Things I Just Don't Understand: Holiday Edition

Music: Linus and Lucy by Vince Guaraldi
            Arabesque Cookie by Duke Ellington
            Sugar Rum Cherry by Duke Ellington

Elf On the Shelf

Okay, who in the name of Frosty the Snowman thought up such a weird, honestly super creepy tradition??

A floppy, dead eyed elf that only comes alive at night, leaving mischief and mayhem in his wake. Oh sure, sometimes he leaves little gifts, but only after he hurls a bag of flour across the kitchen or dyes the milk blood red.

I mean, if it was any other creature in folklore other than an elf, this would be grounds for a horror movie!

(Seriously creepy...)

Oh sure, I can hear all the excuses:

1. But he's so cute!
2. The kids love all his pranks!
3. He only does things that are a little naughty.
4. And the kids love his little presents, and it makes it seem like Christmas lasts the whole month!
5. Oh lighten up, you old Grinch. You'll understand when you get kids.

To which I say a big fat nope to all!

1. That glassy eyed Chucky wannabe is not cute. Evil maybe, but not cute.
2. If your kid tried to pull the pranks that gnome "pulls", they would be grounded for a month straight.
3. A little naughty is still naughty. Do you want to teach your kids that it's okay to be naughty?
4. Parents, the holidays are a bat crap crazy busy time. Do you really need to add buying more gifts and having to remember to move a stuffed toy to a different locale every day to your already lengthy list?
5. Pretty sure having kids is off my plate, so I guess I'll never understand. Oh shucky darn. Grinch out.

So if this creature ever shows up at my house, I'm calling the Winchesters Boys ASAP to come exorcise this little demon. *runs out to buy all the salt in the grocery store*

(Just try telling me that he's not just waiting to suck your soul from your body while you sleep. Just try.)

Santa Baby

Shudder. This song. The lyrics...that quasi-Betty Boop voice that every single artist uses no matter who they are that covers it...the sappy schmaltzy tune... Everything about it makes me want to toss my cookies.

Even if you could get past the nausea inducing baby voice and sickeningly sweet tune, the lyrics are awful. No, for reals they are! Have you actually taken the time to listen to them? They're awful! It's sounds like most spoiled, entitled brat in the world wrote them. Here's a little sample in case you've never paid attention to what they say:

Think of all the fun I've missed

Think of all the fellas I haven't kissed

Next year I could be as good

If you'll check off my Christmas list.

Santa Baby, I want a yacht

And really, that's not a lot

Been an angel all year

So Santa Baby, hurry down the chimney tonight.

Santa honey, there's one little thing I really need

The deed

To a platinum mine

Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

Ugh. Insert biggest eye roll here. So awful.

(Thank you for the perfect eyeroll, my Nine)

So yeah, Santa Baby is definitely my least favorite Christmas song followed closely by Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer and Baby, It's Cold Outside, but because it's Christmas I'll spare you the diatribe on those two until next year.

The Polar Express

If the award for most annoying Christmas song goes to Santa Baby then the prize for most detested Christmas movie goes (insert drumroll here)...The Polar Express!

Blech, this movie. I really don't understand the appeal. I know tons of people love it though. They all get in their matching footie jammies, have hot cocoa and cookies, and watch it as a family. Some towns go all out, designate a train to be "the Polar Express" on Christmas Eve, and give all the local kiddies a ride on it.

You may be saying:

But it's such a sweet, harmless movie! How can you hate it?! It's all about a little boy finding his Christmas spirit!

Well since you asked, here's my list of why I can't handle this movie:

1. That kid and his stupid bell. He makes me scream at my tv screen, "Just tie your stupid, dang bell around your wrist and leave it there! Stop playing with it for the love of eggnog!!"
2. I love me some Tom Hanks, but not in this movie.
3. Steven Tyler as an elf is just strange and more than a little disturbing.
4. The main reason I don't like it is...it's incredibly boring. Nothing really happens in this movie! Sure, sure, it's about a young boy coming to realize that the joy and miracle of Christmas can be find within, but they take what could be a five minute short, and make it into a ninety minute production. The Peanuts Gang told us the same thing, and it was way funnier and sweeter. Plus, they only took 25 minutes to do it.

So no thank you to The Polar Express and file it under Christmas Movies I Don't Care If I Ever See Again along with A Christmas Story and Bad Santa.

Anyone have any holiday traditions that everyone else seems to love, but you just can't understand? As always hit me up in the comments!

Merry Christmas, friends!

The Official Guide To Wintertime in Montana

Music: I'm Caving In by Leopold and His Fiction
           Lone Digger by Caravan Palace
           A Million and One Things To Do - Instrumental Version by Time Machine
         
Well friends, it's happened once again. Winter has taken residence in my corner of Montana, and won't be leaving for the next 4-6 months

But...isn't winter only supposed to last 3 months??

Oh my poor, sweet summer child...in most parts of the country, yes, but here in good old NW MT, we can have snow piles still sitting around until the end of April...sometimes even until May. In fact, I went on a hike in the Jewel Basin just this July, and we were still crossing snow fields. So yeah, winter never really seems to leave us here.

So in honor of our seasonal guest that's kind of like that one relative who never leaves even though they promise to only stay for a week, here's an Official Guide To Winter In Montana.

Here we go:

Dainty, cute shoes like flats, sandals and anything with a heel taller than 3/4 of an inch are traded in for footwear with alluring adjectives like "Snow Resistant", "Good For -40 F", and "Ice Proof Tread".

Your front porch becomes your second refrigerator, and when it drops to below zero, it doubles as an alternate freezer.

