Monday's Ugly Sister

So it's Tuesday. Or I like to call it "not Friday". So basically it's yet another Monday. I'm starting to think that Tuesdays are worse than Mondays. On Monday you're all high off life and the weekend. I can sometimes trick myself into thinking it's all a bad dream. But Tuesday is another story. You've already come to terms that it's not a dream, and this is really your life and you have to endure three more days until it's finally the the weekend. Or I like to call it "paradise".
Work isn't so bad though, accept it keeps me busy. The act of being busy makes me mentally insane, due to having no time for reading, Parks and Recreations, napping, and lord forbid no blogging! Yet it's a paradox.
I love to busy myself because it stops my mind from its constant chatter, yet I hate being busy because I want to hear what this chatter is saying. Sometimes I need to indulge myself in my own thoughts, however dangerous and upsetting they may be. I haven't had time for that lately. Perhaps this is a good thing, I can never tell.
Yet what I do know is that not having time to read is slowly killing me. (I also become dramatic when I'm busy.) I feel as if I've been reading the same book all my life. Well it would make since considering it is 600 pages with the smallest font size known to man. I'm sure you have no interest in hearing about it, for I have little interest telling you. What you will learn is that it's entitled "The Winter Rose" and it is the final book in a trilogy I got myself wrapped up in three years ago. Now normally I would be all for 600 pages of drama and love and sacrifice, yet due to my having no time (have I mentioned how busy I am?) to read I couldn't wait for it to be over and for it to go back on my OCD bookshelf. ("Pride and Prejudice" next to "The Catcher in the Rye"?! Are you mad?!!)
So 17 years and 9 months later I finally finished the darn thing only to realize I haven't really updated this whole blog thing in a while.
Believe me, you haven't missed much......oh but wait...accept that YOU HAVE!
So I'm learning, quite rapidly, just how far nerd I have become. There is a scale. At birth you are in the middle of this scale- a neutral and blank slate. As you travel down this winding road we call life, you gradually move from left to right on this scale based on different life decisions. It's frightening how far right I have traveled. I honestly don't believe I ever moved left- nor was aware this was an option. Yet now I'm too far gone to ever go back.
So you must be wondering what in heavens name is causing me to think so inward?
I have two words for you.... "Cleavage Fest"...or if we are getting technical..."Renaissance Fair".

Oh yes, I can hear you groaning inwardly. For art thou not impressed? (Yes that doesn't make a smidge of since...don't worry about it.)

For the past year I have been planning my Renaissance time travel. Many things were considered, yet costume was at the top of this list. (Basically it's the only thing on the list.) It's that one time a year where I can dress up and prance around a ton of people and not be looked at in a judgmental way. It's like bizarro world. The nerds are the heroes. #worldDomination 

Yet this nerd was in all actuality an undercover princess, running away from her obligations and her betrothed. (Yes I had a backstory- is there a problem?)

This was my first of many more Renaissance fairs to come. My costume was inspired by years of dreaming and plotting how to run away and become a princess in a some far away land. For one whole day I could live it and it was magical. 

And although it takes all of me to post this picture...I suppose it's the right thing to do. I mean come on. It's pretty amazing and extravagant and impossible to beat. My friend here deserves major props for which I shall not give her, considering every other nerd at the fair noticed how amazing she looked. (I now have a goal for next year...Beat Hannah!) 

So I suppose that basically sums up my life- what little there is of it. Maybe I'll do something really worth writing about one day- like watch all 6 Star Wars movies in one day or really get around to making some kick- butt chili. Yet until then I'll keep you updated on my lack of adventures and incessant speeches on how I just want to read!!

Maybe a job on Craigslist could be posted- "Girl seeking reading companion- money is an option."

Then again...I do have some common since which is why I shall sarcastically post it on here. 

"Girl seeking reading companion to pay her to read books, to them, for them, etc. Money would be a big plus. Food an even bigger plus." 

And so begins a fated story that will soon appear on 20/20. 

"Can't Help Falling in Love" With Fall

Well I've finally done it.

