So the count down continues to the big 3 0. Three months and I will have passed my twenties and moved on to bigger and better....numbers. I've tried to see why it's such a big deal to move on to another digit....especially 30, but other than you're not a twenty something anymore, I haven't found much. I know a woman that shut herself in the bathroom for the whole day on her 30th birthday. She sat in the tub, ran hot water everytime the water turned cold, drank wine, cried and pruned....for the whole day. WHY? What purpose did that serve? It's not like she skipped it and will forever be 29. It still came, it happened, she's 30 something now and she's fine. I'm not going to react that way. There is though, and I can't help it, a certain amount of anxiety and sense of urgency to accomplish the world looming over me. I am trying to decipher if this is just because society makes such a big deal about it and it's rubbed off on me, or if it's real and I need to accomplish something before February. What would/could I accomplish in 3 months? Clearly since I have no idea of where to start with all of my accomplishing duties, it's probably not going to happen, but...WHY DO I HAVE ANXIETY ABOUT 30?!?!
Maybe I could focus on paying off certain bills. Maybe I could go skydiving (haha, yeah right). Maybe I should plan to just get drunk and party like a rock star the day of my birthday. Maybe I should treat it like New Year's and make resolutions. Isn't there a country song about doing that? Why can't I just enjoy turning 30 and celebrate leaving my horrid 20's behind? Maybe it's because I don't want to relive the hell that was my early 20's. This is ridiculous. So anyway....I turn 30 in three months. I have no idea how that happened.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Double Date soon?
My best friend in high school and I became best friends in 8th grade while sitting on the brick wall at the practice field and watching girls pair up and talk about their hair and shoes. We literally looked at each other and said "I like you, wanna be best friends?" It was like something that happens in Kindergarten at recess. Whatever, it happened and it stuck. We were inseparable until we graduated high school and went on about our lives, staying in contact occasionally still through Instagram, Facebook or random texts once a year or so. After her and I split (it was like a break up almost), my boyfriend at the time became my sole relationship. We got married, had a baby and lived happily ever after....wrong, we isolated ourselves, got pregnant, got married and a year and a half later, divorced. We had poured our souls into each other and nothing else, for four years and when it ended we were both more alone than we ever knew possible. We had no one. No friends came to the rescue, he was my only friend, and I his. So years pass....we both have remarried and learned our lesson. However, finding friends is hard. I don't mean aquaintences, I mean FRIENDS. The kind you call crying after a fight and she shows up with wine and a sappy movie. The kind you can talk about your periods and poop schedules with. The kind that you become their kids "aunts" because you are together more than actual blood aunts. Don't lie, you know you want that kind of friendship. If you already have that kind of friend, you know how important it is. I had that kind of friend, and want that kind of friend again. Not that my precious hubby isn't enough, because he is. He will forever be my best friend, BUT....sometimes I need a girl to go shopping with and tell me, honestly, if those pants make my butt look big. I can't just sit on a wall though and say "wanna be friends?" anymore, because people are crazy and it's just not that easy. So what do you do? How do you approach the subject as a 30 something adult needing a girl's night?
I have recently began stalking random couples that might have similar interests as Mike and I. Yes, stalking is the correct word, unfortunately technology makes it to easy now a days to learn all of someone's dirty secrets....but it still requires research (aka, stalking). So today I decided to message an old friend...his ex-wife and I grew up together, they went through a nasty divorce, she made all our friends choose sides, and so I remained acquaintences with him and not her (don't make me choose between you, we are not 12). Anyway, he has recently remarried, she likes to cook (I like to cook), they have kids about 12 and 8 (we have kids about 12 and 8), ding ding ding....(there are more points, but this post is getting to long) winner, winner, chicken dinner. So I messaged and literally just said, "double date soon?". Technology is a scary thing, that went down about 30 minutes ago, she is already texting me, we already are making plans, and I know her full name, birthday and history (not really). So we have a double date soon....I'm nervous....that's dumb. It's hard making FRIENDS, it's like dating. You have to put effort in and get to know the person and trust them. You have to put time in, and sometimes you have to MAKE time, but in the long run what you gain is so important. Let's see how it goes.