You abandon your usual workout for the newest fitness craze, Snow Shoveling 24/7.

You slip on a patch of ice and think to yourself "This is it. This is how I die."

You step outside to start your car for the daily "15 minute prior to departure" warm up, think "Nice! It's not so bad out here today!", and then look at your phone, "Oh. Well, crap."

You lose countless socks to the deep, dark abyss that is your snow boots.

A balmy day is anything above 25 F.

Tights or leggings are completely acceptable to wear with anything and everything.

Scarves become less about fashion and more about function.

The snow pack at our local ski resort gets more attention than the latest celebrity gossip.

Conversations that start with "You think this is a lot of snow?! You should been here for the winter of '96! Now that was a lot snow!" are overheard at the grocery store.

Frozen Booger Syndrome

The backseat of your car carries the enough winter apparel for three people, and you're the only one who's ever in it. But you've always got an extra pair of gloves just in case!

The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man Look is the only fashion trend you need to rock.

You begin to fantasize about swimming in lotion filled pools because your skin is so freaking dry all the dang time.

(It's a Doctor Who reference for the uneducated.)

You go to work in the dark and come home the dark, and slowly begin to feel yourself morphing into some kind of bizarre Mole Person type creature.

You also begin to identify with vampires because the rare sunlight you do see burns your eyes. IT BURNS US, PRECIOUS! (yes, I realize that was Gollum not a vampire, but just go with it.)

Static. So. Much. Static.

Ski bums e'rywhere.

Hairsicles aka going outside with wet hair and having your hair freeze solid.

But the best part about winter?

You get to begin your winter shaving hiatus!!!! Let the happy Snoopy dancing begin!

I know. I know. I'm talking about my love of being free from my follicle maintenance duties in winter again. And yes, I can already hear the reactions.

Ew. Are you really talking about how much you love taking a break from shaving again?! That's so gross. No wonder you're still single!!

To which I reply:

1.  If guys can have No Shave November, than we ladies who have over triple the amount of property to shave can certainly have No Shave Winter. Really, it's only fair.
2. If being All Smooth All The Time is one of the major requirements to being in a relationship than praise the good Lord above that I'm still single.
3. Neener neener, pumpkin eater! I really don't care if you think I'm gross. At least my legs stay warmer than yours!

So there.

But for all my complaining about winter, it's all worth it for views like this...

Feel free to add any additions to the winter guide in the comments!

Don't. Do. It.

Okay, this is a call out post to all my fellow Christians, and specifically those Christians whose candidate won the Presidential election this year.

I'm only addressing you guys on this one.

Guys. It's only the first day after the election, and I'm already sick to my stomach with some of the things I've seen posted on social media.

Look, I get it. The guy you voted for won, and you want to celebrate. I understand that, and it's fine.

But.

The gloating, the sneering, the hatred, the bigotry and the sheer ugliness I've seen from fellow believers, and from people I personally know is disgusting. It makes me want to delete every social media platform I'm on.

And before I go any further, and someone accuses me of being a Clinton supporter, I did not vote for Hillary Clinton. I also did not vote for Donald Trump. Yes, I'm one of those despised third party voters, and let me to tell you, the vitriol being spewed at voters like me rivals the hate that the Liberal Left and the Conservative Right are currently throwing at each other. It has been quite the learning experience. Hooooo buddy, let me tell you what.

All right, now that we have that cleared that up

All I want to do is smack these people upside the head, and scream "Really?! REALLY?! This is how you behave? You say you're a believer, and this is you showing the love of Christ to others. Grow. UP."

You mock the people who say about Trump "He's not my president!", but you have the same exact phrase about President Obama plastered on your truck's bumper.

You say, "We need to fix this divide in our country!" with one breath, and then post gloating hatred on your Facebook wall with the other.

I can already hear the whining "But the liberals do it all the time about us."

You're right. They do, and it's not right. But just because they it do doesn't give you the right to do it.

"But I have freedom of speech! I have that right! I can say whatever I want! It's a free country!"

Again you're right. We are blessed enough to live in a country where we can voice our opinions, but we who claim to be Christians answer to a much Higher Authority, and He calls us to:

• Turn the other cheek even when others are hurting us. (Luke 6:29)
• Be kind others because He was kind to us, and if we are not, He will cut us off. (Romans 11:22)
• Speak kindly to those who talk bad about us. (1 Corinthians 4:13)
• Live quiet, peaceful lives with our neighbors. (1 Timothy 2:2)
• Love each other. (Matthew 19:19)
• Have love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. (Galatians 5:22)
• Forgive tirelessly. (Luke 17:4)

Friends, I know it's hard, but we must do it. We commanded by Christ to do it. We cry for unity, but if it doesn't start with us, the children of God, who will it start with?

Do you really want to be the "Ugly Christian" that the world too often sees, and hates?

Is posting a meme about the warrior Trump cutting the head off of Medusa Clinton really worth ruining your testimony to others?

We are to be light and hope to a dying world, and yet some of us are mocking the people who are honestly scared for their lives right now.

I think one of my favorite rappers said best it on his Twitter today:

"I would NEVER be mad at how someone votes. Whoever our country elects is MY president. I will honor them. But don't gloat. Empathy...please." - Heath McNease

Don't do it, guys. Don't give into it. Please. I'm begging you. I'm pleading with you to be the bigger person, and don't give into all this hatred, bigotry, and gloating.

If you do, you're no better than the Prius driving liberal who claims that all Christians are a bunch ignorant hypocrites.

DON'T. DO. IT.

Girly Woes: Part Tres

Music:  MMMbop by Scott Bradlee & Postmodern Jukebox
            Salt and Shadows by Thrice
            Close Your Eyes by RHODES


Part Tres of my ongoing Girly Woes series coming at ya!

