Delusional from all of The Stress.

Stress is not my friend... my friends.

When I get overwhelmed, I stress and get anxious and testy and irritable and just... every negative characteristic that a normally lovely person could embody. As of right now, at 9:18pm on Monday before Thanksgiving night, I am 52 kinds of stressed. It has made me a not pretty person the last few days, and that is something that I am surely not proud of. I'm working on balance, but again, like the stress, I don't do balance very well... which often leads to the stress.

There are so many things that I have to get done this week that I sat down at work today and had to make a list. The really sad thing is, I had so many things that needed to get done spinning around in my head that I couldn't even figure out what to write down first. While I may not handle The Stress well, I am Queen of the Lists. Lists make my world go round, and with so much calmness and togetherness and rationale. Lists just make sense, and I'm good at them. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but my boss has told me on multiple occasions that my ability to organize and give a sense of order to things is/was one of my selling points. As easy as it is for me to make the lists, it's actually getting things on the list checked off that freaks me out.

(Goodness gracious could I possibly be rambling anymore about absolutely nothing? Bless your heart if you're still reading.)

Anywho, my list. What I have to get done between now and Saturday afternoon created a three page list. Three pages, my friends. There's shopping and returning things, wrapping gifts, running errands, going to the grocery store two more times, cooking dinners for us, packing lunches, making my cornbread dressing and stuffed mushrooms for Thanksgiving, and making my five appetizers that I (crazily/nuttily/insanely) volunteered to bring to the baby shower Saturday. Overwhelmed is an understatement. Brian's been great at helping and not complaining a bit, but he's also studying for the CFA exam (which he takes December 4th-- prayers, fingers crossed, wishful thoughts-- any/all of the above would be so appreciated!), so I feel guilty asking for too much help... so I'm powering through it and trying to be Super Girlfriend, which basically means I will collapse in an exhausted heap and stay in my pajamas all day Sunday.

I'd just like to note that this is all done in the name of love and good impressions. Brian's mom's best friends are hosting the shower, so all of his family and family friends will be there (it's a couples shower, so legitimately everyone). Even though I've met them all numerous, countless times before, I'm still geared up with making all of the apps because I envision everyone snacking on my crostini and rosemary skewers, saying "Wow, these are a-ma-zing. Who made these?! Katie did? Wow Bri-- you're such a lucky guy!!"

Perhaps I'm delusional, but it's thoughts like these that I entertain myself with that keep me a-goin'!

A girl's gotta have her shoes!

My happy place has finally been found. After (literally) weeks of boot hunting, I have found two pairs of boots (basic black and brown) that I absolutely adore.

Let me preface this post by sharing the fact that I am one of the most indecisive people on the face of the earth. I am a little nervous about the day when I'll have to start planning a wedding, because Oh, have mercy! I can only imagine all of the decisions to be made.

As a general rule, I check out most things online before I actually make the purchase. If something is proven (or supported in a general consensus amongst other shopaholics such as myself) to be worthy of purchase, I typically have no problem swiping my card. I'm a big fan of investment pieces, such as spending a bit more on a good coat or a pair of boots in a sensible color that can be worn with many outfits, in many different situations, on many different occasions. As much as I may love a bright red peacoat or taxicab yellow rainboots, I know in my heart of hearts that a) as cute as they may look on that celebrity that I spotted them on, there's a low chance that I could pull the look off, and b) I don't have the option of owning 10 different coats and 10 different pairs of rainboots that may match whatever I need them to match for the day. And so I shop sensibly and buy what I like and think is cute and flattering, but I also always always keep in mind how much wear I can get out of the piece, how sensible it is, and how long it will last me. In this case, once I'm home with my purchase, I'm giddy and gleeful and peek in the shopping bag like a kid checking out their new toys-- I'm in love.

However, if I have doubts about a potential purchase or, even worse, buyers remorse after the fact, I dwell. I dwell and I hem and I haw over it until Brian reaches his Limit of Toleration (which I am SO good at testing) and tells me to please just make the return that I know I want to make. And so I do. I return it and feel less guilty and know that I made the right decision, and that all is right with the world.

