mexivegan.

If you know anything about me you know how much I love cheese. Seriously. I blame it on being born in America's dairy land.

When I decided to incorporate some vegan dishes into my diet I silently mourned the decreasing cheese presence in my life. Which is why I will never go 100% vegan.

I also couldn't try a vegan cheese replacement because I knew I would resent it and would be wishing I was eating real cheese instead.

So I set out to make a quesadilla that would taste delicious and have zero cheese (real or fake).

Enter the sweet potato and black bean quesadilla.

I found a few versions online and just kind of combined all of them with some of my own variations.

I started by puréeing a sweet potato. Since I didn't have time to roast it first I just wrapped it in wet paper towels and Saran wrap and popped it in the microwave. I know the theory that microwaves take away the nutritional value but turns out its just an urban legend. Not that that theory has stopped me before.

After I had some purée I went a little crazy and started adding whatever veggies I had on hand. Corn, black beans, green onions and spinach.

Seasoned it with hot sauce and cayenne pepper.

Let me put in a plug for my most favorite hot sauce.  Use whatever you want, but this brand will definitely do the job.

Then I spread the mixture on a tortilla and cooked it up.

I also made some fresh guacamole to smear on top.

And guess what?

It was good.

I'm not going to say that it tasted exactly like a quesadilla with cheese. Because it didn't. Because there was no cheese. But. It was good. And I didn't even mind that it was sans queso.

vegan baking take one.

OK guys.
Here it is.  My first attempt at vegan cooking.  And I don't mean a dish, like a salad, that just happens to be vegan.

I mean legitimate, conscious effort, bona fide, straight up (you get the idea...) vegan cooking.

The first idea was sparked from this post on one of my new blog crushes (seriously, I lose track of time so bad it's not even funny reading through her blog.  Not to mention it blows my mind that she has over 4,000 followers.  Kudos).

If you clicked on the link, you already know that this recipe has only TWO ingredients.  That's right, two.

A brownie mix and a can of black beans (I guess technically there are three including the water.  Even more technically four if you add vanilla, but still pretty simple).  Yep.  Black BEANS.  I've heard of beans in baking before, but was never daring enough to actually try it.  Although, the other recipe called for a can of pork and beans, which eliminates the vegan factor.

I fudged (see what I did there?) the recipe a little, except minus the fudge part because she used a fudge brownie mix too, and decided to go for the regular brownie mix and not the reduced fat one.  I also omitted the chocolate chips and added just a little bit of vanilla, like a teaspoon or so.

As much as I love baking and baking from scratch, I'm not above the convenience of a boxed whatever mix, especially when you're trying things out for the first time.

Before you go running for your barf bags, trust me.  These brownies are delicious.  This is coming from someone who used to hate beans and still slightly dry heaves at the thought of refried beans.

I took my chances when my roommates weren't home and hurried to whip up this recipe before they had the chance to think that I really lost my mind.  One of them has already mentioned that I'm "really going all out" when she saw my soy milk in the fridge.  Which I'm still not entirely sure I'm actually going to drink.  For now I plan on using it as an ingredient when cooking.

But back to the brownies.

If you didn't click on the link, but really you should, because her blog is that cool, I'll give you the run down.

Drain and rinse the can of beans.
Put in a blender.
Add a cup of water.
Pulverize the living daylights out of the beans until they are smooth.
Add to the brownie mix.
Stir.
Bake according to the directions.
Enjoy.

That is it.
So Easy.
So Delicious.
Seriously.  They're thick and chewy and don't taste like beans.
So vegan.

I wasn't looking for a vegan brownie recipe when I stumbled across this gem and it isn't even advertised as vegan and busy bee lauren isn't even vegan herself.  But I noticed that all of the two ingredients are vegan friendly.  Yep.  Including the brownie mix.  At least as far as I can tell (cocoa powder is vegan  and it seems like the chocolate in the mix would be the only questionable ingredient).  Even if it ends up not being vegan, it's darn close and my first attempt.  So haters can step off.  At least I'm trying.