Packing

Oh sweet merciful heavens, packing for a trip. Even though you tell yourself, lecture yourself, plead with yourself, "Don't worry if you forget something. There will be a Target or Walmart somewhere in the vicinity that you can run to if you forget your toothbrush or contact lens solution. You're only going away for three days. You don't need to pack three extra tubes of toothpaste, and twelve pairs of underwear."

Yet, you still do it. You pack enough outfits to dress three other women.

Why?

You're a smart, practical woman. You know you don't need to bring all this extra crap with you, but that needling, wheedling ear worm of a question ricochets through your head all through the packing process, "What if...remember that one time?"

Aw, that one time...

If you're like me, you had an incident happen to you over 10 years ago that scarred you for life, and haunts you still. Maybe an incident such a this...

You're out of town on a youth mission trip, and you packed just enough undergarments to last the whole trip. No more. No less...

Cue to an evening after serving all day and everyone is hanging out and relaxing. Suddenly your little brother decides that it's a good idea to zip himself into a sleeping bag and try sliding down an entire flight of stairs, and then top off that performance with him reenacting Heimlich the Caterpillar's emerging from his chrysallis scene from A Bug's Life. Then pan to you laughing so hard you wet yourself.

Of course, you excuse yourself to change, but after digging frantically through your clothes, you realize that you don't have a single spare set of underwear. Scene change to later that evening as you're standing in the bathroom late at night, washing a pair of drawers in the sink with that horrible orange Dial antibacterial hand soap, and swearing to yourself, "Never again. Never again will I be without three extra pairs of panties packed with me at all times."

That one incident stalks your memories and the over packing cycle continues forever and always.

Showering quickly

Now I know all women don't struggle with this one (I'm looking a certain close friend and mother here), but I do. Oh sweet lawdy, do I struggle with this one.

How? Just how?

I mean in the time it take me to get the shampoo and conditioner out of my hair, some people are already done with all their business in the shower, drying off and styling their hair.

Whaaaaat?

Then there's me still wiping the suds from my eyes, and I have yet to scrub the rest of my body, wash my face, and shave (But only if it's summer. Ya'll know my lack of shaving habits in the winter.)

Maybe it's because I have the deadly combo of thick hair and an even thicker body, but still...

Hoooooooow???

Please show me your ways, oh Jedi shower masters.


Peeing outside

Okay fellas, real talk here. The ability to pee outside as easily and freely as you do is one of the few things that make me wish I was a guy. That and the fact that all your toiletries are way cheaper than mine, but that's a whole other post for a different day.

(Also that you can go into a full on 'Roid Rage mode without having someone ask you if you're "PMS-ing".)

Do you realize how good you have it? Do you?!

You just have to find a halfway private tree, unzip and mark your territory.

Sometimes, you don't even look for a tree, you just pull your truck onto the shoulder of the highway, jump out the door, and away you go. Which is actually pretty gross, I mean seriously, dudes, no one wants to see you peeing off the side of the road. If I can hold it, you can hold it.

If I want to pee outdoors, I have to scout out the perfect location:

• It has to be a very private tree stand with no chance of anyone seeing me. 
• It also has to have waist high underbrush encircling said trees so if someone did chance to come upon me, they can only see me from the chest up. 
• It has to be on a bit of an incline so I don't run the risk of pee puddling up around my feet.
• A fallen tree to use as support is extremely desirable as well.

Then comes the process of actually peeing, but hold on, there's prep even for that:

• Make sure no one is around for at least a one mile radius.
• Personally, in order to make sure you don't pee on your pants, I like to at least partially undress. That means I have to pull one leg completely out of my pants.
• Now you have to assume the semi-squat position. This is a potentially risky position for anyone who isn't built like a lodgepole pine because it's very easy to lose your balance trying to do it, so this is where the fallen tree is a godsend. (A lodgepole is a fairly skinny pine tree for all you non-Westerners/city dwellers. Reference photo below) 
• 
• After the semi crouch position is assumed, you can actually start doing the deed. This may sound like the easiest part of the whole ordeal, but in reality, if you're like me, you start in on an intense prayer session with the good Lord that He spare you from peeing down your leg, soaking your underwear, and/or drenching your shoes.
• There. You finally did it. You accomplished the impossible. You, a woman, peed outdoors. You did it with a modicum of dignity and modesty. You even managed to not piddle on yourself. Hooray! Now you can finally move on. 
• But wait! You still have to pull up your drawers. Now begins the process of hopping around like some deranged kangaroo, and praying all the while that you don't catch your shoe on your pants as you pull them up, trip and go you-know-what over teakettle. Because if that happens, you have on your hands a problem I like to call "Full Moon Over Montana". 

Sigh. The things we go through just to spend some time in the great outdoors. The struggle is real, my friends.

Thank you for reading, lovelies, and as always hit me up in the comments of you have any "girly woes" you want me to cover!

P.S. No need to send me links to such devices as the "She Wee". My eyes have already been subjected to pictures of this creation in action from an unwise Google search...shudder...

Be Proud of Your Age

Music: Shiver and Crawl by Swimming With Bears
            Pray by Bishop Briggs
            Fire by Barns Courtney

A friend and I were talking a while back about people who can't own up to the fact that they're getting older and are no longer a "fine young thang". It freaks them out, and they respond by dressing too young, acting too young, and latching onto friends that are a good 10-15 years younger than them.

