Oh give me a home...

where organic veggies roam, and the skies are not cloudy all day.

For many years I never planted a garden because I never knew when I would, literally, be pulling up my roots. But this year I got tired of waiting for home, and put some plants in the ground. 

Now instead of buying produce from Chile at the grocery store that's been sprayed down with every pesticide known to man I'm picking organic bell peppers and tomatoes and cucumbers and eggplants in my back yard. (Actually the eggplants aren't in yet, but soon... soon.)

Happy fourth of July 2012!

Hope everyone had a happy and safe fourth of July! 

We had a ball!

Father's Day 2012

For Father's Day this year I, ahem, Elsie, got Peter tickets to see his beloved Yankees playing our Braves here in Atlanta.  

I had to sell both my kidneys to afford parking, but it was worth it for him to be able to take his mini-me to her first baseball game. 

In a bizarre twist of fate we were seated just in front of the world's loudest hasidic jews, which is exactly where we were seated at our last game at Yankee stadium. I know Dr A appreciated being seated near other Yankees fans- also, they were nice enough to take this picture for me- 

Now I know how Hasselhoff feels

One of the many many things I'm thankful for right now...

is my international fan-base. It's always kind of awkward to explain to local friends who wonder how I make any money off my art that I'm weirdly popular overseas, particularly in Germany. This month has found me at the post office filling out stacks of customs forms, which the post-office lady feels necessary to comment on each one- "wooooo girl, aint they got this in Singapore? Why they want you to mail it all the way out there?" My answer is always, "nope, there's only one me, and I'm right here."    

The art we love the most is that which expresses our truest self.

Usually, when I'm posting about art it's my own, but lately I've been kind of obsessed with my favorite artist Frieke Janssen's new series "Smoking Kids". I can't say exactly what it is about this particular series that I find so compelling- maybe because I spend so much of my time in endeavors to maintain/benefit the good health of my own daughter... it seems surreal to see children engaging in a harmful self-destructive behavior, like smoking.

Maybe it's because kids really do grow up soooo fast these days, and their adultesque expressions underlie the innocence and sweetness that's more natural to kids their age. Maybe because it's what smoking represents- a lack of concern for one's physical well-being, a need for relaxation beyond what one can conjure up without some kind of aid, and, perhaps, a sense of having given up a little. This girl with a sleepy jaded dreaminess,

in particular, is my favorite... probably because I see so much of myself in this portrait, and not just because I have a heart locket I love, and a pink sweater I could wear every day of the winter. At her age she should be happy and energetic, but she just looks so defeated and jaded. She looks exhausted and overwhelmed and full of dead dreams. I want to give her a hug, pour her a glass of milk... and maybe join her in a smoke. 

------------Post edit------------------------------------------------- 

You can see all of Frieke's work HERE. Also, like me, none of the kids in the photos are actually smoking- it's all painted chalk and incense.

Chicken Soup for the teething toddler: Frozen Celery

I can't solve the world's problems.

I can't go back in time.

I can't give Dr A the medical residency he deserves.

I can't seem to make my mind stop racing long enough to get a fracking decent night's sleep.

But today... today I was a rock star to a fifteen month old because, even though I'm not the doctor, I was able to take away her pain today. In fifteen months, my sweet girl only grew four teeth, then this week, almost her entire mouth has turned red and swollen. Everything, whether it's my Dr Who box set or Dr A's $100 copy of Harrison's, becomes a teething toy the second it comes within her reach. Only one thing is so soothing I get a standing ovation the second I bring it out- frozen celery.           
 She's always loved celery, but one day I put it on the top shelf of my fridge (we call it the slushy shelf, because it's way colder than the rest of the fridge and turns cans of soda into partially frozen slushies) and the miracle that is frozen celery was introduced. Now she goes around with celery in her mouth like a tiny ridiculous mobster with a cigar. After about an hour of being toted around and gnawed on I have to pry it from her tiny furious fists and replace it with a fresh one. I hate hate hate using analgesics like orajel almost as much as I hate to see her in pain, so I'm thrilled to have found a completely organic remedy to her teething pain. Never in a million years would I have thought that frozen celery would be something I couldn't live without. but it is.    

