Reveling in Adulthood.

As I type this, it's just after 10pm and I am sitting on my yoga mat in my pajamas after doing Pilates. Before Pilates, I turned the heat up from 65 to 69 after I took a shower. Speaking of the shower, my hair is crazy frizzy, damp, and unruly.

And all of this was after Mike and I went grocery shopping at Whole Foods and threw whatever the heck we wanted into the cart. On the way to the post office, I helped myself to some baguette and sharp cheddar cheese. I just ripped off a hunk of delicious, crusty bread and nibbled some cheese straight from the package.

Mike gave me eyes of judgment that said "That's disgusting, Ashley."

I gave him eyes of correction that said, "No, Mike, this is why being a grown up RULES."

Actually, I said, "If you can't do this when you're a grown up, when can you do it?"

(His parents obviously instilled more manners in him than mine in me. I call the lack of manners a Good Time.)

Sometimes, my 10-year-old self realizes just how awesome it is to be a grown up.

Why?

No bed time. No one to tell you what you should or shouldn't be doing. No one to tell you that going outside with wet hair will make you sick. No one to tell you you can't have that box of Reese's Puffs you're craving like mad. (Hey. Don't act like you're immune to the craving.) No one to say that fudge and bread probably don't make the best dinner.

I remember when I was a kid and couldn't wait for all of this. Sometimes, I complain so much about all the busy-ness of life, bills, and other responsibilities that I forget just how lucky I am.

Now, please excuse me while I go pour myself some more wine into my coffee mug.

Video Blogging: Pre-Hanukkah and Teeny Bopper Shirts.

Untitled from Ashley Marie on Vimeo.

Thanksgiving + Black Friday in Five Photos.

I am thankful for...

A husband who plays music. (Especially when he learned Falling Slowly for me.)

A husband who can cook.


Peanut butter. Chocolate. Especially together and in fudge form.


This post-Thanksgiving breakfast.


A sane Black Friday wherein we got this for $8.99.


Enjoy time your family, friends!

Corny, but Still True!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

A Tour of My Happy Place.

Welcome to my craft room/office/closet! I always enjoy getting a little glimpse into the homes and lives of others, so I thought I'd treat you to a little voyeurism. Here is my half of the room:

It very rarely looks like this. The floor is usually covered in fabric, stickers, pins, and tissue paper.


Storage and sewing books!


I like to surround myself with things that make me happy...like this...


And this...


And this...


And this...


My latest fabric favorites and a teensy bit of my fabric addiction.


I'm sort of in love with happy tape to give a package a finishing touch. (A package with this tape is far more exciting than an Amazon package, right?)


My front porch is my morning photo shoot spot. It's fun when my neighbors look at me.

Thanks for visiting! I hope you enjoyed your little tour of where all of this is born.

PS: If you look at these photos in my Flickr stream, I have included notes. Fun!

I Don't Do "Balance" Well.

I began blogging as a way to keep in touch with my friends while in Hawaii for a semester.

I continued blogging because I was enthralled by the idea of this world where people wrote as a way of communication. Writers spent time expressing their thoughts and readers took time to read and respond.

This blogging thing seemed to encourage us to take the time to listen to each other. Sometimes we giggle together, sometimes we learn together, and sometimes we disagree. But, we’re always talking.

And I love that about blogging.

I love that blogging has led me to some of the sweetest, kindest, and most wonderful people I’ve ever known. When I cry, you send me emails to see how I am. You make me laugh with your silly stories. You make me want to be a better person. You encourage me to be who I want to be. You even support my little Etsy shop and freelance design work. You are amazing.
The price of getting cozy and comfortable in this wonderful little corner of my life, though, is that I have neglected other people and other pieces of my life that I love dearly.

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.

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It makes catching up with an old friend quite one-sided when they’re updated on all the details of your life from your blog. You start out on a story while at coffee with a friend, and wonder, “Am I repeating something I wrote?” Your friend confesses to loving your blog, but feels “like a total stalker” for reading it. You don’t send birthday cards, you tweet birthday wishes instead. You get lazy about keeping in touch. Your husband begins to feel neglected.

