he, specifically, does not take for granted.)

But it is fun to witness that change in him and to see that lens shift in his world. It's funny how one little shift and suddenly your whole perspective is changed with new colors spilling over everywhere you look. And the world can seem much brighter, both bigger and smaller at the same time, and you can find this confidence bubbling to the surface.

(Though also as we have both discovered, sometimes the world seems much darker...but that's for another day.)

It's especially nice to remember this on a send-off day, my least favorite of days, and know that I get to witness these changes in this man of mine for years to come and he in me. There's a comfort in that, a knowing that you are known as you are but that you will also be known as you become and whatever you become--that he will be there for the full arc and not just a blip here and there.

And I know that sounds really corny and totally unrealistic in this day and age, but you know what? I believe it.

p.s. But still please hurry home.
p.s.s. This doesn't mean I want to live in another country. I don't.

And the winner is...

2011-10-04T12:00:00.000-05:00

I heard a story yesterday about a man who was slotted to receive the Nobel prize in medicine. He died two days before he heard about his hard-earned honor. He had prolonged his own life with the cancer-fighting drugs that earned him the prize.

Can you imagine?

For some reason this story strikes a chord in me. I'm not sure that I can articulate it but it has something to do with legacy, with devotion, with recognition.

I think that's a real struggle of mine with growing up. If you'd ask me what I want for my life, there is a definite part of me that wants to be known for something. And when I say known, I don't just mean the deep kind of knowing that I desire from my husband, from my family, from a few close friends who really get me (or at least as much as one can really know of another).

There is absolutely that desire but that's not what I'm talking about here.

I mean to be largely known, recognized, celebrated even (as cheesy and probably pompous as that sounds). I'm not sure if that's normal or not. I like to think that it is.

It's been part of me for a long time now, as evidenced by a diary entry made in my pre-teen days that listed out what I would do with my fortune and fame When I'm Famous. Oh yes I did. (Bonus points for at least wanting to share it with others--buy my cousin a car, treat the family to an awesome vacation? No? Still weird? ha.)

When I was 12 this desire really was to be a celebrity of some sort but today it is not. Sure, there was the time I had to write my own obituary in college (don't ask) and wrote that I died on Oprah as my critically-acclaimed book interview was interrupted with the surprise that in fact it was OPRAH'S FAVORITE THI-INGS! And I died of shock...you've got me there.

But nowadays, celebrity life sounds absolutely dreadful. I'm a Midwestern girl at heart. I have no place in my life for any sort of Hollywood glamour and I would TOTALLY FREAK OUT with the invasion of privacy that we expect from our celebrities.

The (long winded) point is, the desire for this celebrity is not in the fame as we ordinarily think of the word, it is not for the money (although I would definitely enjoy it for awhile, don't get me wrong) and it is not in the day-to-day wine and dine. It is the idea of legacy. Of my life mattering in some larger sense of the word. Of for some reason believing that if I do not leave a lasting impact on the world in some fashion, I failed.

And yet...if you would ask me whose lives are living legacies to me, I would tick off people who worked every day, who raised their families well, who raised me well, who were faithful in the small things. Who had character. Who were honest. Who are not rich. Who are my heroes.

And how often do they get recognized? Get the Nobel Prize for Living Well or Living For Others or Sacrificing Day After Day For A Handful of People in the World?

And how many of those people would do it anyway, who do it anyway, who even if they received their grand, life's work-prize days after death would shrug and still say with certainty I would do it again?

...and would I?

The Unknowable.

2011-10-03T12:00:00.000-05:00

It was a flitting, fleeting thought. A run of the mill momentary, eh, I change my mind. A non-decision really, so inconsequential or so it seemed at the time.

I was running late. I was headed to a party. I had been gone all day and stopped at home just long enough to pick up my car and part ways with my then-boyfriend (now-husband).

I had ice cream in the fridge inside, just up the driveway, a few feet from where my car sat parked under the shade tree by the curb.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I said to him. "I'm just running inside for a minute and then I'll be off."

And then...I just didn't. I don't know why. I didn't hear a voice or feel an inkling or anything. I just didn't go inside.

But I could have.

And I planned to.

But I just didn't.

And who's to say that non-decision, non-incident was anything but an ordinary Saturday September 7:08 p.m.?

But it sure feels like something when your friend's husband's phone rings two hours later as you're eating pie and having a grand ol' time and give a rather puzzled smile as he passes his phone halfway around the room to you and says, "Um, Sara...it's for you. It's Adam. He's been trying to get a hold of you."

"Hi!" you say into the phone and immediately alarms go off between your ears and your brain scrambles to keep up as you recognize the sheer panic in your boyfriend's voice at the other end of the line saying words like "break-in"..."your bedroom"..."police"..."so glad you're okay."

And you ask about your roommate (Yes, she's okay) and you apologize for having your phone in your coat pocket--the coat you took off.

And you start repeating these strange words back to him and have to walk outside into the suddenly scary night where you start to cry and wonder what if...

And you feel so exposed and so violated and you can't help but wonder the un-knowable--was it the area's serial rapist? Was he watching me? Was he already inside? What if what if what if...?

And you wonder about the other girls and you wonder how you'll ever feel safe again and you jump a million times a minute for days, weeks, months on end and you think about that vanilla ice cream, untouched in the freezer.

And you'll never know.

Learning:

2011-10-02T12:00:00.000-05:00

"...Which I guess, bring me to a larger, more serious point: that it's hard to love someone, I've found, when you're preoccupied with holding your entire world firmly in place. Loving someone requires a certain amount of malleability, a willingness to be pulled along, at least occasionally, by another person's will."
-Molly Wizenberg, A Homemade Life

Footloose and Facebook free.

2011-10-01T12:00:00.000-05:00

I did the unthinkable everyone.

It is with a heavy heart and twitchy hands that I report to you that I have made my last status update for a month--a whole month! And one with 31 days nonetheless!--and will be living life sans Facebook for the whole month of October.

I KNOW.

I am taking lots of deep breaths today and repeating positive sentiments (I can do this. I am strong. I have Pinterest. There is always Google Plus...JK ADAM! I know you are reading this with delight at my misery and would totally--rightfully--accuse me of cheating should I pull the Google Plus card. LOVE YOU!)

Why put myself through such torture?

1. I was complaining to my sans-Facebook husband about Facebook's shady new updates/marketing deals. I'm not sure if you've met my husband but he is not someone that takes your words lightly. If you make your case on why something is horrible--especially, in this case, something he already thinks is pretty terrible--then you better be ready to put your money where your mouth is. This is a trait I admire most times but also one that is LIKE TOTALLY RUINING MY LIFE (cue the teen angst eye roll...except I'm not a teenager anymore so now it's just poor manners).
2. He ran a 5K with me and this is our way of making each other better people. Slash making each other miserable in the name of love but hey, isn't that what love is for?
3. I have never, not once, been without Facebook since I activated my account during finals week 2004. It is time.
4. Not sure if you're aware of this but even with the weirdo new layout that is (I mean, WAS) completely confusing to me, Facebook is a time-suck with little benefit. Except for knowing engagements before your husband so PLEASE for the love, will everyone agree to text me if anything big happens in the next 31 days?! I am serious.
5. (insert commentary on awkward social pressures, the pretense of real relationship and the ease of which one can stalk others and be stalked here.)

This is not a judgment on you if you love Facebook because OBVIOUSLY I am right there with you but this is me trying to puff up my pride and say hey, yeah, I can sooooo do this.

Also! To make this a bit more fun for me and just because, ya know, I could use a bit of a jump start around here and need to fill my need for online social interaction somehow (ha), I am also going to publish a blog each day in October. The idea is not themed content, nor is it polished writing, but just more of a "set an egg timer and write til it dings." We'll see how it goes.

Happy fall everyone! May your weekend be full of sunny walks, bonfires, pumpkin AND pecan pie and ice cream with your mom as is mine. OH, and also perhaps a hilarious night at the comedy club...not so much because of the performing acts, but more because your poor husband got picked on more than once from the stage since ya know, they seated us IN THE VERY FRONT AND CENTER TABLE. What are the odds?!

Fact.

2011-09-28T13:58:00.001-05:00

For lunch today, all my plans went out the window.

I had frosted cherry vending machine PopTarts (sorry Mom) and sat entranced in my cubicle as I devoured 59 pages of this book.

Yeah. THAT good.

And I would read 59 more straight through if I could.

READ IT!

Shoutout Tylie for the FABULOUS recommendation!

p.s. I nabbed* it last night at the library and had a near anxiety attack as I searched and searched for the correct call number, totally overwhelmed by the many shelves that surrounded me (it is not my usual library branch). Just when I found the correct section and was really scanning, a girl pops in and starts standing right next to me! Scanning the same shelves! What are the odds?! Panicking, I started scanning faster but was too distracted by her and her quick movements(What if she grabs it? I can't believe this is happening!). She even pulled one off the shelf! LUCKILY it was not this book and I did find it quickly after and grabbed that sucker as fast as I could...just for her to look over and say so sweetly, "Oh! That is my favorite book! You are going to love it!" And in case you are reading this, Frantic Girl From the Stacks, I DO!

p.s.s. Who says nabbed?!

Spent.

2011-09-27T12:00:00.000-05:00

Have a few minutes?

Go here. Accept the challenge.

Certainly gave me something to think about.

Um, Couponers...and Terri's Super Awesome Savory Pot Roast Recipe!

2011-09-26T12:00:00.000-05:00

Please tell me everything I need to know about couponing.

Bonus points if it involves a favorite coupon source that is online.

Triple gold star bonus points if it involves our very favorite grocery story Hyvee.

There has to be a method to this madness...right?

*******

Oh also! Recently I cried out for crock pot help and Terri posted this AMAZING roast recipe in the comments (Thanks Terri!).

It is easy. It is delicious. It is the perfect fall come-home-to-yumminess-and-the-leftovers-taste-just-as-amazing meal.

Sooooo yeah. It's pretty awesome. But not as awesome as Terri. OBVIOUSLY.

Here are her directions:

Recipe: Terri's Super Awesome Savory Pot Roast
-1 can (10.75 oz) Condensed Cream of Mushroom Soup
-1 pouch of Dry Onion Soup and Recipe Mix
-6 medium potatoes cut into 1 inch cubes
-6 medium carrots thickly sliced (about 3 cups)
-1 (3.5-4#) boneless chuck pot roast, trimmed.

Put all ingredients in the slow cooker, mix it up, and cook on low for 8-9 hours.

THAT'S IT!

p.s. I think I'm a Pinning addict.

p.s.s. Kelley totally saved the day. Not only did she write her own post with great suggestions...she gave me this link! THANK YOU Kelley!

We interrupt this blogcast to bring you this service announcement:

2011-09-22T12:00:00.001-05:00

I'm pinning! I'm pinning!

Fill a girl in on how to be the most Pinterest-ing of them all?

(Or just how to do it without embarrassing myself?)

((Or MORE importantly, how to get more self control and stop spending so much time online which is decreasing my social skills, my spelling, my time management, my attention span, etc etc etc?!))

....But you guys!? It's fun.

Oh no you didn't.

2011-09-21T12:00:00.000-05:00

Adam: This whole Netflix thing is all the buzz.

Me: Yeah.

Adam: People are really upset* about it!

Me: Pretty crazy.

Adam: Consumers act so entitled these days, you know?

Me: Mmmhmmm.

Adam: Kind of like when Gap redesigned their logo...

Me: TOTALLY DIFFERENT!

Thinking:

2011-09-20T12:00:00.003-05:00

"We have only one story. All novels, all poetry, are built on the never-ending contest in ourselves of good and evil. And it occurs to me that evil must constantly respawn, while good, while virtue, is immortal. Vice has always a new fresh young face, while virtue is venerable as nothing else in the world is."

-Steinbeck (East of Eden)

Things I need to work on:

2011-09-16T12:00:00.023-05:00

Contentment.

Not eating cookies for dinner. Twice.

Not training for a 5K. Again. (Which, incidentally, is tomorrow. EEK!)

Not putting off hard things.

Being present in the moment.

Not posting stupid blogs.

...I won't tell you what I'm about to eat for dinner (hint: see #2) while pretending #3 is not true (which of course means I am doing #4). ...I think I just did #6 again.

Happy weekending!

p.s. This blew my mind. (via.)

Lately:

2011-09-09T12:00:00.000-05:00

A wooden pew, I'm so sorry for your loss, a bewildering, unexpected reunion of old faces. Again.
A dead car, Hold on, I'm coming, a husband driving many, many miles to rescue his very, very stressed out wife, a mom who says, Here, take my car, a dad who says, Hey, everything alright?
A million, zillion post its flying out of my pores. The eye twitch. A to-do list written and lost within minutes. Being told I can literally see the stress on your face.
A messy kitchen. A messy home. A messy life. A bag of candy corn half eaten on the ride home from the store.
Soaking up the sun. Breathing in the cool air. A walk, a needed phone call, kind words, deep breaths.
Peeking out the window shade, snuggled under the blanket, sipping coffee, watching the sun rise. A new day always dawns.

