24. One time when I feel like crying, don't; dance instead. Crazy dance.

I can't even put into words how excited I am for the weekend. Ok, yes I can. It's the same excitement I would have if John Krasinski showed up at my door in a tux with a bouquet of yellow roses, told me he was newly single, wanted to marry me, and that he was taking me on a month long trip to Paris. Or if Ria showed up on my doorstep. Or if I got cast in Catching Fire. Or...
Anyway, it's not like anything particularly bad happened this week. Actually, it was a pretty decent week. I got to spend Sunday with my family for my mom's birthday, I didn't have to teach a summer camp, I got to see my friend, Ross, who I haven't seen in almost a year, I got my new green apple TOMS in the mail, and I discovered that Breyer's makes a chocolate ice cream with peanut butter in it AND Reese's. Score. But despite that, I was feeling really overwhelmed at the beginning of the week, particularly on Tuesday. Again, no real reason. Just having one of those days. By the time I got home from work, I had mentally checked out for the day. At 8:00, I had my weekly Skype date with my friend, Danielle. We started talking about my 25 things and she asked what I had left. I went down the list, pausing after 24 to joke that she was distracting me from having to do my crazy dance. She laughed and so did I...little did I know, I wouldn't be distracted for long. We finished talking and I found myself in a much better mood until IT happened. I went into the kitchen to feed Stella and Charlee. It was dark. I turned on the light to find a "Davis bug" on the wall. For those of you who never had the pleasure of living in the 100+ year old Davis Hall I spent three years in, this is a Davis bug (yes, it's so gross I couldn't even post a picture):

http://www.ca.uky.edu/entomology/entfacts/images/hsepede.jpg

Except mine was about three inches long...no joke. As I said, I lived in Davis for three years so I've had plenty of experience with these bugs, who seemed to seek me out. One night, I was getting ready to go to sleep and one fell on my bed. I made one of my friends come down to my room and sit in the corner with me until the bug emerged so she could kill it...which happened two hours later. (Thanks again, Allissa.) Anyway, my first instinct upon seeing it in my kitchen was to scream like I was in a Saw movie. Repeatedly. Like six or seven times. I wish I was kidding. My next genius idea was to shimmy past it into my mudroom, pick up a flip flop and hurl it at the wall. In true Steph fashion, I missed and screamed some more. By this point, I'm pretty sure Stella and Charlee were hiding under the bed, I'd woken up the whole neighborhood, and scared away every bug in a ten mile radius. At least my screams were good for something. I picked up my flip flop, took a deep breath, and beat the shit out of that bug. Seriously. Legs flying everywhere. I had to wash everything on the counter. I was still screaming, although there was no need since the bug had been reduced to a brownish streak on the wall. I got out my Clorox wipes and began wiping down every surface in the kitchen and my flip flop, which I considered throwing away. As I was wiping bug juice off the floor, my eyes started to burn and I knew I was going to lose it. The bug was my Oregon Trail. I'd successfully forded the river, but managed to die of dysentary. Crap.

I knew what I needed to do. I finished wiping up and turned on my CD player. I had a random mix in there from when I moved in so I turned it on and began flipping through the tracks. I stopped at "Boyfriend" by J. Biebs. (Yes, I own that song...for work purposes, of course...) I started to shuffle around the room, but I wasn't in the mood to chill by the fire and eat fondue. Thanks, but no thanks, Biebs. The next song I stopped on was "Somebody That I Used to Know" (dedicated to you, you effing nasty bug). Pass. I finally settled on a song from my Bahrain trip. I slowly began to dance around my kitchen...just some low key stuff. But when I got to the chorus, I broke free. Have you ever seen the episode of "Friends" when Phoebe and Rachel going running together, and Phoebe's run is so embarassing that Rachel lies so she doesn't have to run with her? Well, that was me, in dance form. I was flailing and booty shaking and doing everything I tell my students NOT to do. For three whole minutes, I danced like I did when I was little. When the song ended, another one came on and I kept going. I was sweaty and out of breath, but I pony galloped around the kitchen, waving my arms dangerously close to the fan. At one point, I stopped, looked at the wall where the bug had been, and said out loud, "This is MY house, bitch." And then the dancing continued...for two more songs.  I collapsed on my couch after a rousing rendition of "Houdini" by Foster the People, which included some of my own made-up lyrics. I smiled to myself and thought, "it worked. I feel so much better."