I'm trying this one next.

letters to myself

Dear future self,


This month’s fast Sunday was really good. They usually are, but it’s interesting how on occasion every word seems to be exactly what you need to hear at just that moment. It’s been happening a lot lately when I go to church, especially on the Sundays where we abstain from food and water for that set of time, that I find answers to my prayers in the heart felt testimony of others. I wish I could write a thank you card to each person whose testimony has comforted my heart and calmed my worries. But I’d be running out of stamps like you wouldn’t even believe, so I hope that somehow they can feel in return that their words were successful and touched someone.

I hope you remember how you felt each of those times. When hard times arise and trials come a knocking, I hope you remembered how you felt sitting in that chapel. I hope you remember feeling the peace the gospel brings. I hope you allowed that peaceful feeling to pull you through whatever times lie ahead. Hard and good. Because at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. The truth of the gospel.

Sometimes I wish there really was a way I could contact you. Or look into a crystal ball. Or something.

I wonder what life will bring, and if I’m doing the right things to bring it about. If I’m living in the right city. If I’m working at the right job. If I’m associating with the right people.

I wish that you could give me some advice. Answer some of my questions. You could let me know that it really is about time I start worrying less, although it’s still something you’re working on, but making improvements. To really go for your goals. That nothing is too far from reach. That as much as you wish, life will never be as simple as it was on your mission. But that doesn’t need to be a burden or something to resent. That the greater the risk, the greater the reward. To take some chances. To continue doing everything you’re doing.

I suppose that’s the beauty of life. That we don’t always know, but we can know it’s right. That if we’re doing the right thing that it can’t not work out. We know when we’re doing the right thing. We know when we aren’t. We can always try a little harder and we always know in which areas.

Sincerely,
current Christine

adventures in (mostly) plant based eating. part one.

Vegetarian and vegan diets have always seemed intriguingly defeating. Because here's the thing. I'm not going to say that I will never eat something again because I like cheese and I like bacon. But I will say that I am open to the possibility of having a primarily plant based diet where I incorporate more fresh and natural foods into my diet with a very occasional bacon cheeseburger and no guilt.  My eating habits aren't horrible but they can definitely be improved.

So my quest began. But on these conditions.

1. I wasn't going to eat the vegetarian or vegan version of something. My sister went vegan for a while and I didn't understand how her preservative filled veggie shreds replacement for cheese was any better than eating real cheese on occasion. Isn't the point to get away from those food products? It seemed contradictory. I wanted to have meals that were mostly fruit, vegetable and grain based.

2. I wasn't going to go 100% in any direction.  I will never go totally vegetarian or vegan because even though more veggies will never hurt,  I like meat and other animal products and in moderation they can be totally nutritious. The one thing I remember from my nutrition class that I may or may not have almost failed was that although you can get complete proteins from other sources, your body still absorbs complete proteins best from meat. 

3. The ingredients used in dishes I would make had to be either be readily on hand or easy to find. I didn't want to go on a wild goose chase for an obscure oil extracted from a plant that only grows at a certain temperature on the east facing mountain side of a far off country.

4. It had to be nutritionally based and beneficial. Sure one can be vegetarian and not eat meat, but I don't really think that french fries and mac and cheese are better options.

5. They had to be real meals and not just apples and celery sticks for the rest of my life.

6. I couldn't break the bank while eating this way. I'm not going to do it if I have to give up an important limb or my first born child.

7.  This way of eating will be used as a way to implement healthier eating habits.  Not completely change the way I eat just some simple and healthy changes.  I figure making a vegetarian or vegan meal a few times a week will help me eat veggies in a more creative way without getting tired of them because one can only eat a side of broccoli so many days in a row.   

8. Tofu scares me. Which I realize is more of a fact than a condition, but pertinent none the less.

I know that I'm jumping to a lot of ignorant conclusions, but I think most would agree that these are concerns when it comes to plant based diets, especially a vegan one.

I scoured the Internet and talked to coworkers and friends who ate vegan or vegetarian diets and the response was exciting.

Sure, I found a lot of recipes with a lot of very strange ingredients that I immediately discarded. But I also found an aresenal of resources for easy, simple and delicious sounding meals that you don't necessarily have to be vegetarian or vegan to enjoy.

Here goes nothing.

Stay tuned for updates.

untitled.

pre script.
I try really hard to stay away from negative rants and complaining on my blog (which isn't the intention of this post, but I could see how it might be seen that way), and I REALLY don't mean to start a pity party or a "woe is me" but here it goes.

