SAMB: New fangled Word Press blog

I've packed up and moved: http://mysandboxlife.wordpress.com/

SAMB: Lent, again.

Lent is sneaky.  

I wasn't expecting it again so soon, but there it is.  I had not even reflected on what I did last year, I had to go back and read about it refresh my memory.  Perk to blogging, reading about things I would have normally forgotten. Perk to reader comments, responding with what item I had actually given up.

This year, I am more intentional that last year. I'm thinking about Lent a whole 4 days in advance, that is planning right there.  I'm already sugar-free and thought about continuing that.  I also thought about bread again but that didn't really get me excited either.  Talking to the hubs this AM, he asked "what about adding something?" Brilliant.  Sometimes I'm so focused that the simplest thoughts do not even occur to me. So for this lent, I'm going to add something. And that gets me excited. The addition will be a practice of some sort.  An activity that will draw my attention to the state of my being. 

There are a lot of mindfulness practices like yoga, mediation, prayer, relaxation, devotion, silence & solitude, breathing, and according to the Mindfulness Practice Center at the University of Missouri sometimes bells are involved. Bells seem like too much for me and might lead me to punch someone in the face, which would be opposite of mindful.

I guess I'll just wait and see what the universe choses for me by Wednesday and go with that. 

You can't make this stuff up

On Saturday I write a mini-manifesto about my profession while sitting on my couch drinking coffee. 

On Monday I get an email from the National Academic Advising Association inviting me as part of a underrepresented (AKA not old white guys) population of academic advisors, to consider applying for the Emerging Leaders Program.  

The ELP partners current members with various NACADA leaders in a mentor/mentee relationship for 2 years of intentional professional development with the express goal to groom aspiring NACADA leaders.

I thought about it for all of a minute and knew I had to apply. 

I'm totally okay with being groomed. One step closer to world domination.

Here's a sneak peak at what I'm thinking about for the intro to my statement of intent:

"In the fall of 2006, I attended my first National Academic Advisor Association annual conference in Indianapolis, Indiana with a colleague from my office. I had recently taken on the role of professional academic advisor and thought attending the annual conference of the national association would be a great way to learn more about the standards of the profession.  Five years and four national conferences later, I grow even more passionate about advising and have found my place in a life-long profession."

It's kind of mushy. I kind of like that.

It's kind of wordy. I do not like that.

At least I have some initial thoughts down and time to think about this some more.

SAMB: Saturday AM Blog

I didn't know a lot about college life growing up. Neither of my parents went to college, nor did my grandparents, aunts, uncles or the majority of my cousins as far as I know, except one.  Fortunately, the one cousin who did go to college, went to a really good one and after that, worked at really good ones and raised me with the assumption that I was headed to college after high school. I wanted to go far away, to the same college as one of my best friends in high school but my family couldn't afford it, so I stayed close which really was one of the best things thats happened to me. (Its great how in telling a story retrospectively you can summarize months teen angst, fighting, and drama down to "so I stayed close.")

College campuses are amazing places. I admit I'm spoiled because my alma mater and current place of employment is a recognized botanical garden but its not just historical structures and landscape design, its what happens in the environment. Although many parents consider sending their child(ren) off to college a gut wrenching loss, one which they may or may not survive, the best part of my year is fall semester when a new freshman class sends their parents back home and happily begin college life. The majority of the time, everyone adjusts. Students find their place in the community and parents adjust, well some parents can tend to have a harder time letting go than their student, but thats different story.

I have always enjoyed school because the structure, order, and rules make sense to me. It feels safe in that environment because I trust that someone is thinking about what is best for me as a student.  This particular Saturday morning I woke up thinking about what it could look like for me to complete a PhD program in something. I hope for the remainder of my professional career, I'm involved with higher education in some way. I want to make sure future generations of students know that someone is looking out for their best interests when it comes to learning. So when I'm feeling dreamy I get out the Google machine and look at programs in Higher Education Administration, Education Policy, Communication, Public Policy, English, Student Affairs, Sociology and whatever looks good that day.

Its a fun project, until I think about taking classes called "Research Methods" AKA Statistics and writing a dissertation but not really writing it, just starting it and ending up with the letters ABD (All But Dissertation) instead of PhD and then I panic and stop but it really is fun up until that point.

Ode to Saturdays

I don't know how to write an ode (please don't tel Mrs. Nolan my AP English teacher) but I really like Saturdays, particularly Saturday mornings and just seemed like it was time to do something to let Saturday know that.


My body's natural alarm clock is set for 6:30am. Its been that way for as long as I can remember. I'm a morning person. I can go to bed at midnight and wake up one my own at 6:30am. I've gone to bed at 3:00am and woke up on my own a t 6:30am. Even though it's annoying at times that I can't have a lie in, over the years, I've really appreciated my Saturday mornings. As I fell asleep last night I was thinking about some of favorite things about Saturday.


