Perplexingly, but Utterly, Happy

One again I have a confession to make to you, my friends of the internet.

It's something that has been weighing on my mind.

I just have to get it off my chest.

I am 100%, undeniably, happy with every aspect of my life.

There. I said it. I'm crazytown happy and in love with life.

Wait. WAIT. Don't click away just yet. I promise I'm not just boasting, bragging or bluffing here.

See that oddly placed word in my title? Yes, I said "perplexingly" happy. What the heck does that mean, you may be wondering. Well, see I was wondering too.

Let me lay out some of my life facts for you and perhaps you will see the source of my confusion.

I am teacher at a rural school, where my ideas are not appreciated and usually ignored, in spite of my experience and proven successes. (oh and don't forget that teachers in FLA-particularly my district- get paid diddly squat)

I live in my hometown.  A hometown that I ran kicking and screaming away from after graduating high school.  (Frankly I am still a bit "embarrassed" to have returned to teach after acting such a "big shot" about how I was "getting out" all through school)

My hometown is an hour away from civilization. (And by civilization I mean, Gainesville, which many could question it's worthiness of the label "civilized")

I rent from my parents. On their property. (As in I see the back of their house from my front porch.)

I'm a good 15 lbs away from my ideal weight.

My dog has cancer.

I'm single. 

As a girl I always thought I'd date my husband to be for ~5 years before we got married. I thought I'd be married before I turned 30. (Note, these weren't "goals" just these concepts I've had for a long time.)

I'm closer to the age of 26 these days then 25. You do the math.

So, overall it looks like the cards should be against me. I mean all the points above do not really sound like the ideal life for a fabulous 25 year old foodie and wannabe fashionista. But for reasons I still don't quite understand none of the above is getting me down. (ok, not 100% true, Chubby having cancer is really, really, really shitty, but it's also part of life, so I'm dealing with it.)

I love my little abarnment. I love my students and seeing their eyes light up when we do something "cool" in class. I love my wardrobe of clothes, so 15 lbs be damned, I look good. And luckily I love my parents dearly and enjoy seeing them everyday.

If you too would like to have this feeling of being geninely "high on life" I have only two suggestions for you.

1- Revel in the little things.
        
Little things like random flowers blooming in the dead of winter. (see my silly bromeliad above for an example) Little things like receiving a complementary cup of coffee at Starbucks just for returning an empty bean bag. Little things like encouraging a shy student to share their opinion in class. Little things like a brisk winter walk with a friend.

Those kinds of little things in life. Things that are mostly free and always worth keeping your eyes open for.

2- Play the smile game.

This one is simple. Just smile at someone until they smile back. (make sure your smile is genuine, otherwise you just come off as a creep or mentally unstable, ok?) You both will feel instantly happier. I love the smile game. I made it up last year and it's the best thing about my day sometimes.

I don't know if those two things are really the cause of my ridiculous feelings of happiness (hell, my hormones may just be bonkers out of balance from copious amounts of Christmas Sugar), but they do seem like some good guidelines for life, don't you agree?

Phew, thanks for listening to all that mushy happy stuff, guys. I'll do my best to return to my snarky gal self as soon as possible, because honestly one of the things that makes me most happy is all my "imaginary friends" on the internet!

Love to all,
~the happy gal, Jess

I'm a Racer, not a Runner

Now please don't be misled by that title.

I've been struggling with how to write what should be a simple "race-recap" for over a month now; just as I've had a struggling relationship with putting sneaker to the pavement for nearly 4 years now. 

I'm not that gal standing up on the podium receiving the special awards post race. (I'm just happy to get a finisher metal.) I'm not that gal picking off my "rabbits." (I'm happy to get passed by 10 year old Girls on the Run, decked out in purple.) I'm not the gal breaking any records, personal or otherwise. (I'm just happy to finish the race.)

But I am a gal that loves to race. (And if that means I have to run in the process, than so be it.)

However, I didn't know all those confident statements (even if written in Italics) applied to me until recently. I knew that I needed goals to stay on top of my physical fitness game and signing up for races seemed like the right thing to do. (Beside, you do totally sound like a badass telling your friends about registering for your next [blank] kilometer race)

Speaking of friends. Here are mine.

Ashley and Jenna are my roommates from college and two of my closest friends in the entire world. They have been there for me during the ups, downs and in-betweens of life. And they also were willing to get up early on a chilly December morning to be my cheering section at the OUC 5k.

