Wednesday, January 23, 2013

A full voice mail inbox.

My cell phone likes to make me listen to all my old voice mails before I can get to the newest one. I have hit save on certain messages probably hundreds of times, but it still makes me re-save them regularly.

Today I was checking a voice mail from the man who will be my boss starting tomorrow. It was a fairly straight forward message about what to expect tomorrow, and to give him a call back if I had any questions. But to get to this simple message, I had to listen through about ten other messages first.

I have messages saved from old friends who called from their deployments, or called when they got back from deployment and were lonely and just needed someone to listen
.
I have messages from the boyfriend telling me he missed me when he was out of town. 

I have messages from drunk friends that were sent in the middle of the night that will need to be saved for blackmail possibility, or just for some good laughs.

And today when listening to a new voice mail, I came across one from my dad on my birthday this last year. It made me just so, so happy.

I don't know why I feel like I need to save them for so long.  
Partially it is so I can hear the voices of the people I love whenever I want. 
Partially it is to remember where I was and what was happening at those times. 
But that doesn't entirely make sense, because everyone who I have a message saved from is someone that I could call at any time, day or night, and they would be there for me. They would talk to me if I was feeling sad, or hopeless, or if I just wanted to say hi.

So maybe, just maybe, it is for the warm fuzzy feeling I get from knowing every time I get a new voice mail, I will be reminded of the people I love, 
and that they love me.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Last day of customer service!

I am having  very conflicting emotions today.

It is the last day of my job where I have worked for almost the last three years. When you're only 23, that feels like practically your entire life.

It is where I made so many friends, and so many memories. I intend to keep as many of those friends as I can, because they are really great people.

It is where I have learned how to be a better employee, and how to take professional constructive criticism.

I am leaving on my own accord, to move on to a job that is more in line with where I want my career to go, but that doesn't mean that I'm not a little bit sad. And it doesn't mean that I am not apprehensive. I know everything about my current job. There isn't a problem that a coworker or employee can bring to me that I don't know how to handle, or who to call to get it handled. 

And now I will be starting over. I won't know anything. The new job isn't even in the same realm as the old one.

My new job starts Thursday and it will look great on my resume. Hopefully it will teach me even more than the last three years have. Hopefully it will open doors to places that I have always wanted my life to go.

If nothing else, it will leave me with some crazy stories.

And even more exciting than that? I don't have to deal with customers anymore! If you have ever worked in any form of customer service, you know what a relief that will be.



I guess, if nothing else I am kicking butt at my New Year's Resolution to stop being so stagnant. And a little bit on the trying to be more fearless resolution, as well.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Braised Turkey

Day fourteen of January Blog A Day: Food.


I love food. I love to make it, I love to eat it. 
Some people eat to live, just as the fuel their bodies need to get through life, but that isn't me. 

I live to eat.

I'm sure part of that is my upbringing. I grew up in a family where providing and preparing a meal for someone was the ultimate way of showing that you loved them. My dad would spend hours making us just the perfect dinner, and then packing our lunches for the next day. Our house was never short on food, or on love.

Part of the reason that I started this blog was to blog about food, about recipes, about products I found that I love, about new foods that I discovered. I know that for that to ever actually be successful, I will need a new camera, but I promise I'm working on that. Unfortunately, I don't have it yet, so this recipe was all shot on my 4 year old point and shoot Olympus. Also, this was my first time ever trying to photograph my food and it is quite obvious that I have a lot to learn.

Also, there is no natural light in my kitchen, so I'm not positive what I'm going to do about that!

On to the food!


This recipe is from America's Test Kitchen, but getting it off of their website sometimes requires creating a login, so I will post it here as well.

I know that most people are turkey-d out by this time of year, but the company I currently work for gives out turkeys as part of our Christmas bonus. I think this is silly, because most people eat turkey for Thanksgiving, but they choose to give us whole turkeys in late December. So this is what I decided to do with this year's turkey!

What you will need:

 Salt and pepper
1 cup sugar
1 (5- to 7-pound) whole bone-in turkey breast, trimmed
4 pounds turkey drumsticks and thighs, trimmed
3 onions, chopped
3 celery ribs, chopped
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
6 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
2 bay leaves
6 sprigs fresh thyme
6 sprigs fresh parsley
½ ounce dried porcini mushrooms, rinsed
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 cup dry white wine



 First things first, you need a giant container to brine your turkey parts in. I used this massive 16 quart pot, because I was going to use it to make the turkey stock with the leftover parts. That will be another post though!





