I Still Believe in Santa Claus, And You Should Too

Santa and I have a wonderful relationship. I have never had a negative experience associated with Santa Claus, even when I discovered that *gasp* he wasn't real. And you know why? Because Santa IS real, and you will never convince me otherwise.

Where I grew up, I saw the same Santa Claus every year. I later came to find out that he his name was George, and he went to my Grandma's church. It was she, my wonderful Grandmother, who let slip to me that "George would be doing Santa at Bettianne's this weekend." My young heart stopped for a moment, but I didn't say anything, because I didn't want my Grandma to feel bad for letting it slip. I was a very intuitive child I believe, and I had seen the movies and heard the stories of children's lives being RUINED and parents feeling terrible about it when such a secret was revealed. 

I continued to defend Santa Claus to my elementary friends as if my life depended on it. One friend caught their parents stuffing stockings, and this was still not enough to sway my belief. 

Yet came one Christmas Eve when I lay awake, dealing with my sleep anxiety that I suffered with for years, and I heard a strange rattling in the living room and my parents talking quietly. It sounded like beads clanging against the coffee table. I thought nothing of it then, but when I woke up on Christmas it all clicked. 

I had received a beaded door hanger from "Santa Claus", and it was sitting on the coffee table for me that morning. At that moment, I knew Mom and Dad had put it there, and I knew the Santa from the movies wasn't authentic. 

But I wasn't crushed, I wasn't too sad, I wasn't angry at my parents for lying to me for my entire life. Christmas was still the best. And I began to wonder why I had so adamantly defended Santa's existence much longer than was probably normal. 

And simply put, it was because in my Catholic family, Santa Claus was St. Nick. 

If you've ever seen this movie, Nicholas: The Boy Who Became Santa, then you are a privileged individual! It's fantastic.

My family didn't celebrate St. Nick's Day on December 6th with a treat in our shoes (though someday I will most definitely do this with my children), but it was always taught that Santa Claus was simply St. Nicholas.

I won't get into all of the cultural origins of the Santa Claus of today, but in this movie I learned that throughout his life St. Nicholas secretly gave away many treasures. Most notably, he left sacks of gold in the socks (that were left to dry above the fireplace) of a father who was soon to be forced to sell his daughters into prostitution, saving them from a terrible fate. 

So naturally, this all clicked for me as a kid. I reasoned that by the grace of God and the magic that I was so sure existed in the world, St. Nick started in this way, first inspired by the gifts of the Magi given to Baby Jesus, and simply became more magical as time went on. And of course he had successors who continued on in the same spirit, gaining even more magic each time!

Guess what--I still believe this. I still believe that St. Nicholas's successors carry on his legacy, albeit differently. They're our parents and the mall Santas and the Santas named George from Lamar, Colorado. And I don't quite know how to describe it, but part of me still believes in the Santa that flies in a sleigh pulled by reindeer and slides down a chimney (or uses the special house key you leave out if you don't have a chimney). Perhaps believe isn't the right word; perhaps it's more of a deep yearning or hope that manifests itself as truth in my brain. But I think I believe more in the pure and utter joy that Christmas has always brought me.

So yes, I still believe in Santa Claus. I believe in the legacy of men who gave treasures to Christ, and a Saint who left gifts in the socks of those who needed them, and a magical man rooted in that legacy who gives gifts to children, and the joy that believing in such a being brings to those who embrace it. 

Embrace the joy of Santa Claus, of St. Nicholas, and believe in him too! :)

Reed It And Weep: Renovation Parts 2,3, & 4

Regina and Brandon quickly realized how tedious of a job painting cabinets, knocking out walls, installing floors, painting high ceilings, and installing new appliances was going to be. And oh, were they correct.

Soon after finishing their renovations, Regina also realized how tedious of a job writing out every detail of their renovation would be. So she isn't going to. But here are a ton of pictures and some descriptions of progress and problems! Enjoy! And beware before starting your own renovation project!

Hello, innocent kitchen. We will soon rip you apart.

Hello, mediocre dishwasher, sink, counters, and floors we thought we would keep.

Hello, ugly appliances.

Old slide in stove out, so the back counter and the trim on the bottom had to be cut out to fit our new
free standing range! 

Trying to be organized in the obvious chaos, I put sticky notes on the cabinets
so I knew where all the kitchen items were stored. 

Cabinet doors off to be cleaned! The beautiful oven looks like
 a prom queen in a trailer park after a tornado.

Priming!

Labeling for sanity!

Help from family on our makeshift pallet painting station!

Drying station. Coat 1 of 1 billion.

1st coat!

Kitchen still a mess, 1st coat done.

