Monday Afternoon Reflections

Its probably not a surprise to anyone who knows me that this post is coming from the fiery depths of the wicked practice known as procrastination. I'm procrastinating studying for my anatomy test that is Thursday. If you've been on the receiving end of my complaining about this test for past 2 weeks, then I apologize for bringing it up again. When its crunch time, I like to do everything BUT what it is I'm supposed to be crunching for. So my house is spotless, I'm all caught up on blog reading, I've done all paperwork that needs to be done for the week, AND I've called to set up cable, which is something I've been putting off since I moved here. Why have I put off calling cable? Because I hate calling companies and setting stuff up. I don't know why. The only reason I have electricity and gas is because my wonderful fiance called for me after much whining & pleading.

ANYWAY. The contents of this post stem from something I was thinking about on Father's Day, as well as something that happened in my therapy session this morning. Its pretty funny to me.

I spent Father's Day at home with my family this year, and I started thinking about little things my dad used to do that I thought were amazing. Normal dad stuff that I vividly recall being just so impressed with. I remember using a wash cloth after I brushed my teeth to clean up all the toothpaste I got on my face (I used to be a messy teeth-brusher). Occasionally my bathroom cabinet was stocked only with the bigger & newer wash cloths that were too thick for me to wring out. Thats when my dad stepped in. Good grief. It was amazing to see him wring out that wash cloth with one thorough twisty squeeze. ONE TWISTY SQUEEZE. Thats all it took! And it was ready to go. It would've taken me 57 minutes to do that kind of work at the time. I knew it, too. I knew I had tiny hands and sucked at wringing thick cloths out, and I knew if I asked my mom to do it, she'd do a good job, but not near as intense of a twisty squeeze as my dad. It was very exciting for me...I didn't get out much.

Another thing he used to do that blew my mind: Anyone remember chocolate soldiers? They were a chocolate milk/yoohoo type drink. Except better. Way more chocolatey. Which is awesome, BUT...that means more chocolate settled at the bottom of the bottle. Yikes. I used to ask my dad if we could stop at the gas station near our house to get a chocolate soldier when I'd be out running errands with him or after church. He was always up for that. Without having to ask, he'd shake that bottle up so vigorously, you'd think the milk came out of the cow chocolate. Seriously, 3 good shakes and the chocolate was more incorporated into the milk than I could've ever hoped for. "Freakin A, dad! Way to go!" I used to say to him. I think. Maybe not.

Tying this all together, this morning in a therapy session, my 3 year old client was wiping glitter off the table, and when I realized we were out of time, I got it all in one swift motion with a paper towel. The look on her face was exactly how I remember feeling when my dad would wring out my wash cloths or shake up my chocolate soldiers. She was impressed, man. It made me feel like a grownup, which is a bittersweet feeling as we all know. It reminded me, though, that I really am a giant grownup to the kids I work with. They don't know that I'm stressed out or concerned I may not be doing things exactly right. They have no idea. They just know that when its time for speech, if they don't fill up their sticker chart, they're not getting a prize out of my badass prize box.

In conclusion, being a grownup is cool sometimes.

I'm back!

Lets ignore the fact that I haven't logged into my own blog in well over a month. Lets also ignore the fact that I'm eating carbs past 2 pm, a time I deemed necessary (based on zero research) to cut off all carb intake. Instead, here are some pictures from my iPhone!

BAM! Moving.

Matthew & Jake. My heroes. My dramatic heroes. My struggling, dramatic, pizza-loving heroes.

I have no words.

This movie is irresistible, a ton of fun, full of heart.

Matthew built this shelf for my new apartment. 

Finished product.

Sorry for the lack of cohesion. My pictures do not really tell a story, but they are proof that a lot has changed in the past 2 months for me. I graduated, moved & am up to my neck in my first semester of grad school. I said goodbye to my roommate of 3 years as she and her husband moved away to Boulder, CO, and am now living alone until December 10, 2011. I must say...living alone is amazing. It took me about a week to realize it, but I love it now. I've cooked a few tasty things since I've been here, and I've got the recipes saved (as well as pictures!) so the next few posts be food ones. FINALLY.

Don't lose the faith! If you're into cooking, come back & look at the recipes I've stolen from other blogs. It'll be a total blast.

5 Creative Ways To Display Your Bling.

Obviously, I think I have the prettiest engagement ring that has ever existed. I hope those of you reading this who are engaged/have an engagement ring think the same about your ring (I'm sure you do!). I'd like to share with you a few subtle ways you can show your ring off without being a total douche. I practice these daily!