Recipe: Slow Cooker Curried Chicken That Will Rock Your Face Off

2011-08-30T12:00:00.005-05:00

Subtitle: Unless You Are My Dad Who Refuses To Eat Things Like This

(Love you!)

One of my least favorite things about being engaged was registering for gifts. So much pressure! So many options! Such a weird but kind of awesome social norm!

The Robertson registry was one very thought-through list and the subject of many pre-wedding conversations which usually ended with us up to our eyeballs in imagined kitchen gadgetry that we would never use. (scream of horror!)

ALL THAT TO SAY, we have a slow cooker. It majorly failed us the first time we tried to use it so I have been busy pouting and resting my bruised ego. Plus it was REALLY CRAZY hot this summer (I know. Weird! Oh wait, totally normal...but we MidWesterners like to discuss the weather. A LOT.).

Fast forward to last weekend.

I stumbled across a recipe I had saved and decided to give it a whirl. I so badly want to redeem my first slow cooker experience and SO SO badly want us to become bffs so that I will have delicious things ready for my consumption shortly after walking in the door. I want to be that neighbor who always has good smells wafting out the window, curling down the stairs and snuggling up against those people below us who can grow amazing gardens and secretly judge us for our lack of produce this year. (And last.) ((And for forgetting our recycle bin on the curb. Often.)) I want the slow cooker smell to envelop them and say, "Well, they sure don't make use of their balcony but MY OH MY can they cook DINNER!"

...Is that too much to ask?

Imagine my delight when we threw a few ingredients in the slow cooker and after hours of increasingly tantalizing smells, we both took a forkful and our eyes popped open with, "This is SOOOOO good!"

(Well, that was Adam's reaction. Mine was much more controlled and just smartly appreciative. No emotional nonsense here!)

--What's that? You don't need the play by play and just want the recipe already?

Okay fine. But only if you tell me what I can make next in that thing! No holding out on me!

Recipe: Slow-Cooker Curried Chicken With Ginger
From: Real Simple

Serves 6| Hands-On Time: 15m | Total Time: 8hr 15m

Ingredients

Note to our dietician friend Steph--we used brown rice instead of white. Aren't you proud?!

Note to everyone EXCEPT our dietician friend Steph--we added a teeensy bit more salt and more cumin before serving. And we did not add scallions. And it was still good.

1/3 cup tomato paste
4 cloves garlic, chopped
2 tablespoons curry powder
1 tablesppon grated fresh ginger
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 medium onion, chopped
2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs (about 10)
kosher salt and black pepper
1 1/2 cups long-grain white rice
1/2 cup plain whole-milk Greek yogurt
2 scallions, thinly sliced

Directions

In a 4- to 6-quart slow cooker, whisk together the tomato paste, garlic, curry powder, ginger, cumin, and ¾ cup water. Add the onion and stir to combine. Place the chicken on top and season with 1 teaspoon salt and ¼ teaspoon pepper.
Cover and cook until the chicken is tender, on low for 7 to 8 hours or on high for 3 to 4 hours (this will shorten total cooking time).
Twenty minutes before serving, cook the rice according to the package directions.
Just before serving, add the yogurt and ½ teaspoon salt to the chicken and stir to combine. Serve with the rice and sprinkle with the scallions.

...Okay, now I am serious, what else can I make in this wonder of an appliance?

p.s. Sorry I keep posting so many recipes and so little...anything else. I would like to play the Still Transitioning to Fall card now. Please and thank you.

500 days of:

2011-08-26T12:00:00.002-05:00

Who squeezes the toothpaste IN THE MIDDLE?!!
You are so not a morning person.
Your car is totaled.
New last name.
(sigh) Yeah, let's talk budget.
You never told me that!...no, you didn't!
Thank you!
Date nights.
I'm sorry.
Um, the keys are locked in the car...
Remember our wedding day?
Cereal for dinner!
We'll figure it out.
VACATION!
I'm really glad you're here.
...one more episode before bed?
I'm proud of you.
I don't know what to do.
Worst day EVER!
I miss our friends.
Do I have gray hair?
You better be kidding.
I can't believe she's gone.
I love you.
Mr. and Mrs. Robertson.

Best day ever.

(Okay, fine, 503 days as Adam so patiently calculated. Close enough.)

Well, why didn't you say so.

2011-08-24T12:00:00.003-05:00

At our favorite bustling Mexican restaurant on Taco Tuesday:

Me: (sliding into the booth) So what are you having?

Him: (leaning closer) What?

Me: (louder) What are you eating?

Him: Huh?

Me: (above the many clinking dishes and many screaming children) What are YOU. EATING?!

Him: (puzzled look) Um, chips and salsa...?

Me: WHAT ARE YOU ORDERING TONIGHT FOR DINNER FROM THIS RESTAURANT?

Him: We communicate so well.

Recipe: Fall, Let's Be Friends Blueberry Cobbler

2011-08-19T12:00:00.002-05:00

It's been a week of early alarms, lots of coffee and more than one moment of Fall ruins EVERYTHING! as our daily obligations increased ten million fold overnight and our fun factor dipped as quickly as Wall Street.

Annnnnyway, before you accuse me of killing the Friday mood, let me get right to the point: Sometimes, for me, baking can be a confidence booster and thus an attitude booster and THUS good for everyone. Plus, you get to eat the fruits of your labor, and most of the time it is a good thing.

(Note: all is null and void if the recipe falls apart because then SO DO MY EMOTIONS. I know. I'm a hot mess. It's fine.)

So, where were we? Ah. Yes. I hate fall, I like sweets and I make inappropriate jokes about our stock market.

This brings me to last night when I was just ho-humming along, reading a bit of this, distracting my teacher husband, looking forward to watching the Season 1 finale of this (OMG! INSANE!!!) and generally avoiding everything on my to-do list. Because it was Thursday. Which is pretty much Friday. Which is WEEKEND thus all responsibility is effectively rendered MIA til Monday! Duh.

So what did I decide to do with my time? Why, make blueberry cobbler, of course! I had blueberries that were itching to be used and I figured if anything would make me a teensy bit nicer to Fall, it would be a delicious, warm fruity/cinnamon-y/brown sugared goodness.

And I was right.

And I ate it with ice cream.

And then Fall and I became best friends.

Don't take my (many many) word(s) for it, go try for yourself!

Recipe: Fall, Let's Be Friends Blueberry Cobbler
(which is really just this recipe but mine was more "cobbler" than "crumble bars" if you know what I'm saying. Thus the ice cream. Also, I just really believe ice cream makes everything better.)

You need:
1 1/2 cup rolled oats
3/4 cup flour
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup butter + 2 tablespoons
1 cup blueberries

This is what you do:
Preheat oven to 350.
In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, oats, cinnamon and salt and mix until combined. Melt the 1/2 cup of butter and add it, along with the vanilla, to the oat mixture. Stir until moistened. Fold in the blueberries.
Press batter into 8 x8 pan. Melt remaining butter and drizzle it over the bars. Bake for 20 minutes, the let cool completely – this can take up to 45 minutes! Cut and serve. Can be kept in the fridge or at room temperature in a sealed container.

At such a time as this.

2011-08-16T12:00:00.001-05:00

Tick, tock.

2011-08-11T12:00:00.000-05:00

It's back to school time at the Robertsons and if you hear a faint "Nooooooooooooooooooooo!" howling from your speakers, I apologize. I'm not exactly welcoming the season with open arms. (Exhibit A: the return of my persnickety eye twitch. Drat!)

I used to look forward to the fall because a) I'm a nerd and love school and b) the beginning of a school year always seemed like a good time to start fresh--new shoes, organized supplies, lists upon lists of goals, etc. for the year.

(Note to any snarky comments coming from my little brother: YES, we have already established that I am a nerd so NO NEED TO REMIND ME.)

Ahem.

The trouble is, when my Type A First-Born Child starts showing, I get caught in the all-too-familiar web of a) craving order b) making too many goals and c) wondering if I'm "doing it wrong".

Because I want to do it all! And brilliantly! And, well, there just isn't enough time in the day. So I zig-zag all over the place and end up tired, cranky and curled up in the fetal position with a bowl of Puppy Chow and a spoon, (OH LIKE YOU ARE PERFECT!) wanting to do nothing for no one and swinging my pendulum back the other way.

But then I get bored and a bit panicky and all too comfortable and then even more panicky because I'm comfortable and all the while think opportunity is passing me by.

And I don't really know how to find that right balance.

And I kind of want to run seven steps forward--or maybe two steps to the left?--or maybe just throw up my hands and just go, already.

Really, I'm just saying a really long-winded "Ditto" to this guy.

...and now also craving puppy chow. Shoot.

Come on, y'all

2011-08-05T12:00:00.000-05:00

Okay, fine, I'm no Tami Taylor but can you blame a girl for trying?

Now listen close friends, because this is serious. SERIOUS, I tell you!

About the time summer peeked around the corner and began wooing us with sunny skies and growing tomato plants (such a tease), The Robertsons began watching a little thing called FNL.

I had heard good things. I added it nonchalantly to the Netflix queue thinking it would be a fun thing to watch on a night I was flying solo. BUT THEN Adam watched the pilot with me. And would you believe he agreed to watch another? And another? And suddenly we were so knee-deep into Dillon, TX drama that we were just a few pairs of boots away from Texas Forever!

BUT NOW it is over. Gone! Done! Off the air! No more Landry! No more Lila! NO MORE TAYLORS! (well, I mourn them all but Julie. OBVIOUSLY.)

So, I turn to you dear, sweet friends.

I know you may be thinking, "Sara. You did this last year with LOST. You did this last May when Michael Scott left. Get a grip!"

To which I would reply, "YOU GUYS, all my current faves have not come out with their newest seasons on Instant Watcher (here's looking at you, you and you) and things are getting desperate around here!"

And also, "Since when is it a crime to wear your heart on your sleeve?!"

And for that matter, "I NEED SOMETHING TO DISTRACT ME FROM THE FACT THAT OUR GOVERNMENT IS CONSISTENTLY UNDERWHELMING!"

...See what you made me do?

The point is, I need you. You came through so much for me when on the lookout for new books. Won't you pretty please tell me what you are watching and loving? (Bonus points if it is on Instant Watcher.)

Oh, and don't worry, I am eating old office chocolate cake so I'll be much more positive as soon as my frosting-induced cavities kick in.

Have a great weekend! Or as my mysterious-sometimes-idiotic-yet-strangely-intriguing friend Tim would say, "Cheers."

(He doesn't exclaim things otherwise you know I would add about five !!!!!)

((why yes, I do have a life...why do you ask?))

Renew.

2011-08-03T12:00:00.000-05:00

Well helloooooo long lost friends! It's been awhile.

We are back from vacay and I have been slowly but surely easing my way back into all things real life and after living a week unplugged, it has taken me a bit to catch my breath.

I could tell you a lot of things about my time away, such as our fabulous company, yummy food, books read, perspective gained, naps taken, new goals set.

I could talk about how nice it was to get away, catch a breath, take it easy.

The greatest thing for me, though, was a moment on a mini-hike one quiet afternoon as we meandered our way down a tree-lined trail behind our cabin.

I was thinking about the year, soaking up some sun (and keeping an eye out for BEARS which okay fine I was terrified of seeing even if the odds of doing so were oh-so-slim) and still trying to make sense of all the crazy bumps we've had along our way the last few seasons.

We've seen a lot of people go through a lot of hard things. We've gone through some hard things ourselves. And several times I looked around and felt so very small, so insignificant, so forgotten. And I would try my hardest to look outside of myself and my circumstances, but when you're feeling empty and depleted, and when your world seems to be a bit rattled and your mind is whirling, well, even when you try to look outside your story, everything seems to be a bit tilted, off-color, blurry.

But you keep going. And it gets better. But it still leaves you a bit shaky as you try to put one foot in front of the other.

So there I was on that trail breathing in some crisp mountain air as the sun dazzled on the nearby lake and the trees towered and the mountains loomed in the distance and it seemed impossible to do anything but gaze outside myself. And I had to keep reminding myself to watch where I was going because I was surrounded by so much beauty. And I felt so small, so insignificant, so forgotten.

And oh, how wonderful to get lost in a bigger story again.

