Eleven

This past weekend, the girls and I celebrated our 11th anniversary.

I am not quite sure how this happened because I still feel like I am 23 and recently recovering from my *NSYNC obsession.

(Okay, let's be honest. I never really recovered.)

(I still love them.)

(Boy bands forever.)

But eleven years with these girls is one of my most favorite accomplishments. It takes work and each of us have fought to stay together. And I am so glad we have because it is rare to find people who know you so well.

For our fun weekend on the town, we all headed downtown to our favorite hotel, sans babies, husbands and to-do lists, and spent 24 hours eating, relaxing and laughing.

Jenn, Abby, Kim, Natalie and Rachel making the lobby look beautiful.

This has become our designated hang-out spot. We take over this whole section of the lobby while we try to eat as much of the free happy hour buffet as possible.

Two of these girls are currently preggers. That makes babies #11 and #12, already loved so much!

After we eat all the free food we can, we then go up to our room, change and primp, and then go out to a fabulous dinner. My apologies to Jenn for covering up her face. Sometimes I have limited control over my limbs.

 

 

The best selfie ever. Abby took this as we were walking downtown and I love how happy we all are. It's perfect.

 



 

The girls had a belated birthday celebration for me and a flaming piece of cheesecake landed right in front of me. I love flaming cheesecake.

 

 

And I love how special these girls make you feel on your big day.

 

SIDE NOTE: a five-week birthday is highly recommended. Try to make it happen.

 

 



 

The next morning, after seven us (plus my breathing machine) piled into one hotel suite to sleep, we headed downstairs to once again tackle the buffet.

 

And here is my home-girl Rachel. She is my other sister. Claire agrees.

 

 

Eight omelets, multiple cups of coffee, muffins, bagels, fabulous conversation and a mountain of bacon later, we loaded up and headed home, refreshed, full and excited for the next year ahead.

Eleven years is a lot of life lived: joy, heartache, accomplishments, frustrations, weddings, babies, promotions, graduations, beginnings, endings, hope restored. And I am so glad I have lived it with these girls.

The Recap You Didn't Know You Needed

My re-entry into the real world last week was a bit rough. My plane from the DR had to make an emergency landing in Miami. It had something to do with our landing gear not working properly and the pilots were 94% sure that we would land without a problem.

Ummm...

 

Awesome?

Needless to say, we landed perfectly and then proceeded through customs, immigration and then re-boarded with the same fearless pilots for our layover in Atlanta. But because of our small detour, both my aunt and I missed our connecting flights and instead arrived home much, much later.

HOWEVER. The trip was unbelievably amazing. Relaxation was the goal and it was accomplished in strides:

The weather was a perfect 80 degrees.

The food was so fresh and delicious that I actually ate shrimp.

There were long conversations into the night, both in Spanish and in English

There were new recipes to tackle in a fully-stocked kitchen.

There was dipping your toes into the ocean and swimming until you became pruny.

There was dancing. Oh, there was dancing.

 And there was time to soak up the glorious sun (with SPF 50, of course), while deepening old relationships and developing new ones.

It was dreamy in every possible way.

...

And then I came home and the Arctic Vortex arrived.

But my dad also came home for his 72 hour furlough and everything seemed right with the world, Vortex included. On top of that, I got to make cupcakes for a baby shower: coconut cream and double chocolate fudge.

They are my new best friends.

We also went out for my birthday. I wanted us all to be together to celebrate. Sadly, Claire was down with a migraine but the rest of us ate for her:

 

 

 

 

 

Carr looks like an undercover cop in this picture. Love it.

 

 

Spirit fingers at dinner? Of course.

Two of my most favorite boys.

And finally, if you didn't know, Denver is going to the Super Bowl this weekend. It's a big, freaking deal. And our downtown looks so fantastically cool. It's going to be a great game!

 

Time to Ride, boys!

Top Ten: The Art of the Blind Date

The blind date: equal parts awkward and awesome with a side of nausea.

I had two blind dates this past weekend and I came away completely exhausted and relieved.  And while I could talk at length about each gentleman, both of whom are God's precious children and loved by their mamas, I will instead focus on my performance.

Over the last few years, I think I have had nearly 30 blind dates. (How can this be my life!?) And in those nearly 30 awkward/awesome/nauseous encounters, I have learned a few things on how to prepare for the best possible outcome, if that even exists:

1. Shoot for having zero expectations. And when I say "zero," what I am really saying is try to have negative expectations. Sometimes, all I hope for is that he is breathing and buys my coffee. And even  that can totally backfire. I have found that the less Facebook stalking I do, the better. Facebook can totally skew your hopes, desires and dreams for your first date experience.

2. Wear what makes you feel amazing. Let's face it, you are already at a deficit when you head into a blind date. They may or may not know what you look like, therefore they may or may not be expecting Amanda Kerr to walk through the door. And while I can strut with the best of them, I like to eat. So, to counter-balance this, we have to feel amazing in who we are and that can be greatly highlighted by loving what we have on. Wear your best jeans, your favorite shirt, all of the things that make you feel good. And as tempting as it may be to show up in either a.) your prom dress or b.) your sweatpants, don't. Just don't.


