Hi'Ya Neighbor!

The girl I share a wall with is not home often. When she is home, she blasts loud Showtunes and stomps around like she's wearing combat boots. I have told her twice to turn down her music. The woman downstairs has asked her nicely too. I'm starting to think she either has a hearing aid that prevents her from enjoying music at a normal level or that I am going to have to get nasty. I have banged on our shared wall with a stiletto. The sound quickly abated. However, further steps may need to be taken. Here's what I have thought of:

 Dear Amber,

   If you do not stop playing your awful iTune Playlists, I will rub my bare ass on your front door.

      xoxo,

       Me.    

Strawberry Pie and Reflection

 What a full weekend it's been. Yesterday morning I had a breakfast date with a coworker and in the evening a girl from church called for a sushi date. Both conversations were so much fun and very encouraging. It's been really important to me to make connections in MarriedMecca and both women are uber entertaining. It's also nice that I'm getting past the boring Small Talk that you're obligated to do when making a new friend. I HATE that portion of conversations.You might as well ask someone how their nailbeds are doing or which toothpaste they like. Yawn. 


 Church today was great. I have really enjoyed the pastor's sermons and I actually become sad if I can't make church on a given Sunday. Today's message was about Exodus and not bending the Bible to fit your lifestyle. I don't think I do this (often), but it was insightful and humorous and I thought of a person I wanted to share it with, but I'm worried I'll be accused of hypocrisy. 


 I'm also warring a battle against this damn strawberry pie I'm suppose to be making for a church brunch. I can't stop burning the pie tins! It has the directions ON THE BOX and I've destroyed 2 of them. Who does that??? 

This is not rando- Beehive!

***Laying on my porch in the sunshine with the blue sky above; Reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of AzkaBOOM for the hundredth time. Lupin is such a hottie.  

Pet Peeve: When people post EVERYTHING they eat on Facebook. Gurl please, ain't nobody wanna see that you ate crusty pudding and a Starbucks for Lunch. And we really don't want to see your janky noodle and tuna dish that look like it came out of a middle school cafeteria served up by the creeper lady from Matilda.

 Yes, I am aware my pet peeve contains urban jargon and improper grammer.

Maybe you should try acting like an adult.

Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other.  Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.  ~Katharine Hepburn

It's true.

This music video made me tear up. I don't know what's wrong with me.

Cranberry Sauce Should Never Come from a Can.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving here in the States. It's a holiday commonly associated with turkeys and overeating. It's suppose to be a day of counting your blessings, but with the rise of consumerism, sometimes that message gets lost in all the advertisements for Black Friday (google it).


I love Thanksgiving because I see my family. It's cheesy, but I love it. Every Thanksgiving is essentially the same. We load up the car and haul over to my cousin's house. Her mom makes a salad while my uncle critiques the cooking process from the living room couch, beer in hand. My dad slaves over the oven for hours and only answers direct questions related to food or football. My hormonal teenage cousin ignores all of us and texts on her cellphone. I socialize with everyone and create a plan on how to avoid eating too much (plan fails every year). My sister can be found eyeing the clock every five minutes, counting down the time till we leave. My mother flits around the house documenting each moment with her camera and forces anyone breathing to smile and "ACT HAPPY!". My older cousin will not make an appearance till she  has her makeup on and has been warned that the food is hitting the table in 5 minutes whether she's wearing mascara or not. We sit and eat and talk. Later we fight over leftovers since both my twiggy cousins can out-eat grown men. And that is why I love this Holiday. It's not glamorous or chic or exciting, it's just my family. 

The Body is Not a Cold Dead Place

 Sometimes when I get stressed or just need a second to myself, I close my eyes and go to the blue room. It's this silly coping exercise I learned when I was younger, but sometimes it still makes me feel good when I'm having a moment. I close my eyes. My happy place is a little room that has one window that overlooks a European city. I'm not sure where, but the street below that window is cobblestone and little houses run up and down the street. People walk along the pavement and a boy on a bicycle passes. The walls in my room are jazz blue and there's bookshelves along the left and right walls. There's also a beat up couch and a desk that I sit at. The room's door is across from the door that leads to the kitchen. Our kitchen has black and white tile and there is always a dark haired man making me a cup of coffee in there. I watch the city below and eventually a dark haired toddler comes and sits on my lap. We watch the city together and I point out interesting things. It peaces me out, this totally made up scenario. Maybe one day it will be true.

