Molasses cookies and I have a complicated relationship. Mainly that I deeply love them and they are often really difficult to make. Molasses cookies walk a fine line between chewy and crisp. And you know what I don't like? Crisp cookies. I like soft, chewy, warm, melt-in-your-mouth cookies. None of this crunchy stuff -- I reserve that sensation for popcorn and chips.
How I Became a Schlub -- and Learned to Love It
I should own stock in dry shampoo.
Three years ago, I couldn't imagine going out in less than my best. I dressed up all the time: blazers and jeans, bodycon skirts and sweaters, tights and boots and dresses. As time has passed, my dedication to dressing my best 24/7 has gone away. I find myself wondering how I can get away with wearing the same leggings-and-sweater combo everyday. I debate whether or not I can get away with hitting snooze one more time, not showering, and potentially wearing my pajamas out-and-about. I own an uncomfortable number of leggings and a truly ridiculous number of socks.
As a teenager and college student, I was definitely not a fashionista. I always had ideas about what I wanted to dress like, but I felt very constricted by my body and comfort level. In general, I didn't feel confident enough to wear what I wanted to wear -- including all those punk-inspired outfits that were very popular when I was in high school. By the time I was a junior in college though, I'd gained a lot of self-confidence and that translated into dressing in a way that showed I cared about myself.
That isn't to say not caring is a sign that you're not confident. That's just for me. I felt confident, so I wore what I'd always wanted to wear -- which is no jeans, only dresses, cute skirts, and cute shoes.
That went on for a long time. At the height of my fashion blog, I felt very, very cute and well-dressed all the time.
However, after college, I worked a series of dissatisfying jobs that left me feeling depressed and bored. The longer I worked those dissatisfying jobs, the less I cared about what I wore. I lost a lot of self-discipline and mostly, I lost a lot of self-confidence. I found myself wanting to change my habits -- eating better, working out more, being active, finding a new job, dressing better -- but feeling unable to. I was very stuck; I was very bored; and I was turning into a schlub after a few good years of being, you know, one of those girls who always seemed put together.
It was a hard transition for me, adjusting to the real world. It wasn't something I was prepared for. I went from the happiest time of my life and crash landed into the worst time of my life -- and my self confidence took a hit.
I knew changing jobs wouldn't necessarily change things instantly -- but I was still disappointed when I didn't transform into my old self overnight. It's taken a lot of work, but I'm in a better place now than I have been in probably two and a half years. I still, however, find myself wishing that when I started a job I absolutely love, I would just transform instantly, lose 20 pounds, be able to fit into my old clothes, and restart up my old fashion blog.
You might be wondering, Michelle, why do you now proudly talk about your schlubyness?
Ultimately, people change. The person I was three years ago is not who I am now and no matter how much I want to revert back to that state, I can't do that because I'e been through too much. So while some days, I want to restart my habit of writing lists of outfits for the week, organizing my closet by color, and photographing everything I wear, I know I'm not in a place where I can do that right now.
As my confidence slowly returns, I find myself caring less and less about what I wear -- just because that's who I am right now. There are definitely days where I want to dress up for no reason and I allow myself to have those days. But I no longer beat myself up when I wear the same chevron sweater and leggings two days in a row -- because if that's what I need, then that's what I need.
11 Steps to Being a Good Customer this Holiday Season
A gentle reminder that the Holiday season is a holiday for everyone - not just you.
It's not hard to be a good customer any time of the year. It's especially not hard to be a customer during the Holidays. Here's how.
1. Try your best not to berate sales associates or cashiers. I know, I know, it's a hard impulse to fight, but please, fight it.
2. "The back" is not some kind of magical backstage area of the store. It is also not an identical copy of the store with as many of an item as the store could possibly need. It is not a magical place where fairies make extra stock for the store. Most likely, the back is just a stockroom full of unlabeled cardboard boxes, mannequins that are missing parts, palettes, and mostly unnecessary items that is controlled by one person who only works from midnight to 7am. It's not magic. There are no PS4s or iPhones back there. Stop asking.
3. The proper way to respond to "How are you doing today?" is not "I'm just looking, thanks."
4. Everyone has to wait in line. This is not a conspiracy set up to hurt and delay only you.
5. Don't show up to a store 10 minutes before it closes on Christmas Eve and expect to get stellar service. Everyone wants you to leave. No one loves you at that moment.
