My holiday break is over in 15 hours! Sadly, many of those hours will be spent sleeping, so really my break is over in, like, 7 hours. It went too fast, just like the holidays always do. I start my intersession class at K-State tomorrow, and while it will be fun (it’s on Playback Theatre) I would rather be in bed until noon every day…or at least a couple more days.
I can’t believe the holidays are over already. I love the Christmas season. The lead-up is by far the best part for me. Christmas itself is just ok; mostly because I am so sick of the gift-giving situation. Don’t get me wrong, I like picking up something thoughtful for someone, but this business with lists, and expectations, and counting presents is for the birds. I also appreciate getting money and gift cards and such (and I have given those presents as well) but really, does anything say “I care the least amount possible about what I am giving you” like a freaking gift card? Ugh. I’m going to have to switch it up next year, because it was kind of depressing this year.
Today we bought an Apple Airport Express wireless router today (with Christmas money, because I am a hypocrite) and it’s awesome!
We have had so many problems with our awful 2Wire router since we moved, so we just broke down today and bought the Apple. Why didn’t we do this 6 months ago? It took all of a half an hour to set up, and it wouldn’t have taken that long had I thought to reset the modem after hooking up the Airport. I recommend it highly, it is amazing.
Ugh. Now I have to shower and get ready for bed. My inner fourth-grader is preparing for a tantrum regarding her bedtime.
Here’s a hard truth you’re gonna have to wrap your mind around: I am pretty awesome at baking. Keep in mind, I am HORRIBLE at lots of other things in life, but since I am trying to have more confidence as part of “2010 - The Year I Get it Together” I am starting with my mad baking skillz.
Exhibit A: Chocolate Chip Scones
I had an amazing chocolate chip scone last week and have been obsessively thinking about recreating it ever since. Yesterday, I came pretty darn close; thanks to some tiny modifications to Alton Brown’s basic scone recipe. They are dense, ever so slightly salty, and packed with Ghirardelli chocolate chips (thanks for the suggestion, Carrie).
I am not as awesome at preparing full dinners, cooking meats or “throwing something together” from the fridge. But me and my food scale and some flour and sugar can make it happen 8 out of 10 times.
Now, onto to stopping myself from eating them all today.
I’ve been thinking about Johnny Rivers this week. This is him, singing his 1964 hit, Mountain of Love. Take a listen.
That song was playing in Russell’s Restaurant in Salina last Thursday night, while Ryan and I escaped our families and ate our traditional Christmas Eve dinner together. As I listened, I couldn’t help but think a couple things:
1. This is an amazing song.
2. I have certainly heard it in this restaurant before.
As I sat and ate my gigantic pancake, watching the snow fall and listening to Johnny Rivers sing, I kept thinking about the other times I had spent there.
When I was a little girl (6-7 years old) my Grandpa and Grandma Crawford would take me here for dinner when I spent the night with them on Fridays. I remember my favorite thing to eat then was roast beef and mashed potatoes with brown gravy on white bread. Man, it was good. Plus when I was with them, I always got to order my own plate of food and I did not have to order off the kids menu. That was so cool to me. I have no doubt that “Mountain of Love” played at some point when we dined there, as I sat in my tall wooden chair with my feet swinging below me.
Later on, from ages 15-18, Russell’s was the late night hang out spot where you went to waste time and drink coffee. The bonus was that at that time you could smoke in there, and that was always a good cover for why you smelled like smoke when you finally arrived at home (”I was at Russell’s!) when really you had been driving all over town with your friends while chain smoking. I can remember being in there with 8-10 other obnoxious teenagers as well as one-on-one with some cute, jerky boy I was trying to impress with my flannel shirt and badass attitude (full disclosure: I was most definitely NOT a badass). I never really ate there at that point in my life; it was coffee or nothing because eating wasn’t cool or something, I guess. I am sure Mountain of Love made a guest appearance at some point, but I probably thought it sucked.
I have spent quite a few evenings there since then. Awkward dinners with my mom after my parents got divorced (mom LOVES Russell’s and despises cooking), mini-family reunions (my extended family also LOVES Russell’s), even an occasional drunken late night meal or two when back in Salina. And now, Russell’s is all about Christmas Eve and pancakes and some much needed alone time for Ryan and I during the holidays.
As I sat there last week and listened to this song, I felt like it could have been 1984, 2009 or any year in between. That place hasn’t changed a bit, from the counter full of people eating huge plates of food all alone, to the brown tile floors to the music. I like to think that it’s somewhat of a time capsule.
I hope in some alternate universe somewhere I am still six years old, holding my grandma’s shirt cuff as she fills her plate at the salad bar; or sixteen, digging through the sugar packets to find the ones with King Kamehameha, pushing my hair behind my ear and hoping that I won’t say anything stupid.
For now I’m 32, and my grandma is in a nursing home. I’m married, and not terribly concerned with how cool I am anymore. But I am with my husband, and it is cold, and we’re drinking coffee and eating pancakes. It’s Christmas Eve.
And Johnny Rivers is still singing.
______________________________________________
Standing on the mountain looking down on the city
The way I feel is a doggone pity.
Teardrops falling down a mountainside
Many times I’ve been here
Many times I’ve cried
We used to be so happy
When we were in love
High on a mountain of love.
Night after night I’ve been standing here alone
Weeping my heart out to cold gray dawn
Praying that you’re lonely and you’ll come here too
Hoping just by chance that I get a glimpse of you
Trying hard to find you
Somewhere I love
High on a mountain of love.