And in the Spring, I shed my skin.

Okay, so the teaching job market in America is in the proverbial toilet. So this year I'm going to start researching teaching opportunities overseas for the Spring. I'm smart, funny, personable, and a damn good educator. I'm going to buy a book recommended by someone who did it. Then I'll go from there. I want to travel more than anything. I like culture and I like new experiences. I like the idea of going somewhere and being the minority. I'm going to do this. It's going to happen and this time next year hopefully I will be writing from somewhere not in the U.S.    

[Listening to Florence and the Machine. "Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up!) 

Froken Salander

Happy Tuesday! Well, I'm happy because today is my day off. 


Breakfast Juice: 1 beet, a handful of strawberries, 3 Fuji apples (and half a pint of toffee carmel icecream). Sugar overload.


During the summer season, I try to read as many books as I can get my hands on. I feel that I've slacked a little.


1. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. Everyone and their mother read this book last summer. And to my delight, it is as good as people claimed. 


2. Second Glance by Jodi Picoult. Disappointed in this one. The last four books I've read by her I enjoyed, this one not so much.

3. A Discovery of Witches by Deborah E. Harkness. It's like Twilight, but smartly written with well-developed characters and an interesting plot. In essence, what Stephanie Meyer wishes she had written. 


4. Bossy Pants by Tina Fey. Honestly I haven't finished this one. It didn't catch my attention the way I thought it would.


5. City of Fallen Angels by Cassandra Clare. This is the fourth in a series. Don't bother reading it if you haven't read the first 3.


6. Vegan Freak by Bob and Jenna Torres. I love eating animals: steak, ribs, roasted chickens, ect. However, I'm also curious about the whole Vegan movement that seems so popular in Hollywood and environmental hipsters.

7. House Rules by Jodi Picoult. Excellent read for the summer. I especially loved this story because one of the main characters is a teen with Autism.

8. The Help by Kathryn Stockett. I would suggest reading this before the hits theaters this Fall. For whatever reason, I enjoy novel set around the 1960s.  

This is My Life.

I am 22 years old.
I graduated from The University of X in December 2010.
Now what do I do?

I feel my insecurities are not so uncommon.
Why not share them?

I have been graduated for two-ish months. I work minimum wage with spoiled children at Little Monsters Inc (not it's real name). I like my job and very thankful for the opportunity to work.

However, this gig is not a career maker. These two months are quickly going to turn into four, six, ect. Something must be done or I will become a lifer. I do not want my daily ritual to consist of wiping the baby puke from my cardigan or putting together a train set in as many intricate patterns as I can think of to amuse the kiddies.

But What I Really Want to Do is Save the World

I'm young and idealistic and single. Why can't I pack my bags, load a plane, and take off? Ah that's right, I take alternative medicine not commonly found in all areas of Europe, I have $ZZ,ooo in student loans, my mother would sob, ect. *Sigh*
Being a responsible citizen blows.

Marriage is not an Escape Plan at the Moment.

Despite popular belief, not every young lady is looking for a MRS. degree when she goes to university. I was clever. I studied hard and avoided unwanted pregnancies. I graduated with a 3.7 GPA, top marks, and accolades. Guess what?

Nobody cares. I have zero sense of where my life is taking me. I'm very unattached and yet I have pangs of envy over friends getting hitched. Do I want a ring? No. Would it be nice to have something resembling a road map to where my destiny is heading? Yes. Would it be even better if I had a passenger to take with me along for the ride and be there for me when I'm upset? [insert husband here] 
What I really need to do is make a list of what I want to accomplish and go from there. Next entry will be my list.

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