You love blogging and you love your “real life” friends and family.

You seek to find a balance.

..................

Psst: In honor of being more "balanced," I'd like to solicit a few guest bloggers for this weekend. I'll be heading down to Georgia for a work trip. Leave a comment below or email me if you're interested. Thanks!

Sunday Domesticity | Foolproof Granola.

I haven't had much time to cook lately, so I made sure to spent lots of time in the kitchen this weekend. I made cupcakes with peanut butter frosting, pumpkin pancakes, scrambled tofu, and an amazing pizza.

And....granola.

Oh, granola.

(Cooking with bad lighting can't be helped. Alas.)

This stuff is amazing. So amazing it usually only lasts about 48 hours in our house. And warranted a 20-minute Google session to find it again. It's ridiculously easy, too, so anyone with an oven can make it.

I promise.

(Uses less packaging and is cheaper than store-bought, too!)

The Kitchen Sink Granola

3 1/2 cups rolled oats
1/2 cup coconut flakes, unsweeteend
3 tablespoons flax seeds
3 tablespoons sesame seeds
1/4 cup sunflower or pumpkin seeds
1/2 cup toasted mixed nuts, chopped (I used almonds)
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup canola oil
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon pure maple syrup
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
2 cups mixed dried fruit (I leave this out or add some raisins)

Preheat the oven to 375. Line a rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil (I didn't line it - no mess and saved some foil. Win!) In a large bowl, combine all the ingredients except the dried fruit. Stir well to incorporate.

Spread the mixture on the prepared baking sheet, spreading it out into an even layer. Bake for 20 to 30 minutes (depending on the depth of goldenness you’re looking for), stirring every 10 minutes.

Remove the granola from the oven and and cool completely, in its pan, on a wire wrack. Once the granola is cool, mix in the dried fruit.

Enjoy with milk, yogurt, or by the handful.

Oh, you don't even know how delicious you will become...

Recipe source.

This is What November Looks Like...

Browns.
Reds.
Blues.
Trips to the park.
Crunchy leaves.
Blue jeans.
Cozy shoes.
Sunshine.
Naked trees.
Pumpkin pancakes.
November is full of happy things.

Oh, Religion.

I grew up in a religious (Catholic) family - we went to church every Sunday, participated in all of the sacraments, and were very involved in our faith and church. When I was in high school, I became quite religious myself - leading retreats for other high schoolers, reading my Bible, praying, and being a leader in our church youth group. I was always pegged as a "good little Christian girl" by my classmates. (Which was quite annoying as a 17-year-old, but in retrospect, was probably a good thing. Because they typecast me, I stayed out of trouble. No one was going to ask the Good Little Christian Girl to do Naughty Things.)

As a freshman in college, a coworker and I got into a conversation about religion, and he remarked, "Most wars are started by religion; religion does more harm than good."

My 18-year-old self was scandalized. Religion? Bad? He's obviously a heathen.

This conversation was followed by four transformative years of college (see: recap here). I've come a long way since my simplistic understanding of the ways that religion contributes both positively and negatively to our world. As I’ve become more balanced in my own personal faith journey, I’ve been able to see that there are, in fact, many negative effects of religion. Individuals (including the 18-year-old me) can become judgmental and divisive in the name of religion. Instead of being a tool to create a more loving, caring world - we can use religion to justify violence and hate.

In my opinion, the purpose of religion should be to inspire individuals to create a better world through bettering themselves; to become kinder, gentler, more open, and more generous individuals. Religion and spirituality should call us outward towards others, not just inward.

I think religion makes the world a better place when this happens. And it so often does.

Religiously-affiliated colleges and high schools more often educate about social justice and include service in their curriculum. Religious charities feed the hungry, care for the sick and orphaned, and advocate for the poor. I’ve met some of the most amazing religious sisters (nuns) dedicate their lives to working for peace and justice. They inspire me and make me proud to consider myself a part of their religion.

