A Traditional Halloween

For the last seven years, I have attended the same party at the same house in Nacogdoches. Merci and Tracy are known for their Halloween event and never failed to disappoint - a huge bonfire, spooky food and drink, live music, costume contests, and a few surprises each year to keep it fresh. (My favorite was the time they hung chicken bones from the trees along the dark path that led from the parking area to their home. So creepy!) No matter how busy my friends were or what we had going on, we always made it out to the Halloween party, dressed up and ready to celebrate.

So you can understand the wave of homesickness that rolled to shore on Friday, when I realized that Merci and Tracy's party was this weekend and I would not, in fact, be in attendance. I am a sucker for traditions and rituals and hated the fact that I would miss my first Halloween party in seven years.

Luckily, it's never too late to start a new ritual and Wilmington provided the perfect opportunity. Apparently, the MFA program at UNCW has a tradition of throwing an annual Halloween Party and MFA reading at a huge house known as The Mansion, which has many rooms and apartments within it's folds. At least one MFA student has lived there for many, many years, and that person, along with a group of students, volunteers to host and organize the reading and party. I can't speak for past years, since this was my first time attending, but I thought they did a great job.

I had no idea Princess Leia was such a talented poet!

The reading started at 8pm, with the party to follow directly. It was really fun to sit in a room full of folks dressed up as ghosts, killers, autumn, the Olsen twins, sandwiches, jellyfish, etc, and watch people in equally weird garb read poetry and prose. Some people read things that were funny or scary, others just read their usual work but added a few Halloween-themed haiku's. Everyone was wonderful, as usual. I would expect no less.

After we cheered and laughed and clapped, it was party time. Lots of people, lots of food, lots of creative costumes. Because I am super broke and short on time, I re-used my costume from last year. I figured no one in North Carolina has seen it yet, so why not? Minnie Mouse is timeless, after all.

Me and two of my favorite MFA peeps. I have a lot of favorites.

I ended up drinking red wine all night (Target wine cube, I love you) which means most of the other photos I've been tagged in feature me, sweaty from dancing and sporting purple-stained lips. C'est la vie.

Towards the end of the night, a very drunk young man began twirling fire on the front lawn, much to the party's unease. Our fears were founded because he ended up briefly catching on fire and not really doing anything to put himself out. Nathan and the husband of an MFA friend had to smother the flames, which the drunk young man did not appreciate. We left shortly after, as it seemed a good time to head out, but I heard that later the drunk dude tried to twirl his fire again, set himself on fire a second time, and that a fight broke out. I was glad we left when we did!

This is before things got ugly.

Despite the fire and the purple teeth, I had a great time and didn't get home until 5:00 AM. Needless to say Saturday was rough but I seem to have made a full recovery. I even went to a birthday party last night (though I didn't really drink) and a spin class at the YMCA today (which nearly killed me). I also finished a novel for class, before the day of class, and successfully folded and put away all the laundry. A good weekend and a great Halloween. Thanks, Wilmington. You make missing Nacogdoches a little easier to bear.

Up To Speed

Grad school is exhausting.

Hello, blog! Sorry for the disappearance, but it seems I've fallen into the black hole of graduate school and am only now emerging from that deep, dark place. On the bright side, I've established a rhythm of sorts: Sunday is crazy prep time for the week ahead, mostly taken up by reading the massive amount of pages I have due each week while lying on the couch with my feet tucked under a dog. (I said my life was busy now, not hard: big difference!) Monday and Tuesday are when I have the bulk of my classes and I'm on campus, darting from room to room for most of the day. Wednesdays I have off and spend most of the day writing, grading and preparing my lesson plan for Thursday's teaching stint. And then it's Friday and I can breathe again. It's busy and a little stressful, but I'm happy to report that I'm still loving every minute of it.

A recipe for beer.

