Back to the Frozen Tundra.

It's weird when you go home and home doesn't feel like home.

What's even more bizarre is coming back to where you live hoping that might feel more like home and it doesn't. It's like all of the sudden you don't have an anchor. Nothing keeps you centered. Panic sets in. Suddenly you don't know who you are or what identifies you. Deep breath. Brown bag, please.

I don't know why I described that in the second person . I guess it's easier to disassociate myself from that reality. Now I'm laughing. What does that even mean? It's fleeting. I'm going to make it. I think it has something to do with the fact that the landscape is draped in frozen clouds and the temperature outside has not reached about zero since the beginning of the New Year. When a forecast in the teens feels like a heat wave you know something is terribly wrong.

I learned what "Arctic Sun" is today. It's a lie. The Sun is out. It looks like it might be pleasant outside, but it's not. It's freezing. I ran to my car yesterday with no shoes on. Bad idea. The good news is I still have nine toes.

So will I make until the ice melts? Probably. Although, I fairly convinced there may be some bets against me. That's fine. They'll lose their money. I'm too competitive to back down now. I will win. Even with the dumb Arctic Sun.

Going Home.

I'm nine hours from being home. In N Out. Sushi. Sleeping in my own bed. Buggy. Mom's breakfast. 70 degrees warmer than it is here. I'm excited...but I'm kind of sad. Who thought I would ever miss this frozen tundra. I already do and I'm not even gone yet.

Crap. This is totally not fair.

Wnter is Here.

Alright...it's been a few weeks. I survived Thanksgiving in the Midwest. I made some of mom's stuffing and hashbrown casserole to remind me of home. I think I single-handedly finished off the hashbrowns. They were good. You shouldn't waste that stuff.

Chad and I went Christmas Tree Hunting after Thanksgiving. My favorite family tradition is cutting down the Christmas Tree and I'm pretty bummed about missing it this year, but I think I'll make it. Chad and I didn't cut down the tree, but he was smart enough to know a fake tree wouldn't cut it. So we have a Home Depot tree. I'm sure my mom was horrified, but we won't make a habit of it. I couldn't deal with that.

So, Thanksgiving, trees, lots of Christmas candy, oh, and the snow is here. And I'm pretty sure it's here to stay for a while. It's been COLD the last few days. The lakes are frozen. The roads are slick. And I've learned a few things about snow (and COLD) that I didn't know before. Here's the list:

• Eric Craine told me that when driving in the snow the one thing I need to know is to NOT drive like his wife. So, don't drive like Kara. Check.
  
• You can't leave mascara in the car over night because the tube will freeze and frozen mascara doesn't work.
  
• Don't brake going downhill, you'll end up in a ditch. Check. Don't drive like Kara. Check.
• A lake has to be frozen at least two inches to walk on it, but most people won't go on it until it's been frozen for at least a week or two and they know it's a good four or five inches thick. Why didn't I know this? Because I hang out with the Katzenbergers and as soon as there is ice. They risk it. Sometimes with a four-wheeler.
  
• While TOMS are great shoes, they don't have any traction.
• Ice skating makes you sore like skiing makes you sore. Thing car accident pain.
  
• Running in the snow isn't so bad. It's actually kind of nice. Until you reach a hill.

I'm sure as I drive off the roads and fall through lakes there will be more lessons to learn. I'll keep you posted. And seriously...I keep hearing myself saying really Minnesotan things. This morning I said "spose". Not good.

Hotdish vs. Hot Dish

In my last post I mentioned a "Hot Dish". It's what the rest of the world refers to as a casserole. Since I'm new to using Minnesota lingo, I feel like I deserve some leniency in my word usage. Regardless, as it turns out "Hot Dish" and "hot dish" are two very different things.

hot dish







Hot Dish









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Hot Dish








hot dish







Hot Dish






hot dish








Hot Dish







Get the picture? Thanks for correcting me, dear friend. I don't know what I would do without you. Seriously...that could have been awkward.

Pumping Iron.

