Sunday Night Dinners

It's been a long road, but I've finally found the itch.  To cook that is.  It's becoming somewhat of a routine to actually prepare for myself, so long as I am back home before 8:00 p.m. (anytime after is too risky with my hunger level to wait for anything).  Sundays though I like to reserve for whipping something new, typically coming from my Pinterest board.  I find a great sense of joy in something edible, and somewhat pretty emerging from the oven after a long battle with the rest of the kitchen.  While at this time in my life, I don't have a family to cook for, it's always a good time to start a habit like "family meals."  Sundays have always been my cherished of days, and I'd like to think not too long from now they will be even more so.

Recipe from Martha Stewart Living,  originally found on A Cup of Jo

Manners

Didn't your mother teach you to have good manners?  That's at least what I find myself silently questioning passersby more often than not.  This even for instance I found myself completely offended that two other patrons at my neighborhood nail salons had no common courtesy for the extremely kind staff.  One girl sat in the chair with her headphones in the whole time, and completely brushed off her technician when help was offered.  Lord knows how much energy she wasted keeping a scowl on her face the entire time.  Then there was the woman who spent the entire time on her cell phone while the owner of shop was prettying up her fingernails!  How is that even possible?  

It really broke my heart in a couple places to know people could be so inconsiderate to such kind people.  Of course the great joy of heartache can be the repentance of your own past mistakes.  In an effort to apologize on the behalf of all girls who truly appreciate the servitude in their quest for beauty I choose to wear a smile a little wider tomorrow.  More importantly though, taking a stance against all unkind words born from my own lips, I choose to think twice.  Which is all we can really hope for in people, right?

Be nice.  The world is a small town.  --Austin Kleon

{Image Credit: The Sartorialist}

A Tad Irrational

For the most part, I would think that people would describe me as a quite rational person.  I wake pretty early every morning to the sound of my alarm, and have all my bearings as I walk out the door (save for this morning when I forgot my lunch).  People trust me to make decisions in my job, and even will seek me for advisement.  I also always check and double check the stove and oven not only before, but after cooking a meal.  Lately though it seems I've had quite a few irrational thoughts.  It's my hope that the older (and wiser) you get, the more "prepared" you become for the unexpected.

Here's a short list of my recent intellectual frenzies:

• I will have absolutely zero hobbies or interests once the 2012 Olympics end on Sunday
• I could fly off of a boating tube and and become permanently injured from whiplash
• That I may die of hunger in my sleep tonight if I don't consume an ice cream sandwich
• That I will never leave my apartment if made to live outside of the Gold Coast
• I will never don a uniquely styled outfit again if veered off from my closet quadrant system
• That I will wakeup on December 26th completely void of all feeling from not celebrating Christmas to the complete fullness I am capable of

{Image via Pinterest}

Keep Freakin'

This week I am starting out with a different approach from last's.  Really that just means getting back to the basics.  Having an agenda and sticking to it.  Remembering that each morning has a possible to end in large ways.  Most importantly though, keeping in mind all the things that can make me a happy camper.  

So in other words...let's wreak some havoc!

{Image via Design for Mankind}

Olympic Darling

Well I should have known it was coming.  The moment when I would become Olympics-crazed.  I really am not sure who I was kidding believing otherwise.  If for nothing else, there are two things the Olympics mean to me:  the U.S. men's swim team and tearful commercials.  And what do you know, Ryan Lochte is the common denominator for that?  Nifty.