3. Don't talk about tigers unless you train them or have been mauled by them. Then, BY ALL MEANS, talk away because you have earned it.

4. Have an "out." I say this not to be rude but to protect your sanity. There comes a time in every date when you are not sure if you should keep going or call it a day. Even if it is an amazing date, there needs to be an end time just to give you time to process every single word and facial expression so you can then call 10 of your best friends to analyze it together. I always have something planned approximately 1.5-2 hours after the date starts. This keeps things short and sweet but still with enough time to determine if you would like to see him again...or never, ever again. Whichever.

5. Always carry cash with you. Even though your deepest desire is that he will graciously buy whatever it is you are ordering, this sometimes doesn't happen. And there is nothing more exhilarating than to show some random idiot with bad manners that you are fully capable of buying your own cup of coffee, thank you very much.

6. If you are having a meal, do not order the following: spaghetti, BBQ, big hamburgers or anything else that falls apart easily. It is really hard to be sexy with sauce all over your face.

7. Somehow, find a way to talk normally. I consistenly amaze myself at how awkward I sound and I communicate for a living! Sometimes I even give myself a pep-talk before hand: "It's just talking, Sarah. You've been doing it your whole life. Don't fixate on the weather. Don't get all twangy. And please don't ever let the words 'I sleep with a breathing machine' ever come out of your mouth." It's tough love, but very necessary.

8. Don't take it personally if he does not call you back. Sure, it does reflect the lack of chemistry/attraction to each other but it doesn't change you who are as a person. It just means that there is one less guy in the world that you have to consider in your life plan. It is a weeding-out process. It has taken me a while to learn this but it can make or break your future dating experiences.

9. Try not to say no to a blind date, especially if one of your friends is setting you up. They love you and they want you to be happy. The only reason you can say no is if you have already gone on a blind date with the guy or if you are bleeding. You never know just how great the next date can be.

10. Dating is a freaking freak show. How two people ever meet and fall in love is a TOTAL MIRACLE FROM HEAVEN ABOVE, FOREVER AND AMEN.

Best of luck to you.

The New Year Work-Out Groove

Well you guys have done it again. You made me feel adored and celebrated on my birthday, all 34 years of me. You're super great, yes you are. Thank you.

Just so you know, I plan on celebrating all month, it's just how I like to do things. I have the rodeo this weekend, a fabulous little getaway next week, my dad's visit the weekend after and of course, the end-of-your-birthday-month cake.

Don't you guys do that? Have another cake at the end of your birthday month?

You should. It is exactly what you need. Unless your birthday falls at the end of the month and then having two cakes would just be ridiculous.

Speaking of cakes, I have found some horrible awesome new work-outs. I absolutely love/hate them which means they are doing exactly what I want them to do: Kill me then put me back together with less cushioning.

Actually, they are pretty great. Don't let my whining scare you. They only take 10 minutes to do. I do 30 minutes of hard cardio and then one of these every day (with a day off each week). I am not saying that I have dropped a size or anything, especially when there is cake involved, but I will say that I feel great. Like, I can now lift things over my head and run around the block without getting winded, great.

And, they only take 10 MINUTES. That's not even 1/4 of a Netflix show. And since I can power through a Netflix series like a day after Christmas sale at Target, I should be able to live through 10 minutes of muscle confusion and heart palpitations.

In a very weird, sick way, I think I am addicted to them.

(I KNOW!)

(Help me.)

So, this is for your lower half:

 

And for your amazing upper half, give this a try:

If you try them out, let me know what you think.

That is, if you can lift your arms to type it out to me.

Oh, I kid.

Sort of.

 

Dear Me at 33

Dear Me,
You survived 33.

You have more wrinkles. And your gray hairs now require more than just tweezers. You can't stay up late like you used to and the thought of having a night at home in your PJ's is almost equal to a night away dancing.

Almost.

You have battle scars from this year. It beat you up a little. It made you fight to be more of who you are. It made you grieve over things not yet happened, over too many things that went awry and it made you long for the the Home in which you were created.

You learned how to make the salted caramel sauce that has completely revolutionized your life.

You de-cluttered, simplified, and ate a lot of quinoa. You lost weight, gained weight and then lost it again (almost).

You had some unbelievably great cooking classes, completely void of food poisoning, house fires or blood. You realized that food is more than just something to eat, it a vehicle for friendship, comfort, culture and love.

You went on a few horrendous dates.  And then you had a few really good ones. They almost balance out except for the guy who looked like serial killer.

You now have to sleep with an oxygen machine. It is zero percent sexy.

You had to release a few of your dreams and plans. This was the hardest part of your year as you wrestled and waited and wrestled some more. God brought you to a place of heartache and then you (eventually) allowed Him to help you rebuild something new and better.

You have been blown away by high school students who know more about the Bible than you do.

Your car is still running. That will always be a highlight to any year.

You spent three days on the beach by yourself and it was exactly what you needed...especially when the Navy SEALS ran by.

Your friendships grew deeper, richer, became more valuable. You saw God work through people who then worked through you.

