Why I can't eat healthy

Fair warning, I use the word salad A LOT in this post and after reading it you probably will feel like it's not a real word anymore.

All day long I have been thinking about the salad I am going to make for dinner. I hated any form of lettuce/spinach/green leafy things until approximately four months ago, but I am going to continue appreciating this new-found salad love until it vanishes as quickly as it came. So, this is the glorious salad I was going to prepare:

Totally amped on the realization I was craving a salad, I started taking it too far (as I am prone to doing). All the sudden I had the next five meals of my life planned out and they all involved some kind of spinach and fruit concoction that I found on fancy food blogs. It had been a long day at work and the thought kept me going for the better part of eight hours. If that sounds pathetic, then I have described it properly.

Internal instances that occurred:
"This project is hard…but I want to eat healthy! I'm a superhero! I can do anything!"

"My neck hurts from looking at a computer screen with my head tilted in bewilderment all day…but as soon I eat those salad meals I am going to feel invincible!"

"EXCEL SPREADHSEET! I would kill you…..but then I wouldn't feel so peaceful as I eat my delicious salad dinner."

Then I got an email.
"Hey…want to get pizza for dinner tonight?"

Seriously? Of course I want to get pizza tonight.

*salad from here

Yesterday my little brother Tyson went on an LDS mission. It was sad to say goodbye to him for two years because it's probably been in the last two years that I've really grown close to him. As kids he was the one who would indulge my creative whims, acting out parts in my pretend plays and choreographing dances to old songs that we would perform for the family with elaborate props and costumes.

As he grew up he became a hilarious partner in crime, stealing election signs in the dark until my car was packed and sneaking out to get tacos at 2 a.m.  He can flawlessly fold his 6'4" frame into a standing front flip, he's the happiest person I know and he always has a hilarious story about his adventures. I will miss him so much…here's to hoping I can get better at letter writing quickly!

your cool was contagious.

 I was getting that itch to delete Facebook again and then I remembered last time.

It was a Friday when I first gathered the resolve to delete my Facebook account. Tired of the mindlessly angry statuses from people I knew in high school and the strange compulsion I feel to check it every hour (conservative estimate), I clicked the 'deactivate' button.

Propelled by straight up internet rage at that point, I also deleted the Facebook app on my phone and tried to create a whole new identity for myself that involved literature and fields of grass.

Saturday was hard. I woke up and was checking my email when I remembered what I had done. There was a little black spot on the screen of my phone where once sat that charming blue "F" icon. What if someone I stalk posted pictures? What if I got an event invitation? It didn't matter, I told myself, because today will be full of real things like playing games on my phone making homemade lemonade and spraying febreeze cleaning my house.

I got out of bed and began driving to my parents house for a little visit when my car broke down. As I waited at the nearest gas station for my dad, all kinds of statuses ran through my head.

"Amanda is probably going to be riding bikes a LOT more after today."

"Amanda is apparently sitting near a beehive because a swarm of bees literally just circled my car, stingers ready and waiting."

"Amanda is throwing up gas station horchata. Bad life choices are all over the place today."

I could tweet them, I thought, but who would care? My one spam account follower? Resigned to keeping my thoughts to myself, I put my phone away and spent the next 20 minutes staring and people and trying to discreetly look away when they caught me staring.

That weekend I was all about starting a revolution. I nearly talked almost three people into deleting their pages, even. So, as you can imagine, it was a sad Monday morning when I realized what a fool I had been to shun the online world and came back. I can't do that to myself again.

(Image via weheartit)

Doing Stuff, Learning Things

In case you haven't heard, I have hobbies a hobby. No big deal*. Just thought I would photo document it in case it seems like all I ever do is watch TV and read other people's blogs. So come with me, let's explore the world of bookbinding.

folding and poking

sewing and knotting

 

 pressing and gluing

 

cutting and binding

 paper choosing and measuring

more gluing and waiting

The finished product-- linen paper, bound with leather and a vintage map of Paris.

* It is a VERY big deal. Bookbinding class entails interacting with strangers in an unfamiliar environment and cutting things with an Exacto knife. Two fears conquered right there. 

Culver's and Cats in Cardigan: Alliteration, Embrace It

The best part of my President's Day weekend? When I found out there was a Culver's right here in Utah.

(Sidenote: The smirk, I know, it has to stop. It's not ironically funny when I do it alone by myself. I know, I know.)

Not just the home of the most unhealthy fast food ever (I had a butterburger, fried cheese curds and a custard shake-- enough said), Culver's was pretty pivotal to my Midwestern high school years.  

I shopped pretty much exclusively at H&M, spent Friday nights having weird run-ins at Culver's and developed a crack cocaine-like addiction to Panera Bread while I lived in Illinois. 

It's easy for me to get nostalgic, but I daresay that all those things are totally overshadowed by Friday nights spent dressing cats in sweaters and eating pizza and playing mistress to my dearest Alison. 

VD and Hot Dogs. Not a metaphor.

Valentine's Day was a lovely affair. If you're ever wanting to hang out with adolescents on their first awkward group date or old men with gambling addictions, might I suggest Nickel Mania on Valentine's Day? It was seriously the best. David and I went NICKEL INSANE. 

For Valentine's Day, I tracked down a hot dog toaster for Dave. He got me a Kindle, so it's hard to tell who really came out ahead here. It was partly as a nod to "How I Met Your Mother" and partly because I thought it was not a real thing until I bought it online.

It's real. Now, a little precursor before I tell you about our hot dog feast last night. Ever since I was little I have had this weird thing about hot dogs. I seriously can't stand the smell, look, taste, etc. of them 90% of the time. The other 10% it's like hot dogs are made of every delicious food in the world and if I don't eat 100 in one sitting I will never be happy again.  My mom feels the same way, so it might be a genetic thing. 

So. This all led to Hot Dog Binge 2011.  I'm going to play out the rest of the night through a series of conversations:



First scene, entering the grocery store. 
Dave: "What should we get at the store besides hot dogs and buns?"
Me: "I'm probably just going to have one hot dog. I don't really like them. So maybe I'll just buy a little salad or something."
Dave: "Okay, I'll just get some chips then."


Ten minutes later, after I have chosen aforementioned salad and we head over to the hot dog section.
Dave, staring at the wall of hot dogs: "What kind?"
Me, starting to get the hot dog fever: "Um let's get the most expensive because they probably taste the best. What about these? or these? Are these real beef? Are these? No. Oh, these look good! Yeah...real good...I'm starting to get really hungry."
People behind us: "grumble grumble"


Later, in the chip aisle.
 Me, feeling really anxious to eat a hot dog, losing all sense of rationality: "GET THE SOUR CREAM AND ONION. I'm going to eat these chips and hot dogs TO DEATH. I want AT LEAST five hot dogs. HOT DOGS UNTIL I PUKE!"
Dave: "Okay I'm just going to grab a dr--"
Me: "HOT. DOGS."

At home, with the hot dog maker all plugged in and ready to toast some hot dogs.
 Me, desperation in my eyes: "Hot dog machine I NEEEED a hot dog. Please, please, please, I'm begging you. Why is it taking so long?!???"


Fade to black. An hour later, the salad sits forlornly in the fridge.
 Me: "I want to die. Why did I eat three and a half hot dogs."
Dave: "My stomach hurts. So. Many. Hot. Dogs."

Valentine's Day Feverrrrr

Great things about today:

•  I got to wear leggings as pants. My work decided to have an Oscars party today and we were supposed to dress like a celebrity. After some brainstorming here in the marketing department, we decided we would all go as incognito celebs. I immediately called Mary-Kate Olsen. Hellloooooo leggings and 5 rings and 20 necklaces and dirty hair. It's practically a dream come true for me to come to work like this. 

•  Endless supplies of sugar cookies with red hots on top. The bestttt. My lovely co-workers also made my dreams come true by bringing sugar cookies, fun dip and coke gummies. I had four sugar cookies for breakfast. And fun dip. A sugar stick that you dip in sugar. 

• My glasses from Warby Parker are here! Now I just have to decide which ones I want.Hopefully the creepy bathroom shots I sent Alison will help her help me.

•   I have a hot date tonight that consists of Estes pizza and Nickel Cade. Only my favorite things in the world.

Valentine's Day! Valentine's Day! Valentine's Day!