And then I go shopping again and the cycle starts all over again.

When I started out on my boot hunt, I was desperate for a pair of brown riding boots. Now, if I had an unlimited budget, I'd have these babies on my feet as we speak:

In a moment of shoppers excitement, I sent Brian the link one day at work. His immediate response? "You'd better get cracking on selling that book." What a buzzkill-er. Anyways, considering I do not currently have $300-400 of disposable income on my hands, I did not make a Frye purchase. However, I cannot honestly promise that I won't strong-arm my someday babies into the whole equestrian activity so Mama can wear her Frye boots to their practices. And seriously? They have a kids line. Small Frye. They're the tiniest, most adorable little boots ever, and I almost cannot stand the cuteness. Small Frye = genius on the marketing front.

Knowing that my loved ones would appreciate Christmas gifts and that my student loans must continue to be paid, I moved on to more budget-friendly options (i.e. I hit up Macy's and DSW). In all honesty, as much as I love to shop, shoe shopping stresses me out. It all goes back to the sensibility question of the considered shoe. Yes, that is an a-ma-zing red pump, but where on earth where you wear them? Do you own anything that matches that? Well of course red is your color, but can they match that color red for the cast you'll need when you fall and break a limb because have you SEEN that heel? So I stand there and debate and stress myself out and leave empty-handed because my poor little mind can only handle so much in a day.

Macy's and DSW are widely varied in their salesperson tactics-- while DSW is just a big open room with tons of shoes and no salespeople to be found, Macy's employees (and I mean nothing negative to any of you who may be employed by Macy's) have tended to be hawks when it comes to shoe-selling. A co-worker told me that they work off of commission, which would explain why they hover while you browse. No offense, but when I'd like to try on a shoe, I'll let you know. Also, when I tell you what I'd like to try on, please do not bring me different shoes in different colors because you're sure I'll like them as well. Lastly, once I have a shoe and the connection looks promising, leave me be for a few moments. If I'm making this purchase, I've gotta bond with the footwear.

After ordering a pair of boots online and returning them... after buying a pair of boots from Macy's and returning them... after perusing the internet for hours upon hours for the perfect fall/winter boots that I could wear to work/dinner/to walk around comfortably, with jeans/work pants/tights/leggings, under bottoms or with legs tucked into them... I came away with these:

(Excuse the "zoom in" part. I had to do a print screen and crop this because I couldn't just copy/paste... all in the name of love and fashion, my dears).This has been an arduous journey, my friends. My poor boyfriend, who I'm sure I will owe for the forseeable future, has been dragged/tagged along to so many different shoe stores, all of which had previously ended in leaving with zero purchases. As I paced and made laps around the displays, he curled into a corner playing Angry Birds, insisting that he felt weird camping out in Women's Shoes... and he probably did. Good sport that he is, though, he survived and fully supports my purchases. After the intensity of this search, I fully intend on wearing the ever-loving soles out of these boots, and just as soon as I get an outfit rounded up to wear them, I'll share the look with y'all!

Funny that a pair of really nice shoes
makes us feel good in our heads-
at the extreme opposite end of our bodies.
-Levende Waters

Oh, how I love the Christmas cards...

Christmas is probably my favorite time of year. Scratch that-- it is ABSOLUTELY my favorite time of year! All of the decorations, Christmas music, the festiveness (red and green are both SO my colors), the cheery spirit that just seems to take (most) people over, the true meaning and reason of Christmas... and the Christmas cards. Holy goodness am I a fan of the Christmas card. Growing up, I was a compulsive mailbox-checker, so excessively much that I would race to see what mail might have come. Catalogs, shopping coupons... all good, exciting things. But a Christmas card could just seal the deal on a good day, or turn a bad day right-side up.