A lot of us, nay, all of us, know all too well the frustrations of dating and being single (as in not married, not necessarily not dating, but not dating can also be included).  These frustrations can come at any stage in life, right?

So, I really wish that when the topic comes up among friends and I try to give my two cents that every conversation wouldn't go like this.

How old are you?


25.


(almost always cue eye roll)


Just give it a few more years.  Till you're my age.

Why does it matter what age we are or aren't?  We're both on the same path.  Looking for that eternal someone and we both still haven't found them.  What does age have to do with it at all?  I'd put a pretty penny down that we won't even be defined by age in the eternities

I don't think age matters or that being older gives you more right to complain because we still both yearn for our eternal family to start.  What is a few more years going to do?  Give me more time to play and avoid responsibility?  Isn't that what our church leaders have counseled us not to do?  Not that we can't enjoy life.  We can have fun and take advantage of the time we have when we're single but our quest and our focus should be finding an honorable eternal companion during all of that free time and fun having.  Not sitting around until we reach a certain age and becoming frustrated and then doing something about it.

Sure, a lot of my current associates may have a good 3-5+ years on me, and I'm sure with each passing year it does get harder.  But someone being a few years older than me and single doesn't take away my insecurities when it comes to dating.  No matter how much younger I am, this is the stage that I am at and I'm trying to do what I can.  Just like you, just like everyone.

I have in mind what I'd like for a future husband and I try my best to have the qualities that one might like in a future wife all while trying to progress (and not always succeeding) on my own--working full time, developing new skills, maybe continuing my education--and I do those things to prepare for the future when that time does come to take a step closer to eternity.

Although it can get discouraging, it is still important that we don't let our situations get us down.  We need to focus on what we have and not what we don't have.  Sure, I look forward to marriage as much as the next person.  I think it's going to be great and that it will bring more opportunities to learn and grow in a unique setting.  But since I'm not there yet, I need to enjoy life now and all the benefits that my current stage brings, which mindset I hope to always have.  To be happy where I am, but not complacent.  To be content but always striving for more while not letting frustrations or disappointments in attempts hinder my progression to the next phase, and once we get to that next phase to keep progressing.
There is always room for growth and improvement.


That's all.

my admittedly naive perception of parenthood.

(source)

Sometimes I wonder what life will bring me as a mother.  I'm nowhere near that phase of life, but I find myself thinking about it often.  Obviously I don't know my future kids yet, since you know, I haven't had them yet and I probably need to meet another significant person first.  

If all would go according to my selfish plans, I would like to get married and work for the first few years of marriage to help save for the day when we do decide to start our family.  I don't know what phase of life my husband will be in when that time comes.  If he'll be in school or if he's already working full time.  I know motherhood/parenthood is important, but I want to be prepared for it, including financially.  Working for a few years will give me and whoever is at my side the opportunity to save so we can adequately provide for our future family.  But you hear over and over how people weren't planing on starting their family when she/their wife got pregnant and somehow they made it work, so I probably shouldn't worry that much, but me not worrying is like asking the sun not to shine.  Simply impossible.  

Motherhood is a responsibility that requires work.  Hard work that lasts past office hours (fatherhood too).  I admire women that stay at home with their kids all day long.  It is very selfless of them.  The same for men.  Lots of men are stay at home dads for one reason or another.

What about the woman who goes into the office?  Does she somehow fulfill her role of motherhood less?  I know I'm not a mom or a wife, so my opinion might seem skewed and naive, but I can still plan for the future.  I look forward to the day when I can stay home with my children and create a home while my husband works alongside me contributing to the environment of our home while working in the office and providing in a different way for our family. 

However, I'd rather err on the side of caution.  What if he can't get a job?  What if, heaven forbid, something happens and he is unable to work?  Or what if we have bills that we did not prepare for and his financial earnings are not enough?  

Am I making any sense?  

I guess what I'm trying to say is that some mothers work in the home and some work out of the home and they are both working for the love of their family.  Any mom is a full time working woman.  Men and women are equal in parenting.  For the most part their roles are different but perhaps at times they will have to help with the other's traditional role.  But at the end of the day they are equal.  Fighting for the same purpose, to protect and provide for their family.  

just for fun

I saw these two commercials at work today (we have the TV playing for patients in the waiting room--conveniently where my desk is located).

