Another Year, Another Disappointment: Monkey Bread

I got excited. I thought of manicures and flats and cute dresses and a new battery for my long-forgotten watch. I imagined summer nights on the porch and being a regular at happy hour at a beautiful bar. I imagined a boss who would let me grow and change and excel and interacting with excited customers. I imagined baking dessert for the pantry or cinnamon buns for breakfast. I thought about the flexibility and imagined a life full of passion. 

The interview was good. It was really good. I made her laugh. I connected. I told stories of social work and helping the youth and customer service. I told decades worth of stories of small business to small corporate to international corporations. I sugar-coated all the negative things about my job, I held back my anger at feeling unsupported and under appreciated. I hid it really well. I don't hide very well, but I did it. 

I convinced myself I could easily do 60 hour weeks because I was so excited. I imagined listening to music while I did tasks. I thought about genuinely smiling at my coworkers. I dreamt of laughing every day. I daydreamed about feeling light at the idea of going to work.  

But I didn't get it. 

I didn't get it. 

I didn't get it. 

"I actually think you're destined for bigger things than our little hotel." I cannot even fathom what this woman who met me for one hour can imagine what I'm destined for or how it's bigger than a beautiful, century old hotel run by a family who literally gets to live there, but I hope she's right. I hope she's not just playing nice and saying pleasantries, but today I can't imagine what she means. 

Today I got a text that I'm special from a man who's met so many people it would make my introverted head spin. I'm "super strong, driven, and strange." How can people I love make me feel so special, but I can't land a $14/hr job or move up in a company that I feel like I personify. What is wrong with me if only the few people I open up to know my "true" potential? What if I've just tricked everyone, myself included? 

When I get sad and disappointed, I bake for compliments. How surprising. So I didn't want elaborate. I didn't want too many dishes. I wanted easy. I wanted delicious. I wanted visibly gorgeous and interesting. So I made Monkey Bread from a Pioneer Woman recommended recipe. It was beautiful. It was easy. It was delicious and not low calorie in anyway. As one of my favorite people quotes all the time, "More butter, more better." 

Getting Grounded: Banana Nut Bread

Sometimes I feel like I’m screaming into an abyss. That I’m at the bottom of something and no matter how hard I try, I’ll forever be stuck here. I keep talking and talking and screaming and screaming and no one can hear me, or if they can, they’ve stopped listening… because no one wants to listen to me.

Sometimes I feel like running away. Leaving every single thing I own and love and disappearing into a world of adventure and newness. I would adopt a new gait, a new speech pattern, a new name. Maybe I could dye my hair blonde and live fearlessly, because I’m afraid of everything… and know that no one would miss me.

I don’t let these days last long. I often hope these feelings are fleeting and I can go about my normal routine and live a life I’m proud of instead. I have plans, you know.

But in the strangest way, I have things that ground me, bring me back to how wonderful my life is.  I do have an occasional slip up where I feel like I’m drowning or I need to disappear, but I keep coming back. I keep treading or standing or solidifying.

Third quarter at my store is hectic. Corporate cut hours and I feel stressed out and dizzy most days. I feel overworked, underappreciated, and a little dead inside. I feel like I’m CONSTANTLY teaching people how to do things they need to know how to do already and guzzling coffee like it’s a life saving potion to a disease that’s killing me.

But I have these things, wonderful things, that remind me to relax. 

I had a day off with the Lady. It was like the planets and stars and God aligned, and I had a Wednesday off with her (I never have Wednesdays off). The weather was supposed to be 90* and humid at home, but we both had the whole day off. We got in the car at 6:30AM and went to Rhode Island and laid outside Taylor Swifts $17mil home and imagined what it would be like to have multiple houses and money to throw at things. We walked on the beach and embarrassingly caught Pokemon and laughed and laughed and laughed. We ate a delicious meal and got really sleepy and took showers and went straight to bed. I was one of those days you love every second.

Last week, I baked. I mashed and sifted and folded and waited. And I reveled in the praise and enjoyed my day. I have trips planned and cars tested and books skimmed and kisses brushed and hair petted and cats scratched. I have the lovely life that makes me feel fuzzy, and I just have to readjust my scope every once in a while. 

