An Ode to Angel Bites

There once lived a lovely woman named Kathy and she made angel bites. She owned an amazing deli; her additional role was wedding catering. She probably catered other events but you could always find her at bridal expos. Whatever cakes didn’t sell or perhaps she had extra pieces of cake – she’d use those to form cake bites. I believe it probably started with vanilla cake (angel bites) and chocolate cake (devil bites). Eventually she made lemon bites, red velvet bites, carrot cake bites, etc. That lemon was superb!

love note from mini

After many years, she closed her storefront. People were devastated. Me. I’m people. Then I moved away expecting to never have another angel bite in my life. Fast forward to last week. I’d heard rumors that Kathy’s relatives had resurrected her recipe and occasionally sold the elusive bites in some downtown local businesses. But every time I went to those businesses – no angel bites. Luck would have it, I stopped by The Shops whilst attempting to kill time. Ta-da! Angel bites! 4 boxes later (and a truly inspiring conversation with a woman my age who had a recent hip replacement), I was on my way, angel bites in hand. Pretty sure mini ate 2 for breakfast. Maybe I did, too.

To celebrate our birthday and lucky number, Spare Parts and I went shopping, spa’d, ate cake, sushi, and did all kinds of other things. Because why not? 37 isn’t a landmark birthday but we made the most of it! Just like the family of Kathy who continue creating glorious bites of cake that only the strongest sugar molecules can withstand.

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I ask you –

Have you ever eaten anything like an angel/devil bite?

How did you celebrate your most recent birthday?

Write a love note to someone and surprise them with it!

(The post An Ode to Angel Bites first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

What Frustration Looks Like + A Moment of Joy

Some days just suck the life right out of you. It’s like the universe has found a way to keep you humble. I probably go through this cycle at least twice a week. Hello, humility, my old friend. But it really puts a damper on my faith in humanity, especially when it becomes so laden with negativity and completely ridiculous requests. We’re a needy, selfish society. We’re human. But, sometimes … I just want to slap some sense into people!

Nonetheless, I take a long walk, ponder, pray, consider throat punching a few folks, keep walking until it passes, and then reach my destination with a big smile because they have no idea I wanted to kick them in the shins. If only they’d let me sit closer in that meeting…

My muse explained how moments where you can just “be” are vital to strong mental health and staying grounded when life gets out of control. Just be. But what does that look like exactly? In a changing perspective of how to get to yes, it feels almost impossible. And why do I have to get to yes? Yes is hard and has responsibilities. I don’t want to get to yes. I want to say no! Alas, bending whilst not breaking is an art I have yet to perfect.

You know who does have life figured out? That beautiful woman above. In my eyes, she walks on water. She probably has wings hidden beneath her blouse. Her smile is everything to me. And I’m pretty partial to the mini me standing beside her, too. It was a short visit but one that my heart remembers long after we’ve left. What’s to be frustrated about at 95 yrs old?

Which reminds me of sitting at a restaurant some nights ago. A lovely older woman walked in with cash in her hand and a big smile on her face. For whatever reason, I looked up, made eye contact, and smiled back. Because the world needs more happy people. She walked directly over to me and said “He wants a burger and look at how I’m dressed!” I assumed she meant her spouse or someone who had driven her. As she opened her coat and showed me her wrinkled attire, I smiled and told her she looked beautiful. She replied, “Well, at 94, I don’t think anyone will notice!” She waved as she left with her to-go order.

I’ll probably never see her again but it’s a joy when someone comes along and brightens your day without any ulterior motives. Maybe it is possible to just be.

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I ask you –

Is there a phrase that resonates with you?

How often do you want to kick someone in the shin?

Tell me your thoughts on being 94/95 years old! I hope I have a false cane to whack people with!

(The post What Frustration Looks Like + A Moment of Joy first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Miss Big Mouth

Let’s overcomplicate things, shall we? Most definitely rhetorical sarcasm. I inquired about some training I need to satisfy an additional duty at work. The answer I received was this: it should only be an hour or two. Well, which is it?! And what do you mean by “only”?

In referencing additional duties – the Navy calls them collateral duties – an argument ensued between my team and an individual over the concept of additional duty vs primary duty. I thought it was self-explanatory but I was wrong. You see, everyone has additional duties. Military, civilian, contractors, all of us. So when someone uses the phrase this is my additional duty, it hits me wrong because we all have them, aka it’s not an excuse to disregard the duty. Next time, I’ll draw pictures.

How to make a corsage. Step 1: don’t. Hire your sister. Or mother. Depends. But this is what she gets for volunteering to make my niece’s prom corsage. Hope she’s keeping notes. Her additional duty.

When I wake up at the butt crack of dawn to finish a paper and discussion post so I can focus on a different paper of a million words and a gazillion pages – that’s a primary duty. Does this require any further explanation?

No questions please. The demonstration is over.

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I ask you –

What is the civilian terminology for additional or collateral duties?

Are you creative enough to make a corsage? Definitely not.

Tell me the page length of the longest document you’ve ever written!

(The post Miss Big Mouth first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

On a Lighter Note

The unofficial holiday nicknamed take your child to work day happened recently. I do believe it is a holiday.

From party time to petting the de facto fitness mascot to playing a rousing game of racquetball, I think the day was a success. She also acquired some new relatives. Meet Aunt Tim. It’s hard to find good help so I guess she’s hired.

She also added 3 extra days to my calendar which I didn’t notice until the following morning. When does February have 31 days?! It makes sense – she adds gray hair to my head, eternal sighs of weariness, and calendar days. Why not. To me, it felt like the longest day ever but as she was falling asleep that night, she exclaimed it was her favorite day ever and when could we do it again.

I’m just thankful my office phone hasn’t worked in …going on… 18 days now. Because if it had been, good grief.

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I ask you –

Have you ever taken your child(ren) to work? How did that work out?

Is having an inoperable office phone really a bad thing? Rhetorical, of course.

Tell me a few things the people in your life give you! example, a hard time

(The post On a Lighter Note first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

I Take My Chances

Anything shorter than 10 pages is a break. I’m just counting down the days until spring break. For me, that’s 10 whole days of no due dates. For mini, it’s a vacation from school and a trip to Tennessee.

First, we have to navigate parent-teacher conferences, class parties, and probably something else I’m forgetting. Book fair. That’s what it was. I wrote a post last year on the quality of book fairs and how they are definitely not what I remember. It was sad. But like any good parent with a short memory and dumbfounded hope, I will attend the book fair again and most likely be talked into $50 worth of easily lost erasers and a book that interests neither of us. Remind me of this conversation later.

I often forget to take care of myself but lately – just the last week, really – I’ve attempted to fill my bucket, so to speak. First, a coffee date with an amazing mentor who reminds me we’re fighting the good fight and we have each other. Then, a phone call with the one and only Aunt Mary Catherine who I can hear smile through the speakers. We’re visiting soon and just the thought of seeing her gives me renewed joy and hope.

Finally, a mad dash to course completion in the hopes that I can read a book other than required readings. Possibility? I might have a better chance at running more than once per week. And that’s saying something because I haven’t managed this successfully in weeks. Right now, I’m just living for the tiny zing I get when I realize I’ve written another page in a long line of pages.

Details, you know.

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I ask you –

Any upcoming vacation plans?

How much will I spend at the book fair?

Tell me some chances you’ve taken lately!

(The post I Take My Chances first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

A Few of My Favorite Things

Mini’s family in Tennessee uttered the words “…she’s funny sometimes” in reference to my blog so basically I’m a celebrity now. bowing gracefully

The holidays certainly brought about travel woes for a huge part of the population. Mini did not escape unscathed either. As flights were delayed, then cancelled, the decision was made to drive instead. So, after another short delay, mini was on her way to a Tennessean Christmas, complete with snow!

In the meantime, I enjoyed a few of my own favorite things. Like, a gift card to Common Grounds, the base coffee shop, courtesy of my twin. As they no longer accept cash, gift cards are the currency of choice.

Hand created, in fact!

Also, this wonderful cup! Tis true.

Constant disclaimer

As I don’t drink milk, finding a suitable replacement has proven to be very difficult. I’m confident I get enough protein and vitamins from other sources, but milk is such a wonderful recovery option post-run/post-workout. Lucky for me, I discovered fa!rlife. I love each flavor, but chocolate is definitely my favorite.

I’m positive I could have found so many other favorite things to share here, but I probably shouldn’t overdo it. Not yet anyway.

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I ask you –

Did you receive any gift cards for the holidays?

Do you have a constant disclaimer? Do tell!

Tell me about your favorite things!

(The post A Few of My Favorite Things first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Bamboozled

What’s another word for bamboozled? Let me tell you a little story –

There once was a little girl who began to come home with self-reported blurry vision and headaches. Her mother was very worried and made an eye appointment with a trusted optometrist. The closest appointment wasn’t for a few weeks so the girl’s mother called several times to ask for cancellations and open slots. Lo and behold, an appointment opened and the girl was able to be seen about 10 days before the originally scheduled appointment.

The little girl was so happy. She behaved extremely well during the exam and dilation process. But when the doctor arrived in the room, he explained there was nothing wrong with the girl’s eyesight.

But there is a behind the scenes story not many are privy to. You see, the girl’s entire family struggled with vision issues. Nearly all wore glasses or some sort of eye correction. So when the girl complained of eye problems, it came as no surprise.