Small wall=gone! Linoleum ruined in the process. Time for new floors!

3 coats later, kitchen is back to kind of normal! Don't be fooled...it took multiple
weekends to get to this stage.

I considered leaving the counters salmon pink because obviously
they look so fabulous with the white cabinets. Please note the missing ugly vent
 hood above the stove. 

We took off and hauled away the old counters the day before the granite came.
Do you know how many times I almost set a glass of water into the top of one of these drawers?

The fridge camouflages itself in an attempt to be forgotten and not
 doomed to the garage

Beautiful granite being installed. Be still, my heart.

*Tears of joy*

But wait! The sink was supposed to be an undermounted! They cut it wrong! WOE IS ME!

**

**

**The above 2 pictures come after the granite was installed on a Tuesday. As mentioned, the hole for the sink was cut incorrectly. We planed and paid for an undermount sink, and that is not what we got. This started a whole fiasco, where the counter people had to cut the hole larger, buy us a new, bigger sink, and very kindly threw in some free granite back splash to make amends for their mistake! Hey, we didn't complain about that. But it did suck not having a sink until they came to fix things on Saturday. I don't care what you say, washing non-dishwasher safe dishes in the bathtub doesn't seem sanitary to me. You'll also note that we painted the kitchen this gorgeous blue/black/gray color that is fabulous.

We lived in the new house for almost 6 weeks without a microwave! Baking? Better put your butter in the toaster oven for 10 minutes to warm/soften it for brownies. In a rush and need to eat some leftovers for lunch quickly? EAT THEM COLD LIKE AN ANIMAL. Accidentally let your coffee go cold? Sucks for you. Forgot to leave some meat out to defrost for dinner? Cereal. Microwaves are the backbone of this country, and you will never convince me otherwise.

Getting ours was quite the adventure. We were told that to hire an electrician to wire an outlet for an above the range microwave would be $300!!!!! So we said, hey, let's just get an on the COUNTER microwave! 

Well, after waiting FOREVER, our counter top microwave arrived. Or shall I say, it sailed in BECAUSE IT WAS AS BIG AS A BOAT. Please look at the picture of the stove--the microwave was literally as big and square as the top of that. No joke, it could sit on the stove and completely cover it. 

We moved it around the kitchen to find a suitable place for it, but the only place that microwave should have gone was the ice age, because it was as big as a mammoth. 

So what did we do? Brandon became an electrician and expertly wired an outlet above the stove so we could get an over the range microwave like every other normal house in America. This also meant cutting the cabinet above there in half. So we now have a beautiful, normal size microwave and a miniature cabinet to store the world's tiniest violin that I would play sad songs on every time something else went wrong in the kitchen. 

Oh--that's the other thing. Once we victoriously installed the microwave, we ceremoniously turned it on and it popped the breaker for the entire kitchen/living area! That's another electrical adventure that we actually resolved rather quickly. For once. :) 

Then we moved on to the floors that we never planned on doing! 

Ripping up carpet!!

So much wall to paint.

Painting the ceilings broke my neck.

Note our pile of flooring yet to be put down before the painting is finished.

You can't tell in the picture, but the entry way of the house is SUPER TALL!
And painting it waaaaayyyyyy up high took about 11 years off of my life. The worst.

Beautiful floors throughout the main floor, and pulls added to the finished cabinets and drawers! 

Done just in time to host Thanksgiving. :)

In the end, all the struggles and work were of course worth it. We have so much--almost too much--to be thankful for. As nice as the final outcome is, we won't be doing any big projects again for a while! My brain hurts just thinking of that. 

Before.

Transformed :)

Reed It And Weep: A Four Part Tale of House Renovations

Buckle in, dear friends, because today I'm going to start a novel in parts titled,  Reed It And Weep: A Four Part Tale of House Renovations 

In this epic young adult novel, you'll follow Regina and Brandon as they pursue an exciting kitchen adventure in the rainy, sun deprived Olympia, Washington. They'll experience hardship, rage, and an emotional rollercoaster propelled by exhaustion and fast food. At some points all hope will seem lost, but with the help of friends and some luck,plus 1 Bazillion trips to Lowe's, the haggard couple will come out the other side forever changed. 

Chapter 1

Brandon and Regina walked through the empty house with big, naive eyes. It was in great condition, having been well taken care of since it's construction in 1989. There was a green yard for the dogs to run and play, a sprinkler system to keep said yard looking nice, and a beautiful garage to protect both vehicles from the rain. The price was right, and it would be fun to gradually update some of the dated hinges, doors, baseboards, and other small things here and there. Both were thinking the same thing--they wanted to buy this house. They went into the kitchen and it gleamed at them. It was clean and well maintained, but it would definitely need to be changed right away.