You will want to dissolve 1 cup salt and 1 cup sugar into 2 gallons of cold water. Then submerge your whole bone in turkey breast and drumsticks and thighs. Cover, refrigerate, and brine these for three to six hours.

Toward the end of the brine time, adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat oven to 500 degrees. 
Then get to chopping your vegetables!





Remove turkey from brine and pat dry with paper towels. 




Toss onions, celery, carrots, garlic, bay leaves, thyme, parsley, porcini, and 2 tablespoons butter in large roasting pan; arrange in even layer.




 Brush turkey pieces with remaining 2 tablespoons butter and season with pepper. Place turkey pieces, skin side up, over vegetables, leaving at least ¼ inch between pieces. 




Roast until skin is lightly browned, about 20 minutes.




Remove pan from oven and reduce temperature to 325 degrees. Pour broth and wine around turkey pieces (it should come about three-quarters of way up legs and thighs). 

Place 12 by 16-inch piece of parchment paper over turkey pieces. Cover roasting pan tightly with aluminum foil. Return covered roasting pan to oven and cook until breasts register 160 degrees and thighs register 175 degrees, 1¾ to 2¼ hours. Transfer turkey to carving board, tent loosely with foil, and let rest for 20 minutes.




The recipe goes on to make a gravy, but I did not choose to do that this time. After you remove the turkey pieces from the pan, there will be a whole lot of broth and vegetables left in there. Strain the broth out and either use it to make gravy, or use it to help out your turkey broth that you will make with the back and wings of the turkey. There is so much deliciousness in there that you simply cannot just throw it away. The vegetables though, those can be tossed at this point. They have served their purpose in life.





Yes, I did use a hot pink cutting board to carve this turkey. 

I served this amazing turkey with a whole bunch of roasted root vegetables. There were carrots, parsnips, sweet potatoes, and onions.







I hope you enjoy!

And that my pictures were not too horribly terrible.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Top ten reasons I don't want a traditional wedding.

I have been a bad blogger. I have skipped a couple days of the January link up I've been doing. First, I didn't really know what to post about for memory, and then I lost my momentum. I might try to play catch up and still post about the missed topics. I might not. No promises. No promises means no expectations, which means I can't disappoint, right :)

Anyway, this is day thirteen of January Blog A Day: Top ten.

My very good friend Emily recently got engaged (Yayyyy Emily!!) and I have been going with her to look at venues and today we went to The Wedding Fair at Cornhusker Marriott Hotel. Way back in the day, I used to work at a store that rented tuxes for weddings, so I had to work a couple bridal fairs then. It was interesting to be on the other side of the booths this time, but it also did make me think twice about the giveaways and specials that companies were offering. I know that when the company I worked for presented "specials" for bridal shows, they really were not very special at all.

Since being there with Emily while people talked numbers about wedding details, I have been fairly well convinced that a traditional wedding is not for me. I had been leaning in that direction beforehand, but this has really cemented it for me. This is my top ten reasons that having a traditional wedding terrifies me.


All of this comes with the disclaimer that I am not judging anyone else or their wedding or their ideas, this is purely talking about me and my delusions. 
Also, I am not just as scared of the world as this may make me seem. 

Or am I?


Number One: The freaking cost of it all.

I know weddings can be beautiful and a great celebration and all the funs. But you know what else $20,000 can do and can be all those things? A down payment on a house. A super amazing honeymoon where you backpack through Europe, or spend all your time on a beach with people bringing you umbrella drinks in your cabana. That kind of money just seems like it should be spent on more than one day to me.


Number Two: Planning all the little details without losing my mind.

Many women have very long engagements. There is plenty of time to figure out arrangements and change minds about details. But that does not prevent them from losing their minds during the process. There are so many tiny little details to handle and decide on that I have no idea how anyone plans their wedding while doing anything else with their life at the same time. It's just all so overwhelming! Just helping to begin to plan Emily's wedding is already killing me.


Number Three: Offending friends and family.

My family is a lot. They are a lot to handle. We are over the top. But that means that we are happy over the top, we love over the top, we celebrate over the top. We don't hold back. I come from a very Danish family, and by Danish, I mean Viking. Think of the big burly men on the ships who drank pitchers of ale and sang rowdy sea shanties and cheered so loudly it rocked the boat. That was my upbringing. Those were my people.
Boyfriend, on the other hand, comes from a reserved, conservative, keep your feelings to yourself background.