When I was younger, the photo Christmas cards were just starting to become the "in" thing. Nowadays, I swear that's the only thing that I ever see! I love getting to see how much families have changed and grown from year to year, and this year I am fully jumping on the Shutterfly photo Christmas card bandwagon! Now that I've moved away from home and see my friends and family so rarely, I absolutely cannot wait to pick out my Christmas cards for this season and get them in the mail! Since it's a little unofficial to send a card with a picture of me and Brian (i.e. there's no way that would go over with The Boy quite yet), I fully intend to stick a picture of our beloved Boxer (at home, in Texas, because no, we still do not have a dog), Lucy, accessorized with some sort of Christmas goodness, on the front of my card and deck some people's halls!

Shutterfly offers so many perfectly Christmas-y options for your cards. Even better, they're offering an A-MA-ZING holiday card deal for bloggers! I'm not going to share my pick quite yet, but these are just a few of my favorites!

I mean seriously-- how stinking adorable are these?! In addition to the countless options for Christmas cards, Shutterfly also has tons of other products-- I'm a personal fan of the following:

Everyone's favorite part-- the Christmas cards!

I'm a big fan of the personalized wall calendar. Hello! to using all of the pictures that I take!!

What better to decorate your card than personalized address labels?!

Get moving, my friends! Considering the stores all skipped Thanksgiving and moved right from Halloween to Christmas, there's not much time to dawdle!!

Celtics, Bruins, sweet potato fries... Oh yes, and free Christmas-ness!!

There are a ton more Celtics pictures on my camera, so as soon as I find my camera cord, I'll post them. Until then, here is my best phone picture:

I mean, was I right or was I right about our amazing seats? Totally could have run out onto the floor.

In other news, how on earth is it already Sunday night?

When I still lived at home, Sunday was my absolute favorite day of the week. My mom would have a pot roast or something else deliciously yummy cooking away in the oven all day, football would be playing non-stop on the TV, we would all be winding down from the weekend yet gearing up for the week ahead... it always just felt like our family day.

Now that Brian and I live together, I'm working really hard to continue that Sunday tradition. While Brian sleeps in, I usually hit the gym pretty early, pick-up our coffees on the way home, fix us breakfast, then settle down for a bit to plan my day. It's when I do my laundry, run my errands, do the grocery shopping, do a bit of cleaning, and always always have a good dinner on the table that night. We get all cozy and watch a few of our DVR shows, then head to bed. Yummy candles are burning all day, the bathroom gets cleaned, the sheets get changed, the floors are vacuumed, the laundry is done... and the house smells like whatever has been cooking all day. My Mama (and MawMaw) would be SO proud.

However, as much as I love Sundays, I do NOT look forward to Monday mornings. Today I actually skipped the gym and slept in until 9:30, which felt SO good. Remember that little cold that I mentioned I felt coming on? Yea, it turned into a full-fledged sinus infection and wiped me out this weekend. Once we got home on Friday night, I curled up into bed and did not move. Brian made me tea and soup, and I knocked out super early. Saturday morning, I thought that I was feeling a lot better, so I headed to the gym. Bad decision on several accounts. After getting home and showering, I felt absolutely miserable. Negative to this? There was no sleeping the day away-- Brian and I had tickets to head into Boston and see the Bruins play (happy birthday to him!), so I had to heavily medicate myself and tough it out.

On the bright side of going in, we had dinner at Boston Beer Works, and it was SO good. My beer of choice was a Bluebeery Ale, complete with two heaping spoonfuls of Maine blueberries added to the glass-- so so so good. We also ordered a basket of sweet potato fries with an a-ma-zing raspberry aioli dipping sauce:

Please tell me I'm not the only one who thinks sweet potato fries are heavenly. Best part? They were for sure homemade and thin and crispy-- love! My dinner was a salad with chopped chicken, black beans... it was quite yummy. Then we were off to the game!

