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Pressure, Pressure,
Pressing its heavy limbs
Down, down, down
Tightness, coils so
Wound, wound, wound
Snapping, Snapping,
Breaking bones, they crash
Around, around, around.
Breathlessness, collapsing, collapsing, collapsing,
Into myself.
Bruises, scraping, scraping, scraping
Out their desired shape.
Deeper, deeper, deeper.
Narrowing this existence into a paper-thin shell.
Hallowed, hallowed, hallowed,
Nothingness. Broken.
Torn, torn, torn
Into shreds, scattered shreds.

The Wanderlust

"The Wanderlust has lured me to the seven lonely seas,
Has dumped me on the tailing-piles of dearth;
The Wanderlust has haled me from the morris chairs of ease,
Has hurled me to the ends of all the earth.
How bitterly I've cursed it, oh, the Painted Desert knows,
The wraithlike heights that hug the pallid plain,
The all-but-fluid silence, -- yet the longing grows and grows,
And I've got to glut the Wanderlust again.

Soldier, sailor, in what a plight I've been!
Tinker, tailor, oh what a sight I've seen!
And I'm hitting the trail in the morning, boys,
And you won't see my heels for dust;
For it's "all day" with you
When you answer the cue
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has got me . . . by the belly-aching fire,
By the fever and the freezing and the pain;
By the darkness that just drowns you, by the wail of home desire,
I've tried to break the spell of it -- in vain.
Life might have been a feast for me, now there are only crumbs;
In rags and tatters, beggar-wise I sit;
Yet there's no rest or peace for me, imperious it drums,
The Wanderlust, and I must follow it.

Highway, by-way, many a mile I've done;
Rare way, fair way, many a height I've won;
But I'm pulling my freight in the morning, boys,
And it's over the hills or bust;
For there's never a cure
When you list to the lure
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has taught me . . . it has whispered to my heart
Things all you stay-at-homes will never know.
The white man and the savage are but three short days apart,
Three days of cursing, crawling, doubt and woe.
Then it's down to chewing muclucs, to the water you can eat,
To fish you bolt with nose held in your hand.
When you get right down to cases, it's King's Grub that rules the races,
And the Wanderlust will help you understand.

Haunting, taunting, that is the spell of it;
Mocking, baulking, that is the hell of it;
But I'll shoulder my pack in the morning, boys,
And I'm going because I must;
For it's so-long to all
When you answer the call
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has blest me . . . in a ragged blanket curled,
I've watched the gulf of Heaven foam with stars;
I've walked with eyes wide open to the wonder of the world,
I've seen God's flood of glory burst its bars.
I've seen the gold a-blinding in the riffles of the sky,
Till I fancied me a bloated plutocrat;
But I'm freedom's happy bond-slave, and I will be till I die,
And I've got to thank the Wanderlust for that.

Wild heart, child heart, all of the world your home.
Glad heart, mad heart, what can you do but roam?
Oh, I'll beat it once more in the morning, boys,
With a pinch of tea and a crust;
For you cannot deny
When you hark to the cry
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust will claim me at the finish for its own.
I'll turn my back on men and face the Pole.
Beyond the Arctic outposts I will venture all alone;
Some Never-never Land will be my goal.
Thank God! there's none will miss me, for I've been a bird of flight;
And in my moccasins I'll take my call;
For the Wanderlust has ruled me,
And the Wanderlust has schooled me,
And I'm ready for the darkest trail of all.

Grim land, dim land, oh, how the vastness calls!
Far land, star land, oh, how the stillness falls!
For you never can tell if it's heaven or hell,
And I'm taking the trail on trust;
But I haven't a doubt
That my soul will leap out
On its Wan-der-lust."

-by Robert William Service

Dabbling in Natural Remedies, Yippeee

It's been a really long time since I've blogged something remotely serious. It's so easy to post a music video and feel moderately productive ;) But alas, I'm back and will try to be much much better at filling the internet with my non-sense.