Lately:

2011-07-19T12:00:00.000-05:00

Life has seemed a bit slower--refreshingly, mercifully so--which means plenty of time to get swept away by a new (to us) show (thanks Netflix! Except not really because you are raising our rates but whatever!), roadtrip to one of our favorite places, and even make these ridiculously delicious cupcakes (I KNOW. I KNOW!!! Yes, you should do it. No, I won't judge you. No, we did not share. Yes, I know you aren't shocked.)
Of course, in the midst of this, I have been cramming/trying not to stress/stressing/trying to pretend like I am not stressing about this little gem which really is one of my least favorite things ever but GUESS WHAT?! It's over, I'm alive and I got to celebrate last night with my man and OMG did my fun-factor skyrocket in the last 24 hours! I guess that stupid thing was weighing on my mind much more than I realized. But I am reminded how sometimes, choosing the harder road is worth it. And it's good to complete a goal. Which is a good lesson because...did I mention we are now training for a 5K this September? True.
For those that offered book recommendations, thank you! I am currently reading this and this, and waiting for this, this and this to be available from the library (with great anticipation). p.s. USE YOUR LIBRARY!
We have three pots of flowering plants on our patio, no thanks to me--fingers crossed for tomatoes soon! This really does seem like a great accomplishment. (That might be pathetic.) Also, and perhaps even more noteworthy, we have not seen the horrible squirrel for days! Could it be that he is no longer in our lives?!
Counting down the days to VACATION (t-FOUR DAYS) with our bffs and as we relish these (blazingly hot) summer nights, we're taking every advantage of last minute frozen-yogurt runs, spontaneous game nights and all the houseguests, dinners and celebrations we can possibly squeeze in....and as we drive home with the windows down, we agree that yeah, we've got a good thing going.

Did I mention I love summer? Hope it's treating you well, friends.

p.s. Fair warning that posting will be sparse around these parts til August. Got some livin to do.

My bad.

2011-07-06T12:00:00.001-05:00

(on the way to work. Pre-coffee.)

Me: You don't know that song?! What do you mean you don't know that song?! You know it's like, "...you fill my HEART with gladness...take away allll my sadness...ease my troubles..." ...no?! nothing!? Are you kidding me?!

Adam: Uh, no. Never heard of it.

Me: YOU KNOW. 80s ballad. It's by Michael Bolton. Or Phil Collins. One of those guys. I get them mixed up.

Adam: WHAT?! How can you get them MIXED UP?!

Me: They sound the same! Totally understandable!

Adam: They are not even REMOTELY similar. Phil Collins is awesome. Michael Bolton is terrible! He doesn't even play music!

Me: I thought he played the saxaphone.

Adam: That's Kenny G. You're killing me.

p.s. IT WAS ROD STEWART! Bonus (nerd) points if you knew that. Ha!

Attention, bookworms:

2011-07-05T12:00:00.000-05:00

I am in a desperate, desolate reading desert.

I also happen to be weeks away from vacation (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

What should I pick up at the library? Recent faves? Old trusty titles? ANYTHING! PLEASE! (Bonus points if it is a good story that could be played as a crowd-pleasing book on tape during the looooong road trip West.)

Also and completely unrelated, I just received a reminder of a health screening tomorrow...after eating a morning bowl of puppy chow following many, MANY bowls of such sugary goodness yesterday. EEEK!

Cream in my coffee.

2011-06-30T12:00:00.001-05:00

Adam sent me this video and I liked it so much, I wanted to pass it along.

An interesting take on our society's obsession with health, youth and longevity.

And a reminder to make good of what you've got and dig into life right now--because no matter how many years we live to see, how long we put off the wrinkles, or how skinny our jeans, we will all find ourselves one day in the winter of life. And that's just the way it is.

p.s. Have I mentioned that I love Wendell Berry?

p.s.s. I didn't listen to the guy after Wendell. Just couldn't find another version. (No offense, Gary.)

Friends don't let friends...

2011-06-29T12:00:00.000-05:00

Image cred.

Simmer.

2011-06-28T12:00:00.002-05:00

Sometimes it seems like when you hone in on an idea or meditate on a life truth that it begins hitting you every which way you turn. Or maybe it's been there all along and you are finally paying attention.

For me, lately, I've been thinking a lot about aging.

I'm not really sure what sparked such thoughts initially but now I seem inescapably drawn to stories, to speakers, to books, to movies, to people and the later years of life.

Of course, aging itself is inescapable--a thought that none of us really want to entertain, except, perhaps, when silently swooning a bit as a wrinkly old man ambles down the sidewalk, step by slow step, hand intertwined with his stooped-over wife.

But the reality of aging really isn't quite as picturesque and is something we all kind of shy away from.

Anyway, I've been thinking about it and for some reason thinking especially about nursing homes and all the people tucked away there.

And I wonder what their stories are and who they loved and how they lived and what their most treasured memory would be and where they place their hope. And who is fighting for them? And do they feel invisible? And are they afraid?

And I just keep stirring the pot, letting these thoughts bubble and brew, waiting for them to spill over.

Bless this mess.

2011-06-24T12:00:00.003-05:00

If you walked into my home right this very minute, I would apologize all over myself as I quickly ushered you through the messy kitchen into the dusty dining room, past the un-vacuumed rug and firmly shut the door behind us once we made it (mercifully) onto the front porch, and would position my chair just so to hide our wilting plants from view.

If you peeked inside my head today, I would smother you with prefaces that scream insecurity, uncertainty, fear. A timid blip of excitement might pop through and if you just kept swimming, swimming, swimming, past the sea of swirly twirly gum drops*, you'd see a smattering of rusty neurons firing that had fallen quiet for a time and feel a warm glow as wheels kept spinning.

If you lifted the veil to my heart and waited patiently for the should've, could've, guilt waves to subside, you would hear the steady beating of Hope pulse throughout and see my fingers holding on ever so tightly to the belief that greater things are yet to come.

*Two points if you caught both of those. Couldn't help myself.

Don't you fall asleep too soon.

2011-06-21T12:00:00.000-05:00

We cruise into the summer night sky, full of life and lightness and the good sort of tired.

The drive is easy and I stare out the window, notice the twinkling lights and listen as the music croons, ...And don't you fall asleep too soon.

And suddenly I'm sixteen--lanky-legged, frizzy-haired, insecure to boot. Not yet afraid to laugh a little too loud or be a little silly or dream an irrational dream.

Life was wide open and as the stars flashed by my window on the family road trip out West, it seemed oh-so-much bigger.

Yet for the first time, I could feel time's finicky finiteness and I wasn't sure whether to count down or hold on tight.

So I watched and wondered where would I go? And would I find love? And would I be okay?

And if I could whisper back to that wide-eyed girl, who wasn't sure yet who she was or what she wanted or why life seemed a bit harder to pin down lately, I think I would just play that same song, and crank the volume way, way up, and watch her furrowed brow crease while her eyes light up, then smile as she turns to playfully elbow her brother and ask her mom for more fruit snacks.

It's getting all Monica up in here.

2011-06-15T12:00:00.007-05:00

Has anyone else out there taken a personality test recently? Those things really mess with my mind. It just makes me all psycho-analytical (heavy on the "psycho", light on the "analytical").

Like, I don't know! Do I strongly agree that life is good? A 4-good or a 5-good? Am I outgoing or not? Which shapes my life more--the past or future?! Um...?! Do I make my decisions with my heart or my head--HEART OR HEAD?! What are you REALLY ASKING ME, COMPUTER?! And why are these questions on a sneaky TIMER?!

And after all that, my highest-ranking category was Empathy. Kind of wanted to react like this.

*note: I know that it is a word, thankyouverymuch. But it just seems like a made up category. Like when people don't know you and write in your yearbook and say, "You are nice."

Anyway, I'm taking two days off so see ya next week! Got some serious relaxing to do.

OH! And in case you think I'm being especially harsh, don't worry. #4 on my list was Positivity. So...there's that.

Story of my life.

2011-06-09T12:00:00.003-05:00

We're driving around town and I'm relaying my office life conundrum of the day, which included the do I?/don't I? of extending the private lunch invitation to anyone who happens to be listening, even though technically it is my lunch break and should be able to go to lunch with one co-worker...right?! Plus, I was pretty sure that said lunch date would not appreciate the extended invite, but still, there's this guilt that inevitably follows when you don't, because what if everyone thinks you're being a jerk or something...you know what I mean?!

((long pause))

Husband's response: "I feel like you experience the most subtle awkwardness."

Wispy.

2011-06-08T12:00:00.008-05:00

Because now, it's been awhile, so you think, "Oh, sure, it was hard at first, but now time has passed and it's the circle of life, so yeah, I mean it's tough, but life keeps moving and besides, she's in a better place."

And you do keep going. And it's not so bad, most of the time, because the punch-in-the-gut feeling has faded and your initial shock is somehow integrated into your sense of daily living and you'll think about her time to time and smile as you walk by her photo each morning.

But it's tricky, your emotions, because you think you have them all figured out and under control and you can even start to believe that if you've rationalized it all to death then your emotions will surely be on board and in sync and fine, just fine.

But then, you let your guard down. And not even in a conscious, calculated way, more in a walking-into-Target-to-buy-a-fan-because-it's-hot-as-blazes-at-home kind of way. And it's Tuesday. So really there should be nothing more to worry about on a Tuesday except folding all your weekend laundry (finally) and whether or not you will allow yourself to indulge in ice cream (again).

And you're on your way out of the supermarket when just like that you smell popcorn, and you spot a sweet pepper-haired old woman and in the moment you know you're experiencing loss all over again, and immediately you squeeze your husband's hand and smile a little remembering smile.

And you think because you recognize it, call it out, then you will proceed to thoughts a-b-c and threat neutralized.

And then you're all surprised when you're in bed hours later, after a chat with a friend and a few episodes of The Office and living your Tuesday life, that when you close your eyes, you smell popcorn again and tears pop out and they just keep coming.

And you just can't stop thinking about how much you'd love to call her up right now and catch her up to speed and how she liked to clean out drawers when she couldn't sleep in the middle of the night and her chuckle when she was saying something a little bit ornery and how you don't think you'll ever take her number out of your phone.

And you grasp at the fragments as they float away into the summery shadows.

Lately loving:

2011-06-06T12:00:00.016-05:00

impromptu lunch dates...with my husband!
fresh strawberries in my (made-with-8-ingredients!) ice cream
QT drinks (DDP, two bursts of vanilla, easy on the ice)
lists that don't seem as urgent
shedding my cardigan as I walk out the door

Summer is the best.

p.s. Totally unrelated but I just have to add that anytime someone says, "It is hotttttt!"...I think of this. You are welcome.

Awake.

2011-06-02T12:00:00.002-05:00

My sense of:

Urgency
Freedom
Risk
Excitement
Anxiety
Not being x, y or z
Being alive

Confidence?

2011-05-31T12:00:00.001-05:00

"I was thinking, I mean, I am interested in...I would really like to..." I stammered and flushed a deep red and my rushing words came to a screeching halt as sirens went off between my ears.

Everyone waited, expectantly.

"Well, it's just that..."

(Deep breath. Anxiety. Discomfort. Could I? Should I? Deep breath.)

"...but I'm not really sure I'm qualified," I said in a hurry, breathless, desperate to let it tumble out before I bit my tongue.

And after all was said and done, despite my inarticulate mumbling, furiously blushing cheeks, prefaced prefaces and many, many pauses...would you believe that nobody laughed?(!)

Not a single person. In fact, they were smiling and nodding and the one response was a simple, much-needed, direct, authoritative, "Sara. If you're here, you are qualified."

Urgent!

2011-05-27T12:00:00.004-05:00

I desperately need to know! Is there any sort of summer vacation plan reserved for spouses of teachers?!

PLEASE?!

Today is Adam's last day of school!* What a crazy year. I feel like rolling down my windows and tossing all my graded tests out the window while bathing in glorious freedom that is all mine for three months.

Except, I don't have any graded tests, I still have to work and I couldn't even bring myself to actually throw stuff out the window when I was actually in high school.

Waaah, waaah.

...At least it's a three-day weekend?

Congrats to all the teachers out there for working hard every day.

(And also, a gentle reminder for said teachers to be really nice to your spouse who still has to get up every morning because rubbing it in that you get vacation and they don't is SO NOT FUNNY.)

*I literally rolled out of bed this morning and said, voice still froggy, "Happy LDOS, Adam!" And HE KNEW what I meant!!! Never underestimate the power of abbrevs.

Yeah, kinda like that.

2011-05-26T15:04:00.000-05:00

Image cred

Legacy.

2011-05-24T12:00:00.003-05:00

My brother recently read that book I love and it got me thinking again about its premise--live a better story.

I know, I know, it sounds so touchy-feely but is it really so impractical?

***

Adam and I have been attending a class Sunday mornings about a Christian suburban couple who started wondering why the Bible mentions loving the poor so much and if, in fact, they should too. Ten years later, they manage missionaries in India while organizing and supporting local missions in their Kansas City neighborhood.

