Eleven Days

There are officially eleven days left in this quarter and holy God I cannot wait for it to be over. Actually, that's a lie. The countdown is lulling me into a false sense of comfort because, while it's easy to blame school for everything I hate in my life, what is actually the problem is that other thing I spend most of my life doing. You know... that thing that happens between 9:00 AM and 5:00 PM? The thing that lasts nine unyeilding hours punctuated only by fleeting thoughts of suicide / elaborate masochism scenarios? That thing.

Being that the first commandment of blogging is, "Thou shalt not write about work on the internet," let's just leave it here.

Anyway, tonight, like most Sunday nights, I have a ton of homework. But the thing that's killing me isn't the thought of four hours of class each day, or finals, or homework, or any of those things. The thing that's killing me is the looming specter of tomorrow morning.

School is, as a matter of fact, my saving grace. Because last Tuesday? The day the incident happened that balled my human spirit up into a tight little foil ball, crammed it down the garbage disposal, and turned the whirring blades on? Something amazing also happened.

Something that helped me ignore the half of my soul dangling above the raw sewage/bad breath stench bath of decaying food sludge, and instead focus on the half looking hopefully up through the underside of those black rubber flaps and bask in the small sliver of light leaking through:

My final project in my Intro to Interior Design class is to select a Puma product, any Puma product, and design a one-room show room for Puma using this product as inspiration. On Tuesday I presented my preliminary design to the head of the Interior Design department, who also happens to be my instructor in that class, and he was so impressed by it that he is actually going to send it to Puma.

So, to the haters, something tells me that one of us is meant for more than a cubicle in Lehi, Utah, and that person? It isn't you.

grumble

So, since I started going to school, my weekly workout routine has completely gone to hell. I used to religiously attend abs, kickboxing, spinning, and Zumba classes, and now… nothing. Now? I attend Color Theory, Intro to Interior Design, Observational Drawing, and Drafting in their place, and let me tell you… this situation is getting tragic.

We’re not quite there yet, but every morning I give Tragic a neighborly wave from justthissideof I can still look at my nude form in the mirror without bursting into tears or projectile vomiting.

Also, did I mention that I’m wearing leggings today? And that they’re light grey? And that on the ride in to work I spilled coffee on myself so now I have a brown stain that nicely draws attention to my hip meat?

Today is AWESOME.

Oh, and somewhere in my office people are screaming at each other. That sure creates an anxiety-free work environment…

I hope you’re all having a better day than I am, but if not, just stare intently at these Balmain buckle boots and find your internal zen garden:

Homemade LOVERS Lentil Soup

I’m going to go ahead and take credit for this recipe because, like most recipes, the one we found was more of a starting point that needed some manipulation to make it delicious. It’s super duper easy and you will want to be eating it pretty much every waking moment for the rest of your life. Why, just today my tummy told me it was lonely and missed its best friend, lentil soup. That just doesn’t happen every day! So, without further ado, here it is:

Take:

1 medium yellow onion

2 celery stalks

2 carrots

3 cloves garlic

Chop them up, and sauté them in a large pot in approx. 2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil over medium heat. When they’re tender and smelling delicious (10ish minutes, but really, just follow your nose) add:

3 Tbsp. fresh parsley (chopped)

½ tsp. dried thyme

1 bay leaf

9 C. water

1 2/3 C. lentils

Mix well, bring to a boil, reduce heat to a simmer, cover.

Add approx 2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil to a separate frying pan, sauté:

1 lb. chopped Portobello mushrooms

Once the mushrooms are browned and delicious, add them, 6 Tbsp. fresh-grated parmesean cheese, and about two tons of salt and pepper (totally preference) to the large simmering pot of everything else.

Cover and simmer for at least and hour and a half (water will be mostly absorbed, lentils will be the perfect consistency of firm/mush).

Devour.

Food and Friends

Hi guys. This weekend I'm failing at homework, which is super convenient since I don't really have a ton to accomplish. Don't get me wrong, there's plenty I could be doing, and my not doing it just means that during the week I'll have to get to business (i.e. dole out some biznass) after class, but in substantially less time-consuming quantities than ever before.