Even with the breakneck speed of graduate school, I am finding time to relax and have fun. Last weekend, when we got back from our mini-camping trip, we drove to a local beer and wine brewer and bought some supplies to make a batch of beer. We haven't brewed since we moved to North Carolina and I'm looking forward to filling the house with the smell of hops.

BLOKUS!

I also had the pleasure of attending a potluck and a board game night, which are my two favorite ways to socialize. Better than the bar, for sure, but probably not better than a nice restaurant (though much cheaper!). For the potluck I made vegan pigs in a blanket, or, as I like to call them, tofu pups in a snuggie, which were the usual hit. They look exactly like their non-vegan counterparts and are just as unhealthy, but are fun party food nonetheless. Just take a package of vegan hot dogs, slice them into thirds, and wrap a bit of Pillsbury Crescent Roll dough around them. (Vegan by default, but mostly because they are 75% chemicals.) Bake at 350 for 12-15 minutes and arrange artfully on your Missoni plate from Target for some extra fanciness.

Vegan pigs in a blanket.

Last but not least, I have made good on my promise to keep my socializing to the weekends - with the exception of a trip to the bar Tuesday night for a friend's birthday. I was going to have two beers and then head home, as I had a lot of things to do on Wednesday, but while we were there about half the MFA program showed up and I ended up having four beers and staying up way too late. Needless to say, my Wednesday productivity was shot. On the bright side, I did manage to clean my whole house in lieu of actually writing. Still: lesson learned. Again. And probably not for the last time.

Java stout at Satellite.

I think that brings y'all up to speed. Tonight I am headed to a halloween party and literary reading (we read first and then we party - should be fun!) and tomorrow is another friend's birthday. Somewhere in there I will read a novel for class, brew five gallons of beer, run a bunch of miles (knee willing), and bake something Halloween themed. How about you?

Camping at Carolina Beach

There are two main beaches that are close to Wilmington - Wrightsville Beach, which is about ten miles away, and Carolina Beach, which is about 15. We spent the day Wrightsville Beach for my birthday back in August, but had not yet made it out to Carolina Beach. We were able to right that wrong this weekend, after we were invited on a last minute camping trip.

Sunrise over the beach.

Our trip was short and sweet. We packed up minimal gear, firewood, and two very excited pups, picked up the two friends with whom we were camping, and headed to the beach. The area we were aiming for is accessible by four wheel drive, which we don't have. This resulted in a lot of walking to drag our gear down the beach to the camping area (about a mile, give or take). Luckily, some nice guys with a truck drove our heavy bundles of firewood to our site for us, which was definitely the most cumbersome thing we would have had to carry. Three cheers for nice dudes at the beach!

Noon at the beach.

We did the usual - set up our tents, built a toasty fire, and drank the better part of a box of wine and a bottle of whiskey. I slept better in the tent than ever before - the soft sand, the sounds of the sea, and the sun coming up over the water in the morning kept me comfortable and warm. Plus two giant dogs make excellent snuggling partners. 

Our campsite.

Seamus looks for a couch, to no avail.

Calvin is very sleepy after a long night by the ocean.

It was a nice trip and an excellent break from the rush-rush-rush tempo at which I am currently living my life. Graduate school, I am finding, is a 24-7 gig - any time I'm home, I feel like I should be reading something, critiquing something, writing something. It takes getting away from my books and my laptop and the campus to really unwind, and I'm lucky that there is a beautiful beach less than 20 minutes away at which I can do just that.

Carolina Beach, I have a feeling we'll be seeing you again very, very soon!

11 Miles That Weren't

Where I found this lovely photo.

As soon as I knew I was moving to Wilmington, I found the calendar of a local running group and picked out a bunch of races that I wanted to run. Once I got here I remembered that races cost money and I am a poor graduate student, so I narrowed the field down to one - the Battleship Half Marathon, on November 6th. I've been training pretty consistently for this goal, averaging three runs a week, incorporating speed work, and forming a mini-running group that meets once a week for trips around the four mile loop at Greenfield Lake.