Today I was given some pretty terrible news; because of lame insurance rules, I am on a one-year waiting period for my "pre-existing condition". I get that this is their way of avoiding paying for my doctors visits and meds, but seriously? However, rather than pouting, crying, and shouting at the far-off insurance company, I'm doing what any sensible person would do -- researching natural supplements and yoga styles that will have to suffice. I'm really quite hopeful and excited too; if I can somehow find something that can work that doesn't involve pumping my body full of junk, I'd be thrilled.

My new found herbal-remedy hobby has been quite amusing, really. When researching herbs I found this little gem: It works as a natural aid for many nasty conditions we'd like to be rid of.

Lavender oil - immune system stimulant

• Abscesses
• acne
• antibiotic
• Arthritic pain
• balding
• bed wetting
• bites [insect]
• blisters
• bruises
• burns
• chestiness [dry cough]
• chilblains
• cuts
• cystitis
• dermatitis
• earache
• eczema
• exhaustion
• headaches
• hot flushes
• insomnia
• migraines
• stiff neck
• overwork
• PMT
• burns [dry , itchy, weeping]
• sprains
• stings
• sunburn
• Throat [sore]
• tinnitus
• travel sickness with restlessness

Sounds excellent, right? But I somehow think the side effects over-weigh the potential good it can do...

• Fears of fright, meeting people, failure, stage fright
• hysteria
• hyperactivity
• impatience
• insomnia
• insecurity
• irrationality
• moodiness
• negative thinking
• worry
• overwork
• paranoia
• relaxation
• restlessness
• panic attacks
• stage fright

Oh my. I think that is one herb I'll be skipping.

Our Life, Our Love

Three Days Away

I've been a pretty horrible blogger lately. In fact, I should not even be on the computer right now. There is so much to do before 2:30 today, that it is really kind of overwhelming. The balance of doing of I have to while still resting. I guess I'll give up my dreams of lounging my the pool. But today is exciting -- the rehearsal and the bachelorette party. Wedding festivities truly begin.

I'm getting married in three days. That is such a crazy/exciting/overwhelming/butter-fly-inducing feeling. I woke of this morning with knots in my stomach from nerves. Not jitters, just excited and nervous about the closeness of my wedding. Three days -- that's so soon. All the planning, everything will be over and I can just enjoy the day. And truthfully, I am so ready for the planning to be over.

In three days I'll be a wife, married to my love. Life will go back to normal after the honeymoon. Well, a new form of normal. And hopefully I'll start blogging again.. hopefully.

Can You Stand On Your Head?

What Are You Afraid Of?

I'm too scared to sleep.

...so I'm sleep-depriving myself as much as I can...

Unfamiliarly scares me.

...but I get bored with the mundane...

I don't like telling people anything about myself.

...that's why I force myself to blog it....

Always Dreaming, Always Tired

Last night I had a dream. There were bugs covering my bed. Evil little red bugs the size of dust particles. I tried brushing them off, drowning them, and burning them. Nothing worked. My attention was suddenly diverted, however, when a duck waddled into my bedroom through the crack in the door. I have never had much experience with ducks, but in the dream it was a viscous little thing. Before I knew it, the duck had attached its bright orange beak firmly around my calf, its little teeth tickling me as they sunk into the fabric of my pants. I tried shaking the animal off, but it would not budge.

The next moment, Steve swung open the door carrying a crowbar. He fit it in between the jaws of the duck's beak, loosening its grasp enough for me to shake it off. The duck launched across the room, straight out my bedroom door, hitting the adjacent wall with a small plunk. But the duck was not done with me. he tried to waddle back in, but Steve quickly took large tongs and veered the duck into the bathroom across the hall. Thinking quickly, I turned the bathtub water on, quite possibly the best idea considering the situation. The duck happily jumped in, causing me to sigh with relief. But alas, the duck was still there. The problem was not solved, just temporarily distracted. What to do now? The duck jumped into the basket on the other side of the fictionally massive tub. This could be it. The duck was contained, all we needed to do was collect the basket without the duck escaping. Steve reached across the tub, grasping the basket's handles which quickly folded into each other, creating a handbag rather than a basket. Success! Relief!