While our seats were not quite as impressive as Wednesday night's Celtics game, we still had so much fun (for non-Bostonites, the Celtics and the Bruins both play at TD Banknorth Garden, making this our second visit this week). We decided that Bruins games can be a lot of fun because, and I mean this 100% nicely, a lot of working class people (i.e. fun and wild and crazy!) can afford tickets. Patriots and Red Sox tickets can get astronomical, and Celtics tickets aren't cheap either. Bruins tickets just run a bit cheaper though, and boy do the pure Bostonians come out. It's such a fun experience-- I can't wait to take my Daddy and brother along with us someday.

And now, for the Christmas-ness. One of my favorite bloggers, Kelsey from The Seattle Smiths, posted today that Shutterfly is giving away 50 Christmas cards FOR FREE to bloggers! Heck yes for that! They have a ton of new designs, so if you review the designs on your blog, they're all about feeling the Christmas spirit and sharing the new designs with bloggy world. You have zero to lose and really-- who doesn't love Christmas cards?!

Happy Sunday, my friends. Enjoy what's left of your weekend!!

Ants in my pants? Nah... let's try a spider.


As I've touched on this past week, I don't sleep much. Most mornings I'm lucky to stumble to the bathroom and not encounter any obstacles along the way, such as a lone sneaker or pillow. When I think about it, I try to lay my clothes out the night before, especially for casual Friday-- I'll always wear jeans and a cute top. So I set out my jeans last night, draping them over a bag full of things to be returned, at the foot of the bed on the floor, and climbed into my bed, knowing that my jeans would be nice and ready for me in the morning.

Fast forward to this morning. After my shower/makeup/hair process is finished, I wake Brian up and hurry him along, feed Otis (my beta, the other half of Milo & Otis... RIP Milo), pull on my jeans and start to make the bed (once awake, I'm very good at multi-tasking at the glorious hour of 5:40am). As I'm smoothing out the sheets, I notice that something on my thigh is itchy and I can kind of feel something through my jeans, a small bump perhaps, when I run my hand over the spot. The more I touch it, the more it itches, until it occurs to me that something. is. In. My. PANTS! TMI or not, I yank off my jeans, slap my hand to the spot and there, my friends, in the palm of my hand, is a spider.

I was horrified. Legitimately horrified. Had my throat note been so sore, I most assuredly would have screamed (it's like The Spot has a sense that I'm writing about it because it JUST started to itch again). Grabbing my jeans, I charge into the bathroom to inform Brian that a spider was in my pants. He started to laugh at first, thinking I was joking, but as he really saw my hysterical-ness (and the spider in my hand), he quieted down. And maybe gagged.

In all honesty, it was a tiny spider but still-- spider in my jeans. And we live on the 4th floor of a 10 floor condo complex-- it's not like we're in the sticks where insects run free. Spider in my jeans. That was NOT the best way to get my morning goin' today.

Moving right along...

For the past few years, I've stubbornly avoided getting a flu shot because I believed that I wouldn't get sick and that if I did, a simple one-time shot wasn't going to stop the sick germs from invading. Of course, I always got sick anyways, but there was a certain amount of pride that I held on to for not jumping on the flu shot bandwagon.

This year, since I'm working at a childrens hospital and all, I bit the bullet, swallowed my pride, and got the shot.

Guess who's sick, my friends.


In all fairness, I knew it was inevitable. Brian, the worst sick patient ever, has been battling the beginnings of a cold since Wednesday-ish. He informed me yesterday that it was just so bad at work, he had to close his eyes for a moment at his desk. (sidenote: I chose to leave out the part that I take daily breaks to the ladies room to take a deep cleansing breath and rest my eyes for a moment. These few minutes restore my sanity and hey, it's better than dozing in front of my computer!) This is where bad sick Brian comes in. He has never missed a day of work due to sickness, which I think is... sick. I don't milk sick days by any means, but if I'm miserable and the thought of commuting in, sitting at my desk for 8 hours and commuting an hour home on public transportation is enough to slay me... then I'll consider it. There are some days you just need to lay in bed and mope around and be sick in order to get over it... that's how I am anyways. Plus there's the whole infecting your coworkers issue, which I suppose is a bit rude. So instead of resting and recuperating, Brian tries to power through, while I get to be Nurse Katie and provide the soup, Diet Coke, blankets, tv remote, warm towels from the dryer, craved Kraft mac and cheese... you catch my drift. And I'm good with that-- totally signed up for it when we did the whole moving in together, pre-For Better or For Worse decision.

