Yesterday, I had a hankering for something that, to my knowledge, did not exist.  So I took matters into my own hands and invented it.

The result is probably worthy of a Nobel Prize - that is, if there were a Nobel Prize for HOLLA.

See, if there are two things that I love in this world, they are coconut curry soup, and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.  Why not combine them, and create the most delicious thing imaginable:

Coconut Curry Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies.

As my former roommates Julie and Mel can attest to, I do not use recipes when baking cookies.  I just throw a dash of this, a scoop of that, a dollop of thus-and-such into a bowl, mix it up, say a prayer, and bake at 375 for 8 minutes.  So that’s what I did - but this time, I incorporated about a cup of coconut flakes and two tablespoons of curry powder - and some glugs of half-and-half, for good measure, and for posterity’s sake.

(I just really wanted to say “for posterity’s sake.”)

Not to hail my own self or anything, but… okay, fine.  The outcome was nothing short of genius.  I’m only worried that I will never be able to recreate it, what with my lack-of-recipe and all.

On the heels of a Saturday night achievement of Balsamic-Glazed Chicken with Sun-Dried Tomato Rice and Steamed Broccoli (all perfectly timed, I might add, and served to my parents and sister on beautiful dishes in my very cute apartment - video tour to come), I am starting to think that Domestic Goddess is a title I am straight up owning.

Next up: the sewing of my own throw pillows - piping and all.  Stay tuned!

Oh sorry - did I quit blogging for a couple of days?  I apologize.  It’s just that OH MY WORD, LOOK AT MY NEW DESK.

It’s called a PARSONS desk, for crying out loud - can you say meant? to? be? This is what Gina, Leigh, and I will be supporting the Emma community off of.  And I might occasionally drape myself across mine, just out of sheer obsession.

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If “the British” = “Julie” then call me Paul Revere.

It’s true.  JULIE IS COMING!

Yes, Julie of JAM.  When I get home from work tonight, there she’ll be.  And for a few days, all will be right in my world.

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I took my car for an oil change this morning.  The man at the counter asked, “Make and model?”

“Honda Accord,” I replied.

“Year?” he asked.

“1990.”

“Nineteen-ninety…?” he paused, prompting.

“1990.  Period”

“Ninety?  Really?  Well, okaaaaaaay.”

No one - not even mechanics - can believe that the Honda is still alive and kicking.

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I want to be in this so bad.

A childhood friend from my hometown of Montrose, CO, is being featured on Tom Brokaw’s documentary, “American Character Along Highway 50,” which airs tonight at 8/7c on the USA Network.  Watching Jeff’s clip reminds me of just how beautiful western Colorado is - one of those things that I didn’t appreciate until I moved away.  If you can, tune in; I’ve watched some of the teaser videos, and it looks fascinating.

Also, Tom Brokaw… who doesn’t love Tom Brokaw??

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I hate it when people just write recaps of “what I did this weekend” - because BOOOORING - but I’m sorry, this was a great weekend.  Why, pray tell?  Well…

- I spent Friday night at a private party for the PBR - the bull riders, not the beer - and Pat Green winked at me from onstage.
- My dad came over on Saturday morning and helped me hang up my curtain rods and do all sorts of other “dad” things.
- I sold my couch on Craigslist for $15 more than what I paid for it…
- … so I bought these towels (please don’t look at the price, it’s embarrassing).
- I went on a long run (7.3 miles at a mile high - not too shabby).
- I had Thai food with two new friends, Karmen and Scotty - and they’re really great!  Finding good people in a new city is an amazing thing.
- Duane was the East Nasty of the Week.
- One of my best friends from high school who lives in the Denver area had her first baby - welcome, Noelle Elizabeth!
- I went on a 6-mile walk around the city.
- I drove the hour down to my parents’ last night.

I don’t know, it was just a really great weekend.  Productive without being work, fun without being exhausting.  So far, this move has been surprisingly okay.

Awwww, yeah!  How’s about that – Troubled Annie, for the wind!

Listen to some of their new stuff here.  “Be Mine” is so catchy, it’s practically SARS.

I’ve mentioned Zach before - my crazy friend who recently moved from Seattle to Nashville, who lived on the JAM House floor for awhile, who now has his own place in East Nashville but we still like to see him, etc.  Zach is one of a kind - like a snowflake.  Or a fingerprint.  Or a tracking device in a stray dog’s neck.

Last night at church, he caught my eye across the room.  In a sea of people, his face was a little bit higher than the rest, stretching his neck to catch my attention.  It reminded me of Goldbug.

The thought of Zach as Goldbug gave me the giggles.

I couldn’t wait to tell him.  But after church when I got the chance, it turned out that Zach had never heard of Goldbug.  I went on to explain anthropomorphic animals and “Cars and Trucks and Things That Go” and the worm that drove the apple car - and Zach got excited and we high-fived.

I know that I have mentioned that I despise the winky face.  And it’s true – the winky face makes me barf.  End of story.  Forever.

But there is another thing that has been weighing on my mind, and that is the smiley emoticon.

:)

See?  Ugh.

Now, I use the smiley in email communication – but only in it’s purest form: the sideways simpleton.  To me, it brings to mind an ironic, closed-lipped side-smile, à la Jim Halpert.

: )

Even that isn’t an accurate representation, because I had to put a space in between the “eyes” and the “mouth” just to prevent WordPress from hijacking my style and creating a monster.

Because if there is one thing that really irks me, it is when my simple, sideways symbol is – unbeknownst to me – translated into a big-toothed, yellow-faced, sphere-headed, body-less imbecile.  It makes me look like a moron.

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In other news, in response to an unexpected surge of administrative prowess, my friend PZC recently called himself “an organizational Jason Bourne (kicking ass but unsure where it came from and still not sure where I’m headed).”

I thought that was delightful.

I’m not feeling many words these days.  Obviously.

But I will say GOOD LUCK to my friends Joey and Stephanie who are both taking the bar exam starting today.  Rock it like it’s your job until it IS your job.

Julie: right before she kicked some serious booty on the GRE (not the GED, as I frequently refer to it), she sent me flowers at work yesterday.  She is so thoughtful, I can’t even stand it.  Julie Curtis is, perhaps, THE nicest person I know.

Like, when I come home from the gym and I’m completely, disgustingly sweaty, and she still insists on hugging me - which probably makes me way more uncomfortable than it does her… sort of like when someone else offers to do your laundry, and you’re like, “No, it’s okay,” and they insist, “No, it would be my pleasure!” and you say, “No, honestly, please don’t,” but they do it anyway, and you cringe because the nicest person in the world has now seen your literal dirty laundry - and they probably don’t even HAVE dirty laundry, because they’re the nicest person in the world.

That’s how Julie makes me feel.  Minus the uncomfortable, awkward stuff.  So, in a word: cherished.

Duane: even though he didn’t know the songs, he stepped in last-minute and played guitar for the songs at Neighborhood Group last night, leaving me with the stress-free job of just singing.  He saved the day.  AS USUAL.  And let’s just say that his alleged “rusty” guitar playing eclipses my very best.

Handy Graham: when no one was home yesterday, he came to the JAM House, chopped up the gigantic tree limb that has been blocking our driveway for over a month, and stacked the wood out by our dumpsters.  If you are a single girl living with other single girls, you KNOW this is heroic.  As Mel said, “It makes me want to cry!”

Phil: moment 3:41.  You are getting me through the day, Phil.  You are getting me through the day.

Before I begin, let’s all just take a minute to acknowledge the huge thing that happened yesterday.  The thing that made the world feel small – like everyone, no matter what culture, tribe, or tongue, agreed was a big event.  An incident that shook us out of our day-to-day reality, and made us think about what is really important in life.  A happening resulting in headlines, workplace chatter, and blog posts.

ERIN GOT A NEW HAIRCUT!!!!

And she looks fab.  Give her a cat-call, a high-five, and – my own personal favorite display of affection – a quick palm-circle-rub on the back.

In other news, there are a few things that I’ve decided that I “need”: a pair of black heels (how do I not own a pair of black heels?), a soft case for my guitar, and a new [insert the engine part that keeps my car quiet and not shaky] in my Honda.

Instead, you want to know what I’ve been doing with my hard-earned cash?  Donating it to This American Life.  Only twice, but still.  Shouldn’t I be allocating my limited funds some place other than to what could be a FREE podcast?  I feel like I am telling you my secret shame – confessing something I shouldn’t – like how I feign a healthy diet only to shovel cupcake icing into my mouth when no one is watching.

But I can’t help it.  Ira Glass is my geek crush.  He tells me the best stories out of anyone.  And then he asks me to give money (“One dollar – five dollars – whatever you can spare.  What kind of person do you want to be – someone who contributes, or someone who sits back and assumes someone else will take care of it?  Do your part, so we can do ours.”), and I’m like, IRA I WILL DO ANYTHING.

Seriously, though.  What a guy.