You cried over a boy. I hate when that happens, but you did. And he wasn't worth it.

You spent an entire day with your nephew and you found yourself completely in awe of who he is becoming: one part child, one part young man.

You became a bigger fan of your dad, more amazed at your mom, a more obnoxious cheerleader of your siblings and a better friend to yourself.

You survived year 33, but let's conquer 34. You are more than a conqueror in Him.


With great anticipation,
You

Some Perspective

Hello, my friends. Feliz Navidad to you!

It's next week, by the way. Christmas. Like eight days away or something.

 

Whatever. That's nuts.

Anyhow, thanks for hanging with me during this absence. I do not have a good reason for being away other than being the busiest person ever in the history of forever. Probably similar to you right now.

Oh, and I am trying to get used to sleeping with a ginormous Darth Vader helmet strapped to my face. The good news is that I am breathing through the night. The bad news is that I look like roadkill when I wake up because of all the crease marks on my face.

(You be the judge on what really is the pro and the con in that situation.)

So I want to talk to you today about perspective. I have been mulling this over lately. This usually happens around this time of year, probably because of the new year quickly approaching and my birthday which quickly follows. I tend to get a little introspective when I know that I am aging.

Last week, I studied about John the Baptist in Matthew 11. He was in prison and so he sent his groupies to find Jesus to ask Him directly if He really was the Messiah. Now, if you flip back a few chapters, you see that John was directly involved in Jesus' baptism, with God's voice and the dove and the blaring confirmation that Jesus was the long-awaited King.

However, during his time away from Jesus, while he was a political pawn in Herod's court, John had begun to doubt. Was Jesus really Jesus? Had I missed something or done something wrong? Was He doing what so many prophesied that He would?

I understand those doubts. The further away I get from Jesus, the louder they become. Am I being effective at all? Does Jesus really have a plan for my life? What the heck is He doing?

Instead of wallowing or talking to friends, John went directly to the source: Are you really who you say you are?

And Jesus said: yes.

You see, my perspective gets all out of whack sometimes. Take the mountains, for instance. When they are far away, they just look like one, long line of hills. But the closer you get, the more you see the peaks, the valleys and the layers. The layers of time and people and events.

Jesus doesn't work in one, long line. He works in and among and throughout.

That is what Jesus was doing while John was imprisoned. He came to this earth to accomplish our redemption but that wasn't all He was going to do. He was and is going to come back. What John thought was just one big event in time, Jesus has a second act to come.

So when I think He isn't working or doing what I thought He would do, He says, "Come closer. I am weaving and layering and connecting all that I see and do together. I am setting the stage. I am exactly who I say I Am, even if I don't look like what you thought I would."

Oh, sweet Savior. If I only didn't freak out every time my life takes a turn that is unexpected. If I only clung to the closeness of Jesus instead of trying to squeeze Him into my teeny, tiny timeline. And Christmas isn't just about one single event in history; rather it was His fleshly introduction to us. He has been working all along.

Perspective has become my word for this season. It is the thrill of hope as a weary world rejoices.

(I bet you didn't think I would bring on the heavy after a few weeks away. You're welcome.)

The Sleep Lab

Last night was my night at the sleep lab. It is a strange place where people watch you sleep and count how many times you turn and check to make sure you are breathing.

I guess that last one is a good thing.

Thankfully, my sleep technician was a great guy named Eric who hails from Peru where he was trained and practiced as a medical doctor. However, since it would take a lot of work and money to get certified in the US, he now helps people sleep better. And for that I am very thankful.

(He has also climbed Machu Pichu five times, which, although fascinating, is not critical for this story.)

Also, he told me that if I ever needed anything in the night that all I had to do is turn on my light and clap three times and he would come running. In my mind, all I could think about was the crazy old woman who used The Clapper before she went to bed. Do you remember this?



(That is an extremely awkward video. God bless 1989.)

Now, I am not going to lie to you: it was not the best sleep of my life. Nope. I had ten electrodes taped to my head, two on my chest, two on my legs and a pulse/ox thing on my finger. And then, at 2:00 a.m., Eric came in to tell me that I needed to strap the breathing mask to my face because apparently I forget to breathe sometimes.

Here I am pre-breathing mask:

 

(Obviously an Instagram filter was needed.)

(The guys are already lining up outside of my door.)

The second half of my night's sleep was noticeably different from the first half. For one, I had a constant flow of air forcing itself into my lungs. While that may seem uncomfortable, it was actually rather peaceful, like someone or something was taking over for a while and all I needed to do was rest.

(I am pretty sure there is a Biblical principle in that somewhere.)

Secondly, whenever I took a deep breath, my toes and fingers would tingle. Granted, that may mean I have an unexplained health condition, but to me, it signified the fact that my extremities were finally getting the oxygen they needed.

At 6:20, Eric came in to wake me up and told me I slept like a soldier, hardly moving at all. I think subconsciously I was afraid I would strangle myself with the wires. It was a legitimate concern. By 6:45, I was de-wired and had unofficially (from a technician) yet officially (from a Peruvian doctor) been told that I am going to need a machine to help me sleep at night...for the rest of my days.

