Weekend

This weekend was my first one off since I quit my second job a couple of weeks ago.  (Did I mention that I quit waiting tables?  Oh yeah, I did, and it is nothing short of incredible to have two full days off each weekend.)

And how did I spend it?  In the kitchen, of course.

See, my students have their big end of the year test tomorrow, and in an effort to bribe them (in addition to a full week of test prep and a year of harping on them about things like subject/verb agreement and what a simile is) to study and do well on their test, I made them some goodies.  Some pretty darned tasty goodies, if I do say so myself.  

So Saturday was all about kitchen bitchin', as Grandma Carol says.  It was both wonderful and exhausting. 

 

Dishes, and more dishes, and more dishes.

Sunday started off in a similar vein, and then I got some very sad, very hard news from a friend--the kind of news that makes you want to just hug your Matt and your Mitch a little tighter (the kind of news that meant that for much of the rest of the night, Mitch would be licking tears off of my face).  

I'm struggling to be enthusiastic or excited about stuff right now, but I think, sometimes, that during these  times when your heart feels so heavy, it's even more important than ever to soak up and reflect upon all of the lovely things about life.  And there are so many, aren't there?

Like good friends.

And dogs.

And ice cream.

And crazy sisters.

And cozy beds.

And wine.

And hydrangeas.

And Wendy's spicy chicken sandwiches.

And Matts.

And math jokes.

Blah.

You know that saying, "If you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all"?  Well, I kind of half-way subscribe to that.  I mean, I'll be the first one to rant about Teen Mom, and I love to gripe and complain about stuff.  Who doesn't, really?

But I've noticed on other blogs and Facebook (oh, the evil Facebook), that when all people do is bitch and moan, I begin to lose interest and/or judge them more and have to fight off the temptation to be all, "Shut up with your whinin' and complainin'!"  So I have a little rule for myself on Facebook and the ole bliggity blog, which is that I have to have an 8:1 ratio of positive stuff to negative stuff.  (Yes, I did pull out the thesaurus for this post.)  I don't want to be phony or misrepresent our life or anything, but I don't think people come here to read passages where I act like a little baby not getting her way.

That said, this has been a pretty sucky week.  Work has sucked, lots of home stuff has sucked, the weather has sucked, and I'm tired and cranky and sad and kind of sick but not sick enough to call into work.  And life is sucking even more for many of those close to me, which is extra super sucky* and just makes me more sad (and more annoyed with myself for being so down about my own small problems).  I've been in the mood for the last couple of days where I just want to find the most sad movie that I can, and I want to get a loaf of sourdough French bread and a plate of cookies and a box of wine, and I just want to sit and cry until I can't cry anymore so that hopefully it'll be out of my system and I can get over it already.

But there's work to do and papers to grade and houses to clean and taxes to file, so I need to soldier on for a couple of more days.  And if I'm still feeling like a whiny baby, then I'll go watch Blue Valentine or that rabbit movie where Nicole Kidman loses her kid and I'll ugly cry until I'm out of tears.  But you probably won't hear about that.  Unless I can find eight happy things to tell you about first.

So, you'll hear from me when I poke my head out of the other side of this mess.  In the meantime, I'll leave you with something delicious, an oldie but a goodie, the Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookie.** 

*Apparently it's not a very good thesaurus.

**There's one.  Now I just need seven more happy things.

My Muffin Tops

My blueberry muffin baking endeavor started off fine this morning. I had my fresh blueberries. . .


And I started to reduce them to make some jam. . . (This is a Cook's Illustrated recipe, so it's involved.)



And then I don't know what happened. Maybe it was because I shouldn't bake when I'm tired, or maybe I shouldn't bake when I'm sad. Maybe it was the tiny bit of water on the fresh blueberries I added, or maybe I need to replace my baking powder. One thing is for sure: I took the instruction "batter should completely fill cups and mound slightly" to the extreme.

This is what I got.


Siamese-twin looking blueberry muffins.

At least they're delicious.