I don't know why, they're kind of silly, but they were just what my Monday needed.  Just a little something simple to brighten my day.  I hope they do the same for you. 





which led me to this one



oh.  and this one too. 

let freedom ring and dear boys 3 liberty style

The Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays.  I just love it, love it, love it.  I know at times there seems to be a lot to worry about concerning the future of our country, but the Fourth seems to be the one day that we can forget all of those worries and focus on the great freedoms that we do have because of our founding fathers no matter who is currently sitting in the oval office.  America will always be the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

Three Fourth of Julys ago I was in Virginia (two I was in North Carolina, last I was in Idaho and this one I'm in Utah  I've almost made it coast to coast!).  I wish I could say that I took the time to reflect on what it was like to be within the vicinity of land rich with history that founded this great country.  But I didn't.  I was selfish and worried that I wouldn't see fireworks.  It was one of my first days in Virginia as a full time missionary.  We had the whole day planned out and it was going to be perfect.  A local member graciously agreed to take us and a lady we were currently teaching about 30 minutes away to Norfolk (which is home to one of the largest military bases) so she could witness a baptism.  

The day started out at approximately 100 degrees F and 100% humidity.  It was so freaking hot and I was dripping buckets of sweat within minutes of stepping outside.  The day went on.  We couldn't get a hold of the member who was going to take us.  The lady we were teaching called us and told us not only did she not want to go to the baptism but she didn't want us to come by anymore.  Not at all.  

I don't even know what we ended up doing that day.  But I do remember wishing I was at home with my family and on my way to the cabin where we would spend the day boating, grilling and watching fireworks.  I just wanted to see some fireworks.  As we pulled into the apartment complex that evening to finally end our day, off in the distance I saw some fireworks and it was the perfect ending to a perfectly trying day.  

This year I will be celebrating the 4th Salt Lake style by doing the most American thing possible.  Eating meat and watching fireworks.  

Also.

Elise, over at Elise's Pieces had FOUR new little images today to go along with her dear boys series and I couldn't pick just one.  So I fashioned up a little image and decided to use all four (Elise--I hope that's OK.  I put the source underneath.  If it's not, let me know and I will gladly take it down)

(source)

Dear America,

Thank you for being all cool and free.  I'm sorry people are freaking out about who your next leader will be.  But that's never going to change.

Dear Virginia,

Thank you for teaching me the importance and value of the military and all of our honorable service men and women.

Dear every military person ever and all of their family,

Thank you for all of your sacrifices that protect our freedoms.

Dear quiet boy,

We'll both be seeing fireworks tonight.  Too bad they're actual fireworks...

Dear past boy,

I hope you enjoy your 4th in DC.  I'm slightly jealous.  

Dear Utah,

Kenneth, aka, NBC's greatest page ever, once said "I think there's a lot about this world that we don't understand, like the afterlife or how bread becomes toast".


You know what else I bet Kenneth wouldn't understand?  Utah's obsession with ranch dressing.  Maybe it's not limited to Utah, but I swear, it's not a party if ranch dressing isn't invited.  Also, in Utah it's not even ranch dressing.  It's simply ranch.  You will commonly hear "where's the ranch?!" at any event involving food.


When I first went to college, which granted was in Idaho, (so maybe this post should be "Dear Utah AND Idaho") I was at Cragio's (or maybe we were ordering pizza late one night after curfew.  I can't really remember.  So many stories from college somehow involve pizza.  Riiiiiiiight?  Who's with me?) with my roommates and one of them insisted that we don't forget the ranch.  Ranch?  With pizza?  I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt since she was from Ohio but, the more and more I ate pizza in Idaho with more and more different people EVERYONE currently residing in Idaho had ranch as a dipping side. 
  
When I was a cycling instructor the fitness activities board went on a retreat and the coordinator told us that the first thing she made sure she bought was ranch dressing.  She said, to quote "I didn't even know what we'd be eating yet, but I knew we had to have ranch".  