A week ago, I fell during what should have been an easy six miler. I rested my knee for a few days and kept it to short and easy runs. On Thursday I ran a glorious five miler, with an average pace of 8:50. (Speed work! It really makes a difference! Who would have guessed!) and then yesterday, I set out for 11 miles.

It was a bad run before I even started. Mentally, I was just not in the game. I didn't feel like running, I hadn't slept well the night before, and my motivation was zapped. "Chrissy," I told myself. "This is precisely the best time to run. It's easy to train when the weather's nice and you're feeling great. Anyone can do that. Days like this, however, are the days that count. These are the moments that separate the Runners from the People Who, On Occasion, Run."

I knew I was right (I'm always right) and so off I went. While I ran, I began crafting a great blog post about motivation and how training your mind is just as important as your body. The crux of this post was going to be the 11 miles that I finished, despite every fiber of my being asking me to go home and lay on the couch with a tub of hummus and the latest season of Glee. (Sometimes the thought of a good blog post is also highly motivating.) All was going according to plan when, at mile four, my knee started to hurt. And not the knee I fell on - the other knee. I tried to ignore the pain and that worked for a while. But then I took a break to stretch my knee and when I started running again - major pain. I realized, blog post be damned, it's never worth it to risk your knees.

I jogged another few minutes so I could round my run up to an even 6.5 and then walked the rest of the way home. My knee felt tender for the rest of the day and this morning I woke with some soreness. The half marathon is in two weeks and so far, my longest run was 10 miles, two weeks ago. This is not ideal training for a race at which I hoped to PR. I haven't registered yet, so I guess I'll give it another week and see what happens. If I can get a double digit run in next weekend, I'll feel ready enough for the half. If not, I'll save my money and find a smaller race to run instead. I'm also planning a renegade half marathon in December with some people in my program, for those of us who can't afford real race fees, so that's something. (We are going to make medals and shirts. More about that later!)

This is, of course, the hardest part about running. No matter how much you schedule, train and craft the ideal race schedule, something can happen at the last minute and throw all your carefully laid plans out the window. A wonky knee, an IT band, a fall on the pavement, a thunderstorm on the morning of the race, a sinus infection, a poor night's sleep. There's so much uncertainty in running. I try to think it as a metaphor for life and view of running as a way to help prepare us for the tragedies, big and small, that we experience every day. Which is helpful, sometimes. Mostly when my knee isn't bothering me.

In Which The Writer Gives Herself a Pep Talk

Photo credit.

I have been a very bad graduate student.

After our fall break trip to West Virginia, I dropped the MFA ball in a serious way. This week I had roughly 600 pages to read for two classes, a story to hand in for workshop, a response post to write for Blackboard, and a 2-4 page story written in the style of Austerlitz. Not the best time to procrastinate and yet I did exactly that, mostly by going to parties and to the bar and rewatching Parks and Rec on Netflix and then being too hungover to get anything productive done. In roughly three days, I managed to read all 600 pages and finish my workshop piece, but totally forgot to post to Blackboard and didn't remember the imitation exercise until twenty minutes before class. It was one of the worst things I've ever written and I wish I could un-hand it in. I don't have any classes tomorrow which is good, because I have five student pieces to critique and five revisions to grade for Thursday, not to mention it would be nice to have time to actually, you know, WRITE MY OWN WORK. In conclusion: for the last week I have sucked at grad school, and that is one week too long.

I know I've said this before, but I consider being in an MFA program a privilege. It took me two years, a lot of heartbreak, and a ton of work to get here. I gave up a lot of things to pursue this degree, included but not limited to a comfortable job and an amazing community of friends in Texas. None of that sacrifice will be worth it unless I make the most of the time I have been given. And really, three years is not that much time. I can't afford to waste it.

