just asking...

What do you eat for Christmas morning? I need some ideas. Some really, really good ideas.

Christmas eve is covered. But I've never needed a morning plan.

And this year, Santa's coming to my house. And he's got to bring the eats for the in-laws.

So give me ideas and help get me to work.

Photo via Beverly & Pack

calm and opaque.

Damn you GRE. You have pushed me over the edge and into the edifice known as carbs. Laughing as I grovel and swell amidst the homemade rolls, chocolate dipped pretzels, and lemon squares that have become my sustenance.

Obsessing over numbers and words has turned into an obsession over sprinkles and yeast. And Clin says that I can't help myself now. Failing practice test over practice test three days before the exam is not going to improve my score.

But that would be giving up.

And Dear Amanda,

you delivered emollient to my soul in the form of John Denver, the Muppets, and a big jar 'o' fudge. Kermit provided a moment of peace. And I am now washing it down with a few chugs of chocolate directly from the mason jar.

my own club...

Um, so I don't have time right now to be in a book club. And I'm not supposed to be reading anything except my GRE book. But I cheated and read this:

and I liked it. A lot.

But you may not. Say, if you're my mom. Or my grandma. You won't like it.

Because this will not be the book club selection of choice in my Utah clubbing circles. (if I had them. circles. or clubs. I mean.)

So this post is my own personal book club. With myself.

The honesty was refreshing. I mean the honesty from a Mormon was refreshing. Mormon's are very honest people. I'm not saying that they aren't. But when it comes to personal thoughts and feelings, we're not all that open. or honest.

And the author, herself, admits openly lying to people as she shares her experiences. So she isn't completely honest either. But she admits things that most Mormons wouldn't. Like....um....well things that I wouldn't admit.

I mean I can't even admit questioning my personal faith without feeling guilty.

But reading her experiences was freeing in the sense that I have always been so anxious about doing things wrong. Upsetting people, authority figures, and God. Like in high school, being tardy to class was anxiety invoking for me. So I began to look at it in the opposite light, I acted like I didn't care about being tardy. I would slow down everything. Walking, socializing, putting things in my backpack. And then if I was tardy, so be it. But it took one extra anxiety producing thought out of my mix. And just doing that calmed me down.

I never doubted, only believed what I was told. Smoking was bad? I shouldn't hang out with other people who smoke. I lost some friends that way. Same for drinking. That was the black and white of my world.

And now I question. I don't believe some of what I used to believe. And I wish that it was okay to talk bout it. To address it. Without feeling judged.

I'm not there yet. But Elna is. And I enjoyed reading about it.

a partridge in a pear tree...

10 final papers to grade,

5 more days to study for the GRE,

3 more days until 14 finals are submitted followed by,

2 more days to grade said finals,

1 CV to update,

and 1 application essay due!

In the midst of all of this, I am pining for John Denver and the Muppets. The only Christmas CD lost to the move.

But I suspect foul play....

why is that the only CD missing?

or was it hidden to torment my yuletide joy?

funded...

Remember this? Well break out the eggnog and buy myself a Cafe Rio salad because I was awarded the funding.

And now I get to spend an entire semester gathering, organizing, and molding information into a course about aging and the arts.

or

as I prefer to call it

heaven.

thinking...

...about the celebratory mood of last year. Adventing the entire month. Where and how and why did I go to there?

And I kind of miss it. But the only adventing this year is for the GRE. And I get a little giddy every time I think about it. I can't wait. Only because I want it over.

December 19

10 more days to stuff this obtuse brain of mine. (Ha! Take that verbal section. I'm throwing the vocab like a bucolic ascetic oscillating enigmatic dogma.)

And while I've been concerned about the math - last night's practice test proved that I have a few other problems.

I missed 5 out of the 10 verbal section questions. In particular - Antonyms - questions that require you to choose the opposite of a word given to you.

And I trick myself into answering incorrectly almost as often as I trick myself into the correction.

For example - let's take this little practice question (listed under easy, by the way). Okay what is the opposite of:

FRUSTRATE:

a. facilitate
b. moderate
c. climb
d. judge
e. assemble

The practice book warns to watch out for questions that are using a secondary definition of the stem word. (Frustrate is the stem here.) I was keeping that in mind when I answered this question. This. very. easy. question. Because I know what every word here means - I should have gotten it right.

I failed.

Now you try. And show me how obtuse my brain really is.

random release...

Shoveling the drive twice within 17 hours is nice inspiration. For a variety of blog posts. Only the second that one pops in my head, it leaves. For warmer weather I suppose.

Like I wanted to post about how I can't stand doing my hair right now. And I was about to write it out in my mind. But it went away. And that ended that.

Or about how Millie called our car a genious. Which it totally is. But I can't recall the circumstance, or story surrounding it.

And then this morning, before shoveling episode #2, my period started. And clarity came.

I thought - oh, I should write about this. But then realized that I always write about the beginning of my period. Why must I force my blog to be my calendar?

And that might be gross. For you. If you're reading. But it's not gross for me. (Remember: blood not gross. Stickers and long nails? Vomit inducing.) I like to talk about it. It's a huge part of who I am. Or I guess in how I act. And perhaps it is my one token form of rebellion. (Or is that the dc?)

Rebellious? How can it be rebellious? Well, when you grow up not swearing, or drinking, or sneaking out, or toilet papering, or skipping class, or whatever your token form of rebellion may be...

But sometimes you just need to shock. For shocks sake. Right? My rebellion of choice has always been complete honesty regarding my cycle. (Okay, and screaming at the parentals -- but that's another story. For a therapist.)

My brothers could share some choice experiences. Kyle in particular. But I see it more as one of my life purposes. I completely prepared them for the realities of womanhood. In fact, they probably have it much nicer now that they are warm and cozy in marriage. Because I know that the sis-in-laws are not leaving surprises in the sink.

And I'm sure the brothers are so thankful for their awesome wives. And I feel like I had a hand in that.

sharing.

Blogging? Ha! Who has time for blogging, when there is eating to be done.

I know - I'm a bit fixated right now. And part of this is cut off due to my blogger template. But I don't have time to change the template right now....I have to go make dinner.

Recipes you need:

Chocolate S'More Pie - Worth it. Really.

Gourmet Sweet Potato Classic - Like Candy. Not a marshmallow in sight.

Recipe that I need to try:

Pear Butterscotch Pie