When I moved to Utah the ranch dressing madness only continued.  I quickly learned that ranch was not limited to salad and pizza.  People put it on EVERYTHING.  Even just recently at work, someone had to make sure that ranch would make an appearance at the baked potato bar.  

The other day I was at the grocery store when I almost stopped dead in my tracks.  

This one grocery store had more types of ranch than I could possibly imagine.  There were different brands, different sizes and different flavors.  Then there were individual dipping sizes and powder mix in case you wanted to make your own dressing at home.  I was in total shock.  I am not kidding when I say there were at least twenty varieties of ranch dressing.  TWENTY.  Read 'em and weep ladies and gents.  I couldn't even adequately capture all of the varieties in these quick shots.  

Although, I will admit, that the bacon flavored ranch almost caught my attention.  Because bacon makes everything better.  

I beg your pardon?

Do you ever have those moments in a conversation where you are so caught off guard you have no idea how to respond?


Here are some of mine. 
Conversations I have actually had or things that people have actually said to me.

  

“Girrrrrrrrl.  You make Springtime look great.”

(said by someone potentially high and/or hung-over)

“Are you white?”

(read here for more details)

“Is he cute?”

“YEAH!”

“…really?”

(as if a cute boy could be interested in me?)

“You can make donuts?  I thought they were something you just bought.”

(umm…….)

“I’ll go on a date.  But I’m not going to kiss you just yet.”

(Thanks for the warning?)

"Wow.  This is taking a really long time.  I guess it's because I'm used to drawing skinny people."

(Is that a fat joke?)

"You're so good.  You're just such....a sweet spirit."

(do you know what that phrase means?)

And quite possibly my all time favorite...

“You’re a classy broad.”

(thank you 60 year old man that visits me at my desk)

dear boys 2

I'm hooked.

I love reading these letters written for anonymous boys.  I just can't get enough of it.







Dear quiet boy,
I'm pretty sure that we both know, and that we both know we both know.  Make sense?  All I'm saying is, it would be a guaranteed yes.  Just ask.  Just saying.
 
Dear neighbor boy,
I'm sending the missionaries over whether you like it or not.

Dear testimony boy,
I'm still dying on the inside and getting over the fact that you actually said "go out and get some" from the pulpit.  Didn't think that one through, did you?

Dear Justin Bieber boy,
Why oh why do your tickets have to be $200?  Don't you know that your fans are poor working girls?

Dear tall boy,
You would have an incredibly cute girlfriend.

name alert

I'm trying to amp up my blog.  AKA, lay out makeover (which is still in edit mode) and title.

when I was your age

The other day when I was at work the news was on they were talking about favorite retro toys.

Things like pogs, lite bright, easy bake ovens, beanie babies, etc.

At almost the exact same moment the thought crossed my mind, the anchor beat me to it and spoke it.

"Wait a minute, are the 90s retro?"
"Yeah!  They were 20 years ago!"

WHAT?!  How were the 90s twenty years ago?  TWENTY? 

Have I finally reached the age where it's appropriate to share stories from my childhood and kids today will look at me in horror, wondering how I possibly survived childhood?

Like when my mom tells me that her easy bake oven and creepy crawler maker were so dangerous she near missed electricution on multiple occassions?  Today they're powered by a light bulb. 

I know I still have a lot of my life to live, but sometimes it gets a little depressing.

Like when I find out that some of my friends were born in the 90s.  It's a line that once it's defined and crossed, it's hard to go back.  Not that I'm that far off, only a few years, but still.  I'm a prodcut of the 80s.  Who's born in the 90s?  Pfffft.     

Or when I was working at an elementary school and every single kid was born in --I don't even know what you'd say these days,--the thousands???!!

Here's to growing old.  It never stops.

h2ohhh

If any of you are like me, then you like your diet coke fixing.  Or diet whatever.  I enjoy diet coke.  But I really enjoy diet mountain dew code red.  I always feel slightly ridiculous buying it at the grocery store because it seems like a bit of an odd soda choice, but I like it so much that I keep buying it. 