6. "You've ruined my Christmas!" is potentially the funniest thing you can say to anyone, because a) no, b) you ruined your own Christmas, and c) no one really cares.
7. Saying "thank you" and "I really appreciate it" are free. And say them nice. Thank you. (See? So easy!)
8. The roads are crowded. The weather is bad. You're cold. Your feet hurt. You want to be home with your family. Imagine how that cashier halfway through a shift feels.
9. If someone says "Happy Holidays" to you, and you don't like it, keep it to yourself. If someone says "Merry Christmas" to you, and you don't like it, keep it to yourself. Guess what? They're saying it with good intentions -- not specifically to offend you. Sort your life out.
10. Don't shop on Christmas Eve.
11. I'm serious, do not shop on Christmas Eve.
25 Ways to Take Care of Yourself
Step 1: Fill your coffee cup with raspberries instead of delicious, jitter-inducing coffee. Just kidding, drink coffee.
1. Track down every article you've ever read of Gala Darling's about things to do when you need cheering up and promptly decide you don't have the time or money to do any of those things.
2. In the process, find another article that suggests, in about 6 different ways, that you "take a bath."
3. Think But I just showered? and decide to not, in fact, take a bath.
4. Scroll through Tumblr and grow increasingly confused on what teenagers are doing these days. (Tag a new post #OLD and sigh)
5. Go to Facebook, look up someone you knew seven years ago, and pretend to act stunned when they have two kids.
6. Secretly rejoice that you don't have two kids. (Unless you do have two kids and then rejoice that you have your kids and not their kids, right?)
7. Brew a pot of coffee and sit on the couch wishing you could be one of those girls that Instagrams their coffee in really cute, pretty ways - like on their lap with a beautiful blanket, a perfectly manicured hand curled around the coffee cup's handle. Like they just live on a couch with a beautiful plaid blanket and beautiful books. Meanwhile, your dog has chewed up the corners of every pillow and blanket you own.
8. Take out the trash and wonder why under your sink smells. Decide it's because you accidentally bought Febreeze-scented garbage bags that smell surprisingly like trash. Good luck, you have about 100 of those things left. Thanks, Costco.
9. Watch Bones for an hour. Get annoyed whenever the season with Hannah starts.
10. Think of ways to use all 10 of the coupons American Eagle sent you. Decide to use none of them.
11. Open your journal. Resist the urge to write "I AM SO BORING" on every page.
12. Take a bath even though you decided you didn't really want to take one.
13. Start rereading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban for approximately the 50th time.
14. Get mad every time you see Remus Lupin's name. (He deserved so much more.)
15. Practice deep breathing exercises recommended to you months ago that make you worry you have diminished lung capacity.
16. Eat handfuls of Skinny Pop popcorn while aggressively cleaning the kitchen.
17. Read another self-care article. Worry that you aren't doing this self-care thing right.
18. Google Search: "Self-care that does not include weird stuff." No results.
19. Organize your planners and notebooks one more time. Fret that you aren't organized enough. Vow to become one of those people that scrapbooks their life in Filofaxes.
20. Fret that you are way too boring to scrapbook your life in a Filofax.
21. Play video games and get frustrated at your inability to use a make-believe weapon.
22. Throw a ball for your dog outside. Think blissfully that this is your style of self-care. Watch your dog get hit in the face with a leaf. Laugh at him.
23. Lie on the couch and watch Ina Garten. Plan a life where you move to the Hamptons and throw extravagant dinner parties. Wonder how you will finance this life.
24. Play the Ina Garden drinking game with your husband. Lose the drinking game after Ina tells you to use "good cognac" in a recipe.
25. Write a listicle about self-care while Googling more self-care articles. Decide it's probably just best to chill out.
5 Lessons I Learned from NaNoWriMo 2014
When I was in high school, I was obsessed with this quote:
“If I lose the light of the sun, I will write by candlelight, moonlight, no light. If I lose paper and ink, I will write in blood on forgotten walls. I will write always. I will capture nights all over the world and bring them to you.”
Ugh. (Except I still kind of love that quote, even though the older I get, the more insufferable I find dear old Henry.) But I think this speaks to something all writers go through: young writers tend to be very dramatic, caught up the romance of writing, the feeling of it, the mystery, the potential. Then those young writers grow up, spend a lot of time writing, and realize that the writers they once idolized are not mysterious, romantic types, but rather neurotic, weird, and pretty self-deprecating. Some people pull it off, but in general, it's hard to be a cool, self-confident writer, as much as we all kind of want to be that way.