Oy.

However, I am choosing to see the positive in this: people pay big money to go to oxygen bars so they look refreshed and rejuvenated. I will have that for 8 hours a night, every night. It's how I roll now.

Plus, my heart will be healthier, I will have more energy, my metabolism will rev up (can I get a gigantic HALLELUJAH for this one?) and I will have my Halloween costume ready to go: Darth Vader's mother.

Sleeping Baggage

For most of my adult life, I have been tired. And not just the stay-up-too-late-watching-the-Walking Dead-on-Netflix kind of sleepy. I mean, no matter how much I sleep, I am always tired.

Worn out.
Weary.
Exhausted.
And I don't even have children.

I have tried many things to remedy this:
Go to bed earlier
Go to bed later
Avoid eating before bed
Eat before bed
Avoid caffeine after lunch
Exercises regularly
Drink more water
Ambien

The last one could be my favorite but it also comes with consequences.

Finally, in September, I went to the doctor. I told him about my sleepiness and my sometimes weird heartbeats and my healthy eating and exercise regimen that has resulted in absolutely nothing except a bitterness towards spinach, and then he said the words I didn't want to hear: "Sarah, I think you have sleep apnea."

I just looked at him and said, "I thought only old men got that." (Aren't you glad I am not in the health care profession?)

And then he said it is very common among all age groups and is most likely a genetic condition that causes my airway to be too small when I sleep at night. So he ordered an in-home sleep test and the results came back fairly conclusive that I do indeed have sleep apnea.

It's like the most awesome thing that has ever happened to me except not at all and I am lying.

However, they need more data. So, they have prescribed me a night's stay in a sleep lab where I will tuck myself into a big bed, hook myself up to approximately 1 billion electrodes and try to sleep while a plethora of people watch me.

And it is happening on Tuesday.

If the results come back conclusive, then I will need a CPAP machine for the rest of my life. Being both a girl and single, this admittedly deflates my spirit. I find myself so desperately wanting to sleep better (and for my heart to be healthier, my metabolism to be faster...) but not wanting the literal baggage that comes with it. I already wear a mouthguard, but a ginormous machine that straps to my face and forces me to breathe?

I might as well just get dentures and nightgown and call it a night.

Dear Future Husband, it looks like I'll need to sleep near the closest electrical plug-in.

In the meantime, I will give you a full report of my night away, all hooked up and monitored. Somehow they will make sleeping a spectator sport. I wonder if they will serve popcorn or something. That would totally make it better.

Secretly an "It" Girl

I secretly desire to be an "it" girl. I really don't know what that means exactly, but I basically just want the "it" girl wardrobe.

"It" girls come and go and most of the time I have no idea who they are or how their great-grand parents made all of their billions of dollars. But my favorite one at the moment is Olivia Palermo. I don't even know what she does. I mean, does she have a job? Is her dad famous? Did she cure cancer?

I really have no clue.

But all I do know is that she walks around New York City on the regular wearing the most amazing clothes of all time, ever.

Maybe that is her job, walking around looking fabulous.

I could totally do that.

Please, let me do that.

Here are some of her recent wardrobe choices:

 

I am always in favor of animal print. The shoes have the potential to be a health hazard but I am willing to give them a go for the sake of fashion.

 

 

Casual? Check.

Awesome? Check.

Affordable? Knock-offs at TJMaxx are calling my name.

 

I have no idea where I would actually wear this but it just looks deliciously comfortable, like an elegant version of the yoga pant.

 

I am crazy about laser-cut clothing. I am currently wearing a t-shirt from Target that cost exactly 1/100,000 of what this outfit cost.

 

Oh, and I would need some self-tanner. Pronto.

 



 

I am in love with the red-heeled boots and the jacket. Now all I need are cobble stone streets, the tights, blouse, skirt and everything else and I could totally rock this outfit.

 

 

 

Granted, not all of them are practical, for let's say, a trip to King Soopers, but I sure would look great buying butter.

 

Slot # 2

I have entered into a wonderful season of contentment. It's not that my life is perfect, (Um, hello Alamosa), but my heart has moved into that sweet spot between peace and comfort.

I have my own schedule, I can sleep in late, I can eat cereal for dinner, I can lay horizontally in bed, the bathroom is all mine, I can travel anytime my budget permits and I get to bake with people for fun. It's a pretty good gig.

However, I still have my moments of wondering what the heck I am supposed to do with my life. Should I move to a new state? What is God asking me to do today/this week/this month/forever? Should I go back to school? How can I be more loving in my relationships? Why did I buy this shirt? And the ever popular: Will I ever get married?

Now, that last one is a combo deal: sometimes I question this all on my own and wonder if God has destined me to be fabulously single forever. Other times, the world puts this crazy amount of pressure on me to be hitched, or at least dating, or AT LEAST trying to find someone online.

I did that. It was not my favorite.

This is the one question that I seem to get from every angle.

Yesterday, as I was driving, I had a brief moment of "GOD! Where are you? I am still here! And I would really love to do this life with someone who is somewhat normal and extremely handsome."

