a bakers dozen

being a clique can be rapturously wonderful sometimes.

while waiting for my avacado blt bagel and sipping on blackberry lemonade in einsteins, i took a gander at my habitat. the september afternoon sun filtered through the changing leaves on center street, to shallowly hit the auburn wood floors, warming the wood grain. the fall colors from the window paint caught my eye and lead me to peer with interest at the woman in the corner, crouched over her bagel and shmear with a book. to my right sat two gentlemen,very clearly on lunch from business. they knew one another but did not speak or even sit at the same table. instead, their rapt attention was in perusing their respective laptops and plinking out memos. they both stood at the same time, straightened their ties, walked out the door, and finally exchanged a friendly word in the open air. then without a moments hesitation they each turned on their heel and briskly strode in opposite directions to board into their luxurious SUVs. and last but not least, in the opposite corner from the woman sat a young grandpa with a soft bristled mustache and kind eyes, splaying the day's headlines before him at arms length, as if observing a troubled friend with his coffee as protection.

and so. i followed suite. this habitat was moving and breathing and it would be rather rude for me not to join in. i removed a book from my purse and alternated between bagel and book, bagel and book. my back leaned into the comforting high-back wood chair. and i smiled inside at the picturesqueness of  reading a fresh book with a bagel in einsteins.

better

"i don't think better exists."

that's what i said. because, how can it possibly?

with the best thing next to you, terror creeps in-- terror that the best will escape from your grasp. it paralyzes your breathing while simultaneously fortifying walls around your heart. but if you are to have any hope of making things work, and work to make them great, you have to be vulnerable.

it's a catch 22. 

i wish there was a "money back guarantee" of sorts with relationships. 

doesn't work out?? here's your heart and time back! 

just keep your receipt. 

alas. love does not have any guarantees. however, i truly believe that "the lord compensates the faithful for every loss".  and so. if something better exists {which defies all my imagination and logic and sensation} it will come and find me. 

i still stand behind my statement that "i don't think better exists".

so i am being vulnerable. i am being ignorant to dastardly possibilities and believing that what i hold will not disappear. i am believing that the best is not only yet to be, but at my side and in my arms.

*i am counting down the days to general conference and a weekend of beautifully wonderful fantastic food, family, and friends.

lesson learned: zinging is not in the creed of sassiness

you've got mail is the most universally quotable movie.  

without further ado, i rely upon kathleen kelly to poetically portray my angst-- angst because i zinged someone. that feeling washed over me-- the same shame that swells each time emma snub ms. bates, the same horror that belays my memory when i remember an undeserved and unkind word from my lips-- immediate remorse and a need to reel back words and time.

last night "when confronted with a horrible, insensitive person, I knew exactly what I wanted to say and I said it".


and it was small. one line. really, it could have been a joke but my tone said otherwise and i whirled around to signify the end of our communication.  i told my momma-- about what i did. she didn't think it was so bad to call him on his behavior but i still feel... regret.

because "i was cruel and I'm {rarely ever} cruel. though I can hardly believe what I said mattered to this man...but what if it did? no matter what he's done to me there is no excuse for my behavior."

that is the clincher.  i learned there is a line to my sassiness-- i will not be a doormat to be walked over and i will not hestitate to be assertive in calling others out on their irrational and/or rude behavior, but, i do not ever ever want to intentionally hurt someone. to have malicious intent to undercut their confidence even if they did it to me first.  any momentary satisfaction gleaned from seeing his arrogance falter vanished in the blink of an eye. my heart hurt-- and still does-- an ache that can only be righted with an apology. 

but life is beautiful-- you can repair damages and "tweak" yourself into what you want to be.  there is a whole lot of tweaking to be done over in this department, as evidenced by the 5 second catastrophe of last night. 

oy vei. 

i wish i could learn without making so. many. mistakes.

every day.

maybe one day i'll get better at this whole thing, and bite my tongue the next time i want to zing someone.

spice up your life

at the moment my days feel so... so.... routine. boring? maybe. maybe not.  i do enjoy my september days and the people that fill them, but it's practically like clock work-- monday, thursday, wednesday, friday, tuesday... who knows what day it is? they all blend together like episodes of saved by the bell.