I assume I don't need to say any more for you to understand the disaster that mixing these two groups could be.

This could lead to a lot of awkwardness and judgement that I just don't want to deal with.


Number Four: Finding the dress.

Today at the bridal show, there were many bridal salons that brought dress samples to their booths. They were.... Interesting. I already felt like picking the one dress that you will wear for your wedding, to be given away, to start your new life, to become a Mrs somebody, to be photographed and hung on your living room wall for the rest of eternity, should be a special dress. And what if you get it wrong?
But looking at the gowns that shops brought to be displayed scared me even more. Because they were bad. They had see through bodices. And weird curly ribbon details on the entire skirt. And stripes. If that is what is offered as far as wedding dresses then I am even more screwed on picking one that I originally thought.


Number Five: Putting on the show.

When it is your wedding there, theoretically everyone is there to celebrate you. But really, they are there to watch you.
There to watch you perform.
The idea of putting on the performance that a wedding turns out to be is so scary to me. From the ceremony where you have to say your vows, super personal life long promises to the person that you love and the God that you believe in, to the receiving line where you have to remember your spouse's great aunt's second husband's name, to the reception where you have to have your first dance in front of a crowd, to the dinner where the food has to be good and the ambiance has to be romantic.... It is all one big show to be put on.
I just want the vows and the dance. That is all.


Number Six: The awkward people that you have to invite.

Everyone has them. The person that your parents insist that you invite to your wedding, so as to not burn bridges with them. You don't particularly care for them, if you even know them at all, but they are someone important to your parents, so you have to invite them to the most personal day of your life (exceptions being possibly for childbirth. Hopefully your parents don't insist on randoms being there for that whole situation). Which leads us to...


Number Seven: The drunk person you know will be there.

If there is alcohol served at your reception, there will undoubtedly be someone there who gets a little too wastey faced. They will be the one who became besties with the bartender and brought way too much money for the cash bar. They will cause a scene, they will try to make a toast, and they will embarrass everyone who knows them. Which might not even be you, even though it is your wedding, and they will be what most people remember.


Number Eight: Disasters.

I know disasters can always happen, every day. And I truly do not live my life afraid of them, because they are unpreventable, unlike polar bears.
But on a day where you are supposed to have everything handled, then they are scary. I have always seen myself getting married in the winter, and I have always lived in climates where winter = snow. So a snow storm that prevented people I loved from getting to the celebration is a worry. Your officiant getting sick and not having anyone to marry you... What do you even do then? There are just so many little details riding on one day!


Number Nine: My looks, and my skin in specific.

My skin is horrible. I don't mean in an adult acne or scars kind of way. I mean in the kind of way where it is always inflamed and always a rash, and always painful. And not on places like my stomach. It is on my face, and my chest, and my arms. I have an autoimmune disorder that one of the symptoms basically boils down to my skin always looking like I am sick.
To even consider the amount of my skin as exposed as a wedding dress would require, under bright lights, in front of the majority of the people I know, photographed for all eternity, makes me want to crawl in a hole and die.
Maybe I will talk about this more in depth later... But it really is horrible.


Well, I guess I really only have nine. So I am breaking the rules after skipping days. I'm a rebel blogger.

In short, if this was too long and you did not read it....

I want a marriage, and not necessarily a wedding. Weddings scare me.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Inside a scary, scary place.

Day nine of January Blog A Day: Made with Love


Yesterday while trying to come up with something to write about for the honesty topic, I texted the boyfriend for ideas and inspiration.

He managed to come back with the best and strangest responses ever. His idea was that I should share interesting facts about myself. He then proceeded to make up some really bizarre facts that I will turn into one of those "Five Lies and a Truth" game. It will be the easiest game you have ever played.




Cascada is my favorite musician of all time.



My favorite movie is iRobot just for the one scene where Will Smith is in the shower.



I have an irrational fear of joint dislocation and that's why I will never pull someone's finger when they ask.



I have a boyfriend who is amazing at generating random untrue facts.



I see Battlestar Galactica as one of the epic romances of our generation.



I developed my own pronunciation for the symbol that Prince became for a while, but one fifth of it involved the sloshing in your belly that occurs after you drink too much water, so no one has ever heard the full thing.