I feel like I've been focusing too much on the social aspect of the MFA experience. Don't get me wrong - it's important to be social and a writing community is a huge part of why I wanted to come to a program. But being a part of a community does not mean I have to RSVP to every event and go to the bar every night. Fun nights do not equal productive days, and the need to be productive is great than the need to be popular. I'm almost 30 years old - I do not need to be trying to keep up with people who are 5-7 years younger than me. Trust me when I say that it does not end well.

Here's my new plan: wake up every weekday morning and write, then run or go to yoga. Spend the rest of the day reading, grading, going to class, and getting things revised and ready for submission to literary journals. Friday and Saturday will be my going-out nights because I do enjoy bars and parties, just in moderation.

You see, it's easy to get caught up in the distractions. The new friends. The delicious beer. The weekend trips. But there needs to be a balance. I spent most of my 20's with friends, drinking and traveling and going to parties while working 40 hours a week and never having time to write and read. During those years, I daydreamed about when I would have the time, the space, the focus to write my novels and read my books. The time, quite clearly, is now.

New plan. New leaf. Grad school domination. I hope you're ready for this, because I finally am.

Bee Keeping 101

Way back in August, I attended a free screening of the documentary Vanishing of the Bees, hosted by the Tidal Creek Food Co-op. Before the film, I didn't know much about the plight of the bee, nor did I appreciate the huge role bees play in the world - without them, we wouldn't be able to grow food. And while I knew the bees were disappearing, I didn't realize the extent of the problem or the tragic place a world without bees would quickly become.


Vanishing of the Bees - Trailer from Bee The Change on Vimeo.

Here is one crazy thing I learned from the film: today, so much large scale farming is done as a monoculture (farms that grow thousands of acres of one item, such as soy or wheat) that bees no longer live in that area, as food (pollen) is only available once a year, when those crops flower. In order to get their crops pollinated, the farm owners RENT bees from bee keepers. Hives are shipped across the country, multiple times a year, then collected and shipped back to the bee keeper's base at the end of the season. It's hard to imagine how this method could possibly good for the bees, for the farm, or for the world.

So what can we do, besides getting riled up by documentaries and lamenting the vanishing bees? I will tell you what I did. On the way home from the movie I pulled out my phone and started looking up bee clubs in Wilmington. Not only did I find one (hello, New Hanover Beekeeping Association!) but I discovered they were were having a six week beginners course to bee keeping starting in October. We signed up immediately and last night, finally attended our first class.

On the agenda: Anatamoy, Life Cycles and Social Structures. Y'all, I don't know if you're aware but bees are FASCINATING. Here are some tidbits I wrote down in my notes (I see a creative nonfiction about beekeeping in my future):

• Worker bees are female and the drones are males. So just about every bee you see flying around and collecting pollen is a lady bee. All the drones do is have sex with the Queen and then die. In the fall, when mating season is over, the drones are kicked out of the hive because they eat too much and only serve one purpose. The feminist in me enjoyed this. (Kidding!) 
• 20,000 species of bees have been discovered; 4,000 species exist in the United States. The bee most often raised by beekeepers is the Italian Honey Bee, which is actually not a native species. 
• Honey never goes bad. There was a jar discovered in King Tut's tomb and it was still edible. (The lady sitting next to me told me this - I haven't confirmed it yet, but I desperately want to believe it.) 
• Queens are actually created by the worker bees, who are in charge of feeding eggs royal jelly. If they give an egg more jelly than the rest, that egg will grow into a Queen. In this way, the worker bees can overthrow a Queen if she's getting old, not producing enough eggs, and not keeping the hive unified. 
• The Queen secretes a pheromone which promotes unity and cohesiveness in the hive. This is what keeps the bees buzzing!
  

Clearly, I enjoyed the first class and am looking forward to the rest of the course (which includes a trip to an apiary!) as well as getting my first hive. A word about that: I considered beekeeping in the context of veganism and came to the conclusion that the situation here is the same as my chicken exception. I am not against animal products, but I am against large scale farming and animal cruelty. If I have my own animals, then I am morally okay with exchanging care and protection for a portion of their products (IE, eggs and honey). While I avoid those things in commercial and processed products, I don't mind consuming them when I know the source. And for anyone who thinks honey is vegan because insects don't count: watch Vanishing of the Bees. Your mind will be changed.