Plus, Jesus was all about loving your neighbor, not getting hung up on specific rules, and nonviolence. He was a pretty radical guy.

That’s not to say that the teachings of religions aren’t ever hurtful or harmful. I’ve personally struggled with this; it can be so heartbreaking. I’ve seen discrimination in this country that has angered and frustrated me. Someday, I’ll write a post about living in a country of Muslims during 9/11 and coming back to my own country, surprised and saddened to find resentment and unfounded beliefs about Islam running rampant.

I am, In fact, an unlikely defendant of religion. Even as I write this, I'm torn to be defending something that has hurt so many. But I'm writing about it, because I think when it's done well, religion can contribute to a better world.

But today, I want to talk about how you think religion has both helped or harmed our cities, our countries, and our world.

Me? I don’t think you need religion or faith to be a good person, but I think that religion has the potential to make the world a better place.

A Open Note to My Husband.

Dear Michael,

Most of the time, I'm convinced you are the perfect husband. You make me laugh, you write me songs, you cook dinner, and you're quite the cutie.

Other times, I lose my patience with you, I take you for granted, and I snap at you when I'm late for work. (Let's be honest, I know it's not your fault. But not snapping is hard.)

All of the time, you have fabulous taste in television, coffee, and food. Let's go watch some Ugly Betty, How I Met Your Mother, and Gilmore Girls.

Love,
Ashley

PS: Sorry about the losing-my-patience bit. And the addicted-to-the-computer bit.

I'm Scared of Non-Dairy Creamer.

I saw lots of tweets about how delicious Coffee-Mate and International Delight coffee creamers are. With flavors like Pumpkin Spice, Peppermint Mocha, White Chocolate Mocha, Caramel Macchiato, and Tiramisu, everyone was exclaiming, "No more pricey coffee shop for me! This is just as delicious! Yay!"

My usual grocery stores don't carry the stuff, and I'd never bought a container of it in my life. But one day last week, I found myself in a conventional grocery store (the overwhelming kind with gleaming rows of twelve different kinds of Oreos and 32 flavors of Coffee-Mate) and remembered how delicious they were heralded to be.

I picked up a bottle of yummy-sounding tiramisu and noticed it was labeled lactose-free, which made me wonder just what the heck was in it, as I had assumed it was cream and sugar.

Ooooh, no.

No cream. At ALL:

Water, sugar, partially hydrogenated soybean and/or cottonseed oil, and less than 2% of the following: sodium cassienate (a milk derivative), disodium phosphate, mono- and diglycerides, cellulose gel, cellulose gum, color added, natural & artificial flavors, carrageenan.

So, it's chemically produced cream. Awesome. To learn more about what exactly those ingredients do to you check out this post or this one.

I usually use sugar and half and half - not anything healthy, but at least it's only three ingredients: sugar, milk, and cream. All I've heard of and can pronounce.

I tried convincing myself that maybe the taste would be worth the chemically produced cream. Maybe it really would taste like a caramel macchiato (which: it's the way you make the drink that makes it a macchiato, not the taste. /end rant.).

After five minutes of hemming and hawing, I just couldn't bring myself to put the bottle in my basket. I satiated my need to get some sugary, creamy substance for my coffee by grabbing a bottle of some organic hazelnut coffee creamer. The first ingredient was organic non-fat milk, followed by organic cane syrup - so I felt a bit less apprehensive about the purchase. (Totally not as good as plain old half and half with sugar).

Like flavored yogurt, flavored coffee creamer will no longer find it's way into my fridge. Sorry, Coffee-Mate, but you're creepy.

A Little Google Analytic Goodness.

When I first started blogging, I was obsessed with checking my blog stats. I wondered thinks like: How did people find my site? What did they look at? Where are they? Also, there was a visitor from City X. I know a person in City X. Ahh, it's probably a family member reading my blog and judging me harshly.