I have recently began stalking random couples that might have similar interests as Mike and I. Yes, stalking is the correct word, unfortunately technology makes it to easy now a days to learn all of someone's dirty secrets....but it still requires research (aka, stalking). So today I decided to message an old friend...his ex-wife and I grew up together, they went through a nasty divorce, she made all our friends choose sides, and so I remained acquaintences with him and not her (don't make me choose between you, we are not 12). Anyway, he has recently remarried, she likes to cook (I like to cook), they have kids about 12 and 8 (we have kids about 12 and 8), ding ding ding....(there are more points, but this post is getting to long) winner, winner, chicken dinner. So I messaged and literally just said, "double date soon?". Technology is a scary thing, that went down about 30 minutes ago, she is already texting me, we already are making plans, and I know her full name, birthday and history (not really). So we have a double date soon....I'm nervous....that's dumb. It's hard making FRIENDS, it's like dating. You have to put effort in and get to know the person and trust them. You have to put time in, and sometimes you have to MAKE time, but in the long run what you gain is so important. Let's see how it goes.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
A Fur Coat and Pearls
The vanity is off white with a tri folding mirror. The bench is only big enough for me to sit and has a rose pink velvet cushion. The top of the vanity is covered with make up brushes and perfumes with the little squeeze puffs at the end (I have got to get one of those). It sits up against the middle of the wall and to my left is a huge bay window from floor to ceiling. The ceilings are ten to twelve foot and the room is massive. It's dark outside and cold. The lighting in the room is low, but the candles help fill the room. I am sitting at the vanity in a long, silk, evening gown and my hair is in a formal up do. My shoulders are bare and kind of cool. I am wearing a multi strand of pearls and I am trying to choose what lipstick to wear. I can see myself in the mirror. I don't know where this place is, or why it comforts me, but this is my go to, in my mind, when I am feeling insecure. Which is often. It gives me confidence, it gives me stillness.
I started going there at about 16 years old. It was my way of coping with personal tragedies that I couldn't escape. I have walked all over that room in my mind, gazed out the window, placed my shoes on my feet, even laid on the bed and read a book. I never left the room, and no one was ever there with me. There were times I felt more at home there in my imaginary room, than I did in reality. I felt pretty, I felt undamaged and protected. People in my life have never known the demons I face on a daily basis. The insecurities that take over very quickly if I let them. Or the dark place I cover up with rainbows and butterflies. I would like to place blame and tell you a long sad story. I have a story, but so do you, and the person sitting next to you does too. It's life and we all find ways of coping with what comes along. This place keeps me from going down and keeps me from getting to dark and twisty (quite frankly people couldn't handle it). In moments of inner crisis, I tend to lose myself. I would give everything I had to solve/save the situation and in the meanwhile lose touch of who I am as an individual. I have recreated myself many times on the basis of I simply forgot who I was. The only thing that remained the same was my room in my head. I feel like maybe I am getting ready for a night out, with fur coats, music and dancing, friends and the man that gave me the pearls. Whatever it is, at the moment I need to be in the room, the room is much more inviting than life.
I realized the other day that I had never told anyone of my room. Pure honesty scares me sometimes. I would rather hide who I am and how I feel so as to escape judgement. But I also realized I hadn't visited it in awhile. There have been times in my life where I swear I spent more time in that imaginary room than I did participating in life, daily....hours a day. Almost to where I was worried if I had multiple personalities. But...I can't remember the last time I went there. I think for the obvious reasons, I am happy, I am content. My husband is the only man that has ever tried to help me overcome insecurities I might have. He's the only man that has tried to dig deeper than what I allowed on the surface, breaking walls. He is the only man that saw me for what I was and not what I was "trying" to be, or "expected" to be. We haven't talked about my demons or "my room", we haven't had to, he knows. So many times I start to sink, dwell on things and running starts to sound fun. I never have to tell him. I never get very far underwater before he saves me from myself. He knows me, maybe better than I even know myself. No one sees that side of us. No one sees the times he has held me and just let me cry. No one knows the depths of the pain that other people have put on me, nor will I ever tell (there are just somethings you keep to yourself). He is not a perfect man, but he loves me perfectly, and for that I would marry him again, everyday for the rest of my life. For the first time in almost fifteen years, I don't need my vanity, I don't need the pearls, I don't need the make up brushes or perfume with the squeeze puff (although they are awesome). For the first time in a very long time my reality is allowing me to breathe more than my room.
I started going there at about 16 years old. It was my way of coping with personal tragedies that I couldn't escape. I have walked all over that room in my mind, gazed out the window, placed my shoes on my feet, even laid on the bed and read a book. I never left the room, and no one was ever there with me. There were times I felt more at home there in my imaginary room, than I did in reality. I felt pretty, I felt undamaged and protected. People in my life have never known the demons I face on a daily basis. The insecurities that take over very quickly if I let them. Or the dark place I cover up with rainbows and butterflies. I would like to place blame and tell you a long sad story. I have a story, but so do you, and the person sitting next to you does too. It's life and we all find ways of coping with what comes along. This place keeps me from going down and keeps me from getting to dark and twisty (quite frankly people couldn't handle it). In moments of inner crisis, I tend to lose myself. I would give everything I had to solve/save the situation and in the meanwhile lose touch of who I am as an individual. I have recreated myself many times on the basis of I simply forgot who I was. The only thing that remained the same was my room in my head. I feel like maybe I am getting ready for a night out, with fur coats, music and dancing, friends and the man that gave me the pearls. Whatever it is, at the moment I need to be in the room, the room is much more inviting than life.