   

Goldfinch Rush

"Birds of a Feather"

20 X 16 inches

Acrylic on canvas

$120 (Or best offer)

I haven't posted a new painting online for a while because I've had my hands full with other projects, namely taking care of Elsie, helping Dr A apply for jobs and write letters to various residency program directors inquiring about observerships/ residencies/research positions, and my new favorite "fun-time" project of writing/ illustrating books for (and about) Elsie. I really don't want to reveal too much of the "Elsie And..." project until I have the first three finished and printed. In the meantime, buy these birds!

The best chicken and dumplin's recipe. period.

Mama Sha's Old Fashioned Chicken & Dumplin's

If you are looking to put a little meat on your bones this recipe will do the trick! It has about a year's worth of carbs, but it is soooo good. It's simple and hearty and will warm you to your very soul. I don't put veggies in mine, but you could easily add some carrots or celery to add a little variety to it.

I don't know how many times I've been asked for this recipe, but since it's one of those things I learned to cook from my grandma it's been really hard to nail down specific measurements for the ingredients. This is definitely one of those old fashioned recipes where you after a few tries you'll be able to cook it without looking at the recipe at all. Here's an actual conversation that took place a few years ago when I was first trying to make it:

Me: "How much flour do I need?"

Memaw: "I don't know... enough to make it thick."

Me: "How much salt should I add?"

Memaw: "However much salt you like baby."

Me: "How long should I cook it?"

Memaw: "Till it's done."

After trying to learn my grandma's recipes I had so much more insight into why my own mom didn't learn to cook until after she started watching Food Network:You can't get recipes out of people who don't use them.

Ingredients
1 (10.75 ounce) can cream of chicken soup
16 ounces chicken broth
1/2 cup milk
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
3 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves - cut into strips
1 teaspoon celery seed
salt and ground black pepper to taste

1 cup sifted all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup milk
2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1) Boil the chicken (this step also gives you your chicken broth if you don't like the canned stuff).
2) Tear the chicken into bite size pieces.
3) In a large saucepan or Dutch oven, stir together the cream of chicken soup, chicken broth, and milk.
4) Add the chicken and bring to a simmer over medium heat.
5)To Make Dumplings: In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, baking powder and salt. In a small bowl, mix together 1/2 cup of milk and 2 tablespoons of oil. Pour into the dry ingredients, stirring just until moistened.

6)Drop tablespoonfuls of the dumpling mixture into the chicken stew ONLY AFTER IT IS AT A STEADY BOIL. Cover pot tightly, and simmer for another 12 to 15 minutes. Ladle into bowls, and serve hot.

This particular version feeds 2 or three people depending on how hungry you are (although I should warn you that it's a pretty heavy dish so it doesn't take much of the stuff to feel full.) To feed 4 or more I'd recommend doubling the recipe.


---------Post Edit-------------------------------------------
Dr A is still desperately seeking a PGY1 residency. In anything. Anywhere. Seriously, a residency in toe fungus medicine in Northern Alaska would be like winning the lottery right now. He's going to take the USMLE Step 3 at the end of the Summer, but he still really needs either a research position, an observership, or a residency, but so far we haven't found been able to get him a position in any of those. His grades were all pretty good (even though he did have to take Step 2 twice) and he got honors in all his clinicals, so it's still really mystifying/frustrating that he hasn't been able to move forward yet.

Easter 2012

Easter 2012

The Easter Bunny came!

Eggs were found.

Cutie-pie cousins were played with.

Chocolates were eaten!
Hope your Easter was just as hoppy :)

A Sinewy Silver Lining

There was a box in my closet marked sell/giveaway full of pants that only a few months ago I thought I could never ever ever ever ever fit into after having a baby.

Then my body started confusing the fight/flight response to extreme stress with fight/flight/vomitconstantly/neversleep.

Seriously, I'm wearing high-school jeans as I sit here typing this.

This past month probably shaved years off my total lifespan, but it's shaved six sizes off my hips.

I figured I could one day get back down to my pre-baby weight, but now I weigh less than I did pre-baby, and I have a lot more muscle than I ever have before.

Of course, pair the dramatic involuntary weight loss with the dark circles around my eyes and you find my parents buying me a truckload of groceries to make sure I'm eating well.

The weight loss I don't mind, but I could really do with some sleep.

I hate being stressed out all the time.

I wish God would give me some kind of sign that things will work out.

How many years can you pray without getting any response of any kind before you stop believing those prayers are being heard?

At least I have my health (sort of) and my daughter, so I have that to be thankful for. As long as I have that much I know I can figure out a way to make everything else work.