When I asked him where he comes up with this stuff, his response? "My brain is a weird place."


I wish I was more weirded out by this text message exchange than I was. But unfortunately, I wasn't even phased. Especially because these things were made with love.


So what's your guess? Which one do you think is the truth?



Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Pinterest induced jealousy.

Day eight of January Blog A Day: Honesty


Honestly, Pinterest makes me kind of sad. That's not to say that I don't love it a little bit lot. Pinterest and I have a dysfunctional relationship where I keep going back to it because everything is so pretty, but it just slaps me in the face with how much I will never have those beautiful kitchens, or that no heat hair style, and I will certainly never learn to be crafty or do my nails successfully.


Look at how amazing this is. That backsplash, those lights, that adorable little booth in the kitchen. Who has a booth in their kitchen?? Not this girl. And realistically, I probably never will. But Pinterest has shown me that this is what my house must look like.











And every single home ever should have one of these. Who needs empty inside the wall space when you could be using that to store wine?

Now the house dreams could one day become a reality. That day will only come when I have the money to hire an interior designer and a maid though. Getting my hair and nails to look like those girls though? That is only going to happen when pigs fly. My hair and nails just weren't born to be this glamorous.

   


And don't even get me started on how no matter what I do, my wedding would never ever hold a candle to those fairy tale dream picture perfect weddings on there...


Is that even real life?





But thankfully, the food and the recipes on there don't make me feel bad at all.
First, I am a pretty darn great cook. Give me a recipe (or even don't) and I can make you something delicious.
Second, so many of those recipes look disgusting. Cream of everything soup and shredded cheese do not a meal make.

I would share my gift with you, but food is day fourteen!





Monday, January 7, 2013

Bad feet decisions

Day seven of January Blog A Day: Shoes


I know most girls have an unnecessary amount of shoes. And I am certainly not an exception to that rule. The thing that sets me apart is I buy the most ridiculous shoes... And then I really do wear them. I'm very lucky that in my apartment I have pretty much a whole closet devoted to my shoes. It doesn't hold them all, but it sure does try.



So... Yea.  That top shelf you can see? Yes, it does have four pairs of cowboy boots on it. Do I need that many? Not a chance. But there was a shop in Nashville that offered a buy one get two free sale. You know I couldn't walk away from that. And the fourth pair is from Montana. So at least all my cowboy boots are from states where there really are cowboys!



As you can see, I have a problem.



And then there are these. These are bright red pumps that are at least five inches tall and the sole on the front of them is not flat on the ground when you are standing. That makes them reeeeal easy to walk in. But no worries, I still felt that they were acceptable to wear to a wedding. A wedding where the bride, groom, and majority of the wedding party was all home schooled back in the day. Let's just say that even though my dress was conservative, people were still ushering their children away from me.





Halloween one year, I was Pepper Potts and the boyfriend was Iron Man. We could not take a good picture together for the life of us. But my zebra print shoes sure were snazzy. 


And then, since I missed yesterday's topic of embarrassment, I will show you this delight.


That is a picture of my feet in a coworkers office. Because I wore mismatched shoes to work and I did not realize it until like an hour after I got there.





Saturday, January 5, 2013

Polar bears.

Day five of January Blog A Day: Biggest Fear 

I promise that you don't have to tell me how ridiculous this fear is, or how much I need to just get over it, or how it's just plain ludicrous... You don't need to tell me that because every person who has ever heard me talk about these great white beasts has told me how crazy I am.

But polar bears scare the crap out of me.




Googling polar bears and looking at these pictures long enough to pick some made me break out in a cold sweat. I may never recover.

I will probably be murdered by a polar bear. It will hunt me down and rip my face off for fun.

Nice visual, huh? That's exactly what runs through my mind every time I see out of these nasty beasts, whether it be a picture, or at the zoo.


Oh, I just can't.




If I was this girl, I would be having a heart attack.

Polar bears may seem cute sometimes, especially when they are babies. But they only seem sweet because their mouths aren't big enough to do any real damage yet.

But they still try.


If that bear's mouth was big enough, that man would no longer have a leg.


When I was probably 3 years old, my family went to the zoo. The polar bear exhibit was down in a big cement pit, and to look into it from the side we were on, you had to look over a cement wall. It was probably 4 feet tall, and I was probably only 3 feet tall. My dad, the wonderful, loving man that he is, decided he would help me observe the polar bears.

