Bon Jour my sweets.

Let me preface this entry with the inevitable apology for getting caught up in the holidays.

...no. I can't apologize for such a thing.  Without the holidays where would I, the queen of theme, be?  I love Christmas.

I love going home to bake cookies with my family (ladies only) and then enjoying the fine work for the following week.  I'm sad to report that I didn't take any photos of the cookie filled weekend I had since I had no memory card at the time.  However, we're back in business now and things are moving along at a nice clip.

So, how was your respective holiday? Mine was fantastic.  Let's leave it at that for now as I'm sure my upcoming posts will surely demonstrate the wonderful gifts I've received.

But oh ho ho (picture that as a deep French sounding laugh). What's thees? (this is my typed out French accent.  Keep up.)

I have some peectures yet for you to see.


Behold zee death of any diet plans een our future.  Zee deep fryer!  And to explain my accent:



Deelicious beignets.  French doughnuts! (okay I'm done with the accent thing.  It is too hard.)

These babies were AMAZING.  A great first choice for my newest appliance.  Based on the success of this endeavor I'm greatly looking forward to deep frying some empanadas for my New Year's Eve party. mmm.

I plan on having a wonderous time.  You should too!

An Open Letter

Dear Friend,

Do you ever worry that you won't be able to fit into the conventional idea of what success is?  When I was a kid I would talk about how important money was and that when I was older I would live in a mansion with a guest house for my mom to live in.  I guess that I always assumed money was the most important thing that could lead to a happy life.

When I was in high school I got it set in my little head that I wanted to be a clinical psychologist and that I should definitely study that in college.  So I did. And I never doubted it throughout my college career until I was a senior and realized that I just wasn't feeling it anymore.  I still love the idea of having a career that revolves around helping people but I have no interest in a career that has me in a room with no coworkers and only crazy people (i.e. people like me).

Maybe that's why I didn't like my most recent job.  I hated working alone everyday in a building filled with people who didn't work for the same company.  I very much dislike being lonely.  But who doesn't hate that? Exactly.

So, now I talk about going to school for baking and pastry arts.  Because I truly love baking.  And I love the way that a cupcake or a cookie can brighten someone's day.  Because I'm good at it.  Or so people say.

But how can I know that is something I really want to do? How do I know that it's not something that will be another waste of time and money?  How do I know that in the end I can make a career out of something like that?  I don't know.  Maybe that's good though.  Not knowing.

By definition blogs are selfish.  They're about talking about your thoughts so that you can normalize the way you think. Feel.  With a community of strangers who need the same recognition.  Man. I love the community.

I would love to write old fashioned letters.  And share my hopes and dreams with someone who you know will read it.  Because there's no way to know if this internet letter is reaching anyone on a personal level.  But that's what you're for friend.  For sharing and divulging secrets.

Here's one: I'm terrified that I won't be able to maintain this life I love if I can't figure out what I'm doing in the next few weeks.  How's that for a doozie?

I clearly have too much time on my hands with this whole unemployment thing.  Look what I'm doing to this letter.  Babbling on about myself.  Ha.  How are you old friend?  Did everything work out for you in the end?  I hope that life is treating you well.  And I hope to hear from you soon.

Your Friend,

Amanda

Cookie is Mine

This is why we can't have nice things

Well, I'm officially sick.  Which means that it is officially winter.

My body has this tendency to get throat sick a lot this time of year.  And attack any plans I may have had to having fun.

Luckily, I was able to go out on the town last weekend before my impending doom.  I had a lovely visitor from the east side of the state agree to join the gang at the Ritz for some imbibing.  (Is that right?) Not only were drinks had but there were a few fantastic karaoke sing alongs.  I sang Cher.  I've been told that it was amazing.

And then we walked home in the cold and icy night. Drunk.  Thinking back, this may be the cause of my current sickness.  The whole singing real loud accompanied by snow frolicking is not good on the immune system.

And now I'm under a self imposed house arrest.  Wherein I've begun reading the Sookie Stackhouse novels and knitting scarves and whatnot.  And watching the cat run around making a mockery of my balls of yarn.  And sleeping til noon because of an off bran Nyquil induced coma.  Ahh yes.  It certainly is winter.

The Weather Outside is Delightful

Seriously now. It's completely beautiful outside.

Ash spent the morning begging me to come outside and play.  Finally, at around noontime I gave in and we ventured out.

Since last night's post, we received a gift of like 3 to 4 more inches of snow.  It's amazing how fast things can change.  One week ago we were walking around without jackets.  Now I'm bundled up in my new parka, romping around in several inches of snow. What?

Where are my toesies?


I really think that winter is only beautiful when you don't have to drive in it.  And the fact that Karaoke Friday is in walking distance excites me to no end.  I mean, come on.  Running through the snow with a group of awesome friends while inebriated sounds utterly fantastic, doesn't it?

Mommm. Can we pleeeease play now?

There's nothing cuter than my baby, Ash in the winter.  He may be 6 years old now. But that's not stopping him from acting like a puppy when there's snow on the ground.

It makes me insanely happy to see him like this.  I think he's happy I'm home all day to cater to his playful whims.  And to bake cookies that he can sniff.  And to snug.   Mostly to snug.



Seriously, look at this face.

I'm so excited to finally be enjoying seasons that aren't summer.  I still hate snow when it comes to travel.  And when it gets all slushy and gross.  And when it covers my car.  But right now, it's not terribly cold.  And there aren't too many foot prints ruining the blanket of fresh snow.  So I'm happy.

First Snow

We got our first real snow tonight.  It really is beautiful.

I'll take better pictures during the day but Ash is SO excited! This is his absolute favorite time of year.



[caption id="attachment_222" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Trust me. He's excited. All the other shots were blurred from running."][/caption]

This is the kind of thing that makes me excited to watch bad movies while wrapped in a blanket, sipping on a hot chocolate. Mmm.

What are you looking forward to this season?

Shacking Up: Everybody Poops

I've decided that this blog is missing some structure.  And that it's a good idea to introduce a little structure by way of segments.

Now you'll be able to check in periodically (or subscribe) and see posts that are somewhat cohesive. Or something.

Anyway, my first new addition is going to be titled "Shacking Up".  And it's my guide to living in sin with your significant other.  It's very much only related to my experiences in this department and is in no way meant to generalize towards the rest of the shacking up population.



One of the biggest differences between not living with your boyfriend and living with your boyfriend is poo.

See, a lot of guys are completely not ready for the shared bathroom scenario.  As my brother once said, girls don't poop.  And it's hard to shatter that image.  But trust me, girls poop.  And if you live with one you'll learn that a lot of them poo only at home.  So get used to it.

After a few months of communal bathrooming, you become more comfortable with you SO and then something kind of weird may happen.  You may (or maybe it's just us) start tinkling with the door ajar.  I've decided to view this as a sign that we're just that much more comfortable with each other.

That's right, hearing a steady stream is a sign of accomplishment in a relationship.

However, do not think that it's okay to drop a deuce with the door open.  That's a never gonna happen - never want to hear situation.  But you will become more comfortable discussing bowel movements while watching reruns of Scrubs.  And you'll be surprised at the frequency with which you toot in mixed company.

It's a sign of the times. And times they are a changing.

...Oh God. Did I really just talk about poop? It looks like we're all shacking up now...