An Update: PB Surprise Cookies and Classics

As I said I'd do, I will reevaluate my list. 

3. Take my health as a priority --I have established a PCP, gone to the dentist 😍 (I strangely LOVE the dentist), set up an eye appointment, an annual with a gyno, and follow up for baseline bloodwork with my doctor. I did a six week CrossFit challenge and a mostly paleo diet. My body changed and I felt muscles and felt good. I continue to go to the gym and I registered for a half marathon which I've begun lazily training for! (#2 on the list) 

10. Get my CT residency. Done. 

22. Advance my career at Starbucks. It's in the works. More education and responsibility. It'll be excited to see where things go! 

27.  Doing that.. And definitely quietly baking. In relation to number 12, I decided to send the last baked good as a form of love for all, payment for one, and a forget-me-not of sorts for some. 

Which brings me to this post. 

A friend of mine makes me a better person, a more optimistic person. We were once in love and when it ended, I thought I lost a person who made me kinder and more attuned to the world. Eventually, we found a spot in each other's lives again and it is lovely. He started a graduate program last September and he graduated this week, so I sent him some cookies and a card for a girl (there are no snarky cards from bitter graduates to someone who has a higher degree and no debt... I see a market). 

I have another friend who just...gets me. She knows I need constant reassurance that she still loves me and she gives it to me. She checks in on me when she thinks of me. She makes me feel like I'm a good person. She knows I HATE the phrase, "It is what it is" but she still says it to me. So I got her a mug that says that. And her roommate whom I worked with has an Alex and Ani bracelet that says, "it is what it is" as well. She says it's a family motto, so I got her one too. And her other roommate is one of the sweetest, kindest girls with the biggest heart and most giving soul. I got her a mug too. They each got a card a few cookies. 

I texted my friend that I wanted to do a half. She was endlessly supportive. She told me about her experiences and told me I'd love it and was amazing, as she always is. A few weeks later, I asked her about her opinion on GPS watches and she told me she would send me hers. No questions asked, no hesitation. I offered her money and she practically scoffed at me. "I don't use it," she said. "I don't care about mileage or pace," she said. "I'm crazy," she didn't say, but it's clear she is. So I told her I'd bake for her. And that's the primary reason I spent some time on a day off baking cookies and loving my morning. 

I tried to use this tonight as I ran, but it is a complicated little bugger. But I sat down after my run and before my shower  and slowly read the stupid book she packed up with it and reset it to me and my timezone and figured out how to get it to work. 

But I started my morning like this. 

Aaaaaand, mistakes happen, like being too cheap to spend cash on pastry bags and having your sandwich bag explode over multiple cookies. But then you eat copious amounts of spilled, melted chocolate and peanut butter and have a terrible side stitch in your 3.5 mile run. But things happen. 

Another Year Older: Birthday Cake

February is always a very busy month. Perhaps because it is the shortest, but for some reason I feel like every day is a holiday, day off, or a birthday. That includes mine!

I’m a firm believer that one should not get one’s hopes up. I have learned that getting let down is terrible. I say this, yet I am a self proclaimed optimist. I always hope that something good will happen. I always hope.

But I make my own cake every year. I make something that I find delicious because I want to eat something I know I want (I am rarely disappointed in my own baking that is for me). I also make something to share and be told how good it is and be thanked because I’m an attention seeker.

This year I was lucky, because I wouldn’t have had a single cake if I hadn’t made mine. I was showered with love by nephews, nieces, sisters, and parents. I was given a chocolate mousse with a candle. I couldn’t ask for more from my family. The Lady sent a package that got delivered ON my birthday, which was super exciting, including an adorable star sparkler that was like a candle on a cake from her. I got a few texts from friends that said that they couldn’t make it to the post office in time, but they knew it was my birthday last week and knew it that day. I got texts and calls and felt love. My boss at Starbucks got me ring pops and stickers and a card signed by some of my favorite baristas.

But sometimes I get my hopes up, like I did for my birthday. It was more of a pattern I thought would continue, a mathematical equation of sorts. Since I’ve been back at job #2, everyone at work has gotten a birthday cake the shift after their birthday. But I brought my cake in and only one person remembered it was my birthday that week. As multiple people were shoving the cake in their faces, they mumbled happy birthday with some enthusiasm but I had an expectation. I had the expectation of a cake at the end of the shift. It would feel trite and embarrassing, but it would mean I was a part of the crew. I was loved there.