War by Sebastian Junger

I'm currently reading THIS book. It's non-fiction about US soldiers fighting in the Korengal Valley of Afghanistan. “The Korangal Valley,” Junger explains, “is sort of the Afghanistan of Afghanistan: too ­remote to conquer, too poor to intimidate, too autonomous to buy off.” It's required reading, but it's excellent. I wish everyone who wasted their time on Hunger Games would go out and pick up a copy- if only so they'd realize that people are out there fighting and dying this very moment.

And it really is almost like a game:

"In April, the United States Army closed its bases in the Korangal Valley and sent the soldiers to other places. After five years of fighting and dying, American commanders decided the valley wasn’t worth the fight. War indeed."

God Bless America (indeed)

The Bed That Broke the Camel's Back

Post Edit: If you've been reading for a while, you know that things have gone terribly wrong lately, and this is just another post to allow me to vent so that I don't yell at people in real life. If you're new here, I don't recommend continuing. This is not a good place to start. In general, if there's no pictures, you can bet I'm just venting.

I am not an optimist.

Years of life experience have instilled in me a sense of skepticism and cynicism so strong that it's taken over almost all my other personality traits. I don't always express it, but my inner dialog is generally so harsh that it makes Lewis Black sound like an effiminate camp counselor.

Regardless of all the hard won steeliness the years have granted me, I think back to myself a month ago, and I don't know how I could have let myself temporarily become that person.

For one glorious month I was sure everything would work out.

I was hopeful.

Optimistic even.

I was happy and looking forward to the future more than I had in years.

There was a letter sitting on Dr A's desk that essentially said "We want you as a resident."

I was looking for a new apartment in a new city.

Elsie was getting the cutest bedroom set you've ever seen.

I had the suitcases dusted and ready to go.

Then came March.

No Match.

The letter was a lie.

Instead of looking for a three bedroom in a new town, I have to look for someplace smaller and cheaper in my current town.

The suitcases went back into the attic.

Elsie still needed a big girl bed, and like with all the other false promises of February, she wouldn't be getting the cutest set you've ever seen. (Seriously, the first time I saw it, I thought, "Wow, that is literally the sweetest furniture a little girl could ask for." I was thrilled, delighted, and shocked when told that Elsie could just have it since the owner didn't like it anymore.

I couldn't believe it.

Seriously, I couldn't believe it- when I see a gift horse, I don't look it in the mouth. I put up my shield and wait for a Trojan army to attack.)

Even if we are having to downsize, Elsie is still getting too big for her crib.

My friend Kellie had offered me her son's old toddler bed, but I'd politely declined since I thought Elsie was all set in the bedding department.

I called Kellie to see if the offer was still good, but she'd taken it to the Salvation Army. So I drove down to the Salvation Army, hoping I could get it for a steal, but it was gone.

I spent the rest of the day trying to find Elsie furniture. Finally, I found something I could afford. It was ugly and damaged in a last-of-its-kind-floor-model kind of way, but I could give it a coat of paint and make it work. So I found a salesman.

Sold.

It was already sold, it just hadn't been picked up.

I went home, but Elsie was napping happily in the backseat, enjoying the cool spring air from the open windows, so I just sat in my driveway and sobbed.

Not for any reason in particular, but because I knew that someone would be filling the residency spot that I thought was Dr. A's. They would never appreciate it half as much as Dr A would. They couldn't possibly need it as much.

Because (*stomping my feet*) I don't wanna sell/giveaway all my stuff so I can squeeze into a tiny apartment once again.

Because "the cutest bedroom set you've ever seen" had been sold for a song to someone who will never appreciate it as much as I would have, without even giving me a heads up so I could buy it.

Because my bad luck precluded me from even buying ugly furniture.

Because I had allowed myself the luxury of optimism, only to have my hopes destroyed so thoroughly it shook my faith in all things I still had faith in.

Because the cruelest thing you can do to a hard-hearted girl is to give her hope, then take it away.

Something I Forgot To Mention:

In the midst of all Dr A's soul crushing drama I forgot to mention one very pleasant thing that occurred recently- I got the grades back from my mid-terms, and across the board- I made the highest grades. Even in the class where I thought I would barely pass the test, I ended up making the only perfect score!

I do have Dr A to thank in large part- because of his uncanny ability to remember everything he's ever learned in school he makes an excellent tutor.

Also, one of my essays is being added to the handbook my professors uses, as an example of how it should be done!