I realized the other day that I had never told anyone of my room. Pure honesty scares me sometimes. I would rather hide who I am and how I feel so as to escape judgement. But I also realized I hadn't visited it in awhile. There have been times in my life where I swear I spent more time in that imaginary room than I did participating in life, daily....hours a day. Almost to where I was worried if I had multiple personalities. But...I can't remember the last time I went there. I think for the obvious reasons, I am happy, I am content. My husband is the only man that has ever tried to help me overcome insecurities I might have. He's the only man that has tried to dig deeper than what I allowed on the surface, breaking walls. He is the only man that saw me for what I was and not what I was "trying" to be, or "expected" to be. We haven't talked about my demons or "my room", we haven't had to, he knows. So many times I start to sink, dwell on things and running starts to sound fun. I never have to tell him. I never get very far underwater before he saves me from myself. He knows me, maybe better than I even know myself. No one sees that side of us. No one sees the times he has held me and just let me cry. No one knows the depths of the pain that other people have put on me, nor will I ever tell (there are just somethings you keep to yourself). He is not a perfect man, but he loves me perfectly, and for that I would marry him again, everyday for the rest of my life. For the first time in almost fifteen years, I don't need my vanity, I don't need the pearls, I don't need the make up brushes or perfume with the squeeze puff (although they are awesome). For the first time in a very long time my reality is allowing me to breathe more than my room.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Banana Nut Bread Recipe
It's fall (as we all know). Although people are trying to infringe on the season by putting up their Christmas trees already, my mother included. I am still enjoying the leaves rustling and crisp mornings rather than cold mornings. I am still looking forward to Thanksgiving and quality time with my family. Oh, and food, I'm looking forward to the FOOD! I don't want to make this a food blog, mainly because they are a dime a dozen, but I just can't help myself. I love food. I love to smell it, look at it, prepare it, try new things and I love to eat it. I love it. It's one of those things that I know I am supposed to be doing, but can't find a way to make enough money to survive off of just doing that yet. Maybe one day I will open a deli, or bakery, but until then I will write random food blogs and run my family's sugar levels out the roof.
So last night I come home to fruit flies, although annoying, I was semi excited to see them knowing my bananas had ripened enough to bake banana nut bread. This is a family favorite. My husband loves it for breakfast and my daughter would eat it every meal. So after dinner I started my favorite past time, BAKING :)!!! The results of this recipe rendered the best yet. I am constantly trying new banana nut bread recipes because they are never the consistency I want or sweet enough.
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F and grease and flour two loaf pans.
Assemble all of your ingredients, a big mixing bowl, measuring cup and big wooden spoon.
You will need....
1/2 cup of vegetable oil
3/4 cup of white sugar
1/2 cup of soft brown sugar
2 eggs
3/4 cup of milk
3 very ripe bananas
2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp salt
3 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup chopped walnuts
Mash your bananas and mix in with oil, eggs, sugars and milk.
Add salt, baking powder, flour and vanilla and mix well.
Last add your walnuts.
Some people like to add golden raisens too, I hate raisens, but you add whatever you want.
I think coconut would be good, maybe even some chocolate chips or cream cheese.
Pour equal amounts into each prepared loaf pan.
Bake at 350 for about 50 minutes to an hour.
The actual recipe calls for an hour and a half, but I baked mine for less than 55 minutes and any longer would have burnt the goodies. So this depends on your oven and location.
When a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean it's done. (This is true about most desserts)
Let cool and serve with milk and butter. Yummy.
So last night I come home to fruit flies, although annoying, I was semi excited to see them knowing my bananas had ripened enough to bake banana nut bread. This is a family favorite. My husband loves it for breakfast and my daughter would eat it every meal. So after dinner I started my favorite past time, BAKING :)!!! The results of this recipe rendered the best yet. I am constantly trying new banana nut bread recipes because they are never the consistency I want or sweet enough.
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F and grease and flour two loaf pans.
Assemble all of your ingredients, a big mixing bowl, measuring cup and big wooden spoon.
You will need....
1/2 cup of vegetable oil
3/4 cup of white sugar
1/2 cup of soft brown sugar
2 eggs
3/4 cup of milk
3 very ripe bananas
2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp salt
3 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup chopped walnuts
Mash your bananas and mix in with oil, eggs, sugars and milk.
Add salt, baking powder, flour and vanilla and mix well.
Last add your walnuts.
Some people like to add golden raisens too, I hate raisens, but you add whatever you want.
I think coconut would be good, maybe even some chocolate chips or cream cheese.
Pour equal amounts into each prepared loaf pan.
Bake at 350 for about 50 minutes to an hour.
The actual recipe calls for an hour and a half, but I baked mine for less than 55 minutes and any longer would have burnt the goodies. So this depends on your oven and location.
When a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean it's done. (This is true about most desserts)
Let cool and serve with milk and butter. Yummy.
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