As I stood shivering with my two friends, watching the start of the OUC Half Marathon and awaiting the call to the starting line for my own race all I realized two things: One was that I was excited to be out and about on this brisk morning and and the second was that I was seriously under-trained.

When I signed up for this race I had this idea that I wanted to run a sub 45 minute 5k since I had completed the 5k run of my first triathlon in October in exactly 45 minutes, post a 400m swim and 12km bike ride. My "brother" Tim had put together a training plan for me that he predicted could even get me sub 40 minutes.

Turns out both he and I were very optimistic, but again it was 100% my "fault" I didn't achieve either of our goals for me.  I started the training plan only 1 month (aka 4 weeks) out from the race and only completed 1 or two of the scheduled runs each week.  So yeah, really under-trained.

Regardless, when the last 1/2 marathoner had crossed the starting line and the call for us 5k-ers to line up came I hugged my girlies goodbye and jumped in towards the back of the pack.

As usual the start of the race was really exciting. (As evidenced by the little boy in white to my right.)

The pack thinned out pretty quickly and I was able to pick up a slow jog across the starting line and out onto the first leg and turn of the course.

We were running a lovely course through one of the older neighborhoods, chock-full of beautiful craftsman style houses and bungalows.  And also chock-full of cobblestone roads, slippery with morning dew. While I enjoyed the views of homes and lush landscape my legs and hips did not appreciate the cautious stride I was using on the cobblestones. Enter extreme hip cramps and lots of walking/hobbling to relieve the cramping.

I started to get frustrated with myself for not being strong enough physically, or mentally to just "power through." Negative thoughts including "why the hell did you sign up for a 1/2 marathon if you can't even run a 5k streamed through my mind. (And while that is still a valid question, it was not welcome mid race. I'm going to be racing in the Inaugural Rock n Roll St. Pete Half Marathon in February.)

Then suddenly my mood lifted. I honestly can't tell you if it was a shift of sunlight in the trees, a particularly lovely house or an adorable pack of Girls on the Run passing me but I shook off that negative feeling for good.

I realized I was alive.

I realized that the blood pumping hard through my body felt amazing.

I realized that if I didn't sign up for this race I would have been a lump sleeping in on an beautiful Saturday morning, missing out on the sunrise over Lake Eola. 

I realized that I was happy. 

I realized I was having fun.

I realized I was racing. 

I realized I am a racer, not a runner.  

So, for the rest of the race I ran when I could and walked when I couldn't. Pure and simple. And with that I finished my first official* 5k with a respectful time of 48:47. While this time is reflective of my walk breaks, it says nothing about the racing/running balance I earned for my heart and soul by the time I crossed that finish line.

What I earned from this 5k cannot be measured with a new personal record, a trip to the winners podium or the size of my finisher's metal. I learned to find peace with the fact that being an "A Corral" runner isn't going to be a goal of mine. My body, nor lifestyle, could not support such a goal.
  
I was running this race on the anniversary of my heart surgery. I was never athletic as a child. I would much rather read a book than go for a run. And I'm ok with all those facts.

I'm a racer, not a runner.

I love the camaraderie of a race. I love seeing amazing athletes at races; I am humbled to be in the same "race" as those athletes. I love letting little kids smoke me on the course; I just love being out on the course.

Oh, and I also love the complementary beers after the race. You know me, always keeping it real.

Love to all,
~the "racer, not runner" gal, Jess

*this was my first actual 5k. My first race was a 5 mile leg of a 1/2 marathon relay and the second was the MyFirstTri sprint distance triathlon.

PS. Also, I here by swear off the "thumbs up" while racing. Between my ridiculous turned out ex ballet dancer stride and hickhicker thumbs I don't need any additional photographic evidence looking like a total doof.

Welcoming 2012 OR A Traditional Gal Ring In

It was just last year at this time, I was chattering on about how I have "grown up" dinners out with my friends for NYE, and how my childhood days of doing jigsaw puzzles with my parents were long gone. 

The ringing in for 2012 was supposed to be more of the glamorous same: my boy-bestie Michael and I had plans to enjoy delicious Thai eats and treats at Orchid Thai of Winter Park with a large group of friends and then migrate down the street to Wine Room for some sophisticated debauchery and a midnight champagne toast.

