Why I Love You

So as you all know, I adore Pinterest and spend probably too much time on it. :)

I've recently been exploring the love and wedding sections... just for tickles and grins. I'm not engaged, or planning on getting engaged, but hey, a girl can dream. What girl HASN'T thought about what dress she wants, or what rings she likes? What girl hasn't contemplated themes or color schemes? And even women who are married can stand to benefit from tips on how to keep love strong. I've always believed love and relationships continually take work; you can't just neglect them and let feelings grow stale. No matter how much you love someone, there is always a chance things could get boring, or one might take something the other does for granted. Sometimes, we forget the little things.

Until I found one pin.

This pin took me to a blog (I wish I could link it... I forgot where it is and didn't think to book mark it, and I can't find the pin, either. :(.) and the blog suggested keeping a running list of Why I Love You's. Every time your significant other does something that prompts you to say "Sweetie, I love you," you're supposed to try to remember it and write it down. For me, this is most easily done via a document on my desk top. Other might find a diary is the best place, or a sticky note, or a memo on their smart phone to be the best method. Well, good for you.

Anyway, the point is to keep this list, and keep adding to it whenever you think to. Add everything from "I love you because you kiss me goodnight" to "I love you because when I slid the car on ice and almost hit the mailbox, you insisted on making sure I was okay, and then making sure the car was okay, and then parking it for me since I was so shaken up." (<-- actually happened. I was terrified.) This way, we remember all the little things and all the big things. And when we get upset at our bullheaded partners, we can just take a peak at the list and go "Oh yeah... he's not such a butt. He's really a sweetheart just acting like a butt." :)

This has all sorts of potential. It could be made into a DIY gift like this book of cards or maybe like this exploding love box. Both ideas are pretty sweet and would make for a helluva birthday, Christmas, or anniversary present, especially if you don't tell your partner you are keeping this list! A pack of cards can be picked up at Wal-Mart for like, $2, and card stock isn't usually too pricey, either. Hmm...

If you have any ideas on how to expand upon this Why I Love You list and how to make it into an adorable DIY gift, feel free to leave suggestions in the comments section.

Doggy Cuddles

I know I've mentioned previously about my dog, Daisy. And I've said how she's my princess and she's derpy and not 100% all there in the head, but still precious to me. But I don't think I've elaborated more than those few things.

See, I got to thinking about this a couple hours ago; I really love my dog and I would literally fall apart with out her. Someday she'll grow old and move on to the otherworld, but if she was taken from me before old age claimed her I seriously would mourn her more than most of my family. It sounds awful but hey, it's true. In fact, there are SOME people in my family who I consider downright cruel and evil and I will be glad when their time comes. But more on that some other time.

As I was laying on the couch, freezing my ass off (It's currently 5 degrees outside), my Daisy jumped up with me and pawed at the blanket until I'd let her underneath it. She then proceeded to do her usual bit: she'll turn around this way a bit, and then walk in circles that way, see where my feet are and decide if she should lay on them, under them, or next to them, and then she'll flump down and curl into the smallest ball she can make herself. As she was doing this, I felt a sudden urge of gratitude to have her in my life. She's such a wonderful companion. She isn't really bright, as I've stated multiple times, but her capacity for love blows me away. How many dogs will legitimately cuddle their masters? Sure, a dog will lay next to you, or near you. But Daisy takes it a step further and will endeavor to burrow under me. Or in the middle of the night, she will have her body pressed against mine (She kind of "spoons" me.) and she'll rest her head on my stomach or hip protectively. She gives kisses on command. When I'm home, she's at my side. I actually get emotional when she displays these examples of devotion to me. Because for all her lack of common sense and her lack of general awareness at her surroundings, she lavishes attention and affection on me. Knowing my dog is "simple", but still has the wherewithal to love on me when she doesn't have the ability to find something hiding under a blanket, is really kind of touching.

On that note, I want to share with you the story of her adoption. 

It was a Friday  night, in October 2011. Boyfriend's cat had passed away a week or two previously, and he was taking it hard. The cat had been his companion for a decade and it was unexpected. The cat was aging, yes, and we had recently moved. The shock and trauma of moving was something the cat couldn't get over. The stress was taking it's toll on her body and she wasn't adjusting. She became ill, and couldn't cope with the changes. (Interruption: Daisy just rolled over and put her head on my thigh. She then gave a light snore. Aww!) So, it was a tough decision, but after a few months in our new home and with no improvement, Boyfriend decided it'd be best of Twilight went to sleep. She wasn't adjusting, she was suffering and not healthy, and nothing we did seemed to reassure her. The vet later said she was experiencing some dementia. Putting Twilight to sleep was Boyfriend's hardest decision, and he cried for weeks later. Which brings us to this Friday. "Let's cut loose," I said. "Let's get totally wasted, and just not give a shit. We'll play drunken Guitar Hero until the wee morning hours and we'll pass out where ever we may fall." He agreed. 