Perhaps you have had similar conversations? No? Awesome.

Anyway, that moment passed, contentment settled back into its place and I went on my way.

And then last night happened. I have bible study on Monday nights and as I walked into the church, one of the administrators asked me from across the room:

"Hey Sarah. Do you want a husband?"

Um, what?

"What did you say?"

"I mean, would you like to get married? Do you want a husband?"

Trying to play it cool just in case she wanted to set me up with her crazy cousin or something, I said, "Well, I had always considered that part of my life plan."

"Okay good. You are now on my list. In fact, you have moved into slot #2. I am praying for your husband."

And just like that, God reminded me that He indeed had not forgotten. I am now slot #2.

Like The Ugly Version of Gollum

Do you know that scene in Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (NERD ALERT!) when Bilbo Baggins sees his precious ring again and momentarily turns into a wicked creature who looks like the ugly version of Gollum with heinous teeth and dead eyes?

Well, that happened to me yesterday.

All of a sudden, I turned into a creature that was horrible to be around and scary to look at. I could literally feel the change and the ugliness and the struggle.

Has that ever happened to you?

I don't know what it was. It could have been hormones, those nasty little things.

It could have been low-blood sugar, but since I have never experienced that a day in my life, I highly doubt that was it.

Or it could have been that slimy snake we call Satan, stirring up something in my mind and causing me angst and discontentment. And if Satan can't win my soul, he can certainly try to make me unsatisfied with my God.

So, I went for a walk. A long walk, by myself. I even put in my ear buds without turning on any music just so I could drown out the world and listen for Him.

And do you know what I heard? I heard:

I know, Sarah.

I know the heaviness on your heart. I know what it is like to live in this world. I know how hard it is to fight for the good things, the holy things, the things that last and to turn away the things that destroy. I know what it is like to feel disconnected. And I know what it means to fight Satan head-on.

But guess what?

I beat him.

I beat him and will continue to do so. And even when you are discontent, know that I am bigger, stronger, wiser. And next time you feel like the ugly version of yourself, I will still be here, waiting, loving, fighting.

...

And by the end of my walk, Gollum had vanished, leaving me with a quiet heart...and better teeth.

Recipe Round-Up: Bacon and Green Chile Corn Bread Muffins

You have probably heard me say this before, but I am a summer girl. I love everything about it, from the watermelon to flip flops and the endless possibilities that come from a few more hours of daylight. It is the most magical of seasons, which is why I usually do not want to let it go.

 

 

 

 

 

However, if there is one thing that will help me embrace the cooler temps and changing colors, it is comfort food. Chicken pot pie, big bowls of chili, pumpkin bread and apple pie. Yes, I'll take all of it, in that order.

 

 

 

On Sunday, during a very rainy day and a very full house, I made these muffins to go with chili. If you are in the mood for something warm and delightful, with a hint of spice and the amazing flavor of bacon, I encourage you to whip these up the next time you need a boost. They do not disappoint.

 

(And hopefully your phone will survive the process.)

 



They are super simple to throw together. And do you know what is the best part: they can easily be gluten free! In fact, this batch was made with gluten-free flour so my sweet little darling baby sister could partake. All you have to do is substitute all-purpose flour with all-purpose gluten free flour.

 

TA-DA! Just that simple.

 

So, let's do this.

 

First off, fry some bacon.

 

(I personally think every recipe should start off this way.)



 

 

 

 Once the bacon is fried, set it aside and combine corn meal, flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, milk, egg and oil.

 

Stir.

 

 

 

Next up, add your fried bacon, a can of green chiles, mix and pour into a muffin tin.

 

See? Easy!

 

Now bake.

 

 

 

Your finished product is a savory bite of supreme deliciousness. I mean, it has BACON in it, how can it not be good?! And both the regular and gluten-free varieties turn out soft and chewy, with just a subtle bite from the corn meal.

 

 

 

 

Put a little butter on those suckers and watch it melt into the nooks and crannies. Eat one or two (or ten) and get ready for nap time because it is going to happen!

 

 

Bacon and Green Chile Corn Bread Muffins:

1 cup corn meal

1 cup all-purpose flour (substitute gluten-free all-purpose flour for gluten-free muffins)

3 tablespoons sugar

4 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 egg

1 cup milk

1/4 cup oil

4 slices bacon, cut into pieces, fried and drained

4 oz can of chopped green chiles

 

Directions:

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Spray muffin tin with cooking spray. Cut and fry bacon in pan and drain on a paper towel. Set aside. In a mixing bowl, combine corn meal, flour, sugar, baking powder and salt. Mix to combine. Add egg, milk and oil and stir. Add bacon and green chiles and mix together. (The mixture will be a little runny, but don't worry!) Fill muffin wells 2/3 full. Bake in oven for 15-18 minutes. Makes 12 scrumptious muffins.

 

Dig in!
  



And Then My Phone Fell into the Cornbread Batter

Thanks for the blog love, peeps. You made my weekend! Let's just hope I can try to act as normal as possible to all the new readers. But I am pretty sure this post will do the exact opposite of just that.