The fact that I'm sick on top of Brian being sick is a whole new ball game though. I am a very openly honest terrible sick person. I have certain soups that I want to drink out of certain mugs, certain drinks out of certain cups (Big Blue from Walmart which moved with me from Texas to Boston and which NOBODY else can ever drink out of), certain blankets that I want while wearing certain pajamas... I mean, if you're ever going to be catered on, it should be when you're sick right? You just don't feel good and want someone to take care of you, which is precisely how I feel today. Sore throat, achey, headache, feverish... I basically should not be at work, but since I'm saving time for Christmas, I'm breaking my "no infecting coworkers rule" and sticking it out. However, you had better believe that by 4:30 this afternoon I will be in my pajama pants and a sweatshirt, tucked into bed watching Oprah.

On brighter, non-sick related notes, I bought a coat last night (I'm trying to spare you from only reading about my/our sickness because... ew. Just ew). Ann Taylor Loft, my store of love, had three super coats, regularly between $160-200, on sale for $75!! I couldn't believe it. With all of the Weight Watchers success, none of my older coats fit, so I was more than happy to plunk down $75 for a good, heavy (and cute!) wool coat.

I cannot think of much else to say and am honestly just ready for the weekend. Despite my after work pajama plans, I have to head to Target tonight to get a few random things for my dad's birthday, which is Monday, so I can get his little box in the mail tomorrow morning. Tomorrow I have my meeting early, then my plan is to hit up Pier 1 and Michaels to return a few things and check out *fingers crossed* deals on Halloween stuff. Then it's back to the condo to relax for a bit, then we're heading into Boston for an afternoon around the city, dinner, and the Bruins game. My main reason for Bruins excitement is that I recently bought a new Bruins top to wear to the games, so I'll be stylin'.

Here's to hoping that our colds go away by tomorrow night. If I have to be in a freezing hockey rink for two hours feeling the way that I feel right this moment, Brian will be in a world of pain.

Happy Friday!!

Courtside Celtics seats? Yes, please!!

So I'm sitting at my desk today, twiddling my thumbs and counting down the minutes 'til I can run to my shuttle, when a message pops up in my inbox from one of my friend/co-workers/assistants to one of our big doctors: "Celtics Tickets". We email all day long, so as I opened it, I figured it was nothing special.


"B has three tickets to tonight's Celtics game. First come, first serve!"

Hands shaking, I rapid-fire replied, asking how much they were asking for. "They're a gift and free! Do you want them-- you were the first to reply!"

Do I want them? Are we for real here? Of course! So I asked her to hold them while I called Brian to make sure going wasn't going to interfere with his study time tonight. He gave the go-ahead, and they were mine! Now, I am not a lucky person. I never win contests or scratch off tickets, and I definitely am not the first to "win" things like this... which is why I could not stop smiling as I walked downstairs to pick the tickets up! Melissa was super excited that I'd been the one to get the tickets, and I thanked the doctor profusely as he happily handed them over.

Once I was back at my desk, I took a look at the tickets to see where we'd be sitting (i.e. Brian wanted to know-- I likely would never have thought/cared to look). Hm... Section 2, Row 3-- those sound like decent seats. Just to be sure, I found the Garden seating chart for Celtics games... and holy moly goodness. Courtside, my friends! I might have gone to the (private, single) bathroom and did a little happy dance in the mirror. Brian was shocked-- they're A-MA-ZING seats. My first thought was to email the doctor again, just to say thank you one more time, and he responded with "You're very welcome, Katherine. Make sure to take a camera-- these are prime picture-taking seats!" Will do, B... will do.