In addition! When people have their own hives, it actually helps the bees and is good for the environment. Research has shown that individual beekeepers have the least rate of colony collapse disorder (vanishing bees), which they believe is linked to the fact that they don't use pesticides or chemicals, and don't ship their hives all over the country. A biased view, I am sure, but it makes sense and the evidence is compelling. When we finally have our own hive, our bees will be healthy and happy, and will do the heavy lifting in our neighborhood as far as pollinating the flowers and trees goes. Caring for the environment is not just about putting out your recycling and turning off the light when you leave a room. There is so much more we can and must do!

So save the bees, please! And come back next week for more interesting bee facts.

Have a Nice Trip. See You Next Fall.

Last Friday I left the house and set out for a six mile tempo run around the neighborhood. Less than a mile into my run (.71 of a mile, to be exact!) I tripped on the sidewalk and fell hard. I managed to scrape both my palms, skin my right knee, bruise my left knee, dent my Garmin, and a acquire a nice patch of road rash on my left hip. When it comes to falling, I don't mess around.

This photo doesn't do my injuries justice.

After I fell, I hobbled home where Nathan kindly cleaned out my wounds and bandaged me up. I didn't run for two days and things seemed to be healing as they should. This morning I met some friends at Greenfield Lake, despite being terribly hungover (a bottle of wine is not the best pre-run fuel, it turns out) and decided that between the headache and the knee, it was best to cut my planned run down to a slow and easy four miler. The run went fine, minus a few waves of nausea, and I felt significantly less hungover once it was over.

But now, hours later, my knee is throbbing and I'm limping around the house. Super annoying because the half marathon I've been training for is in three weeks and I want to get in at least two more long runs, not to mention speed work (I've been doing 800's and they are HARD). Plus the weather is perfect right now and it seems shameful to enjoy it from the comfort of a cup of coffee on the porch.

I can't complain too much, though. Recently my friend sprained her ankle during an ultra marathon and hasn't been able to run in weeks. Another friend was in a bike accident and broke his nose, fractured his cheek, and chipped some teeth. A few bloggers I enjoy have suffered various injuries which have cleared their race schedules for the foreseeable future. All I have is a banged up knee. I'm pretty lucky when you think about it.

Lucky, but disappointed about all the running and yoga I'm missing out on. I hope when my knee is 100% I'll remember this feeling and be grateful every time my sneakers slap against the street. Until then: patience (and pouting). 

Quality Over Quantity

These Wilmington photos don't have anything to do with this post. I just like them.

Since I moved to Wilmington this summer, I haven't been blogging as much. At first it was because it took us over three weeks to get the Internet hooked up and blogging from my phone was cumbersome. Then school started and I was busy learning how to be a student again. Now I have Internet at home, I'm settled into my new routine, and still - I'm blogging less, averaging about three times a week. What gives?

I'll tell you what. I don't have as much to say. Seems crazy, considering I'm in a new town, in a new part of the country, in the throes of an MFA program, and awash in new experiences and adventures. The difference is that I'm not at a desk 40 hours a week and when I do have time to sit down and write I am choosing to instead work on my fiction rather than my blog. Which is necessary and wonderful and the whole point of living in Wilmington, but still - I miss rambling here daily, about whatever pops into my mind. The longer I go between posts, the more pressure I feel to make a reappearance that will knock your socks off. And that kind of pressure makes blogging - a hobby, a diversion, a way to relax and unwind - anything but.