You see, I was making you all a recipe yesterday. It was a new recipe, full of bacon, which really is the only kind of recipe you should make: Bacon and Green Chile Cornbread Muffins.

And yes, they were magical. Especially with chili and football.

Just as I had added the egg to the batter, and while I was deftly taking a picture of me gracefully pouring the milk into the bowl, my phone slipped from my hands and fell in. Right in. As in it fell right into the cornbread batter.

People. All I could say was "oh no" over and over again. My nephew Noah, who was carefully watching my every move, thought it was perhaps the most awesome thing he had seen that day. And he had already shot my leg with a Nerf dart as I attempted to Karate Kid him in the kitchen. So, needless to say, he had already seen some form of awesome from his favorite aunt.

But that is not the worst part.
The worst part is that my phone is ghetto. GHETTO. You see, last year, after this really horrendous blind date (you can read about it here), I dropped my phone in the parking lot and the screen cracked in a million places.

However, I am cheap frugal and have waited and waited to buy a new phone. Hey, this one still worked, even if I did miss every fourth word in my emails.

But, when you combine cornbread batter with a severely cracked phone you end up with a hot mess that sticks to your face and makes you smell like a farm truck. As I told my coworker about this mishap this morning, she let me borrow her phone to take a picture of it.

Behold:

As you can see, cornmeal batter has found its way into every possible surface on my phone. It is in my speakers, my battery/re-charge portal, the cracks on the screen, under my phone case and in the ear bud hole.

Miraculously, the phone is still working. In fact, it didn't skip a beat, which is both tragic and budget-friendly at the same time. I just wiped it off with a wet paper towel and kept on cooking. I thought about washing it off and putting it in rice, but I thought that adding rice to the mix would make me smell like Thanksgiving. Cornmeal batter was plenty.

It reminds me of these commercials on TV:

So, in the future, if you see me talking on my phone and cornmeal falls from my ear, please just realize it came from my phone and not my actual head.

Because really, that would be ridiculous.

If I Had a Rain Day

For those of you who do not live in Colorado, we are experiencing a bit of rain. It has been raining almost non-stop since Tuesday and it should continue through at least Friday evening.

Snow? Piece of cake.

Rain? Mass chaos.

We don't really know what to do with all of this water because we live in a high desert climate.

(I almost wrote "dessert climate.")

(Of course I did.)

Rain always makes me want to stay home. I have hit the snooze button more in the last week than I have in a month. There is just something about the water running down your window pane to make you think, "Nope, not gonna happen today."

(If I lived in Seattle, I would be paralyzed with lack of motivation.)

So, if I had a Rain Day, and got to stay home with a totally free schedule, these are the things I would do:

1. Sleep. Yes ma'am. I would sleep until I couldn't possibly sleep anymore then I would move down to the couch where I would rest from all of the sleeping.

2. Bake. Oh, friends. The things I would bake! Some of them include my favorite Warm Apple Cake and Caramel Sauce. Perhaps the Pumpkin Cupcakes, and of course, Pumpkin Dark Chocolate Chip Cookies. Then, I would tackle something new, like doughnuts. Oh, and I'd have a full pot of coffee available the entire time.

3. Read. I read the first two books in the "Divergent" series during my little beach getaway and I loved them. I can't wait for the next one to come out in October. So, if this rain day comes in October, that would be first on my list. I also need to catch up on some of my Joel C. Rosenberg, especially with all that is going on in Syria. And, I would probably read a cookbook because those feed my soul with inspiration.

4. Organize. It takes me a little while to get in the organizing mood, but it needs to happen. I have a year's worth of Bible study that needs to be sorted and filed, I have old clothes that need to be donated, budgets that need to be updated and ridiculous other things that are essential to me being able to function.

5. Invite a few friends/sisters/cousins over. They must wear stretchy pants. They must come hungry. And they must bring their favorite movie. Oh, and bring their own spoon for cookie dough.

(SIDE NOTE: The words "sweat," "exercise," or "muscle confusion" did not appear anywhere in my list. Let's just be clear.)

So, what would you do on a Rain Day?

The Sea

I spent six days by the sea.

I freckled. I rested. I counted the waves.

I ate ice cream for dinner.

This long-awaited retreat, a removal from things that have gradually weighed me down, was spent right here, right in this sand.
 

 

 

 

The sea is a place where one goes to wash off the old, the tired, the burdened and replace it with the fresh, the new and the carried.

 



 

 

I could live here, in all of its sandy, salty glory. I could settle in and call this home.

 

It is a magical place, where the sand meets the sea. 

 

God knew we needed a lot of it.

The Solo Trip

Due to a variety of factors, I believe I am in the midst of a one-third-life crisis. I am not sure there is such a thing but let's just pretend it is totally real and legit.

You see, I feel completely out of sorts, like I am walking around with my clothes on backwards. Do you ever feel that way? No matter how hard I have tried this summer, nothing has felt quite right.

For starters, the weather is bonkers. Apparently the weather affects me more than I realized, especially since summer is my most favorite season. It is cool and rainy and not at all what I would call normal for August. I don't want Fall to arrive without experiencing some major heat because we all know that winter lasts approximately 17 years in Colorado.

