Valentimes is serious times... + lots of random links :)

Can I just say that I am soooo thankful for the way I was raised?  (Why yes, yes I can, because this is MY blog.)  I am very thankful for the way I was raised.  My parents are so stinkin' awesome it's ridiculous.  For instance, I have ALWAYS enjoyed Valentines day.  You wanna know why?  Because in my family it was never just about one's significant other.  It was about everyone you loved.  Besides that, it was a like a mini Easter because we all got candy from everybody, and even occasionally a present.  (The Craig family loves any excuse to have a holiday celebration.) So, when I think of Valentines, I don't think of smooches with boyfriends (ew, gross), or bunches of red roses, or even sappy chic flics (Braveheart, anyone?).  I also don't get angry that I don't have (and never have had) a Valentine.  (Okay, maybe a little annoyed...)

Now, please don't think I am being all high and mighty since the rest of the single world tends to feel differently than I.  I totally understand your bitterness because, dang it, that is the propaganda that Hallmark and their constitients (this is a quote that I didn't misspell, btw) have been shoving into our brains since we were old enough to watch TV.  The only reason I escaped is because my mom would spread out the red, pink, and white construction paper, hand out glue, and chunk some stickers, glitter, candy, and markers our way.  Then my brothers, sister, and I would get crackin' on making those cards.  Boy howdy did we make some awesome ones!  They weren't just the piece-of-paper-folded-in-half kind, either.  Usually we got creative with making pop-ups, heart-shaped flaps with messages underneath, and paper pockets full of (chocolate) candy.  Our cards were veritable labyrinths of Valentinian delight.

Okay, maybe I have gone through a few bitter stages.  I should be honest and say that I haven't been a jolly Happy Couples Day enjoyer every single year, but for the most part I have had fun.  Especially when I get to be with mi familia.  

I didn't get to be with my actual, blood related family on Valentines this year, but I did have a pretty sweet adventure with some sisters of mine at Sam.  My day began with pancakes a la Johnna, and then we snuggled up with Sophie (her miniature schnauzer) and spent the day with Mr. Darcy, a la Colin Firth.  If you're single on Valentines, this is in no way pathetic, I assure you.  No margaritas or wine coolers were involved and there was only one dog and no cats.  Just pancakes and some chicken fricassee, which I cooked!  Yes ma'am/sirree-bob that's right.  I cooked something that called for things like "Fines Herbes" and "mace."  The website is totally awesome and I will be going there often. Johnna spruced things up with some fried pickles and iced tea and was my moral support during the ordeal of new recipe making.


Later, six of us from my resource group, plus baby Shane, went to Houston for yummy Vietnamese food.  Next time I am getting Pho because Mandy's was appetizing and fun.  There was a jungle of tantalizing green things (including fresh basil leaves) and a steamy bowl of soup. Then she mixed them... 

This has changed the way I think about soup:

We wanted to go to a really authentic place but we got there and discovered it was closed (sad faces, please).  Instead we went to a cool place called Kim Son which turned out to be kind of delicious and rife with funny waiters.  The only drawback was that we were in the direct line of the front door which faced north.  This would not have been a big deal if a super windy cold front had not been blowing through with hurricane force.  

After dinner, we visited Daniel.  Wow.  Someday I will attempt to write a blog about what it's like to go and see this man.  He's sort of like a pastor, sort of like a prophet, but definitely full of the wisdom of the Lord.  He also happens to be very good friends with my campus pastors so I am pretty much excited about that.  Anyway, that is a story for a later date and an earlier hour.  My brain is tired (which will account for my repetition of words) and after talking so much about food, I am also a little hungry.  All this to say, my Valentines day was one of the best ever and I am so thankful that I got to spend it with so many people that I love.

Good night everyone!

Check out my title inspiration!

Hope you enjoyed that :)


Now check out my friend Tamara's blog because I love her to death and she is worth knowing about. Kthanks.

It's funny because it's true! (as said by my sometime Ukrainian friend, Max)

According to my dear, dear (and like-minded) friend, Leah, there is no limit to how many blogs I am allowed to post in one day, week, month year, etc.  I certainly don't want to come off as some desperate blogger noob, but today I have found myself with a little extra time and I am glad to know I am not breaking any posting etiquette.  Sadly, my free time is the result of a sinus infection that rends useful attentiveness powerless and leaves me with only the focusing abilities required for tasks that don't require much.  That means, frequent homework breaks for blogging and Sims playing!

Remember those days when we were little kids and responsibilities stopped when we were sick?  Yeah, me, too.  Lying on the couch with sole power of the remote, being waited on hand and foot by Mom or Dad, and all without guilt because there really was nothing we could do about it... (have you noticed yet that I am a fan of ellipses?)  Sadly, I can't enjoy being sick as much as I used to when I have several thousand (exaggeration) phonetic Spanish words to transcribe, due this afternoon.  There's always the chance I will feel too bad to go to class, though, right?  Not that I, a responsible, diligent college student, would ever HOPE not to have to go to class....

I am debating whether or not to relate humorous yet almost uncomfortably personal sickness details.  Like, how many tissues I probably go through in an hour and the finer points of Neti-potting (which I have not yet learned, incidentally).  But I suppose that uncomfortably personal details are socially acceptable through a medium by which I am willingly to tell my life to the vast, uncharted web of the wide world, or something like that...  People do it everyday.  However, people ≠ everyone.  Maybe I will just leave it up to the WWW (which is probably just three people at this point) to imagine how many tissues I use (but I will say it's probably in the neighborhood of 25+).

Man of the house, or new fridge art?

So here's a random story that might (or just as likely might not) interest you.  The other day two of my lovely roommates went to the computer lab before hopping over for some Tortilla Fresca (mmmm, love that cheesy, greasy goodness!).  While eating, my roommate leafed through her stack of papers and found that she had acquired something unexpected:

Yes, that's right. Tom Selleck. Needless to say, they both died laughing.  I didn't know anything about this until one night when we were having a somewhat serious discussion about life and she whipped it out saying "This is for you."

Seriousness=gone.  I certainly did not expect a black and white of Thomas Magnum to pop up out of nowhere.  Then I died laughing.

Mr. Selleck was given the place of honor on our fridge with a magnet caption of "I'm busy being really handsome." (but only because "good-looking" was not an option... maybe one daiye.)

I think I might start a series of distinguished gentlemen fridge art.  I think I'm feelin' some John Wayne next, maybe, what do you think?  

Yes.  Win.  Now the only difficulty is the caption.

P.S. the funerals will be held simultaneously and chocolate bouquets will be accepted, with very warm thanks, by the surviving roommate(s).

Adventures, in general and specific

I really believe I have read a great many of the right sort of books (the kind that make your brain bend backwards and do push-ups while also taking you outside of yourself)  and what I have learned from them (besides what not to do in a dragon's lair) is that we were all made to want adventure.  Think about that just a little, if you don't mind, because it will be fun and might be healthy for your brain.  Math problems aren't the only thing that make it exercise, you know.

Life is supposed to be an adventure made up of lots of adventures.  Have you ever noticed, though, that the trouble with adventures is that they're so hard to recognize?  While we're having them all we see is the hardship, the frustration, the little sleep, cold feet, fear, and uncertainty.  It's not until we're sitting on our couches safe, dry, and recovered, that we are able to look back and realize that the ordeal had actually been an adventure.  I doubt that Bilbo Baggins would have understood that's what he was on in The Hobbit if he had not been told so to begin with.  I have decided to take my cue from Gandalf, too.  Bad traffic, hectic schedules, running to class in the freezing rain... all these things are more bearable if I recognize them for what they are instead of the mundane annoyances the enemy tries to turn them into.

Now, as promised, I will relate my Saturday morning adventure:

While walking along a small, barely used highway (the state park was too crowded) we (my three friends and their dog) found a nice, wide trail.  Naturally, being adventurous women, we took the trail and left the road behind.  Who wouldn't?  It was a sunny day, but still everything managed to seem just the least bit creepy.  I mean, why was this trail here, anyway?  It was not fit for cars, it was not for power-lines (we crossed a power-line strip where the trees and underbrush was cleared away), it had no apparent purpose.  Then, in the distance, we saw a car.  We thought it might be a boat at first, but the closer we got, there was no doubt that it was a car.

Why was it there?  How did it get there?  How long had it been there?  Maybe there was a homeless man living in it.  Maybe we were about to walk up on a crime scene.  Maybe it was a crime scene with a homeless man who had a knife and we were about to get knifed to death...

Our imaginations went wild, happily so, as we approached it.  The dog loped along with us care-free, so we weren't really worried.  But our interest was piqued in a real way once we got to the car.  I'll show you why:

It was burned.  It had been torched.  The paint was gone, the metal had melted in some places...  Weird.  It had been there a while, too, because the ground around it had not been recently bothered by either traffic or fire.  I'm somewhat used to cars being dumped in the middle of nowhere--we have some family land out in west Texas that has several ancient vehicles resting in peace--but this was not like that at all.  This was deliberate destruction.

The only thing on it that was not burned beyond recognition (the license plate was empty) was this:

Curiouser and curiouser, right?  Doesn't it just make you want to know WHY this PORSCHE was out in the middle of nowhere, burned to death?  And we even had to cross a significantly sized ditch that no car of this caliber could cross, so, weird.

We decided that the most likely possibility is that it was stolen and then the person burned it to get rid of the evidence since selling it would only get them caught.  We also discussed that it could have been dumped out there because there was a body in the trunk.....

We checked.  There wasn't one.  (At least, not anymore...)

ANYway.  It just made me want to go all Nancy Drew on its hiney and figure it out, but of course I have not. What I have done is imagine all sorts of unlikely but interesting reasons why an expensive sports car met its untimely and unfortunate demise somewhere in the woods.

Once we determined that we could not determine anything else, we left and continued our walk in more inhabited areas.  Here's another picture from our trek for the heck of it:

Thanks for reading and please don't hesitate to share your ideas on the Porsche case, but make sure they're clever.  I don't want any downer-duh suggestions, please!

Babies in the bushes... (aka, ADVENTURE)

I am hardly ever not imagining something, thinking about something to imagine, writing something I have imagined, or getting involved in something someone else has imagined (books and movies). It's not really something I can control. Anyone who writes knows this is just what one gets stuck with, though it may be there at different intensities at different times of life.

This is one of the reasons I picked the majors that I did. Spanish and English majors do little else besides read other peoples stories and then write about them. Crazy idea for a degree, really, if you think about it. (You might think I'm joking, but last semester I had four literature classes, two in English and two in Spanish. Cool, but also not cool.)

All this to say, I get bored when I am walking to my car--drawback number one of no longer living a football field away from CHSS (football coach's kids always measure distance in football fields, btw). By the time I am walking to my car, my brain is MUCH to tired to think of stuff like life, so I amuse my poor mind with crazy scenarios. Like, what if, when I was walking to my car past the long row of bushes I happened to look down and see... Hmm, what? How about a baby. What then? Definitely nothing conventional like spending the rest of the day talking to police and medical personnel. The imagination has nothing to do with real life unless one wants it too. And who wants that? Not me after a day of bilinguality, that's for darn sure.

Anyway, that's just to get you started thinking. Sometimes I don't have to manufacture adventures. Sometimes I have real ones. I had one yesterday of Nancy Drew proportions. If I wrote that story I would call it... Well, actually I suck at titles, so I'll just tell the story and you can name it whatever you like.

My epic Nancy Drew Adventure will be posted soon!! Stay tuned.

Testing 1 2 3! I can post from my phone?!?! What is this, the 21st century?

Coming Soon: ?!

I might...MIGHT...start this little old blog up again (which really means, just 'start it up'). I have been inspired by some good friends (Leah, Tamara, and Lauren) to write things other people can see instead of limiting my rad ability to string words together to my desktop (the "for my eyes only" file. My scribblings have stage fright).

The greatest thing about having a blog is, I...extrapolate, is that I have an outlet to share my rants with the world. The best thing about this blog is that I had the wisdom and forethought to entitle it "Whatever I Feel Like." So, my options are limitless and so are the possibilities!

Be warned, though. If ever I begin a rant there's no telling where it will go or how long it will take to get it all out.