A well maintained, yet dated kitchen.

"It's not so bad!" Regina exclaimed as she slid her hands across the salmon pink countertops from the late 80s. "We can just replace the counters, and the cabinets are in great shape." Her voice trailed off as she said this, realizing the stain on the cabinets wasn't very appealing.

"And some new appliances, obviously," Brandon added, eyeing the almond colored dishwasher and oven.

"Right. And I bet we could paint the cabinets white!"

"With dark appliances."

Their eyes bulged in excitement and they simultaneously jumped into the air, high fived, and shouted, "WE'LL TAKE IT!!!"

Somewhere in the distance, the kitchen reno fairies chuckled and prepared their evil pixie dust.

Chapter 2: Appliances Schmappliances

Regina and Brandon moved into their first home without delay. Moving was easy. Beginning to unpack went smoothly. And soon came the day that the Lowe's truck pulled up to the house on a Sunday morning with an oven range, a dishwasher, and a refrigerator in lovely black stainless steal. The microwave was ordered, but that's another chapter of its own.

Woe on this day.

The fridge was installed, and Brandon stood gazing at it with joy when suddenly, he didn't recognize it. The inside wasn't supposed to be that color. Where was the "showcase" door? Where was the slim drawer above the freezer to store deli platters and cheese plates?! THEY DELIVERED THE WRONG FRIDGE! Not only that, but the door scraped against the left wall when it opened.

That won't do. That won't do at all.

He picked up the phone and discovered that the boy with long eyelashes who put in the order at Lowe's messed up. The fridge that the young couple thought they ordered didn't come in the size they needed. AND NOW THE SALE WAS OVER! And to get the fridge they so desperately desired, a small wall to the left would need removed.

Brandon looked at Regina. She shrugged in dismay.

"Order the new fridge, and I'll come to the store to discuss the sale price with the manager," said Brandon into the phone. He hung up and then turned to his wife.

"Looks like we're knocking out a wall."

Regina smiled because knocking down walls on HGTV's Fixer Upper always looks so fun! #demoday

After quick fixing (at least in their heads) the fridge problem, Brandon and Regina proceeded to install the dishwasher. The hole was the perfect fit and slid in easily. Until, alas, it would budge no more! It was sticking out a good inch from where it needed to be, and the still bright eyed couple realized that the copper piping stuck out too far for the new fancy dishwasher to fit. The pipe stabbed the dishwasher in the back, literally, and stabbed the couple in the back metaphorically.

Brandon had to cut the pipe shorter, because why the heck was it even sticking out that much in the first place? And then to make sure it wasn't leaking they had to tape it up and then pull the dishwasher out of its spot every day or so to make sure there was no leak that would slowly rot away back there for the next 20 years. Luckily, Brandon was a great handyman, and there was no leak! The dishwasher was in, and there were only 3 more appliances, granite counter tops, and painted cabinets to cause problems and make Brandon and Regina wish they had never been born.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stay tuned for the following chapters on knocking out that pesky wall, painting those pesky cabinets, and the fiasco that new granite countertops caused for the once naive and bright eyed couple!

A Letter To The Open Letter Writers Because This Needs To Be The Last One

A Letter To The People Who Are Always Writing Open Letters To Girls With Certain, Specific Personalities Or Issues on Facebook: May I ask why exactly this is such a trend? For some reason it irks me. I can't explain exactly why, but when I see these articles titled "An Open Letter To..." I roll my eyes approximately 42 times. 

(Yeah, yeah, this post is doing the same thing but that's called irony and I did it intentionally!)

Perhaps it's because the articles come across as a cry for attention, are full of cliches, and are completely lacking in real substance? Yeah that's it.

Oh, hey there Linda. I see you just shared "An Open Letter To The Girl Who Loves With Her Heart and Not Her Head." Nice to know you're just like every other person your age in the entire country.
I know these letters are usually meant to be uplifting, with a "You're not alone! You'll get through this rough patch!" message, but the specificity of some of the titles is outrageous, and the content seems to all be taken from the same generic "Open Letter" handbook.


"A Letter To The Girl Who Feels Anxious About Mispronouncing The Italian Menu Items at Olive Garden:"Hang in there. Your social anxiety doesn't define you! "To The Girl Still Healing From A Broken Heart:" We are in this together, and someday you'll look back and realize your struggles made you a stronger person.
Or on a similar note,
"A Letter To The Guy Who Loves An Independent Girl""To The Guy Who Will Marry My Best Friend""An Open Letter To The Boy About To Fall For The Reckless Girl"
Excuse me while I go vomit.