What to do? For one, keep blogging. I don't think I could give up my little space on the Internet even if I wanted to, and I definitely don't want to. To me, blogging is an art - unique in it's freedoms and constraints, a form that suits a certain kind of writing and thinking, and a tool to capture and document a person's story, as it unfolds. I like fitting my thoughts and dreams into short(ish) posts, taking photos to capture important or just pretty moments of my life, and sharing my story with my small but kind and thoughtful circle of readers. I have made real friends through blogging, and if I left this space behind I would miss them very much. 

Which is all to say: I will keep blogging, most likely forever. But for the forseeable future, I will be focusing on quality over quantity. I thought about making a blogging schedule (Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 8:00 AM ET) but again - that puts too much pressure on a thing which is suppose to be fun. So instead, I'll just write when I have something to say, leave more comments on the blogs that I love, and write the heck out of some short stories and, soon, a novel.

So how about this: you keep blogging and reading and commenting, and so will I. Deal? Deal.

Wild and Wonderful West Virginia

Sorry for the disappearance, blog friends! But I have a good excuse. We spent the last three days in the mountains of West Virginia, hiking, rafting, rock climbing, and playing some mean games of Hearts at our campsite. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

Our route - Good thing I like long drives.

My university has this fancy little thing called "Fall Break," which is basically a four day weekend in the middle of the semester. We decided, rather last minute, to go on a camping trip with two new friends. M is in my MFA program and her boyfriend, E, moved to Wilmington with her. They're super active and adventurous people (traveling all over the world, competing in ultra-marathons, and down for just about anything) which means they're perfect friends for us. M and E had gone whitewater rafting in West Virginia earlier this year and learned that in October, when the damn is drained, the Gauley River is home to some of the most intense rafting in the country. Naturally, we had to check it out.

Waking up to this makes for an excellent morning.

We left Sunday morning, drove for seven hours, and ended up here - at our campsite in the New River Gorge, next to the river itself, and surrounded by the most gorgeous trees that were just beginning to don their autumn colors. After living in Texas for so long, experiencing an actual fall season was dramatic, to say the least.

Our intrepid adventurers!

Breaking hearts and shooting the moon.

We spent the first night setting up camp and playing Hearts around the fire while drinking wine (for the ladies) and beer (for the boys). I've been on a serious wine kick lately - there's nothing better on cool autumn evenings. We've played Hearts before but needed to look up the rules for a reminder and discovered that we have never played with the Black Maria, which is crazy. She was the best part of the game! If you know what I'm talking about, good for you. If not, get yourself a deck of cards and Wikipedia, and dedicate an evening to Hearts. You won't be sorry!

The next morning we woke up early, had granola and almond milk + coffee, and drove to meet the rafting group. Unfortunately, only the guys were rafting this time. M sprained her ankle during her ultra-marathon a few weeks ago and it was still swollen, so she couldn't raft. I've never been and they recommend previous experience on this particular route, so I decided to stay behind with M. I was disappointed but managed to console myself with a few things. One, we plan to come back next year for a longer trip and raft down two sections of the river, which I will be able to do. Two, M and I had a chance to explore Fayetteville, WV and eat an awesome lunch, which is always nice. And Three, by not rafting I saved myself $100, which is kind of necessary right now. So: disappointed, but for the best.

The guys, on the other hand, had a blast on the river. They were gone for about five hours and M and I managed to hike to an outlook near a bend in the river and take some photos of rafts heading down the rapids. I have no idea if the guys were in any of these boats, but it was fun to pretend that we caught them on camera. The river looked wild and for a moment I was glad I'd stayed behind. But only for a moment.

The Gauley River.

Rafts approaching the rapids.

And they're off!

Hello, Autumn! I've missed you!

One more shot of the river. Gorgeous. Or GORGES, if you're punny.

As I mentioned, the ladies did not sit by the river and pine while the boys were out adventuring. Oh, no. We took our photos and then drove to nearby Fayetteville (the Coolest Small Town, according to a sign), explored the quaint streets, and had the best lunch ever.

Adorable!

Menu at the Vandalian. Such a great find!

NOM NOM NOM.

