Okay, so a 5 month hiatus from blogging is a little extreme, but what can I say..

I drove through Stillwater with Chris this afternoon. We went to Colly's son Axel's 1st birthday in a park near downtown, so on our way back to minneapolis I took the scenic route through good ol croixwood.

Time feels strange. I'm now to the point where I can look back to over 10 years ago as the last time I was putting around that town, and over TWENTY years since my first memories of living there. I don't, on a day to day basis, feel that 28 is old. I fully recognize that I'm a) still in my 20's, b) have no countable wrinkles, c) have no countable grey hairs, and d) am still able to sit cross-legged on the floor without groaning about my knees or back. However, it's days like these that make me stop and reflect on how much life is already behind me.

I have so many memories. I drive along those roads I used to bike on and it's a veritable slideshow of millions of flashes of moments I haven't thought about in, oh, 10 to 20 years. That feels old. As we drove along the winding neighborhood roads, past houses I've seen a thousand times before, a knot was forming in the pit of my stomach. Life feels like it was so intense then. The feelings of a youth now over were so vivid, even with the pieces of my future all bundled up in the air-conditioned car with me. I wanted to stop. I wanted to pull up into my old driveway, get out of the car, pull weeds from the garden my mom and I would have planted, run down the backyard hill I know like the freckles on my arm, and sit on the patio while my dad cooked a steak on the grill.

My 10 yr highschool reunion is coming up in a few weeks. That also feels old. Back when we were graduating and teachers were saying to us, what do you think you'll be doing in 10 years? Of course, we never had a good answer, since how were we to know? What a ridiculous question, really. From people who had seen the way decades of life pass in flashes, and who had experienced for themselves - many times over, I'm sure - the moment of reflection when you look back and say "wow, I never could have predicted I'd end up here". And I never could have. I'm phenomenally happy, but I never could have predicted it.

The one thing I'm mildly dreading about the reunion is the one thing I'll have to do all night ... make small talk for hours, replaying the same conversation over and over again with everyone I happen to bump into at the hors d'ouvres table. The thing is, I know that when I see these people and begin that same conversation, that I will feel a sincere desire to reconnect and to learn all about the turns their lives have taken. But somehow even the sincerest of small-talk question and answer becomes quickly stagnant and uncomfortable. It's like we all wish we could pop into 90 second booths to rattle off our answers, screech our "oh!"s and "wow!"s, and then have the dinger go off so that we can swiftly and comfortably exit the conversation. That way we could avoid all the weirdness and awkward looking around for someone else to approach or something else to eat. This is probably why reunions are notoriously great spots for drinking. I think I'll suggest this setup.

So we'll see. I'm sure it'll be fine, especially since I'll have Chris as my own little oasis I can melt into if the people overload gets to be too much. But I still think it'll be one of those things that make me feel old.

As we drove along our South Minneapolis street to our house, I started to realize that one day I would be having the same kind of experience I had today, but next time it'll be about my life in my late twenties. One day I'll drive back through this little neighborhood and I'll remember all of those times. All of the sweat and hard work that went into our gardens and lawn and picnic table. Moving here, meeting Chris, going to the corner hardware store, and all those other minute things that feel like the same old same old to me right now.

One day these things too will give me a knot in my stomach for the remembering of it all.

Maria Bamford + baked goods = Saturday on the couch

My dog is right now sitting up on top of the couch cushions at my left shoulder. I must admit, I'm using his ass as a nice comfy head rest. I watched three new Maria Bamford shows today (can't believe I missed that many!), and the best was the last one where she tells the emergency vet what relation she is to Blossom the pug:

"We're life partners. She's my wife. We're wives."
check it out: http://www.superdeluxe.com/sd/artist/maria_bamford

If only Chip were a girl, he'd be my wife. But at this point, he has to live with the high distinction of head rest.

This week's blog is expressly dedicated to Maria Bamford, for whom I gave my email address to some random website that might convince her to come to Minneapolis, MN. We're currently in second place behind Portland. We deserve Maria much more than those cakeaters. (actually, I know nothing of portlandeers, nor their preference in pastries).

Go and "demand" her yourself, friends! Portland has 39 demands and I made mpls a close 2nd with 38. You can tip the scales! It's not like you have to give out your bank account or ssn ... just your email address. That shit is always quite easy to unsubscribe from.

http://eventful.com/performers/maria-bamford/music-/P0-001-000009214-3

And finally, since you brought up pastries, I must inform you of my new favorite bakery: The Bakers Wife. Yummmmmmmy. It's at the corner of 28th Ave and 42nd st. in South Mpls. It's this tiny little rectangle positively overflowing with flaky, sweet, crunchy, chewy pastry goodness. I got the "Creme Brulee" pastry and it was so custardy and buttery I just wanted to keep eating it. I'm still daydreaming about it. And their croissants (which I immediately recognized as the ones I get at Nokomis coffee shop) are very unique - a bit more substantive outer crust than some croissant purists might like, but I love them. And they're huge. If you're a south-minneapolite, you really should check it out. Call me and I'll go with you. Oh, and Chris loves the crispy/crumby homemade doughnuts we get at Nokomis coffee shop, which I can only assume also come from The Baker's Wife. I must say, the baker's wifey - she knows a good pastry when she makes one.