Then I got busy and a bit bored with the incessant monitoring of my stats, so I forget just how amusing it can be to see the phrases people have searched to end up at this little website.

Here are the latest gems that made me giggle:

old cousin has bigger You're leaving me in suspense here....old cousin has bigger what?

being a new kid in high school Is hard. I've been the new kid in 2nd grade, 5th grade, 8th grade, and 11th grade. Being a new kid is far worse than being a new adult at a high school. And far less fun.

can i repierce my nose with a needle Ugh. You can, but it may lead to pain and infection. Just saying. (See: post repiercing my nose with needle and my naive, triumphant grin. Oh, the things I could tell you, Ashley. At least I didn't repierce with a pushpin like I'd contemplated.)

don't wear juniors clothing Don't judge me. You don't understand how hard the world is when you're a tiny little person. No, these are not jeans from Delias, thankyouverymuch.

dried blood in my nose after c-section That may be unrelated. I mean, unless there's some nose-uterus connection I'm unaware of. Though, honestly, I shouldn't be giving you medical advice, seeing as how I have never had a c-section and am without a medical degree.

how to tell if you are too old for clothes I say you're too old for clothes when you feel like being naked all the time. You're old, do what you want, I say.

coffee makes me smarter Yes, me too. It also makes me happier. Coffee is my anti-drug. Wait, it is a drug. Crap. Fine, coffee is my favorite drug in the whole world.

it took me two years to grow out my eyebrows Well. That just sucks.

peed hotel room floor And then whoever Googled this spent an hour on my website. I hope you found what you're looking for. And that you decided NOT to pee on the hotel room floor.

"i'm not built to work five days a week" I am proud to say that I am #1 on Google for this search phrase. Booyah! Full-time work haters unite!

You Can Thank Me Later | Pumpkin French Toast.

Mike got me three cookbooks from my birthday from my favorite chef. A cupcake cookbook, a cookie cookbook, and brunch cookbook. I am in heaven. Seriously, she's amazing. Here's my latest favorite recipe:

[It's Vegan!] Pumpkin French Toast
1 cup pureed pumpkin (from a can is just fine)
1 1/2 cups almond milk (or your favorite non-dairy milk)
2 tablespoons cornstarch
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoons ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 stale Baguette, sliced diagonally in 1 inch pieces, or 8 pieces thick sliced bread
Cooking oil for the pan

Mix together all ingredients (except for the bread, obviously). Spread out baguette slices on a rimmed baking pan in a single layer. Pour on pumpkin mixture and flip to coat. Let sit for 10 minutes, then flip over and soak for 10 minutes more. (Less time if using less hearty bread - otherwise it will break from sogginess!)

Preaheat a large non-stick skillet over medium heat. Spray with cooking oil, or drizzle a little into the pan, and cook about half of the soaked breads at a time for 5 to 7 minutes on one side and about 3 minutes on the other. They should be golden to medium brown and flecked with darker spots. Keep warm on a plate covered with tin foil while you cook the second batch.

Photo + Recipe Source.

She's Sort of Ridiculously Adorable, No?

My new lens + adorable little sister visiting + a gorgeous day = photo shoot, of course!

I am loving this new lens - even though I'm still not spending as much time as I'd like on my photo skills, I adore pretending like I'm a real photographer...

Tomorrow I have the day off, so it will be spent with Emmie, at the eye doctor, and working on design jobs while at a coffee shop...pretending I'm freelancing for living.

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PS: My Starbucks Giveaway ends tomorrow at 9am EST, so be sure to enter if you haven't already! Coffee is good. Mmm. (Or will make a good gift if you're not a fan!)

Just Like on Everybody Loves Raymond. Except NOT.

After living far from my family for five years, we've been about an hour drive away for the past year or so. (And by far, I mean - a 40-hour plane ride for three of those years.) It was a choice we made to move closer to them (and to the fabulous city of Cleveland, of course.)

