The Paper Porcupine

Alice has ventured into the big bad world of etsy with her

mad paper-embossin'-card-creatin' skillz.

You should visit her little shop,

The Paper Porcupine.

And, if you like what she's created, maybe purchase a little hello note for someone you think deserves a cheery howdy-do.

(Oh, and keep coming back.

She has plenty of brilliant creations she hasn't posted just yet.)

I'm Hosting an Intervention

Alice, the cute girl pictured above and

the best bestie/roomie that a girl could ask for,

hasn't blogged in over 2 months.

It is time for an intervention.

Who's with me?

Letters that Need Writing

Dear Summer Cold,

You stink. At least I think you do. I can't really smell at the moment. But if I could, I'm quite certain you would stink.

Signed,
Miserable


Dear Garden (specifically the tomatoes),

Please grow. I'm begging you here. What's it going to take? Need I open a vein a la Little Shop of Horrors?

Respectfully,
A First Timer


Dear Cardigan Sweaters,

Without your loveliness I'm quite certain I'd go naked--or at least have more morning "I've nothing to wear!" tantrums.

Love,
Your Biggest Fan


Dear Pinterest,

You're sucking more of my time away than necessary. I can't say I mind all that much.

Love,
The one who can't help but smile and celebrate


Dear Best Friend,

Happy 29th Birthday this week! I'm happy you were born. I might be a hot mess without you in my world.

Love,
"Little Pinch"

P.S. I dare say it is time for a new blog post in your neck of the woods. Just a (kind of pushy) thought.


Dear Snow in the Mountains,

You're cramping my hiking style. And I hear you're going to wreak some serious flooding havoc down in the valleys.

Signed,
Not a skier, not a fan


Dear New Second Job,

You're really not all that shabby as long as I don't think about missing out on my lovely summer. Nonetheless, thank you for helping me pay off debt. Thank you for making my travel dreams seem like a possibility. Thank you for not being in retail. I'll hope my appreciation lasts even as school starts up again (eeks!).

Love,
The New Girl at Work


Dear AP Kiddos of 2010-2011,

I kind of miss you. But in order for me to bid a gleeful farewell to my obnoxious 9th graders, you and I had to part ways as well. Bummer. Please don't forget me.

Signed,
Your favorite English teacher of the moment


Dear Body,

Take this plateau and shove it. No, really. It is rather frustrating.

Love,
Me


Dear Target,

It is a love/hate thing with you and me, isn't it? Why must everything about you be so tempting?

Love,

Weak to your wily ways


Dear Writing,

It has been far too long. I miss you. Let's change that, shall we?

Love,
Me


Dear Chris O'Dowd,

You're giving Javier a run for his money. Good boy.

Love,
A Bit Smitten

Hello '11. And then 12.

I've always had this thing with the number 11. At 11:11 I touch the digital clock and make a wish. Eleven is a good number. Ten, meh. 2010 was a hard one for me, I won't pretend otherwise. It started quite terribly. In a funk. It took months to dig myself out of it. I spent the first half of it fearful of turning 30. Much of the year felt like I was slogging through. Surviving. I had some rough classes, some irrational personal fears and worries, I had a bad attitude. It wasn't until summer that I started to perk up a bit. But maybe it was just seasonal affective disorder.

But 2011? Eleven has to be good, right? I feel hopeful about the new year. Alice, the best roommate-friend known to mankind, has been reading this book all about a woman's journey toward greater happiness. Alice loves books like these. From what she's told me, each month of the year this woman set a goal, small and slight, and then proceeded with it for the entire month, and into the next month and the next goal. Each slight improvement became habit. Each made her life feel more pleasant. And I think it is a good idea.

So here you have my 12 goals for the year:

1. January:
Go to bed earlier. Sleep is our friend. This is also my scariest goal.

2. February:
Read your scriptures and write a (minimum of) one sentence statement describing the personal significance of what you read. Every. Single. Day.

3. March:
You're turning 30. Spend each day of this month finding something to celebrate about yourself, your life, your body, your career, your relationships. Sing the song of yourself all month long. Write it down each day.

4. April:
Eat 5-7 servings of fruits and veggies every single day this month.

5. May:
Clean or organize something (a closet or cupboard, a load of laundry, anything) for 10 minutes every day.

6. June:
Move your body (at the gym, dancing in the living room, taking the stairs, hiking, doing some PM yoga) every day this month.

7. July:
Make your bed every day this month.

8. August:
Take a single picture that captures each day of the month.

9. September:
Read something you want to (not for school but for YOU) for a minimum of 10 minutes each day this month.

10. October:
Limit your computer time at home. 30 minutes per day tops. That's it. The exception: if you write a blog post.

11. November:
This is a month of gratitude. Make a statement of something you are grateful for each day of the month, on your blog, on facebook, to the students in your classes, your family, your friends. Appreciate life.