But here's my dilemma.  I know that I shouldn't be drinking near as much diet soda as I do.  But I can't help it.  I've tried to stop.  So many times.  I remember thinking that missionaries weren't allowed to drink soda because the missionaries at home NEVER DID.  And I was even a little sad thinking that when I embarked on my mission I wouldn't be able to have a single sip of diet soda for 18 months.   Not that it was that big of a deal, I got over it pretty quickly.  But you can imagine my delight when at my first meal in the MTC there was a coke soda fountain machine in the cafeteria.  Caffeine free only of course.  I drink caffeine.  A lot of members don't (to each his own) but I guess they like to cater to the masses. 

I try to drink more water.  I really do.  But when the fridge at work is fully stocked with both and I can drink water for free at home, I tend to go for diet coke at work.  The only problem is, is that I still buy diet soda when I go to the grocery store, so I'm also drinking diet soda at home. 

I don't even drink regular soda that often.  It's too sweet.  I'll drink it every now and then, but not very often.  Besides, I'd rather eat my calories than eat them.   

I drink water too.  Just not as much as I should.

I've heard all of the health dangers that come with drinking diet soda.  But you know what?  Cheeseburgers and bacon are bad for your health too.  But they're still delicious and we still eat them.  

I will admit though that I can do my part to drink more water.  So here it is, my pledge to drink more water and less diet soda.   

dear boys

I stumbled across this blog the other day after checking up on my old roommate and friend.

I have a fascination with the blogging community.  I really like when I get inspired, especially to write, when perusing through others thoughts and little ditties.

Here's one that I wanted to have a go at, and besides.  I couldn't resist the cleverly designed corresponding button.





Dear boys,
I hope one day I birth a lot of you.  I want as many boys as possible and as few girls as possible.  Seriously.  Like four boys and two girls.  And I'd really like a boy first.  I've always wanted an older brother, so I figure the next best thing is to give a daughter an older brother.  So keep that in mind.

Dear boys,
Do you know how easy it is for you to look good?  Seriously.  All you have to wear is a nice fitting pair of jeans and something as simple as an equally good fitting plain colored tshirt and BAM.  Looking good.  Girls have to worry about soooo much more.

Dear boys,
As I've mentioned before, black square glasses never hurt anyone.  If I end up dating you my only requirement will be that you never wear your contacts and only your glasses.

Dear boys,
It doesn't take much to impress a girl or make her feel important/special.  Most are pretty simple.  Take out in the park is fine.  I know the Bachelor would tell you otherwise.  That dates must include private helicopter rides overlooking a vast mountain range ending in a picnic with a gourmet meal that you single handedly cooked while simultaneously flying said private helicopter.  But have you noticed the success rate of the Bachelor?  I think you'd have better odds going into business with Donald Trump. 

Dear a boy,
Did you fall in a mine shaft?  Did you just come out of a coma?  Were you attacked by a werewolf?






 

what's a girl to do?

So....
Confession time.
I'm not much of a girly girl.  Like not at all.  I own more chucks and vans than high heels.  I think I own one possibly two dresses.  Four at the very most, but I really only wear one of them, and I've only worn it once.

My daily make up routine consists of mascara.  Sometimes.  And on a really good day, eye shadow.  But let's not get crazy.

I got blind sided the other day and went to a Mary Kay party.  I wanted to crawl into a corner and silently weep because their skin regimen consists of THIRTEEN steps.  THIRTEEN.  Including five eye creams.  I don't know why you'd even use one eye cream (I don't even know what eye cream is, I mean obviously it's lotion for the eyes (or rather the skin around the eyes.....?!??!??!!!) but what purpose does it serve?  Can't that skin be lump summed into the face and therefore face lotion would also work?!) let alone five.  Woof. 

And all of that is BEFORE the foundation and powder and blush and three eye shadows and everything like such as.  Come on. 

I'm sorry, but I'd rather sleep an extra hour and I'd rather put that money aside for a house mortgage.  And just forget about transporting all of that makeup around in a make up trunk on wheels, because we all know how I feel about rollie backpacks. 

I've only recently ventured in to the world of earrings and nail painting.  I still feel a little awkward doing it.  Like it's not really me, ya know?

I have some friends and old roommates that totally rock the glammed up look.  Everything possible including big poofy hair, because you know what they say.  The bigger the hair, the closer to God. 