The only person I ever talk to when I am working out is Heather and that is because she was my running partner for like three years. Under no circumstances do I ever make conversation with someone working out at the gym. I'm sweaty and angry and often in pain. My ability to think clearly is not optimal so avoiding conversation is probably the best option.
That's what I thought anyways...apparently we do things differently in California. We don't really talk to strangers unless it's necessary. I'm not saying it's right...it's just what we do. I am on a mission. Stopping for conversation is not a good use of my time. That's how we treat the gym too.

So today I'm on the elliptical and in walks Bob. I'd been going for about 40 minutes, so past the halfway mark, but not far enough to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I was hot. Thirsty. Sweaty. You know- the usual. And Bob gets on the machine next to me....there was no one else in the gym...he had his choice of a dozen other machines and he picks the one by me. He throws his towel in what I can only assume was his way of marking his territory and proceeds to change the station on the TV I was watching. There's six TVs, friends, six TVs.

I have no poker face, as I am often reminded, so I know my dismay was written all over my face. So Bob gets on his machine and proceeds to launch into a typical midwest conversation. Weather. Snow. Hot Dishes. Agriculture. Hunting Fleet Farm. Weather. Snow. Repeat.

Are you kidding me? I just want to achieve cardiovascular health in peace. No sirry, Bob. Not today. Today I get to share my workout with Bob.

I finished my workout and proceeded to the the mats to build my core that has suffered at the hands of cheap food and lack of access to ample running locations. And Bob follows. Really?

I can appreciate the effort. He was trying to be nice. I get that. I just don't want to talk while I'm working out. Is that so wrong?

Happy Birthday to me.

Just celebrated my 27th birthday...only my third one away from home. I don't really consider myself a big birthday person...parties freak me out a little. I am not a fan of surprises AT ALL.

I'm a closet control freak. What can I say?

Anyways...it's totally weird not celebrating your birthday with your family and the people you've always celebrated with. When you're not there people forget...which is kinda lame, but not that big of a deal...I think it's just one of those things where life keeps going whether you're there or not. Strange reality of a move, I guess.

My birthday is within 10 days of two of my best friends, Katie and Jodi, and we've been celebrating our bithdays together our entire lives, minus a few years we were living in other states or away at school. But it feels odd to miss that and turn a year older without them.

BUT...my amazing boyfriend and my amazing Kara made it a really great day. There was some initial talk of a party, which I would have been fine with because I know they were trying to make it a cool day, but last week they surprised me with a change of plans.

Kara made me crepes for breakfast...complete with Nutella and whipped cream. Yum. Then we piled in the car and road tripped down to a college soccer game- yes, they sat through all 90 minutes with only one goal scored. I was impressed with both of their ability to sit still. ESPECIALLY, Kara. I think that's the longest she's sat in one place for that long...maybe ever. So soccer, of course, was an amazing thing to do. I love it and miss playing so much. So good choice, guys.

Then we went to dinner in the cities- Melting Pot. Totally fun restaurant. You can't really beat melted cheese and melted chocolate. So, in all, it was a great day.

I'm 27 and that feels kind of strange.I know, I know...it's not that old. I'm far from old. But getting older just feels weird. It feels not that long ago that I was that 18 year old little girl getting with a backpack and a passport traveling the world. Now, I find myself saying things like "I haven't talked to them in years"...and that feels weird. My friends have kids that are getting kind of old. I've been out of college for what feels like a long time. It's like time goes by faster as you get old. Chad has a theory on that, but you'll have to ask him.

Hunting Opener

It's like a freaking holiday. Camo at the grocery store. Rifles in the bank. What is this? I thinking the opening weekend of Hunting Season is like the biggest day of the year in Minnesota. People stop working. They stop shopping. They stop buying food because they have plans to eat venison until the snow melts. Not exactly the time of year to take up vegetarianism.

I don't eat deer. I don't shoot things. I'm going to quietly celebrate my 27th birthday this weekend while everyone else in the state goes off to the woods to try and take down Bambi and his mama. Poor thing.

Did I mention that Chad is NOT a hunter? Thank you, Lord.