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local artist/local actress joy

Sailing away.

One year for her birthday, my sister received a shirt that was so absolutely awesome that it has come to symbolize my older sibling worship. Even twenty years later, we can still easily recall the details of The Coolest Shirt Ever without much prompting. I got the idea for this blog entry last week, and went on a fact-finding mission.

Me: Do you remember that shirt with the girl on the sailboat?
Sis: Yes! It was a white shirt with red, blue, and yellow accents.
Me: Right. Do you remember who gave it to you?
Sis:  No idea. Not mom?

What made this shirt so enviable to me was not so much the sailboat motif - I can count on one hand how many times my family and I have been on a boat together. In recent years we bandied about the idea of going on a casino cruise in Florida, but it quickly petered out in favor of a more traditional family activity of simply doing nothing at all.

No, what made this The Coolest Shirt Ever was the girl's boom box on the sailboat. Inside the snaps held a battery pack that when pressed omitted some sort of tinny-sounding song. My sister and I can't remember the specific tune, but it quickly became her favorite shirt. It was interactive! It was sea worthy! To this day I have to admire what an adult my mother was - to remove and return the battery pack after each washing. I can promise you that if I owned The Coolest Shirt Ever today, the battery pack would have lasted approximately three laundry loads before it went through the wash and was ruined.

Like any youngest of three, my clothing choices were almost 100% hand-me-downs. I knew if I would just bide my time, my sister would eventually outgrow The Coolest Shirt Ever and it would be mine. Victory was bittersweet, though. Despite my mom's diligence, the music had stopped playing and the battery pack was removed by the time it was tucked in my drawer.

It's stupid the things we remember from childhood. This shirt still reminds me of how I felt growing up. Simply put, my big sisters could do no wrong. If they liked it, well then it was the Coolest Thing Ever and all I could do was to be patient while I waited for it to be mine.

True.

 

South Congress Ave.

Austin, TX

Weekend joy!

Look who's comin' to Texas this weekend!

And look who's gettin' married!

Is it Friday yet?

Music of the month.

It must be weird being rich. I can't imagine walking into a store without making a beeline to the sales rack (my dad swears by that one) or choosing something at a restaraunt without at least considering its cheapest option first. I was taught to be a frugal bugal and this I shall remain.

Except at the beginning of each month. I only get paid monthly which is basically a huge problem. For a few days, I feel remarkably rich. Ask me to dinner, and I'll probably buy us dessert. Need another round at the bar? Don't worry, I got this one. Of course, as soon as my rent check is cashed, reality sets in and it's back to my penny pinching ways. And then by the end of the month, I'm eating pantry food selections and wondering how long I can put off that toilet paper purchase.

One of  my favorite first o' the month pasttimes is stocking up on a handful of new albums. I tend to grab whatever's on sale for $5 on Amazon with the occassional full price (!) choice. This month's selection?

Tift Merritt

See you on the moon

Mayer Hawthorne

A strange arrangement

Janis Joplin

Pearl

Natasha Bedingfield

Pocketful of sunshine

(Quit your hipster judgement.)

Maybe when I'm independently wealthy or marry up I'll be one of those music snobs who only buys directly from the artist and yammers on and on about how the art of creating an album is dead, that itunes and amazon is killing music industry, how vinyl is the only true musical medium worth listening to, yadda yadda yadda. In the mean time, I'll have to make do. At least I have first o' the month music to keep me feeling richer than I really am.

Musical crush.

My agenda for this weekend: Listen to this song. Repeat.

Time to play.

(via loveyourchaos)

Shall we go a-swingin'?

Let's shall!

Autumn in the summertime.

I didn't realize that by living in Texas, I would be forfeiting all rights to autumn. Today's temperature is 90 degrees. Ninety frickin' degrees in late September. What's worse is that the entire city of Austin seems to be in a state of denial- stores are stocked with clothes nobody can wear, Starbucks returned its seasonal Pumpkin Spice Latte to the menu despite it being cold drink weather, and my air conditioning hasn't been turned off since June.

There's really nothing left to do but lament and idolize a season which I don't technically get to enjoy until December... and by then, I'll be too busy romanticizing winter to notice. Nevertheless, in the spirit of joyfulness I bring you...

Joie d'fleur.

 

Sometimes, it's the little things that count.

Especially when that something is heavily discounted at the floral shop down the street.

Bad habits and seafood.