12. December:
This is a month of giving and sacrifice. Find a way each day to sacrifice and serve someone every day this month. It can be as simple as holding the elevator or letting a car merge in. It can be as grand as a service project. Spend each day this month intentionally, mindfully giving of yourself.

So what are your plans for the new year? I'm turning 30 and teaching and going to Cancun. That's all I know for sure. And isn't that the best part of a new year: the potential, the mystery, the hope of something splendid?

Happy 2011, friends!

My She-lationship

Men think they invented everything. Take the Bromance, for instance. Apparently, close or best friendship needed a term coined only when men caught on to the benefits of such a relationship but didn't want their heterosexual status questioned. The film I Love You, Man demonstrates the difficulties and challenges associated with male bonding (even if it portrayed female friendships as shallow and less meaningful). For most women, close friendship comes a bit easier. There are countless possibilities as to why this is. My own personal theories on the matter relate to the ratio between word count and monosyllabic guttural noise.* And GNOs.

When I was 13 and had discovered the joys of a daily personal hygiene routine for myself but not anything more comfortable than a ratty sports bra for my newly developed breasts that just kept growing, I met this girl at church. Originally, there was a posse of we silly and over-dramatic adolescent girls. The gaggle of us dwindled as some moved away and eventually others married. By the time I was halfway through college, it was down to us.

Alice and Rookie.

And then there were two.

For eight years now we've been besties. Through lame bridesmaid dresses, lamer boyfriends, grad school, differing hobbies, those six months she crashed on an air mattress on the floor of my bedroom, a crush triangle (I wouldn't dare call it "love"), new career paths, unemployment, life catastrophes, celebrations, three apartments, failures, fights, and successes we've been there for each other. Thick and thin and all that bid-ness.

Needless to say, she's the person I know very best. If I didn't trust her so much, all the dirt she has on me would keep a girl up at night. We hang out most days of the week and still I never tire of her--even if we're roommates.

We're rare. I know this.

Some folks aren't sure which is which (I've been called Alice, she's been called Rookie). But before you start to think this is an eerie demonstration of enmeshed dysfunction, it should be noted that we actually celebrate our individuality. Allyson hates Pride & Prejudice but loves Billy Madison, for one. She is wise, filled with common sense and a knack for winnowing things down to what is most important. My head is in the clouds. She celebrates my rather geeky affinity for the written word. I revel in her deep and nuanced observations on humanity. She loves the thrill of the trauma bays in the ER and the Newborn ICU (she's a hospital social worker), I faint if someone says the word "vein". She's a Vince Vaughn/Jack Johnson kind of girl, my heart belongs to Javier Bardem/Dave Grohl.

I mention all of this because this summer marks 16 years of friendship. Sometime after seventh grade, Alice and I started this road to best friend-dom, wo-mance, whatever you want to call it. I am blessed to have a partner in crime, a sure and steady chick flick date (excepting period piece dramas), and someone to share the rent and inside jokes.

I love you, woman!
Here's to 16 years of memories!
May we have 61 more!

*(Oh, now don't be so offended, boys. I kid, I kid.)

Monday Comes After (or "I Clean Off My Point & Shoot")

This weekend, there may have been hiking:

I might have wasted my time stalking a few of these fellas with the point and shoot

(resulting in what is, perhaps, the world's worst wildlife photography):

(I might've laughed at myself later for it.)

*

I could've attended a bridal shower that I chose not to record with any images.

(But I might tell you all about it later.)

*

I probably taught Sunday School.

And maybe I flirted with someone at church.

(I'll likely never fess up.)

*

The bestie and I possibly made a last minute decision after church

to make the commute north for the fireworks at my/our alma mater.

There was probably some game-playing:

(We are, in truth, far over 21)

And maybe we goofed off with the camera waiting for the show to begin:

(Until I realized the camera was zoomed...)

(ahhh, that's much better!)

I probably cropped the above photo so that you can't see

the spectacle of the painfully hormonal adolescent pair behind and to the left of me.

(And let it be known that my future children are never attending the fireworks unchaperoned.) (Period.)

I certainly appreciated this spectacle while waiting for the fireworks:

And maybe I took the following picture last night, or maybe on the 4th of July...2007.

You'll never know.

*

Perhaps one day I'll get around to posting

about my excursions in the red rock a couple of weeks ago:

And how it was miserably hot in Grand Wash (that smile is only because I'm in the shade)

Or how I probably snap too many photos of sunsets:

Or how I made roasted tomato & eggplant pizza on a whole wheat crust from scratch.

I'll let you read that again: from scratch. And it worked!

But if I were you, I wouldn't hold my breath.

Psst...

27 years ago today my favorite person was born. 

Happy Birthday, Alice! 

Go on over to her blog and wish her a happy day!