Secondly, my heart, soul and mind cannot quite sync up. One or two of them may be on the same page but it is very rare that all three match up and settle into contentment. This leaves me a bit restless, weary, and dare I say, moody.

Lastly, I am wrestling through the process of letting go of what I thought life would look like at 33 and embracing something new and foreign. But the hard part is that I don't know what the new part looks like. I have never been 33 before yet somehow there is pressure to do it beautifully. What the heck, world?

Oh, and if there were a P.S. to this list, it would be that waiting takes a lot of work. Waiting is not a passive pastime. It takes constant effort to not give into apathy, eat chocolate chips and melt into your couch.

So, now that I have brought you all into a mild state of depression, let me tell you what I have decided to do to help me through this angst-ridden, cranky state: I am taking a vacation all by myself.

SAY WHAT?

Yep, that's right. In the near future, I am hopping on a plane and flying to the ocean where I will lay on the beach and pour out my heart and soul to Someone who knew how to do 33 perfectly. I have no agenda. I am packing light. I am anticipating moments of struggle and discomfort but I am prepared to face them head on, without using Netflix as my way to escape.

I am not expecting to come back a different person. I am just expecting to see things differently. 

Recently, I have had several friends who have taken solo trips and they each came back refreshed and encouraged. I see this as a chance for me to be brave. I am very rarely brave, but apparently a plane ticket and some spending money are great motivators to helping me find my courage.

When I was in graduate school, this was the verse that I clung to, knowing that my degree would take me to places far and wide. Today, I am claiming it again. 

"If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,

your right hand will hold me fast."

                                    Psalm 139:9-10

A Very Strong Force

If I were to take the Myers Briggs test, it would show you that I am an ENF/TJ.

If I were to take a spiritual giftings test, it would show you that my top three strengths are Leadership, Teaching and Encouragement.

If I were to take a DISC assessment, it would tell you that I am highly social and organized with very little dominant personality traits.

If I were to show you my report cards, test scores or trophy case, it would indicate that I can usually speak in complete sentences and am somewhat physically coordinated.

HOWEVER...

If I were to show you how well I can flirt with a cute guy who I find both charming and intelligent (a rare combination, trust me), who is gainfully employed, loves Jesus, has very impressive triceps and is completely emancipated from his mother, you would find that I am a COMPLETE AND TOTAL MORON.

Apparently, my awkwardness is a very strong force.

That's awesome.

#Hashtagsdrivemecrazy

People.

Help me out with something. For the life of me I cannot understand hashtags. Yes, I know they help you get all linked up with people and topics on Twitter, but why do people use them in non-Twitter related venues?

Like, they use them in real life. On real written documents. In real conversations with real people.

I don't get it.

Perhaps you do this. Perhaps you are one of those people who close every Facebook post or text or email with a hashtag of some sort like #tacosaremylife or #mondaysarelame. I am not judging you. Nope, I am merely saying that THEY DRIVE ME TO THE BRINK OF INSANITY.

Why can't you just spell out what you are trying to say like a normal person?  For the love of 10th grade English, let's all use proper grammar and spelling and punctuation. Makingallofyourwordsruntogetherneverhelpedanyone.

#AmIright?

And why is it a hashtag? Who declared the pound sign/number sign to be the universal symbol for throwing the much-needed space between words out of the window? Is that what our society has become now, a bunch of punctuation-hating technology lovers who don't care if the next generation knows how to write a sentence?

Can you imagine if Shakespeare lived during this time? #ohromeoohromeowhereforarthouromeo would become increasingly more difficult to read. And none of us need that, his stuff is already a Mensa challenge.

Or, you know, the Bible. If Moses thought the hashtag was appropriate, I am pretty sure #inthebeginninggodcreatedtheheavensandtheearth would lose a little of its punch, don't you think?

Look, all I am saying is that I think we should keep the hashtag in its proper place and not in everyday life where the rest of us are trying to read your ridiculous sentences. I just think the world would be a better place that way.

#okayI'mdone.

#thanksforlettingmegetthatoutthere.

#ihopeyouhaveareallygreatday.

#spellcheckisnotgoingtolikeme.

#isthisdrivingyoucrazybecauseitisdrivingmecrazy.

#ineedabagel.

Five Things

I have this new blogger friend. She found me on Facebook on my Gourmet Girl to Go page and invited me to participate in a "Five Things" question series. I agreed right away because 1.) I need blogging material and 2.) I cannot say no to new friends.

Her name is Kris and you can find her blog here. I am a big fan already.

So, without further ado, here is a snapshot in time, or, in other words, a ton of information you have never wanted to know about me. Just think of it as my contribution to helping you get through hump day.

(Which, by the way, I am LOVING this commercial:



Totally brilliant.)

Okay, now without further ado, here it is:

Five Things I am Passionate About:
1. A simple life. My mind is often so cluttered with stuff that I forget to live well. So simplifying is my theme right now. And I love it.

2. Food. I love food. I love growing it, eating it, cooking it, baking it, sharing it and preparing it for anyone who will eat it. It is my love language and my spiritual gifting, if that were a real thing.