I've developed some bad habits over the years since I began living alone. I find it completely appropriate to begin taking off my pants as I head to the bathroom, for example. I talk to myself constantly. I drink straight from the milk carton. While these things are enough to make Emily Post flip over in her grave, perhaps no bad habit is as worrisome to me as my tendency to eat over the kitchen sink. There, I said it: I eat over the kitchen sink. I'm a sinkie. On one hand, crouching over the kitchen sink saves on plates, spills, and avoids yet another personal reminder that my kitchen table is broken and has been since I moved in over a year ago. On the other hand, it's rather unbecoming. I'm mid-way through my mango and then suddenly realize I'm not that far removed from Wilbur eating from the trough. It's an unsettling thought.

In an effort to reclaim my (still broken) kitchen table, I plan to make more meals that require basic utensils.Tonight? Victory.

Laura, 1. Kitchen Sink, 0.

Garlicky Baked Shrimp
adapted from Real Simple Magazine

1 pound raw, peeled and deveined shrimp
4 cloves sliced garlic
2 tablespoons chicken broth
salt and pepper
1/4 cup softened butter (I reduced it to 2-3 tbsp. Heart attacks = Sad face.)
1/4 cup panko bread crumbs
2 tablespoons chopped parsley

Preheat oven to 425F.

In a baking dish, combine the shrimp, garlic and broth. Season with salt and pepper. Combine the butter, bread crumbs and parsley and sprinkle over shrimp. Bake 15 to 18 minutes.

confessions of a cookie junkie

A few weeks ago I read an article about a food critic who struggled with obesity and how he decided to become vegan everyday until dinnertime, thus losing a ton of weight without giving up everything for good. I read this triumphant tale in the wee hours of the morning after just getting into work (read: not fully awake). As I took swigs of my coffee (with cream), I began writing a chipper email to a colleague, an all-the-time vegan. "Guess what? I'm going to try this! I'm going to be vegan until 6 pm every day!" I patted myself on the back for being so clever. Healthy habits, ahoy! It was only then did I realize that in between keystrokes, I had grabbed and consumed a handful of cheddar bunnies (the organic and slightly less processed version of Goldfish). Oh, wait. That means no cheese. Well, f&%^ that idea.

I'm a terrible dieter. Fact is, I'm far too nice to myself when I'm on a diet because even on the worst of food days, I can still remind myself, "Well, it's not like I ate an entire pizza - that's way worse," or "Way to not buy a dozen cupcakes and eat them all in one sitting, Laura - you're SO HEALTHY!" I'm so good at summoning up lists of things I didn't eat that day that I conveniently forget all the things that I did. See what I mean? Worst dieter ever.

One of my greatest weaknesses in life are baked goods. Brownies, cake, pie... whatever. It's all delicious, it's all for me. Working in a residential hall on campus means easy access to far too many baked goods, 24 hours a day. Now even laziness isn't a preventive shield against the stuff. A few weeks ago a colleague and I began actually taking our 10-minute afternoon break (crazy, right?) at work to grab a cookie and sit outside and thaw our overly air-conditioned bodies in the hot Texas sun. We talk about whatever is on our mind and eat our cookies together. It's basically bliss and has easily become the best part of my day, and that's not just because of the cookie, although it certainly helps.

I think I've always been a cookie monster, only now my monster-like tendencies are paired with becoming an afternoon break monster and a talk-about-my-feelings monster... and that's good enough for me. Sing it with me: cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C!!!!

Where'd she go?

Work's been a bear.

Be back soon.

I'd give you one if I could.

Have you given anyone a hug today?

Hope so.

Joie de text.

"I love living by myself. I'm eating marshmallows dipped in chocolate, drinking wine, and watching Dawson's Creek. PS, I went out on Saturday night, got completely bombed, and proceeded to tell a group of hot guys that they were 98 Degrees. Then, I pointed out who was in the group. Then I talked to "Drew Lachey" for an hour and made my friend give him my number."

- Joy, in the form of a text message

That was Wisconsin.

Behold, the dairy state.

I recently took my first vacation since beginning my job last year. Subsequently, I also had my first post-vacation experience which can only described as vacation hangover. Typical to other experiences I've, uh, had - vacation hangover felt strikingly similar: Headache. Grumpiness. Overall malaise with sudden, persistent cravings for mac and cheese. Periodic whimpering.


It makes sense, though. If you suddenly take away afternoon naps, increase temperatures by 30+ degrees, AND return to 40-hour work weeks, grumpy pants can't be too far away. Especially coming off a vacation which involved:

Hanging out with my nieces and nephew

Spending time with friends

Grilling out with my family

And, of course, cheese!

It's always hard to come back from vacation. Still, I'm joyful for the time I got to spend with family and friends this summer. No matter how long I live in Texas, Wisconsin will always be my home.