Mmm. Peas.

I've noticed that the best I've gotten at blogging is once per month at best... I missed Jan by just a few days. I'll try to get to at least once a week...

Something that made me giggle out loud:
http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2008/1/28liebert.html

My favorite:

MY PET PEEVES...

When a can of cheap peas says "Pea Color and Size May Vary" and inside there's just one giant blue pea.

Hah! I hate that. But I do have a passionate love affair with peas. I'll eat them right out of the can without even heating them. Well, I haven't done that in a while... but I'm not against it.

We finally went to "Common Roots" coffee shop today on Lyndale and 26th st. I would love to leave the cubicle farm behind one day and own a little cafe/restaurant/bar. I would have the best breakfast burritos on the block. And there would be yummy red wine and it would be served in little glass tumblers instead of wine glasses. And we wouldn't serve miller or budweiser products. But where? and when? And how much do I need to save up to start something like that? And how would I actually "do" it, considering I've never even worked in a restaurant, let alone learned how to run one. It makes me wonder if I should get a second job working at a bar or restaurant, just to get closer to learning the biz.

Don't worry, I won't serve cold canned peas. BUT I would serve my mother's wonderful creamed peas recipe in the springtime when there are peas at the farmer's markets. It can't be those stupid new peas that you don't have to shell. I don't get those. It's got to be the real peas that our grandmothers shelled on the porch at the farm. Not that I actually have my own memories of my grandmother on any sort of farm, but I have a romantic vision of women rocking on an old wooden porch swing in the setting sunlight on a warm and breezy late spring evening with a red bowl sitting between them as the dog snatches discarded pea shells. That was quite the run-on sentence. Nice.

Ok, so I'm pretty pissed right now.. I split a pair of new jeans right up my thigh. BAH! Not only is that money down the drain, but it's yet another sign from the universe that I probably shouldn't have gotten the mayo and cheese on my sammy. Poo.

But I need to rally my spirit, because I have lots of work to do... I visited the fabric store today and of course bought enough fabric to complete FIVE projects... I haven't even started the first one. I'm a little too ambitious sometimes, but hopefully I'll stick with it in order to get these xmas presents pumped out. I'm like a little elf at my sewing machine! Or at least I will be, once I get off my computer and get to it.

Also on the docket for today: spicy hummus. yum! I'm going to a "naughty or nice" party tonight... I'm going to buck the trend of dressing slutty and I'm going to dress like a little girl in pigtails. One that drinks wine and eats hummus.

Time's a wastin........

Oh, gooooooodness! It's been months and months since my last post. I'm not very good at this I spose. Oh vell. So the last time I blogged, I had just met my lovie lou. Now he's snuggling on the couch next to me (sorry, Chris, but when you're not here, he gets your snuggling space...), chewing on his squirrely's foot. It's truly amazing the pleasure I derive from the simple pleasures and sincere and loving gazes from my pup.

I'm watching "What not to wear" on E!, and I love the part where they take the woman shopping for bras and undies. But I hate the part where they computerize her body measurements... mostly because I fear what I would look like. Poo. My fave part, though, is where they bring in someone as a motivational life coach... it basically makes me tear up every time. I'm trying to let it motivate me. Here's a good nugget to repeat to myself:

"In this life, you can not control how you are perceived. You can only control how you are presented."

I think this is important for me to believe.

Last night was our first night without our new baby:


He's spending a weekend with his grandparents while mommy and daddy go camping to a music festival for the weekend.

The hellish interviews are over now, so it's just a waiting game. Maybe I'll try mind-bending. Oh wait. Shit. I just googled "mind bending" and realized its purpose is to bend one's own mind, not the minds of others. Doh!

On another note, we gorged ourselves on many marvelous cuts of meat last night at Fogo de Chao. Wow, I never thought I would be so ravenous over so much meat, but it truly is a wonderful place! I think I'm still sweating meat, though, so that's maybe not so wonderful. I think I'll also be dreaming about their tres leches cake for a few years to come... How can you go wrong when you soak something in cream, serve it over cream, with whipped cream on top? Yum.

The hell that is an interview. Or five.

So I'm supposed to be "preparing".. of course I'm writing a blog instead. What fun is work if you don't procrastinate too? It's like having beer without peanuts! Or a Saturday without a nap!

I'm preparing to prove myself. To five people. What if they don't like me, you ask? Then I fail again, I reply. I know I shouldn't really spend time and energy in the negative, but I have such anxiety that this won't work out either. Haven't I already proven myself to dozens of people, for a year and a half? That's not the way it works, though. You don't just get recognized and moved on.. you still have to prove yourself before you get to pass go and collect $200.

"Tell me about a time ..." those five words drive me crazy! Not because I don't want to tell you about a time.... but because my telling you about a time has to be formatted and structured with all the "right" elements that you want to hear. Otherwise, well, you know the drill ("do not pass go, yada yada yada)

So I'm here. Preparing. I'll try not to give you too many details. I'll try not to ramble on. I'll try to relay to you examples of a time where I took partners, communicated an action plan, created a contingency, implemented a process, developed a team member. To prove to you that I am ready to deliver the financials for your bottom line.

Just so that my bottom line can have an extra $200.