Here's the thing guys. I think I'm a closed letter kinda gal. Please take your cliche filled letters addressed to vague strangers, put a stamp on them and mail them to someone you know who is actually a "girl with a reckless heart." (What does that even MEAN?!)

I'm an article kinda gal too. But perhaps an article--void of cliches!--that talks about the intricacies of balancing friendships with romantic relationships, or one that explores the real emotional and psychological struggles of moving on after a breakup would be a little more substantive and worthwhile than all these generalized letters shouted into the void.

Then again, those cliched articles get shared a billion times each day, while my random rants and reviews sit quietly while gathering web-dust. I don't care though. I'm still going to roll my eyes at your open letters, and never write one myself again.

Adapting the Pioneer Woman to the Gluten Free Lifestyle

The other day I saw a satirical article on Facebook that was titled, "Gluten Free Pancake Mix is Just a Bag of Sand". I laughed out loud. A few people who know me pointed the article out to me and I laughed again. Thanks, friends for making fun of my very serious medical condition that prohibits me from eating the joys of gluten. Indeed, there are many gluten free food items I have tried that seem to be made of either sand, or drywall that's been sitting in the rain for a few days.

But I must defend my gluten free life a bit, because I am definitely not starving, and I've learned to adapt some recipes to make DURN GOOD FOOD.

So let me tell you something: the Pioneer Woman is my spirit animal. Let me tell you something else: her recipes almost always turn out great when adapted to gluten free ingredients! She loves butter and cream as much as I do, and ain't afraid of no bacon. That's the secret here. I have a theory that if you add enough butter to any gluten free recipe, or fry the gluten free thing, it will be edible.

*So if you're thinking about willingly switching to a gluten free diet for health reasons, you're going to be very disappointed. The only way to make what is gluten free sand taste good is by adding a million more calories. Also, all of you who eat gluten free for the fun of it/ because it's trendy need to STOP. For the love of God, eat some bread.* 

I have proven this theory many a time, most often with Pioneer Woman recipes. Here, I will share with you my experimental results for one recipe, which have indeed been repeated. And  I remember something from science about experiments needing to be repeated to be proven????

Disclaimer: I don't have any pictures because I got too excited and ate it all before I remembered to capture it.

Spicy Fried Chicken Sandwiches

It's chicken dipped in buttermilk then dredged in a flour, salt, peppar, cayenne, brown sugar mixture, then dipped again in buttermilk and then FRIED IN GREASY GOODNESS.

Then you mix some spicy hot sauce with some mayo and slather it on a delicious bun or bread of your choice.

Next chop some red cabbage and add some bread and butter pickle juice, jalapenos, parsely, salt and pepper.

On your slathered bun, add some pickles, then place the recently fried chicken. Here's the secret deliciousness: drizzle just a bit of honey on the chicken! DO IT NOW--don's skip this step. Then pile some cabbage on it! Top the bun and EAT IT.

It's delish, I promise. And it's easy to make gluten free if you use gluten free flour!

Also delicious and fried and from The Pioneer Woman: Pan Fried Pork Chops

Also delicious, not fried, and naturally gluten free by The Pioneer Woman: Simple, Perfect Chili

How to Cope with the Outcome of the Election: Eat Alfredo

So the election's almost over and you're emotionally spent from the rollercoaster of the last year and a half. We won't get into WHICH emotions you're feeling right now--fear, anger, sadness, rage, whatever--because I know that there's one thing we all have in common: hunger.

I'm going to share with you the solution to your emotions and your hunger:

Make this Alfredo sauce.

We all are in need of some comfort, so get yourself a stick of butter, half a chunk of cream cheese, and a pint of heavy cream. Put it all in a sauce pan and WHISK IT INTO SUBMISSION. Add some salt and pepper, garlic to your taste, and throw in a teaspoon or two of Italian seasoning. Then add a cup of shredded parmesan cheese and whisk it in as it melts deliciously and temptingly. When it sticks to your whisk, lick it off with no shame.

Enraged at the state of the good ol' USofA? Make and eat this Alfredo sauce.

Scared for the future? Put this Alfredo sauce on your toast in the morning.

Relieved that the dang election is just OVER? Heap the Alfredo sauce on some pasta (gluten free of course).

Trying to eat healthy and want to trick yourself into eating a vegetable? Pour the sauce on some broccoli.

Seriously, just eat this Alfredo sauce in some way! It's okay to eat it with a spoon! It's okay to eat it right before bed! For breakfast! Scoop it with a tortilla. Add chicken and spinach and pasta. Feed it to the dogs because God knows they've felt the negative effects of the election just as much as you.