 Years and years of my life have been culminating into this one glorious revelation. Perhaps THE most glorious revelation a person can muster the boldness to find. For it took years of analyzing, soul searching, and replaying so. Many. Songs!

But I did it.

I found my favorite song.

Of all time.

Of all the times.

And I’m quite surprised, albeit slightly embarrassed.

Yet isn’t this what this whole blog thingy is about? Revealing deep and intimate parts of myself for the general public. (Mental note: Why am I doing this again?) So I suppose this is one of the those moments where I had better just spill it, because I can just see you all on the edge of your seats. (By all, I am meant my Mother who I am sure is my only reader- Hi Mommy! Could you stop at the store and pick me up some food? Chinese please!) All in all I do believe this moment calls for a drum roll!

*Drum roll noise, drum roll noise, drum roll noise*​

​Elvis Presley I am extremely sorry for all the years of toilet jokes, mockery, vigorous hip shaking, and my taking advantage of the fascinating combination that is peanut butter and bananas (I really take it for granted.) Ever since I was a small child- which hasn't been very long ago I suppose- this song has always had the ability to make me dance no matter if I'm on the brink of tears or a mental breakdown. And that's what a theme song should do. It should play behind me every second of the day- comforting me with its slow rhythm and warm beat. 

Wanna know another thing that's comforting?

My 52 year old Father asking me to turn up the television...the television that is right now playing Pretty Little Liars. Oh yes I have turned my Dad into a teenage girl. And I love it! We now have very deep conversations on Caleb's new hair, whether we can trust Jenna, and of course who. Is! A! I sware this show has ruined me. I used to be a very mature and serious young woman, but now...let's just say I blame this darn show for all of my teenagerness. At least I don't own a thousand pair of Ugg boots...there's always that. 

Speaking of boots...because we should always be speaking of boots...because boots are the sweat pants for your feet. I wore some today! Wanna know why? Do ya? Do ya? Well I have some big news and that is that fall is on our doorstep. Oh yes, for us Kansans we are all pretty thrilled because it seems like our weather maybe, just maybe might be right on track. (I am now going to be in a constant prayer that I haven't just jinxed it.) 

Perhaps this is why I have completely lost all since of...what's the word...self control. I don't know what it is about cooler weather but I seem to completely lose my mind. I woke up today and ate so much peanut butter- but I didn't even care. When I got to work I pulled a prank on the nurse...a very serious woman that I highly respect BTW! And let me tell you I wasn't the only one completely thrilled about our new weather prospects. The kids were absolutely rambunctious. (I am now aware of how to use "rambunctious" in a sentence.) But I didn't even care because I was pretty rambunctious myself. (Have I said rambunctious enough? Rambunctious!) I found myself racing kindergarteners around the playground...full on racing too...not that "fast walking" crap! I layed those kids out. (Again, I have lost all self control.) 

At about 1 o'clock I crashed. And that's all I have to say about that. Work was work. I did work. I did work at work. The end.

And yes I am aware that this post has gone from Elvis Presley, to my teenage Father, and my ability to feel no shame at crushing small children's dreams. But I blame it on the weather. The glorious time of year where I can eat pie for every meal, get a nice layer of fat, whine about it come January, then eat more pie in self defeat. 

Oh yes, fall is a great time of year. 

I Smell Like a Burnt Doughnut

Have you ever woke up to the horrible thought that "today I have to be around people"? You have to talk to people, you have to look at people, you have to be nice to people, people, people, people. They  are everywhere. Have you noticed this? People. Are. Everywhere. There is no escaping them. You wake up- people. You leave your house- people. You go to bed- people. 

Today was one of those days. I dreaded having to get out of my cozy little bed and actually be a person. But I rallied. I woke up, made myself a breakfast of hot tea, snicker doodle cookies, and an apple. (I have to keep up my baker physique somehow.) Afterward I did my morning routine and headed to work- looking somewhat better than when I woke up. Yet I didn't want to go- my book was calling to me, so was my bed, and so was the box of graham crackers Mom just bought. The promise of money at the end of the week won me over though. 