The duck struggled within the bag, jerking from side to side. It did not want this containment, but the door was so close. Fumbling down the stairs, I quickly opened the front door for Steve to let out the duck. I stood alertly next to him, waiting to slam the door as soon as the duck crumpled onto the ground. Steve jumped back inside, I slammed the door, and the duck gave us a sour look through the window panels surrounding the door.

The duck was gone, the blood on my leg was drying, and we were safe. Until we went back to my room and the bugs swarmed around us....

This is when I woke up. My sleep is full of dreams. I dream at least four times a night. Dreaming is not restful, so sleeping is almost pointless. But yet so necessary. What causes dreams? How does my subconscious come up with these things? How do I quiet it? So many questions, but for now, I'll drink my coffee and pray for a restful night.

Oh Darling, I Wish You Were Here

I woke up this morning to an empty house, an empty cabinet, and since it was 8:30 and I have to be at work at 10:00, there's not a whole lot I can do about it. Maybe I'm not the most independent person -- I miss my sweetheart even if I have seen him the night before. I especially miss him in the morning. I know we're getting married in six weeks, but that almost makes me more impatient. And patience has never been my strong point.

I never really expected to be getting married so young, but why put off something when you know. I still get butterflies after two years. We've traveled (part of) the world together and haven't killed each other. I've never feared for my heart's safety with him -- that's love.

Maybe this is a bit overly sentimental. But love, joy, happiness, letting go of dignity and fear. These are important and should be shared. It is easy to share our heartbreak, but love is more difficult. We keep it hidden deeply within ourselves. Why is that?

Strange Habits & New Readers

Thanks to Lauren tweeting my blog, I went through the excitement/giddiness/terror of realizing people read my blog. I'll admit, I yelled across my tiny apartment in shear joy, announcing to my fiancé that I had six comments from people I wasn't related to. It was a pretty big deal.

But, I also went through the terror that I need to get my act together and start blogging again. Or rather, start blogging in general. I've never been very consistent. It's one of those things that gets pushed way way way to the back. Along with the mound of dirty dishes and piles of clean laundry. Eh, maybe I'm putting everything on the back burner now. But the point is, thank you for reading. It makes me feel spectacular when others connect to my writing.

Last night I took my fiancé to the Franklin Park Conservatory for his birthday. While getting ready, I did my usual thing of standing on one foot and hopping around until I nearly (or actually) fall over. Why, you ask? That is how I put on shoes. Last night, like most, I toppled over and hit the wall. Despite my throbbing shoulder, I stood right back up to hop around and put on the other shoe. Once my shoes were successfully on my feet, I stopped to think: why do I make things as difficult as possible on myself? A sensible person would sit down. This is how I go about a lot of things in life. I don't take the sensible route that brings peace to my life. Now my goal is to find out why...

Accepting Where I Am

When I was a little girl I had grandiose plans for myself. I was to grow up and become vastly beautiful, rich, popular, and possess every ability I thought worth having. I would be the envy of everyone, with a long line of eligible suitors, trustworthy friends, and enough fame and popularity to quench my thirst. I was to be a dancer, an artist, a poet, a model, an actress, and a musician. These thing were worthy, these things were good.

When I was thirteen, I still expected and longed for these things. Seventeen came around, and my insecure little self still waited to be showered with my desires for these frivolities. I questioned everything about myself--my worth, my abilities, my own purpose. When would people start liking me? When would I begin growing into this perfect person I naïvely set as my standard? Without these accomplishments I was miserable. I felt worthless, a shadow standing behind these expectations I created for myself. Self created loathing was my only feat.