I promise, you will feel better while making and eating this Alfredo sauce, and right now, that's all any of us want to do. To feel better.

Anything with butter makes ya better.

For Your Entertainment: My Weird, Recurring Dream

I have weird dreams all the time. Most of the time by lunchtime they're all out of my head, except for the terrifying ones that stay with me for daaaaaaays and haunt me. But I also deal with a few recurring dreams. For example, my teeth often fall out as I eat or talk in my dreams, and ever since I was young I dream I get locked in the attic of the Trunchbull's attic (who is my babysitter), but the furniture comes alive in a Beauty and the Beast-ish twist and it saves me. We dance down the street as we run away after thwarting Trunchbull.

Pretty entertaining, right? And that one happens the SAME each time. It's very specific.

But I also consistently dream that I am in the place of Harry Potter in some situation or other. I've defeated the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, watched Cedric die in the graveyard (sob), and tons of other crazy things. The kicker is that I always know what's going to happen though in these dreams, and it makes it much more stressful and infuriating trying to keep bad things from happening.

So now, BEHOLD, the most frustrating, weirdest version of my Harry Potter immersion dreams:

The people of Hogwarts usher me down a golden elevator to an underground banquet hall that looks eerily familiar to the Great Hall. To the left is a door that leads to a platform for the Hogwarts Express, but SURPRISE, the train flies. I thought we took an elevator down, but we are actually in the air somehow????

In the banquet hall I am met by death eaters who are oddly hospitable. This is a feast, a dinner, before I go to meet Voldemort for our final battle. They cook me dinner. They even make sure it's gluten free! It's a delicious feast with rolls, roast duck, and pumpkin juice, but I can't eat because I'm shaking in my boots about fighting Voldemort. 

As the dinner ends, the Death Eaters become more hostile and antagonize me with remarks about me soon being dead. This is when I realize I don't have my wand! They laugh as they walk across the banquet hall to the large double doors to join the Dark Lord for the impending battle, and I scramble around with Molly Weasley, Ron, Hermione, ad Ginny looking for my wand. 

The Hogwarts Express zooms up to the door/portal in the sky and Dobby, who is the conductor, tosses me my wand. Hurrah! 

But when I try to do some spells, I remember that I'm a squib and am not very good at magic! The horror! But I must go on anyways. 

When I go through the hall doors, I find myself in a large white master bedroom that's quite dark. Dusky dark. I immediately sit down beside the bed and sob because I know Voldemort is in there somewhere. Suddenly, the room lurches and zooms backwards as if it's being dragged by a trailer. 

Then I find myself in a HUGE hall with tall ceilings. Death Eaters are flying around and in what would be a choir loft I see Voldemort. I shoot killing curses at him over and over while dodging his and the death eaters, but they just bounce off of him! 

And with each curse, my wand grows shorter! When it's no more than a nub, I flee to the large multi stall bathroom off of the room and lock myself in a stall. There are people everywhere in there--what the heck!?

But yay, there are birthday candles and matchstick dispensing machines in the stall with a metal "lighter" attached to the wall behind the toilet. (????) Inserting the match or candle like a credit card will light it so you can use it as a temporary wand. 

But alas, my lighter isn't working great and I keep dropping my lit matches in the toilet! 

Finally, a kind stranger enters my stall and lights a large match for me, and when I walk out of the stall to try and kill Voldemort with the match/wand, a tiny old couple is waiting for me with a package wrapped in white parchment paper. They hand it to me silently and gesture at me to open it.

When I do, it's full of black throwing knives and ominous looking black wands to choose from. As I look up to thank them, they disappear and I have no idea who the heck they were. 

Nonetheless, I choose some knives and a couple wands incase they decide to shrink again, and charge out to meet Voldemort! 

It only takes one more move from me for him to die. 

I throw the smallest of the black knives at his chest, and as it flies through the air, I shoot a killing curse at the knife causing it to catch fire, and as the cursed knife meets Voldemort's chest, it buries itself deep and then he bursts in to flames. In a matter of seconds, he is reduced to a pile of ashes, and then I wake up!

What???? Someone please interpret this dream for me and tell me why I keep having it!

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this rather long and ludicrous post about my insanity!

Memories of a Harry Potter Nerd

Me impatiently waiting in the theater for the premier of
  Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1

I've spent the last few days substitute teaching in a kindergarten classroom. Everyday, we have a scheduled "Rest and Recharge" time where everyone grabs a blanket, we turn off the lights, turn on some nice music, and rest on the floor quietly. Well, I couldn't find the iPod for music during this time, so I instead searched my phone quickly for some instrumental music to help sooth the atmosphere of the room. Basically all the instrumental music I have on my phone is from Harry Potter film scores so that's what we have been listening to! Not only do the kids love it, but man oh man, does it bring back some good memories of my own! Well, the most recent memory is actually of my constant reading and writing while in school since I used the same music to study, so I'm not sure if that's technically defined as a "good" memory--ha! Anyways, it must be due to the fact that I was listening to this wonderful, inspiring, beautiful music in an elementary school, but I had a flood of memories associated with Harry Potter come rushing back.