Work was as expected. No surprises. I can't be surprised anymore by these kids. Today a little boy got a plastic ring stuck on his finger. And to no avail, the nurse and I tried to get it off. That sucker wasn't budging. To the hospital he went. I tried to lighten the moment...in my own special way. I reassured him he was only going to lose 1 finger...he still had 9 more. He didn't appreciate the humor. Kids!

After a day of dealing with stomach aches, spilt milk, unsafe swinging, reckless slide use, and many many ketchup packets it was time to go home. 

I do believe the phrase "time to go home" is the greatest use of the English language. 

When home I proceeded to sit my butt onto the couch and eat a plate full of my mom's ultimate graham crackers (graham crackers with peanut butter and chocolate chips. Nothing but gourmet in this house) and watch numerous episodes of PLL ( for which I am a little ashamed about...). I'm pretty sure this is the remedy for being around too many people- especially little people. 

Yet my resting was cut short...by responsibilities. I sure hate those...

Grandma Mills yard still needed some major help. 

So again, much like last week, Dad and I weed- eated (is that a term?), mowed, chopped, hammered, sawed, chuck-norrised the crap out of that yard. I find hard work so rewarding. Much like my Father, I thrive while being outside. My mind clears of all the nonsense it is fed throughout the day and fills with leaves and ladybugs and fresh air.

Yet one thing I know....with all my heart...is that some things about said nature will never calm me down. 

Like this "little" friend I made...

Keep in mind this fella was bascially the size of a one story building. Yet I may be exaggerating. I don't take spiders lightly. I kept an eye on Spider-Man here for fear it would hurl itself on me and eat my face off. (Graphic enough for you?) I was (am) that one kid at the pool with the the over active imagination..thinking that if I swam deep enough I would encounter a great white shark. So my mind had a field day when I saw this horrible 8 legged creature.

Bugs aside, Dad and I finished the job swimmingly. 

Which brings me to my heroic, volunteer firefighter, carrying a woman out of a burning building story. 

Except the woman I carried out a burning building was really a mini chocolate doughnut and nothing was on fire...yet! You see, Grandma Mills has a touch of the "old timers" and apparently this means she is prone to putting mini treats in the microwave and forgetting all about said treats. That is until she smells smoke and about scares Dad and I to death. Yet I was a hero. I located the source of the smoke, eradicated the burnt substance (which was a doughnut....at least I sure hope that's what it was), and saved my Grandma from burning her house down. 

So now I'm waiting for some sort of medal. 

Do they give those type of awards out? Like if I call congress will they send one over? Maybe I can order one off the internet...

So I suppose that's how my day went. 

People...they will find you...you can hide....yet they always find you. 

The Fault In My Decision Making

Have you ever trimmed a tree? 

If not, then you should. Right now. Run outside with a pair of sheers and go to town. It's actually more fun than it should be. Well, maybe it's just fun to me and my inner perfectionist. (Correction: my COMPLETE perfectionist.) No part of me is not a perfectionist. So this whole tree trimming thing was right up my ally. 

My Father and I worked in companionable silence as we trimmed my great Grandmother's trees, bushes, and shrubs. In the time it took for my Dad to trim three trees I did one. It could be that I was comparing my work with Edward Scissor-Hands and no amount of time would give me a t-Rex shrub. But I tried and I did end up with a very shrub looking shrub. As reward grandma Mils gave me a baby doll- yes I said baby doll. (Guess who's pillow it's going under tonight? Starts with M and ends in OM.)

I also enjoyed the work because I like the feeling of doing manual labor to show up the male population. Step it up fellas! 

Competitive? Me?! No! Never!

After my very methodical tree trimming, Dad and I decided against eating cereal for dinner and opted for Panera. It was a tough call...soggy cereal...warm and delicious soup...hm....

Now I am analyzing my mental state to see if I am up to watching a particular movie...entitled...

The Fault in Our Stars.

For all of you that are unfamiliar with this particular book and movie, I assume you are living a very happy life completely ignorant to the struggles of the rest of us. Yet all of you that have read this most terrible book and watched this most horrible movie know what I'm talking about. Curse you John Green!

