Sunday, November 16, 2014

Cramming for the upcoming holidays

The holidays have never meant much to me.
When I worked retail - I was happy to pull a 10 hour shift. The time flew with the crazies, although the 4 am start wasn't anything to leap for joy about.

I'm going to be gone this holiday season though. And it's hitting me harder than I thought it would.
People are posting their open invites for Thanksgiving, and there are more than a couple that I would have loved to attend.
Leaving makes me realize how much I love my friends.
If I can build that here - then I need to have faith that I can do that wherever I land. That's a lot to believe in, and sustained belief.

To take care of some things for me, and for my family, I'm pre-loading the holidays.

I made cookies. Peanut butter oatmeal chocolate chip. Yum. I ate 3 of them and I've pretty much filled my quota for cookies. Good thing I have friends!

My mom was lovely enough to bring Thanksgiving to me last weekend. She packed up the crock-pot, brought my beloved jellied cranberry sauce (can-shaped of course), and mashed pounds of potatoes. They drove down to Minneapolis, and I was able to invite friends to share as well. It was lovely, and after enjoying a final hit of pumpkin pie, and bundling my parents back up to the North, R1 (former roommate and all around badass) lit a fire in the backyard fire pit. It was a beautiful version of the holiday.

I got to wrap up a gift for my mom yesterday. It's all a surprise but it feels all warm and tingly to know that even while I'm so far away that they'll have something from me here.

Just a little taste of the holidays while the snow flies for me. Sending me off with a good 6 inches and a final kick in the snow pants.


Saturday, November 15, 2014

You Are Allowed

I found this today. Some of the statements vibrate at my same frequency. Read through them and see if it's the same. If you like what you read - take a look at Mara Glatzel's website:

you are allowed

OCTOBER 23, 2014
You are allowed to rest.
You are allowed to go through the effort of going to the store, buying the ingredients, and spending time cooking your favorite meal… even if you’re the only one there to eat it.
You are allowed to prefer the company of people who lift you up to those that drag you down.
You are allowed to cry.
You are allowed to believe in the magic of the moon and tide and seasons.
You are allowed to be wildly sexy… even if you aren’t “skinny” or “hot” or “perfect.”
You are allowed to be unproductive or to delve into something utterly “useless” that delights your spirit.
You are allowed to not have it all figured out.
You are allowed to be selfish, and not just this once
You are allowed to be imperfect. To show up messy. To feel vulnerable when a perceived flaw is revealed.
You are allowed to want your coffee a certain way. (Brewed dark with dollops of coconut cream, thank you very much.) And, you are allowed to be absurdly weird about the mug that you drink your coffee out of.
You are allowed to buy yourself really nice sheets to sleep in every night.
You are allowed to like succulents and flower crowns, even when they are painfully on trend and you’d really like to pretend you are too cool for them.
You are allowed to be uncool.
You are allowed to curate your life as if it is your greatest masterpiece. It is.
You are allowed to throw away all of the underwear in your drawer that has holes in it.
You are allowed to shine brightly, even it it is intimidating to someone else or makes them jealous.
You are allowed to be unendingly specific as you attend to the details of what is around you.
You are allowed to say no. To change your mind. To realize mid-process that something isn’t right for you.
You are allowed to recalibrate your course at a moment’s notice.
You are allowed to choose what you make things mean.
You are allowed to have a bad day. 
You are allowed to be ridiculously happy, even if everyone around you is struggling.
You are allowed to be too much. To be irrational. To be highly sensitive.
You are allowed to ask for what you need.
You are allowed to have needs. 
You are allowed to love yourself, bravely, no matter what.
You are allowed to make up your own mind about what you’d like to do – without asking anyone else.
You are allowed to make mistakes.
You are allowed to be deliciously, ridiculously, and messily human.

Friday, November 14, 2014

From the blog'osphere to book'osphere

I have been rambling around the internet and blogs for the last year.

I found this little number and I think that EVERYONE SHOULD RUN OUT AND BEG, STEAL, OR BORROW THIS BOOK ==> Adulting How To Become A Grown-Up In 468 Easy-ISH Steps
by Kelly Williams Brown.

Mic drop.

She started as a blog and has made adulthood just that much easier and a whole lotta more entertaining.
One of my favorite easy-ish steps is #188

She is SO right. How often do you do this? Stop it. You're worth the compliment. And so is someone else. If you have something nice to say - then say it. You better believe that when people don't have something nice to say - they feel no desire to stifle that. It works both ways, and the world could always use more kindness.


Thursday, November 13, 2014

How to teach grammar like a boss

This website is fantastic. Purdue OWL

Don't make grammar more difficult than you have to because often other people have done the heavy lifting for you!

Why are banks so effing unhelpful and frustrating?

[insert rant here]

No one else needs the specifics but it's a pain in the ass to be sure!


Tuesday, November 11, 2014

So many things that I didn't know! Grammar for smarter than your average dummy

English is hard. Terribly, terribly bastardized and convoluted.
Makes no sense except in use.

I thank my lucky stars regularly that I learned English as a primary language, and never had to make sense of it as an adult.
Learning French from middle school on, and more recently Spanish has helped to improve my English but we can all use a little help...

My favorite from the list is:
  • The singular of biceps is biceps; the singular of triceps is triceps. There’s no such thing as a bicep; there’s no such thing as a tricep.
Although I think that I might still get this wrong regularly:
  • He stayed awhile; he stayed for a while.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Being larger than you are

 "I firmly believe in small gestures: pay for their coffee, hold the door for strangers, over tip, smile or try to be kind even when you don’t feel like it, pay compliments, chase the kid’s runaway ball down the sidewalk and throw it back to him, try to be larger than you are— particularly when it’s difficult. People do notice, people appreciate. I appreciate it when it’s done to me. Small gestures can be an effort, or actually go against our grain (I’m not a big one for paying compliments), but the irony is that almost every time you make them, you feel better about yourself. For a moment life suddenly feels lighter, a bit more Gene Kelly dancing in the rain." — Jonathan Carroll