As I’m sure you’ve noticed, this was getting my hopes up. I spoiled the punchline. I only had my own cake for my birthday.

But being 27, I guess I shouldn’t be too disappointed. So I am going to do 27 things this year that I want to do and write the list here. Some things are trivial, some are #adulting, some are things I’ve wanted forever. I’ll keep updating with these things. I’m quite excited about the things to come.

1.       Get the tattoo I’ve been talking about getting for the last 7 years

2.       Run a half marathon

3.       Take my health as a priority

4.       Go on a plane absolutely anywhere

5.       Spend at least 10 days at the beach

6.       Spend a night in a hotel

7.       Get my hair cut at least three times

8.       Be honest with people

9.       Start school

10.   Get my CT residence

11.   Spend more time writing

12.   Send more packages to people that I love

13.   Volunteer somewhere I care about

14.    Get my belongings out of storage

15.   Stop being afraid to let things end

16.   Recognize when you are not okay and stop taking it out on people

17.   Keep a plant alive for a whole year

18.   See Katie’s Christmas tree

19.   Give as freely as my mother

20.   Teach people about things I believe in

21.   Get drinks (including coffee, because I can’t drink that much) with people I care about as often as possible

22.   Advance my career at Starbucks

23.   Find a cute pair of grey boots

24.   Finish listening to the Harry Potter series

25.   Read some more memoirs

26.   Save at least $2000 into my savings (not including the 401k, secret cash stash, and tips)

27.   Reevaluate this list every month… and bake more

EDIT: The Lady carved me a cake in line with my new diet when I saw her the week after my birthday. It was thoughtful and beautiful and it made me feel loved and listened to. She’s a keeper.

Transported through taste: Tres Leches Cake

Scientifically, the sense of smell is most closely linked to memory.

The smell of fresh lilacs-- my favorite scent--brings me to the lilac bush, under the shade of the maple tree my sister and I still fight over with who planted it, next to the garage. 

The scent of mud, specifically earthy and wet with dandelions and grass mixed in, brings me sitting on cool cement beneath the deck, making mud pies with my mom. 

The scent of earth, musky and hearty, brings me to beneath the garage where we used to keep cans for recycling and a cat once had kittens and we used to keep our beat up lawnmower. 

The scent of real jasmine, the kind that gets blown through the air on a warm summer breeze, brings me to a beautiful back yard, sitting on the edge of a pool surrounded by what I can only describe as my dream. The avocado tree creating moon shadows, the oranges and lemons hanging on their respective branches like Chinese lanterns, and the glow from the pool creating a cool, green glow on my two best friends’ happy faces. I get transported to that backyard every time I get a whiff of genuine jasmine and it blows my mind every time. 

To me, the fact that sense of smell is so linked to memory, it only makes sense that the sense of taste is very similar. While this might not be scientifically true, I don’t care much. Because this week I was transported to years ago with a bite of cake. It is mind boggling to me that it is years ago now, but it brought me back to 2011. It brought me back to a different relationship, a different country, a different me. 

I can remember certain things in the smallest, most minute detail. All together, I spent nearly (over?) four weeks of 2011 in Nicaragua. A small country south of Mexico, nestled right next to Costa Rica. I spent my time there slathered in SPF 50+, at the pool, at the beach, or wandering around a country I knew next-to-nothing about. But sometimes, when I put on a specific fragrance of deodorant, I get transported to the tiled, dark bathroom I spent every morning.

I spent one night at a resort on the side of a mountain overlooking San Juan del Sur. I was dressed in a dress he liked and I felt pretty in.  We sat next to a pool and drank drinks and ate a tres leches cake watching the sun set over the ocean and mountain and were in love. 

We ate tres leches multiple times, him telling me it’s authentic and this place and that place had the best ones.

My boss created an adorable menu for his wife for her 30^th birthday with courses named after their children and adventures, and they too had a memory linked to tres leches. I didn’t want to spoil the dinner with a recipe that wasn’t worthy, so I made two and told him if he didn’t like the first, he could toss the second and get his baker-friend to make a fresh one for his dinner.  I tried it first. It was better than the cupcake I made years ago. It brought me to the Pelican Eyes Resort and sitting at the open air bar with a piece of tres leches and a drink in front of me, watching the sun set over the ocean. 