Yet he still says with all sincerity, "I'm not a brave person. I'm just a regular guy."

***

Recently I've been blown away by this documentary (available for free in its entirety!) and found myself wondering, how did I not know more about them before? And even more, could I have done it?

***

Today I came from a work meeting where we gathered around a table and went around listing first our own professional strengths and then one at a time, we listed each others' strengths as we saw them. I know, again, touchy feely, but after that we were told to reexamine what we do each day so that we are building on our strengths instead of constantly trying to improve our weaknesses.

"This is really cool," my almost-retired colleague said. "I've never once felt like I've had a job where I'm doing something that I'm really good at and as I look back, I think, I really didn't ever get to show my worth."

***

Today I'm just a twenty-something newlywed who has a one-bedroom apartment, two growing (!) pots of flowers, a mounting to-do list and nothing to eat for lunch.

But there will be a day when I look back on this season and those that follow and I wonder what will I see?

Lately:

2011-05-19T12:00:00.002-05:00

Loving this book.

Eating this. Straight out of the pan. Twice. GO MAKE IT! (Then invite people over or risk eating it for every meal. I am serious. Unless you have much more self-control than me. Then I am jealous.)

Thinking about that $5 cardigan I didn't buy at Target, even though I really felt awesome at finding such a good deal. It wasn't my color and I probably would only wear it a few times but somehow I had a hard time putting it back on the rack. I know it makes me sound shallow. But if you really stop and think about where you spend your money, I bet you'll find some really strange habits perhaps including a bizarre desire to purchase a brown/green cardigan just because it is so on sale and just my size!

Remembering that moment when we were packing up to return home from the Dominican Republic. We were told that if we had any clothes to donate, to pile them under the coffee table in the living room. And even though I had purchased clothes specifically to wear on the trip and leave behind, there was this unexpected tension I felt when actually adding things to that pile. I honestly found myself feeling a bit of panic at the thought. The skirts were fairly easy to part with since they were long and not in style. But when it came time to donate a few shirts it was this weird tug in my mind, this pestering thought of ...but what if I need that someday?! Crazy, I know. And this is coming from someone who's been actively sorting through her closet and donating full bags to the thrift store! I guess all I'm saying is you can tell yourself that you are above these people or so totally socially conscious and roll your eyes at materialism...but you know what? It probably has a much deeper hold on your heart than you'll ever realize. It does for me anyway. Here's my challenge to you: go fill three bags of stuff to donate. Can you do it?
Desperately hoping something grows in those three filled pots sitting on our front porch. My pride is on the line here. Fingers crossed! (Also, sending death glares to the stupid squirrel that is back to his devious self and had the audacity to get caught red-handed pawing his way through my so carefully planted seeds. RUDE.)

Big sister.

2011-05-18T12:00:00.001-05:00

My (not-so) little brother asked me a few questions. Here's a snippet.

p.s. He titled his post "Living in ALL CAPS." Although I have NO IDEA WHY. Ahem. Also, Mom and Dad, if you're reading, please note that BRIAN CALLS ME OOOOOLD! Please remember this at Christmas.

p.s.s. How would you answer the last one?

* * * * *

By all means, please introduce yourself.

Oh hey there. I'm the Big Sister. I like coffee, reading, writing, making lists, and annoying my little brother. Just kidding. (Kind of.)

What's your favorite thing about being married?

Living with my bff. Preshy presh, I know. haha. But seriously, there's something so fun about being with someone who knows every aspect of your life. Like one minute, I may want to tell someone about that weird person at work today and the next, need a hand to squeeze when I get really bad news. And for me, the person that I go to first with both of those things is Adam. Also, he's really freaking funny so that keeps things entertaining. Oh! And as newlyweds (are we still considered newlyweds when we just started year #2?), it has been (mostly) fun to discover each other's idiosyncrasies (of which, Adam has more than me, OBVIOUSLY).

Favorite quote/story/etc... from mom and dad.

Mom: All the times we'd try really hard to get her to really lose it laughing. It was a group effort and well worth it because it is hilarious. Also of all the funny phrases she uses: "Oh my stars!" " Oh, you dog!" and "My dogs are barkin" are the first to come to mind but there are quite a few. haha.
Dad: Riding around in his truck belting out "Wild Thing!" And against my better judgment, I have to say that his prank that Christmas when he conspired with the mall Santa Clause to fool his innocent, doe-eyed daughter into thinking that maybe Santa was real after all was pretty good. (I mean, if it were true, but since the video is lost in translation, we just can't be sure. haha)
Brian: The image of you riding your bike against the wind. Okay that is only funny to me. And actually mean. But I had to throw it in there. As Adam would say, my "big sister is showing." haha.

Quick. Chocolate or conversation? (And I'm talkin REAL GOOD CHOCOLATE.)

Not enough information! Conversation with who? And did I have chocolate for breakfast or have I not yet had my dose of sugar for the day? ...Umm...I'm going to say conversation (but secretly think WHAT KIND OF CHOCOLATE?!).

For all of us 20-somethings, what's your advice on growing-up?

First and foremost, EXCUSE ME. I am STILL a twenty-something thankyouverymuch. (Rude.) It's weird because I feel like I am in no place to be offering advice since I feel far from having things "figured out".
I've been learning lately that I'll always be learning. Maybe that sounds like a cop out but honestly, I think that it's a big deal to be able to shift your thinking from "okay life is about ticking A, B, C, and D off my list and in that order, so let's get started" to "okay life is ever-changing, sometimes crappy, full of questions and a work in progress." That's too simplistic, of course, and I don't actually live like I believe it every day, but it is part of growing up, or it is for me. I think it's important to identify what will be your anchor, your hope, your motivation early on because there will be times when that's all that will keep you going.
I think, too, that it is easy to believe that life is all me, me, me--what do I want out of this, how is this for me, what about my wants/needs/goals/priorities/etc. but that really shouldn't be the case. There are lots of people in this world and you're going to miss out on a lot (and in my opinion, the best things) when you put those blinders on. Sure, we all have individual needs and passions and especially as 20-somethings, the stakes are lower so we can take risks, we can explore our interests and put ourselves out there without putting as much on the line (most don't have families to support, mortgages, etc.).
I guess what I'm trying to say--brevity is not my strong point--is that those are fine things to explore and I am totally not trying to squelch any desire to be creative, or work hard for a goal or really examine what is important for you as an individual. But do it all in community and keep the community in mind. Surround yourself with those who are older and wiser...and listen to them. Invest in those that are younger. Befriend those who will be honest with you and want the best for you. And remember that you have something to offer the world--and your gift is not given for you to merely keep to yourself.
(((Bumper stickers coming soon--haha.)))

That Old Time Religion.

2011-05-16T12:00:00.001-05:00

It was a frenzied Friday and I rushed straight from work to a quick dinner and before I knew it, I was sitting on a hard wooden pew in a small church to see a man dear to Adam's (and my) heart.

I tapped my foot, wondering how long we would be and when I would get a chance to clean before everyone came over tomorrow morning and if I'd be able to squeeze in a dash to the grocery store on the way home.

I fidgeted. I tried to focus. I surveyed the room full of graying hair.

And then a lanky man stood up with his guitar and started singing.

"We'll do some classics," he said with a grin, "so you just jump in when you can."

There was no projector, no hymnal number, no paper passed out with the words written down.

Just a group of eager people and a man with a guitar.

In seconds, a chorus filled the room. And we sang and sang and sang songs from much before our time.

I joined in when I could, hummed when I couldn't, smiled at the sound of a people coming together.

I'm not really sure why it struck me so much, why it seemed so poignant, why it still echoes occasionally in my head.

There is just something to be said, I suppose, in these days of confusion, of hard times, of wearing hope, of fraying faith of an unwavering belief that knows no bounds. A cry that wells out and up and intermingles with others' and a moment in which you know that this is all you really have and all that you can ever expect to know to be true.

It was an experience of nostalgia, maybe, for what was and for what will come, even, and a reminder that this big old world and its flashiness, its injustice, its sorrow and its bewildering disregard is not the end of the Story.

And though it hurts sometimes--it breaks, it cracks, it rips our hearts right open to dare to even believe it--there is some Truth in this world and even amidst our darkest hour, there is nothing new under the sun.

And I think that even now, part of me is still humming right along, searching for a way to say with certainty that yes, oh it is good enough for me.

Image cred.

Distracted.

2011-05-12T11:07:00.000-05:00

By the thought of that chocolate pie I have waiting for me (uh, I mean us) at home.

The one I made because dinner was a flop*, I couldn't plant flowers after all, and well, my pride needed a little boost. (Seriously, can we talk about how it feels like a personal attack from The World and All That Is In It when you have cupcakes burning in your oven?! So rude.)

...Annnd, I'm sorry, did I just say something about cooking AND gardening in the same sentence?!

I am growing up so fast.

Oooh! Also! There's this!

(It's the little things.)

*Note: I was the one who deemed dinner a flop. Adam was too nice to say so. What a keeper. ...except, he did make me chill the pie like the recipe instructed which was sooooooooooooo unnecessary because it meant waiting a whole day before digging in. (Okay fine. It was absolutely necessary. But also torture.) Am I still talking about a pie?! Yeesh.

Reminder:

2011-05-10T12:00:00.000-05:00

Of what's important and what isn't.

In the form of the cutest couple ever.

Danny and Annie, thanks for putting this crazy world in perspective.

(Hint: you may need a Kleenex. Or twenty.)

p.s. StoryCorps is the coolest. Seriously.

Recipe: Jimbo's (OMG!) Coconut Cream Pie

2011-05-05T12:00:00.008-05:00

My dad is not the kind of guy that speaks in all caps but if there's one thing that will tip him towards an OMG! (hilarious image, for those of you that know him)...it's coconut cream pie.

He loves it. Or, in Sara speak, he lu-huuuuuv-es it.

But in dad-speak, it would be more like, "Yeah, that's pretty tasty."

So, in celebration of his recent birthday and his upcoming wedding anniversary, I give you Jimbo's (OMG!) Coconut Cream Pie.

Just my little way of saying thanks for continuing to take care of your little girl and even more, for teaching me a thing or two about hard work, honest words and how to keep a commitment--especially the one that begins with I do.

Love you!

Recipe: Jimbo's (OMG!) Coconut Cream Pie
Thanks to Mary for posting this recipe on Allrecipes.com! All I added was a few sassy comments...and whipped cream!

Ingredients:

1 cup white sugar
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 cups milk
4 eggs
3 tablespoons butter
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup flaked coconut
1 (9 inch) pie shell, baked
whipped cream (optional, but let's be honest, not really)

Directions:

In a medium saucepan, combine sugar, flour and salt over a medium heat; gradually stir in milk. Cook and stir over medium heat until the mixture is thick and bubbly. Reduce heat to low and cook 2 minutes more. Remove the pan from heat. Note: Don't get nervous and turn up the heat if it doesn't get thick for awhile. This will result in a scorched mess and maybe some tears. Just. keep. stirring.
Separate the egg yolks from whites. Note: I read in Real Simple that an easy way to separate the slippery little yolks from the whites is to use the egg shell (the jagged edge from where you broke the egg). It totally works! ...just make sure you don't get any unwanted shell in the mix. Because...ew. Beat the egg yolks slightly. Gradually stir 1 cup of the hot mixture into yolks. Return the egg mixture to the saucepan and bring the entire mixture to a gentle boil. Cook and stir 2 minutes before removing the pan from heat.
Stir butter, vanilla, and coconut into the hot mixture. Pour the hot filling into the baked pie crust. Cool. Cover and chill to store the pie if not serving immediately. Top with whipped cream unless someone strongly objects. Okay fine, if desired.
Tell your dad he's awesome.

Thinking:

2011-05-04T12:00:00.005-05:00

Somehow, ideas really seem to take root just by saying them out loud.
I don't think I'll ever be too old to think Hmm, I don't know...I think I'll call Mom...
Murderous thoughts about the incessantly squawking birds outside our bedroom window. Every morning. Starting at 5:30 a.m. Please feel sorry for me. (Don't worry, I won't act on it.)
I am so much nicer when the sun is shining. (Despite the above comment. Totally doesn't count. ...uhh, okay maybe sun shining and birds aren't squawking...?)
What a crazy world we live in. Really makes you examine what you hold to be true when everything seems to be spinning so fast, you know?
...how early is too early for Rice Krispies? Never? I'm so glad we understand each other.

Psssst! Your librarianism is showing.

2011-04-29T12:00:00.004-05:00

You may have noticed I added an extra little guy to the sidebar.

See?------------------>

It's a little somethin' somethin' called a Creative Commons license and if you are blogging or publishing any creative content in any way on a public platform, I think you should do it too!

In an age where stealing others' ideas and/or creative content is oh-so-easy, it's important (and painless! and FREE!!!) to take steps that let everybody know a couple ground rules. Namely, that sharing is awesome but stealing is not.

A working definition for me personally means that you are welcome to share anything posted here, but please give me credit. And maybe a heads up. (The heads up is optional.)

To be fair, I intend to return the favor and give credit to others' content that appears here. If you have additional information, like Rachel did yesterday, I will be so very happy to edit as needed! :)

Anyway, that's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

Interested? Visit here for more details. Step-by-step Blogger instructions here.

Your PSA for the day has been brought to you by the freaking weekend. Enjoy it, friends!

If this isn't one of your favorite things, we probably can't be friends.

2011-04-28T12:00:00.002-05:00

Photo cred. Image cred.

Um, also this.

For the love, people:

2011-04-26T12:00:00.000-05:00

We are family.

2011-04-25T12:00:00.001-05:00

Lots of thoughts running through my head today, some sugary sweet, some downright snarky, to be honest.

There are lots of really mean things I would like to say to some people I have never met, and some topics that lately, if they arise in conversation, I do that smile and nod thing and sometimes even bite the inside of my cheek from exploding.

But more than that, what I really want you to know, what has superseded any and all frustration I have flowing through my jittery body this morning (latte + candy for breakfast = who's shocked?!) is this:

I am so very blessed.

I mean this in a lot of ways and this thought has been hibernating ever since we returned to the States but especially lately, it has become so very apparent to me that I am surrounded by many gifts that I have known existed for quite some time but have a new found appreciation for as of late.

And the biggest one is this: I have the best family in the world. I mean that. I don't say it to make you jealous and I don't doubt that we are all especially crafted for each other and if you feel the same about yours I will support you but silently think mine is better. Just kidding. (Kind of.)

This growing up thing changes things a bit, tweaks my lens enough to see with new clarity or to notice fragments that before have been blurry. And in a simple moment of doing laundry at Mom and Dad's this weekend, I was feeling this new twinge of...well, I guess I'll call it pride.

I'm proud of who I came from. I'm proud of the people I get to spend my life with and the ones I lean on when times get hard. I'm proud of them for making me who I am and I'm proud of who they continue to be. I'm proud of the ones that continue to teach me, to challenge me, to just show me how to make sense of the world that sometimes seems so hard, so unfair, so scary, even, and with little glances at them and blips of conversation, I wonder if they realize how much they shape me and how I hope that one day I can be more like them.

And it's funny because though we show our love in our family by doing things--Dad taking off work to fix my car, Mom never sitting down when we're over because she's always serving someone, Brian moving my fifty million boxes every freaking time I had to move without complaining--we aren't always the best at saying it.

And I guess today I just wanted to tell everyone, and them at the same time, hey, you guys, I love you.

And thank you.

(And next Easter please don't let me eat so much.)

Surrounded.

2011-04-21T12:00:00.000-05:00

By pinned up photos of familiar, favorite smiles
A few quotes to keep me inspired
Bright colors
Post It notes
Dirty coffee mugs
Scattered intentions
Distractions
Dreams that won't quit
Wishful thinking
Numbered days that keep ticking by.

WANTED: Image cred. I don't have it. If you do, please let me know!

On blogging.

2011-04-19T12:00:00.001-05:00

Recently, a friend gave me the opportunity to reflect on life as a blogger. I use this term loosely, of course, as I still consider this a little side hobby that is mainly for my own amusement and a bit of a creative outlet.

However, I surprised myself by actually having quite a bit to say on the topic and well, we live in a postmodern world so I suppose it's appropriate to be self-referential, am I right?

On a more serious note, thank you for those who read, those who comment, those who pursue their own creative outlet day after day. It is a huge blessing to me to interact with all of you and I am honored by your words. Also, if you have any feedback for me regarding how things are run around here, please share! I am all ears.

Enjoy!

* * * * *

(Note: This has been edited for both an attempt at brevity and because, well, I was talking to a friend and now I am blogging and while this may surprise you, yes, there are things I will not share here.)

1. Do you write posts ahead of time, like in a chunk but then slowly post later?

Sometimes. Generally I will just write it, quickly edit and post it all right there...If I am writing more of a story and/or if I am just having trouble expressing myself but really want to write about a certain topic, I will write a bit, save as a draft and come back another day to finish...The only time I've done an extended "planned posting" marathon was recently when I was in the DR.

2. Do you have any kind of plan as to what topics you will post when?

Not really...generally I write as I feel inspired which is generally why I have such a large flux between serious/silly. Sometimes I want to be more disciplined and have a plan but I keep holding off on that because I think at this point I would rather it be genuine than forced. HOWEVER I do also see writing as a craft and one I sometimes do need to push myself to develop (even with writing silly posts) so sometimes I tell myself "Okay I am going to blog today" and then come up with something.

3. How do you decide what to post and what not to post?

...At the beginning I was a lot more concerned with topics and so I would just basically trial and error different topics [to see what works]. Sometimes now I can start a post and think "Ehh, seemed like a good idea but not workin for me" and then decide to save for later or abandon altogether. I don't really have a focus for my blog which I sometimes dislike...but I'm not sure what my "niche" would be or if I want a "niche" to define my content so I just keep doin my thang* and hope it'll work out.

4. How do you get new readers that are not your personal friends? Do you try to actively do this?

I don't actively try but I am getting more and more interested in this. Lately, I have been taking the plunge and commenting on other blogs I follow (but who aren't my friends). I think this has brought a few more followers--and also more spammers, unfortunately. I generally comment on friends' blogs. ...I would actually love to write for a bigger platform and "guest post" somewhere. Just need the guts and opportunity.:)

5. Do you get disappointed if your blog isn't being read by as many people as you'd like? Yes. Sometimes it's hard for me to not get caught up in that...but I feel like it's a weird desire and don't want to be consumed with that thought and become fake. Sometimes I read blogs and can totally tell they just want more readers which is annoying. And then I think, if I don't have something fresh to offer, then I can't expect more readers. And if I am just trying really hard to be "fresh" or "funny" or "relatable" then I am not being genuine...Honestly, it is a HUGE HUGE honor when I find out people read my blog, especially people who know me and tell me in person. It makes my day. And I know that the number of actual "followers" is deceiving but it is hard not to focus on that stupid little number.

6. Do you have goals or general plans about how often you'd like to post? How did you decide this and, if you don't write for a while/meet goal, how do you let that not bother you?

Ummm yes and no. Again, keep toying with making a rigid schedule but generally just wanting to post a few times a week. I tried doing daily and it seemed a bit too forced for me but I may try to move in that direction again just for practice. For me this was all just trial and error. I want to interact with people through my posts and I feel if I don't post a few times a week, it fizzles. But I think it's different for everyone.

7. Who is your audience?

I ask myself that all the time...Usually, and the overall intent for me personally (for better or worse), is to think of it as an online journal. I'll get into why it isn't EXACTLY a journal in my #9 answer...but that really is how I approach it. Like okay, what am I thinking and feeling today, right now, that I would want to share with my friends. So yeah I guess it's like a journal that I know other people are reading...which makes it a bit more "storytime" and a bit less raw/vulnerable...but sometimes it tends to go that direction too...As a PR person I struggle with not having a neat, clean line of "this is who I am targeting" because hello, first rule of marketing: KNOW THY AUDIENCE. I guess instead I am more like "Know me and pull up a chair if you'd like" and see what comes next.

8. How do you get started, with that first post?

I just went for it and as you can see, it is really just a timid toe dipping in the blogging waters. Like literally just saying "um, hi, so here I am" and then just going from there. The first is the hardest but really the only pressure is from yourself.

9. How do you decide how much to share or not to share about yourself personally through this forum?

This is a hard one. It's really difficult when you don't know who is reading (which of course is the nature of the beast). Like, okay...is it worth the cost of sharing [personal] information when [people I love] could potentially read that and be hurt by it or read it the wrong way? Not for me. ...But it is a personal blog so it is...well...personal. And words are tricky--sometimes in the moment I am feeling really heavy so I write about it and then feel weird later thinking "oh crap are people going to misinterpret that?" or "how do i know when too much is too much?" but also...not wanting to just be bubbly when sometimes things ARE hard and sometimes my most honest posts are the ones that seem to resonate most. However, that is judging from the comments on each post which is a slippery slope that is similar to judging from "followers"...not really accurate. So that can be hard to remember.

10. What are the best/worst parts of blogging?

I love to write and it really is a feeling of accomplishment to get what I'm feeling out and down into words. It really is the best way for me to create. It's cool to have people say "oh yeah I read that on your blog!" and be like "really?! you read that?!" and so that's really fun. It's really hard to not get wrapped up into blog envy and turn it into this competition or something. ...Also, sometimes I think it's just plain narcissistic so that adds another element of "do I even think it's good for people to CARE what I think? shouldn't they just ask me IN PERSON?" etc.

11. What mindsets, things, etc. have changed/evolved from when you first started blogging?

I think in the beginning I linked to information a lot without responding to it and sometimes I still do that but then I started thinking, if I am just noise that is constantly linking to someone else, then I don't really have something to say and don't need a blog. I love writing about my experiencing. I love breaking the weirdo American idea of perfection and trying to maybe challenge people but more just bring people aside with me and live life with people. Also, lately, I have had some really passionate opinions about things and started to post them but then thought you know what? I definitely don't want to be another snarky voice so I had to take a step back and say "why am I sharing this?" and "is this just spewing words out or is it meaningful?" I think those are important questions. [and questions many people forget to ask for some reason when communicating online]

12. Your best advice?

DO IT! And figure it out as you go. And then tell me because you'll be the expert. :)

*I'm not sure why I said "thang". But it seems dishonest to edit for being a dork.

Love language.

2011-04-14T12:00:00.000-05:00

I think these were made with me in mind.

Current household fave: this guy.

Also delicious: this.

Fave flavor in general: mint chocolate chip

Limited edition fave award: this...yes, it's available "Light" but don't even waste your time on that one because yes, less calories but FRIEND, way less cookie, and we all know that is the best part.

Fave EVER: Mom's homemade vanilla. Nothing tops it. (Mom if you're reading, hint hint)

I really shouldn't type on an empty stomach.

Via here; image cred here.

Invasion.

2011-04-13T12:00:00.006-05:00

It happens without any warning.

You're just minding your own business one day, strolling through life you might say, perhaps even having the audacity to think you're actually caught up on things, tra-la-laing as you pour yourself some peach tea when BAM!

You spot one.

No, FIVE.

No, TEN.

No, SEVEN HUNDRED MILLION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Little squirming things meandering across YOUR COUNTERS like they own the place. You trace them to the doorway, squinting in disbelief, trying to withhold the scream that is moving up your throat.

They are inside, they are outside, they are on you YOU CAN JUST FEEL IT!

You shudder. You square your jaw. You run inside, grab a paper towel and SQUISH SQUISH SQUISH DIE DIE DIE GET OUT OF MY WORLD YOU UNINVITED HOUSE GUESTS! And for the love, STAY AWAY from the (mercifully unopened) EASTER CANDY!!!

You finish your feat of bravery, of domination, of INCREDIBLE ABSOLUTE DISGUST AT THESE ANTS IN YOUR KITCHEN by sending not one, but three, texts to your husband in a matter of mere minutes:

Text #1 (The Panic): Ants in the kitchen!!! A lot!!! Can you bring something home to kill them?!

Text #2 (The Brave Front): Okay. Not as bad as I thought. Still gross. But I killed most of them.

Text #3 (The Let's-Be-Honest-I-Am-Still-Wading-In-Serious-Panic): Okay, nope, they are still coming. Will you bring home some killer after all?...I am not being dramatic!

Scene ends with the triumphant entrance of said husband with said ant killer who makes you swoon with the set of a trap and the very generous spray of a chemical that makes you feel like that crazy man from the Home Alone movies laughing maniacally with a gravelly, "Keep the change, ya filthy animal(s)."

Photoboothed.

2011-04-11T12:00:00.000-05:00

Adam's idea. Obviously.

One Year: Celebrate!

2011-04-08T12:00:00.000-05:00

Off to escape with my bff-turned-husband for the weekend!

It'd be fun to write about the things we've learned and maybe I will soon, but for now all I can think about is OMG it's been a YEAR?!

And is this how fast life is going to fly by?!

And sure, it's not all rainbows and fairy tales, but it's still really freaking awesome.

A weekend full of remembering, dreaming and a whole lotta celebrating lies ahead.

Enjoy your days ahead, friends!

Ad and Sara's Wedding from Dean Behrens on Vimeo.

I want to go to there.

2011-04-07T12:00:00.000-05:00

Isn't it amazing that this even exists?!

Image cred (via).

SweeTart.