Well, that's not exactly how it ended up. I ended up sloshed, he ended up tipsy. While in the bathroom washing my face and brushing my teeth before bed, I slipped. I fell. And when I fell, my legs when opposite directions, forming an odd type of split. And my jeans ripped. Aw, shit. That was my only pair, too! I stumbled to the bedroom, threw the stupid pants in the general direction of the closet, and said "We gotsta go to WalMart tomorrow. I need pantssss," before cuddling up to boyfriend for the night.

That morning, Saturday, I was hating life. F--- this. F--- that. F--- sunlight. I drank a strong cup of coffee and nibbled a granola bar. I didn't even want to get dressed; I "borrowed" a pair of Boyfriend's gym shorts and put on a tank top. Put on the bare minimum necessary make up, twisted my hair up in a sloppy ponytail, and readied myself to face the world. We got in Boyfriend's truck and drove to my mom's to socialize and help her with an errand, and then we were off to Wal-Mart. Kinda.

We drove back to our town (Mom lived a few towns over) and we headed in the direction of Wal-Mart. Across the street from Wal-Mart was a Petsmart. I see an "ADOPTIONS TODAY" sign and look at Boyfriend with big puppydog eyes and plead, "PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE CAN WE LOOOOK? I JUST WANNA LOOK I SWEAR." I think he was amused at my excitement more than anything else, because he agreed. We'd only be a few minutes, and we'd buy my pants right after. Then we'd go home, have dinner, and just have a quiet night in. I was pretty much vibrating with excitement, like a kid on a sugar high, as we entered the store. I found where the dogs were and made a beeline for the crates. Boyfriend gently tugged my ponytail and reminded me we're only looking, and maybe playing. He reminded me about the lease for our apt.: only 2 pets allowed. We violated that when we had Twilight and his other cat and Moto, but now we were just down to the one cat and Moto. Okay, okay, no adopting. Jeez, whatever. Let me go play! :)

So we play with the dogs, and they're all super adorable. There's a Chihuahua that's annoying as hell and she's wearing a Halloween dress. There were a few mutts, and a big lab mix. There was a Jack Russel Terrier. I didn't even see Daisy at first. 

I played with the Jack Russel, and inquired about how long he'd been at the shelter, etc. I asked about all the dogs and how long they'd been there. Then, I saw Daisy. Her crate had a sheet on it with what little info they had about her. She was 2 years old, almost 3. Her breed stated "Terrier Mix". Well, she sure didn't look like any terrier I'd ever seen. Anyway, I asked how long she'd been at the shelter. Thirty one days, was the answer. "Thirty one days?" I asked. "Do you have an exact calender or something? That's oddly specific." I started playing with her a bit while talking to the volunteers. The explained they knew it was 31 days she'd been there because she had been an owner surrender, and owner surrender dogs only are allowed 30 days in the shelter before being put to sleep. How did she get that extra day, then? The volunteers had to petition to make the shelter let Daisy attend the adoption event. Today was her last chance. If she didn't get adopted today, that was it. She had no behavioral problems, except she doesn't do well on a leash and she has a loud bark. 

I pulled Boyfriend aside. "Please. Please baby." I said. No way, was his response. Someone else will adopt her. Someone else will take her home. She's cute, she's lovable. She'll be fine.

"Baby," I pleaded, "It's 3 o'clock. The adoption is over at 5. She has two hours for someone to come by and decide to take her home. She's gonna die, baby. Look at her. She's not purebred. She's not even a recognizable mix of breeds. She's a mutt, and mutts die. Mutts don't get adopted."

He was quiet. We sat down there, in the aisle. Yes, on the floor. He looked at Daisy, and he looked at me. Volunteers came by to pat my shoulder, or try to pressure boyfriend. "Come on, man. Do it for your lady!" said one black guy just passing by. "Call it an early Christmas present!" said one of the middle aged ladies tending to the dogs. 

Boyfriend suddenly stood and fished in his pockets for his keys. "The hell are you doing?" I cried. "Going home," he said. "Going home, so we can get Moto, bring him here, and see how they socialize."

I cheered. Out loud. I really did. I think a few volunteers did too. 

We drove home and I ran up the 2 flights of stairs to our apartment. "Come on Moto! Let's go for a walk!" I leashed the hyperactive little guy and we raced downstairs to the truck. Time was ticking! It was already almost four. We drove back to Petsmart, Moto on my lap. I urged him to go faster, faster, faster! No, not faster, that's a cop. Okay... faster! 