The Benefits of Living Near-ish to Family

• DVR/satellite television access. (Uh, these are in no particular order...)

• Suggesting we go out to dinner and always being treated.

• Seeing my siblings get older. When I left for college and my little brother was a wee little 9-year-old, I bemoaned the fact that he'd grow up without getting to know me. He just gave me the rundown on his skincare regimen last weekend, so I think it's safe to say we're fine.

• Being around when college or Colorado sister come home to visit.

• Laughing with my mom as my 15-year-old brother suddenly cares about his hair. And his breath. And his skin. And wondering together HOLY CRAP, WHEN DID HE BECOME A TEENAGER!?

• With a crazy amount of little cousins in the area, it's always someone's birthday. Birthday cake = score.

• Playing dominoes with my grandparents on a Friday night.

• Watching Mike teach my little brother how to play guitar. Precious.

• Babysitting my cousins - getting to take care of them and play with them and be a part of their lives.

• No long drives or expensive plane rides needed. A major WIN.

• 8 cousins, 3 aunts, 3 uncles, 2 parents, 2 siblings, and 2 grandparents live within a an hour of us. Support system much?

• We can visit for the day and not stay for the whole weekend...although we usually end up staying the whole weekend, somehow.

• Pilfered cereal and cans of soup taste better than ones you buy.

• Being around for things like this and this.
  

I think I just love being a part of my family's life more often. We might not always be around, but for now, it's working wonderfully. (Minus this sort of thing. But, you know. No one's perfect.)

Do you live near your family? As 20-somethings, we're now more mobile and have a say in where we live. Did you jet away as soon as possible? Would you hate living close to them? Do you wish you'd be closer? Are your parents down the street?

B.

On a trip to the nursing home where I take high school girls to volunteer, I came across a man in a wheelchair. With his plaid pajama pants, a head full buzzed grey hair, Velcro New Balances, and an adorably shy, sweet smile, I stopped to chat with him.

As we talked, he planted his New Balances on the ground and rocked his wheelchair back and forth. Even though he was well into his 80s, he reminded me of a shy, young boy with a crush as he fiddled with the rim of a paper cup in his lap. He’d glance up at me as he punctuated every sentence with that charming smile of his.

Me: "So, I see you have a giant American flag and a military haircut – were you in the service?"
B: "Yes…well…a long time ago….
I was in….that one….
I’m sorry, I can’t remember."
Me: "It’s okay. Were you going to say what war you were in? What branch of service?"
B: "Um….I….
.....Oh, don’t waste your time with me."
Me: "You’re not a waste of time. I’m here to spend time with you. It’s okay if you can’t remember. Can you remember today? Was it a good day?"
B: "Yes. It was. A very good day."
Me: "What did you do today?"
B: "I, uh…went…to that place…
….
I really wish you wouldn’t waste your time with me."

There is no smile when he says this, only a slight, embarrassed shaking of his head. As if he can’t believe himself. As if forgetting is just so painful. So humiliating. I hate that he feels ashamed of himself.

Me: "B, you’re not a waste of time. I mean, you still have a great smile. What else do you need?"
B: "Really? You think so?"

The smile is back.

Me: "Definitely! It’s great."

Mentally grasping for something that he might remember, hoping that I don’t ask a question that will force him to acknowledge the fact that he…forgets.

Me: "So, do you like coffee?"
B: "Yes! Oh, I love coffee."

The smile grows.

Me: "Did you have coffee today?"
B: "Yes, I did."

Victory. I can tell he’s secretly pleased with himself for remembering something, anything. I ask him a few more questions about how he takes his coffee (with cream and sugar - he likes it sweet, “naturally”) and if he enjoys fall. We chat for a few more minutes. It’s time for me to leave.

Me: "Well, I have to go. It was great meeting you."
B: "You, too."

I walk away.

B: "Um…"
Me: "Yes?"
B: "Thank you for being so understanding."

I walk away with tears in my eyes and my heart fluttering.

The next week, I stop by his room.