Now I'm twenty-one. I would like the next couple paragraphs to reflect on how I have overcome all these insecurities, but that would be a lie. I have, however, grown up. I have accepted that I'm beautiful enough to have attracted the love of the amazing man I am about to marry, I am smart enough to be content, I am clever enough to amuse myself, and creative enough to create art for my home and cook meals from scratch. I'm not the best, but I'm certainly not the worst. It may sting, but this is true: there will always be someone prettier, more talented, and smarter than yourself, so learning to love where you are is pivotal. Instead of focusing on hate and jealousy of yourself and others, why not channel that to acceptance and love.

For me, I set such vastly unrealistic standards for myself, they were impossible to meet. Disappointment, hurt, and shame were unavoidable. I selfishly wanted everything, even that which I could never have. In order to be a happy and functioning adult I had to realize that limitations are part of life, and most importantly, my life is going to be different from everyone else's.

I may not be a very popular person, but that is ok. I don't have 800 friends on facebook, I only have five followers on twitter, I don't have people calling to hang out with me that much, and sadly, I only have three people following my blog (ha). But that's ok. I'm really not bothered by it. I'm happy, I'm content, and I wouldn't change my life or where I am. Am I jealous of people with lots of friends? Not really. What I am a little jealous of is the people who have a few really amazingly close friends. Friends who are more like sisters. But I these things will come in time. I'm not worried. I'm content, and accepting where I am puts a smile on my face. There are so many beautifully amazing people in this world, so instead of being jealous, I'm going to enjoy what they bring to the world.

POST EDIT:

My conclusion to everything is not to be sad and accept that I can't have these things in a self pitying way, but rather that I do not need most of them. I have my suitor, my own abilities, and my own life perfectly tailored to fit who I am. What else could I possibly need?

Healthy Obsessions

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.


"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.


`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Love

This is happiness

Warmth, Smog, and Tacos

I'm sad. I'm sad because a year ago I was in Long Beach. A year ago Stevie and I spent ten days with no responsibilities; adventure our only agenda, where the biggest decision we needed to make each day was where to eat. Sure the smog gave me a headache, the water was too freezing to even imagine touching, but it was blissfully relaxing. I mean, we went to Disneyland. What is better than Disneyland? Maybe Disney World. Or Taco Surf.

I dream about Taco Surf. I dream about eating fish tacos on the patio, a gentle breeze blowing away the smog. I wake up craving it at least once a week. It's pain and torture, and I just want a freaking taco. I also dream about the taco stand in Bellflower, with delicious meaty tacos and enough horchata to feel sick. mmmm.

I also dream about finding my next awesomely wonderful pair of boots at Buffalo Exchange. Or spending the day at the Getty only to get yelled at for standing where we're not supposed to. And going to It's a Grind everyday for tasty, fatty goodness. I even miss the smell of burning asphalt.

I'm nostalgic, and despite all the downfalls of Southern California, I miss it. The sun even shines brighter. Maybe I'd like to live there, maybe I wouldn't. But I do really, really want a taco. Chipotle just isn't the same.

Sick Days

I hate being sick. I especially hate being home alone sick. Being sick is only nice when my Stephen takes care of me. But I didn't even bother trying to convince him of that today. Getting older and gaining responsibilities means we can't really drop everything and take a sick day. Or at least he can't. He has to go to work, he has to fulfill his responsibilities, and my illness doesn't merit dropping everything to watch movie all day with me and keep an eye on my temperature.

This whole getting older thing isn't so fun sometimes.

If only I were Irish...

This year is the first year I can actually celebrate. So despite Steve having to work all day, hopefully some sort of fun can be had.

And a very happy Saint Patrick's Day to everyone!!