Sidebar: I am not saying that you can't or shouldn't be friends with people who are younger than you. I believe that having a diverse age friend group is essential. I have friends who are both 15 years younger and 25+ years older than I am. I cherish them all and what they bring into my life! We learn from people who are in different stages of their lives, but it's when we only have friends that are much younger than us that is a bit questionable to me.

 So what is it about aging that freaks us out so much? We turn that big number 30, 40, or 50 and suddenly all we want to do is curl up in the fetal position and start crying for Mommy.

Maybe for some it's because we're faced with our own mortality for the first time.

Maybe it's the realization that it's time to grow up.

Maybe we don't feel relevant any more because we're officially beyond the age group that the media deems as beautiful.

Maybe we feel like life is passing us by, and we don't know how to catch up with it.

Maybe we feel like our spouse won't find us attractive anymore at this age.

I know this mindset isn't exclusive to women, but since I am of the female sex, I can only speak from my own personal viewpoint.

Sidebar: I'm sorry, but I have zero respect for those guys that ditch their current wife for a 15-20 year younger model because their first wife reminds them that they aren't some college dude bro anymore. Honestly, they pretty much disgust me, and shouldn't be surprised when that pretty young thing does the same thing to them when that back hair starts sprouting and that middle age spread can't be hid anymore.

Yes, I know that there are women who have done the same thing, and no they aren't exempt from this rant.

ANYWHO. Vicious sidebar over. Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I hear so many people say "My high school years were the best years of my life!!", and I'm all:

I mean...REALLY?? High school was the best years of your life? What High School Musical Alternate Universe did you live in? 

Dude. High school was not a good time for Manda. I was a wreck. Need an example? Here ya go.

(Teen Manda in all her awkward home schooled glory. Lovin' that precise middle part by the way.)

Zits, hormones screaming off the walls, the angst, the feeling of never fitting in, the horrendous fashion sense, the complete lack of ability to talk to the opposite sex without coming off as either stuck up or a complete blathering idiot (teen me and now me still have that sad trait in common...sigh...), bemoaning my singleness, and list goes on.

Maybe the high school years were your best because you were popular, an accomplished athlete, or a fantastic scholar. Now that time is over, those accolades don't really mean much, and you feel out of step and irrelevant.

If the high school years were truly your best years, then honey, you need to grow up.

Then you have the ones who say "Oh my garsh, my 20's were the absolute best!!"

And again, there's me going "Really?? Your 20's were the best?"

My 20's, especially the early ones, were only slightly better than my teens. Need more proof? Here's early 20's me.

(I seriously thought my Big Bird Yellow windbreaker was the height of fashion, and the Ichthys choker pendant was the ultimate accessory...of course it was 2001 so some concessions must be made.)

Still no fashion sense, of course it didn't help that plus sized clothing still looked like stuff a grandmother would wear, still single as heck, not so angsty (thank heavens), but still super awkward.

In my later 20's I started to feel more comfortable in my own skin, but it wasn't until my 30th birthday that I finally felt freed from my cage.

(Same, Dobby. Same.)

Which is weird because your 30th birthday is something that is dreaded by most people. How many times have you heard some call their 30th birthday their "second 29th birthday" because somehow turning 30 makes you "over the hill".

For me it was the opposite. It felt like I finally had come into my own. It felt like coming home. It felt like I was finally becoming who God created to me. 

Maybe it was because I finally accepted that I was and always had been a nerd (I wrote a post all about that experience here.)

Maybe it's because I've always been a bit of an old soul, and finally felt my age.

Maybe it's because I stopped caring the tiniest bit about what others thought about me.

Maybe it's because I finally learned, as cliche as it sounds, that age is truly a number.

Is my life picture perfect? No.

Do I have all the accomplishments that the world expects me to have at this age, i.e. a high paying job, a spouse, a mortage, and 2-3 kids? No.

Am I still awkward? Oh my giddy aunt, YES, but now I can laugh at myself over it.

Am I completely satisfied with where I am and what I'm doing with my life? Absolutely not. I still have a lot of growth to do, and I always will. I just have more peace than I ever have about where God has me at this point of my life.

Most importantly, is my fashion sense better? I would like to think so, but those who don't understand my penchant for nerdy tees may say different.

I kid. I kid, but seriously, guys, my 30's have been awesome so far, and I can actually say that I really do think that my 40's, 50's, 60's and so on will be too. 

How can I think this way? 

I feel that it's because God has shown me that I need to be present in and love the heck out of the age that I currently am. It's a lesson that I dearly wish I had learned when I was younger, but maybe that's why he saved that lesson for now. So that instead of hating the thought of growing older, I'm kind of looking forward to it.

So I'm calling us all to shift our perspectives, and love the age we are right now. Enjoy your years of experience, and don't fall prey to dreading the years to come.

Guys, if we keep wishing for lost years back, we'll wind up wishing away the years God still has for us.

Be proud of your age, lovelies.

(Learning that laugh lines are a gift and not a curse. They're proof that I can laugh at myself, and not take life too seriously.)

P.S. As I was just starting to think about writing this post months ago (sometimes these posts take me ages to write), a sweet friend gave me a bag of Dove Salted Caramel Chocolates aka Angel Food. One of the first chocolates I opened contained this quote, and I was all  "I now have definitive proof that chocolate truly is manna from heaven because the Lord is speaking to me through it." 

(Dove, I couldn't have said it better myself.)

Girly Woes Part Deux

Bulletproof by Mutemath
Save My Soul by Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
Midnight On The Interstate (Live) by Trample By Turtles



Since I had so much fun writing my Girly Woes post back in April, I'm back for another round! Maybe this will become a regular series...or maybe not...I don't exactly have the best tract record of posting new blog posts lately.

Anywho's its...