He remembers me.

He. Remembers. Me. (And tries to convince me that he’s separated from his wife. But that's another story.)

We chat until it’s time for me to leave.

I walk away.

B: "Um…"
Me: "Yes?"
B: "If you don’t have anything to do, you could…come see me again."

Crying at Work is Always Fun.

I got to work today, sat down for our department meeting, and burst into tears.

(It’s a good thing I work with all women.)

If only she hadn't asked, with the sympathetic head tilt, "Everything okay?" Which is, of course, The Worst Question Ever if you're on the verge of tears.

As I was driving to work, my car started making a ridiculously loud grinding and scraping noise a few miles from work. Without a phone, running late for a meeting, and a husband a few hours away, I decided to keep driving. Only slightly scared that the car would burst into flames, causing me to swerve into oncoming traffic and die a fiery death.*

Add to that a good dose of holy-crap-I’m-in-over-my-head-with-this-huge-work-project, a sprinkle of completely forgetting to go a meeting, and a dash of telling a 16-year-old that her adopted grandma died and you've got the makings for a day that would make anyone dissolve into tears.

(At least, that's what I tell myself - otherwise, I just get embarrassed about all the crying. Hate the crying.)

Today has basically left me a human marshmallow of emotions, so I'm just going to look at happy photos. . .

* No death, just a catalytic converter shield that rusted out. The friendly mechanic fixed it for free then told me I am dire need of new ball joints. I'm not sure what these are, but surely I can find them for cheaper than $480. Note to self: check Froogle. (Which, apparently isn't called "Froogle" anymore. And hasn't been since 2006. Oh.)

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PS: Blah blah blah blah Starbucks giveaway!!!

I'll Be the Bag Lady Sipping a Latte.

This post is a part of 20SB’s Blog Carnival: Can’t Live Without, and Alice.com is awarding prizes to lucky bloggers and readers!

It’s no secret that we tend to be cheap frugal around here. I’m currently only buying second-hand clothing, I’ve bragged about a twelve dollar outfit, I rarely buy books, I don’t have a TV, we only have one car, and I make lots of gifts myself. I’m not a fancy-nice-expensive handbag girl, a fancy-nice-expensive shoe girl, or a fancy-nice-expensive car girl. I do my own nails, dye my own hair, and cut my own bangs. And I’ve never spent more than $50 for an article of clothing – shoes included.

I never feel deprived, though, or all, “Woe is me, a poor peasant who shall never own a Coach bag.” Because: I allow myself to splurge on things that really make me happy. (Honestly, I couldn’t care less about Coach, anyway.) When thinking about what I couldn’t live without, no matter how poor we get, I realized it all comes down to one thing: Good Food.

Whether it’s a morning mocha, grocery shopping at Trader Joes and Whole Foods, Friday night take-out Thai, or brunch with Mike – I spend money on food.

Maybe it’s silly to spend money on something that won’t last, that I won’t treasure for years or show proudly to my friends, but I love the social aspect of eating (and drinking coffee, of course). Grabbing a cup of coffee with a friend is glorious, as is leaving our house to go out to dinner or brunch with Mike. It's so much more interactive and social than spending time together just watching television.

Plus, supporting a local restaurant makes for a unique experience. And I look forward to grocery shopping at a place that supports my values with options like organic, local, fair-trade, and vegetarian goods– and by treating their workers well. Last time I was at Trader Joe’s, I had a 20-minute conversation with the cashier about how much she loved her job –having the freedom to show her tattoos, wear jeans, and enjoy work. She even thanked me for shopping there so she could have her fabulous job.

Give me good food and grocery shopping experiences over McDonald’s and Walmart any day!

And sometimes, a yummy latte is just the perfect treat. Sometimes, going to Chipotle with my husband makes a Tuesday night just a bit special. Sometimes, a difficult day is improved when I go out and pick up lunch for myself.

I guess it’s all about priorities, and I love good food. Food that brings people together, that is a treat, that is produced and sold sustainably, and that makes my day better.

I won't judge you for your Christian Louboutin addiction, and you won't judge me when I don't know how awesome your shoes are. Or how to pronounce the designer's name. (Or having to Google the designer to see what exactly she/he designs.)

I won't judge you for drinking crappy coffee and buying processed, white bread and you won't judge me for shopping in Whole Foods or buying a latte. Or planning my vacation around finding good restaurants and taking photos of it. Deal?

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PS: Have you entered my Starbucks giveaway??

On Defiance…and a Little Special.

I’m not sure why, but last month was the quietest month I’ve had since I joined Etsy. Perhaps it’s because I raised my prices to reflect the actual time and materials going into things and acknowledge that I’m not, in fact, a sweatshop in Nicaragua so I probably can’t compete with Target. Whatever the reason may be, I’ve decided to jump start holiday shopping AND celebrate my year on Etsy (official on November 24^th) with a special: my earrings are buy-one-get-one-half-off for the entire month of November. Find my shop here.

I still dream of being a work-at-home mom in a few years – designing website and invitations and Etsying, and perhaps working a part-time job at Trader Joe’s or a coffee shop while Mike pursues a PhD. (Why, yes, we will be quite poor. Thank you for noticing.) I do adore my job right now – aside from its time-sucking properties – so I wonder if I should count myself as lucky enough to have a fulfilling, wonderful job and leave my little dreams of working for myself behind. (Plus, taxes are scary. I like my easy little W2 forms. Working for yourself = MORE TAX FILING = hives.)

Does becoming an adult mean accepting the restraints of life? I can't help but feel defeated accepting a 9-5 job as my future. Even if it is a really fun job.

So: I refuse to settle.

I refuse to grow up.

I maintain my dreams and desires.

These are my goals. Call me a teenager, but I'm defiant. I will not be defined by my job. I will not feel bad for finding an unorthodox career or career path.

And that is why I signed up for two more design classes next semester at the community college.

Here's to dreams.

What would you do if you didn't care what your parents/friends/family/the world thought?

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PS: Yes, I am a broken record. So enter my Starbucks giveaway and shut me up.

Her-My-O-Nee.

A few weeks ago, Mike and I were on a walk and I saw a perfectly straight, twelve inch long stick on the ground.

“It’s a wand! I should be Hermione for Halloween!” I proclaimed. But I dropped it back on the ground, thinking it was a bit too early to go wand-hunting. Surely I’d find another in a few weeks. We continued our walk, and I continued chattering away about what a perfect wand I’d found. And maybe I shouldn’t have dropped it. I mean, perfectly straight sticks don’t just grow on trees, you know!

Mike finally interrupted me, “Do you want me to go back and get it?”

I smiled and he ran back and got it for me.

Yes, we are 17-year-olds.

And yes, I was totally Hermione-Granger –slash-Hogwarts-Student (from Harry Potter, duh.) for Halloween:

I dressed up for school on Friday and ran a few errands before work – Dunkin’ Donuts, a grocery store, and Starbucks. I got the range of reactions – from “Are you, like, a hair dresser?” to “Hermione!” to getting spit on to nothing. Which was probably worse than getting spit on, because, seriously – I am wearing a freakin’ gown, people.

The girls loved it, though, and were stopping by my office all day because they heard I looked “just like Hermione!” Halloween WIN.

Halloween itself was spent with my family – parents, brother, sister, Mike, Korean exchange student, and my brother’s friend watching a ridiculous scary movie from the 80s – The Fog. That is, ridiculous AND scary, not ridiculously scary. The kind of movie where you scream and hold your sister’s hand, and then laugh at how silly the movie is. Perfect for an overactive imagination like myself. Mass amounts of candy and pumpkin-flavored goods were also consumed – making it a Halloween DOUBLE WIN.

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Don't forget to enter my Starbucks giveaway! (It's a contest for me, too - so not only will you get FREE coffee, but you'll make me happy. Thanks!)