We arrived back at Petsmart about ten after four and I walked Moto inside. A volunteer leashed Daisy walked her outside, so she and Moto could be introduced without all the other dogs around. The volunteer told us a family had looked at Daisy while we were gone, but the eldest daughter didn't want Daisy because in her opinion, she just wasn't that cute. Are you kidding me? Look at that face! She's got such a youthful, puppy-esque face. I was already head over heels in love with Daisy. 

Moto was really anxious at first, and kept tangling his leash around Boyfriend's legs in an attempt to hide behind him. I would pet Daisy, and let him smell my hand. It took him a few minutes, but he warmed up to her enough to not try to hide behind Boyfriend anymore. They sniffed each other, and then Moto regarded her with indifference. He must have decided she wasn't a threat. Daisy was incredibly curious about Moto. The volunteer told us Daisy had been surrendered along with a Yorkshire and maybe she was trying to make the connection between Moto and her previous playmate. Daisy's previous owner had stated the two got along really well; Daisy was very careful and gentle with little dogs. Great! I looked at Boyfriend, and he smiled. He looked at me, and he looked at the volunteer, and said to us, "Don't y'all need to go fill out some paperwork?" I hugged him so hard. I started crying. I didn't know how this was going to work with our lease, but we'd find a way. We'd make it work. 

I went inside and filled out the forms. I got copies of Daisy's records and I chose her new leash and collar. We got her a small bag of food, and some water and food bowls. We got her a crate, so we could lock her up while we weren't home until we learned her habits. Would she scratch at doors? Would she mess on the carpet if left alone for a few hours or could she hold it until we got home? 

One hundred and fifty dollars later (adoption fee + supplies), I had my Daisy. We put her in the back of the cab, behind the seats in the small cargo space. Moto sat on my lap again. We quickly learned Daisy loves car rides. She put her paws on the center console and laid her head down, so she was standing on her back paws and laying on her front. She inched forward, ever so slightly, bit by bit, until she somehow suddenly ended up in my lap along with Moto. (Interruption: She just stood up, turned around, and tried to stick her head between my back and the sofa. She decided having just her nose there is good enough.)

We got home, and I kept Moto on the leash while I let Daisy roam and sniff around and explore our apartment. As she acquainted herself with her new home, I spoke with Boyfriend. "She's not a replacement for Twilight," I said. "She's just a new member of our little family. You know that right? She's not hear to take Twilight's place. Daisy is just a few furry face to love." Boyfriend smiled. "I know," he said. "I'm okay. If I wasn't, we would have left much sooner." Good. :) That left me with one more important thing to do.

Call my mom and tell her. "Mom, hey." "Oh, hey Princess, how was shopping?" "Well, I didn't get pants. Can't afford them for a week or two now." "WHAT? Why! What happened?" "Well mama, I spent $150 just now." "On WHAT?" "A dog." -silence-. "Mom?" "Another dog? I have another grandpuppy, in addition to Moto?" "Yes mama. Her  name is Daisy. We've no idea what breed she is. She's a mutt. I'll text you a picture." "Are you happy?" "Yes mama." "Then give my new grandpuppy a treat for me!"

I did send my mom a picture, and I could tell she was kind of trying to be supportive. "Oh, I guess she's... cute...." kind of reaction. See, Daisy just isn't photogenic. When Mom met Daisy for the first time, she was taken aback. Mom got to see Daisy is gorgeous, and pictures just don't do justice. 

I call Daisy my princess, my babygirl, my angel. But Mom corrected me. Mom thinks Daisy is not my angel, but rather, I am hers, since I adopted her just in time. Daisy was living on borrowed time and was down to the wire when I adopted her. She came so close to being put down. Mom believes I was meant to rip my pants, to drive to Wal-Mart, to go across the street instead and adopt Daisy. Mom believes it wasn't a coincidence. Just one of those things that was meant to be. And I agree.

I wonder if Daisy knows. I wonder if she has any idea what fate awaited her, back at the shelter. I wonder if she does, and that's why her affection to both Boyfriend and myself is limitless. Or maybe she just loves us, just because she does.

Either way, I love her dearly. She is a light in my life. And she is sweet as she is "simple". 

She's so easygoing. She let me wrap her up like a taquito and
didn't even care. She probably enjoyed the warmth!

Why, You Little Monkey...

So since I'm working the night shift, I'm on a nocturnal schedule. I go to bed between 9AM and 10AM and wake up around between 4PM and 6PM. Even when I don't work, I don't want to mess up my sleeping pattern, so I keep these hours all the time.

When I'm off work, though... There is nothing to do.

See, all the TV networks stop showing programs between 3 and 5AM and switch to that paid programming crap. There's only so many movies I can stand to watch. I prefer to save my reading for my downtime at work. Video games are an option, but it's more fun when people are online and most folks sleep at those hours. So, between about 4AM and 7AM, there's three hours of NOTHING to do.

So the other day, I baked some monkey bread to eat up some time (har har).

If you've never heard of monkey bread... BOY are you missing out!

I learned how to make this in 7th grade Home Ec. It's very simple and GREAT for the kids to help with. It can be a great "breakfast" to make on Thanksgiving or Christmas. The hardest part is cutting up the biscuits into quarters, and the worst part is waiting for it to bake. :) Here's the link to the official recipe. Oh, and if you don't have a fluted pan don't worry. This can easily be made in cupcake tins, meatloaf pan, etc. You could probably even use a casserole dish! It's LOADED with sugar, which is why I put breakfast in quotes. It's not a nutritious, well-balanced breakfast, but some days out of the year I just don't care. Holidays and sick days tend to be some of those days. :)

Also, speaking of me being nocturnal and being up all hours... This is the first time in many years I'll actually get to see the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. It starts at 9AM Eastern, and 8AM Central. I'll have just enough time to get home from work, change clothes, make some breakfast and look at balloons floating through NYC!

I probably won't post on Thanksgiving Day, so....

May the gods and the universe bless you and your family many fortunes and abundant happiness. :)

I Just Need to Vent

So today while I was sitting at home bored, trolling Facebook like usual, my friend posted a very disturbing status.

I've known this girl since we were freshmen in high school, and like me, she's battled depression on and off for years. She has a history of self harm, and she's been to therapy more than once.

So when she posted something to the effect of, "I got tattoos on my wrists so I wouldn't cut. I am so tempted right now. I just want it all to end." I FLIPPED OUT.

Now, being in Fargo, there's not a whole lot I can do for this girl who's in Texas. I can talk to her, I can offer her support and love from afar... which I did. All my positive-ity and "Just take a nap, sleep this off. I love you. Don't listen to the haters. You are beautiful, you are kind, you are a stronger woman than this. These demons were defeated long ago," peptalks went in one ear and out the other. I'm not even sure she read what I wrote.

So what else could I do? Talking was getting us no where. I remembered earlier today I saw her dad posting comments on one of her pictures... I could message her dad! And her dad will walk down the hallway, to her room, and make SURE she's okay and get her the help she needs. Now.

So that's what I did.

I sent him a message on Facebook, told him about her post, and he responded immediately he would attend to his daughter. He thanked me for telling him, and I knew I made the right choice. My friend would get help. She would be okay. She would realize her dreams of becoming a singer someday. I was still scared... but I was consoled by the fact this would all turn out okay. It had to.

Fifteen minutes later, my friend posts, "Whoever the fuck told my parents what the fuck I do on Facebook needs to mind their own fucking business. I will find out who did this, and I will fucking block you. Friends don't do that fucking low shit."

Fine. So I told her in a private message it was me. And she did block me.

When a person posts on social media a threat like that, it's not a joke. It's not funny. The one time you think it IS a joke, will be the one time it's not.

So, I'm the worlds shittiest friend. Oh well, at least she's alive.
Given the chance to redo the whole situation... I wouldn't have done a damn thing differently.
My conscience is clear.

Thanksgiving is HOW Many Days Away?

So I just realized Thanksgiving is next week.

Holy crap.

Didn't I just finish posting about Halloween? Jeez....

Well this year for Thanksgiving I'm not going to be doing a whole helluva lot. In perfect honestly I was planning on working, but I actually ended up getting off. I didn't even request off; it just happened that way. And since it's only me and boyfriend here, and I wouldn't be surprised if his sister had dinner with her boyfriends family... I might just say "screw it" and buy a damn pizza.

Maybe I'll search Google and see if I can find any Thanksgiving ideas for two people. I might make a turkey breast, but boyfriend doesn't eat any of the 'traditional' sides. He doesn't do fruit salad, green bean casserole  I don't think he likes stuffing... He doesn't like potatoes (but neither do I). He does like sweet potatoes and yams, but I don't. We both like cranberry sauce. We like glazed carrots.

So in theory I could make a turkey breast, glazed carrots, and cranberry sauce. Not what I had in mind. See... I kinda want to be cooking all. day. long. :)

So I thought maybe I'd make a pie from scratch! But... I've never made a pie before and Thanksgiving would be a really horrible day to screw it up. On that note, we'd be sure to remember that day forever.

In other news, there's still snow on the ground from Saturday. What's up with that?

Winter Storm Brutus

This year, The Weather Channel has decided to grant names to winter storms, similar to naming Hurricanes and tropical storms.

Most people I've spoken to about this have said quite loudly and clearly and unmistakably that this is a  STUPID idea. Several reasons have been put forth, include it will contribute to hysteria, TWC is over-reacting, if they have time to come up with names then they clearly aren't doing their jobs or need more to do, it's a marketing ploy, they'll start naming rain showers next, the list goes on and on.

With this situation, though, I'm on TWC's side. I think naming winter storms is beneficial and I'm not sure why we haven't done it before to be honest. TWC's website has a few articles including the names for this year, and why this is a good idea. TWC also outlines the guidelines a storm must fufill to be named. They take into accounts things such as winds, amount of precipitation, chance of blizzard conditions, etc. Here is a link to their main article explaining the decision, but for your convenience I'll paste their main bulleted reasons here.

Naming a storm raises awareness.

Attaching a name makes it much easier to follow a weather system’s progress.

A storm with a name takes on a personality all its own, which adds to awareness.

In today’s social media world, a name makes it much easier to reference in communication.

A named storm is easier to remember and refer to in the future.

All of these points are perfectly sound. Let's take them one by one.

"Naming a storm raises awareness". Oh hell yes it does! When I heard Brutus was starting in Nevada and working his way towards the midwest, I have been checking TWC's website a few times a day. I wanted to monitor the progress of this storm, watch it strengthen or weaken, and learn if Fargo was going to be in the path. It looks like Fargo is going to be catching just a corner of the system, but still, I am prepared. We have food in the house, gas in the cars, etc.

"Attaching a name makes it much easier to follow a weather system's progress." Again, oh hell yes it does! At any given time, how many weather systems are flowing across the continental US? And how many are coming in from Canada to sweep across the midwest? Instead of looking at a map and going "This system here is doing blah blah", forecasters can say "Athena just beat the shit out of New England 10 days after Sandy". And doesn't that flow better, and frankly sound more impressive than, "10 days after Sandy, New England is experiencing a snow storm." There is a HUGE difference in these two statements. The name adds importance and seriousness. A snow storm... meh. I personally think maybe 6 inches of snow, some ice. Maybe schools are closed for a day or two. Athena... Makes me think of 12+ inches, schools closed for a few to several days, and travel seriously impaired or impossible.

"A storm with a name takes on a personality all its own, which adds to awareness." I don't really feel like I need to elaborate further. A named storm generates attention. Nationwide, people knew about Sandy. Now, nationwide, people know about Brutus. If cities were to lose power and need assistance, organizing that would be made just that more simple.

"In today’s social media world, a name makes it much easier to reference in communication." Damn right. Social media such as Facebook and Skype (the only two I really use, unless Pinterest counts!) has become a primary form of communication between me and my friends and family in Texas. I can update my status, or post on my mom's wall and say, "Keep an eye on Brutus for me." If, gods forbid, we lose power, I can call Mom and say, "Track Brutus for me." And she would be able to use the internet and check on the weather, and road conditions, and when we could expect to have power back.

"A named storm is easier to remember and refer to in the future." Again, also very true. To this DAY, I mention the snow storm Dallas had in 2010 that shut the city down for a full week. Being nameless, we speak about it in thus manner: "Remember that storm in 2010?" "December?" "No no, the one at the beginning of 2010. February." "Oh, when the city was shut down for 7 days?" "Yeah! And we had to bring in trucks to help salt and sand the roads from neighboring cities!" "Yeah, I remember!" All that could be eliminated with, "Hey, remember when snow storm Bob came through Dallas?" "Yeah, damn that was a sucky storm." Everyone automatically knows what storm you're talking about. This could also be used for comparisons, as in, "Hey, snow storm Bob was NOTHIN' compared to snow storm Susie."

Now, the folks that are against naming the storms have their reasons, and I agree with some of them, too. Like it could cause hysteria. People panicking left and right, buying up all the bottled water at the grocery store and stocking up for 2 weeks and preparing to be snowed in... Well. Good. At least they're prepared. And if people are prepared, lives could be saved. 

Just look at Hurricane Sandy. How many dumbasses didn't believe all the hype, didn't evacuate, or tried to drive in the flood waters? Too many. How many lives could have been saved if people just listened to the news, packed up their car and went west, further inland? How many lives could have been saved if people didn't try to drive through the flood waters? And then let's think of the police officers and fire fighters who also had to go out in those conditions to save those stupid dumbasses. That's just selfish, really, for someone to try to brave the conditions, and end up needing assistance and dragging some poor cop or fire fighter into that mess. Just stupid.


