Question of the day– Why is grilled cheese so delicious, yet so simple? So I’m actually boiling some chicken pot pie ravioli from Trader Joe’s (TJs, I owe you one!), but I think I might just make myself a grilled cheese sandwich for a snack today, just because.
Is it a sign that I’m a grownup that I get excited when the Tuesday grocery ads come so I can plan what groceries I’m going to buy? Also, grapes are in season and 88cents a pound at Sprouts! Now normally I’m not a huge fan of grapes, but since it’s the season, I think I might venture out and try them again.
Wait, what? Yes, there is actually a VIDEO about this.
… Now I’m generally not one to be wow’d by how-to food videos, but this one, I was like, wait, really? Is it a cultural thing? Do most people really not know how to peel oranges? Hm.
Mom peeled oranges for me and my brother all the time growing up. The prize for finishing dinner was fruit for dessert. Mom always peeled the fruit for us and placed it in our bowls, like the spoiled children we were. It was a simple process, one I could copy easily. She would make a few long cuts lengthwise around the orange and two crosswise cuts near the top and the bottom, just deep enough to get to the skin but not too deep that juice would start spilling out. She’d peel the thick skin off the top and bottom, and then peel the slivers of skin from the sides. You’d end up with a nice round ball covered with remaining white, soft ridges of what my parents liked to called “fiber” or pith. Sometimes they peeled it off, and sometimes, they left some of it on for our health. Ugh, my favorite. Then, the orange would get split in two and we would be able to peel off the slices of orange without any mess.
I wonder if it’s an Asian thing to prepare oranges like this? In fact, I didn’t know how to cut an orange into pretty slices because we never did it that way. I always felt that cut slices of oranges tasted slightly better though, and my theory is that’s probably because with the slice, the pith isn’t the first part that hits your tongue.
Speaking of Asian, the husband and I went to visit Colorado this weekend. We noticed the food there is decidedly Boulder (bolder, ha ha .. !), and saltier. So the rumors are true. I wouldn’t mind living in the middle of America though. The skies were actually a lovely blue, and you could still see the stars at night. No smog or city lights to drown out their shine.
Recently I’ve been going through a shopping craze. And by that I mean, adding things to a shopping cart online and not going through with it after reading reviews from the BBB. I mean browsing through hundreds of pictures of dresses and inspiration. I mean sending pictures to my friends and hubby and asking them what they think. I mean wondering what my skin tone is, whether it’s warm yellow and cool yellow. It’s UGH time consuming. Stop being so glamorous, fashion bloggers!
This is going to be a lot of rambling, and not in the least bit interesting, just warning you.
So I recently bought a bag from ThredUp because my bag finally lost its magnetic clasp to the wind somewhere at the school I work for. Of course it did. I’m so glad I have a work hoodie that I wear everyday because it’s been a few weeks and it already has highlighter and who knows what else all over it. Anyway, back to the purse. So I’m kind of excited cause I got a great deal on it, and it should be in “excellent” condition even though it’s secondhand. But here’s the thing, I’m also worried people will judge me for the brand (Am I the judgmental one? Oh dear) and think I spent hundreds of dollars on a purse. So there I was, weighing these things, debating whether I should get a purse. UGH. BUT I also read that the quality is actually better with these expensive branded bags, and they can last you a long time, versus my bags my relatives get me from Asia which start shedding fabric chips after a year or so. (I love you Mom and Auntie and all the bags you’ve ever gotten me I promise!) The thing is, if I get something that lasts, that means I’m also kind of stuck with it for awhile. This could be either a good or bad thing. A day or so later, I found another purse that looked really cute, and I started to regret that I didn’t wait. I know, the drama.
Next up in life as an adult– need to identify the bug that has been biting me in my sleep. I’m so scared! And looking up answers on the internet makes it worse because there are so many gross pictures.
Pretty pictures of tulips instead of bugs found here.
Today’s dinner was a messy conglomeration of half defrosted chicken that baked in the oven for so long and was still pink (but safe to eat, we found out) and salad. There was rice too, but we forgot about it. Life has been tricky in the cooking department. Meal planning is still not my forte, I mean, preference. I mean I think about meal planning, and I just don’t want to do it. The idea of making food that I possibly wanted to eat a few days ago but may not want to eat the day of seems miserable. Is it more miserable than finding out we spent too much money on pho and In-N-Out because we didn’t feel like eating dumplings that night, and there was nothing planned? I’m not sure.
I haven’t balanced last month’s money ins and outs yet. Being grown up is hard sometimes. As a teen, I hoped to be grown up by 18. But when 18 rolled around, I felt quite juvenile. Now, I’m a lot older than 18, and if I consider my age and what I thought I would accomplish by now for too long, well, it can be discouraging. Often times, I look for inspiration to start something new. Guidance of some sort. Tips, rules, someone’s past experiences and knowledge, anything I can hang onto. It’s nice that we live in the age of Internet now, where so much information is readily available. But I think for me, sometimes it results in analysis paralysis and a perfectionism that might not have been as common in a world less connected.
I’m pooped. Goodnight.
That’s right, I used an exclamation point. I finally received a letter of acceptance from CSULB. So that’s where I will be next Fall. I’m happy that it finally happened after all this time, and now I can move on to the next stage of life, that is, figuring out where I’m going to be living. No but really, it has been a long time coming. So long, that I’m not really excited about it. I’m just glad it’s settled, nervous about change, and hopeful for the sunshine.
There’s a lot I have come to finally be comfortable with here. My place in the church life, my small groups, my young people, my housemates, my coworkers. It’s not all cheery, but I feel like the dust is settling, in a good way. So maybe that wasn’t the best analogy. I feel like the tide is low. The waves aren’t so violent and unpredictable. The ocean is lapping against the sand in a gentle, methodical way. Still moving, but quietly.
I feel like I have learned so much, but maybe I feel like that with every passing year. There is always more to see, more to do, more to learn, more to experience. All of a sudden, my teenage presumption is so apparent to me. All of a sudden, I feel old. Not wrinkly old. Just old enough to not know everything anymore, as a delightful Bubba Gump quote once said, and decide that it’s okay that way.
I used to wish the Lord would tell me everything at once. What He liked, what He didn’t like, what He wanted. And that I would comply. It would be like the tablets given to the children of Israel. That’s what I wanted. The law. But I found out that He knew what I could bear and what I could not. I found out that He’s not in the business of giving answers, but in the business of mingling. I found out that there is more to life than living it perfectly. And I found out that His mercy is flowing, oh the grace.
I never thought I would find so much supply in a simple hour of Bible study with some brothers and sisters I hardly know on a human level. We only met this year and most of them live in the city, but now that we are getting into 2 Timothy with the footnotes, I feel fed each week. Nothing is that profound and sometimes I have nothing to say, but somehow I feel the Lord is there, blessing our coming together to simply be in His Word and ministry.
I also got a chance to pray with B today. I don’t know what it is about praying with someone with whom I have two years of solid prayer with, but it is true that somehow, we know each other’s spirits and are built up together. The distance may be there, the human situations may be there, but when we pray, oh how I am reminded of what we have and what is eternal.
I have come to the conclusion that I am incredibly blessed to have grown up amongst believers who endeavored to live Christ. No, none of them were perfect, but in a world where I am surrounded by those who would care nothing for Him, I am made clear of the blessings of being a “child of Zion” so they say. To be among those who fear God, is better than to be among those who curse Him.
“It’s fun to be almost grown up in some ways, but it’s not the kind of fun I expected, Marilla. There’s so much to learn and do and think that there isn’t time for big words.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables