the elephant in the room.

I went on a date tonight. A date with a very nice boy. This was our second date, so we were still on the "Getting to Know You" topics, which made for very interesting conversations. He asked questions about things that I don't normally talk about. With anyone. Not that I can't talk about them, just that I don't. He asked me if the topics made me uncomfortable....here's the thing: I can't decide if I'm uncomfortable talking about them or not. I don't have a problem about talking about them; I am just not used to it. Now this is the thing on my mind....Do I want to get comfortable talking about them? Do I like knowing them in my head, but not talking about them? What would happen if I did start talking about them? Anything? Everything? Nothing? This is what happens when you venture into the dating world. Mass confusion. 

snowflakes and sugar cookies.

 Or should I say blizzards and blubber-building bonbons? Yes, that seems more appropriate. 

 Hey, it's the cold, winter, holiday time. We're supposed to be building up our fat stores for the freezing weather that is sure to come. 

 40 pre-sized sugar cookie dough balls, courtesy of the Scout camp that I worked at this summer. You get to take left overs home when you stay until the very end. Just ask my 10 pound box of bacon. 

 There is nothing in this world quite like warm cookies. Nothing. 

Actually, there probably is, but that list that is much too long. 

 

And when all the cookies are all done, the weather takes a turn for the beautiful.

hp.

Hewlett-Packard? How perfect? Henry peed? If the real answer to those two letters does not come to mind, let me illuminate you about the world's greatest phenomenon. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 premiered last night. Of course I was in attendance. I love Harry Potter. Have since I first discovered him when we were both eleven. I have loved reading every single book, literally growing up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. To me, the characters are more than fictional...They actually are real. Because of all this and so much more that would take way too long to write, the second-to-last installation of the movie series was super important to be a part of. I actually haven't been too impressed with the movies, with the exception of the sixth one. This new movie blows my mind. I love it. Even though I knew what was going to happen I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. I am planning when I will see it again, hopefully before the end of this month. There are just some things in this world that stand for much more than what they seem, and this movie/book series is one of them. Seriously, if you are looking for something to change your life, become a Harry Potter fan!

old woman raceway.

Since I ride a bus to and from my college's campus, my car is stuck in a park-n-ride lot all day. When I finally get to the parking lot at the the of my day, I get in my car and speed home as fast as I can. And by speeding I mean going 5 miles over the speed limit. Hey, some of us live life in the mildly fast lane. Unless I'm behind old-lady-who-drives-an-old-lady-car-while-eating-potato-chips. Then I don't know when I'll get home. I have gotten stuck behind her enough times to learn that I need to leave the parking lot before she does. This entails me speed walking off the bus, sneakily watching her to make sure she's still going slow, unlock my car, throw my backpack and lunchbox (yes, I have a lunchbox) in the passenger seat, and leave before her lights even come on. Has this worked? Oh yes. Did I do this again today to ensure control over my own speed limit? Oh yes. Will I continue to do this? Oh yes. Would I rather look like a complete fool rather than drive painfully slow for 15 minutes instead of 10? Oh yes. 

this one's for you.

This is my father. His birthday is today. He's a great man. He joins me in scaring my little sister. He introduced me to Tim Burton films when I was in elementary school. He thinks I'm funny. He has part of one of his fingers cut off and likes to mess with people by putting it by his nostril so it looks like it's halfway up his nose. He plays the bass guitar. Thanks to his own birthday present, he now plays the ukelele. He takes my family ATVing. He cooks. Really well. He likes the simple things. Some would say cheap, but he likes to say frugal. He's paid for most of my college tuition. He tells jokes whenever he can. He knows many, many lines from movies and enjoys quoting them in everyday conversation. He took me to his history classes when he was going to school. He likes to give homeless people the benefit of the doubt and gives them money anyway. He says that we're not the ones to judge. He likes to listen to classic rock. He should be French because he uses so much butter on his food. He tells me the truth about myself. He's in a band with four of his friends. He thinks Wal-Mart is of the devil. Even though we don't always see eye to eye, he is still there to support me. He's the reason why you're reading this. This is my father. 

beignet.

*ben/yay. The word is French, but I learned about them by watching Disney's The Princess and the Frog. Wonderful show filled with wonderful, cartoon food. I got curious about beignets because they looked so marvelous and everyone got much happier after eating a fresh batch. I thought they were some kind of donut/pastry. Come to find out, they're scones. Everyone outside of Utah would call it fry bread, but I call them scones. Literally, bread dough fried in oil, covered in butter and jam or honey. I was devastated when I found out my precious beignets were scones. My previous thoughts of beignets were shattered. My day was ruined. My life came to a halt. And then I made Navajo tacos with them. And then I made them again. And now I love that I have my very own homemade recipe for making them. And now I will share it with you so that you can partake in this horror-turned-fairytale food experience. Enjoy. 

what happens when you live in a small town for a summer.

As some of you may know, I spent my summer working at a Boy Scout summer camp that was housed in a very small town. I mean very. The combined two cities that were within a half hour's drive couldn't equal to more than 1,000 residents. The phrase "small town" usually implies, at least to me, that the area is mostly farm and this place was no exception. Everyone had trucks, tractors, and trailers. Ooh, and farmer's tans. I used to hate trucks because they get terrible gas mileage and cost a lot of money. Then I drove the camp vehicle...An F-150. Cherry red. I fell in love instantly. It was big. It was powerful. It was fast. It was all I needed from any automobile. Call me power hungry/environment killer/American consumer, but driving that truck changed my life. So did listening to the radio in that small town. I don't really like pop music and the only other station was, you guessed it, country. My tentmate also loved country and would play it often so it was fate that I would grow to like it. Again. I had this country phase in elementary school, but grew out of it probably because none of my other friends listened to it. I also had an oldies phase (not classic rock, but older), *NSYNC phase, classic rock phase, and rap phase (which thankfully did not last very long), but I digress. Because I have a newfound love of country, my iTunes has acquired many new songs, including all the ones by Taylor Swift. I don't care if her past songs don't relate to you because she wrote them when she was 15, but I urge you to listen to her new CD. URGE!! It's called Speak Now and I couldn't agree more with the title. Around some people I have been known to say my mind, even though my mom wishes this would happen a little less. This CD does exactly what I do. Except for she reaches millions of people and I don't. Either way, I love what she's done, stand behind her, and desire for you to listen to her songs! What is even cooler is that she's put her inspiration for all of her songs on her website so that anyone can see what her songs are about. Way cool. I love it when I find out I'm not the only one with a fiery temperament. 

rose petals and toilets.

Candles are marvelous things. They have the power to transform any room into a comforting oasis. The convenient and transportable spin on candles is air fresheners. You know, those loud, foaming aerosol cans that are supposed to make your bathroom smell nice after you weren't so nice to it? Well, I have news for the air freshener companies and you users of such products....NOTHING NEUTRALIZES THE SMELL OF POOP. No matter what you use, the smell of your number two will remain until new air is brought in. What do you get when you do use those fountains of cursed Island Tropical sprays? Coconuts and crap. That's it. You don't magically get transported to the Caribbean where no one goes to the bathroom and everything smells fruity fresh. No. You get your tootsie rolls covered by the aroma of some combination of florals and fruit. So for the love of all the people who use the bathroom after you, just turn on the fan.