Anyway, Winter Storm Brutus is supposed to hit Fargo tonight and tomorrow. We're supposed to get mostly rain, but tonight they're calling for snow. Tomorrow's high temperature is 25F... I'm thinking we'll see some ice. Yikes. Scary. Tomorrow I have to go to work... I'm not looking forward to it. I'd rather stay inside where I know it's dry, and warm, and ice-free.

Defrosting

So as much as I want to post about the election... I'll worry about that later. Right now let's talk Fargo VS Dallas!

In Dallas, we start are vehicles up early to let them get nice and warm during the winter. As Texans, we like our nice and warm. Here in Fargo, it's more or less mandatory to start your car up early or it won't drive right. Engines don't run the best when they're cold. And it seems transmissions don't like to shift as quick as usual, either.

Anyway, so I started working  the night shift at my hotel recently and that's been pretty cool. After the audit is complete, we get to pretty much relax and check guests out as necessary. At 7AM, when we're off, the sun is usually just coming up. I got to see the most GORGEOUS sunrise this morning! And as a night owl, sunrises are something I don't often see. I've seen maybe ten sunrises my entire life.

I LOVE this. With the gold and the pink and the blue...
No pollution to skew the colors here. In Dallas,
the smog was always visible. Easy.

And since I'm leaving work at 7AM... Um... it's freakin' cold outside. And everything is covered in dew. No, not dew. Frost.

And, being from Texas and not used to having my winter start before December or January, I don't have an ice scraper in my car. I have one in the garage, sure! Load of good that does me...

So I got to sit. In my car. In the cold. Defroster cranked on high. Letting the frost melt slowly off my windshield and back window. Unfortunately my side windows didn't want to defrost (maybe because I was blowing hot hair on them?) Anyway, I was tired, and cranky, and cold, so I said screw it, I'm driving home with the damn windows down. And I did. On the highway. At 65mph. (10mph over the limit. In Texas.... speedlimits are typically viewed as suggestions! We just keep with the flow of traffic and watch for cops.)

I need to go find that ice scraper and snow brush and keep it in my car, where it's actually helpful! This also makes me think now would be a good time to put together a winter survival kit for my car. Some kitty litter (gives traction when stuck), a blanket, couple water bottles, dry food like Pop Tarts, and some de-icer. I hear de-icer can be made in a spray bottle with 1 part vinegar and 2 parts water. It supposedly won't freeze, and will thaw out the ice. Neat! While keeping a bottle of this in the car would be awesome, I think it would be slightly more useful if it was kept in an old perfume bottle, and inside my purse. What if my door handles are frozen? Load of good de-icer does me if it's INSIDE the frozen car! 

Frost on my windshield. I love that my
dash says "Zoom Zoom" when I get in. :)

If you have any tips, hints, tricks, or secrets about surviving winter, please share. Anything you can tell me about anything winter related is most appreciated! How often should I shovel snow off my driveway? Every few hours or when it stops snowing? Tips for driving on ice/snow besides the obvious "Slow down and be careful"? Quick and filling dinners I can make after work while I'm trying to thaw out my fingers?

Thanks!

Random Acts of Kindness: Hey, Need a Jump?

So, I will freely admit I know way less about cars than I should. However, I'm a spoiled girl. My Mazda came with 24/7 roadside assistance and my boyfriend is pretty handy. He might not be willing to do an oil change himself, but he'll make sure I don't get screwed when the time comes. It's well known if a female goes into a mechanic shop for auto work, she's gonna get ripped off one way or the other. And my sweetie don't play that game.

In fact, I know so little about my car, I didn't even know how to pop the hood until yesterday. Is it this button? That lever? No, oops, that was my trunk. How sad is that? I'm a little ashamed and embarrassed. This is something I ought to know! I also ought to know where my battery is, but I didn't until yesterday, either.

See, I was working the front desk at the hotel where I'm employed and an Indian-looking fellow comes up and asks if we have a company van. Uh, sure we do. Why do you need it...? And then he explains when he arrived the night before it was raining and he was really tired, and left his headlights on. His battery was dead! So all he needed was a vehicle to hook up to just to jump himself. He had the cables, he knew how to do it, he just needed another vehicle. So, I grabbed my car keys, got the OK from my manager, and said I'd see him outside in five, and described my vehicle for him. Black, small, Mazda 3, four door.

That's when I learned how to pop my hood, and where my battery is. Interestingly, it's under a plastic cover on the drivers side. We made small talk about Fargo winters and what I can expect while we let the vehicles run. My Mazda had his pick up running much faster than he expected. "For a tiny package, the 3 sure packs a punch! She's got some power! Reminds me of my old Protege..." he remarked.