Okay no, John Green is incredible. And this book is beautiful. And this movie is stupendous. And that is why I'm so stressed out about it. 

The Fault In Our Stars tells the tale of the unforgettable characters Hazel Grace and Augustus Waters. They both have cancer. And that's basically all I can say about that. (No I'm not crying... It's just allergies...gosh!)

So that's where I'm at right now. Holding this horribly horrible movie in my hand and just staring at its horrible cover. 

Decisions are hard. 

I think I'll just stay in the state of indecisiveness a little while longer. Guess i could grab myself something to eat while i do that. Yeah...this night calls for more food. 

Missing My Childhood- Remembering Children are Monsters

I suppose I shouldn't miss my childhood. Looking back I was pretty weird. (Shut it Sherylyn... I know I still am!!) But if you could imagine, I was even weirder- yet I never gave it a second thought. I lived in my pretend world and that was okay. Now it worries me. Now I do give it a second thought. 

Today though was a little different. I let my inner child out if not for one more day. I swung on the playground, I climbed to the top of the metal house, I slid down some sides, yet not alone- mind you! I still have some sort of pride. No, I took a few little buddies of mine to the park and I'm pretty sure I had more fun than they did. Yet still- at 17- I was frightened of doing anything that "broke the rules". I swung on my bottom, I went down the slide the right way, and I climbed safely and without danger to my fellow students. Yeah I was a pretty lame kid. The craziest thing I ever did was swing upside down on the monkey bars. And the first time I fell and hit my head was the last time I took any risks. #rebel #iNeedARedo #safetyMonitor

In addition to my recklessness at the park I also challenged two little boys in the neighborhood to a friendly game of soccer. FALSE! I do not play "friendly". If you can't take the heat get out of the doghouse...wait or is it oven...kitchen? (Another thing I was never good at was remembering those common sayings everyone says...yet doesn't quite know where it came from...yeah I usually butcher those.) Anywho- I dominated. Is this some sort of problem I have? That i feel extremely competitive with little kids? Eh, I'm not gonna worry  about it...

Well after the wild and crazy day I had I decided that I COULD take the heat and decided I would spend some time in the kitchen. My mission?

Chocolate sheet cake...with....WITH....!!!!! 

BROWN BUTTER ICING!!!!!!!!!

So you think I'm overreacting??! Do ya?? Then you don't even know!!

Brown butter is something I discovered last year and I haven't recovered. It is such a beautiful thing. And I thought butter couldn't get any better- then BAM! After a few minutes of toasting in the stove and it becomes more than you have ever imagined it could be.

I feel a monument should be dedicated in its honor. 

A huge butter sculpture or butter. 

Basically a ginormous slab of butter... That people can come and look at. It would be elected for mayor. And win! And it would bring nations together and finally bring the world peace!

Thank you Mayor Brown Butter. 

We owe you a lot sir. 

Recipe for : Mayor Brown Butter Icing (adapted from the great Martha Stewart) 

Ingredients:

4 tbsp butter (it can be cold yet room temp melts better- but it's up to you!)

1 cup powdered sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract (I use Mexican- any is fine though)

1 to 2 tbsp milk

Pinch of salt 

Step 1: place a suave pan on the stove and set the heat to medium. Place butter in the pan. After the butter is melted turn the heat up to medium- high. Don't worry if it starts popping- just be careful!

Step 2: proceed to cook the butter until it is light brown- caramel color. (When you place a spoon in there should be foam, light brown butter, and black bits). If you see this- you're doing it right. If not- then maybe cooking isn't for you...

Step 3: Pour the butter into a bowl. Dump in the powdered sugar. Stir or whisk until combined. Add the vanilla extract and the salt. Whisk. Add in 1 tbsp of milk at a time until you reach a consistency that the icing is spreadable yet not runny. 

Step 4: Bathe in it. 

A Day In the Life Of a Common American (Peasant)

McKenzie and I are currently somewhat obsessed with all things British. Recently, we've been seeking out certain delicacies and vittles, if you will, that might be common to the British diet.