Dublin, How I long for You

“I left the house in bad humour and walked slowly towards the school. The air was pitilessly raw and already my heart misgave me. When I came home to dinner my uncle had not yet been home…I sat staring at the clock for some time, and when its ticking began to irritate me, I left the room”

my heart is aching

longing for Dublin

to walk down the streets

through the mist,

heavy clouds protecting its charm

taking refuge in a cozy pub,

hearty stew warms my feet,

covered by my rain-soaked jeans

an overflowing pint of Kilkenny comforts my heart

the laughter of the pub regulars calms me

so much unpretentious beauty

it embraces all those who love her

the pull of Dublin overwhelms me

I will come back to you, my love

And this is how it's done

Oh noooo

Worst feeling in the world: looking at the clock and realizing it's 8:30 p.m. and I've done nothing. The worst part is, not only did I avoid my responsibilities, I didn't even have fun doing it. I've literally done nothing.

shit.

Hello Sun, I really have missed you

(gorgeous wedding photographed by Gabriel Ryan)

The weather is beautiful. Not just beautiful, blissful. After a harsh winter, feeling warmth is a gift from heaven. Spring is amazing. Normally Ohio only has a few weeks of Spring weather before it is blistering hot. And then people start complaining about the heat instead of the cold. But now is a time for smiles and thankfulness. I think we should always try to act like it's Spring. Wouldn't life be much more pleasant?

I hope June 13th is a Spring-like day (without the rain, please and thank you Jesus). A sunny day with a gentle breeze. The type of weather where you can just sit on the grass with a cool drink and want for nothing. The kind of day where all you want to do is spin and twirl in the sunshine as it ever so slightly kisses your shoulders and face. And I love when the sun leaves its kisses.

Driving around today made me happy. Despite the traffic, I was happy. I had the windows down, felt the cool breeze, and pretended I was in L.A. Something about California makes me instantly happy. Maybe it would be different if I actually lived there, but every single visit has been glorious. I've been visiting since I was 13, and it never gets old. Sometimes I wonder if Stevie and I ever crossed paths during one of my many visits before we met. We'll never know, but it's fun to think so. A face in the crowd turning into the face I'll see every day for as long as we both shall live.

Life is good. Life is lovely. Life is perfect.

Goodnight Self, We'll Talk in the Morning

Sometimes there are songs, books, feelings, thoughts that are expressed by others far better than I ever could. Sometimes I find things that help me further understand myself. And sometimes it is refreshing to know I'm not the only one...

Searching for Entertainment

I would like to blog today, but I really have nothing interesting to say. All my time is spent either on wedding planning or homework, and occasionally working. To most people, that's rather dull. So what do I say? What is interesting? I feel incredibly productive lately, but nothing I'm doing is very permanent. I'm not going to remember much of what I've learned this quarter, and once the wedding is over all that's left will be photos and memories. Not that that's insignificant, but all the time searching for the perfect caterer, the perfect cake, the perfect paper. Who is actually going to remember those thing? I would remember them if they were awful, but not so much if it goes smoothly. Maybe that's the wrong mentality.

I guess I feel boring. Life is so exciting and there's so much to be done, but sometimes I step back and think, "I'm 21, shouldn't I be doing incredibly exciting things?" Then I realize I'm doing the most exciting things any person could. Constantly looking for something to entertain myself is destructive. Being content with myself, even if it may appear boring, what does that matter? I'd rather not be the most exciting or entertaining person. I'm ok that the first word to describe me isn't fun. And apparently I'm fun enough for people to still like me, so I think everything is going to be just fine :)

Coming Home

It's always hard to come home to every day life after a trip. It's especially hard going from being surrounded with family to mundane life and Stevie working every day. There's nothing better than eating, relaxing, and being around loved ones, especially those who I rarely see. I'm sad every time my sister goes back to Europe. And it's no different with my new family. I love being in a house full of people I love, and it's difficult leaving that. I'm happy to be marrying into such an awesome family.

In an ideal world there would be enough time and money to visit family as often as I wished. Wouldn't it be nice to have unlimited flights to Zürich and Shanghai?

