see as i saw

One year ago on this date, I walked away from predictable and comfortable for an unplanned period of time.  I've spent much of the past few weeks having those vivid reels of memory play through my mind.  Mostly I flash back to Costa Rica.  I relive scenery and conversations: glimpses of sunrise walks on the beach and rainforest canopies, soundbites of choppy Spanish conversation and Pacific waves.  It's an involuntary but unstoppable brain activity imbued with a sense of fondness and longing.

I've spent a lot of hours pondering 'happiness' - discussing, reading, thinking.  What I've come to conclude is that I can't think of happiness as an aggregate.  So what exactly does that mean?  There's no such thing as the perfect alignment of all circumstances and situations.  This isn't Pleasantville.  Life doesn't fit in a box.  If we expect to attain perfection across all of life's myriad segments (career, home, love, family, etc.) at once, then we've only set ourselves up for a fall.

Looking at it from another angle, we also can't expect to believe that a single decision we make right now will remain the unaltered solution in the long term.  By nature, our needs and ideals shift and change.  So you can't ask yourself, "What will make me happy forever?"  Odds are, there isn't an answer.  I'm no longer even willing to ask myself, "What will make me happy a year from now?".  Because, honestly, one year ago I wouldn't have had a clue about my life course in January 2013.  I actually didn't even want to have a clue.  And I'm remembering how that lack of pressure felt so freeing.

This doesn't mean I'm going to stop striving toward certain goals.  But much like my 2013 goal planning, allowing myself to shift focus if one goal feels out of sync, I want to keep my life decisions malleable.  I want happiness to mean that I'm content with what I'm doing in the present.  And if I'm not, that I'm exploring ways to redirect myself.  This could be as high level as a job or living situation, or as rudimentary as being bored on a Saturday afternoon.

One other thought, snagged from a blog that I follow, that keeps running through my head:

"I realised it was never about what I wanted to do, but about how I wanted to feel."

In the midst of a rain/snow, trekking down the sidewalk, head down, this texture caught my eye.  I got a few strange looks as I pulled out my phone and photographed the corner of a doorway multiple times.  Small price to pay for an "ooh!" moment in an otherwise cold and dreary atmosphere.

Despite no longer being beholden to daily posting, I couldn't seem to break the habit today.  There was sunlight, a rare winter occurrence.  Even though it was a balmy 25 degrees outside, I bundled up and spent as much quality time with my camera as possible...until my fingers went numb.  Then I stopped at Starbucks and had a hot chocolate.

Even though the scenery is mostly dreary and colorless, I made it my mission to somehow draw out visual interest with the textures, light and shadows.  I'm relatively pleased with my little mission, although there were quite a few duds in the camera roll.

Victory is mine!  The day-to-day account of a year in the life of my lens and my mind comes to a close.  Knowing that I actually fulfilled the old "you can do whatever you put your mind to" adage is motivating in looking forward to 2013.  So it's time to set some new benchmarks.  Based on my commentary from yesterday's post, regarding the over-exuberance in committing to new things, I'm approaching plans for next year in a slightly different manner.

Similar to goal-setting in a business environment, I'll have a couple overarching goals for the year.  But I'll think a little more short-term for the goals with more of a trial and error aspect - those will be revised quasi-quarterly.  (I say 'quasi' because the odds of me regrouping exactly on April 1 is unlikely.)  This will allow me to feel at ease in not taking on a million ideas at once, and also in assessing whether my Q1 attempts were worthwhile without feeling guilty for not following through all year long.  So it's more of a way to trick my own mind while also maintaining a semblance of organization.

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The overarching goals, as they stand today:

1. International Travel - At least two international excursions.  Those are tentatively set already: Ecuador in late May and Croatia in September.  If this quantity has room for increase, you'll find no complaints from me.  I'd be happy to overachieve on this one.