2011-04-06T12:00:00.003-05:00

I had one of those moments the other night. You know, when you feel completely crazy but try really hard to NOT feel totally crazy, but trying to avoid it makes you feel crazy-er, and thus you feel forced (and a bit justified) to totally lose it.

It really came out of nowhere. One minute, I'm standing there scrubbing yet another dirty dish (note to self: next place of residence must.have.dishwasher!!!) zoning out about who knows what--probably replaying my day or thinking about what kind of pie I should make for family dinner or how I'm pretty sure that magazine I picked up from a coworker was marketed towards retired women, etc--when BAM!

I'm in the middle of a panic attack convinced, convinced! that something terrible, awful, dreadful has happened to my husband. Because why is he not home? And he hasn't called! And OH MY GOSH I am going to get that phone call and don't even ask me what that phone call entails because I can't handle even thinking about it.

And I try to rationalize with myself: You didn't call him either! It's not even that late! You're being a TOTAL CRAZY PERSON and don't even THINK about picking up a phone!

...at least not for 10 more minutes.

...okay five.

So I force myself to keep washing dishes, trying now to forcibly distract myself. I wonder if Tina Fey's new book is any good. (where is he where is he where is he) I can't wait for a weekend getaway! (something's wrong something's wrong you're crazy something's wrong). What will I get Dad for his birthday? (PANIC)

I dry my shaking hands and pick up my phone. I put it down. I pick it up.

I call.

Voicemail.

I text.

Nothing.

I put it down and walk away. Don't be that person. Why are you jumping to horrible conclusions? ...Why is my stomach in such a knot? Is that a sign?...Don't be stupid.

Back in the kitchen I hear what sounds like keys jingling. My heart leaps. It's the neighbor.

I recall being seven and staying up all night (okay, until 10 p.m.) waiting for Mom's reassuring headlights which meant she was home from her volleyball game and that yes, indeed, I would see her again.

So, see? See? Everything is fine.

I pause in the doorway, and without thinking pick up the unopened bag of candy on our shelf.

I wonder if those SweeTarts are any good...

I can't beLIEVE I am thinking about CANDY at a time like this!...like what if something is wrong and here I am eating sour gummy bunnies like an idiot!

I mean I would hope if I got horrible news I would be doing something more...I don't know...dignified! Or something! Like...well...I mean...well, I guess there just isn't a good time. Ever. And sometimes life just hits with no warning.

I call again.

He answers.

(Whew.)

Everything's fine.

(Wheeeeeeeeeeeew.)

I respond nonchalantly and quickly hang up.

Feeling the whoosh of relief, the tinge of embarrassment and the unmistakable reminder that I am so, so small, in the scheme of things.

Pruned?

2011-04-05T12:00:00.006-05:00

Feeling this today, due to a dear friend's listening ear.

(Also wearing a RIDICULOUS coffee stain on my pants since um, approximately 9:14 a.m. that was only made worse by not one but TWO attempts at the Tide to Go stick. Drat. Note to self: THIS IS WHY YOU CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS! )

Image cred.

Some things:

2011-04-04T12:00:00.007-05:00

Totally not reader-friendly, nor succinct, nor necessarily all that well-thought-out:

I can't stop watching My So-Called Life. It was a bit before my time but watching the teen angst seep into each storyline sometimes makes me double over with laughter and other times brings me back a few years to the braces-wearing, pre-hair-gel-finding girl who nervously stepped on that bus for the first time. So funny to remember what mattered then (which skirt your wore with your cheerleading outfit; who asked who to prom; etc.), what drove me crazy (the term "family time"; the unending desire to be accepted; etc.) and what I dreamed about (first dates; a prestigious college; being known and not boxed into a stereotype that I created and also hated; etc.).
Still processing our trip to the Dominican Republic. I'll post some photos soon, hopefully. (Technical difficulties, including, unfortunately, a stolen camera...waah, waaah...has proved this difficult.) This has been the hardest trip to "recover" from both physically and emotionally and while mercifully I think we are finding words that speak truth into this harsh reality and begin to find, to seek, that balance again (and hope along with it)...it is still a work in progress. As it probably should be. As a good friend said, experiences such as these make you want to kick into high gear and do anything and everything because you were blind but now you see ...but also, reality is sometimes just too much and too overwhelming and not at all fitting with my idea of how things work or should work or justice or for the visual learners, it feels like my internal equilibrium just got smashed to smithereens, which makes me want to lock my door, eat a whole bag of Robin Eggs and drink Diet Dr. Pepper in my sweatpants. In a nutshell.
Totally and completely have dropped the ball on the fair trade issue. My apologies. I actually have exciting developments to share but just haven't taken the time to make things official and also, well, just see bullet #2. I will jump back into this soon.
We're about to celebrate one year of marriage! Unbelievable. And also, the best thing ever.
Thanks for letting me (over)share my so-called life (yuk, yuk, yuk) and still being friends with me. Blogs are so weird sometimes, you know? Like am I really sharing this information for your benefit or for my own therapy? And how strange we relate (or feel like we're relating) in digital platforms. The whole "Is this building community or breaking it?" argument. I'm not sure. But thanks for reading. Now maybe go ask someone what's going on in their life in person, you know, just to even things out.

Happy over-contemplative Monday!

p.s. Watch this and tell me you don't love it (minus the cheesy voice):

In process.

2011-04-01T12:00:00.001-05:00

Here comes the sun
And sweet springtime--
I welcome this new season
With wide open arms.

May it be full of:
Freshness
Deep breaths
Laughter
Gathering
Road trips
Simple living
Snowcones
Long walks
Growth
And lingering.

Let it be so.

Photo cred.

Their names are Forgotten.

2011-03-31T12:00:00.004-05:00

And we pulled up in our bus,
Snapped on some gloves
Don't touch anything.

We stepped out in the sun,
Rolled up our sleeves
And took deep breaths.

You flocked toward us
A forest of brown, thirsty eyes
Hands turned out.

We pushed aside
Fear, Confusion, Horror?
And got busy.

Vitamins, aspirin,
Fungal creme, balloons
You wanted it all. Twice.

We didn't have enough.
We didn't have answers.
We tried to smile.

Parasites, brokenness
Hunger, pain, infection
Disease, darkness...

Hope?

Her name is Paola.

2011-03-30T12:00:00.003-05:00

Her name is Paola and she is selfless.
She wins our hearts--but first our bellies--
With silent movements and a shy smile.

She fries plaintains, seasons chicken,
Cuts fresh mango, pineapple, papaya,
Brews strong coffee for weary travelers.

She's the first to wipe up spills
The last to fix a plate
And I never once see her sit down.

One morning, before dawn,
I slip down the stairs and hesitate
At the sight of this dear woman on her knees.

Hands lifted, head bowed,
She whispers Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Amen!
And the sun rises on her beautiful devotion.

His name is Santo.

2011-03-29T12:00:00.007-05:00

His name is Santo and his joy is palpable.
He winces as they turn him on his side
And says "Amen! Amen!" as we pray for him.

His name means holy.
He hasn't walked since 15
And his mattress is chained to the dirt floor.

He has nothing.
He has everything.
He is without.
He is so rich.

He makes me weep tears
Of sorrow
Of confusion
Of injustice
Of admiration
Of inspiration
Of a faith I will never know.

We leave him simple gifts--
New sheets
A small radio
A plump pillow
And swat flies as he beams with gratitude.

And together, we sing
Santo, santo, santo
Yo quiero verte
And leave with him in our hearts.

Her name is Ingrid.

2011-03-28T12:00:00.004-05:00

Her name is Ingrid and she loves to twirl.
She wears a smudged lime green shirt three days in a row
And her giggle is infectious.

They call her a "street kid."
She fights for juice, for toys, for the first balloon
And eats every bite of her rice and beans.

She runs into my arms and we are inseparable.
She wants to ride piggy-back
And be partners in the three-legged race.

Swaying back and forth in the blinding sun,
I hold her tight
And wonder what she dreams.

Repost: We the People

2011-03-18T12:00:00.000-05:00

This week, I'm reposting some of my old favorites in celebration of THREE YEARS blogging...and because I am out of the country sweating my face off and hopefully having the time of my life. Enjoy!
* * * * *
We the People

This is the duty of our generation as we enter the twenty-first century -- solidarity with the weak, the persecuted, the lonely, the sick, and those in despair. It is expressed by the desire to give a noble and humanizing meaning to a community in which all members will define themselves not by their own identity but by that of others.
-Elie Wiesel

*****

Growing up, I was the goody goody of the classroom. If the teacher asked a question, my hand was in the air. If the teacher left the room, I was the one put in charge. I learned early on that to excel in the classroom meant to be timely, studious, organized and compliant. And so I was.

As I entered high school, academic success shifted to include the ever-increasing obligation of extracurricular activities. Due to my inability to say no and my innate desire to meet expectations, I became the ultimate joiner. I juggled schoolwork with cheerleading, volunteer work with youth group and my sanity with the growing pile of multi-colored PostIts sticking out from a well-worn planner. All the while, I was assured that this kind of lifestyle was necessary, it was worth it, and that someday it would pay off. And I believed.

College hit full-force and with it, the constant push to focus on My Future. So, I got the grades, I landed the internships, I stayed involved...I played along. But at the end of the day, as I fell into bed, mind-whirling with never-ending To-Do lists and flitting from one worry to the next, I couldn't help but feel I was simply spinning in circles. Dizzying myself with relentless expectations that made me believe I could never do enough. And I began to question.

And now I've entered the workforce. And feel almost...betrayed. Tricked into believing that all of my sacrifices and scribbled lists and carefully-contemplated decisions should have resulted in something more. Something bigger than a 9 to 5 cubicle existence. Is this what I've been waiting for all this time?

I suppose this could be considered a mid-mid-life crisis. A sort of "rite of passage" into the working world as I transition from my glorified college years of exploration and independence into a more mature phase of responsibility and obligation. That it will pass.

But maybe this is proof that these traditional ideas of success do not apply anymore. Not to my generation. That we are searching for our place in society--not to arrive at a dream job and buy the house with a picket fence and live the comfortable, insulated, isolated existence--but instead, to use our passions to improve this broken world.

Our heightened global awareness has created a feeling of responsibility--a responsibility to build community instead of division and to consider others when society tells us to look out for ourselves. We are struggling to make traditional molds fit into this transformed way of thinking, and as a result, we are continually fighting feelings of frustration, dissatisfaction and overwhelming confusion.

Alone, we will likely falter. Succumb to the voices of doubt and reason that find us charmingly naive, endearingly hopeful but ultimately impractical.

But together, our uncertain whispers will unite to form a murmuring chorus. And our difficult questions may not be answered but neither will they be ignored.

May this be the new American dream.

Repost: The perils of gluttony

2011-03-17T12:00:00.000-05:00

This week, I'm reposting some of my old favorites in celebration of THREE YEARS blogging...and because I am out of the country sweating my face off and hopefully having the time of my life. Enjoy!
* * * * *
The perils of gluttony

Sunday morning. St. John's Lutheran Church. 1990.

After an hour of Playdough, Father Abraham and feltboard Jesus, I gleefully wriggled next to my best friend Marissa and settled in for a long service. As the organ blared, we rejoiced at our successful cajoling efforts that resulted in our families sharing the same long wooden pew.

Crayons in hand, we critically scanned our Disney Princesses coloring books to select the subject of our latest and greatest artistic achievements.

"Oooh! Cinderella! My favorite!" I squealed with delight as I haphazardly ripped out the selected page.

"She's okay," the ultra-cool Marissa sniffed. "But she's no Ariel."

"Girls! Shhh!" my mom hissed, eyes flashing.

I meekly bowed my head and resumed scribbling.

After a few moments, Marissa began rummaging around her Minnie Mouse lunch box in search of a snack. I heard my own tummy grumble and watched with piqued interest to see what would emerge from her fumbling.

She eventually produced a crinkly red package covered with several colorful dots. "Yesssss!" she cheered quietly. "My favorite!"

She glanced at me, expecting me to share in her glee, but was met with a blank stare.

"What's the matter?" she whispered. "Don't you love them?"

"Um...I don't know," I said. "I've never tried them."

"WHAT?!" she said incredulously and breathed a small sigh of pity. I could feel the color steadily rising in my cheeks.

"Here," she said, sticking out her hand while popping a few of the colorful discs in her mouth. "Try some."

Obediently, I plucked a purple circle from her hand and after dubiously inspecting it, placed it on the middle of my tongue.

I crunched through the sugary shell as my mouth exploded with fruity flavor. My eyes lit up with approval.

"Good, right?" Marissa said with an all-knowing confidence. "Here, have another."

I eagerly grabbed another piece of candy--this time red--and tossed it in my mouth. Again, my senses were awakened with delight.