I myself am quite interested in the day-to-day of the typical Brit's routine. Or even more interesting, the British meal. I know that customarily their meals are referred to as 'breakfast, supper and tea'. But is there still an afternoon tea? When, customarily, does this particular event occur? Is an afternoon tea had every day or is it only on weekends and holidays? And speaking of holidays, why do they call vacationing 'going on holiday'? 

I suppose my fascination takes root with the desperate desire for knowing what a different culture would be like. As far as I know, some of our friends from across the pond feel similarly about we Americans. They find our Big-Macs and Pizza Huts as interesting as we find their meat pies and Digestives. But if there happens to be a Brit reading this particular post, I can assure you that our daily life is just as uneventful as yours. This is what a day in the life of a common American is like:

I awoke to my alarm, blaring out of the speakers of my phone at exactly 6:29. (I sometimes tend to set my alarm at odd intervals, just to annoy the obsessive compulsive inside of me). I pressed snooze, knowing that my alarm would go off in ten more minutes. A then another ten. At 7:00, a new alarm went off. This particular alarm would now sound every three minutes until I finally got my butt out of bed. Generally this happens around 7:21, if I must be at work by 8:00 AM, which today I did.

I will spare you the details of my hurried attempt to be presentable, but rest assured, it was not well done. I arrived at work (a local restaurant, known as Village Inn) at 8:15, shuffling in as if I'm still asleep.

"Oh, sorry, Sarah," I said. "I didn't realize I was so late."

The new girl, Sarah, was placing freshly baked pies into the pie case. I could smell the sweet golden scent of the crust that covered my favorite pie, Strawberry Rhubarb, mingling with the pleasant aroma of the Cherry Pie, along with the most dominant scent of the Peach Pie. The bouquet that the mix of these delicious desserts often makes my mouth water and instantly I crave a slice, topped with a scoop of icecream or a dollop of whip cream. Today, however, I was too bothered by my lack of sleep, my disappointing appearance and the fact that I was fifteen minutes late, to even notice the delicious fragrance. 

"It's okay," Sarah replied pleasantly. "You haven't missed much." Sarah had been at work since 5:30 AM and had had a proper amount of time to wake up. She's a very nice girl, or woman I should say since she is twenty-three. She has been employed with us for approximately four weeks and I've come to enjoy her company very much. Today, however, I was too tired for pleasantries or conversation. Once settled in, I made my way to the back to prepare a blessed cup of coffee for myself and begin the morning paperwork. 

Two cups of coffee and thirty minutes later, I finally became coherent. I walked about the building, greeting fellow employees and getting updates about progress. Today, I was in charge (off the a great start, huh?) and had several responsibilities and delegations that were required of me. After setting up the day and finishing the morning paperwork, I made my way back to the front to join Sarah.

Our day was enjoyable, though not eventful, and my work day had come to a close. I was thankful to leave and get on with doing the one thing that makes my life complete: reading.

After a quick stop to the library with McKenzie (a new oasis that has been right under our noses and will be severely blogged about in the future) and a grocery store run, I finally made my way back to my little house.

My golden retriever, Bette Davis Jr. was very happy to see me when I came through the door. Her whole back end wagged along with her tail as she let out small playful growls around a dirty, mangled, stuffed cow that happens to be her favorite toy. 

After several minutes of playtime, I rushed to my bedroom to throw on some pajamas and then rushed to the kitchen to prepare myself a cup of tea (trying too hard to be British?). Feeling completely satisfied, I settled onto the couch, 'Outlander' in hand, my tea nearby and my wonderful dog resting happily near my feet. The perfect evening.

After about five minutes of reading, I began to doze and almost dropped my book in my lap. 

"Urggghhh!" I groaned. "I just want to READ!"

Unable to stay awake, I stumbled into my bedroom and fell asleep.

Thankfully, fifteen minutes later, my husband, Dustin, called me on his break from work and woke me from my nap. After a few minutes of conversation, we hung up so that he could eat his lunch (or dinner... or if you're in the UK, tea). Unable to go back to sleep (thankfully or else I won't sleep tonight) I rose from bed and went to clean the kitchen. After the dishes were done, I sat down on my couch, my trusty laptop (Tardis is her name) in hand, and I typed out this post.