1.

Drink diet sodas any time someone is talking to you. Make sure its fountain with a straw option so you never have to move your hand from the front of the cup.

2.

Have dramatic and loud phone conversations in public. Pace the room and turn around a lot of times so you can give anyone/everyone in vicinity a chance to catch a glimpse.

3.

Do a sideways/sincere-looking weenie laugh any time someone tells a joke. Make eye contact and keep your hand in front of your mouth, I REPEAT: KEEP HAND IN FRONT OF MOUTH.

4.

"Fix your contact." Classic.

5.

Complain about the headache you don't have. Keep eyes closed for intensity.

Did you guys have a totally balling mother's day? I def did. My mom marinated cheese. Ok, bye!

Monday List.

1. There was a spider in my car this morning that almost made me wreck just by existing. I don't know how to fix this problem. Matthew is shaking his head right now. STOP IT! IT WAS BIG! 
2. My parents bestowed upon us a KitchenAid mixer for Easter, and I'm whipping up my first recipe with it for Mother's Day. YBYA there will be an accompanying blog post. 
3. I'm tired of school. I want a summer vacation. I regret applying to grad school. No I don't. Yes I do. No I don't. I have a headache.
4. I want a tan. I need a tan.
5. I have a test tomorrow + 2 projects to turn in. 
6. Where can I get boxes? I have to pack up my house at some point.
7. My iPhone screen shattered last night because I didn't get an OtterBox like everyone told me to. 
8. Who can I pay in peanut butter crackers to come here and wash my hair/massage my head? Russell, do you read this blog? Do you do house calls? Helloooo?
9. I think I hear a spider.
10. One day I intend to figure out the shaded dots representing which burner is which on stoves. 
11. Today is not that day.
12. Why do you have to be able to read blurry/squiggly fake words just to buy concert tickets?
13. Why am I pricing concert tickets when I need to be studying?
14. Could a foodie tell me what chives contribute? Has anyone ever said "BUT THANK GOD FOR THE CHIVES!"? I'm just wondering. I know not their purpose. 
15. I am blessed with the very things that stress me out. I can handle it all as long as I maintain this kick-ass support system I've got going on. 

Cinni Minnies.

I have a cinnamon roll problem. Here it is: I love them too much. 

And in honor of that love, I've written a poem. Here it goes.

Hey you hot, sweet puppies.

I think you're mighty tasty.

Copyright 2011

These. THESE. These are every bit as tasty as they are darling. I promise, because I tested them out on my roommate, a cinnamon roll connoisseur, and she gave me a thumbs up. Which is sign language for "these cinnamon rolls are a hit!" if you didn't already know.

I failed to capture pictures of each step of the way, but thats because there were so few steps and it was so simple and I am so lazy. Here's the breakdown:

Ingredients:

• 1 can buttermilk refrigerated biscuits (I used Pillsbury's new kind called "Simple" because I'm super healthy and they take away 100 calories. Thats not true at all. A lie is what it is. From the pits of hell.)
• 5 tablespoons softened butter
• 1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
• 2 teaspoons cinnamon
• 1 cup powdered sugar
• 5 tablespoons heavy cream

What you're going to do first is preheat your oven to 350. Go ahead and leave your oven on 350 at all times since most things bake at that temperature. Okay, don't. House fires, etc. Next thing you'll do is spray a cookie sheet with some Pam or whatever you like to use. Then on your (clean) counter surface, flatten out each biscuit. Smear some softened butter on each biscuit. Sprinkle some brown sugar & cinnamon on said uncooked buttered biscuits. Roll those puppies up like a jelly-roll. Cut those babies into 6 leetle cinny minnies. You know what I'm talking about. Lay them cut side up on greased cookie sheet, and let them cook for about 16 minutes. Or whenever they look ready. You'll know. You'll totally know. While they're baking...

Dump a cup of powdered sugar into a bowl and whisk in 5 tablespoons of heavy cream. Add a little more if its too thick. Stick your finger in it. Lick it off. Repeat until someone sees you and accuses you of being weird. This is your icing. Set it aside. 

Once these puppies/babies/cinnamon rolls are ready to come out of the oven, drizzle the icing all over them. Let them cool for 5 minutes before attempting to pop them in your mouth. You'll thank me.

Thats it. SO easy. Make 'em. Eat 'em. Love 'em.

Yikes, its almost 2 am.

