I actually have a tree this year.  Lights, no ornaments, because my cats are, well, cats.

For Christmas day, I’m going to the folks’ and bringing orange white chocolate chip rolls (some with dried cranberries) that I’ve made and have frozen (uncooked), and I’m also going to make a loaf of Santa Bread.  (Seriously, so cute.)  I’m sincerely hoping it doesn’t turn out hideous.

Speaking of holidays, my only real weight loss goal for this season is to not gain weight.  I think I’ve mentioned I’ve been on My Fitness Pal for awhile now–and have lost 4 pounds so far.  But until January, it’s okay so long as I just maintain.

Plus, in honor of Christmas, J.K. Rowling has a 12 days of Christmas thing on Pottermore.  It’s fantastic!  Answer a riddle and get a new scene, every day!  I’ve already made a new potion–Doxycide, but have to wait until I have more time to make the Shrinking Potion.  So great.  I love Harry Potter.

I’m really dissatisfied with life lately.

And how wrong is misandry, really?  The article I linked to would say pretty bad.  But sometimes I fear it’s true–that I do truly hate men in general.  (I do not connect misandry with my feminism–not in the slightest.  I connect it with life experiences and a tendency to believe the worst about people.)

Bear in mind: I don’t hate all men.  I have men in my life who I like quite a bit, in fact.  This is a very generic sort of feeling that can be overcome.

The Kinsey Scale says that sexuality falls on a sliding scale, that few are 100% heterosexual or 100% homosexual.  The Klein Sexual Orientation Grid suggests that sexuality can change over time and is much more fluid than we sometimes believe.

You can connect the dots because I have to go wash dishes and head to bed.  (Ugh, dishes.)

My cats are whiners.

There are too many thoughts sometimes.

And why are other people so awful so often?

I want to cloister myself away and only surround myself with those who are dear to me.

I constantly feel as though I say or do the wrong thing, usually with good intentions.  I always feel as though I should be over that by now–either the doing so or the feeling so.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever leave my organization, or if I’ll just keep answering phones for the rest of my life.  I mean, what if that’s all I am actually capable of doing?  Sure, I can aspire to maybe an office manager someday, elsewhere, but could I move out of this context?  Where I am, it is doubtful if something will open up–although not impossible.  But how long should I wait?  Should I?  On the other hand, it is not as if there are other opportunities just waiting to snatch me up.  And I like where I am…  Sigh.

I want a shinier version of my life.  I want to be energetic, friendly, outgoing, fun.  I want to not be afraid of making new friends, meeting new people.  But these things are not who I am.  Maybe I should just want to be me and be content with that.  I’m going to blame December for my present gloominess.

Unrequited love is an interesting thing, isn’t it?  I think I like it better than actual, returned, two-way love.  That must say something about me–and nothing good.  But returned love (speaking of romantic love, of course) is messy and nothing I’ve ever really experienced.  It’s one of those unknowns that the universe may or may not have in store for me.


I made this yesterday to have for breakfast a few days this week.  It is so incredibly delicious that I thought I should share it with you.  The original recipe was taken from The Kitchn.  But I made a few changes.

1/2 cup farro, semi-pearled
1 cup water
1/8-1/4 tsp salt
2 small apples, cored, peeled, & chopped into small cubes
1-2 tsp butter
1 tsp cinnamon
2 tsp maple syrup
1/4 cup dried cranberries
1/4 cup walnuts, chopped
3/4 cup plain Greek yogurt (for serving)

Combine farro, water, and salt in pan. Set timer to 30 minutes.  Bring to boil, then let simmer, covered, until plump.

While farro is cooking, saute apples in butter for about 5 minutes.  Add cinnamon, cranberries, and walnuts.  Stir in maple syrup.  Let cook a few minutes on medium-low until warmed and combined.

Divide farro into three equal portions.  Top with three equal portions of apple mixture.  Mix in 1/4 cup Greek yogurt per serving.

It reheats wonderfully–obviously don’t add the yogurt until you’re ready to eat it.

And for another farro recipe, check this one out: One Pan Farro with Tomatoes.  The only differences I made were using 3 roma tomatoes instead of cherry tomatoes, adding 1/2 (?) tsp chili powder instead of red pepper flakes, and adding a can of kidney beans.  I left off the cheese and used dried basil when I added the chili powder.

Apparently I’m all about the farro lately. (I bought a bag of it this weekend, so have been looking up recipes.)


The fudge was a dismal failure.  I’ve never had something turn out quite that bad before–I’m inclined to blame the recipe, because I’ve successfully made many candy recipes in the past.  That’s okay, though.  There has to be a few food failures in life.

I spent the day in town yesterday with a friend.  It was great, despite the freezing cold weather.  We had coffee, shopped, ate mini donuts.  Then we watched Hedwig and the Angry Inch.  I feel as though its one of those movies you need to watch more than once to really get the feel of it.  But that to say, it was good.

I also made a fantastic biscotti recipe yesterday.  My lands it is good.

What is it about holidays that is designed to make you feel terrible?