Mind you, my dad is a big, strong, brick house of a man. And I was barely more than a baby. So picking me up was absolutely within the range or reasonable things to do, and he kept complete control over me during everything that was about to happen.

So. He lifted me up and over his head so I was sitting on his shoulders. While he was doing this, apparently the polar bear in the exhibit had wandered over to the very edge that we were at. Which meant that for me to see the beast, my dad had to lean forward a little bit. With me on his shoulders. You know the moment when your momentum changes and that dropping feeling in the pit of your stomach? It's similar to the very first drop from the top of a roller coaster. I'm not sure that I had ever felt that before, but I did then. 
And then I looked down at the polar bear. 
And it was looking up at me, 
smelling the air.


And I lost my mind.


I started wiggling (SO dumb) and crying and throwing a fit and hyperventilating.

I was so completely and utterly convinced that the polar bear was sniffing the air because it was going to hunt me down. It was going to grow gadget legs and leap up out of the exhibit and steal me right off my dad's shoulders.  And then it was going to torture me and eat me right there in front of all the other zoo attendees. My life would be over at the tender age of three, at the vicious paws of a murderous beast.

Let's just say I still get that feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I'm still sure the polar bear is going to kill me dead, every single time I see even a picture of one. 

So getting over the fear of finding pictures for the post is going to definitely require some wine. Drown the polar bear pictures in wine.


Friday, January 4, 2013

Supposably Irregardless.

Day four of January Blog A Day: Pet Peeves


I'm not an English major. English classes in college made me cry a little bit on the inside because I abhorred them so much. I really have to sit through this THREE times this week?? Just so, so, so awful. But don't take that to mean that I don't love grammar and proper spelling to almost inappropriate levels.

I do believe that some people are naturally better spellers than others. When I was little bitty, my dad would help me study for my spelling tests for school every single week. I don't think a word actually stumped me until at least sixth grade. And that would end up being a very embarrassing moment for me because it was a spelling bee that was broadcast to the whole school. Look, I was 10. I didn't know what on earth a "fiscal" was. But you better believe that I will never spell it wrong ever again.



There are some words (we'll call them that for the sake of argument, even though some of them are NOT words) that make my skin crawl.

Supposably
Irregardless
Pacific (when not referring to the ocean)
Melk (MILK, people.)
The boyfriend can vouch for me at how much "melk" bothers me.
 He says it fairly often just to mess with me. He thinks he is funny, Ace and I vote that he is not.
Conversate
Ginormous





I'm polite enough that I pretty much never say anything in the moment that someone uses these words, but sometimes I just can't hide the physical shudder that it causes.

So please, please, for the love of the English language, please don't use any of the above words.


Thursday, January 3, 2013

Bucket list for #JanBlogADay

Day Three: Bucket List.


Again, I am trying to keep up with the link up Katrina over at Sota is Sexy is doing in January. Because she is right, January can get kinda boring.

I know that "bucket list" is supposed to refer to things you want to do before you kick the bucket, but truthfully, I think that reference is kind off putting. And bucket is a really strange word. Just say it out loud real quickly. 
Bucket.
Bucket.
Bucket.

I don't like it. I do, however, like the idea of having a list off things you want to accomplish before you.... are done accomplishing things. Before you drift off peacefully in your sleep, or are mauled to death by tigers. I've always thought going out with a bang would be way more interesting, hence the tiger eating you reference. See? The term bucket list just makes conversations go such strange places.

The List:

1. Be happy the vast majority of my days.
2. Get another little dog friend for Ace. Preferably an engagement puppy.
3. Spend at least part of the holiday season in New York City.
4. Drink Bordeaux in Bordeaux.
5. Hike along the Great Wall in China.
6. Have a career that I find interesting and fulfilling.
7. Always stay friends with my dad.
8. Play with a tiger without it eating me.
9. Live in the middle of a booming metropolis.
10. After that, live on an acreage just outside of a decent sized city.
11. Get married to the man of my dreams.
12. Own a home.
13. Learn how to decorate my home without it looking ridiculous.
14. Grow my own herbs and vegetables.
15. Learn how to apply makeup successfully.
16. Learn Arabic.
17. Go skydiving.
18. Run a half marathon.
19. See at least 3 of the Great Wonders of the world.
20. Go to the Calgary Stampede.


Alright, that's enough dreaming for today. It's just making my current life look so sad.


Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Two.