2. Keeping in Touch - I can admittedly be pretty bad at this.  I'm not the world's best phone talker.  I'd actually be better at keeping touch if we went back to the old pen pal method, pen and paper.  Or even email.  My communication style is better suited to writing, but that's not the general method that other people in my life employ.  But it's important to me that I do a better job of touching base with the important, yet distant, people in my life.

So there isn't an exact plan in place, but I need to sometimes suck up my lack of enthusiasm for phone calls and also consider other communication adaptations.  Cards, flowers, text messages.  It'll be different for the individual in question.  And where the option is feasible, finding time to visit is the best alternative of all.

3. Photography - This should go without saying.  I want to learn my camera so well that it feels like a native limb to my body, exploring function as well as composition and point of view.  Where infatuation already exists, I think there is an opportunity to develop this hobby into a real love affair.

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For the approximate timeframe of January through March, my trial and error goals include:

1. Exercise - The New Year's gold standard.  As soon as spring hits, I can't get enough of active outdoor pursuits.  A natural vigor for physical activity hits me.  When it's dark, cold and dreary - nothing.  Pushing buttons on my TV remote sounds like suitable aerobic activity.

So while I don't expect myself to be pushing five to seven days a week, I'd like to maintain at least a moderate level.  They say it's good for your mental sanity, which is actual more important for me in the winter than my physical state.  So a combo of yoga, perhaps once a week, and a couple pre- or post-work sessions in my basic basement gym will be the aim.

2. Spanish - I've loved the language since I was ten.  While most people couldn't wait to finish the obligatory two years of language required in high school, I took four.  Then I took two semesters in college, for fun.  When I visit Spanish-speaking countries, I have mixed emotions of love and fear.  I want to speak it, I love the way Spanish feels rolling off of my tongue, but I'm frustrated by my elementary capabilities.

Clearly that's all within my control.  I've looked at language classes and online instruction exhaustively, but it never feels like good value for my money.  That's because I've already been through all of those lessons.  What I really need is simple immersion.  Not having a Spanish-speaking friend, I need to seek one out.  So the mission is to find a conversation partner (after first determining a reputable source to do so) and begin working my way up to fluency.

Though this one is part of a lifelong mission, it falls into the trial and error goals, because I'm not sure if this method is the solution.  Perhaps I'll get started and realize that I do, in fact, need a structured course.  Or that I need to drop everything and move in with a family in rural Argentina.

3. Creative Outlets - This category will start out vague, because I'm not sure which ones will catch on.  Or maybe none of them will catch, but they'll all be valuable one-off experiences.  They say that engaging in other creative outlets helps feed the creativity for your true passion.  And who knows, maybe along the way I find another passion.  Or learn some important lessons about life, the world, myself.

So I'm going to push myself to try things that I've never done, while trying to quell the fear of not being good at them.  As a perfectionist, that's always part of the fear of new things.  "What if I'm horrible?"  My mind has often run away with itself, imagining the consequences in great, horrid detail.  It can rarely be as bad as all of that.  Thanks to services like Dabble, I'm going to keep the creative wheels turning and see what happens.

--

Three macro and micro goals apiece seems like a good starting point.  Especially since some of them are still a little vague in my head and not immediately executable.  They'll require some sifting, sorting and planning.  I feel good about starting 2013; it's difficult to believe what a different starting position I'm in from last year.

Last, but not least, thanks to anyone and everyone who kept my little project on their radar in 2012. Honestly, keeping it up would've been infinitely more difficult if I hadn't seen any views when I peaked at the stats.  Even one page view a day kept me compelled.  It'll actually be pretty cool some day in the future to look back on that one time I essentially chronicled a year of my life.  So thanks for keeping me on track.

In the next year, I'm not planning to disappear from cyberspace but the rules will be a little more lax.  Tentatively, the plan is at least one post a week.  The focus will probably be more photos and less text, but it'll really just depend on inspiration.  You may get five posts one week, a short novel one day, or a single snapshot in a week with only a title.  But I'll be around - and I hope you will too.

Happy New Year!