If NaNoWriMo teaches us anything each year, it's that: 1. lots of people want to be writers, like lots of people; 2. writing is hard; and 3. November will forever be the month of extremely bad days, late nights, and emotional breakdowns, al thanks to NaNoWriMo. Besides that, here's what I learned this month:
1. I write best with direction.
If you ever wonder what kind of person I am, here is a brief summary: I am someone who respects authority and rules, but I absolutely hate being told what to do. Ta-da, I am a vortex of contradiction. I've always thought I wrote best without direction -- my last few NaNoWriMo novels were done with approximately zero planning and I thought that worked best. Add any parameters, I thought, and I won't be able to meet word counts without wanting to throw myself off a cliff. Man, I was wrong. Like, really wrong.
This year, I decided to test myself and write an outline. And let me tell you, for two weeks, I did amazing. I followed my outline; I hit goal after goal, keeping myself consistently 2-4 days ahead and not taking any breaks. But then, I had a moment of I'm a punk kid for life yo! and decided to make a change halfway through my novel that basically made half of the outline I'd written obsolete.
Guess what happened? The last week and a half of writing, I struggled to meet word counts; I added really useless scenes to make up for the fact that things on my outline no longer made sense with the changes I'd made; and I spent a lot of time bouncing between characters, making them do weird stuff (I wrote a two-page scene of a character grocery shopping for no reason) and generally ruining everything. All because I went of my outline. I need an outline, guys, and I need to reign in my intense and only occasional punk feelings.
2. I write best at night.
"Tomorrow, I'm going to wake up at 6am, work out, and then work on NaNoWriMo," I said, tucking myself into bed with a smug grin on my face. Absolute lies. I'd wake up approximately 8 hours later, roll over, and fall back asleep. Long story short, I refuse to get up early for lots of things, but writing is apparently one of those things. I'll get up early for vacations, work out sessions, and my birthday -- but nothing else.
I often found myself doing my best writing after 7:30pm. In college, I usually did a majority of my writing in the evening, so this actually makes sense. I like to think I'm a morning person, but I'm a morning person in the sense that I feel most motivated to get stuff I hate done (like laundry, emptying the dishwasher, and vacuuming). I don't necessarily want to do anything else in the early morning hours except work out and drink coffee.
3. Support from others really does help.
Fun fact: I hate talking about my writing with other people. It makes me really uncomfortable. It's like standing in front of them in my underwear. It's like having a therapy session with them. Whenever I'm doing NaNoWriMo, I try to will other people not to ask me. Don't ask, don't ask, I scream internally, every time someone starts to ask. People always do those because NaNoWriMo is weird and cool and seems exhausting (it is all of those things) and they want to know.
I'm incredibly, stupidly shy about my writing. But support really does help. Support from coworkers, from Danny, from friends on Facebook. Support helped motivate me to finish because so many people were expecting me to. If nothing else, I'm really easy to pressure into doing anything because of my peers.
4. I thought all my past novels were awful, but they're not totally bad.
About halfway through NaNo, I looked back at some of my past novels. My novel from last year (Runner's High, thanks for that title clinically depressed 2013 Michelle) is totally horrid in most parts, but my novel from my senior year of college (Succotash, which is a way better title) is surprisingly good. It lacks any sort of plot and reminds me a lot of Catcher in the Rye (shout out to my high school self, I guess), but it has a lot of material that I feel like I could maybe... possibly... potentially use. Hope is not lost, friends.
5. I can't wait for next year.
At the end of every November, I find myself saying, "I am NOT doing that again!" because I'm so tired from writing and bored and aggravated with myself because I've just creatively beaten myself up for 30-some days. But then, I go a week without a NaNoWriMo goal or deadline or idea and I find myself blissfully excited for next November...
I Won NaNoWriMo & All I Got was a Certificate
At least send me a free cake or something, jeez.
I hit 50,000 words (ok, technically 50,400 according to my official NaNoWriMo validation) at just before 9pm the day before Thanksgiving.
(I actually wrote this blog post barely 20 minutes after finishing. What can I say? I gotta blog it.) This marks the earliest I have ever finished NaNoWriMo and the first time I can actually say I've written a novel that might be something I would read (if it was completely rewritten, edited, and changed... maybe by someone more competent than myself).