Today I would like to share some of my recollections from my magical Harry Potter childhood.

When I was in Kindergarten I went with my HP Fan Family to see Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone in the theater. And thus began my love story. In my kid's snack pack, at the bottom of my popcorn, I found a Harry Potter scar tattoo. I was ecstatic. I had my mom put it on my forehead because obviously that's where it was supposed to go. The next day at school, my scar got made fun of, but I didn't care. I was like Harry.

In 1st grade, I wanted to be Harry Potter for Halloween. My mom had already sewn a Gryffindor cape for my older brothers that I was all set to use. This time, when my costume idea was made fun of at school (apparently it was weird to want to dress up as a boy), the teasing registered a little too much, and I switched my costume to Snow White at the very last minute. Like, possibly the day of Halloween. I regret this decision to this day.


In 2nd grade, I read the first installment of the series for the first time. It took me months, possibly the entire school year, but I did it and I admit, I liked to brag about it. I convinced two of my friends to try as well, but only one liked it enough to finish it. (She's a Harry Potter nerd now too.)

In third grade, my reading skills grew exponentially. I read the first 4 books, which were all that had been released so far. Let me tell you, I think my proudest elementary moment was when I finished the big fourth book in only 10 days. 10 DAYS PEOPLE! And yet, one of my most vivid memories from 3rd grade is the one day that I didn't read about the Tri-Wizard Tournament. In 3rd grade, my dear Grandma Irene passed away and I missed school. That afternoon my teacher delivered me a large envelope full of cards and letters written by my classmates to console me in my sadness. That day I read those instead of Harry.

In 5th grade the 5th book was published, and at 870 pages, I finished it in 4 days. I'm pretty sure I annoyingly bragged about this any chance I could get. Sorry classmates. I proceeded to reread the paperback book all year long, and had to tape the spine over and over to keep it from falling apart.

In July before 6th grade the final book was released. My fellow Harry Potter addict, Bailey, and I made plans to go to the nearest Barnes and Noble book store for the midnight release. This was a 2 hour drive from our little towns but totally worth it! We crimped our hair and dressed in capes like Hermione(s), and sat in line for a few hours eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans and pretending like we were going to barf every time we got an icky one. OH WHAT JOY!

In 7th grade, my grandpa died and I inherited his collection of Harry Potter books. We had spent day after day together many summers, simply sitting in the same living room and reading the books. We didn't talk about them or comment to each other much, but we always shared a similar love for the wondrous story. I will always cherish those special editions to my collection.

I could go on...but this is already a long post! When something is so central to your everyday life for so many years, it only makes sense that there are some super vivid memories that stick with you for such a long time. Harry, Ron, and Hermione have been my best friends for a long time, and that will be the case for the rest of my life.

This was my profile picture for an extremely long time after I
watched HP7 Part 1.
Obviously I hate Belltrix. And Obviously I was still in gymnastics
 because my arm looks great

Maybe next time I'll tell you about all the weird words that I learned from reading Harry Potter, after years of hilariously misreading them!

I'm out; off to reread again.

Harry Potter and My Sisterly Senses

Some weekends are more beautiful than others; this last one was one of those! Why, you may ask? Well, Freeform did this beautiful thing where they only show Harry Potter movies and it sure warmed my cold, muggle heart. Or perhaps since I'm American, my cold No-Maj heart.

Me when I see Harry Potter on TV.

I'm one of those people that likes to have the TV on CONSTANTLY. It keeps me company when I'm home alone, and makes cleaning and cooking and painting cabinets and remodeling the kitchen (stay tuned for a blog synopsis of our ridiculous DIY kitchen remodel in the next few weeks) less of a chore. So, on Harry Potter weekends, whichever one is on, I'm watching it--even if I finished the same one the night before prior to going to bed! Oh, they just never get old! In fact, when I hear that beautiful theme music I get lots of emotions welling up in my chest--but the emotional and lifelong impact Harry Potter has had on me can be covered in a different post.

Now, on this Harry Potter weekend, I seemed to consistently turn the TV on to the 6th lovely installment: The Half Blood Prince. At the point in the movie after Harry has successfully acquired Slughorn's memory which reveals that VOLDEMORT HAS CREATED 7 HORCRUXES THAT MUST BE HUNTED DOWN TO DESTROY HIM, he and Dumbledore exit the memory full of distress at this revelation. Watch the video here and pay close attention!

