There is nothing more frightening than being alone and having to be completely honest with yourself. Especially after you've been answering the same question constantly to everyone: "Why?" and you've given a million answers, so many answers that make sense and seem logical. And then, you're alone and you look in the mirror, ask yourself, "Why?" and the only answer is:

"I don't know."

And it's the truth. I don't know.

American Idiots.

So often, I am frustrated with Americans.

I don't have the right answers. I don't think anyone-- not our politicians, doctors, researchers, government, advisers, Ph.D.s, watchdogs-- has the right answers. But what about the skills to find some appropriate solutions to our problems?

And then, someone comes up with something that might-- just might-- work, and angry, belligerent idiots shoot it down for moral issues that disregard most solutions anyway. Ugh. I'm so sick of your morals stomping around on my rights.

However-- in regards to the current crisis in health care reform, all I can think about are the kids. I don't give a rat's ass about all of the people who want to hold on to their health care. Good! Great! Please do! If I still had mine, I would-- I do NOT trust the government to provide healthcare for everyone. Look at what the government does for education. Look at what it does for the military. Priorities are in line right there.

But think about kids.

If every child, of every color, socioeconomic standing, and state of health, received superb health care, free of charge, what would it do for this country? If we provided real nutrition to children in our free breakfast and lunch programs-- not mashed up and bread-coated chicken or white bread and ham sandwiches-- think of how it would change the state of health in this nation. If we were able to provide our kids with the best in medicine, maybe they could have the tools to really figure out this whole tangle for the long term.

Maybe, just maybe, health care reform for our children is the key to improving education so that we may leave future generations with the tools to do better for themselves than we can for ourselves right now.

If you would let me advise Washington, and I don't have all the answers, just one possible path to a solution, I would tell them: provide for our children and we will be OK.

If we're living by human-made rules, we can change human-made rules. We don't have to keep playing the same game the same way.

And that's my 2 cents.

25 and A-live!

Yes, folks, I survived my 25th birthday and I am still here to write about it. Definitely a tame day, but loads of fun, even though it wasn't hot enough to go swimming-- a favorite birthday past time for this summer baby. So what did I fill my day with instead?

It being Friday, Matthew and I made our weekly trip to the downtown farmer's market. The market was hopping! We picked out tons of goodies, including: spinach, cookies, pesto, noodles, cantaloupe, plums, tomatoes, a black bell pepper, squash, carrots, potatoes, and of course, our weekly bouquet of fresh-cut flowers. I spent $7 on this bouquet-- a steal considering how much a similar bouquet would cost at a local store! And they'll last just as long. So far, I'm really pleased with the flowers.

We picked up some wine and I was introduced to Back Yard Burgers, the most delicious fast food chain of all time. I'm seriously confused. Fast food? Delicious? What? I have to give those burgers a serious high-five-- that is some damn good meat.

Matt treated me to a meat-free Indian dinner that included a dish (I cannot spell it) of potatoes, chickpeas, and spinach, an 8-vegetable curry, rice, samosas, and naan. Almost every vegetable in each dish was something that we had locally purchased and Matt had bought the curry spice in Ecuador. Ben baked a chocolate and tamarind cake. I'd never had tamarind before, but I really liked it: sweet, citrus-y, and a little richer and thicker in texture and flavor than an orange. We invited new friends, Jessica and Billy, over for dinner and wine-- it was a great night!



I've been looking forward to today ever since I arrived in Pennsylvania-- the Centre County Farm Tour! I'd been debating farms all week, and had a list narrowed down to seven farms. I was only able to visit three this year; I could have toured four if I had got a move on a little earlier in the day, but I found two farms I'm really pleased with and looking forward to visiting more often! The first farm I visited was the Tait Farm. This is the farm I bought the delicious basil pesto from at the farmer's market, and I was able to take a self-guided tour around the farm. In Vegetable, Animal, Miracle, Barbara Kingsolver talks about her asparagus patch and how beautiful it is to see the asparagus grow past their cutting. The Tait Farm had a 4-year-old asparagus patch that I'm assuming will be ready for harvesting early next spring. Check out these long, willowy beauties:

Yes, that is asparagus! Really, a beautiful plant-- and I'm looking forward to early spring when I can chomp down on some fresh asparagus. It's one of my favorite foods, and I wish it was ready today!

At the next farm, Piper's Hill, there were plenty of animals to see: chickens, ducks, roosters, cows, a couple of very handsome dogs, and peacocks! Apparently, there were also goats somewhere, but I didn't see them. This was really my favorite farm of the day, and I bought a dozen eggs, a pound of ground beef, and some Honolulu beef jerky made with pineapple juice-- that jerky was so good, I already ate all of it! I also reserved my Thanksgiving turkey-- one of the cute little fellas sitting on the left-hand side here. Aren't they cute? Little do these guys know, but they will all be on Thanksgiving tables this fall. I guess it helps that they'll grow up to be a lot uglier than they are now!

AND-- it makes me feel really good to know that my turkey will be living a very happy, albeit short, life. He's free range and organic, and he gets to wander around a farm with all of his duck and chicken buddies. That's one happy stinkin' turkey (day) if you ask me.



More pictures from Piper Hill:

Happy cows are from Pennsylvania!

Ducks-- I think I scared the momma duck off her nest, and I felt bad for it!

Peacock!