Bras:

Boys, look away. Actually you know what? Don't. You should know what kind of suffering we go through with these instruments of torture.

I hate bra shopping. Hate, despise, loathe, and abhor it. I don't care what size you are finding a decent, comfortable, reasonably price bra is going to be about as successful as trying to find the lost city of El Dorado. For example, I'm a plus size girl, but I have a not so plus sized bust. So while I need a little bit bigger band, my actual cup size isn't that big. Needle in a hay stack much?

And if I do happen to find one that fits okay, several things always conspire against me:

1. The straps refuse to stay up, AND ALWAYS FALL DOWN AT THE WORST POSSIBLE TIME. Like the middle of a church service for example. I'm so sure that the thing my pastor wants to see while looking across the sanctuary is me yanking my flipping bra straps back into place.
2. There's no padding, which results in me looking like it's a frigid day in January but it's still August (if you catch my drift.). Headlights, ahoy.
3. So much padding that the bra firmly lodges the girls under my chin, thereby spilling any secret Victoria ever had.
4. Cups that don't stay in place which results in a dreaded phenomena called the "Under Boob". My cups then don't so much runneth over, but spilleth out the bottom.
5. Underwires. They're a necessary evil because my ladies need the support, but much like straps, these little instruments of evil like to give up the ghost at the most inopportune times. Like right after lunch when I have no chance of running home to change. So I'm stuck for the rest of my workday with a dagger digging into my poor, defenseless girl.
6. The bra fits perfectly, there's just the right amount of padding, no under boob, straps are actually stay put, but...BUT it's hot pink, polka dotted and/or covered in what looks like a solid inch of lace thereby insuring that there's no chance I can ever wear it under anything but the bulkiest of sweaters.
7. The bra has all the perfect components, is a nice neutral color, with minimal to no lace, but when I take a look at the price tag I'm all "Hell's bells, no!" because it's $69.99 (and don't give me that "you get what you pay for" crap because nothing with so little fabric should cost me that much. I refuse to pay that much for a decent pair of running shoes.)

So guys (if I haven't scared you off already), is it any wonder that as soon we get home for the evening, we're whipping off our double barrel sling shots as fast as we can?

Dearest Decent Brassieres, 

If you don't stop hiding out like a long lost city gold, I may have to pull out my inner 70's feminist and burn the lot of you.

P.S. I can only speak from my experience with my own small to medium girls. I know you ladies who are more generously endowed have a whole different set of woes. You have all my sympathy and love.


Cat's Eye Eyeliner:

I want cat's eye liner on my eyelids so bad, but I utterly suck at it. No seriously, I do.

I've tried ever so many techniques, liquid and stick liners, and Youtube videos, but it never helps. I always end up with the same results. I wind up looking like Hatchet Face from Cry Baby.

 (Preach, girl!)

Dear Cat's Eye, 

Why must you hate me so much when all I want to do is love you?

British Accents:

I love British accents. Like as much as I hate bra shopping on the opposite end of the spectrum lies my love of British accents. Be it Scotch, English, Irish, or Welsh, I don't care. I adore them all.

As my roommie and I have discussed in detail, if you're a guy and you have a British accent, you're automatically 65% more attractive then any other dude on the planet (you're 50% more attractive if you have a Kiwi or Australian accent, FYI). You could be giving me the stock market report or a mathematical dissertation, and I would sit there with my hands clasped under my chin making doe eyes at you. Now I know you must be saying "Manda? Really? C'mon."

Yes, really, and to support my theory, here's my favorite Brit talking to us about Einstein's Theory of Relativity, a little geometry, and a dash of Pi. Have a listen, and see if you don't just swoon a bit.

See? See?! SEEEEEEEE????!!! I may have enjoyed math in school more if I had it explained to me like that...or I would have been too distracted by that face, and still have done poorly...

Need some more proof of British attractiveness?? *throws confetti and plies you with pics of attractive Brits*

(Ben, you're officially off the market so I'll just admire

you from afar...but in a totally non-creepy way.)

(Funny and Irish? Um, yes please!)

(Colin, you'll always be my Mr. Darcy...)

(Tom Burke, everyone. Have you seen him as Athos on The Musketeers?!

 Oh. My. Giddy. Aunt.)

(Out of possible 10 out of 10, I give David an 11...see what I did there? 

Huh? Huh? Oh, the Whovian puns!)

(Idris...just...whoa...and have you heard his rumbling raspy voice? 

No. Words.)

(Don't worry Richard, I'll be your Margaret Hale any day...)

(Robert Carlyle, you are one seriously attractive Scottish Silver Fox, but you are very happily married so I would never try to break that up.)

(I feel a wee bit cougarish even putting John on here since I'm a good

11+ years older than him, but just look at him!)

(My sweet Tom...just  waiting for you to decide that Taylor 

is the wrong Yank for you...)

Okay, now that I've proven myself, you may be saying "So what'S the girly woe here? All I'm seeing is a crazy woman fangirling over some dudes." 

Well dear reader, I'm so glad you asked. The woe here is that I live on the frick frackin' wrong side of the Pond, and have zero access to such lovely manliness!!!!

Dear British men, 

Northwest Montana is lovely this time of year. How about spending your holidays here and letting me win your hearts with baked goods?

And this conclude my second round of Girly Woes. If any of you ladies have some suggestions that I should cover in my possible next edition of Girly Woes, hit me up in the comments! I would love to hear from you!

 (What??? How did that get there? Whoopsy, my finger must of slipped.)

Overcome Evil with Good

I know most of my posts don't really deal with current events, but after this weekend's horrific tragedy in Orlando, I can't help but write something.