I don't know how I missed it all the other times I watched this movie, but when I watched this scene, I realized that THIS was the exact moment that Dumbledore realizes Harry is indeed a Horcrux himself. Did you notice his reaction after Harry touched the ring and it spun out of control?

"But Magic, especially dark magic,"
*ring spins and visions flash*
*Dumbledore pauses and looks at Harry with masked astonishment*
"...leaves traces." 
BUM-BUM-BUMMMMM

And did you notice Dumbledore notice Harry's weird neck crick after he touches the dark object? If you think back to the previous movie, Harry does that weird neck crick all the time when Voldemort's getting inside his head. This is where Dumbledore knows that Harry indeed has part of Voldemort's soul inside of him. 

I was pretty astonished and pumped up when I noticed this, just because I love it when all the dots connect. But even more amazing is the fact that the next day, when I was once again watching this movie, my sister texted me with the exact same revelation!

The moment our sisterly
senses connected.

The only explanation is magic, because we live 1500 miles away and had never made this connection before. And we've watched this movie multiple times together, sitting on the same couch.

WHAAAAAAAT? Sister senses for the win!

Anyways, maybe it's not that cool to you, but any time two of my favorite people--Harry Potter and My Sissy Poo!--mesh together so beautifully, I just have to shout it to the world!

Now, if you wish to get the FULL effect of this revelation, you'll need to watch all 8 movies, then watch the 6th one 3 times back to back, and then you'll understand. Better get started. 

How To Survive Without Electricity

Well friends, I'm preparing for an apparently apocalyptic storm here in Olympia. Everyone is so excited about the weather that's about to unfold! And when I say excited, I don't mean people are necessarily looking forward to the oncoming torrents of rain and gusts of wind that will rip out evergreens and throw them at houses. But there is indeed excitement and hype. I was in a middle school science class today, and all the kids were upset because if the power goes out tonight, school will likely be cancelled Friday. Turns out that they already had Friday off for predetermined reasons, so this is a big disappointment. They were hoping for the power to go out last night. It's much more fun to be able to get out of obligations like school or work than for your long weekend to be ruined. I feel ya, kids.

Anyways, I've created a short list of essentials to make sure you have just in case you're out of power for an extended period of time.

1. A Headlamp
I suggest getting a few of the cheap, $1 headlamps at Walmart. Don't use flash lights. Head lamps are best because when you go to search for your books to read when the TV doesn't work, you can use both hands to rifle through them. Also, when you go to read you book(s), holding a flashlight in one hand is THE WORST. Your pages flutter around and don't stay in place and just erg. Get the head lamp. Luckily I already have a  few of these because I use them to read in bed at night like a cyclops.
*It's also super fun to use head lamps because every time you look at someone you blind them--yahoo!

An actual picture of me
heading to bed to read.

2. Cookies
Let's be honest. You never keep a batch of cookies long enough for them to go bad anyways, but this is your excuse to buy a bunch or make a million batches before your oven is out of commission. It's all about surviving the storm, guys. Cookies don't go bad, but milk does. And you can't just drink milk without cookies. It's all to make use of the milk that will spoil in your warm fridge.

3. Dog Potty Pads
You know your dog(s) aren't going to go out in the rain storm to do their business. Just prepare.

Or you can try to prepare your pets this way, too.

4. A Wall
Pick a wall. This will be your entertainment wall. You get to look at it when you run out of books to read and your phone is dead with no way to recharge. You could draw on it if you wish, but that is not advised. Refrain from banging your head on the wall out of boredom.

Well folks, that's it. Get ready for a weekend of pioneer living with no electricity or technology. But also, calm the heck down because I'm pretty sure you'll survive without the internet.

Do It; Judge the Book By Its Cover

If you like books, especially pretty books, then please keep reading, because this post is all about a pretty book titled The Thousandth Floor by Katharine McGee! Here you'll find my wonderful review of the experience I had with this novel--spoiler alert: it was great, you need to buy this book, but please keep reading to find out why.

First, let me admit that I bought this book simply because it was gorgeous. Yeah, yeah, "Don't judge a book by it's cover" blah blah blah. I always judge books by their covers, and so should you! Good books have intriguing covers. It's a fact. Now, I don't recommend extending this beyond literature into the metaphorical region of the world. Only judge literal books by their covers.

I mean, look at this book cover!

I want to shake the hand of this graphic designer. Because I literally saw an add for this a few months ago, was drawn to the title and this cover, and immediately preordered it on Amazon. Well done, marketing team. Well done. 