In contrast to the Piper Hill Farm was the Amish farm I went to-- it wasn't on my original list, and I had never seen them at the farmer's market. I was disappointed in the general farming practices of the Amish. Your natural assumption would be that the Amish practice sustainable farming methods, not just out of respect for the earth, but also because it's more traditional. This is not at all what I observed today-- it was a conventional dairy farm, complete with very unhappy dairy cows living in their own waste, confined to fairly small quarters, and never let out to pasture. This is not the case for all of the Amish, in fact, there is an Amish farm that is a regular at the farmer's market that sells raw milk-- and you have to be a very well kept, organic, sustainable farm with grass-fed cows to be licensed to sell raw (unpasteurized) milk. But what I saw today was just... disappointing. The cheese was good (and I did buy a block-- there has to be a reason PASA supports this farm), but these cows just don't look as happy.

There was a funny moment at the Amish farm, though, when one of the cows got out of her building and went running across the road. Our young guide, Paul, and his older sister had to chase the rogue back into her building. I suspect she knew it was about time to be milked, because she was headed right toward the milking building!














What a day! I'm so thankful for living in a place now that has such a rich and abundant local food supply. There are plenty of places to get local meats, cheeses, and vegetables in Texas, but the communities to support buying locally are not quite as loud and vocal as they are here in Pennsylvania! I do want to encourage all of my friends, especially those of you in Texas, to please visit www.slowfoodusa.org or www.localharvest.org and look into local foods available in your area. It really has been more cost effective for us, and it's been one enjoyable adventure to discover what foods are currently being grown locally and how to prepare them with as few store-bought items as possible. And, when I think about it, with so many food options here, it seems awfully silly to purchase tons of food from California!

Twenty-five and alive-- and eating well to stay that way!

To sign or not to sign... the dotted line?

I have a true loathing for corporations, especially corporate restaurants. Mostly because I have the opportunity to avoid them. But that's all that has been willing to hire me here. I have about a week to back out, if other offers that fit my schedule arise.

Could be fascinating to infiltrate the corporation from a blogging/ amateur-journalist view point. You think?

I smashed the Praxis I today. ETS. I hate you, too.

In other news: I received confirmation today that I am hired as a field instructor in the Curriculum and Instruction Field Experiences office at PSU. Basically, that means I will be supervising some undergraduate pre-service teachers, and I couldn't be more satisfied. I can stay in the schools, in a role that I think will suit me well, and I can talk with other people about teaching all day. What could I possibly enjoy more? If I can get all of my hours completed by the end of the summer, then hopefully I will meet enough people to work myself into a position at a local school next year and take my thesis slowly. I want it to be well thought out.

I have bread that's about to come out of its machine. Overall, a damn good day.

What's the glamour in a cigarette?

This is mostly shameful. I was a smoker.


Was, as in, I don't consider myself to be one anymore. And yes, I'm ashamed to admit I ever fell trap to cigarette smoking. It's disgusting, filthy, and unhealthy. I knew all of these things when I picked up a cigarette for the first time some years ago. I have a lot of reasons why, a lot of other people I could blame, but when it comes down to it, I'm the one who made the decision to inhale. And I did often over the last six years.

In order to quit smoking, I had to pack up everything I owned, make a huge joint investment of time and money, and relocate many states away. What didn't work? Abstaining from alcohol. Abstaining from food. Abstaining from friends. Running a freakin' marathon. No, it took a major relocation.

For the last six weeks or so, I've only slipped a few times-- out drinking in Denton or Austin, mainly. But over the last two weeks, I haven't had a single cigarette. Not one. And although I want one, and yes, often I really want one, I haven't broken down to buy a pack or bummed off someone nearby. I have about two more weeks to really cement this in: to get my full 30 days before Mark gets here and very likely brings a pack of cigarettes.

So I have to ask myself: What's the glamour in a cigarette?

I can stink and smell. Have yellow teeth and worry about cavities. I'll need to spit like a camel and blow snot out of my nose constantly. I get cravings in embarrassing places-- like out having a drink with a co-worker who doesn't know I smoke, or worse: a group of runners. I can't wear a pair of jeans twice if I went to the bar in them, and that usually makes some of my favorite pairs unwearable at work on Fridays. My nose gets dry and bleeds sometimes. Smoky places dry out my contacts quickly. I can't run as fast. My hair has to be washed constantly. I don't want to get in clean sheets at night without a shower. Kissing. Kissing is a big worry. Especially if the guy I'm kissing doesn't smoke (and believe it or not, there have been a few who have put up with that!). Food doesn't taste as good. Sugary drinks are weird tasting instead of being a nice treat. I'm often dehydrated. My fingers smell. I cough. And cough. And cough. Especially in the spring, when I'm sick anyway, and then it gets magnified by the addition of a smoker's cough. I never want to smoke when I'm sick, but then I start smoking again anyway. How gross is that? My throat hurts more often. My ears get clogged. I have to crop my cigarettes out of pictures. I have to worry about who has pictures of me smoking cigarettes. I'll probably get the angry-looking lip wrinkles. I want a cigarette when I'm pissed off. I want a cigarette when I'm stopped by a cop. I have to worry about cancer. I have to worry about birth control. I have to worry about blod clots. I feel guilty. A lot. I have to lie to people about not smoking. I think about smoking. I have to admit to smoking in my blog.

All for what? A slightly speedier metabolism and something to hold while I've got a glass in the other hand?

I'm done. I promise. I'm really freaking done.