I know it doesn't really make a difference in the frame of reference that our life is totally going down the crapper, but having a little something I can be proud of for myself is definitely a little pick-me-up. My only wish is that college professors would use those shiny gold stars that elementary teachers use. I do love me some shiny gold stars- to this day when I flip through my old piano sheet music for something to warm up my harp with, I still feel a pang of pride when I see those 20 year old shiny stars that remind me how my tiny fingers once rocked those songs on my music teacher's piano.

Farewell to facebook...

I de-activated my facebook account last week.

I miss it terribly, but my little family is going through incredibly hard times, and my beloved facebook friends only made it worse. I got so many messages last week, and I really didn't want to reply to them, but at the same time, I really didn't want people to think I'm ignoring them (even though, for my own sanity, I am). So, I decided it would be best to just digitally disappear for a while, until I have something more positive I can say.

It's not that I mind explaining what's going on, but most people wouldn't understand.

If you and your spouse have never spent a decade of youth, and 200000+ dollars pursuing a dream, only to watch it die over the span of three years, then it's hard to understand.

If you've never given up everything in exchange for something that turned out to be nothing, then you probably wouldn't understand.

If you aren't a doctor, or the spouse of a doctor then you probably won't understand the immense weight of this statement: Dr A didn't get a match... again.

What does this mean, laymen?

It means that for another year everything we've spent the better part of a decade working toward is on hold.

It means that we have to start paying back student loans, without the career that those students loans were spent on.

It means we have to find someplace new (re: cheaper) to live.

It means depression, anger, frustration...

It means another year of struggling to get by.

It means I just want to hide from everyone I know until March 2013, even though I could be writing this same post next year too, because when it comes to the NRMP there are no guarantees.

Basically, it means we're screwed.

scenes on a screen

Have you ever been watching a really bad movie, perhaps because your sweetie really wanted to see it?

It dragged, didn't make sense, involved characters that were impossible to understand, and in general was just so frustrating that you wanted to walk out of it? That's how I feel about my life right now. I'm stuck watching while things go wrong and there's really nothing I can do to change any of it. I can't alter the events unfolding before me- all I can change is where I'm sitting.

The Best Year

I can't believe it's been a whole year since I welcomed this lovely little lady into my life:

It's been an incredibly quick year,

But I can't shake the feeling that it's the only year of my life.

Did I live before she looked at me with those big beautiful eyes?

What did I do before there were sweet (albeit disgustingly slobbery) baby kisses to look forward to?

Somewhere in my head, smushed behind my knowledge of VeggieTales and the correct dosage of infant tylenol, there are memories of a girl who traveled, who read dozens of books on a Caribbean beach, who lived in a NYC high-rise and took two trains to work, but that person who put on Kings Of Leon and painted with wanton disregard of passing time and the amount of chemicals being inhaled, pretty much only shares my fingerprints (although I did a pretty good job of burning those off in a restaurant a few years ago). I can't imagine living in a world where my laundry doesn't smell like baby detergent, where there aren't mysterious snacks abandoned in random locales all over the house (a cookie in the bath tub?), where nobody laughs hysterically when I throw the sheets up like a parachute over head. I went a lot of places and did a lot of very important stuff in the first 25 years of my life but the last one is the only one I lived.

A couple of bears at a farm...

I'm not really a people person, but when I'm feeling ill, (re: right now) I'm especially prone to being a crank. Honestly, I kind of feel like a grouchy old bear trapped in a lady costume.

(Not that it takes illness for me to relate to bear-dom. I know most people would probably like to think that if they were an animal they'd be birds or cats or something sweet, but not me. My animal self would probably be a cranky old Momma bear- hanging out in the mountains by some river ready to tear apart the first person to try and hurt her cub. Also, Winter- I could sleep through it.)

I guess the flip side of that would be my little lady who likes to hang out in her bear costume. These pics were taken at Cooper's tree farm. Geez, from just reading my blog it kind of looks like I spend an inordinate amount of time hanging out at farms, but it's Georgia, so yeah.