For every ounce of awesomeness, there is some measure of the not so amazing and things that fell through the cracks.  These are the places with potential to teach lessons and provide enlightenment.  So today is dedicated to a high-level retrospective of the things that could've gone better in the past year.

1. Hand in Too Many Jars - Although trial and error was a theme for 2012, the approach could've been better at times.  There was a tendency to put too many objectives in play at once, which pretty much set me up for immediate follow-through failure.

I wanted to practice my Spanish, learn how to code, and read the Randomhouse 32 "best" novels...all at once.  In addition to crafting, photographing, blogging, working out, cooking, and a multitude of other things that weren't yet regularities of my daily life.  Despite being jobless, thus having a lot of spare time, it was a little excessive.

2. "Best" is Subjective - Short follow-up to a point I made above.  I've always considered it a difficult task to give me a book that I dislike enough to not finish.  It may have taken three attempts, but I finally forced myself through Madame Bovary.  I also posited that I liked classic literature.  My Randomhouse experiment has, in part, disproved both theories.

I did actually complete all of the books that I started, but there was ample skim reading in some of the more obnoxiously long-winded and preachy texts.  And I feel quite assured that there are classic books, considered among the best literature has to offer, that I can't stand.  In the future, I'll take "best" with a grain of salt.

3. Losing Someone - There's nothing I could have done to change this one.  But it was definitely one of 2012's rougher patches.  And one of it's more thought-inducing - a lesson in appreciating the people in your life.  It's easy to get caught up in the immediate activity around you and lose track of the people outside of that radius.  My great aunt's passing helped to remind me that you don't want to wait until you know time is limited or gone.

4. There Is No Perfect Job - I've hoped, prayed, and looked for the perfect job.  Initially, my focus for Costa Rica was figuring out my perfect job.  Frankly, I thought about virtually everything besides employment.  Then I spent seven additional months in Chicago pondering this question, before accepting that perfect is unlikely even if you're unequivocally excited about what you do.

I suppose it's sort of like buying a house or finding a spouse.  They'll pretty much never tick all of the boxes on the dream list.  Once I accepted that, I was able to find a job that I felt proud to accept.  As long as I can find things to appreciate about the situation that I'm in, it's right at that moment.  I'm learning and growing, and there's nothing wrong with that.

--

That's 2012 in a nutshell, which leaves one more day.  One more blog.  And that final day of this year-long commitment will be looking forward.  Trying to sketch out a gameplan for 2013.

I've decided that my final days of this commitment will be a three-part series.  Today's mission, focus on what went right in 2012.

1. Costa Rica - Without a doubt, one of the most 'right' things that I've ever done in my life.  Committing to leaving unhappiness behind and expanding my personal horizons on a solo adventure in an amazing place.  There will be more Costa Rica in my future; it's in my blood.  It would take more entries than you'd be willing to read to expand upon all of the things that this decision taught me.

2. Trial and Error - I have a tendency to only try when I'm predominantly sure of an outcome.  At least that was my standard operating procedure in the past.  In 2012, I made it a point to say "yes" even when it made me nervous and to test drive the unknown.

By no means did I go to extremes, but I explored some of the notions that I've considered in the realm of independent employment.  Despite a lot of learnings and some unique experiences (i.e. Hoarders), the love wasn't there.  And you know what?  I don't regret trying, not a bit.

There were plenty of other trial categories that did stick: eggs, quinoa, yoga.  Sure, they don't seem earth-shattering, but to say that I've been picky most of my life is an understatement.

3. Slowing Down - It's no secret to me or anyone that knows me well, I'm very performance and expectation driven.  Without realizing it, I can work myself to excess.  Unfortunately it's easy for other people to take that as a cue to push you harder.  Then I take it up a notch...vicious cycle.

So even after I returned from my international adventure, I forced myself to wait.  Pressure mounted almost immediately upon my return - "So, are you applying for jobs yet?  What do you want to do?"  I knew I wasn't ready, but it took a lot of effort to wait until I was.  Ultimately I felt a lot better about my decision, having held out until I was bored of relaxing.