Now, after you buy this book for it's cover, (and because you read this exclamatory review) you'll open it up to find that the inside is even better than the outside. You'll read Katharine McGee's super engaging story about futuristic New York City inside the GIANT, 1000 STORY TOWER WITH A CAPITAL T. Please imagine 1000 stories right now, and realize how extremely vast this is. The Tower is a city in itself, with city blocks, shopping districts, streets, churches, schools, simulated environments and weather, and of course, thousands and thousands of people's homes. And you guessed it, the higher in the Tower you live, the richer you are. 

The story is told through the different points of view of teenagers living in the Tower. We have Avery, who lives in the only apartment on the thousandth floor and was genetically designed to be "perfect"; Leda, Avery's best friend recently returned from rehab for drug addiction; Eris, an upper floor girl whose entire world is turned upside down after a DNA test reveals a daunting secret; Rylin, an orphan from the 32nd floor who struggles to make ends meet for her and her younger sister; and Watt, a tech smart boy with an illegal quantum computer imbedded in his head that gives him information on virtually anything he desires. 

The secrets and lies of all these characters and their mutual acquaintances soon catch up to them, with everyone finally converging on the top of the Tower. Jealousy, deception, secrets, drugs, alcohol, and assumptions create a confusing web that everyone gets tangled in--but the web isn't strong enough to catch the unfortunate person who is pushed to their death from the top of the tower when things get out of control.  

Who falls? And who pushes?! OH MY GOSH YOU HAVE TO READ IT TO FIND OUT! 

Please, read this book. I need someone to talk about it with. If you liked The Luxe, or Gossip Girl, I think you'll be like me and agree that this has the same kind of vibe! If you didn't like either of those, pretend you didn't just read that sentence and read The Thousandth Floor anyways because I told you to. 

Come on, aren't you curious? These kid's don't have phones--they have contacts that scroll their social media feeds and messages in front of their eyeballs! There are super fast jet trains that take you under the Atlantic to Paris in a few hours! Someone falls off of a two and a half mile high tower! 

Katharine McGee will transport you straight to the Tower in all its futuristic glory if only you read The Thousandth Floor. I read it simply because its cover was appealing, so you have no excuses because you've seen the cover and read this raving and curiosity inducing review!

Book Woman OUT. 

P.S. Please try to fathom the vastness of the Tower: 

And here is yet another gorgeous cover screaming "READ ME IM PRETTY!" 

In Case I Never Write My Books: A Dedication

As is common knowledge to most people who know me, I am an aspiring writer (see my previous blog post about the first story I ever wrote!). However, I suffer from severe procrastination and writer's block. I'll get an outline done, or a few chapters, and then get stuck and give up for a day or a few years.

Despite my problem with finishing my books, I don't have any problem planning my future book dedications. Yes, I get a little ahead of myself. So just in case, here's a few from my list of the multiple book dedications I have planned out for the future.

To my third grade sack lunch table: You guys were not only fabulous lunch buddies of all ages, but you were the first people I ever shared my writing with. The first short story I ever began was called "The Fat Prince" and it was about a young prince who ate too many Cheetos and turned into a ball. It was a real problem for the kingdom, because then he just rolled and bounced around the kingdom, toppling structures and injuring people.

I pitched this story to you all at lunch one day, and we all laughed until we cried. I always loved to read, but that day, I realized I was a pretty dang good writer too. As we got in trouble for laughing too hard in the lunch room, I knew I wanted to continue to write and make people react to my words and stories. Thanks for the laughs and inspiration lunch buddies!

To Sarah, one of my fellow readers: I shared "The Fat Prince" with you too, but not at lunch. Instead of laughing at it, you told me it was good, and proceeded to edit the grammar throughout. I remember being a little peeved because it was OBVIOUSLY a rough draft, but then later realizing I needed to be a more careful, intentional writer and avoid mistakes. Thanks, friend. You've always been my fellow bookish nerd and it's wonderful.

Also, I've told you multiple times that someday I would dedicate a book to you, so here ya go. This might just be as good as it gets!

To Brandon, who doesn't like to read but reads what I write anyways. This is a testament to your love for me, and you motivate me to be a better writer. Why? Because someday I'll write a book that even you will like to read. :)

Well, there you have it. Don't worry if you're reading this and I've promised you a dedication or you feel you deserve one. I've got plenty more. My goal in life is to indeed write many books and truly place these dedications right smack in the front for the world to see, but if that giant earthquake that's supposed to wipe out the pacific northwest comes tomorrow, at least a few got out into the world.

Here are some funny book dedications for your Friday.