The desire to bake...

I've decided being poor is the worst. Not because we aren't able to eat out as much, or because we have to rent a computer due to the lack of funds to purchase our own. Not because we aren't able to buy new clothes or even a new bedspread (which we desperately need.) The main reason I hate being a poor, starving college student is because I can't buy the ingredients or supplies I need to try the long list of recipes I've collected.
On my birthday, Daniel gave me the most incredible cook book, complete with a roasting emphasis. There are so many recipes contained therein that I've been aching to attempt. (Lemon-herb infused roast duck, anyone?) But we just don't have the money to purchase a full duck!
But what I really long to explore is the world of baking. I recently found a blog titled "Dessert First." The author is a part-time cookbook writer, part-time cookbook reviewer. Can you imagine a world better than that? When she's not concocting new recipes and writing them up, she's evaluating others' recipes. Bliss! And her specialty is, you guessed it, desserts. And her passion of baking. Oh, how I share that sentiment.
She has a blog entry completely devoted to one cake. The name of said cake is Mozart. That's right, it has a name. And, as can be deduced from the name, it is quite complex. Imagine, if you will, the unorthodox combination of apples and cinnamon in chocolate. The cake is layered with "crisp, cinnamon-almond pastry alternating with a dense chocolate mousse studded with sauteed apples." The complexity and genius of the recipe is almost overwhelming--especially for a more novice cook such as myself...which is perhaps why I am so eager to attempt it.
She's also dedicated an entry to her Peppermint-chocolate Macaroons, a perfect holiday treat. The ingredients are not particularly difficult to attain, nor does the recipe require and sort of obscene amount of work. But it does require a mixer, which I do not have.
Being poor is the worst. Not only do I not have a spring-form pan to attempt Mozart, but I have no sifter for the almond, sugar, and cocoa powder ingredients to complete the tantalizing macaroons.
I find hope in the thought that someday I will not only have time to try my hand at all sorts of complex recipes, but I will also be able to afford the materials and ingredients required. How I wish that day would arrive soon.

Newlyweds?

So, today is my six month anniversary. Yeah, sure, six months doesn't sound that long until you say it like this: half a year. Okay. Okay. It still probably doesn't sound that long to most of you. But think about it from my perspective: I had only known Daniel six months when he proposed. Obviously six months is a long enough time for two people to meet, become friends, date other people, (finally) date each other, and then fall in love! We didn't have to meet any of those incredible landmarks these past six months, so think about what we've had time to accomplish.

Daniel and I have grown closer than I thought was possible. I'm almost sentimental as I think about the struggles we've been through. We've learned to work together (both at home and in our employment...it's tough learning to supervise the same staff members without seeming to gang up on them); we've learned how to balance jobs, school, home, and recreation; and we've figured out that no matter what we do, money always seem to be a concern.

We've come a long way since we met back in Jackson, a year and a half ago. I was chasing his best friend, and both of us were trying to avoid the obvious "connection" we had. Man, we were stupid. Isn't that always the way? I remember when my mom met both the boys I'd spent my summer with: Daniel, whose friendship was the most natural and strong I've ever had, and Mike, who's description fit everything I thought I wanted. My mom said "Well, Mike's a great guy. But if it doesn't work out with him, I'm definitely rooting for Daniel." I should have known. Mothers are always right.

And we've come an even longer way since we were married six months ago. I can finally predict his behavior. (He had me down in about a month...I'm obviously a little slower.) And he is finally surprised by some of the things I say and do. And we've reached a point of understanding where behavior, words, and everything else is unnecessary. I just know him. And he just knows me. We're ready for the next big task the Lord throws at us. We're ready for the rest of eternity.

So, yes, we're still "newlyweds." But the time doesn't matter anymore. Six months. Six years. Six decades, whatever. We're ready.

How to host a murder...

Last night all of the friends got together and had a murder mystery dinner. It was set in the twenties--which was incredibly fun--and I was a club owner named "Silky." By character description was essentially that I was a shady and slinky woman who out to get "Hal" Coppone for murdering my late husband. It was a blast!