"Yum!" I said, mouth full of sugary goodness.

Before I could even swallow, Marissa handed me more. Again, I accepted the candy without hesitation.

"Thith ith good!" I said thickly around the ball of goo as I reached for more.

Crayolas in hand, we continued our feast. But no matter how quickly I chomped on each delectable treat, Marissa was always waiting with more. As I added fruity flavor after fruity flavor, the growing glob of sugar between my cheeks ballooned at an alarming rate.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so good.

I focused intently on chewing, but the gummy ping-pong ball of infinite cavities didn't budge. Wide-eyed, I turned to Marissa in panic.

"Hchlmf!" I spluttered.

"What?" she asked.

"HCHLMF!" I repeated, sugary spit flying everywhere.

"I can't understand you," she said, peering at me with a furrowed brow.

Out of pure sugar-induced terror, I burst into tears, stopping only when safely perched on my mother's lap and with her coaxing, successfully deposited the fruity goo in a Kleenex.

Just in time for confession.

-end scene-

Repost: Tip of a Hat

2011-03-16T12:00:00.000-05:00

This week, I'm reposting some of my old favorites in celebration of THREE YEARS blogging...and because I am out of the country sweating my face off and hopefully having the time of my life. Enjoy!
* * * * *
Tip of Hat

It was a typical Tuesday morning, which meant that I inevitably was running late.

I flew out the door, tossed my over-stuffed bag in the car and quickly scrunched my damp curls. As I pulled out of the drive and took off down the street, I made a mental note of all the things I should (but probably wouldn't) accomplish before a new day dawned.

I brought my car to a hurried stop at the end of my street and waited impatiently for an opening in the sudden surge of traffic. As I prepared to join the snaking train of over-caffeinated 9-to-5ers (yes, I just made that a noun...get over it), I saw him approaching the nearby crosswalk and inwardly groaned.

A pedestrian. Naturally.

He was a small man with slow movements. Old but not feeble. A bristly white beard poked out from under his hat as he ambled in front of my car.

Then suddenly, just as I was releasing a small sigh of frustration, he turned towards me with an appreciative grin, tipped his gray hat and continued on his morning stroll.

His face will soon fade from my memory and mine is likely already gone from his. But for a brief moment--a mere blip in our journeys--we allowed each other into our worlds.

And suddenly my to-do list really didn't seem that important.

Repost: From T-town to Tinsletown...High-five!

2011-03-15T12:00:00.001-05:00

This week, I'm reposting some of my old favorites in celebration of THREE YEARS blogging...and because I am out of the country sweating my face off and hopefully having the time of my life. Enjoy!
* * * * *
From T-town to Tinsletown...High-five!

Brace yourself, ladies and gentlemen. I am about to reveal some ridiculous news. Even for me.

First, a little background.

My uncle hails from the great land of Topeka. (jealous? I know...) By day, he works at Hallmark. By night, he is a taxi driver. I'm not sure why he chose to pick up this as a part-time gig, but his interactions with the Topeka night life has certainly spiced up our family Thanksgiving dinners. Let's just say that taking taxis in T-town is a little more than sketch.

Anyway, I was home visiting a few weeks ago and my dad mentions offhand that Uncle Jay has been asked to be in a German documentary. As you can imagine, this strikes me as quite unusual since a) Topeka doesn't exactly seem like a logical filming location for such an endeavor and b) my uncle (though German) isn't who I would consider a prime source for said documentary. Needless to say, I was quite intrigued.

A week or so passed and over Easter break, I again was home. As we're sitting around the living room, my dad tells me he has quite the update with Uncle Jay. I snapped to attention immediately. And I was not disappointed.

It seems that Uncle Jay had been in the lobby of the cab business when a woman walked in looking lost. My uncle offered his assistance and she proceeded to tell him she was looking for someone to be in the aforementioned German documentary and that, in fact, he would be a perfect candidate. My uncle wasn't initially thrilled with this idea, but after a bit of persuasion, he agreed to the interview.

Originally, the interview was scheduled for T-town. But some bug hit the film crew which caused them to reschedule and before he knew it, my uncle was headed to KCI Airport to meet the elusive documentary crew. In a parking lot. By himself. (apparently he missed out on McGruff growing up)

So, he's waiting...and waiting...and waiting. And the parking lot is pretty much deserted and he's kind of getting ticked because time is going by...when suddenly, two 15 passenger vans arrive out of thin air and a flurry of activity follows as people are jumping out of vans, setting up cameras, mic-ing my uncle (is that a word? mic-ing?), mic-ing each other...it is all Uncle Jay can do to keep his head from spinning. Within a few minutes, he finds himself in his taxi with a European man in the passenger seat who appears to be the interviewer, a European gentleman hunkered down in the backseat with a camera and another European tech guy who tells him to drive slow and follow the van ahead of them so they can get it all on film. And so the adventure began.

As they're driving along, my uncle grew increasingly frazzled. His German passenger would pepper him with questions then break into rather heated German exchanges (or what my uncle thought was German) with the rest of the crew, leaving my uncle almost constantly bewildered.

To make matters worse, his strict orders to drive slow was not exactly winning him friends on the road. As he found himself going 45 mph on the highway and causing a snaking line of angry travelers behind him, he tried desperately to distract himself. Being a big fan of pretty much anything with an engine, he called out at one point, "Oh, check out that '53 Chevy!" to which the entire carload of German passengers erupted in almost sheer panic. "THE PAPARAZZI! IT'S THE PAPARAZZI!" the interviewer shouted, ducking down frantically. Completely caught off guard, my uncle paused as he tried to explain that the paparazzi certainly wasn't common in the middle of Kansas, and furthermore, there was no evidence that anyone in the Chevy was paying any attention to the Topeka taxi. But the Germans were quite convinced, shouting again, "THE PAPARAZZI! THEY ARE ALWAYS AFTER US! QUICK! YOU MUST TURN HERE!" The camera man, now curled into a ball in the backseat frantically tapped Uncle Jay's shoulder and insisted he take his next left. Realizing he was in the company of completely irrational though albeit very passionate strangers, he finally obliged.

Headed back towards the airport, Uncle Jay struggled to remain civil. His nerves were ragged. His patience was wearing thin. And to make it worse, his interviewer kept referring to his clothing and what famous German designer he was wearing. To which my uncle most certainly had nothing to say as he clenched his jaw and continued to drive.

As he pulled into the parking lot, he had the most maddening exchange with his feisty passenger yet.
Crazy Interviewer: Now I'm sure you don't know this, but I am actually famous in my country.
Uncle Jay: Oh, really? That's nice.
CI: Yes, I make movies. And I am famous...but I am sure this does not interest you.
UJ (absentmindedly): Mmhhmm. Wow. That's great.
CI: In fact, I have won many big awards for my performances. But you probably do not care.
UJ: Yeah...Oh, no, I mean, that's cool. Congratulations.
CI: I actually have these awards here. Today. In the trunk. But I am sure you do not wish to see them.
UJ: What? Oh. Um...sure. I mean, yeah. I guess I'll look at them. (trying to mask his annoyance at such leading questions)

The trunk was opened and lo and behold, several large, impressive looking awards are sitting there bubble-wrapped. Uncle Jay is not only expected to "oooh!" and "aaah!" but is also asked to take several pictures with said awards as his passengers continue their German exchanges.

Finally, Uncle Jay reached his breaking point.

"Look fellas," he said, "I am cold. I am tired. And it is getting late. Can we just wrap this up so I can get the hell out of here?"

Within minutes, the party is over and my uncle headed home, head spinning, as he tried to make sense of the madness he just experienced.

The next day at work, Uncle Jay is relaying this surreal experience to his co-worker, who, for reasons still unknown to me, gets an idea.

"Wait a minute," his co-worker said. "This sounds like something straight from Borat."

My uncle gives him a blank stare.

"You have seen Borat, right?" his co-worker asks.

My uncle shakes his head no.

They jump on a computer to google and pull up photos of Borat and his alter-egos, including Bruno, a gay Austrian fashion show presenter (at least according to Wikipedia. I am no Sacha Baron Cohen connoisseur).

Suddenly, my uncle gasps.

"That's him! That's the guy!" he says, pointing at the photo of Bruno. "That is the German passenger that interviewed me!"

Yep, that's right...as it turns out, Sacha Baron Cohen is following the success of his 2006 hit Borat with a similar film using--you guessed it--his Bruno character. So the interview Uncle Jay had for a "German documentary" was actually footage for the upcoming Bruno. And the pesky "German" interviewer was actually Cohen himself.

Which means, my friends, that in a few short months my uncle may be hitting the big screen (the movie is currently slotted to debut in October 2008).

Uncle Jay is currently racking his brain to remember exactly what he said. My brother is currently the coolest person in his frat house. And I am currently holding my breath and praying that Uncle Jay's big debut is not completely mortifying.

Holy. Crap.

I couldn't make this up if I tried.

Repost: Workin 9 to 5...

2011-03-14T12:00:00.001-05:00

It has come to my attention that surviving life in the working world—specifically one spent in the cubicle environment—is no small feat. The transition to cube existence can be particularly difficult after one is used to the on-the-go lifestyle of the typical college student and at its most extreme, can even trigger a momentary mid-mid-life crisis at the ripe age of 23.

In an effort to alleviate the shock such a radical change in lifestyle can often produce, I have decided to offer a few suggestions for those making the switch.

(By no means is this an all-inclusive list. It merely reflects my experience thus far.)

Without further ado, I offer you:

Sara’s Guide to Surviving Cubicle Life

1. Chat it up. If I could give one piece of advice to the up-and-coming office guru, it would definitely be this—get to know your co-workers. Sure, they may come off as a little strange at first and you may not agree with their choice of hairstyle, but don’t let that intimidate you. There is no telling what gems lie hidden amongst those never-ending cubicle walls. In fact, I could write a whole post on office characters I’ve encountered—Big Trent, RenRon, Lunch-Date-Disaster Lance, Julie the Workout Queen...I could go on and on. The point is, you won’t discover how quirky these people really are unless you make a little effort. Besides, what else do you have to do?

(Note: If you choose to nickname your co-workers, please be advised that while this makes for entertaining references, it can put you in quite the awkward social situation if the nickname manages to slip out in everyday conversation.)

2. Stop! Hey, what’s that sound? If you are planning on excelling in the office environment, it is imperative that you heighten your sense of hearing. This will come in handy on several occasions. First, while chatting with your co-workers will teach you a lot, over-hearing their cubicle conversations with others will teach you even more. Just remember they are most certainly returning the favor. Consider yourself warned.
But an acute sense of hearing has far more meaningful purposes than mere office entertainment—it is your link to these two magic words: office treats. Donut Mondays, Bagel Fridays, birthday cake, Christmas cookies, and all the trans fat sprinkled in-between, it is that listening ear that is your key to being the first to know.
So strain those ears, my friends. The essence of your very existence depends on it.

3. Caffeine? Yes please! Will it stain your teeth? Yes. Leave you with bad breath? Mmhmm. Possibly cause stomach ulcers? You got it. However, it is time you throw caution to the wind and embrace this fact—you (yes, even you) will likely become a caffeine addict. Think of it as a right of passage.
Don’t like the strong-and-super-crappy-office coffee? No worries. Add a few (or five) Splenda packets in that bad boy and you’re good to go. Cheers!

4. Cardigans and keds—so hot right now. As with most things in life, survival in the workplace often hinges on wearing the proper attire. In an office, this consists of several wardrobe necessities.
First and foremost is the cardigan. Start stocking up now, ladies, because this is one staple you can’t live without. No matter what the temperature may be outside, the cube temp is almost always guaranteed to raise those goosebumps faster than the donuts disappear from the break room. Unless you are planning on permanently planting yourself in front of a space heater, a cardigan is the way to go.

Second, and perhaps most heartbreaking, get over your high heels (or at least be prepared to bring a change of shoes). I know what you are thinking. “I will never fall victim to the skirt and tennis shoes combo! That has my mother written all over it!” You’re right. It’s not pretty. But as painful as this fashion disaster may be, it’s a whole lot better than hobbling around the office with massive blisters because you wore your sky-high heels while walking into work. Believe me, it is not worth it.

Note: I am not sure what the equivalent of this fashion tip would be for men. However, I do know that despite the trend, no work environment warrants the existence of the mullet. Sorry, but no.

5. Office space. Sure, it takes a little work. Okay, a lot of work. But if you’re going to be completely surrounded by dull gray walls every day, you must throw yourself into making it the best-looking dull gray walls known in your cubicle community. So go ahead, plaster that cork board with as many photos as humanly possible. Tack up a few posters with cheesy inspirational quotes. Display that Dwight bobble head next to the Kleenex box and germ-X. And when you’re finished, lean back in that ergonomically-correct office chair of yours and swivel around in satisfaction. Welcome home.