The topic for January Blog a Day #JanBlogADay is two... That's awfully vague, isn't it?




Two as in a pair of something? A pair of people, maybe. But I feel like days 16 and 25 cover that. A pair of digits, like feet? But day seven is supposed to be all about shoes so that seems covered.

I truly have no idea where to go with two. So here are two of my favorite videos from the weird part of the internet. 

You are welcome.





Jenna Marbles is amazing. I'm super upset that she and Max No Sleeves broke up because that's going to make it quite awkward when she and I become best friends and we still have to double date with him and my manfriend.


Second is someone else that I want to be best friends with, Hannah Hart. Maybe now that I have this blog they will like me and we can be internet friends and it can be not weird.... Or not even close to that at all. Because this paragraph sure wont make anyone want to be my friend. Must stop typing.



Her mimosa recipe is so spot on. I've never seen a recipe quite so masterfully developed and executed.


Now you all can judge me that I just picked two videos of drunk girls. I'm not sorry, I just went with what I know.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Day One.

Since I have observed that people need blog friends to make it here in this bloggy world, I will attempt this month to fit in. Although, I will not be trying to fit in with the Mormafia yet 
(so many cute little Mormon bloggers everywhere!) 
because I'm just nowhere near cute enough for them. Yet.
Or probably ever.

Also, this might help me to get started writing regularly without having to rack my brain for topics. And it might extend the amount of time before I just start writing about the weird part of the internet, or even worse, the weird part of my brain. It's a strange place in there.



Katrina over at 'Sota is Sexy was one of the first bloggers I read consistently, but don't tell her that because she doesn't know me from a cashier at her local Target. Ok, that probably isn't true because like all sane individuals she seems to love Target, so she would realize I didn't work there. And maybe she would like that I read her blog anonymously. I don't know, I'm still trying to figure out the rules for all this.

 Anyway, Katrina now lives in small town Minnesota, which is a wonderful state where wonderful people such as myself were born and raised. I didn't live in a small town, I came from the Twin Cities, but my grandpa sure lives outside a small town in northern Minnesota and I love it there. So, since we have that in common, and we both love our dogs and Target, that means we should be best friends, right? Right.





Day One: New!

This is day one of 2013. 
I know it is just another Tuesday in the grand scheme of things, but people love the idea 
of fresh starts, 
of leaving the past behind, 
of brand new days, months, years.

I've never been one for New Year's resolutions.
 I truly don't think that I have ever written down a resolution before. So that makes sense that my first attempt should be publicized on the internet for all of eternity, don't you think? 

Alright, no. That makes no sense at all. 
But that's the way my life has been going. Off the rails, making no sense, and not where I want it at all.

2013 will be the year where I take my life back. I will stop just floating along in a daze and I will take control.



Resolution One:  
Stop being scared. 
I used to be such a fearless little kid. I was scared of nothing. My sister and I once went out across a field to investigate a bear. A bear. A seriously full grown bear. But we had a stick and a frisbee, so we were good. I want to be like that again. I want to trust in myself like I did before the world kicked me down. And before I allowed myself to stay down. 
I know the strength to do this is in me, I know that it is actually a great attribute of mine, I just need to grab the horse by the reins and chase down the bears again. Probably not literally this time. 


Resolution Two: 
Lose weight. 
I know, I know, how stereotypical. But truthfully, I don't look like myself, I don't feel like myself, I don't like this version of me. So I will change it from the inside out. I want to be me again. And we can even say it's for my health, because it partially is. I might even blog about some of my workout successes and fails, and I absolutely will blog about food. I love food. But darnit, that's part of what made this a necessary resolution.


Resolution Three: 
Keep moving forward. 
This year I have been so stagnant. I haven't made near enough moves to make my life better because I really have just been floating. I have been getting by with the least effort I can and I am ashamed of that. I haven't been in a good place in my own head and that translated into just.... hovering. So this year I will make moves and take steps to get my life back on track, and hopefully even get things moving back toward the grand life goals.


Resolution Four:
Try to accept that I still live in Nebraska.
Nebraska is not where I belong. I am not happy here, I don't fit in here, I don't thrive here. The last five years since I have lived here have sucked the sparkle and shine right out of me. But it needs to be the layover place for just a little bit longer. I have realistic dreams and plans to live somewhere bigger, more urban, more open minded, and more fantastic, but they have to wait just a little longer while I get myself together.




I'm done with boring. I'm ready for so much more.