Sweetie Pie

It was literally the easiest recipe ever! I can't take credit, I found it online somewhere. Google is just the best...I swear I ask the most rediculous questions and it never judges me. For example, with this recipe I typed in "Fast, low fat, graham cracker crust, peach pie". And lo and behold. Thanks, internet.


Frosty Peach Pie Supreme

1 cup peach (fresh, frozen peaches sliced and divided)
16 ozs yogurt (peach)
8 ozs whipped topping (thawed)
1 graham cracker crust (8 inches)
1 Finely chop half of the peaches and place in a bowl.
2 Stir in the yogurt.
3 Fold in whipped topping.
4 Spoon into crust.
5 Cover and freeze for 4 hours or until firm.
6 Refrigerate for 45 minutes before slicing.
7 Top with remaining peaches.

Pocket Full 'A Sunshine

There are so many things about today that make it a good day....or a bad day.

Isn't it funny how so much depends on our attitude? For example, today could be a VERY good day based on the following:

1. It's huge. It's hot. It's the SUN. Seriously, it's supposed to reach high 80's today!
2. I don't have to work today. PTL too, because it's the Lord's day!
3. I have worked out in some fashion for the past 6 days, and my muscles feel deliciously abused.
4. I have all (or, ALMOST all....see below list) day to do whatever I please.
5. I don't have homework or nursing classes tomorrow!
6. I am wearing a sundress.
7. My sister and brother-in-law and there kids (including my godson!) will be here in less than a week!

And now, the cons...







Well, I started writing them out, and there were only 2, and it made me feel better to just erase them.
Yes, attitude is key.

119 min

.....why couldn't it just be 120 minutes? Why do all movies seem to hover at 93, 119, or 126 minutes? So-119 minutes. 119 minutes is how long it takes for movie characters to meet, fall in love, (possibly break up or have a couple kids too), and then end up together. Ok, so not every movie involving men and woman (which seems to be most of them), begins, endures, or ends like this. But lately I have been thinking how slow my love life seems to move. And by love life I mean the life that I mostly am just trying to figure out if it exists, or if it is just in my head. In the movies things move to progressively, so assuradly, and so predictably that most of us gripping our popcorn in "suspense" can call all the shots. More than once I have found myself frustrated by the slow passage of time. Yes, poor me, led astray from reality by the big, bad Hollywood....and poor you, subjected to listening. But this is not, in fact, a useless rant. As a matter of fact, it is simply an observation of my unrealistic expectations, and a lament of my beautiful, wonderful, impatient, and often utterly unreasonable feminine heart.

Adieu

If we did not have goodbyes.....we would never have "i miss you"'s. If we did not have goodbyes....we would never be able to look back and be grateful. If we did not have goodbyes....we would never have reunions. If we did not have goodbyes....we would take people for granted. If we did not have goodbyes....we would not learn who we truly need. If we did not have goodbyes....the heart could not grow stronger.

Nostalgia

I have the Europe blues...hardcore. Even more than that...I'm so afraid of forgetting. I hear something, see something, taste something, and it triggers a memory from a million years ago...I mean, last semester. Was it really last semester already? I'm afraid I'll forget what it was like to walk along Old Charles bridge in Prague at night. I'm afraid that it was in Krakow, Poland, that I took my first shot. Right now I can feel exactly what the icy, clear mountain air felt like at 7:56 on Wednesday mornings, walking over to the Cassidy's to babysit.





When I look at my 700 or so pictures...I think of how incomplete they are. How insufficient at grasping each city. Yet how can the sunset at the hermitage in Assisi possibly be summed up in a picture? Or Paris...I'd give anything for another day in Paris, just wandering around.


And in the midst of it all, I regret. I regret being so preoccupied by my own soreness, physical exhaustion, and preoccupation with my own worries that I did not marvel longer. If I could only go back, I would spend a lifetime's worth of time just marveling.


The sad thing is that no matter how much my heart aches for Medjugorje, or Poland, or the Kartause....I will never get another chance...not like that semester anyway. I may go back to Europe, but as far as I know, time travel is still just a fanciful wish.


So I will sit in this very American institution, drinking an overpriced coffee that I paid for in dollars, listening to mindless chatter...in English, and dream of "cafe au lait", "Danke schon", and the days long ago...I mean, last semester.

Pull up a seat

If I ever opened a coffee shop/bakery, I would call it "Mimi's place".


It just sounds cozy. It sounds like somewhere you could go to socialize, with bar stools and vintage fabric. Huge photographs of Europe hung all over the walls, with little collage pieces scattered inbetween. There would be little booths, and "study corners", isolated enough for those, like me, who get easily distracted by other people, but who still want the coffee shop feel while they study.


For goodness sake, the coffee would be good, but not overpriced. And the baked goods? Natural ingredients...simple...homebaked..and delicious. Bookshelves full of board games and my favorite books, all free for you to use.


Mimi's place is the sort of place you can lean over a mug of coffee at the bar and hear the latest neighborhood news, talk about faith, or whisper about the boy you like.


Doesn't it just sound like somewhere you'd like to go? Unfortunately, it's only in my dreams for the time being. So for now, meander over to the virtual "Mimi's Place" and pull up a metaphorical bar stool.

Thoughts from the 4th floor.

College is a funny place. We build up to it, idealize it, say we love it, and try and convince ourselves that this absurd schedule we keep is normal and "nbd", while complaining about it of course. We eat terribly, get up at absurd hours of the morning to study, play intermural sports "for fun" against people who are so good they should be on a real team, learn important life-changing information from professors who should have been fired the day they started, and call this whole thing "an education". It really should be called "an immersion".

We spend so much of our time worrying about how everyone's college experience is better than ours. Everyone else studies more, prays more (may not be a desirable trait elsewhere, but here it is), has more fun, is more well liked, and has a body totally uneffected by unlimited ice cream monday-friday and french fry decked salad. I'm starting to realize how much time we spend not spending our time. We're not in the "mood" for stepping out of our comfort zones, and by the time we figure out what a blessing it is to be "young and dumb" (song my mat kearney...the rest of the title is "in love", but let's face it...we're not all in love), we have wasted the "young" part, and the "dumb" is looked down upon less favorably. Ok, so don't take this as my personal "screw rules and let's drink till we pass out", this is simply my thought progression on a typical Tuesday night.

"Oh, to be young and dumb and in love...."