The Vandalian.

We ended up eating at the Vandalian, which was the best little restaurant I've ever randomly stumbled upon. West Virginia is gorgeous but the focus in this particular area was more on natural wonders and less on small luxuries, so I didn't have high hopes for a vegan-friendly meal in the little town near the river. Oh, how wrong I was! The Vandalian looked cute so we went inside and we were blown away. An extensive wine menu (we each had a glass, which was perfect) and absolutely delicious lunches. I had a Spicy Thai Burrito, which had just the right amount of heat and so satisfying. After lingering over our wine we finally bid the Vandalian goodbye, promised to return next year, and made our way down the street to see what else Fayetteville had to offer. A theater showing Steel Magnolias, an outdoors store where we got some great rock climbing tips, a bakery, vintage stores and a Cajun restaurant, among other things. The Coolest Small Town was an excellent slogan.

Sadly, the Hobbit Hole wasn't open.

Once the boys were done rafting we got some coffee, visited the New River Gorge Bridge, which is the third largest arch bridge in the WORLD (the photo below doesn't do it justice) and then drove to a rock climbing spot we had heard about for some top roping. I haven't climbed in a long time and didn't make much progress up the wall but it was fun to hang out with other climbers and remember why I once loved to climb. Definitely a hobby we have to get back into, and when we come back next year for rafting we plan to dedicate a whole day to climbing. This was just a preview.

The New River Gorge Bridge.

A friendly caterpillar.

Nathan climbing up the crack.

That night we camped again, played some more Hearts, and polished off two more bottles of wine. When we woke up, we had a leisurely morning of coffee by the river, which was now covered in fog. Just as it started to rain lightly, we packed up our gear and started the long, long drive home. We had such wonderful weather for most of our trip that we couldn't be upset about the rain on the last morning. In fact, it made it a little easier to say goodbye to West Virginia.

Fog hanging heavy over the river.

Our campsite, before the rain started.

Clearly, we had a great time on our last minute trip. I've spent so much of the last seven years camping in East Texas that being in West Virginia felt like a foreign country. Even if we just drove through the mountains and gazed at the leaves changing, I would have been happy. I forget sometimes how diverse the US is - watching the landscape shift and change as we drove over bridges and through mountains was a powerful and beautiful thing.

Today I'm back home in Wilmington, drinking coffee and giving my massive to-do list the side eye. But first: an easy five mile run and a trip to the dog park. Priorities, people. Priorities.

Home Envy Strikes Again

Now that we're finally beginning to feel settled in our new place, the old feelings of Home Envy are rising within me. It all started with Pinterest, which was supposed to be a tool to help me collect pretty photos and inspire my home decor choices, but quickly spiraled into a full-on pout, bemoaning all the lovely things I would never, ever have. I know, I know - these photos are extremely styled, they don't indicate a perfect life beneath the surface prettiness, and we should be judged not by the content of our homes but by how nicely we treat other people. And yet. And yet.

Source: designspongeonline.com via Chrissy on Pinterest

Source: houzz.com via Chrissy on Pinterest

Source: apartmenttherapy.com via Chrissy on Pinterest

Oh, Pinterest. You should come with a warning. "Contents may depress the shit out of you."

It's really not that bad and I know I should stop complaining and just be grateful that I have a roof over my head, a good man, two cuddly dogs to keep me warm at night, and a fancy laptop on which to write white whines to my heart's (dis)content. And yet. And yet.

We still don't have a book shelf. Or a kitchen table. Or headboards on the beds. And the water heater was leaking the other day, but I'm ignoring it for now. And the kitchen floor sinks in spots, but I'm ignoring that too. And the driveway floods every time it rains, which is every day, which means our porch and entry way is always speckled with dirt and mud. And the doors stick. And cabinets smell musty. And the dogs drool on the new couch, which is looking decidedly less new already. And, and, and.