It will probably be easier once Stevie and I are married. At least then we'll be coming home together. Waking up to an empty house is not exactly my favorite thing. Four months is not a very long time, and I should enjoy our time engaged. But that doesn't make me any less excited for the week of the wedding :) Everyone I love will be in town, and I'll be marrying my love. What's better than that.

My Brain is Mush

Everyone told me that wedding planning is very different when actually engaged. However, being the stubborn person I am, I never believed them. I believed I was chocked full of vision and obviously could immediately start booking, buying, and piecing together my vision. I hate to say it, but everyone was kind of right.

Not that my "vision" has turned to mush. It definitely hasn't. It's just different when I'm actually supposed to be planning this stuff. I guess I'm like that in every aspect--I hate doing what I'm supposed to do. I'll get it done. But my brain is getting soggy after spending my few engaged days looking at and deciding on this stuff. Is the table number really going to affect the wedding? In my mind, yes. Really, I think the problem Stevie and I are going to run into is, we have too much vision. We know exactly what we want, and we want some ridiculous things. But hey, I think a chandelier outside is a great idea, right? Right? We're doomed...

Bang Bang, she shot me down

Stomach in throat. Head swims. Heart pounds. Jitters, excitement, nerves. Zero concentration. No appetite. Let's conquer the world! Or at least start to. Act now! Sitting, waiting, hoping, trusting. Anxious jitters. Call back, call back!

This is the next four months :)

Blessings from God

I hate that sometimes I'm selfish and don't appreciate things more. The fact is, I have a wonderful life with wonderful people in it. I not only have the love of the most amazing man in the world (or at least the most amazing man in the world for me. Everyone else thinking that could be problematic), I have a wonderful family, I have a wonderful almost-family, I'm reconnecting with great old friends, I've been blessed with good health, good looks, and smarts. What is there to complain about? I have it good. I have it better than good. I'm well taken care of, I'm never without anything I need, or want. I'm spoiled, but yet sometimes, not always, but sometimes, that my-life-sucks attitude sneaks in.

My life sucking. That's a ridiculous mentality, a ridiculous statement. I have everything I could possibly need. God has blessed me so abundantly; he's given me so much more than I'd ever deserve. And truly, how many people are given the huge gift of finding the person they'll spend the rest of their life with at the age of 19. The last year and seven months has been the happiest time in my life. This time has helped me discover what earthly romantic love can, and should, be, what a healthy relationship truly is, that the butterflies never have to go away, and that with the right person, I can find myself, not lose myself. I get to avoid the awkward dating scene, avoid the stress of find the "one". I get to spend almost all of my adult life totally and completely in love with the right person. I got my fairy tale; maybe that sounds cheesy, but it's true. Avoiding serial heartache and fruitless relationship after fruitless relationship. Being best friends and lovers. Complimenting each others personalities. Wanting the same things in life -- being different people with the same goals and interests. Cooking together, traveling together, reading together, still being able to talk for hours. Those are some of the best gift I could ever be given. Love isn't something to take for granted. I am so incredibly blessed.

I have a family who loves me and takes care of me. Who accepts me and wants the best of me. Who lets me be myself without any expectations. Whom I'm not just related to, but friends with. That's something to be thankful for. No family is perfect, but I've been blessed with a pretty great one.

I should be thanking God every single day for what he's blessed me with. I don't want to be pessimistic, I don't want to sometimes dwell on what's wrong rather than focus on what's right. I don't want to be that person who has everything, but doesn't realize it. Praise the Lord for my blessings. Praise the Lord for giving me a life so much better than anything I could have planned for myself. Praise the Lord for keeping me alive to experience it all. Praise the Lord for saving me from my self destructive nature. Praise the Lord for giving me not just happiness, but JOY.