So, dear friends who answer to Her Majesty and others with sleep trouble, I assure you that The Life Of a Common American is certainly uninteresting, if not uneventful. However, I happen to have a pretty good life, and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Feelin European

Have you ever thought- like really thought- about life as an American? Because I haven't. Well that is until yesterday. Yesterday, Sherylyn and myself, discovered a new way of living. 

The European way. (Well maybe the Americanized European way.)

In all actuality the biggest highlight of our day was our finding the famous Jammy Dodgers (*insert Doctor Who fan girl noices*) and dipping them in our freshly brewed tea. Yes it was like we were actual real-life British people and it felt liberating. 

So after scarfing down a whole package of Jammie Dodgers, drinking copious amounts of tea, and watching episodes of Doctor Who, it was time for *drum rooooolllll* BIEROCKS!!! 

Why am I yelling, you might ask?!?!? 

Well why not?

Ok, so I am a Bierocks fiend! And my life, as a Porter, meant I inhaled many a Bierocks in my young life. Thankfully my buddy Sherylyn is also very familiar with this wonderful meat pie and included her own spin on the classic dinner delight. 

Keep in mind- making a Bierock is not like making a soufflé. It's all about the enjoyment and company. You simply cannot make a Bierock all alone. It just cannot be done. Bierocks are an institution for bringing people together  and wrapping them tight around beef, cabbage, and biscuit dough. So experiment, taste test, salt, pepper, and taste test again. And above all enjoy the process.

Beer-Rocks Bierock Recipe:

Ingredients:

Two lbs ground beef (80/20)

1 white onion (diced)

4 cloves of garlic (diced)

1 head of cabbage (shredded---we merely diced it)

I bottle of your favorite beer (something robust and full flavored)

Salt 

Pepper

2 cans of biscuit dough (could use frozen dinner rolls but be sure to let them rise and thaw)

Carroway seeds 

Garlic Powder

Flour (for rolling out the biscuit dough)

Step 1: in a large pan set to medium-medium high start cooking the ground beef until browned. Add the diced onion and cook until slightly translucent. Add the garlic and keep cooking until the beef is cooked, the onions are translucent, and the garlic is fragrant. (Salt and pepper each layer) Add garlic powder to taste. 

Step 2: If pan is big enough add the cabbage- if not do as Sherylyn and I do and that is drain the liquid off the beef and put the beef mixture in a separate bowl- then add the cabbage. After you add the cabbage pour in the bottle of beer as well a some salt and pepper. (Salt to draw out the liquid) cover the pan and let steam and cook until the cabbage is cooked. ( I.e not crunchy)

Step 3: Add the beef mixture back in the pan with the cooked down cabbage. (Salt and pepper). Add about half a handful of carroway seeds to the pan and continue to cook together for a few minutes.turn the heat off and start to prepare the dough.

Step 3: Prehat the oven to 350 degrees and flour a work space. Open up the biscuit dough and one at a time- flour then roll out the individual biscuits. You will want the biscuits to be pretty thin- yet not too thin so that when we add the mixture it breaks. (I'm talking to you Sherylyn!) Put the rolled out biscuits on a floured plate.

Step 4: Spray a few cookie sheets with non stick cooking spray. Lay out each biscuit dough- one at a time- and add a scoop (about 1/2 cup) of the meet and cabbage mixture in the center of the biscuit dough. Fold in every corner, do a slight twist, and with a spatula placed under the pie, lift the pies and flip them onto the cookie sheet. Place them 1 inch apart so that they don't cook together. (Although I was thinking one massive mammoth Bierock would make me pretty happy...)

Step 5: Place the cookie sheets in the oven and bake for 10-15 minutes or until the pies are golden brown on the top and on the bottom.

Step 6: When cooked, take out of the oven and let cool until safe to eat. 

Step 7: Okay now is the time...the time for you to experience the true pleasure of what is wonderfully called a bierock. And what I do...even though it was supposed to be a European day...I added ketchup. Cause this is 'Mercia!