Now that we're back at the condo, Brian and I just looked at the seats again. I might have said "So basically, if I wanted to run onto the court from our seats, it would be totally possible." And it is. I could totally do it. The game is ALSO the ESPN game tonight, so Brian's convinced that we'll be on national television-- I'll be wearing a green Celtics t-shirt (that we're buying on the way to the train because Why on earth would I own a Celtics t-shirt?) with a white long sleeve shirt underneath. Look for me!

We're meeting his cousin for the game (although I'd love to have brought along my dad or my brother more than just about anything), and I'm pretty sure it's made both of their weeks. Brian just informed me that he's more excited than a little boy waiting for his Big Wheels on Christmas morning. Uh huh. I'll take lots of pictures and post them asap!

Happy Hump Day, indeed!

Whatever happened to hot chocolate with marshmallows?

As I've mentioned here before, I sleep very little.

Even when I do go to bed at a decent hour, there is something about an alarm sounding at 4:40am that's just jarring to my system. Previous to these crazy hours, I was NOT a coffee drinker. I LOVED the smell of coffee beans, coffee brewing, the coffee aisle at the grocery store... but never the taste. I'd often get some type of tastebud-friendly hot beverage to look like I was a grown-up drinking coffee, while I was really reveling in my coconut hot chocolate or caramel apple cider. However, since I now awake before the sun, I pump the coffee in all of it's caffeine-fueled glory into my body as quickly (and early) as possible.

Brian and I always stop at a Dunkin Donuts on our way to the train, but I just wasn't feeling it today. Since I'd only ever had coffee with enough cream and sugar to turn the drink a lovely light caramel color, I always order a flavored syrup to mask the coffee taste (still love the smell, can't love the taste). The coffee craving just wasn't there this morning, so I skipped it while Brian ordered his.

It's cold again today, and as I waited on the platform for my train with the brisk wind whipping around me, I felt alive... fresh... rejuvenated! "Coffee is for fools with no true energy! Forget caffeine-- high on life is exactly what I am, yessir!" The train pulls in, I grab a seat, scroll through my blogs (good morning, Big Mama!), so alert and annoyingly wide awake, smiling at all of my fellow (oh so grumpy) commuters. With a bounce in my step, I flounce from the train to my shuttle, perkily greeting my favorite bus driver and finding a seat. And then we idled. And wait... and we wait some more. We probably sat there for a good 15 minutes, waiting for more passengers to load on. By the time we finally pulled out of the parking lot, I was passed out cold.

After continuing to nod off three more times in my 20 minute commute to work, I deemed a morning stop at Starbucks absolutely necessary. Now, while I am a fan of Starbucks over DD, no questions asked, I just can't bring myself to rationalize spending $5 a day on a cup of coffee. For that reason, Starbucks is more of a treat than a necessity. Knowing that my Grande Skinny Cinnamon Dolce Latte is about to pumping through me, I might have quickly scurried/jaywalked across the street to the Starbucks next to my building. After I placed my order and moved to the side to wait for my drink, I noticed who was waiting next to me.

Now, at this point in my story, it would be really fun if I could say "Giselle and baby Benjamin!" or "Mark Wahlberg!" or (my personal favorite) "Jenn, Ben and their girls!" (Boston-related celebs, my friends). Fun, yes. What actually happened... no. Not quite. Would have made for a fun Tuesday morning though. And Jenn is always running into Starbucks while Ben is off filming movies-- girlfriend needs the caffeine to keep up with those babies!

So yea. I notice the group of customers who are also waiting for their drinks... and they're no older than 9-10 years old. Um... what? When did KIDS start drinking Starbucks? Am I that out of the loop with the trends? I mean, Starbucks does have a handful of kid-friendly drinks: variations of hot chocolate, apple juice, caramel apple spice, all of which I would be happy to drink. But these kids were hard. core.

"Grande Awake tea Latte for Vivi!"
"Tall espresso Macchiato for James!"
"Tall non-fat peppermint mocha, no whip, for Bryn!"