Normally by this time I'd have fallen into bed like a chopped down tree and been snoozing for a good 3 hours. Tonight I'm in the wedding planning zone. Also the apartment decoration inspiration-getting zone. Also the finger nail biting zone, but don't tell my fave guy, Matt. He'll beat me up.

Just kidding! The most he's ever beat me up was every single day when we "play" karate & he boxes my face real hard and JUST KIDDING AGAIN mwahahaha.

I'm seriously kidding (oxymoron?), please don't call the authorities.

We spent a good part of this weekend searching for homes in my soon-to-be/his current city. We wanted someplace that I could live in by myself until we got married (preferably near the school I'll be attending beginning next month), and that he could just move into once our last names were the same. I think we may have found that place. Updates on that to come this week :)

I've been looking at Design*Sponge for ideas on how to make cute small spaces, so if any of you have favorite home design blogs, I'd love for you to share!

As pumped as I am about finding ideas for my new home, I'd better go to sleep. 2011 is probably going to be one of the busiest years of my life, so beauty rest is important. As are anti-aging skin care products, which I stocked up on last week. Goodnight!

A Story.

I'm blogging from a bubble bath, folks. Felt like I needed to straight up tell you what was up. Yeah. I'm in the bath, and YES I have Martha Washington hair (junior high pool party reference, anyone?) as I type this, but try to forget about that.

Yesterday was a fab day. It was totally productive & 100% feel-good weather. Dang near everything was roses & rainbows. I observed cool clients all morning, scored THREE language tests in my afternoon class (it takes me forev to score), and worked on campus for the rest of the day answering phones. After I got off work, I went to the grocery and came home feeling like a champ (minus the cut on my foot that I couldn't seem to stop complaining about). I hung out with my roommate (Katie G) for a little while, then with my pal Stephanie. Normal afternoon, totally ready for a chill evening at this point. I'm hoping to watch the new Parenthood (AKA P-Sauce AKA P-Hood AKA PH) with Katie G, but we find ourselves locked out of our home right as the sun is fading. 

Perfect.

"Locked out?" you ask. 

"Locked out," I say.

Sure, we had the front door key. Its the only key we had. But it wouldn't work for some reason. Katie G had her cell phone, but that was it. My phone was inside, as were our keys and our sanity. Ok, just my sanity was gone. I started having a panic attack once it became totally dark. Finally it broke off into the door. Our rental company's emergency line was no help. Nobody answered. (Keep in mind our neighborhood isn't the greatest, not to mention our grass hasn't been mowed in 2 years and all I kept thinking about were snakes and rats and bobcats and lasagna [I was hungry].) We tried for what seemed like forever breaking into our own house. 

We kicked in the doggy door, dangit. My ponytail didn't even look big enough to fit through it, but I was determined. Once I squeezed my head through, I realized I was stuck and began screaming hysterically. 

That part about the doggy door isn't true.

Then I remembered! My strapping, dapper, handy, manly fiance had a spare key! Yes! Last month when our pals Andy & Polly got married, I gave Matt a spare key to my house since he would need a place to keep his fancy wedding stuff, and I wouldn't be home to let him in. I forgot to get the key back, so "I'll call him!" I thought.

Turns out, I don't know his number.

Thats right, and I probably don't know yours either. Thats because I don't know ANYONE'S. Does anyone know phone numbers anymore? I mean, you log it into your phone and you never have to dial it again. But my phone was inside. Oh my gosh. I felt freaking insane for not knowing my own fiance's digits! Using my roommate's phone obv, we make some calls, text some folks, hoping SOMEONE could give us my fiance's number.

And when we finally get the digits...

"Hello?"

"MATT! Hey!"

"Uh hey."

"Its Katie!"

"Who?"

"Your fiance! The woman you're going to marry in 8 months!"

"Oh? Hey!"

"WE LOCKED OURSELVES OUT AND WE HAVE BEEN TRYING TO BREAK IN, AND MATT, I DON'T KNOW YOUR PHONE NUMBER, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? WE'RE MISSING PARENTHOOD AND OHMYGOD, I FORGOT YOU HAD A KEY AND THEN I REMEMBERED AND MATT, THE KEY BROKE OFF IN THE DOOR AND CAN YOU JUST PLEASE BRING THE KEY WE CAN'T GET IN AND I HAVE A TEST TOMORROW AND..."

"Haha. I'm on my way."

"But I love you."

"I love you too. See you in an hour."

Boom. Saved. I don't know what else to say except once we got inside I kissed the ground. No I didn't, you guys know I don't own a mop or a swiffer, that would be stupid and disgusting of me. 

The end.