Looking back on my life, it's amazing where God has brought me. Two years ago I was an incredibly unhappy and self destructive person. I didn't value myself and didn't understand how anyone could. I didn't understand how God could even value me. Self loathing is an awfully sad place to be. Dwelling on the hurt and pain, blaming myself, sabotaging my own well being. I inflicted these things on myself for years. So praise God for pulling me out and placing me into a life of love, joy, and all around bliss. Praise God for helping me smile again. And praise God for providing me with people in my life who help me stay on track. Praise the Lord!!

Living in the Clouds

Banksy - girl with balloon

You know what my problem is? I'm a planner. I'm great at planning things on large scale, such as trips, events, ect. However, I am completely unable to plan out small things, such as what to do each day. I'm horrible at time-management. Each day I wake up thinking "hmm, I should accomplish something today. I should finish that mound of homework. I should clean the house." And go to bed thinking "why did I even bother getting up today?" I used to be great at these things. Perhaps not the homework part, but hey, I could at least make progress. Accomplish something. Lately it's a disgruntled glance at my books and the pile of dirty dishes, then back to.... ?

My issue is, how do I plan mundane events? How can I make, no, force myself to do things that I feel are painfully dull. Why am I so lethargic? When life is boring, how can I force fun out of it?

No More Cookies

(photo stolen from Stephen's Europe pictures)


I've finally embraced myself. Well, maybe not quite that intense, but I have finally discovered my love. And it does not include the oven. It's a decision that, though small, is life changing for me: I don't have to bake in order to love cooking. Phew, that's a relief.

Anthony Bourdain helped me discover this. (And yes, I have been spending all my time watching No Reservations. Hey, I'd rather go to New Zealand than do my homework. Or clean. Or really do anything else.) In Paris, his very first episode, he summed it up perfectly: "There's only two things wrong with bakers: One, I can't do what they do and Two, they get up too damn early in the morning". I'd much rather spend my time improving my cooking than carefully measure flour. I think there's a subconscious reason why I destroyed nearly all my measuring spoons and half the measuring cups. I hate them, and refuse to use them. It's not stubbornness, it's resilience.

But with this new-found enlightenment, comes the downfalls -- cooking every night means the kitchen is always dirty. No matter how thoroughly I clean it each day, it looks like a bomb went off each night. So I've decided Steve gets to deal with it this time. he he. I cook, isn't it ok for him to clean once and a while :o)

Food Porn

Ah, the consequences of watching Anthony Bourdain. Normally the show makes me moderately hungry, but I should have known what his time in Istanbul would do to me.

After cooking chicken pitas for Steve and I, and him laying on the floor from being so full, we decided to watch the episode. Thinking we were already so full, who'd imagine our stomachs would be growling about 10 minutes in. It's amazing how convincing appetites can be. Or perhaps it's that the Turks may be the best cooks in the world.

The reasons to go to Turkey are piling up. Why doesn't the money do the same?

Baby It's Cold Outside

Mmmm, I love snow days. It's an excuse to stay home, drink tea, and cuddle up under a heap of blankets watching TV. It's the only time I can do nothing without feeling guilty. I guess in my mind, I can't go to work or really go much of anywhere without running the risk of crashing, so it only makes sense to stay home. In fact, it's smart to not leave if I don't have to. My car is the size of an egg, and does not fair well in snowy, icy weather. I'd rather not deal with an SUV honking at me for going 10 mph. I don't want to crash! I will go as slow as possible.

Perhaps I am a bit boring, but my favorite thing is staying home. And if I must enter the real world, I only want to go to the coffee shop or the grocery store. However, I do have a constant pull to travel. Which is very unbalanced. I love being out and about in other cities and places, just not at home. That's not unheard of, right? I think so. And even if it's not, I'm ok with that.

Being content to stay home is important. Constantly needing to be doing something, looking for entertainment has to be exhausting. I'd rather read a book. And what's more exciting than traveling around the world for free? Other than actually traveling around the world that is.