Sometimes though certain events in life change even your best laid plans. 

This is Chubby. He is my baby. And he has cancer. 

He was diagnosed with an inoperable abdominal tumor just over two months ago. As he has been his normal self the all this time we are just "riding it out" for the time being. (He is also 11 years old, which for a large dog is very elderly) But on Friday night he took a turn for what looked like the worst. A urinary tract infection I'd been treating him for the last week didn't seem to be clearing and he was getting very reluctant to eat or drink water.

Needless to say, I did not feel comfortable leaving him with my parents (which is what I typically do when I travel and he can't come along) and with the vet's office closed for the holiday weekend I didn't have any other options.

Plan B consisted of joining my parents for their annual puzzle building party on NYE. And since Chub and I were the honorary guests, I even got to choose the puzzle.

 It's a good thing I also chose to tackle this 1000 piece monster with a generous pour of vino, because this vintage French print is tough. In fact I am may have cried out "inconceivable" and very nearly swore "impossible" a few times as we sorted the frustratingly similarly colored pieces and began tackling the border.

We worked on this puppy (while my sick puppy snoozed on a cushy stack of quilts) long past Lady Gaga's performance on ABC's Dick Clark's Rockin Eve and the famous ball drop. Dad even got in on the action with a magnifying glass after a few flutes of champagne! Sadly, we only finished the border in all that time. (Did I mention this puzzle was HARD?)

New Year's Day has been more of the same. Puzzle, puzzle, yoga to stretch out the kinks in my back and neck, then more puzzle time.  (Plus plenty of cuddle time with Chubby, of course!)

Note the serious progress here. 

Two of the three types of text are finished and attached to the border!

I finally took a break for a delicious helping of my family's traditional Southern Good Luck Meal.

Black Eyed Peas over Rice with Collard Greens 

(Plus a side of tomatoes with mayonnaise. Told ya it was southern!)

And now, this puzzle, like many good things in life, is coming along slowly but surely.

My New Year's Celebration this year may have been a bit more "slow and traditional" than recent years past, however I'm really happy with how it has turned out. All too often I feel I'm rushing around like madwoman, neglecting to slow down and enjoy the moment. This weekend (and most of my holiday vacation) has been the perfect time to stop, spend time with my family (furbabies included) and enjoy the little things life has to offer. Things like cooking a meal with those you love, snuggling with a stinky but sweet dog, reading a book for the sheer joy of it, and the frustration, but ultimate success that comes from working on a puzzle!

I think the Rolling Stones said it best, "you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you'll get what you need"

I hope the start of 2012 has brought you and your loved ones great joy and celebration.

Love to all,
~the "you know, a celebration doesn't have to be fancy to be just what you need" gal, Jess

Tasty Treats for Christmas Eats

For several years now, this one not to be excluded, I've talked about the making of my fraternal grandmother's Cardamom Bread. What I've neglected to mention is the second part of this annual tradition.

Since my family is Catholic, we always attend Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve to celebrate the real reason for our beautiful Christmas Season. After mass (which at our church ends at midnight) we head home for champagne and ham sandwiches on cardamom bread.

Let me tell you folks. Nothing tastes better than a ham sandwich on soft, fragrantly spiced bread at 1:30am on (technically) Christmas Morning. Well, the only thing that makes it better is a glass of champagne (or four! my father keeps insisting on buying a magnum of champagne for our family of three!) and a side of classic deviled eggs.

Our ham sandwiches may have been traditional, but Christmas dinner was anything but this year. (Praise be to the newborn Baby Jesus! I would gag if we had another slice of roasted turkey in this house. )

For dinner: Rosemary and Sea Salt Sourdough, Shrimp and Spinach Cheddar Grits and a beautiful (but sadly unpictured) salad made of mixed greens from my mother's best friend's garden. And for a simple dessert: "holiday red" grapes topped with Greek yogurt and a sprinkle of brown sugar.

I hope your holiday season is filled with wonderful food, be it traditional or no, but more importantly that you are able to cherish the time you spend with friends and family during your meals.

Love to all,
~the "I'm getting sentimental about meals in my old age" gal, Jess

Giving is Better than Receiving

See that stylish outfit? No, it's not my sweet rags for Christmas dinner. (heck, it's so warm in Florida right now just the thought of a sweater makes me, well, sweaty) The outfit isn't even mine. It's for the Christmas Angel I chose off the Giving Tree at my church.