...Unfortunately, that lasted about two minutes, until I really did start crying and had to text Ria, who listened patiently instead of telling me I was an idiot, which I was. Once I finally calmed down, I went to bed, thinking about how the dancing had failed me. I had tried something on the list and it didn't work. And then it hit me...it wasn't about whether it worked or not. It was about the experience. Remember my failed pizza attempt? So what if  the pizza ended up a burnt, inedible pile of nasty? I still made it myself, didn't I? And despite it "working" or not, I danced my ass off in the most crazy fashion I could think of and for those six minutes, I felt better.

15. Go to the Farmer's Market and buy flowers

I'm experiencing my first thunderstorm in the new house...and I'm loving it. I know this makes me weird, but I love thunderstorms and I love the rain, especially when I get to stay inside all day. When Ria lived in the QC, we would call these our "Panera Soup" days. We'd go eat at Panera and then spend the rest of the day curled up under a million blankets, watching movies or Lost or Friends. We'd talk about stupid, girly things and paint our nails. It was the best!  Now before I get all sad and mushy, I DID talk to Ria on the phone for an hour this morning, so that counts for something. I'm curled up under a blanket with a kitty watching Crazy Stupid Love and drooling uncontrollably over Ryan Gosling and his abs. Oh, and I'm planning to go to bed early. I'd call that a successful Panera Soup day.

It hasn't been raining all day. There was a break this morning, so my friend, Elizabeth, and I went down to the Farmer's Market. I haven't gone since last summer so I was really excited...oh, and it meant I got to cross yet another thing off my list! I love fresh flowers, but I rarely keep them in the house because:
a) I don't usually buy flowers for myself
b) I have trouble keeping plants/flowers alive
c) Stella LOVES flowers. Like in a weird way. She really likes to smell them (seriously), but occasionally, she'll try to take a bite out of one.

Last summer, there was a guy who sold beautiful sunflowers, so I was planning to buy my flowers from him, but he wasn't there. So we walked around for about 20 minutes, looking at vegetables, lawn ornaments, and fudge (there goes the uncontrollable drooling again...abs and fudge...mmm) I finally decided to go back to one of the first flower booths I had seen and bought myself a small bouquet.

Stella insisted on smelling them, of course, but I put them up high. Hopefully I can keep them alive for more than a few days. :)

6. Getting down to a size 6 with...Buffalo Chicken Chili

It's been one of those weeks. One of those "so tired I can't cook, clean or do anything besides lay on the couch" weeks. You know what I'm talking about. We just started our summer schedule at work, so for the next eight weeks, I'm teaching summer camps. I don't mind teaching summer camp, but for some reason, it's drained every ounce of my energy this week. Combine that with the fact that I haven't fully recovered from moving and recital, and you've got the laziest person on the face of the planet.

The highlight of my week has been my dancers coming to visit us at work! This is the first summer they've come in just to say hi and visit with us. And they've been bringing food! (Clearly, they know the way to my heart...) Tuesday, we got homemade chocolate chip cookies and today, cheese pizza. Perfection. I could get used to this...except for that wee little thing I've come to call "Ria's list." Oops...

I've made this recipe twice in the last five days because it's easy, delicious, and it counterbalances the treats at work.  I've been searching unsuccessfully for a chili recipe for an insanely long time. When I found this, I was giddy. Chili AND buffalo chicken? Pure heaven. Oh, and it's really healthy. Score.
I've altered this recipe from the blog I found it on to fit my needs. (I cut down on the amount it makes and took out the yucky tomatoes...bleh.) 

Buffalo Chicken Chili

Makes 4 servings

Ingredients

olive oil

one medium white onion, diced

3 cloves of garlic, minced

3 carrots, diced

1 can of cannellini beans, drained

Put about a tablespoon of olive oil in a deep skillet and heat.  Add onion and garlic; cook until translucent and fragrant.  Add the carrots; cook until soft. Add beans and mix well.

1 lb. ground chicken

1/2 tbsp cumin

1 tbsp paprika

1 cup chicken broth

1 cup Frank's buffalo sauce

While the veggies are cooking, saute chicken in another pot.  Add cumin, paprika, and chicken broth and cook until meat is cooking through. Do not drain!

Add chicken mixture to vegetable mixture and stir.  Stir in buffalo sauce and bring to a boil.*If you like more sauce in your chili, feel free to add more broth and buffalo sauce. Just keep the ratio 1:1.* Reduce heat and simmer over medium-low heat for 30-40 minutes. Serve with your favorite chili toppings or blue cheese. I like to use cheddar cheese and Saltines.

