be bold...

Once upon a time in January I filled out this post template for the heck of it. It's now 6 months later. I decided to fill it out again and see if any of my "sometimes" have changed.


SOMETIMES
...I get weirdly excited about hearing a song on the radio. Like Kelly Clarkson's "Dark Side" or Katy Perry's "Wide Awake" or Rihanna's "Where Have You Been" or Journey's "Faithfully" (among others). Those are the moments when I just have to turn up the volume and sing along. Or, you know. Dance in my car.

...I feel overwhelmed with gratitude when a friend spends an afternoon with me or lets me talk to them on the phone.

...I can't stop thinking about school starting. And...I'll admit it...that one person.

...I just want to be happy all day, every day.

...I am kind of a bad person and judge myself and others too harshly.

...I wish I could express what I know in my heart without fear of rejection or losing a friend. But that is always a risk -- always.

...I  (still) just don't understand the allure of Batman. This topic of conversation follows me everywhere. It never used to come up at all -- then I met Parker and I swear he cursed me.

...I can't believe how close I am to turning 21. 6 months from now, I'll be 21. That is so strange.

...I strongly consider spending a lot of money on clothes and shoes (some things don't change very much). Add in an iPod and we're set.

If you want, try this yourself (even if you've done it before). Just copy and paste the bolded areas and fill in your "sometimes."

biscuits...

I found a recipe on a blog that I've been wanting to try for awhile. Seeing as it's my turn to take a treat to work tomorrow, I decided to try my hand at it.

I've never made biscuits before. That being said, the buttery little beauties that I pulled out of my oven were surprisingly delectable. I've had to stop my sisters from eating all of them so that I can share some for Tasty Tuesday (I know, I know -- English majors are so creative).

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 scant teaspoon salt

3 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

5 tablespoons butter (yes, 5 -- but I think I might use a little less next time)

3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons plain yogurt

 

Heat oven to 450. Mix together all of the dry ingredients. Cut the butter into bits, picking up the dry ingredients and rubbing the butter between your fingers. Make sure all the butter is thoroughly blended into the flour. Stir in the yogurt until the mixture forms a ball. Turn the ball onto a lightly floured surface and knead about 10 times (or 20 -- I lost count). Dough should be slightly sticky (they bake fluffier if the dough is a little stickier).

Press the dough into a 3/4 inch-thick rectangle (or if you're like me, you'll make a circle) and cut into rounds with a biscuit cutter (unless you're like me and didn't even know such a thing exists, so I used a glass cup instead). Place rounds on ungreased baking sheet. Reshape leftover dough and cut again. Bake for 7-9 minutes (7 is better than 9, at least in my oven) or until golden brown. Serve with butter and jam (strawberry is particularly good).

not today...

Woke up early -- not tired a bit. Got up, got dressed, got it under control.  Cute hair, cute dress, cute shoes, cute girl. Ready for another day.

Not ready for the questions.

They came from all directions. Concerned faces, hushed voices, worried looks and whispers.

How's your dad?
How's your family?
What did the doctors say?
What treatments is he getting?
What changes has he made?
Is he happy? Is he sad?
Are you all doing okay?
Is there anything we can do?
How's your mom?
How are your sisters?
(but worst)
How are YOU?

Sympathetic hands laid upon my arm, hugs and promises and ever more questions.

DON'T TOUCH ME I don't scream,
GO AWAY I don't say.

They believe that they are being kind. Which is why I answer -- wrote and boring -- but it's what they want to hear.

He's fine. He's tired.
They're all busy.
Shots. Pills.
Doctors. Bills.
Happy, yes. Sad, no.
Okay -- I assume so. I'm not home much.
I don't know -- I don't live at home -- I don't know what they need.
She's tired.
They're busy.
(they wait expectantly)
I'm fine, too.

I don't tell them that I'm tired. I don't tell them to go away. Instead, I go.

Left church early -- couldn't stand it anymore. Held back tears -- didn't want to explain. Escaped the people and the words and the problem they all want to dwell on. Stood under a tree and listened -- bees buzzing above my head, birds chirping in the bush, heat singing over the ground -- they ask nothing of me. No more questions.

Not today.