When his car had some life back to it, he undid the cables and I looked in his vehicle for the first time. (after all, the hood of his car was up and blocking the windshield!) In the back seat I could see a little girl, maybe 7 years of age. A teenager, too young to drive, was in the front. She was maybe 13 or 14. And then it kinda hit me... If I had told this random hotel guest "No sir, I can't leave the front desk. Let me see if someone else can help you." his girls would have sat outside, in a cold car, for that much longer.

I'm glad I stood outside, in the rain, and the 35 degree weather, to help this father charge his battery, so he and his daughters could get to wherever they needed. Sure, I had to stand in front of the space heater and nurse the feeling back into my hands afterward, but hey, it was worth it. Where ever they are, I hope they got there safe.

The Perfect Red-- Maybe It Exists in a Galaxy Far, Far Away

As a woman, I like being pretty.

How's that for the most redundant sentence ever? In all seriousness though, what woman DOESN'T want to feel pretty? Make up, hair, clothes, fitness, health, all sorts of things go into making our appearance something we find pleasing.

Except the fitness part. Who the hell has time for that?



<---- That's right! Ain't NOBODY got time for that.




So moving on to what will inevitably become a rant: make up.


There are so many brands and whatnot that go with this scary realm. Drug store, designer, department store... And then you get to choose if you want mascara that elongates or thickens, or if you want a liquid or stick eyeliner, and if your lipstick needs a shimmer or matte finish. Again I say... ain't nobody got time for that. It's taken me years to discover my preferences and all I wear is foundation and powder on my face, eyeliner, mascara, and sometimes eyeshadow (albeit rarely) on my eyes, and lip gloss or lipstick on my lips. I don't bother with lip liner; I don't feel like I need to with my lips. And that's all I wear! No concealer, no primer, no blush, no bronzer, none o' that. I find it unnecessary and in some cases, unflattering. I try to keep it simple. Listing all the make up I wear here makes it seem excessive, but on the average day I use 3 tubes and 2 compacts... that's it.

But let's take this... frankly scary... world of make up and narrow it down... WAY down. To lip stick. Particularly, red lip stick.

For years, red lip stick has been a symbol of femininity, promiscuity, sophistication, and status. It's always popular, it's always in style, it's always fashionable, and it's a gorgeous, classic look. Just look at Taylor Swift, or any other celebrity on the red (there's that word again...) carpet. TSwift is the most recently popular woman I can think of to really display beautifully this iconic color, but there are others. So, how many times have you said "Dammit, I wish I could wear red lipstick," and some lady at the make up counter says "Oh, but EVERY woman can wear red! You just need to find your right shade, honey,"? About nine million and four times, am I right? And how many times have you found the perfect shade? Haha, I'm willing to bet ZERO.

So trying on every sample shade of red at the Nordstrom make up counter won't do, because after about 3 shades your lips will stain and you won't be able to accurately judge the color. Purchasing every shade of red lip stick at Walgreens from Maybelline isn't a wallet-friendly solution, either. Except I personally wouldn't buy Maybelline... I'm a Covergirl type of girl. Anyway, the internet has quizzes, essays, and guides on choosing the "perfect" shade of make up based on your skin tones, but by the time you get to the store you forget what the website said, get flustered, and buy your go-to every day color that you KNOW looks good. (Covergirl's Outlast lipstick in Pink Pearl or Coral Silk. Just saying. :))

Well, that's some bullshit right there. We want RED, ladies, not the same ol' same ol' go-to quick fix. I want me some vixen red lips!

I got this color by blending about 3 or
4 different products. Totally unrealistic
and way too time consuming!

In my determination to discover the "correct" shade of red, I decided to hit Google and see what I could dig up. Here goes. I learned I have pale to light skin, cool tones look best on me, and soft sheens look best (no matte, no high glossy look, and no glittery). Supposedly. So now I ask... how the BLAZES do I get a "red" lip stick if "cool" tones look best on me? Red is warm! Cool is... NOT RED. UGH!!

Back to square one: Google.

Search results stated such a think as "blue red" exists and is a red that will flatter women with cool skin tones. Okay, cool story. Umm... isn't blue red something we call purple? Didn't we learn that in Pre-K art class?

Further searching showed me that this mysterious misnomer of blue red IS actually more like a purple that is mostly red. Which makes absolutely zero sense at all.

But hey, whatevs. I can sacrifice $6 to buy a tube of lip stick in this bizarre blue red purple red WHATEVER color, and see if it actually works. Next time I'm at the grocery, or Wal-Mart... maybe I just will do that. I'll let you know how it goes.