My heart is breaking for those 50 men and women who lost their lives.

My heart is bruised for those 53 people who were injured and are now having to deal with aftershocks of being attacked.

My heart is crushed for those families who will never see their loved ones again.

My heart is weeping for the family who's son took his own life.

My heart is aching for that man who was so blinded by hate and misguided beliefs that he decided to snuff out both the lives of 50 people and his own.

I know some of you are saying things right now like "How can you hurt for a wicked man like that? We shouldn't be hurting for him! We should be hunting down and destroying everyone like him!"

We start pointing fingers, "It's ISIS's fault. It's the anti-gun control groups fault! It's the gun lovers fault! It's all the Muslim immigrants fault!"

And on and on it goes. As soon as there's a tragedy like this we jump on our political band wagons and start screaming at each that it's the Political Right's/Left's fault this happened.

But we ignore the hurting. We ignore the people who are literally bleeding out in front of us.

How dare we.

There's a time and place to discuss and fix our problems, but not now.

Now is the time to tend to the wounded, to weep with the hurting, and love the unlovable.

You wouldn't scream at a wounded soldier "You know if you had just avoided that sniper, you wouldn't have a blown out shoulder right now! You should have ducked! This is why you need to take proper evasive measures!!"

You would do whatever you could to get stop their bleeding, and get them ready for surgery. You would see to their immediate needs first and foremost.

Don't think for a second that I don't believe that we shouldn't seek justice for people who were killed or injured. We absolutely need to pursue justice for them, but it shouldn't come at the price of persecuting a particular people group.

Over generalization of certain population group is an extremely slippery slope, and can quickly turn into something as evil as the atrocity that happened in Orlando.

I was reading a friend's Facebook post she had shared regarding something along these lines, and someone couldn't help commenting "Doesn't God tell us to hate evil? You can't tell me I have to love the people who are trying to destroy Western Civilization! I won't do it!"

Well, angry Facebook troll whom I'm assuming identifies as a Christian, you're only partly right. God does tell us to hate evil, but I think you're forgetting the rest of that verse.

"Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil. Cling to what is good." Romans 12:9 (NIV)

Here's the same verse in the New Living Version which I like even better:
"Be sure your love is true love. Hate what is sinful. Hold on to whatever is good." - Romans 12:9 
(NLV)

We can hate the evil deed that that man carried out in Orlando, but we cannot hate the man himself, because that would be evil too.

Why?

Because Christ says in Matthew 5:21 that to hate someone is to commit murder. Guess what? Murder is a sin. So that makes hating another person a sin too. Sin is evil, and we are to hate it. Understand where I'm going?

The second part of that verse says to hold on what is good, and what is good?

Well friends, not only is it one of the Fruits of the Spirits, but something that all Christ followers should be exhibiting (see Galations 6:10) along with love.

Are we doing that? Am I doing that? Am I doing what is good? Am I loving all people?

God doesn't let us pick and choose who we get to love, who we can show goodness to. We don't get to love just the people who we like. We don't get to just love those people who have our same beliefs. We don't get to love those who think like us. We don't get to help just the people we think are worth it.

In fact, Christ goes even farther and tell us to:

"But I tell you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you." Matthew 5:44

Love your enemies...

Whoa.

We have to remember that the majority of Muslims are not our enemy, and hate ISIS and terror cells like them just as much as we do. After all ISIS and the like are going after them much more than they are us.

Do I think that we need to do something about ISIS? Absolutely.

But remember, even though we consider ISIS our enemy, we still have to love the people who are part of it.

 We can't forget that the people in these terror cells are still people, and Christ loves them just as much as He does you or I.

Don't forget that these people are carrying out their terror because they are being deceived by the Master and Father of all lies.

And what does God want to do to deceived people? He wants set them free. After all He set you and I free, and in His eyes our sins are no different than theirs.

How can we do anything, but want the same?

Remember.

Now is the time to come alongside the hurting and doing what we can to help them. Offer a hug, and a shoulder to cry on. Pray with them. Love them unconditionally, no matter their beliefs or ethnicity or religion, because that's Christ does.

Remember.

Now is the time to hate the evil that was committed, but to love the lost soul that committed it.

Remember.

Now is the time to cling to what is good.

Mocha Brownies

Music: River by Bishop Briggs
           No Excuses by Needtobreathe
           Implicit Demand For Proof by Twenty One Pilots
           

Coffee and Chocolate.

Was there ever a more perfect flavor combination?

All right, all right, I can hear you saying "But Amanda! What about cheese and bacon or white chocolate and peppermint or chips and salsa or blah blah blah??"

Okay, so maybe not THE perfect combination, but certainly one of the top 10.

It's certainly in my top 5 flavor combinations. So of course I had to create a brownie with a heavy dose of coffee.

You take a coffee infused brownie base, add a rich, decadent coffee cream cheese filling, top that with a thick layer of pure chocolate, and finish it all off with a delicate swirl of white chocolate.

Sounds good?

Because they are. 

These little mocha gems are totally my jam.

And since my mama raised my to share, I couldn't keep these all to myself. So I'm sharing them with you guys!

(And if you don't like coffee? Well, first off, what in the heck is wrong with you?! And second, these are probably not the brownies for you... Sorry, because these bad boys are coffee-rific.)

Now, let's get down to business (To defeat the Huns! No, no, it's mocha time, not Mulan time. Get it straight.)

Recipe ahoy!