A mountain of love
A mountain of love
You should be ashamed
We used to be a mountain of love
But you just changed your name
Way down below there’s a half a million people
Somewhere there’s a church with a big tall steeple
Inside a church there’s an altar filled with flowers
Wedding bells are ringing and they should have been ours
That’s why I’m so lonely
My dreams gone above
High on a mountain of love.
A mountain of love
A mountain of love
You should be ashamed
We used to be a mountain of love
But you just changed your name
Way down below there’s a half a million people
Somewhere there’s a church with a big tall steeple
Inside a church there’s an altar filled with flowers
Wedding bells are ringing that should have been ours
That’s why I’m so lonely
My dreams gone above
High on a mountain of love.
High on a mountain of love.
High on a mountain of love.
High on a mountain of love (fade)
1. A class that has to be taken over winter break, thus shortening my winter break by a week and a half.
2. Mass texts on holidays. Thanks, but no thanks.
3. Getting individual health insurance. Don’t even get me started. If anyone reading this is anti-health care reform, you should call me. Now.
4. The fact that the people who built our apartment decided to not create a seal on any of the doors, windows or floors. It is a drafty mofo up in here, yo.
5. Slightly tighter pants after a week of indulgence.
6. The fact that when you buy a Wii, it only comes with one controller.
7. The fact that an extra Wii controller costs $40.
8. Pooping in an excessively warm bathroom that a stranger just pooped in. (ie: in a gas station)
9. Too much free time. This one probably only applies to me and my broken brain that cannot function without structure.
There’s a brand new Godfather’s Pizza near our new place. Ryan and I decided to partake in their $5.99 lunch buffet (semi-against my will). The spread looked pretty standard until I looked down at the very end of the line…there it was. Sweet dessert pizza. If I didn’t have such a horrible memory and a long history of brain lockdown whenever someone says “what’s your favorite…” I may have at some point mentioned to you how one of the best desserts in the world is dessert pizza.
No one likes it as much as I do. Every time there is an order placed for pizza I secretly hope the place has dessert pizza. They rarely do. I think Pizza Hut discontinued theirs a while ago and most mom and pop places don’t have it. Plus no one else ever wants to order it. And just to clear things up, no; cinnamon breadsticks are not the same. They are a sorry excuse for dessert pizza.
I have never really understood what the allure of the dessert pizza was for me until a few weeks ago. Lawrence has one of those frozen yogurt places with like, six flavors of yogurt and a million topping options. I got plain vanilla and looked around for the perfect topping combo. What to get…they had every kind of crushed candy bar you could imagine, tons of various flavors of chips (chocolate, butterscotch, etc.), even some cereal options. As I got to the warm fruit and nut section (ie: the old people section) I reached for a scoop of walnuts when I found it: a white tupperware container with the words “struesel topping” on it. I immediately sprinkled a liberal portion onto my yogurt. Holy crap. It was amazing. It reminded me of delicious coffee cake…or some sort of jam bar, or…dessert pizza. That was it! The reason for loving the dessert pizza was that I love streusel! It all made sense.
I looked up what streusel actually is made of and it was kind of disappointing: butter, flour, and sugar. How can everyone not love streusel? Aren’t those the main ingredients in all junk food like, ever? Streusel not only tastes great, it has a marvelous crumbly texture that I really enjoy.
Just for the record, Godfather’s dessert pizza is EXCELLENT. The rest of the pizza was ok.
I think I will be baking something streusel-y this weekend.
I got to tag along with Maggie and Chloe tonight to their back-to-school open house.
Just walking through the doors of the school brought back so many happy memories. I really loved school as a kid. I always thought the beginning of a new school year was ripe with promise. It was a chance to reinvent myself through my mind-blowing first day of school outfit. There could be new cute boys that transferred from another school (actually happened once). There could be new and exciting items on the lunch menu. I could potentially become magically popular.
We visited Chloe’s first grade classroom, where she gets her very own desk for the very first time and Maggie’s fourth grade classroom where I learned this (which I am guessing applies equally to grad school):
This was a horoscope I had in my email last week. I really loved it. I copied it down to read again later. Just as I was about to trash the email, I got this weird feeling that I should post it because someone else would see it that really needed it.
“If you really knew how much you were loved, you would never cry again. A sublime relaxation would flood your nervous system, freeing you to see the beautiful secrets that your chronic fear has hidden from you. If you knew how much the world longs for your genius to bloom in its full glory, the peace that filled you would ensure you could not fail. You’d face every trial with eager equanimity. You would always know exactly what to do because your intuition would tell you in a myriad of subtle ways. And get this: A glimpse of this glory will soon be available to you.”
We are getting our new place in order. We are pre-fab apartment sellouts. I heart being a pre-fab apartment sellout. I love that when you clean something here, it looks clean. Not just slightly less dirty. We have a walk-in closet. We have a fridge with no duct tape holding it together. We have a guest room instead of a guest couch. I feel like we won the lottery.
I’d like you to come visit.
We will add our own flavor to this place to remove the pre-fab apartment soul-lessness; don’t you fret.
I start school in two weeks.
I start my class to learn how to teach in one week.
I become my nephew Lyrik’s godmother on Sunday.
Samaire Alice turns one on Saturday! And she’ll be in Kansas, which I am loving.
I hope Netflix delivers my Season 1 True Blood episodes today. I am missing Sookie and Bill.
Oh, and I’ve rediscovered my blog. It felt awesome to not blog for a few months. Now it feels awesome to be back.