For years my family has chosen several Angels, which are essentially wish lists from disadvantaged children and families, after which my mum and I would hit the mall/Target to fulfill the list and have a blast playing in the toys and clothing sections of the stores I had long out grown.

This year as my family was choosing Angels, it hit me. "Um, Jess? You are a grown woman. You have a full time job, you pay your own bills, you tithe to the church independently, isn't it time you stopped mooching off your parent's charitable acts?" Duly noted, inner-monologue, duly noted.

So I chose an angel reading "outfit for a 15-19 year old girl."  Perhaps shopping for toys would have been more fun, but as a high school teacher that is my demographic and I love my kids, so this just felt right. And you know what friends? Clothes shopping for a mystery girl is so fun! Perhaps I went a bit overboard at Forever 21 buying for my angel, because I couldn't stop with just a dress (which is a halter style, so she can wear it all year long) and sweater. I had to add those great shoes, a sweet color popping bracelet and a cute little owl necklace as a cute nod to her giver, me! (I'm an FAU alumni, Go Owls!) Oh and of course I fell for the lip glosses in the bowl by the register, so in the bag it went! (Let's not talk about the final bill, ok?)

I hope my Angel Girl loves her Christmas gift. Giving is so much more fun that receiving in my opinion, mostly because I love to shop! Oh and I love making people happy. Really Christmas is a win-win time for me.

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you have a joyful and blessed holiday with friends, family and all those you love.

Love to all,
~the little Christmas Elf Gal, Jess

PS. Speaking of giving, I went non-traditional with my co-worker gifts this year, since most of them are all watching their eating I didn't think my usual treats of toffee, cookie dough balls or cheese biscuits would be well received!

I got a steal on oil cruets from a restaurant wholesaler and then filled them with dried chilies and peeled garlic cloves. Instant flavored oil! I also included a recipe card full of suggested uses for the oil with each bottle.

Advent Books and Baking

Advent is one of my favorite times of the year, and as Christmas is a scant 3 days away, that also means the season of advent is drawing to a close.

As child nothing was more exciting that than the weekend I walked in to the church to see the advent wreath hanging from the wooden rafters, gently rotating in the air, made deliciously fragrant with a mixture of evergreen and incense. (I'm a Catholic gal, in case you aren't familiar with the tradition of an Advent Wreath)

The four week "season" of Advent is meant as a time to prepare for Christmas and reflect on scripture in the Catholic faith. Usually though I end up spending Advent like many other Americans: rushing to the mall, holiday parties, baking extra goodies for family and friends, you know the drill.

And while this year I still have the baking down pat, as I spent the entire day working on these beauties.

What you see above is my annual advent labor of love in honor to my fraternal grandmother (and to my tastebuds, of course-this bread is SO incredible), the baking of Cardamom Bread. I chronicled this day long process back in 2009, so everyone could make this wonderful homemade bread.

One thing I have done more of this Advent however is reflection on my relationship with my faith. I've always been proud to be Catholic (although I haven't talked much about it on the blog) and take comfort in the tradition and ritual of attending weekly mass. However, I've always felt like I'm not a very "spiritual" person, in spite of my deep love for my religion. As I've gotten older, that lack of a personal connection with God, or any higher power, has led me to some deep thought, prayer and intense  conversation with many friends who are the opposite of me as they label themselves as "spiritual not religious."

Imagine my surprise then when my most recent read, A Voice in the Wind by Francine Rivers, had a very strong spiritual theme. While reading this beautiful novel set in Rome after the fall of Jerusalem I was so inspired by the quiet strength the heroine Hadassah took in her relationship with the Lord. Hiding her Christianity in a wild, hedonistic city took a deep inner strength that I admired in this fictional character. While I don't know if reading this book will have any long term effects on my personal spirituality, I found it to be the perfect "accidental Advent" read, because it did provide me plenty of opportunity to reflect on religion and it's role in society.

I would recommend this novel to anyone, regardless of your take on religion, as it was full of beautify imagery, action, drama, betrayal and of course, love.

Love to all,
~the gal who is very appreciative of Advent, Jess

My Holiday Season....

...is here.

And my holiday break starts in 3 days. See you on the flipside!

Love to all,
~the "little Miss Mistletoe Gal," Jess