4. Investing in Passion - My trip to Costa Rica was technically an investment.  An investment in my happiness and sanity.  I could've just quit my job, stayed in Chicago for that month, and saved a little bit.  But it wouldn't have had nearly the same effect.  My other great investment has been in photography.  Yes, the recent acquisition of my dSLR was a monetary investment.  But I've also invested a lot of time and effort.

As of today, I've spent 364 days finding photo ops to funnel into this digital channel of communication.  Beyond that, I've invested time into researching dSLR cameras and, now that I have one, reading tutorials, tips, and tricks.  Part of it could be that I'm stubborn and refused to not follow through.  But a larger, and more important, part was realizing that even on the days when I drag my feet and have no motivation - I'm ultimately happy with the result.  Even when I know that it's not my best photo, I know that I learned something merely through taking a bad photo.

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If I wanted to drill down to specifics, I'm sure there are many other things that went right.  But for the sake of some brevity, I'll stick with the major themes that seemed obvious to me.

By the nature of my job duties, I sift through inordinate amounts of internet content.  Even if I don't stop to read full articles, every day is a veritable Cliff's Notes of news, informative articles and pop culture.

This prologue has a point.

Today I learned about the revival of the original Herbal Essences.  The kind with a scent that could somewhat rightfully claim the herbal title.  I was a loyal purchaser, turned detractor when they changed up the whole product line.  Thanks to dying market share, they're looking for people like me and hoping we'll come traipsing back to their shelves for a revival.

Well, they may win, sort of.  At least in the short term.  I will, in fact, purchase their product again - thanks in part to my prior affinity, as well as a marketable decision to make the products sulfate-free.  There will be no total buy-in until a test period has concluded, though.  Plus, they have to overcome the fact that I'm quite happy with my Aussie conditioner.

Word on the street also suggests that you'll see at least one new adaptation of those shower scene commercials around the Grammy awards.  (I may be seriously grasping at straws for blog topics now. Hair products...really? Oh well.)

Clearly most of the world is still on holiday.  I was the sole passenger on my bus for at least a half dozen stops.  The phone didn't ring once.  My inbox rarely required checking.  Half of me wanted to shut down the computer and find my way home, plop mindlessly on the couch.  But there was that list of necessary, yet tediously time-consuming, tasks.  The list that constantly gets de-prioritized.  So I prepped, sorted, organized, and any number of like tasks...accompanied by a box of chocolates, courtesy of the building.

Here's the good news: it's a two-day workweek, followed by a four-day weekend.  Somehow my week off for Christmas hardly registered on my rest and relaxation radar.  Somewhere along the way in life, it became difficult to sleep soundly outside of the comfort of my own abode.  I wonder if that would still be the case if my parents lived in my childhood home?

On an unrelated note, this nightly task is so quickly coming to a close.  As much as I appreciate that people continue to look/read, I'm ready to step back from the daily frequency and revamp my mission for 2013.

This year's Christmas gifts to my parental units were experiential.  At the end of the day, spending time together engaged in a jointly agreeable activity seemed more meaningful than any material item that I could buy them.  And my hypothesis was proven correct; I'm not sure that my parents have ever thanked me so effusively for their gifts.

While mom and I had pre-Christmas day theater date at the Nutcracker, dad and I had a post-Christmas day theater date at Lincoln.  I suppose it was a theater kind of year, although it's safe to say they were vastly different environments.

Despite knowing the plot line and how Lincoln would end, thanks to all of the U.S. history classes of my youth, I found myself quite enmeshed in the story and the details.  Part of my time was spent mulling over whether Abe was an introvert, because that's been a theme piquing my interest during the past few months.  Then, of course, I wondered about the amount of historical accuracy.  Given that it was a Spielberg film, I hoped it was fictionalized only as much as necessary to fill in holes (and obviously there's always a bit of dramatic flair).