Things I Forgot To Mention #3... Water Lily costume

The thing I forgot to mention about Elsie's water lily Halloween costume... After looking at every single costume for 6-9 month old babes I still couldn't find one I liked, so I got out my sketch pad and drew up a water lily costume. Then I stitched every last stitch with my two tired hands, right down to the little satin booties. It took me over a week to sew but in the end, I think it was so worth it to give my little lady a completely unique, entirely custom made dress to wear for her first Halloween. Also, because she is so tiny, it only took about a yard of fabric to make (not counting some of the details where I used stuff I had on hand.) Which means that I paid A LOT less money than all those crappy ma de-in-China ones in the stores. The white petals were reincarnated from an old work blouse that didn't fit well (ever) and the fluffy underskirt was cut from the bridesmaid dress my mom wore to my aunt's wedding in the late 80's. (Oh, you can bet I've got more plans for that hot pink monster!) For the headband I didn't make any pattern at all- I just free handed it, and I was so thrilled with the results. I loved making the headband so much, that when I get a little free time I want to open an Etsy store selling nothing but unique head gear. I was actually shocked with how much she loved wearing the whole get-up! Maybe it was because she got so much attention- everywhere we went people goo-ed and gah-ed over her! Even the lady working the window in the Wendy's drive through as we stopped for a frosty on our way home exclaimed, "She looks like a flower princess!"

(She's totally playing air guitar.)

As I was undressing her after our little in home photo shoot I couldn't help but pause to take a picture of her looking like one of those Cabbage Patch dolls at Babyland General Hospital with their heads poking out of the cabbage!

Things I Forgot To Mention... about the sunflower outfit

Did you like Elsie's outfit from the last post?

I forgot to mention that I totally made it.

Well, I made it cute.

Before I go any further in writing this I'd like to take you back about twenty years.

To a Wal-Mart.

In Dawsonville Georgia.

You see kids, back in those days Wal-Marts were not "super". They closed at 9 pm (earlier than that on Sundays), and sold a somewhat limited range of items. (Limited here meaning that you could only buy a shot-gun, tennis balls, a fish-tank, some fish to go in your fish-tank, and some cheap blue jeans- unlike today where you can get all those things AND a ham with Paula Deen's face on it... at 2 am.) Also, back in those days (1991) they ALL sold fabric too- which brings me back to where I'd like to take you- the fabric aisle of a Wal-Mart in 1991: the place where I bought my first fabric. I can't remember what my Memaw (re: Grandmother) had brought me there to buy- in all likelihood some of the aforementioned cheap blue jeans- but I was not leaving without a yard of what I considered to be the most beautiful fabric I'd ever seen. It was red and white gingham- dress weight- with bright blossoming sunflowers printed all over. Memaw asked me what I was going to make with it, and I said, "Everything." I wanted a dress made out of that material. I wanted a shirt covered in those glorious sunflowers. I wanted my bedspread to look like an autumn picnic. And a hat. And shoes, too. Memaw asked me how much of it I wanted and I spread out my arms, and she must have misunderstood me, because a gesture which in I meant to infer a measurement of "infinity" she took as "about a yard". Clearly she didn't understand my deep love of, and grandiose plans for "the most beautiful fabric ever made". Still, to my six year old eyes, a full yard of the stuff looked pretty darn close to infinity. Over that Summer I fretted over what to make. Barbie got a dress made out of the stuff- that goes without saying- then, realizing I didn't have quite enough to upholster my entire room, I sewed a little pillow in the shape of a heart. At this point a third of it was gone! I had to be realllly discerning with what I made next- fortunately that is where my Brad's aunt Johnnie came in. In my eyes there was absolutely nothing she couldn't make, so when she offered to babysit us one day at her house I brought my precious precious sunflower gingham along. Like Memaw before her, she asked me what I wanted to make out of it, and I showed her a picture I had drawn- kind of a rudimentary pattern. On the back was a picture of me wearing the finished product- kind of an insane sunflower covered wedding dress, with a matching giant sunflower covered hat. She looked at the fabric with my jagged zigzag cuts in it where Barbie's dress and my "heart" shaped pillow had come from and broke the news to me- there wasn't enough there do to much with, but she might just be able to get a little sundress out of it for me. I consoled myself to the fact that there would be no giant matching hat and entrusted her ever skillful hands with my prized material. What came out of it was no cinderella-at-the-ball-looking-insane wedding dress, but it was the sweetest little sundress my heart had ever seen. I wore the heck out of it. My mom even bought me a hat with a big silk sunflower glued to the front of it to go with it. Aunt Johnnie put the scraps into a little plastic bag for me, and I kept those scraps in my dresser- I knew someday I would have something I could do with them, but it had to be reallllly good and special to warrant the use of my beloved sunflower gingham.