Now, I need to warn you. I have a big weekend planned and if I do everything I'm planning to, I may be writing two or even THREE blogs with NEW things to cross off my list. Yes, you heard that right. Get excited, people! 

The One with the Updates

It's Britney, bitch. And I'm back, after my three week move-across-town hiatus. In honor of me turning 25 1/4 next week, I decided to check and see how terribly I was failing at my list. Shockingly, I'm on track! Me, the expert procrastinator! I have 4 things crossed off the list, and am making progress on 2. If I keep this up, I'm actually going to do everything on my list. Yay!  Even though I haven't crossed anything new off my list, I did have some exciting things I wanted to share.

1. Close on a house

There it is! That's my new house! Isn't it so cute? So, I've officially been living here for two weeks and after some initial nervousness about having this house all to myself (which made me believe I wanted to move back into my small apartment...forever), I'm finally getting used to it. At first, I felt like I was house-sitting with no hope of ever going home, but that feeling is starting to go away. I've been unpacking like a mad woman this weekend and putting things on the wall so it feels more like MY house. Or rather, my home. I haven't actually called it that yet, so I'm hoping I will soon. Too much commitment right now. :)  Stella and Charlee are adjusting too. After several days of sporadic eating and hiding under the bed, they've made themselves very much at home.

6. Getting down to a size 6

The bad thing about moving? I've been eating like crap. Total, utter crap. I've eaten pizza three times and been to Whitey's twice in the past week. Yikes. And yet, I'm somehow slimming down. I've noticed a small difference lately, mostly in the way my clothes fit, but I figured my recent eating habits probably ruined any progress I've made. So, here's what happened: my friend, Bryan, and I were having a dinner and a movie night and we finished dinner early. We decided to wander around Old Navy to kill time (always a bad, terrible choice) and I, of course, found a pair of shorts that I NEEDED. Except, I actually did need these shorts, because I haven't bought myself shorts in three years. Seriously. I haven't even worn shorts in two because I didn't feel like showing off my white, pasty, ghost legs to the world. But on Thursday, it seemed like a good idea. So I picked out a pair of shorts in a size 8 and started to head to the dressing room when I turned back and snatched up a size 6. Why the hell shouldn't I try a size 6? I closed the dressing room door, took a deep breath and stepped into the shorts. They made it past my knees (always a good sign), over my butt, and...they were on! I got them on! After doing a small victory dance, I buttoned and zipped them...and I could still breathe! Woot! Of course, I couldn't actually walk or sit in them, but hey, I'm all for small victories.

8. Let my job just be "my job"

Let's be honest here...I'm sucking at this one. To be fair, it's been a pretty busy couple of weeks. My preschoolers graduated at the end of May and we had our dance production last weekend, meaning I was eating, sleeping, and dreaming my show. It turned out to be my best one yet, so I guess me being proud outweighs anything else. Our summer schedule starts on Monday, so I'll be teaching summer camps and working on the exhibit floor for the next 8 weeks. I'm hoping once I fall into my rhythm, work will stay at work, and I'll stop checking my work email at home. :)

7. Write a blog

Well, I think this one is turning out pretty well. I've been blogging for less than 3 months with over 500 views, so I'd say that's a pretty effing huge accomplishment. I'm honestly overwhelmed by how many people have told me they love reading this! So, thank you to each and every one of you. I love comments and feedback so keep them coming, and I'll try to keep things interesting.

1. Close on a house-CHECK!

So I did it, people. I closed on my first house this past Friday.  It was a great day.  I closed, treated myself to an iced vanilla chai from Starbucks, went to work wearing a cute dress (which NEVER happens), got to rock my new Betsey Johnson glasses all day, took a short break from the awesome to ball my eyes out over Grey's Anatomy (it still hurts...), and finished the evening with a trip to Olive Garden and my first-ever time at Dueling Pianos. Where they played my song request. Yeeeeeeeeeeah.  I went to bed thinking, "life as a homeowner is the BEST!"

...And then day 2 happened. I swore I would not blog about this, but I guess after a good night's sleep, I find things more humorous.  I learned several things about being a homeowner yesterday...