So... basically what I'm telling you is that for the first time ever I have the opportunity to procrastinate. And I am clinging to it as steadfastly and unwaveringly as a baby koala to its mama.

Do I say "steadfast" and "unwavering" too much? I apologize if that's the case, and I hope that you would let me know. And, if you hate it, please know that I ripped it off of a David Cross comedy album in which he uses those extremely illustrative terms to describe racism in the South. Basically I'm saying that if you hate me I blame David Cross. In fact, I feel that David Cross would be supportive of that, so I'm just going to go ahead and blame all of my shortcomings on that comedic genius.

Also? That baby koala thing? It totally reminded me of the Oprah show that aired earlier this week in which she interviewed that lady who got her face ripped off by a chimpanzee. That segment changed me for life because A) I will never view Oprah the same way, and B) That woman made me see life differently. In a way that I would never have tuned in to were it not for her positivity. As a matter of fact, every time I think of the weakness with which I personally would have dealt with her situation, I cry. Because I'm sure there are moments when she just needs a good, all-out, bent-over, heaving, gasping cry. And she can't have it. Because the poor woman is physically incapable of that type of release.

Next time you're depressed and feeling sorry for yourself, think about that. I know I will.

Speaking of self-indulgent emotions. I've kind of been the queen of them lately. Although I am doing something with my life that I find fulfilling, and I do believe that I'm on the right path, the road? It is daunting. And me? I'm the queen of self-doubt. Luckily, I'm also the queen of reverse psychology, bull shitting, and posturing, and those traits manage to get even the weakest (read: me) through the toughest of times.

But I would be lying if I didn't admit to finding despair in my pointlessness on more than one occasion. And in those moments, two quotes come to mind. The first by Eleanor Roosevelt, "No one can make you feel inferior without you consent." The second I believe to be from Anthony Hopkins, but he quite possibly could have gotten it from someone else (no disrespect to Mr. Hopkins, it's just that the wisdom is so universal that it had to have been kicking around for centuries before his time), "Be bold and the mighty forces will come to your aid."

I find that the majority of gutless, self-doubting moments can be cured by one of these two sentiments. I hope they provide you with the same relief.

On a day that I was particularly down, last Sunday actually, I was lamenting the loss of my life to others i.e. work and school, and was reminded what life is truly about. Without having been asked, just because they are friends, Lauren and Josh stopped by our house with my favorite dish of all time, plus dessert, and wine.

That gesture, which seemed so small to my two friends: it was a life vest. Scratch that, it was a life jacuzzi in the middle of a frigid tundra. I know that's dramatic, but it's also true, and, if you've been reading this for any length of time, you know that drama is one thing I'm guaranteed to deliver.

This Sunday, occurring concurrently with this entry, is a soup failure of epic proportions. While I'm sure my friends (hi, Hailey and Lars!) are astounded and oh so proud that I'm actually attempting to cook, they should know that although my split pea soup sure tastes good, it looks and tastes absolutely nothing like split pea soup.

I'll post the recipe later with all of my learning experiences.

PS - The recipe is from Food & Wine—I have the wine part nailed
PPS - Have I done any wedding planning? Of course not! But, if I ever do, you'll be the first to know.

In case you missed it

The Derek and Matt Colbert Report segment:

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Invitation Inspiration

We're tossing around the notion of leterpressing unusual animals on each of our invitations... Even potentially sending each invitee a unique little guy all there own with no one else having another thing like it! How very special... That reminds me of when we were kids and you had to sing about how we're all V.I.Ps (you know, very important peeps). Anywho, this pictorial webster's dictionary is a definite inspiration for this little project.

Logos

On my love designing an interior design logo for me:

ME: i love you. thank you. i can't emphasize enough how much i appreciate your talent

HAIGEN: you're so nice.

ME: especially since the logo i designed for myself makes me want to methodically fillet my skin off.*



*Yes, I am dramatic, but you guys don't even understand the horror. It looks like my aesthetic is somewhere in between "Polygamist Cowgirl" and "Victorian Syphilis Epidemic Whorehouse."