I spent about a week perfecting my costume, and I think I ended up doing pretty well. I had a black, silky "dress" with a litte lace here and there, fishnet tights (complete with a seam up the back--one of my favorite touches from the evening) and the shoes that I swear are right out of "Leatherheads" or "Chicago." Daniel and I watched both movies before the evening, just for a little inspiration...and entertainment. I tied a black ribbon around my head, stashed a few play bills in the front of my dress, and topped the whole thing off with the most incredible fur coat you're ever seen. Daniel got it a DI a few years ago or something, but basically it made me the best dressed woman there...or maybe the best costumed woman. Either way, everyone loved it.

Daniel and I found an old-fashioned paper-boy hat for him to wear, and that paired with his snazzy suit and his own great-grandfather's overcoat (which I'm pretty sure is from the twenties, if not shortly there after)made him look pretty incredible as well.

Oh the hilarity

I encourage everyone to PLEASE read my sister, Lizzy's, blog as soon as possible. I find it extremely hilarious. I was sitting in the computer lab on campus this morning--at about 7:40--and had to literally stifle my own laughter. It was not easy. And when I got those "I can't believe you have something to laugh about this early in the morning," looks from people, I had to laugh even harder.
The link to her blog is at the top right of my blog. Go there. It's funny.

Denver, Tahosa, and whole lotta subs...

Ok, Ok. I'm updating. And this time it's not a tag. So there.

Life has been super crazy lately. Last week I was in Colorado for three days with my non-profit administration class. (By the way Aaron and Veronica, I wanted to call and see if we could meet up, but we had absolutely NO freaking time! We couldn't even stop to see my classmates old investigator, even though she was right down the street.) We were so busy, rushing around here and there with all sorts of Boy Scout district executives and committees and stuff, it was insane. And the only thing I had to eat the whole trip was sub sandwiches. We bought a huge two ft. long sub as we left Provo and ate it in the car, then my host family had subs that night for dinner. The next day, the Greely field director took all nine of us to "a great new sub place just around the corner--the Council's buying!" And that evening, when we pulled into Denver, the DE's were so excited to tell us all about their council and feed us--you guessed it--giant sub sandwiches. We didn't have the heart to tell them that we had had the exact same sub sandwiches twenty-four hours before that as we left Provo. As we drove back to Utah the next day, Brad (our professor) told us we would be stopping for gas in a little nameless town in Colorado. And the best part: the gas station had an A&W! But alas, in the year that Brad was away, the A&W has been replaced with--you guessed it--Subway. We were not excited, to say the least. Here's us with the Denver night skyline behind us. I'm on the right, next to the girl with the corn on her head. Can we say Popcorn Sales, anyone?

But other than the food, the trip was amazing. The last night we were there we stayed at Camp Tahosa, in Colorado. We all stayed up late watching the sky (and the numerous shooting stars...I felt like I was in Jackson again!) until we went to bed around midnight. Then, all of us girls continued to talk until two in the morning. I haven't had a "slumber party" since I was about thirteen, but I remembered why there were always so fun. Never mind that three of the five girls there were married.
We got up the next morning before the sun came up and watched the little lake up there begin to shine as the sunlight peeked over the mountain. It was so beautiful. And the aspen leaves literally glowed in the sunrise:

We also went canoeing before we left the camp. It was great, because with an odd number I got my own canoe. It felt good to be back on the water--even thought the water wasn't moving and my canoe was about five feet longer than my river canoe.

Well, the trip was amazing and enjoyed by all, but it also put me behind in my school work. I spent the better part of the weekend and almost every spare minute this week working to catch up. The first chapter of my senior thesis was due yesterday, and I thankfully finished in time. I was literally working to the very last minute though--making sure my references were all perfect and that my margins met APA guidelines. And then I have two papers due today, which I completed late last night. I'm ready for the weekend. And thankfully, I only have one class on Fridays so I don't have to do much tonight.

I did manage to destress a bit last night, though. I made molasses cookies, which I haven't had since last summer at the cabin. I didn't have ginger like I thought I did, but they still turned out alright. I don't think Daniel's as big a fan as I am, but that's ok. More for me. He just bummed cus I made four dozen molasses cookies and used up the rest of the sugar. Oh well--I made six dozen of his favorite a couple weeks ago. He should be content.

I've reached that point where it seems everyone is pregnant. So many of my friends from freshman year are now waltzing around with bellies. And my best friend--although we've kind of drifted since we both got married--has a two month old! It's crazy to me. But I guess we're all just growing up! And babies are good things. Hooray for being old...er.