1. My standard of cleanliness is much higher than most people's.
When we did the walk-through on Thursday, I was surprised to find that the sellers had packed very little. Like, their living room was in tact, minus some pictures on the wall. Oh, and their bedroom.  Oh, and the guest bedroom and kitchen. I was freaking out. When we were negotiating, they had asked for a 24 hour window after the closing to finish moving out. I was worried it was going to go beyond that.  But, they were surprisingly on schedule, so yesterday afternoon, I packed up my car and drove over to the house. Now, I will say, it could have been a hell of a lot worse. (Which, ironically, turned out to be the theme of the day.) But at the end of the day, toe nail clippings in a drawer are still toe nail clippings in a drawer. So. Effing. Nasty.

2. My parents are cleaning superheroes.
Seriously. They showed up about 20 minutes after me and zoomed through the house like a tornado.  Together, they managed to scrub down almost the entire kitchen, shampoo all the carpet, steam all the hardwood floors, and then go back through and scrub the floors.

3. Getting locked out SUCKS.
After about three hours of cleaning, we decided to all run to the store to get more supplies and to get a lawnmower. As I was getting into the car, I remembered I'd left my sunglasses inside, so I ran to the back door to open it...and my key didn't work.  "No worries," I thought, "I'll just open the front door."  So, I put the key in the handle, turned it, and...it wouldn't open. I put the key in the deadbolt and it wouldn't turn. Eff. So, as it turns out, you need about four keys to get into the house. I had one...and the rest were sitting inside in the kitchen.  The first plan was to call a locksmith.  I think my parents called about 10 between the 2 of them, but apparently, 5pm on a Saturday doesn't qualify as "24/7" because no one answered.  Next, I texted the sellers to ask if perhaps they kept a set of keys or had a key hidden somewhere. Nope.  So, I resorted to texting friends to see if anyone had any lock-picking skills I was unaware of.  No again.  My friends, Elizabeth and Tyler, offered to stop by to help.  At this point, I was tired, sweaty, really hungry, and suggesting throwing the charcoal grill through a window, so I was welcoming any and all help.  Long story short, my dad remembered he hadn't locked my bedroom windows when he had been cleaning. My bedroom's on the 2nd floor. My dad, being the determined, stubborn dude he is, walked the neighborhood in search of a ladder, which he borrowed, used to scale my house, push open the window, and crawl inside.  Sigh.  I guess there'd be no grill-throwing after all.

4. I have zero upper-body strength.
After all the shenanigans, my dad went out and got a lawnmower and made me prove that I could mow the lawn myself.  I have mowed the lawn before, but I was in 6th grade and my dad had a broken elbow so I did it for him.  Oddly enough, I do enjoy mowing grass so I was actually looking forward to it. That is, until I had to tackle the front yard. My front yard is on a slope...no, not a slope.  An 85 degree angle of death. My dad did one side of the slope for me and then came my moment of truth. He suggested I start at the bottom and push the mower up...so I tried. And it of course, went nowhere.  "Use your lower body." Dad said.  So, I try...and nothing happens. I also managed to shut off the mower, which I was unable to turn back on. Again, because, I apparently have no upper body strength. I think my dad felt bad for me, because he restarted the mower and said, "why don't I just finish this up?" Great. I think I've figured out how I'll meet my future husband. He'll be the first dude who sees my pathetic attempts at starting my lawnmower and we'll marry out of guilt.

So there you go. Days one and two of being a homeowner.  I was so caught up in the crazy that I didn't even take pictures. Oh well, maybe today.

12. Buy someone random a completely anonymous coffee

I need to start by apologizing for two things.

1. For anything that is terribly mispelled in this post. I had my eyes dilated an hour ago (which figures into my story below) and have to wear sunglasses to look at my computer screen. Eek!

2. For being totally MIA for the past two weeks. Since the pizza incident, I've been busy with house things (I close next week! Yay!) and getting ready for all the exciting end of the year things at work.

But then, today happened.  As glorious as Fridays are, today was even better because...I didn't have to work! Yay! I slept in, watched last night's Grey's Anatomy (holy eff!), and lounged around all morning, being a giant waste of space.  After lunch, I went out and got my hair cut for the first time in almost 9 months and dyed it burgundy.  On the way home, I decided to swing by the store to pick up groceries and another box of contacts, and then I planned to take full advantage of Frappucino Happy Hour at Starbucks. Turns out, my eye prescription wasn't up to date (boo!), so before I knew it, I was having my eyes checked, dilated, and I may or may not have ordered the most adorable Betsey Johnson glasses on the face of the planet. When I got to my car, I realized I had 10 minutes to haul ass to the nearest Starbucks, so I did.  Sitting in the drive-thru, I thought that today would be a good day to share the love and to cross another thing off my list.  As luck would have it, there was no one in the drive-thru lane with me.  Damn.  I ordered my drink and slowly pulled around to pay.  And that's when it happened.