Breakfast, first and foremost is one of the events I look forward to the most. During the week breakfast is determined by whats easy and portable and I head off to work. On Saturdays, the chances of me getting bacon increase greatly. Breakfast has always been my favorite meal. I learned how to make pancakes from scratch in grade school and that was the first recipe I ever learned by heart.


Quiet time. The advantage to being up when no one else is a pretty consistent time to be alone with my thoughts. Being the strategic, maximizer, arranger type that I am, I like to have a plan, and a back up plan for that plan and a workable alternative to both of those plans. Saturday mornings give me time to configure. Or stare into space. The choice is mine.


Today I've already enjoyed several hours of quiet time and once the hubs is up there is an Ernie's #3 breakfast in my future.

Sugar free: Agave Nectar

Anyone who knows me can back me up when I say, I am not a spontaneous person. Nor am I lazy. But for reasons I still cannot understand, I keep doing things with little to no thought and no research.

First it was going sugar free. Then it was grabbing a bottle of agave nectar without know exactly what it was or how it would work.  I won't say I was desperate to find something to sweeten my coffee but I will say that after 1 day of drinking my morning coffee straight up, I was open to any and almost all options. 


The weekly trip to my local grocer, Hy-Vee, definitely took longer because I had to read labels of things I would normally just buy, like bread from the bakery. But I was thrilled to find multiple sugar free bread options provided by a local business, Uprise Bakery. I might have gotten carried away and bought a ciabtta and a sourdough loaf. I rationalize my choice because I did plan to use the ciabatta for the Mushroom and Herb Strata and so clearly two different breads were a necessity. 

And all that brings me to the agave nectar because that is where I landed after cherishing my moments with the bread. I had heard of it, once, last weekend,  and I figured I'd buy it because I figured it couldn't make things taste worse. Thankfully, that gamble paid off and I have found a lifelong friend which derives from the same plant as Tequila and boasts a lower glycemic index than honey. Now, if I only knew exactly what "glycemic index" meant.

I'm a suger free lemming

As of today I've given up eating sugar (in the additive, not the fuirt form) for 30 days. I didn't give it a lot of thought. Someone suggested it. I figured can't be that hard and said okay, lets do this. Up until this morning when I tried to eat a organic whole grain waffle that someone decided to produce with honey as an ingredient, I thought it was a pretty good idea. Now, I wonder if this will fall into the category of "it seemed like good idea at the time." 

 

Thoughts while trapped in snow traffic

While I was parked on Maryland Avenue waiting not so patiently to get off campus, after I finished a book and after my phone was about to die, I was left with only my thoughts to entertain me so I grabbed the Moleskine to write them down.

• Dear Lord in heaven, WTF is happening up there? Its a 4-way stop for the love of all that is holy and sacred
• Dude, thank goodness I decided I should start carrying a book with me for times when I might have to wait.
• After realizing I only had 1 chapter left in the book I had: Why didn't I grab a back up book?!
• Man, having a smart phone is nice in a situation like this
• DAMN! I wish I had grabbed my USB cord to charge this stupid phone
• I wish I had a ruler, I would get out and measure the snow. I'm sure that would look weird to people but what do I care. I want to know how deep that is out there
• I never notice how many hills there are until they're covered in snow and backed up traffic and pose potential threats to my forward progress
• Huh, at least that 180 just happened in the empty parking lot
• I wish I had a snack
• OMG! I have grapes in my bag
• There is no way in hell I'm driving anymore once the hubs gets in the car
• If I were in college, I'd totally be making plans to go out the the bars tonight.
• I was stupid in college

And then sweet relief, my driving duties were over.

Miss Independent

My family isn't really big on mementos, storytelling or sentimentality.  Granny, my mom's mom, was the family's matriarch and she didn't tolerate silliness or play or tears or complaining. She lived the motto "Just do it" before anyone knew what Nike was. I know very little about her relationship with my grandfather and for some reason, he popped into my head this morning. My grandfather passed away long before I was born and here was only ever one picture of him in my Granny's house. I don't know why but I swear whenever I asked about him, I was told 1 story, and one story only. So when I say "he popped into my head," I mean this story popped into my head.

At some point, in their later years, there was a night when my grandfather did not return home to the St. Louis city apartment he and Granny shared. At this point in the story, everyone adds in their speculation that he'd be stepping out or that he'd had too much to drink at the local tavern or been out gambling. Either way, he didn't come home. Sometime in the morning, I know its morning because I'm told the sun was up, he's walked up the sidewalk to their old school brick 4 unit apartment building. This is important to know because Granny was waiting for him at the window in the stairwell on the landing between the first and second story which looked out over the walk-way.  As he waled up towards the front door, Granny asks him where he's been, he responds with something that no one has ever found worth remembering or repeating and as he reached for the handle of the front door, Granny reaches down to the floor in front of her and grabs her soup pot, full of the hottest water should could get, maybe even boiling, but no one confirms or denies that, and she then dumps the entire container right onto his head. To my knowledge, the never spoke again because there are no other stories. Not even of his passing or funeral. 