After sifting through a few articles where Lincoln/Civil War-era historians weigh in, it seems as though the script stuck pretty close to reality along the way.  And the details that were fabricated or amped up were not of a variety that it made the story misleading.  On top of that, I do believe that Mr. Spielberg made a film that Americans may watch without bemoaning how boring history is.

There are no children in my immediate family anymore - all of my parents' offspring exceed the age of 24.  Yet my presents still inexplicably come from Santa.  Maybe one day I'll be a parent and still have the urge to carry on the tradition past its logical stopping point.  But seeing as I busted the Santa myth around the age of six (mom didn't think I'd make the logical leap when I saw her buy a present for my brother which he later opened from Santa), perhaps ability to play along has been skewed.

Extended family gatherings have morphed in the past year or two, with most of my cousins hitting the college age.  There's not really playing and high-octane activity anymore, but an easygoing circle of conversation and banter.  There are some clear differences as you span our ten-year age gap (I am now familiar with a pointless and apparently popular app called Snap Chat), but there's also a foundation for real conversation.

There is nothing that better describes the rhythm of my day than this plate of cookies. Eat, drink. Eat some more, have another drink. Not hungry, but I think I'll eat.

Admittedly there was a single hour this morning, before the holiday system got a hold on me, where I went to the gym. That effort was likely nullified by a single bite. My willpower remains meaningless for one more day; then I'll consider tending to my body's true nutritional needs again.

Luckily Santa doesn't come to my house anymore.  There wouldn't be any cookies left to feed him.  I think I saw some baby carrots in the fridge though; those are fair game.

The first day of Christmas is (nearly) over.  And it has already been an exhausting festival of family and food.  I have been eyeballing the clock for at least two hours, wondering when it's acceptable to fall asleep without the nasty side effect of being wide awake at 4:00am.

Remember how I said that leaving my routine made blogging a bit of a daily afterthought?  Well, ironically my eagerness and inspiration to photograph increase when environs change.  Even if I go somewhere that I've been plenty of times before, I don't spend every day sitting or walking by it.  So when I stepped into my parents house this afternoon, the plethora of Christmas decorations felt like novel stimuli.

Tonight, as I experienced two very disparate examples of talented and passionate people, I found myself thinking (not for the first time) that I wish I had such an outlet.  One of those performances was the Grand Rapids Ballet Company's Nutcracker.  A group of dancers spanning from children to adults, with an amazing ability to express beauty and strength through their body's movements.  And a passion great enough to make the demanding workload worthwhile.

The second act was my own brother.  A kid who always walked to the beat of his own drum (literally and figuratively, although thankfully he retired from drums and stuck with guitar).  He performs in front of rooms full of people, confident in his craft.  It's not only because he's good, really good, but because he has put himself so wholly into every note that leaves his instrument.  I can see that seven hours hunkered down with a guitar, practicing and writing music, isn't work.  It's a justifiable reason to forgo sleep.

I want to be inspired by something in that way.  To be so firmly grasped by an excitement and a need that even the work feels like part of the joy.  I think that trying to translate life, as filtered from my vantage put and pushed through a lens, is the closest I've come to that spark.  Even if my photos don't end up being meaningful to anyone but me, I'd still consider it a worthwhile venture.

(I suppose that technically I saw three performances tonight.  You're looking at a photo of the lower half of a folk/hipster ensemble worn by one third of a local bluegrass trio.)

My focus on daily blogging is already proving to be a challenge over the holidays, the final stretch of my commitment.  There are too many distractions and no routine.  It turns out that this blog is one of first things to fall off of my radar when routine is broken.

So what have I been doing with myself that's more important than writing about it?  Spending quality time with my best friend, her pups, and exercising our old lady affinity with crafting projects.

Despite the fact that the dogs are bed hogs, there's something comforting about having them want to be right next to you.  Waking up with a warm little dog body curled up in the crook of your legs makes it difficult to actually get out of bed though.  And it makes me want to do what I know I can't and shouldn't do - have a puppy.