Mocha Brownies

Brownie Base:
1 2/3 c. granulated sugar
3/4 c. butter, melted
3 T. cold espresso or very strong, cold coffee
1 tsp. vanilla
2 eggs
1 1/3 c. all purpose flour
3/4 c. cocoa powder
1T. finely ground coffee
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt

Filling:
1 8oz pkg. cream cheese, softened
1/4 c. butter, softened
2 c. powdered sugar, sifted
2 T. cold espresso or very strong, cold coffee
2 T. whipping cream
1 tsp. finely ground coffee

Topping:
1/2 c. bittersweet chocolate chips
1/2 c. milk chocolate chips
1 T. shortening

Garnish:
1/4 c. white chocolate chips
1 tsp, shortening


For Brownies:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Mix together sugar, butter, coffee, and vanilla. Whisk in eggs until well combined. Sift together flour, cocoa powder, ground coffee, baking powder, and salt. Stir into egg mixture. Spread batter into a lightly greased 13 x 9 pan. Bake 18-23 minutes or until toothpick inserted into center comes out clean. Just be sure not to over bake because no one likes an over cooked brownie.
Cool brownies completely.

For Filling:
Beat together cream cheese and butter until fluffy. Turn mixer to low and gradually mix in powdered sugar until combined. Add in whipping cream, coffee, and ground coffee. Turn mixer to medium, and beat mixture for 1-2 minutes until light and fluffy. Spread filling evenly onto brownies.

For Topping:
In a microwave safe bowl, mix together chocolate chips and shortening. Melt chocolate mixture on low in microwave at 30 second intervals making sure to stir mixture thoroughly after each interval. Heat chocolate until completely melted. Spread onto filling. Immediately start garnish.

For Garnish:
Follow steps for topping and melt the white chocolate chips and shorting. Pour melted white chocolate into pipping bag equipped with a small round tip. Pipe evenly spaced rows onto the still warm topping. Working quickly, take a toothpick and run it through the topping and the garnish in the opposite direction as you piped the garnish. Do this in evenly spaced intervals.

Let chocolate topping and garnish cool and harden completely before cutting into 24 squares.

There you have it! A pan full of coffee and chocolatey goodness. These go best with a tall glass of milk, or to gild the lily even farther, enjoy them with a cup of your favorite coffee. Because what could go better with chocolate and coffee, but more coffee?

Girly Woes: Part One

Music: Psychosocial by Brooke Fraser
            Wild Horses by Bishop
            Friday I'm In Love by Janet Devlin




Eyebrows

It's a daily battle to keep the two woolly caterpillars on my forehead from mating, and when they're not trying to mate, it's seems like they each take turns deciding that it's time to grow arms and try to their darndest to shake hands with my hairline.

Dear Eyebrows, no need to be Hands Across America. The 80's are over and done with. Move on.

Jeans

For the love of Gallifrey, is there no more elusive garment than finding the right pair of jeans? (Well, there is the struggle of finding a decent bra, but I won't go into that here.) It's nearly impossible! In fact, I think I may have a better chance of finding a Yeti than a pair of jeans I love.

Then throw in the fact that I'm plus size, and oh lawdy, someone call Josh Gates because I have a mystery to solve!

I'm either stuck with something that looks like someone's Grandmother decided to go on a rampage with her Bedazzler on the back pockets, constantly wants to ride on my hips, and makes me live in constant fear that I'm going to flash crack if I even look at the ground much less bend over to pick something up off said ground.

Or I get the "Mom Jeans" option.

I'm sorry, but I really don't think my waistband belongs around my ribs, and elastic and pleats don't say "comfort". They say "I'm ready for my retirement home in Arizona! Watch out gentlemen, Mama's got her streeeeetchy pants on, and is ready to party! Now, someone get me a Mai Tai, STAT!"

Dear Cute, Flattering, Non Bedazzled Jeans, no need to hide out like the Loch Ness monster. C'mon out and play.


Big feet

You know as a kid you had that one sledding hill that seemed like you were flying down Mount Everest as you went sliding down it? And then you revisited it as an adult, and you were all "Where's the hill?! This is just a bump in the ground! What happened?!"

Well, that's kind of what having big feet is like only in reverse. What you think are small and delicate are really roughly the size of two canoes.

Example:

You're in the shoe department, innocently browsing through the shoes when you find the perfect pair of ankle boots that you just have to try.

Only when you go to find your size they don't have any out available to try, because heaven forbid we have anything over an 8 1/2 on display.

You then have suck it up and ask the preteen working/texting her boyfriend if they could see if they have a size 9 1/2 or 10 in stock.

After a barely disguised eyeroll and snort of derision, they get up and spend what feels an eternity in the stock room. Then the much put upon employee finally emerges and plops the pair of shoes on the floor next to you, and saunters off to resume texting...er working.

You open the box, only to draw back in horror! These are not the same shoes! I mean they kind of look like the same shoes, but these...these look like something Quasimodo would wear!

Oh sweet Thor, what happened?! Where are my precious little ankle boots?! ?!

Then in denial you try on the size 8's thinking maybe just maybe this particular style runs big?!

Only to look like an idiot because of course they won't fit. Who am I trying to kid? I don't have small dainty feet. I have the feet of a female Sasquatch, and can never have anything pretty for my poor, monstrous feet...sob.

Dear Big Feet, it's not you. It's me. I'm trying my best to learn to love you, but it's really, really hard because I really, really love cute shoes.

I know these are only a few of the woes of being a girl, so hit me up ladies! What are some of your girly woes?

Kitchen Spells

Butter, sugar, flour...

Simple items, yes, but oh, the magic that can be created with them.

How?

Because they're foundation ingredients to thousands of edible spells.

With them baked goods can be created that pull you back to your childhood, provide comfort after a hard day at work, lift spirits, or bring a smile to a troubled face...