When you finish a monumental task like writing 50,000 words, you want there to be fanfare -- but there is usually not. In fact, you might find yourself staring at a computer screen with a web banner on it (pictured above) and a download for a digital certificate thinking, I wrote 50,000 for this!? My reaction was visceral and ridiculous, but I found myself wanting to demand balloons. Flowers! Confetti! Where was my party? Someone throw me a party! I wanted to scream on Twitter.
Nope, all I got was a certificate, just like always, and an apparent inability to distinguish their and there (what can I say? I've written 6,000+ words as I type this and I've switched "there" with "their" twice). (I can only imagine the errors that are in my novel.)
Here is the brief synopsis I gave my friend about my novel:
“Buffalo is about a farming community in Oregon that experienced a murder and how the community responded. The title refers to the murderer’s obsession with buffalo as the spirit of the west and his thought of himself as a “buffalo” (basically: that which remains despite adversity).”
It sounds good when you put it like that, but mostly, it just looks like word vomit right now. When I got halfway through the novel, I realized I had no explanation whatsoever for the title I'd chosen -- I just really like one-word powerful titles and I like the sound of the word buffalo. I added in a bit about how the murderer identified with buffalo in this weird, obsessive way and basically left it at that.
You gotta do what you gotta do.
As much as I joke though, I'm so proud to have completed NaNoWriMo for the fourth (really!?) time. I've written 50,000 words four times. That's 200,000 words! If I actually got my s*** together, I could probably write a decent 50,000 words in a few months (but, given my track record, that would take a lot of chutzpah on my part).
More than anything, I've proved something to myself and that is this: I'm good enough. I'm good at this. I can do this. On a day-to-day basis I often don't feel very good about what I do -- I generally think I'm a pretty terrible writer that has somehow gotten people to think I'm a somewhat decent writer. More than anything, NaNoWriMo has allowed me to show myself, just one more time, that, as Mary Oliver said in "Wild Geese," "I do not have to be good."
5 Things I'm Thankful For & Not Just on Thanksgiving
My husband finds it difficult to make what I consider normal faces in photos and I'm learning to accept this fact.
I'm not a preachy person. I genuinely believe that most people know they've got it good (if they do have it good) and that occasional complaining does not mean someone doesn't appreciate what they have.
That being said, I think everyone could do with being just a teensy bit more thankful -- and not just on Thanksgiving. Every year, people trot out their I'm so thankful! feelings and then blissfully forget about them on Black Friday, that sacred holiday marked mostly by stampedes and hysterical fights of televisions. We should be thankful all the time, not just on Thanksgiving.
And because I'm a massive hypocrite, here are 5 things I'm thankful for all the time (not just today).
1. My Husband.
I'm having kind of a rough patch right now. I have a lot of unexplained stress (ok, some of it is explained) and other issues. My husband and I had planned to travel for Thanksgiving, but as the day approached, I just couldn't do it. With everything else, the thought of driving 8 hours and spending a hectic (but fun!) three days with his family made me want to curl into the fetal position and cry. If Thanksgiving had fallen last week, I would have been there in a minute. But this week? I just couldn't. My husband was sad, but he also understood. He made me promise him that I would spend the next few days relaxing, taking care of myself, and spending time with him and Remus. It was a promise that was way too easy to make.
2. Remus.
Here's why I love Remus: when he puts his ears back in his "I'm Happy!" face, he looks like Dobby; a fly was annoying me while I was writing on my NaNoWriMo novel so he caught it and ate it; he accidentally gut-punched me so hard in the stomach Wednesday morning and then immediately punished himself by going to the patio door and sitting outside for 10 minutes, clearly contemplating what he was doing with his life. (That last bit might be a conjecture on my part.) Danny and I often make fun of Remus for his smelly farts, his general goofiness, and his lack of awareness -- but he's my furbaby, always and forever, and his face will never fail to make me happy.
3. My Mom & Dad
On Monday, I had a truly terrible day. I spent two hours with my mom, talking and letting her make me feel better. The next day, I stopped by again (who said living near your parents wasn't a good thing?) and my dad loaded my car with firewood. My parents are the best parents in the world and yes, I will fight you on that one.