Years went by, and I moved out, and moved around a dozen more times. Over the years I saw most of my belongs get sold, broken, lost, given away, thrown away, but a few things remained safe in my parent's basement. Then this year I moved back to Georgia and my mom asked me to clean out her basement. That was when I found my tiny bag of scraps that brought back the memory of my very first sewing projects inspired by a material I adored. I emptied the bag and the contents were so few that sewn completely together, you could barely get one quilt square out of it, but I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it: make something for Elsie. I'd waited years to find something that merited it's use and the time had finally come. I took a pair of plain boys overalls, and stitched it over the bottom cuffs, having to "Frankenstien stitch" in the back a little because I didn't have quite enough of one solid piece, so I had to put a few scraps together in order to go all the way around. I put the last tiny scrap across the front pocket, and finally sewed on a bow made of matching ribbon I had lying around. I knew the outfit wouldn't be complete without a matching hat or something of the sort, so I disassembled a big silk sunflower and stitched it to a strip I cut out of an old red t-shirt to make a headband. Elsie probably has 100 outfits, but this one is my favorite. .

Things I forgot to mention... In October

In October we went to Burt's pumpkin farm, which, if you live in North Georgia is THE place to go to buy a pumpkin. It's not just about buying a pumpkin, it's the whole "visiting the pumpkin farm" thing. All the cool kids go there. (And by "cool kids" I actually mean dorky parents who get their jollies going places and having wholesome fun with their family).

I really just wanted to go to take pictures of Elsie looking adorable in the giant pumpkin patch, and maybe take the hay ride, where halfway through, the ride stops at a little barn-stage thing and animatronic pumpkin-people things come out and tell you about Jesus. (True story.) I was going to just buy a tiny pumpkin to take home, and paint Elsie's name on or something cute like that, but Grandma and Grandpa insisted on getting us the biggest bestest pumpkin you ever saw.

It took several days of planning and sketching to decide what I wanted to carve out of such an awesome vegetable canvas. At one point it was going to be a cat, at another point I was going to try to do something inspired by my art deco book, but in the end I just sat down with a knife and started carving away until I got a face I was pleased with. My trusty sidekick helped out by pushing errant seeds through the slits in the deck- we'll surely have a pumpkin plant growing under there next year! Then the pumpkin ate her!

But she was pretty happy about it.

It was really warm and I had put a towel down inside the pumpkin to protect her from encountering any lingering pumpkin guts. I don't think anyone sends out cards for Halloween, but wouldn't this just make the cutest Halloween card?

The face I got out of my pumpkin didn't turn out too bad either! I know she's too young to remember her first trip to the pumpkin farm, but hopefully one day she'll enjoy looking at the pictures from such a sweet day!

Things I forgot to mention...

I joined Blogger in 2006.

I became a regular blogger in 2008.

I wrote constantly.

We moved out of the country, we moved back to the US, we moved to NYC, then we came back to Georgia.

In 2011 Elsie was born and my online presence became a ghost of it's former self, generally consisting of Facebook status updates from my phone while nursing. (Mind you, I never posted updates about nursing, thank you very much.)

Then I got tied up in a writing project of massive proportions, which, sadly, goes yet unfinished.

Then the holidays came, and as they waltzed in, all my free time waltzed out in the flurry to make make make paintings and pillows and ornaments and scarves and frames and wreathes and curtains and candles.

And then suddenly it was 2012, and even though the world *may* end this year (or whatever) I went back to college. Honest to goodness college complete with professors and desks and $200 text books. Oh my!

So here it is the middle of January 2012 and it's after 2 am and I was lying awake in bed thinking of all the things that I'd like to do tomorrow- meet up with a girlfriend, finish a paper (actually, I should probably be working on that right now instead of writing this, but come on- this will only take a minute and besides, what kind of a college student would I be if I didn't have a deep seated love of procrastination?), also fold all the laundry and vacuum the living room made the list but they're both too loud to do right now, and I dare NOT wake my little sleeping beauty or her father.

And as I was lying there in bed thinking of all the things I should have accomplished earlier and everything I want to do tomorrow (hopefully after a little sleep) I realized how much I missed blogging. So I got out of bed and scrolled through my blog's pathetic little posts for the past year, and realized that not only have I missed the writing aspect, but I miss reading my own posts, especially in a year that has brought so much change and joy I can't help but feel a sharp tinge of regret that I didn't document it better, so I'd like to take the next couple of posts and call them "Things I Forgot To Mention..."