And that is a snapshot of the most influential woman of my childhood. The seething anger, the righteous retaliation, its in my genes (I honestly typed "jeans" first, WTF!?). Thankfully I've learned to identify and manage the anger over the years and am less of the walking rage-ball I used to be but it's a miracle I have any friends or managed to meet a man who felt dangerous enough to marry me. Just from being my life, they're all just one mis-step away from me getting out the soup pot.

It was the best of times

...and it was the best of times. No seriously, last year when I randomly invited a soon-to-be college grad I knew from the office to come live in the new house I was going to buy, I didn't know how hilarious life would be. 

There were lots of things that were unknown but the hubs and I tried to be as open as possible from the beginning, it didn't eliminate the anxiety of returning to the world of housemates but I like to think it set us up for success. Even Sam thought so when she wrote about it here.


It was such a good experience that 6 months later, when Sam is now moving out, I feel so excited for her I could dance and but sad for the changes ahead in our relationship. And as for dancing, I actually did do a little jig today in her new apartment. She went to sign the lease, I tagged along for the momentous occasion and took pictures, like the first day of school, but different.

Sam in her new apartment!

She thought I was taking her picture here but I really wanted to get the thermostat in the photo. The awesome part of Sam moving is that she's moving into the same complex we left before becoming home owners except she got lots of things we didn't like new carpet, new tile-ish vinyl in the kitchen and bath and a thermostat that was not circa 1920.


Another reason I'm excited, is that her new place is a lot closer than Portland, a mere 15 mins away from my place. The hilarity and good times will continue and there will be fewer miles to cross. And hopefully Sam will feed me when the hubs is out of town.

New Obessions

I am currently addicted to the following:

• All things Serena and Lily
• Using Google Reader to manage my blog subscriptions
• Updating my syllabus and course schedule for SSC 1150: Learning Strategies for the College Student
• The Pantone Color of the Year for 2010: Turquoise. I have not yet decided how I feel about the 2011 Color of the Year: Honeysuckle.
• G-chat status updates
• My good friend Jenny introduced me to Young House Love which I loved, then forgot about for awhile, then they bought a new house and are doing it all over again, which brings me right back to where I started from, in awe of this couple and their house obsession.
• My living room. I love the fireplace and sea-foam green sofa. Otherwise I daydream about decorating it with all things Serena and Lily
• The Tulle Vintage Winter Coat I got for $13 dollars after using discounts and credits earned from spending way too much at Banana Republic.
• New bedding from Sam's Club for the guest bedroom (which has come so far from the crap-pile room lovingly known as upstairs left) takes it to a different level. I was worried that this deal was too good to be true but the featherbed, comforter and pillows are divine and machine washable. Come one, come all, we've always got room in the inn.
• Reading chick lit (not to be confused with Chicklit) / playing Diner Dash
  

Is it worth the hassle?

I'm thinking about reformatting my blog again. I'm pretty sure I've given just as much thought to the aesthetics as I have to the content of this this space. I abhor HTML but if I don't get more width up in here, I'm going to fight someone or just quit. 

It also provides a complex distraction to thinking about the year that has passed and coming up with something along the lines of goals for 2011.

Nothing says holiday like Walgreen's

Growing up, I lived in a house owned by my mother's, sister's husband, AKA my uncle. I don't know when it started but as long as I can remember, I've always called my uncle, Uncle. Others called him Uncle Carey or Uncle Cootie but to me he was and still is, just Uncle. It was a great house. A rambling ranch, with a basement. Plenty of room for adults to sit and talk and for kids to tear around like maniacs.  For many years, holiday dinners were hosted at our house and various family members would pile in to take on the ridiculously massive meal my Granny created.  No matter how much planning there had been or how many trips were made to the grocery or butcher no holiday meal was complete without a trip to Walgreen's on the day of. Wax paper, milk, eggs, cheese, plastic wrap, condensed milk, flour, and countless other basic items seemed to always disappear, right when we needed them. Often I'd be thrilled for the chance to ride along because it was a break from the hours of sous chef work I'd put in chopping onions, celery, carrots, and more onions. The best was when was able to drive by myself or take along my younger brother to make the traditional Walgreen's run.


This year, my younger brother came to visit me and the Hubs for Christmas at our house.  The menu was legit: Spiral sliced ham, beef rib roast, mashed sweet potatoes, wild rice pilaf, homemade parker house rolls, creamed spinach an apple chutney and a chocolate-almond torte for desert. We planned the menu a week in advance, we made a list and checked it twice, we shopped a week early and on Christmas day, we totally ran out of almonds. I didn't even have to think about it, I knew the traditional trip to Walgreen's would continue.