Stawberry Lemon bars with just the right amount of tartness to perk up that 4:00 work coma.

Raspberry scones to cuddle with your morning cup of coffee.

Molasses cookies laced with spices and the essence of fall.

Chocolate Chip Cookies that feel like a hug from your mom.

Oatmeal Cherry Cookies that with one bite can feel like coming home from a long day.

Huckleberry Glace Pie that sings out Montana summers in the middle of January.

Strawberry Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting that whisper spring.

Pumpkin Bread, a cup of coffee and conversations with a dear friend are the only things needed to make up a perfect afternoon.

Cinnamon Rolls for lazy Saturday mornings.

And chocolate, oh sweet heavenly chocolate...

Mender of broken hearts and cure all to a horrible day.

Brownies with lightly crisped tops and fudgey centers.

Chocolate Zucchini Cupcakes with Chocolate Buttercream that may have you on the verge of confessing your sins.

Double Chocolate Sugar Cookies that might just make you turn your back on regular Vanilla Sugar Cookies forever.

Triple Chip Chocolate Muffins that you can call breakfast, but really you're just eating a cupcake for breakfast, and that's just fine.

People ask me why I bake, and this is why.

All these recipes and so many more help me personally, to share edible expressions of love.

Baking is my love language.

Baking is the magic I need to show my love.

Baking is magic.

Baking is love.

The Perks of Being Single (and a Bonus Rant To Boot)

Music: Scared by Judah & the Lion
           Go Quietly by Cold War Kids
           Feeling Good (Bassnectar Remix) by Nina Simone


I know I complain about being single, but honestly most of the time, singleness is... pretty flippin' awesome!

But sometimes, that awesomeness is swallowed up by society screaming at you that you're a waste as a human being because you haven't found your special unicorn yet.

In that light, I thought I would list some of the things that make singledom fantastic, but first, could all you "coupled up" people out there please do three teeny tiny favors for us singles?

Side note: Two of these apply specifically to people who attend church frequently.

First. Please for the love of Gallifrey, do not stick anyone over the age of 23 in the "college group" just because that happens to be only other small group that has singles.

What?!

Dude, I have 12-15 years on these kids! Most of them still have the scent of their high school locker wafting off their jackets. I mean, in some cases I'm almost the same age as their mothers. (Holy crap, I almost gave myself a heart attack there.) Not they're not amazing people, we're just not in the same space in our lives.

Church, there's no need to separate the married and unmarried. We can talk to and relate with couple type people just fine. It's not like we're Zocci from the planet Sto or anything (Hey yo! Whovian references being thrown down).

Second. Do not assume that because I'm an unmarried female of a certain age that somehow I'm dying for a maternal fix, and "You should sign up for nursery, and children's church, and VBS and Kid's Club and..."

Look. Kids are amazing. I love chatting with them, seeing how creative they are and listening to their funny stories. I'm so excited to be an auntie whenever that day comes.

But...

I AM NOT CALLED TO CHILDREN'S MINISTRY.

I have no need for a kid fix. My ovaries are not bursting at the sight of every baby. My biological clock may be ticking, but I'm kind of waving at it as it's passing me by (sorry, Mom.)

Third. Do not assume that because I'm single that I'm somehow incomplete. 

Do I want to be married? Yes. Do I feel unfufilled because I'm not? No. Do I feel like I'm less of a person because I'm single? NO. So don't treat me that way.

Also please don't give me condescending brush offs like: "You can't understand how hard life can be until you're married. It's work. Back breaking, soul aching work." 

Wow. You're really endorsing married life there, aren't ya, Hoss?

And yeah, you're so right. My life is all cupcakes and glitter and Pegasus's throwing up four leaf clovers. It's easy like a summer day, yo! I can't possibly understand life's hardships right now!!

Snort. Grumble. Hmmph. 

Whoa, enough of the rant, woman. I thought you were supposed to be telling us why being single is great, not screaming at us.

Okay, you're right, imaginary reader. I stop yelling...for now.

Okay, here we go.

1. I can go 4-5 months without shaving (I'd like to thank Montana Winters/leggings/tights), and there's no one to complain about my lack of follicle maintenance or the fact that my gams look like they belong on a lady sasquatch.

2. Cereal for dinner.

3. Sole ownership of the remote. I can watch four back to back episodes of Buffy, Supernatural, or The Great British Baking Show, and no one whines "Can't we watch something else? The Game is on!" (Lord, can you and I just come to an agreement that the gentleman you have for me won't be rabid sports fan? Please and thank you.)

4. I can hang out with friends at a moments notice.

5. Chips and salsa for dinner.

6. The entire bed to myself. I can lie diagonally, spread eagle, upside down, and sideways if I wanna. IT'S GLORIOUS.

7. The opportunity to focus solely on my relationships with my family and friends.

8. No one wakes me up in the middle of the night asking for a drink of water or a snack or to take them to the bathroom.

9. Laundry day takes me less than two hours, and it's only once a week.

10. No Anna. No Elsa. No Frozen soundtrack on repeat 500 times a day.

11. No Man Colds. Ladies, you know what I mean. 

12. Going to the bathroom in complete solitude.

13. Oatmeal, an apple, and a chunk of cheese for dinner.

14. Coordinating holiday events doesn't yet require the same skill set as a hostage negotiator.

15. Lastly and most importantly being single allows me to be have the freedom to drop everything at a single moment's notice to help whoever and wherever God needs me.

Don't get me wrong. I long for the day when (or if) God brings that certain special guy into my life, but that day isn't today. So why shouldn't I be loving the heck out of the time where He has me right now?