Further, the girl’s eyesight seemed to change nearly daily. Sometimes she requested to sit closer to the television because she just couldn’t see. Other times she seemed fine and would sit further back. The lack of consistency in her vision was puzzling. One minute could see a sign in the distance, the next not so much. Her mother began to wonder.

When the doctor said he couldn’t find a reason for the girl’s inability to see, the mother accepted it as truthful. After all, the girl had been examined with multiple instruments, including dilation and had taken special pictures to see the entire eyeball. Fascinating really. The only thing the doctor could come up with is perhaps the girl needed a slight prescription for readers. The girl was overjoyed at this news.

Later that evening, the girl went to pick out her new pair of glasses. As she gleefully examined things through the lenses of her beautiful blue light glasses (note: blue light glasses, not readers, not a pair of glasses with any Rx tied to them), she proudly explained to anyone who would listen how her new glasses helped her see. Suddenly she was running again (which she had stopped doing for fear of falling). She showed off the glasses to strangers and asked photos be sent to all her relatives sharing her blue spectacles.

During homework that same night, the young girl read every word easier than ever. Seems blue light glasses solved her every concern, as well as knowing her many friends who also have glasses would welcome her with open arms into their exclusive club. Her teacher would be so excited for her. Her family’s admiration would live on endlessly.

The placebo effect is real. If you don’t believe me, just ask my mini. She’s an expert!

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I ask you –

Did you ever bamboozle your parents?

Do you wear spectacles?

Tell me your thoughts on the placebo effect!

(The post Bamboozled first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Some Holiday Things

The holidays are laden with good food! My sister and I took a chance on making our own homemade cranberry sauce because Aunt Mary Catherine’s is a tradition. We went heavy on the orange but I thought it was splendid!

We even did some Black Friday shopping. It wasn’t bad at all. I thought surely there would be millions of people out, cue the angry mobs – alas, not so much. Not even at Walmart! Gasp.

Of course I didn’t get anything on the Christmas list but whatever. I have a few more weekends of procrastination. We did take mini to the “spa”. Somehow she conned her way into the full princess treatment complete with snacks. This girl. Then she couldn’t be peeled off the walls the remainder of the afternoon.

Who knew a mani/pedi was the ticket to a girl’s heart? Me. I did.

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I ask you –

What is your signature holiday dish?

Do you shop on black Friday? Cyber Monday?

Tell me about your favorite Christmas light display!

(The post Some Holiday Things first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Halloween Spirit

What’s scarier than Advanced Public Finance and Budgeting? Except the fact I don’t recall taking basic finance and budgeting.

As I’m not really a spooky Halloween spirit type of gal, I could take it or leave it. But any chance of mini dressing up and she’s all for it. Somehow October kind of got away from me – now we’re less than a week away from Halloween. All I’ve done is purchase a costume and candy. But that’s pretty much the only requirement, right?

If you ever see me in a haunted house, just know I’ve been kidnapped; please call the authorities to rescue me. Seriously.

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I ask you –

Do you enjoy Halloween?

Thoughts on haunted houses?

Porch light on or off?! Off. We go to a different neighborhood. No naked neighbors for me!

(The post Halloween Spirit first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

My Face When…

this is my face when…

When you’ve been writing for 4 hours and only have 2 pages. I need 6 pgs minimum.

When a doctoral candidate writes (paraphrased) “people who are emotionally weaker have a tendency to be depressed”. Wow. This statement is fantastically false and hurtful. Idiot.

When one of the assigned readings is Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (not really, one of the authors is named Hyde so that’s what I call this book) and it mentions the U.S.S.R. – which I should be careful in even typing because we know how that turned out for me last time. It struck me as weird because it’s a very outdated title. Turns out it was written in 1959. Now it all makes sense.

When I drop off mini at school and can’t find my ID to access work. My sweet coworker (Ms. P, remember) happily informs me it’s at my computer. At work. Which I can’t get to without said ID. In nearly 10 years, I have never left my ID in any place other than intended. Thankfully I had other methods to get to work. But still. Now I have to start over on my record.

When mini wants to discuss the merits and nuances of “running sticks”. Tampons. That’s what we’re talking about here. She’s 6 so I give her an age appropriate explanation. Just as I thought we were done – aka I had sufficiently navigated these uncharted waters – she asks…so where do they go? My answer: inside your body. As a look of horror and disgust cross her little face, she loudly says “YOU EAT THEM?!” And this is where I said we’re going to be late for school, let’s go.

If anyone needs me, I’ll be over questioning every life choice ever made and frantically searching for that damn parenting manual. Again. As I always do.

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I ask you –

Do you have a winning streak on never forgetting your ID or some other form of work access card, etc?

What conversation was the hardest with your child(ren)?

Send help. I don’t know what I’m doing over here.

(The post My Face When… first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)