Tag Archives: musings

The Blonde One

When we were growing up, my sisters and I envisioned a very similar future for ourselves. Small but odd details seemed to confirm that our lives would forever run in this special synch: across a span of many years, we all lived in the same dorm room at Indiana University (Forest A #418), we all majored in French, and we seemed to go through similar phases in the length of our hair. We would all have it long–then the impulse would hit and we would all cut it short.

Basically, we figured, our lives would be the same.

What the heck–we would probably end up living in the same town and having children at the exact same time. Or something.

During the past year and a half, this theory has completely fallen apart:

1. Heidi now lives in cold and isolated Fairbanks, Alaska. Erica lives in peaceful and quiet Fort Knox, Kentucky. I live in the loud and bustling city of Chicago.

2. I married a scholar; they both married army men.

3. Heidi had a baby within a year after getting married. However, four years her senior, I’m still in a fit of terror at the mere thought of a small being depending on me, pooping in any place other than a toilet, or thinking its nutrition has anything to do with the general area of my chest.

Our different paths really hit home during that roadtrip to Kentucky.

Oh my gosh, I thought. Erica and I are actually different people.

Who wudda thunk it.

She drives to Lowes to get fertilizer and plants flowers. I don’t think I’ve ever shopped at Lowes in my life, much less planted a flower.

She devises intricate systems of ropes and strings with which to hold up her window boxes. Window boxes? It’s a concept I don’t quite understand.

She has daffodils flanking her front porch. I have never even had a front porch.

She sweeps her steps in bare feet. If I ventured outside barefoot I would probably get broken glass, gum, or drug paraphenalia stuck in my feet within 0.5 seconds.

It’s a study in contrasts, alright.

However, we have arrived at our different locations for the same reasons: because of love. We all married godly, driven men whose careers have brought us where we are. We are all willing and eager to follow them wherever God leads. One happened to lead to a sleepy little town in Kentucky . . .

. . . one happened to lead to this windy metropolis.

I know that living different lives won’t drive us apart–our friendship will always be strong. It’s just weird to think that we may actually make different choices. Is that allowed?

But not to worry–wherever life leads us, our uncanny love of large bowls of popcorn indicates that there will always be a deep connection.

I love you, Blonde One!

A candy drawer and a Keurig

I have a candy drawer.

Ok, well, not ‘me’ personally.

There is a candy drawer at my job. Here it is:

Let’s take a peek . . .

Mmm, look at this little guy. What a tempter.

This candy drawer is kept fully stocked by my boss. The kind of candy that lies therein varies, but my downfall are the Snickers and Reese’s–and recently, the Almond Joys. This drawer has held me in its thrall on and off throughout my employment. Right now, I’m happy so say the thrall is off. Off, off, off! Perhaps because for the past couple months I’ve been bringing homemade cookies with me that satisfy my morning sweet tooth?

Cookies such as these . . .

or these . . .

And even this delightful quickbread (recipe coming tomorrow), which kept me going all of last week:

I only experience the sweet tooth in the mornings–really. Just look at my recipe collection for evidence: it is dominated by savory fare. So if I can make it past about 11am without giving into temptation, I’m usually home free.

I’m glad I’m in a non-candy drawer phase in my life, because almost a year ago I realized this drawer might have been involved in some . . . weight gain. The weight gain that caused me to no longer fit into various and sundry skirts, jeans, and pants. The moment I realized that my most favorite and basic black business pants had gone from a comfy classy fit to a skin-tight version in a matter of months, I chose to start saying: NO! to that drawer. I wanted my pants to fit in the old way. “I’m sorry, honey,” I said to my husband, “I know you don’t mind my new butt, however I like my old butt. I like looser jeans! I want to have a tiny tush again!” So I plugged my ears to the siren call of those crackling little packages of sweetness and I joined the gym, where I worked out on the elliptical 3 times a week for 2 months. Every other week, with hope in my heart, I broke out my black suit pants. And interestingly enough, over 2 months time, the fit of those pants didn’t change one bit.

Let’s pause and take a moment to reflect on the tiny tush that was.

*pause*

The small derriere to which I will probably never return.

*pause*

Now why the elliptical didn’t burn off some of the jigglies, well, it’s still a mystery the likes of which I may never decipher. Never mind though–even if I didn’t lose weight, I had the chance to discipline my mind. Right? And isn’t my mind more important than my tush anyway? Right? Yes? Right? Okay.

So in order to keep my current wardrobe viable, I stay away from the candy drawer. Except for every now and then, when I have a piece of chocolate with my morning coffee. It’s all about balance anyway.

The guys in the plant (yes, there’s a factory attached to my office) go through the candy pretty fast, and since there’s no knowing what may take the place of my favorite treats, I have a second candy drawer at my desk.

Hidden behind the tub of tacks is my ‘in case of an emergency’ stash.

Those candy bars have been in there for a good 6 months, folks. But it comforts me to know they’re waiting, just in case. Just in case what? I can’t quite say. In fact, my secret candy stash is starting to sound eerily familiar. Like I’m in the middle of some kind of deja vu. Like maybe this isn’t the first time I’ve hoarded candy. Huh–weird.

But enough about candy and bottoms. Let’s make a journey to the kitchen area of my little office, where a new treat awaits.

It’s this Keurig coffee maker.

My boss was tired of disgusting office coffee and comissioned me to order something fancy. Thus, the Keurig.

I used it at the Pioneer Woman’s Lodge thinking I would never enjoy its delights again, and now, lo and behold, I have access to it every day. Its flashy blue lights make me feel so . . . sophisticated. Classy. Like maybe I’m wearing fancy pointed snake-skin heels and going to the spa, instead of shuffling around the office in my socks.

Yes, I do that. How else am I going to feel the comforting effects of the foot heater I keep under my desk??

We’re in the process of trying out all the different flavors of coffee, and identifying our favorites. The coffee comes in these cute little pods:

Then there’s figuring out ideal temperature settings, and the perfect brew-size-to-creamer ratio. So much to be analysed.

When I turn it on in the morning, it takes a good 5 minutes to tell me ‘ready to brew’ on the display screen.

I’ve been using those precious 5 minutes to do pushups against the wall, squats, and lunges. Give me a few more months with the Keurig and I’ll be the friggin’ buffest coffee drinker in the office!

Okay, I’m usually the only one in the office. So I guess I’m buffest by default.

Wow! I’ve never been ‘buffest’ before, and I’ve got to say–it feels good!

The exercises continue as I access my stash of creamer:

15 seconds in the microwave is good for at least 5 deep squats.

Why hello little lady! I think I’ll call you ‘The Jenninator.’ Or do you prefer ‘The Jenninatrex’?

Goodbye old and gross coffee pot that we always neglected to wash.

Mr. Coffee will never again have me cringing as I drink my A.M. java.

What are your morning coffee routines and temptations? And how does that relate to the fit of your favorite pair of classy black business pants? I’m all ears.