Ugh.  If I could boycott every one of them, I would.  But I can’t.  And so, like a sucker, I fool myself into thinking that this year will be different, this holiday will be better.  It almost never is.  (On rare occasion, I get a good holiday, which only serves to give me false hope.)  Not that this one was the worst I’ve had–not by a long shot.

I had a mini pity party for myself tonight.  I cried on the way home and while washing the dishes I’d left myself this morning. And then I decided to buck up, put on some of my favourite music, and make a trial batch of fudge from a new-to-me recipe I’d found.  (It’s supposed to be older and more authentic: no marshmallows in this one!  Right now, it’s cooling so that I can add the final ingredients.)

But, anyway, I think I am just really feeling the loneliness of my self-chosen life.  And feeling the lack of being anyone’s favourite.  I know that one is silly, but I’ve never been anyone’s actual favourite person, and I can’t help but still want it.  It’s so stupid.  I’m 32: I should totally be over that.


I’m sick of only bad news in the news.

I’m also sick of reading articles about why we need feminism.  Not because I am not a feminist myself (as you should know by now that I am), but because it never changes.  Rape culture, patriarchy, stupidity…  UGH.  The other day I posted a thing on facebook that simply said we need to start respecting women for being human, not because they are sisters or mothers or daughters or wives.  And the only people who commented were men who quickly took up defensive postures to announce that respect is a two way street–that men need respect, too.  (No shit, Sherlock–not that this is a problem for most of them…)  My god: is it necessary to be so defensive of anything that might elevate a woman to your level?  (Automatic respect due to the penis.)

Enough on that. I’ll just get worked up again.  And I get too upset to even attempt to be clear, concise, eloquent… I just want to slap them all and tell them to learn to use their brains.  (This is everyone who doesn’t get it, not just men.)

I think I might have too much angst toward men to date them.  (Truth.)

Eugh. Bedtime.

Sometimes I am just so tired of being alone.  This weekend is one of those times.  I just get to thinking about all the things I do alone, and how it so often would be much better with another person.

I mean, I think this until I imagine someone else’s mess (dishes, laundry, lack of general tidiness).

But making and eating food together, sharing cups of coffee in the morning, movies in the evening, and someone around to talk about life.

And I have this rotten desire to be in love.  I don’t know if its because I have so many friends for whom their love life is going splendidly or if it’s just one of those times.  It’s been a long time since I’ve loved anyone in that way.

I don’t want to be this person, though.  I want to be the person who is one hundred percent satisfied with being by herself.  I think I am most of the time, but I want to be all of the time.  I’m 32 and a failure at dating–what other options do I really have? (ha ha)

I could get a roommate, but I’m sort of over having roommates unless they’re the type you’re also sleeping with. (Just saying.)

That’s all, really.  I just sort of wanted to put this out into the universe.  It’s nothing new, but it’s where I find myself.  Again.

I really love the saying, “In for a penny, in for a pound.”  (A more recent version might be, “Go big or go home.”)  I think it could be one of my life mottoes.  [Unfortunately, when it comes to food, it is a terrible thing.  As in, if I go over my calorie limit by anything significant, I see no reason to stop further eating.  Ahem.]

I’m getting ready to start working on Christmas cards.  Sadly, there will not be another “family” picture this year–it is simply too hard to get a picture with both cats in it (as well as myself).  They do not cooperate.  Perhaps next year I will find the gumption again.  ha.  But, anyway, it’s hard to believe the holidays are just around the corner.  Before you know it, it’ll be 2015.  I’m really not ready.

In other news, I haven’t shaved my legs in over a month, and it is glorious.  The more I think about it, the more stupid it seems that we women find ourselves stuck in such ridiculous conventions.  What reason could there possibly be for us to continually scrape the hair off of our legs?  Men are allowed to be as hairy as they like.  Au natural, as it were.  But women are supposed to be devoid of hair–why??  I am not the first to question this, nor shall I be the last.  And I make no promises about my ability to not cave into social pressure–especially come summer.  That’s when I really have a hard time staying strong.  Mostly because I work in an office and love skirts/dresses.  In my non-work life, I don’t really care.  But I do often think that if all of us just stood together and said, “no more!” that societal expectations would have to change.

“But I know I’m gonna change that tune, when I’m back on top, back on top in June.”  Thanks, Sinatra, for explaining things so well.


I recently started using my dining room table again, at least for breakfast.  It’s easy to forgo it, living alone.  But there’s something so nice about sitting at the table with breakfast, a cup of coffee, and whatever book I’m currently reading.  It just feels better.

I’m counting down every week, for no other reason than to wish for the weekend.  I think I should plan a mini vacation (staycation, probably) at some point after the holidays.  I think I just need more than a couple or few days to rejuvenate.  And perhaps to feel like I have the time to work on some projects I’ve had on the back burner.

Also, I wish that cheese didn’t have so many calories in it.  I’m using myfitnesspal with work friends, trying to lose the weight I’ve allowed to creep on, and it’s a great app, but so condemning.  And cheese is just so delightful–I keep daydreaming of all sorts of comforting, delicious dishes, like mac & cheese or grilled cheese sandwiches.  But the calories!  Sigh.


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