But that's them, and they look good.   I feel like if I were to go out in heels and teased hair and big flashy jewelry people would run in sheer terror.

But why do those things have to define femininity? 

Now, I wouldn't say I'm a tom boy either.  I don't love sports.  I'll play, but I'm not going to promise mad skillz.  I also think that I still can't quite pull off every look on this web site, but it seems to fit me and my personality much more.

So maybe I can't rock heels and a little black dress.  But rather skinny jeans, vans and a plaid shirt.  While still managing to look like a girl.

Did you know that I'm in love/obsessed with plaid?  Serisouly.  It's ridiculous.

I'm a sucker for boys that pull off plaid.  I'd be 100% done for if you wear plaid, a good pair of jeans, shoes of your choice (preferably something in the sneaker family. Vans, chucks, etc.) and black square glasses.  If you speak Spanish, then there really is no hope for m

free flying

There’s something about being in nature, and I don’t just mean outside at the park. Although that’s enjoyable as well. I mean completely away from the city and void of any distraction. You and the solitude and nothing else. Not even other people. It’s something incredible. I dare to say amazing. But not in the way everyone exhausts the word to describe every cookie ever baked or every cupcake ever frosted. Not that kind of amazing. Truly amazing. As in to astonish greatly. Sure, I love cookies and cupcakes as much as the next person, but I wouldn’t go as far to say they astonish me.

Nature, on the other hand. Now that’s a different story. Not just nature, but all that lives and dwells within. Every creature great and small. To think that they were each created by the literal (another word I don’t use lightly. Have you heard how I feel about that word?) hand of a Divine being.

I don’t have too many passions. There are a lot of things that I’m interested in and plenty of things that I use my time to participate in. But I don’t have one great passion. I suppose one day that might change. You know, when I have a family and all. I guess it’s because I’m kind of an easy going person and fairly neutral. Not that easy going people can’t have passions. I don’t tend to take sides, rather I look for the truth on both. Or if you take a side it means you aren’t easy going. I think I simply lack whatever emotion is connected to true a single passion. I don’t think my words adequately describe what I’m thinking, but at least I know what I’m trying to say.

However, one thing I find myself particularly drawn to lately and perhaps even passionate about are birds. They’re incredible. At times I find myself wishing I possessed their capabilities. The ability to fly. I love watching that moment when a bird is about to take flight. They ruffle their feathers, as if mentally preparing themselves for each flight. Telling themselves “I am capable and I am strong. I can do this.” Upon completion, they push down to gain momentum and then soar away. In an instant. In one swift and beautiful movement. I love that moment when their feet press down and then almost simultaneously lift off the ground. They quickly move from one phase to the next. Trusting their instinct all the while.

Or to sing a happy song. There’s nothing quite like a calm and quiet morning. Accompanied by the comforting melody of a sweet songbird. It’s as if they are welcoming all the potential of a brand new day. Anxiously awaiting new opportunities that lie in store.

I love Maya Angelou’s poem “I know why the caged bird sings” and how closely it relates to human existence. The caged bird is fully aware of their capabilities yet outside forces prohibit them. Outside forces that are outside of their control that ground them. While the caged bird is grounded, they are forced to watch their peers around them. Fluttering by freely without a care in the world. Perhaps taking advantage of the capabilities and freedom they possess.

How unlike them are we? I venture to say not very. I know in my life I have found myself on both sides. Maybe even at the same time. I let outside forces get me down.

The part that touches me the most is the very end. Her words are beautifully written that paint such a clear picture.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Maya Angelou

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams. I can't even imagine being in that position. To look down at the headstone marked with “Find joy. Be happy. Start an eternal family.” would be a nightmare in every sense of the word. All my greatest hopes are dead. Never to come to pass. Never to spring forth and have life.

His wings are clipped. Void of all potential. Meanwhile suffering with the vision of what could have been.

For the caged bird sings of freedom. Their greatest hope is to rid themselves of all things grounding. Whether self imposed or not. To be free and fly above the influence.

Oh. And if Harry Potter were real and I was a wizard, I totally hope my patronus would be a bird.

perma-kid

Although my last post was all about entering the fancy world of becoming an adult, I've learned along the way that I still have a lot of kid tendencies. Not that I'm childish and immature. I take responsibility where responsibility is required. But sometimes you just can't help but find joy in the simple things in life. Even if they are typically enjoyed by kids.