If I didn't live in such urban housing, with a job/life that consistently keeps me away from home for twelve hours, and a penchant for long international jaunts...maybe I'd have less resistance.  Until the day comes where there are a few more items in the pro column than reside in the cons, I'll live vicariously through my role as dog 'aunt'.

Sometimes the West Coast and the Windy City intersect in the Great Lakes state.  Not in an actual shifting of tectonic plates kind of way, but in a meeting of old friends.  It's crazy and amazing to think that there are some people who walk into your life and, despite thousands of miles and multiple years of separation, your friendship remains unbreakable.

Those are the people that you want more of in your life.  Or at least I do.  Although I'd love for my amazing long-distance friends to permanently congregate in my city, I know that's not really how it works.  So instead I appreciate that our distance has allowed me to realize the strength of our bonds and how important it is to cherish them.

That's all.  Short and sweet tonight.

After a long, tense week there's one way to lighten the strain.  NSYNC Home for Christmas.  Belting it out as I make my way up three hours worth of highway, ironically, to go home for Christmas.

Did anyone else have a holiday concert when they were in elementary school (or perhaps you called it grade school)?  For some reason I thought of that today.  Perhaps it was the NSYNC tunes, despite the fact that none of those would've been featured in our musical program.

Each grade was assigned the same song year after year, and there was a perceived escalation of the songs' cool factor until you reached the pinnacle in fifth grade.  The only year I'm drawing a blank on is first grade, but something makes me want to say that was Jingle Bells.  Kindergarteners sang All I Want For Christmas is My Two Front Teeth, for obvious reasons.  And second graders were unenthusiastically stuck with Deck the Halls.

Things started to get fun in third grade; not only was there singing, but choreography as well.  You'd be amazed at how much fun Up on the Housetop can be when you're eight years old.  You may also be amazed at how long you can retain such choreography (twenty years and counting).  And in fourth grade, we were given permission to sing both version of Rudolph.  After singing it properly, we were allowed to amuse ourselves by throwing in nonsense ad libs - "Like George Washington!"

But the pinnacle, the culmination of an elementary school singing career, was the fifth grade performance of Jingle Bell Rock.  You got to wear sunglasses.  Indoors.  At night.  We prepared for the  moment in December when the classes would unite to rehearse...and then the bomb was dropped.  Fifth graders were being relegated to Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree.  Let the uprising begin.  I don't actual recall how we boycotted or argued or whined about this, but the mandate was reversed and we became the final class to sing Jingle Bell Rock.

Every year ended with the whole school singing Silent Night, with the lights dimmed, while the fifth graders lined the aisles with battery-powered candles.  Now that my life no longer contains an annual holiday concert, I've moved on to an annual trip down NSYNC holiday memory lane.

As a kid, I recall my parents pretty consistently tuning into the evening or prime time local news.  Do I remember the contents of the newscasts?  Not particularly.  What I do know is that, at the age of 28, I often have a difficult time working the local TV news into my agenda, because it tends to feel more depressing than it does informative.

From a psychology standpoint, I suppose I understand that their mission is to focus on the juicier and more sensational bits.  In general, that's what draws people in.  It just causes me to wonder if there happen to be good things occurring in our society.

For example, in the first five minutes of a local newscast tonight, here's what they told me about.

1. Bank robbers escaping from a downtown Chicago prison, with a focus on how the trail has gone cold in the search
2. The death of a NIU freshman at the hands of fraternity hazing
3. A Chicago fire that is now looking suspiciously like a murder

We went on to talk about less sensational topics for a minute, although still in a dramatic tone (CTA fare hikes, blizzard-like conditions), before moving back to Newtown and the NRA's response to all of the talk about gun control.  Revert to sports news: the Bears have another injury, Joaquin Noah is leaving his wild ways behind, so on and so forth.