A few nights ago I had a dream that we found an apartment hidden in our attic. It was huge - much bigger than the house (which made perfect sense in the dream). It had three bedrooms, a balcony, tons of cool furniture, and a huge kitchen with a long island in the middle. It was clear that our landlady had no idea the apartment existed and we decided she didn't need to know. We slowly migrated all our furniture upstairs and lived there instead. And it was perfect and lovely and beautiful, and suddenly life was amazing.

Most of the time, I like my house and - more importantly - I love the life that I am living while in it. But it's easy to get caught up in the idea that a perfect home equals a perfect life, even when I know that isn't true. Moral of the post: keep pinning, keep dreaming, keep planning, but never forget to be grateful for what you've got. And if it turns out that apartment really does exist, well, you'll know where to find me.

The Vega Breakfast Challenge

A few weeks ago, I was invited to take part in the Vega Breakfast Challenge.

First of all, what is Vega? It's a health food line of created by vegan triathlete Brendan Brazier. He writes the Thrive books, aimed at vegan athletes, which I've read and enjoyed. His books contain super healthy recipes - they're almost always vegan, raw, nutrient dense, and created specifically with the athlete in mind. And yet... I've never made any of the actual recipes! I'm wary about raw foods, a dehydrated pizza doesn't sound very appetizing, and I'm comfortable and settled in the way I cook and eat - which is already pretty healthy as is. If it ain't broke...

But when Vega contacted me to try out samples of their Complete Whole Food Health Optimizer, I had to say yes. I received four pouches of Vega mix in four flavors: Berry, Vanilla Chai, Chocolate, and Natural. All the flavors boasted being gluten free, soy free, dairy free and low in calories, as well as containing 100% of your daily vitamins and minerals and 60% of your daily intake of fiber. Not too shabby!

As part of the challenge, I was asked to use a calculator found on the Vega website to compare my usual breakfast to Vega. I'm a creature of habit and I eat the same thing almost every morning - a bowl of cereal with almond or soy milk. Lately, I've been buying a big box of Multi Grain Cheerios at Target, because I'm poor now and it's a damn good deal. 

I plugged my Cheerios + milk into the calculator and here's how it compared to one serving of Vega:

Wow! My breakfast is pretty good, but Vega is the clear winner. Almost three times as much protein, a fraction of the sugar, four times the fiber, tons of Omega-3's, no sodium and it definitely wins on vitamins and minerals (look at all that calcium!). So clearly, Vega wins the nutritional profile round. But let's be honest. It doesn't matter how great something is on paper. If it doesn't taste good, I'm not going to eat it. And cereal and soy milk tastes really, really good.

First, a disclaimer: I am really not a fan of drinks in general, unless we're talking coffee and wine. I subsist on water as a general rule. Thus, I recruited Nathan to help me review Vega, as he would have a less biased opinion. We tried the chocolate and berry flavors first. Flavor-wise, berry was definitely the winner - it had a slight sweetness that was pleasing, while the chocolate was kind of grassy. (Grassy chocolate sounds weird, but that is the best description I can come up with.) I didn't really like the drink - it was a little chalky and I had a hard time dissolving the powder in the water. It was definitely better than other powdered energy drinks I've tried, so I'll give it that much, but overall I was not impressed.

Nathan, on the other hand, had a more favorable opinion. While he agreed that it was a bit chalky, he liked the flavor and didn't seem bothered by the texture. He also noticed a spike in his energy after drinking it, which for Nathan in the morning is saying a lot. Final verdict? "Very healthy and super convenient, but not something I'd drink every day."

So while Vega clearly beats my cereal and soymilk combo, it doesn't win on taste. I'd like to keep a few packets around for days when I'm rushed or on the road, as it's an easy way to get a quick and nutritious meal, but that's about the extent of it.

Thanks to Vega for the samples and the chance to try out their products. If you're interested, you can become a fan of Vega on Facebook and follow them on Twitter for deals and coupons. Happy breakfasting!