a smidgen of breakfast then off to work. a break for tacos or a sandwich before resuming more constructive creativity. drive home and let my body fold into the couch before studying {gre}. talk to huntman for too short a time, then make a mess in the kitchen and perhaps read more, alternated with a little blog stalking for good measure. then, then sigh and sink my clean-face into soft sheets before drifting into dreams. all to begin the cycle again in a few hours time.
i suppose saturday is my form of sanity, with errands and nail-painting, with sundays recharging my soul as they keep me scrambling in a sabbath-observance sort-of-way.

come monday morning, my alarm sounds and i stretch into another week that passes without adventure.

i want some adventure to come along. but the thing about adventure is, you usually have to go find it or make your own. where has the time gone to build forts and slip into disney songs in the kitchen? it is too simple to become boring, to fall into pace with monotonous schedules and loose your desire to explore life.  however, i refuse to become a victim of dullness. when you succumb to being a flat dimension of yourself you loose the childish curiosity and innocence of wonder, the invincibility to dare and dream.

which thought i repudiate.

i want to do something unexpected, out of the blue, and perhaps crazy.  i haven't the foggiest idea what exactly, but it'll come. with a little time i will break out of my schedule into adventure.

happiness is what makes you pretty

"i think happiness is what makes you pretty. period. happy people are beautiful. they become like a mirror and they reflect that happiness.
- drew barrymore

i love waking up in happiness, feeling beautiful and full despite askew hair and smudged mascara from the pervious day.  it is oh, so true-- happiness makes you beautiful. or rather, it makes you feel beautiful. and goodness knows that when you feel beautiful the world is conquerable and happiness attainable. 

for so long i felt unpretty, largely due to the sadness which was cankering my heart. and then, one glorious morning last may as i snuggled into my yellow sheets in a small white room i could call my own, with late-blossoming trees swaying in greeting beyond my window, i became alive again. i breathed for the first time in months, and it was in that moment i chose to stake my claim on happiness. 

every day since i have had to fight for that happiness, something my {blog} friend meg reminded me of. i have crossed over hills of emotion alone and treked mountains with my hand held.  in all of my journeys, away and back to happiness, i have learned this: only you can choose happiness. no one can make you happy, and dependence upon someone to fill internal voids or toss your baggage into the tumultuous waves is dangerous for both parties.  it is up to you to spackle, sand, and paint the daily holes.  only you can unpack and launder the insecurities strapped tightly into the suitcase you clutch. 

it is a process-- and a lengthy one at that, one which i may always be knee-deep in.  but it is possible to move beyond sadness, to be enveloped in the security of your own happiness. and that is what makes you beautiful-- growing into yourself with as much joy as you can muster.  that is why i feel beautiful in a way i did not, or could not, a few years ago-- because i mustered and fought and triumphed.  boys and cupcakes and manicures can offer the painting supplies and help you pick the lock on your heart, but the brushstrokes and unfolding of yourself can only come through you. 

zucchini craze

"vegetables are a must on a diet. i suggest carrot cake, zucchini bread, and pumpkin pie"

- jim davis

my mom use to make magical vanishing zucchini bread. the 4 steaming loaves would evaporate into thin air... or more likely, our stomachs. one wide slice would disappear, then another, and another until all that remained were crumbs. and of course, those were devoured too.

this is all to say i have always had a fondness for zucchini, really from before i can remember. my love is quite credible because zucchini may be the most versatile vegetable. pasta, stir-fries, rice bowls, various entrees, or even fried...

currently i am obsessed with zucchini in it's best form-- dessert.  it all started a few weeks ago when i made zucchini cobbler. you may scoff but have you ever had zucchini cobbler? don't be so quick to say no-- you just might have, only you thought it was apple. it is almost eerie how similar it tastes to apple cobbler but after you get over the initial weirdness your tastebuds are high-jacked and you forget you're eating vegetables. mmmm.

when co-workers brought in grandiose zucchinis from their gardens this week, what was a girl to do but take them home?

i made the tried-and-true zucchini bread recipe from my momma, which was as wonderful as my childhood memories.  after the loaves and muffins vanished (magic, i tell you), i had extra zucchini.... darn. clearly i had to keep going-- so i made zucchini chocolate cake.  diiiiivine, and probably the moist-est (is that a word?) chocolate cake ever. that also evaporated when i took it into work-- the men were nearly begging for the recipe for their wives to make. hah!

next up is zucchini cupcakes with a caramel brown sugar frosting. oh, i can hardly wait!