3. My family. They are a crazy bunch of people, but they are my people.

4. My friends. I have amazing, incredible friends. Holy cow, who knew I was I cool enough to have friends like that?

5. Jesus. Amen.

Five Things I Would Like To Do Before I Die:
1. Get married. I practically have it planned out on Pinterest anyway and I would hate for that board to go to waste. But in all honesty, I am one of those girls who has thought about her wedding since she was little and I would love to experience it with the right person.

2. Hike Machu Pichu. I know many of you must be shocked over the word "hike" but that is one hike I would gladly tackle.

3. Own another horse. I was 12 years old the first time I got a horse and I would love to see how I would handle it now. Besides, they smell really, really good.

4. Take a week-long cooking class in Europe. Italy, France, Spain, Ireland, any of those countries will do. I want my entire week to be covered in sugar and flour. And chocolate. And maybe some cheese. I don't think that is too much to ask, do you?

5. Memorize large sections of the Bible. Isaiah 40, the entire book of James, 1 John and any of the psalms are on my list. I am horrendous at memorization unless it is put to a song. So I guess this is fair warning if I ever sing verses at you. Don't be alarmed, I'll try to jazz it up a little.

Five Things I Say A Lot:
1. It's not my yard.
2. I could stick my entire head into this bowl.
3. Salted caramel is my love language
4. Seriously.
5. I'm over it.

Five Books/Magazines I Have Read Lately:
1. Country Living Magazine. Naturally.
2. The Harbinger. This was a few months ago but it was a quick and intense read.
3. Treasure Island. It has been over 20 years since I last read that book and it was totally different than what I remembered. It's funny how that happens.
4. The Spirituality of Fundraising (Henri Nouwen). I re-read this all the time because it is essential to my job. It's good stuff.
5. Joy the Baker's Cookbook. I love her, her writing style and her recipes. I highly recommend following her blog!

Five Favorite Movies:
1. The Goonies
2. Pride and Prejudice
3. Braveheart
4. Lord of the Rings
5. Strictly Ballroom

Five Places I Would Like to Visit:
1. New Zealand.
2. Peru
3. Greece
4. Egypt
5. Montana

Now, I am supposed to invite five other people to participate but I am kind of lame and don't know many bloggers. So, if you would like to tackle this list, go for it and just let me know! I'll link you up.

Oh, and happy Wednesday, people of the world wide web.

Six Months In

So, today is my half-birthday! I realize I may be alone in the celebration of this. It's not like Hallmark has half-birthday cards. But they totally should.

When I was young, my grandma and my mom would make a cake and serve half of it with half a candle. It is one of my favorite memories and needs to become a tradition because it means we have survived six more months, and sometimes that is a miracle in itself.

I also love this day because it is the birth date I wish I had. You see, summer represents all things wonderful and happy and magical and winter is like a vast wasteland of coldness and death. What can you do in January? Ice skate (um, hello broken elbow!) and freeze. But in July, the sky is the limit! Plus, the daylight is around for nearly six extra hours!

Feel free to join my half-birthday pity party.

However, this day also makes me think of all the things I did not do the first half of this year. It is a mile marker of sorts, helping me gauge my productivity, or lack thereof. But it is also a wonderful motivator and confidence-builder because you realize you actually contribute to society sometimes.

First off, here are a few of the items I have either accomplished, experienced or navigated. Stand back.

1. I started my own business. I have two cooking classes this week so let's pray for safety for all involved.

2. I survived the month of June at work. I am now taking naps under my desk.

3. I have yet to break a bone or sprain a muscle. Amen and amen.

4. I have begun taking the extra fluff out of my life, namely the news and blow drying my hair. Those two things really save so much time.


However, I still have a few things I would like to do in the next six months:

1. Visit a new country. This is a goal every year. Anyone up for Greece? Norway? Peru?

2. See more of my cousins. I miss each one of them, all 46,720.

3. Find a new hobby. I am thinking fly fishing or ballroom dancing. Or both. Or not at all. I really don't know.

4. Fall in love. People do it all the time, or so I hear. And I am really great at it.

5. Rediscover joy. I seem to have lost some of mine and I would like it back. It's a tricky thing, that joy.

6. Run a 5K. Oh, did I just type that? That must have been a mistake. I am so funny.

7. Take a cooking class in something I have never tried before, like French pastry or sushi.

8. Be more kind, generous and patient. It should just happen.

9. Be unbelievably brave and courageous. It is hard to plan for this one but I want to be if the situation arises.

10. Save up now for Christmas presents instead of paying it off in January. You would think I would have this down by now but somehow December 25 always sneaks up on me!

And a bonus goal...

11. Eat more watermelon. It is freaking delicious.

So, I have my work cut out for me. I have learned that I need goals in my life otherwise I wither into a pile of nothing who only watches Hulu and eats yogurt. It's not pretty, trust me. These will hopefully keep me on track to actually living life instead of watching it. Sometimes I need these little reminders, these little motivators to get me out of a rut and into a groove.

Bring it on, second half!