Y'all, I had to pick my jaw up off of the ground. Act like little kids, for goodness sakes! Is it just the trendiness of walking into school holding a Starbucks cup? Because I NEVER see little ones waiting in line at DD for a drink. Munchkins, yes. Espresso, no. And for the love of pete's sake-- the non-fat, no-whip girl was skin.and.bones. There's no telling who's coaching her to take all of the goodness out of her Starbucks indulgence, but I can for sure say that it was NOT necessary. Needless to say, I was a little bit thrown off by my fellow customers this morning. If they're drinking this much caffeine now, how much will they need to get going when they're old and almost 25, like me?

Ah, well. God bless the teachers who have to deal with their little caffeine-flooded, espresso-driven bodies today. By the end of today, they might be needing something stronger than a stop at Starbucks can fix.

My (frozen) Texan blood.

It is COLD in Boston today.

Since we went to bed at 10 last night, I actually woke up/got up without fighting the alarm this morning and had enough time to turn on the local news, which turned out to be a very good thing because HELLO, 30 DEGREES when we left this morning. I kid you not, my Southern blood was frozen. Bundled up or not, it's still a shock to step outside on the first really chilly day and wait for the dreaded realization that you can officially not expect to be warm, outside of your car or house, again for the next four months, at the very least.

By the time I'd done all of my commuting from the car to the train to the shuttle to my building, I truly could not feel my toes. On top of the frozen, I got a pedicure Saturday afternoon and chose this as my color:

So my pale, pale footsies were looking mighty scary, in contrast with this purpley color (which actually looks almost black on the aforementioned pale, pale feet). It took me a good hour to shake the chill and warm up a bit.

Now, I can't really complain. If you gave me the option of living in a desert or a tundra forever, I'd choose the tundra, hands down, for the following reasons:

My hair manages the cold much better than the heat and humidity.
My body looks much better in jeans and sweaters and long sleeve tops than shorts and tank tops (hello again to the paleness).
Holiday socks are one of my top five favorite things ever, and 4th of July socks don't look nearly as cute as turkeys and Christmas trees.
It is so much more cozy and comfy to come home at the end of the day and change into warm relaxing clothes, versus the shorts and tshirts that I resort to in the summer months.
I am pale and my skin does not like the sun. I am not a fan of sweating/"glowing" simply by walking out of my front door. I spent the first 21 years of my life in Texas proving these points.

On the bright side of cold, the (someday) homemaker in me comes out. My downtime at work is spent scouring food websites for stick-to-our-bones soups and casseroles and pasta dishes... which means my gym time increases as well. The crafty person inside of me that likes to hide away in the warmer months suddenly appears, proposing such lofty ambitions like baking cinnamon rolls for my mom's entire department, handmaking Christmas ornaments for friends, finding decoration ideas and turning myself into Miss DIY. My Christmas card list has been turned into an Excel spreadsheet, and my own wish list, as well as my list of gifts for the people that I will buy for, is in full force.

Come springtime, I'll be exhausted-- I have no doubt in my mind about that. Until then, I'll bundle up in my sweaters and jeans and boots and scarves and love the cold while it's here.

Going along with my need to cook as if we're never going to eat again, supper tonight is Paula Deen's Goulash (majorly modified for both healthyness and servings) and Cheddar-Garlic Biscuits (major love already, and it's only 1:30). If I can remember, I'll try to post pictures-- my goal is to someday keep a food blog, just as soon as I have a better camera... and a camera cord... and a computer whose USB ports actually like to recognize what's plugged in.

I also have tons of pictures from the past couple of weeks but am currently on the hunt for my camera cord. As soon as I find it, the pictures will be up! I also have tales from our birthday/Halloween weekend, so I'll hopefully get that posted tonight.

In the meantime, I'll leave you with two pictures off of my phone:

The "BOO" idea that I found at The Garner Family blog! The letters have been finished for a couple of weeks but I finally hung them up Friday afternoon. Ah, well-- better late than never!

And Brian's Heath Bar Birthday Trifle. This thing almost did me in yesterday afternoon, but it turned out to be ridiculously good (if I do say so myself) and SO stinkin' rich. Birthday Boy approved!

Happy Monday, y'all!