I am happy where I am now. But it sure is interesting to remember where you’ve been.

Hope and Learning: Poke Turtle Brownies

Last year was a doozy. The year 2015 was undeniably more rude than kind to me. 

I’ve decided that this year I will try very hard to be kind to myself, since the world isn’t always very kind.

I’ve spent the past few weeks making decisions to make myself feel better, to help me love myself more, to give me (and the people I love) more happiness.  I have requested off time to enjoy my own time and spend time with my friends and family, I’ve taken time off to see friends having a hard time, I’ve baked for myself and my mother, I’ve made sure to put effort into relationships that further my growth.

I’ve begun asking questions that make me happier to know the answers to and tried to see the world through the eyes of a child. I reread The Little Prince and have been trying to remember people by the colors of their eyes, the crookedness of their teeth, and the sound of their laughter. 

I have been listening to my body (which mostly says sleep and drink more water) and recognize when I need a break. I’ve been strengthening my body and meditating and running again. I’ve been trying to eat a variety of colors every day. I have been trying to connect to loved ones and tell them how much I care.

These aren’t “New Year’s Resolutions” so much as a continuation of the “new year” of life-changing efforts.  I realized I need to focus on making myself a better person and continue to strive to make myself better, because that’s what I tell people to do all the time.  You create a better circle when you attract people who want to make the world a little better. 

So the first baked good of 2016 was a batch of brownies I’ve been thinking of making for weeks.  The last few times I’ve made brownies, I have been delighted with what life has brought me.  One of my favorite cupcakes and a life-changing relationship, if you’re keeping track.

I found nerdy people on the internet to explain how to go from a 9x13 pan to an 8x8 pan. I read about math and reflected on how my brain works. I watched many episodes of Criminal Minds and thought about genetics. I created a beautiful brownie with a finger-licking frosting and snacked on quickly-cooling caramel and pecans. 

I hope this is an indicator of the success of the next year, because I don’t think I’ll be disappointed. Though, all I’m really hoping is that it’s better than last year.

Being Grateful and Cookies

I believe my greatest feat in happiness is finding something to be grateful for every single day. Some days I have to paint my own silver lining because I can’t find it, but I’m normally one of those disgustingly optimistic people who can find a (sometimes inappropriate-joke-at-the-right-time) positive light. 

When things got really bad this summer, I had my silver linings and blessings.  The Lady didn’t die in a terrible car crash that, by the looks of it, should have taken her life. My parents came to my aid when things got darkest. I had a friend to call to help me move last minute when I was kicked out. My job was easily transferrable. I had my health, so even without health insurance, I was still in the clear. And my boss from my high school job was kind enough to give me a shift that he didn’t have until I asked for a job.

Even on normal days when I’m just feeling off, I have things for which to be thankful.  One specific thought I have is that I’m not as terrible as I think I am on the bad days because I have four specific people who are still my closest friends despite my horrible communication, hundreds of miles, and terrible decisions.  If they want to stick it out and be my friend, then clearly I can’t be that bad. (I talked about Brenna specifically recently, but there are a few others.)

So when I have something very specific to be thankful for from someone, I want to show them that I honestly am grateful.

Since I moved to the new store, things have been happening that I need to ask people for help.  Without them knowing me, they don’t know how much I try to avoid this.  But when I could see the Lady for the first time in a while, someone switched a shift with me and saved my Thanksgiving. When my great-aunt Gen died, my boss very easily told me to take the time off to take care of my mom. When I excitedly made plans with my niece for a very delayed birthday dinner, someone switched with me so I didn’t have to be the worst aunt in the world to cancel plans.

So to pay those people back (deservedly), I did what I do. I baked cookies and wrote thank you notes.  When I got to thinking about it though, I realized that my boss was this amazing man who took me back, not many questions asked. He is a nosy man, that boss.  But he is a kind hearted and warm guy who makes sure I know he cares. So I baked him the cookies he’s been asking for after the first batch of regular chocolate chip cookies for the ones at Starbucks.