A lot of my kid at heart tendencies revolve around my sense of humor. There are still some things that I know I shouldn't laugh at but I just can't help it. Sometimes I'm even shaking I'm trying not to laugh.

Like when I worked at the elementary school and a kids new year's resolutions were "to fart, show off and fart again". Talk about setting the bar high. But come on. How is that not funny? Maybe I'm a perma-teenage boy instead of a perma-kid.

From time to time I've been known to enjoy teenie bopper music. If one were to browse my running playlist they may or may not find songs from the musical stylings of Miley Cyrus, Justin Bieber and the Jonas Brothers. Maybe. I'm not saying yes, and I'm not saying no.

On occasion, I watch the Disney channel. Well not super recently, but more recently than I'd like to admit. Hannah Montana is pretty sassy, and I always like it when people aren't afraid to speak their mind. As long as it's not rude, malicious or back biting.

I can't let go of my ridiculous beanie baby collection. They're all packed away and stored somewhere at my house in Minnesota, but throwing them away or donating them seems like I'm saying goodbye to my childhood memories forever. Just like Andy in Toy Story. Although it had a happier twist, some new kids were able to enjoy the toys he had so lovingly cherished and cared for. I think I like the idea that maybe one day my kids will want to play with them and it will also save them an umpteen amount of money because they won't have to spend all of theirs on silly things like I did. But when you're a kid, it's not silly. It's a product of your hard earned allowance after doing chores all week.

It seems like just yesterday the biggest thing I had to worry about was whether I should spend my summer days riding bikes, reading or swimming at the pool. It's easy to get stuck in the grind of the work week and begrudgingly living for the weekends. I think we could all benefit from holding on to the simplicity of childhood for as long as we can.

how to tell if you're an adult.

A few months ago I graduated and entered the real world. I'm only now starting to realize what that really means. And I'm sure it's only a minute percentage of total understanding. I haven't even experienced marriage or having kids or things that only further secure adulthood.

So far, these are some surefire signs that I'm dipping my toes into adulthood.

1. Bills, bills, bills.

Because of the benevolence of my very gracious parents, I've avoided a substantial amount of bills up until this point in my life. Not to mention that all of the apartments I've lived in beforehand included utilities in rent (PS Rexburg, outside in the real world, nowhere includes utilities and comes furnished. It's very gracious of you, but it's quite a slap in the face when one starts apartment hunting in the real world). But now my money has to go towards things like water, gas, electricity, etc. I really think twice now before I leave the room and every single light in it turned on.

2. I find myself wanting to save for things like a COUCH. I went to Ikea the other day to buy a rug (what have I turned in to?!) and found myself drooling over this absolutely divine couch. It would be a pretty big purchase, but I figure, what a better time than now to buy one? Or at least save to buy one. I don't have a husband or any kids and my bills are minimal. I might as well buy something now before my future family starts to suck up all of my money.

I used to save for things like ipods and cameras. Now I'm saving for home furnishings.

3. Sales on things like hand soap. I went to Target today and soap was on sale. SOAP. Two giant things of it for $5. I was thrilled. I feel like that screams nothing but lame.

4. I splurged the other day and bought two new footstools (excuse me, ottomans. My friends looked at me like I had suddenly grown a third arm out of my head when I used the word footstool instead). But I'm in love with them. They're gray. And perfect.

It seems like lists should always be in increments of 5. Maybe it's the OCD talking. But unfortunately I can only come up with four. For now. Stay tuned.

let's get fly.

I've realized lately that my blog doesn't have a very consistent tone. Usually I'll focus a post on a specific topic, but other times they're random thoughts that sometimes relate to current updates in my life. I guess that's why this is my blog. I can do whatever I please. And haters gonna hate.

I love this song. I crank it up whenever I go running. And it's by Atmosphere, and they hail from Minnesota. Enough said.

I love the line "empty the pack and watch your wings grow back".

Without sounding totally angsty, sometimes at the end of the day life sucks. Bad things happen to good people. And I don't know why, but I do know that all we can do is shake it off and go on to what's next. Because odds are it's something a whole lot better.