And finally, when all else fails…

6. Start a blog.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I just overheard something about day-old cookies in the conference room…

To read on a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day:

2011-03-09T12:00:00.000-06:00

(or in my case, when you realize you have a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad attitude about something that could be totally awesome, amazing, and perhaps even life-changing if I would just get over myself already)

From Seth Godin:

"The worst moments are your best opportunity.

That's how we judge you and how we remember you.

You are presumed to be showing us your real self when you are on deadline, have a headache, are facing a customer service meltdown, haven't had a good night's sleep, are facing an ethical dilemma, are momentarily in power, are caught doing something when you thought no one else was looking, are irritable, have the opportunity to extract revenge, are losing a competition or are truly overwhelmed.

What a great opportunity to tell the story you'd like us to hear about you."

Happy dance, fist pump and general merriment.

2011-03-08T12:00:00.002-06:00

No big deal.

Just notified in writing yesterday that my high-maintenance relationship with Sallie Mae will end in two weeks.

(!!!!)

((!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!))

(((in layman's terms: no more freaking student loans)))

Um, yes I did throw my arms up with absolute glee and do crazy dance moves all over the apartment. Repeatedly. With unabashed dramatic flair. Thinking in ALL CAPS AND EXCLAMATIONS!

Yeah...it feels pretty awesome.

I told Adam to mark his calendar because on 3/25/11 we are freaking celebrating.

Annnnd OMG END SCENE.

Taking crazy pills.

2011-03-07T12:00:00.002-06:00

I'm leaving the country in less than a week.
(which always causes some underlying anxiety...anyone else?)

I woke up to a freaking weird dream.
(weird. weird weird. and disturbing. and sad. let's not talk about it.)

And the city's entire indoor football team (?!) just showed up at my work.
(also weird. but more of a hilariously weird.)

In summary: It's a two cup of coffee kinda day.
(p.s. I've slipped 5 times since I "gave up" soda. Please still be my friend.)

HAPPY MONDAY MANIA!

The best days.

2011-03-04T12:00:00.001-06:00

I woke up with this song in my head and keep playing it over and over.

It's not new. It's not especially cool. But I think it's cheery and just sentimental enough that I can't help but think of fun childhood memories:

-Sitting cross-legged in my PJs on the bathroom floor watching Mom put her make-up on in the mornings, totally and completely in awe.

-Belting out "Wild Thing" in my dad's old Ford pick up and thinking he is the funniest and smartest guy in all the land.

-Little brother's fourth? fifth? birthday where ON VIDEO I am caught in desperation for the limelight, snatching his birthday cards out of his chubby little hand and reading them aloud with great theatrics. (okay maybe not a fun memory for him but definitely hilarious footage)

And I recall sitting in my uncle's house a few months ago, him asking about our life and us wearily saying, "Yeah, things are good. Just pretty crazy right now..." and thinking I can't wait for this season to end and him, not really knowing our life season but still saying with authority, "Look, I know it may not seem like it but life just gets more complicated with time. Things may not be perfect now, but soak it up. You're living some of the best days."

And I know there are many great days before and behind us, but it sure is nice to be reminded once in awhile that in this world of rush! hurry! move forward! move faster! ...that where you are right now is a stop in your journey that will never quite be the same.

And to feel the permission to just put your feet up a minute and rest in that truth.

Happy weekend, friends!

p.s. My husband is totally going to give me crap for loving a Taylor Swift song. I may or may not have said snarky things about her in the past. For that I sincerely apologize. Now, Adam please stop rolling your eyes!

Recipe: Cozy, Comfy, Non-Crumbly Coffee Cake

2011-03-02T12:00:00.000-06:00

This is one of my favorites because a) it reminds me of home and b) my husband loves it. Oh! And c) it isn't chocolate so I feel diverse in my culinary skills. (stop laughing)

My mom made this growing up and it is the best. Really. It is. Even if you don't life coffee, that's okay! You will still love this. It's more of a suggestion like, "Hey! Perhaps you should sip coffee while you partake in such a delectable treat! Whaddya say?"

Adam and I disagree on how to classify this. I say definitely, positively, absolutely it's a breakfast food! Helloooooo, COFFEE in the title?! DEFINITELY breakfast-worthy!

He says (with an eye roll), "SARA. It's a dessert. Get over it."

Agree to disagree?

((BREAKFAST!))

Recipe: Cozy, Comfy, Non-Crumbly Coffee Cake
Note: Sometimes my sweet tooth gets the best of me and I add extra topping. Okay fine. Every time.

Ingredients:

Mix: 1/2 c butter, 1 c. sugar, 2 eggs

Add: 1 c. sour cream or buttermilk (I always go with the buttermilk myself)

2 c. flour

1 t. baking soda

1 t. vanilla

1 t. baking powder

1/2 t. salt

Topping: 1/3 c. brown sugar

1/4 c. white sugar

1 t. cinnamon

1/2 c. chopped nuts

Directions:

Pour 1/2 batter into 9 x 13 pan.

Sprinkle with 1/2 topping.

Add rest of batter.

Add rest of topping.

Bake @ 350 for 30 min.

Today.

2011-03-01T12:00:00.007-06:00

Today I slept in when I should have done yoga,
Ate breakfast on the run,
And wore fuchsia tights because I need a little color in my world.

Today I probably won't complete my to-do list,
Will likely daydream about summer sunshine,
And may create something worthwhile.

Tonight I'll go home late to a messy kitchen,
Ignore an incomplete home project,
And hug my overextended husband.

And as I collapse on our too-small couch,
I hope I can forget the should have's and the did not's
And just remember to give thanks.

Friendship.

2011-02-25T12:00:00.002-06:00

I used to have friends all over the map and I loved it.

In college, I'd bounce around campus from event to event with lots of waves and smiles and "Let's get together!"s. Friendships were easy, sometimes surface-y, and many ever-changing.

It was a time of general merriment and joy and there was a life, a breath, a feeling of being alive that came with the season. Let's share! Let's celebrate! Let's be young together! And all the crazy memories (and sometimes mistakes) that followed were still made with a sense of camaraderie. As if we all knew--could feel--this fleeting time would not last and much to our horror, we would grow older. This too would pass. Life would not always be like this.

And then...life did change and despite promises and well-wishes, so did the ties.

Distance, busyness, life got in the way and suddenly I was in a big city with few friends and most of them new.

And I spent a long time missing what I left, some of what I lost, and thinking things will never be what they were.

Even with those who I still saw regularly, something had shifted. No longer were we all lounging with our plastic plates and brownies, playing games in our sweatpants past midnight or setting off to simply create a memory.

Now we were adults--we had jobs, new living arrangements, rings on our fingers that somehow complicated things. It was a necessary, but startlingly abrupt transition.

I wasn't sure what to make of it. And I wasn't sure who to call. And I hated this city, this season of not-knowing, of never-ending transition, of not what it was.

And I still do, sometimes. Because those who have stuck in my life are ones I want to hold onto, ones who knew me then and now, irreplaceable...and yet, not here.

And I know it sounds like one big sob story, but really all I set out to say was that I have been feeling so thankful lately, so blessed, with all those who share my journey day to day. New friendships are hard to forge, especially when life pulls us in so many directions and memories are seemingly so much harder to make, or perhaps experiences are just too exhausting to entertain at the end of a workweek.

Because we don't all share the same road anymore. Decisions are revealing new paths, unique doors, narrower experiences. And when life feels full or unknown or just plain hard, it's difficult to decide who to call alongside you in the journey. Who to trust with your ickiness. Who to intentionally include and how.

And there is a place for those who knew you then--those who are your first phone calls when things fall apart. And those friendships survive distance. Because they must.

But there is something to be said, too, about those who have walked alongside my path--our path--these last few months, expecting nothing, saying little, and just being there.

So for that, I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for reminding me that though the world can seem big, and rather ugly at times, it really is full of beauty. And we have felt that shining through so many faces--old and new--and I know that what was, may be no longer...but what will be holds a promise.

Perhaps we're all a bit wiser now. A bit more tired. A few more scratches. But there is still so much life to be celebrated. So much to experience. And it is so much better to do it together.

To those you continually show up, near and far, thank you.

Now let's go make some more memories before we get old and creaky.

Unpacked.

2011-02-24T12:00:00.000-06:00

And with an unexpected burst of energy, I opened the overflowing closet. I organized. I filed. I rummaged. I sorted.

My eyes fell on the big bulky bag I have been avoiding for weeks now and without thinking, I unzipped it.

And out you poured.

I tried to push the thoughts away and focus on the task at hand. I grabbed your favorite afghan--the one that covered your wooden rocking chair...the one that still has your smell and laid it gently on the back of our couch.

I grabbed the pitcher next--it's bright flowers singing songs of spring--and set it on our shelf.

The green glass bowl in the bedroom.

The serving tray tucked safely away.

And then the timer went off and I took dessert out of the oven and suddenly the tears were there. Not flooding. Not loud. Just a few swift, silent ones that I wiped away quietly.

And I dropped everything right then and snuggled into the couch with your blanket wrapped around me and you were there and I could hear you saying, "Well, honey, how nice!" as you popped in for a visit, followed quickly with "Now, Adam, how is teaching going? Any brats these days?" with a wink and a chuckle.

And I recalled the last time--the very last--I visited your home and he said, eyes red and words squeezing out from the lump in his throat, "So, just, you know, look around and let me know what you want and we'll figure it out." And it was horrible, it really was, to be in your space and look at your things and think I want nothing, I want everything, I just want you to come. home. And offer me ice cream and talk about Grandpa and I'll stay all afternoon. And I felt icky and just put a few things aside and thought exhausting thoughts--too much? not enough? I'm doing this all wrong...

And it isn't about those things, and it doesn't change anything, really, and I know you aren't in those things and are instead in your new home that I will one day visit, but for now, I have to say, it's really nice to see you everywhere I turn.

Our birthday month is coming up soon, and I know that I won't be getting that signature $2 bill in the mail (isn't it funny, the things we miss?) or do our birthday lunch.

But as I go about my day to day, I'll think of you.

And when I'm feeling sentimental, I'll reach for the blanket and hear you say as I wrap myself tight, "Now, honey, don't you keep crying over me. Dyin's just a part of livin."

Recipe: Cheery Cherry Streusel Bars

2011-02-23T12:00:00.001-06:00

When Adam and I stop for candy before a movie*, our tactics could not be more different.

Me: Chocolate. Always. Maybe chocolate/peanut butter. Maybe chocolate/mint. Maybe even chocolate/raisins if I'm feeling crazy. But always always chocolate. Always.

Adam: Fruity. Sour. Basically your all-around gag fest, which is a major bummer when he offers to share and I DON'T EVEN WANT ANY!

This attitude carries over into the kitchen as well. However, since yours truly is usually the baker, you can guess which ingredient is a staple in our house.

Always.

UNTIL NOW!

Last week I was lucky enough to borrow a Better Homes and Gardens Favorite Bars & Cookies recipe book from my fab mother-in-law.

To be honest, I was a bit cookie-d out so I decided to go out on a limb and give these fruity streusel bars a whirl.

And man oh man, am I glad I did! I seriously cannot even tell you how many times Adam has stopped me to say, "Whoa. Best dessert ever. My favorite of all-time. I love this. ...did I mention this is my favorite?" And I loved it too!

So, I'm gonna go ahead and give it five stars and say GO MAKE IT!

Recipe: Cheery Cherry Streusel Bars
Source: Better Homes and Gardens

INGREDIENTS
1 cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 egg
2 cups flour
3/4 cup pecans, chopped
1 10-oz jar of any ol' preserves you please

Optional topping: powdered sugar icing
1 cup powdered sugar
1 Tablespoon milk
1/4 teaspoon vanilla

DIRECTIONS
1. Preheat oven to 350º
2. In a medium bowl beat the butter and sugar with an electric mixer on medium until combined.
3. Add egg; beat until combined.
4. Mix in flour.
5. Stir in pecans. Set aside 1 cup of the pecan mixture for the topping.
6. Press the remaining pecan mixture into the bottom of an ungreased 9x9 pan.
7. Spread preserves over crust to within 1/2 inch of edges.
8. Dot the rest of the pecan mixture on top of preserves.
9. Bake about 45 minutes or until pecan topping is golden brown.
10. Cool in pan. Drizzle with optional powdered sugar icing or cover with sprinkled powdered sugar.

Optional topping directions
1. Combine powdered sugar, milk and vanilla in a small bowl.
2. Stir in enough additional milk, 1 teaspoon at a time, to make an icing of drizzling consistency.

...did Adam mention it's his favorite?!

*yes, to smuggle in...except now some movie theaters let us parade on in with candy in tow sooo alleviated conscience?