4. My House.
This is kind of a duh one, but sometimes, I just really need to appreciate that I own a house. I live in a house that is warm and extremely airtight, has a wood stove, has a pretty baller kitchen, and has enough space to hold all my slightly pack-rat worldly possessions. I also have a garage, and an extra freezer full of beef, and a backyard, and a front yard, and a really great view. I live in Rivendell and you cannot tell me that isn't awesome.
5. My Body.
I spend a lot of time ragging on this body of mine. I want to squish it into pants that don't fit, skirts I used to love. I make it run; I make it do 100 lunges; I make it lift weights and go grocery shopping and eat chicken and cauliflower rice. And yet, I never sit and appreciate the things my body does for me: it keeps my brain alive, it stays healthy (even when it malfunctions occasionally), and it keeps moving despite all the stupid crap I put it through. My body is imperfect, but it's mine and it's gotten me this far, so it can't be that bad, right? Now, I'm going to stuff it full of rolls, turkey, and cookies and you cannot stop me.
I'm An Adult & I Love Disneyland
C'mon, admit it, you love Disneyland too!
I'm not weird. You're weird. Who doesn't love Disneyland?
Ok. Whatever. I guess some people don't like Disneyland and I'm not saying you're abnormal or joyless... but... yeah.
Just kidding. To each their own. Which is why I take extreme joy in Disneyland. I mean, it's kind of everything I love: chocolate covered pineapple skewers? Check! Giant rice crispies? Yup. Pretzels? Aw yeah, fast food Bavarian style. Semi-spooky, cutesy stuff? In droves.
I'm an adult and I refuse to stop enjoying Disneyland.
It's picturesque! I mean, look, that's a place you want to visit, right? Just kidding, it will never be this empty.
Actual words I have said to my husband: "It's ok to like stuff just for the sake of it, Danny." I said this half in jest, but half serious too. Sometimes, I feel like we're all trying so hard to be cool and hip and fun that we let that get in the way of genuinely enjoying stuff. Sometimes, it's ok to like stuff just because you do. You don't need an explanation for it.
There is a reason we all kinda love pop songs (or at least why they get stuck in our heads so easily). There is a reason that fast food tastes amazing to 85%+ of the population. There is a reason why a majority of people enjoy Disneyland vacations (even if they might not want to repeat them over and over again). It's because some things are just designed for mass enjoyment. And if you enjoy those things, it doesn't mean you're a stupid sell out. It means you're a human with ears that can hear reasonably well, taste buds that enjoy fat and salt in high amounts, and a person that was once a child who watched an Aladdin sing-a-long tape at least twice a day. (Maybe only me on that last one.)
Even Walt looks happy to be there!
Disneyland is the fast food of travel. It's easy. Everyone thinks it's cheaper than it is, but it's actually kind of stupid expensive. (Fast food adds up, y'all!) There is a pre-determined menu and not a lot of leeway. You go to Disneyland. You stay in a hotel. You stand in lines. You maybe get frustrated. You eat a churro. You feel like you ate a brick for the rest of the day.
What's not to love about that?
Here's the thing: in the wrong environment, Disneyland can totally be a nightmare. If you go into Disneyland saying that you hate lines, that you hope it's not crowded, that crowds make you miserable, etc., etc., you're basically setting the stage to be miserable. I hate to break this to you, but here's the big secret: it's freaking Disneyland. There are always going to be lines. There are always going to be other people. It's freaking Disneyland. You're not walking to the park.
If you approach Disneyland with the idea that you're there to have fun -- and dammit, you're gonna have fun no matter what happens -- then undoubtedly you will have fun. If you, like me, walk into the parks just overjoyed to be there, then you're going to enjoy yourself. Half the fun is just being at Disneyland. Everything is themed and organized and clean and perfect (this is my dream world, clearly); how can you not at least enjoy it?
lol @ all of these pictures featuring empty walkways.
Lots of people don't like Disneyland. Ok, that's fine, you do you, yo! I'm sure you enjoy lots of other stuff that people might find embarrassing, like scream-cry-singing to Taylor Swift in your car or putting sriracha sauce on everything even though it tastes like nothing (I went there, bring it). Do I judge you for that? Yes, a little, but I'll stop if you'll stop judging me for being an adult who loves Disneyland.
It's ok to be an adult who loves Disneyland. It is. It's ok. It's ok to cry to Taylor Swift songs in your car, eat too much hot sauce, make stale jokes about bacon, eat fast food, buy a mass-produced sweater, and go to Disneyland. It's okay to enjoy things just because you enjoy them.