It's Snowing Again... Ugh. So Here, Have a Recipe

It's snowing... AGAIN. Ugh. So sick of the white stuff already. I'm kind of hoping I get used to this crap, but I'm thinking I really won't.

So as I'm trying to occupy myself from the dreaded wasteland of winter raging outside, I decided to kill time in my new favorite way.... PINTEREST!!! :)

And since our apple tree is most definitely dormant now, and all the apples are picked off it and just sitting on my counter... I couldn't help but search for a recipe so I could do SOMETHING with these apples. Oh hey, how about applesauce? Yummy!

So here's what I did:

We used the last of the apples off our tree, and they're about medium size. So, for this recipe, I'd recommend 6 medium apples, or 4 large. Our tree gives honey crisp apples; other websites can help you determine what apples make the best sauce. Usually they say go for a firm apple, that is sweet. Softer apples will work, but will require less water and have the potential to make a more runny sauce, instead of a nice thick one.

Peel and core the apples, then chop into small pieces. About 1/2 square inch or smaller. This part is the hardest. No, seriously!

Place all your nicely chopped apples into a large pot. Preferably a pot that has a matching lid. Add about a cup of water, half cup of sugar (I used brown sugar), a tablespoon of cinnamon, and a tablespoon of honey. Mix well. If you don't want the sauce very sweet, feel free to omit the honey and use a bit less sugar. This is totally at your discretion.

Then, set on medium heat and cover. Set a timer for 15 minutes, but check it often. After the fifteen minutes, give it a good stir. Try to mash a bit of apple with your spoon at the side of the pot. If it mushes easily, you're done! If it doesn't, set your timer for another 15 minutes and check often. By then, it should be good and ready.

Now, if you want a smooth applesauce, I'd recommend using a food processor or a blender or even a beater if you have one, something to really get a nice consistency. But if you like chunky applesauce, a potato masher or fork will do just fine for this part. GET MASHING!!! :)

Go ahead and transfer this tasty mixture into a Tupperware bowl, give it a lid, and put it in your fridge. Now, let it get nice and cold (about 3 hours or so) before digging in. I'd wager a guess that this yields about 8 servings or so. But I'm rubbish at figuring out servings. Or, you could just say to hell with servings, and devour the whole bowl in one go. Who am I to judge?

Enjoy! Let me know if you add/change anything about this recipe, and how it turns out. Next time I might add some strawberries! Hmm....

For your viewing pleasure:

Halloween!

I hope everyone had a fun and safe Halloween, Samhain, All Hallow's Eve, whatever you want to call it. :)

I worked, and I saw exactly one person check into the hotel in the 6 hours I worked. Needless to say... it was a little slow! My manager and I passed the time by watching Hocus Pocus on ABC Family. We were going to watch The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, as well, but we missed it. Dang. :/

On the bright side, though, I got to dress up and come to work in costume and that was pretty awesome. All month, everyone has requested off for Halloween except for me, because I desperately needed the hours. All October, the managers and owners have said "No, NO costumes. NO Halloween make up with your uniform. NO exceptions!" and on Monday, they relented. OK, OK, just keep it modest.

Awesome!

So, with such short noticed, I just wore what I wore last year; I was a gypsy! I had a black peasant skirt, and black tank top and black flats. I wore a red lace bolero tie cropped jacket thingy, and a red sarong with silver coins sewn on it. I had a red headband with silver coins sewn on it and I wore my hair down and curly. Heavy black eye makeup (eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara) and red lipstick, along with an eyeliner-drawn "mole" on my cheek completed the look. Chunky red rings, bracelets, and necklaces added to the ensemble.





I was the only one in costume at work, but that's okay. I had FUN.







Today, though... Ugh...

Winter has realized November is here, I think. Today, we had no high temperature. The temperature has only steadily declined all day. At 12:05AM, it was 39F, and it only got colder. We're currently sitting at about 32F. Although I LOVE Samhain/Halloween, I'm almost anxious for Christmas. I haven't been anxious for Christmas in years!

Last year, in Texas, we didn't have a winter. I think it got to 30F a few nights in January. I didn't wear anything heavier than a hoodie and gloves. And now, it's November and as cold as it was in January in Texas. And it's only going to proceed to get colder. So last year, it never really got cold so it never really felt like Christmas. But now because it's so cold, I'm ready for Father Christmas to come!

On that note, I think I'm going to go make some hot cocoa (from a package!) and maybe some applesauce. I found this neat slow cooker recipe for applesauce on Pinterest, and it looks easy enough.

I'll let you know how it goes, shall I? :)

UPDATE: The applesauce was DELICIOUS. Recipe can be found here! :) I didn't make it in a slow cooker, but a pot on the stove. Sooo tasty!