As I rummaged through my wallet for my Starbucks card, a black Ford Escape pulled up behind me.  Bingo. I did a quick check to make sure there was only one person in the car because, let's face it, I AM buying a house next week and as much as I'd like to buy coffee for the entire Brady Bunch, the timing wasn't the best.  One guy.  Awesome.  The dewey-eyed barista opened the window to give me my total.  I handed him my card and said, "I'd like to pay for the car behind me, too."  He gets this big smile on his face and says "ok!!!"  A minute later, he pokes his head out the window again to inform me my Starbucks card won't cover the full amount. "Oh shit..." I think to myself. "Pa Brady probably took drink orders at home." I smile and say, "That's ok...how much do I owe?"  $1.81. Ok. That I can do. Dewey B. hands me back my card, the receipts, and my drink. I thank him and am about to drive away when I quickly turn back.  "Hey, that guy doesn't know me, but will you tell him to have a really nice day?" Dewey B. smiles his eager smile again and says sure.  I drive away happy. 

I can't even describe how great it felt to be able to do that for someone else.  Seriously, if I had the means, I'd do it all the time.  But since I don't, I'll feel good today knowing that somewhere, some guy is enjoying his Venti Decaf Caramel Macchiato, Bacon Artisan Breakfast Sandwich and Kid's Size Milk with a pump of vanilla. (Hey, I don't judge.)

21. Make pizza from scratch (take one...)

Today has been my favorite kind of day. Cold, cloudy, rainy...and I have nowhere to go. Awesome. After laying in bed until 10, I spent the rest of the morning and afternoon in my PJs, watching Friends, and doing some light packing for the house. Sundays are always my relaxing days and since I usually don't have much going on, I always make something fun for dinner that can last me a few days. (Mmm...leftovers.) Today I decided, pizza.

I love pizza. In a crazy, unhealthy, could eat it everyday kind of way. And I love every kind of pizza, including those crappy little Totino's Party Pizzas. (My mouth is drooling as we speak.) But somehow, in all my pizza glory, I've never made one completely from scratch. Why? Mostly because I don't have the patience to wait that long for a pizza, but I also was afraid I'd do something terribly wrong that would cause me to turn against my beloved pizza forever. But Ria put it on the list, and thus, sealed my fate.

I had originally planned to save this one for a quiet night at the new house, but I found myself with a bunch of fresh mozzarella from a different recipe, and thought, why not? So I hunted down an easy, fool-proof recipe for both the crust and sauce, got my groceries, and prepared myself for pizza making.

I got both my crust and sauce recipe from What's Megan Making?, a new cooking blog I've started to follow. I was nervous about the crust, since I've never made one before but the dough was easy to make. (Look how pretty!) It also made enough for two crusts, so I put one ball in the freezer for next weekend. The sauce was easy too! I was very skeptical about making my own sauce, because I'm very picky when it comes to pizza sauces, but this is probably the best sauce I've ever tasted. Seriously, I was eating it out of the bowl by itself. Yum! It also made a lot more than I needed so I guess I'll just have to find some use for it this week... :)

That's when everything started to go downhill. The recipe I was using called for the oven to be heated to 500 degrees, which naturally made my smoke detector go off 3 times and scared the crap out of Stella and Charlee. Everytime I'd get my crust shaped, it would go off again, and by the time I got back, it had shrunken down to a mini pizza. Finally, I got my crust shaped, my pizza topped with mozzarella, basil, garlic and red pepper flakes, and was ready to make the transfer from my floured cutting board to my pizza stone which had been heating in the oven. I went to make the move...





...And my pizza was stuck. I guess with all the reshaping of my crust, my well-floured surface wasn't so floured anymore. I used my hands, a spatula, tilting the board...nothing worked. What I probably needed was about 5 more hands, but since that wasn't an option, I gave the spatula a try one more time. Somehow, I managed to move the entire pizza over, but not before it's contents slid around and my crust crumpled into a pile. Giant sigh. I put the pizza in the oven and waited impatiently to see how the world's ugliest pizza tasted.

There she is. My poor, sad pizza. I have to say, despite appearances, it was really good! And, I got to cross something off my list! Now that I've learned a thing or two, I think I'll give this pizza making thing another try soon...but with more flour. Keep your fingers crossed!