Finally, thirty minutes in, for the final story of the newscast, we were graced with a blip about how a tweet from Ann Curry is causing random acts of kindness.  I'm not sure if we even glossed over the topic for 30 seconds before the newscast was over.

There's constant debates about how newsworthy, factual or accurate our news actually is - I'm not getting into that argument.  This isn't about agenda-setting and persuasion.  This is about how I'd love to see the lead story on my local news sway a little more positive and a little less homicide and arson.  At least once in a while.

I'm not sure who the target demographic is for Scrabble Cheez-Its, but they got me.  I don't generally buy these addictive crackers anymore, due to that very issue - I can't stop eating them.  Once upon a time though, in high school, it wasn't uncommon for a certain best friend and I to keep boxes of them in our cars.

Besides playing with my food, I managed to fit in beyond a full day of work, finish my handmade Christmas cards, and begin the process of holiday packing.  Since the Midwest is sitting in weather purgatory, and my apparel needs during the week will run the gamut from yoga pants to dresses, it feels like I'll be bringing my entire apartment home.  That's after an effort to pack minimalistically.  I loathe multiple elevator trips to the car; I consider it an indication that I'm bringing too much.

In the midst of all of this, I have still neglected to purchase Christmas gifts for my siblings.  I would be more concerned about this, except I didn't deliver my brother's gift last year until February.  Maybe I could just buy them Scrabble Cheez-Its and challenge them to a word game.  It's competitive and edible.

Betty Crocker, that is.  I'm not a frequent chef.  My toolset is limited, my skills are elementary.  But sometimes I even impress myself.  Please excuse me while I pat myself on the back for a snickerdoodle job well done.

When I was younger and my mom would try to urge me to help her in the kitchen, it just felt like a chore.  She viewed it as a learning experience, I considered it coercion.  Needless to say, I didn't learn much.  When I went to college, I was fully capable of fending for myself, but it took awhile to outgrow meals bought in bags from the freezer section.  Oh, and that strange instant mashed potatoes stage that I went through.

Over time I started to try my hand at cooking and baking.  Cakes, brownies, chili, a lot of Tex-Mex foods.  I realized that in the right mind frame, not only was I capable of kitchen creations, but I could actually enjoy the process.  It's akin to a science experiment, only you can eat it in the end.  Now I've graduated on to playing with various spices and adding my own ingredients on the fly.  Although I won't pretend to be a seasoned or innovative chef, I'm starting to feel a little comfortable in the kitchen.

Starting today, though, I'm working with a bachelor's fridge.  You know, the empty kind.  Besides snickerdoodles, you won't find much else besides eggs, bread and milk.  I'm heading home for a week of holiday time on Wednesday night, so there will be no more culinary adventures in my kitchen for awhile.  Maybe that's something to build into my 2013 life plan, once I free up some hours each week from photos and blogging.

I'm not sure that I'd call my weekend eventful thus far, but I've managed to keep myself occupied despite the cold rain.  I've been having an internal debate as to whether I have to keep resetting my wireless connection because my modem or my router is bugging out.  Power cycling your modem a half dozen times each day tends to take up a good amount of time.

I'd probably rather not admit the number of Lifetime Original holiday movies that I've watched.  Last night was a revival of several actors my age that had their main glory in the early 2000s.  Tonight I was surprised to find my childhood babysitter's little brother in the lead role.  You can't turn off a movie starring someone from your hometown.

Then there's that whole concept of Christmas shopping.  My list isn't extensive, and it's half done, but it seems that I'm stumped by the prospect of buying for my brothers.  Mom and Dad are already well-aware of the experiential gifts that I'll be treating them to.

I think gift buying would be easier if you just did it on any given day that you saw something fitting or inspired.  Forcing it to occur all in one fell swoop, on a particular day, is stressful.  Especially when I'm loathe to actually visit a bricks and mortar store and engage in the insanity.  If I hadn't procrastinated, I suppose online shopping would've been a spectacular alternative.