5 Things: Prayers for the Stanford Case

It is very early. I'm sipping my first cup of coffee as the pink light glows through my window. Today's going to be busy - lots to see and certainly lots to do. But even in this early hour, thoughts are bouncing around in my head.

I'm not foolish enough to think that there hasn't already been enough said - and said better than I could say it - on this topic. I mean, gosh, Joe Biden wrote a beautiful response that everybody should just re-post. The women of Girls made a powerful infomercial about it.  

So in the stillness of this morning, what I've got are prayers. 

For the people at the center of news stories - the villains, the antagonists. For those whose darkest parts have bubbled to the surface; whose names will forever bring to mind a tragic story. Receive our indignation, but make us humble. Help us to wholly and loudly condemn their actions; help us to keep our stones uncast in our pockets. Close our mouths when hateful words are leaping out; keep us mindful that beneath all our floorboards lives a part of ourselves we try to keep hidden, even from You. Narrow our focus on defending those in need; soften our hearts so that we remember that we are in need of so much. Keep angry name-calling out of our words; turn that holy fire into acts of love and prayer. Make the unrepentant penitent - especially when the "unrepentant" includes us. Turn our begrudging hearts to those we don't want to look at directly, who now face the wrath of an unforgiving world. We pray for redemption, for clean hearts, for the brokenness of a world in which acts of violence (and defending those acts of violence) are simply the horrible expressions of the most confused and angriest among us. Make us unrelenting defenders of justice. We pray to the Lord. Lord, in Your mercy - 

For the victims - dragged into the spotlight with no choice in the matter. Our hearts ache. Make us not just spectators, detail-collectors, or gossips - make us people of action. Make us people who say, "I am listening. I am here." We hold these wonderful, blameless, brave, everyday people in mind - we honor their struggle and their tears; we celebrate their triumphs and their speaking out. We don't understand, but open our eyes and our ears to Your children. Help us to be wise enough to know this chapter has been written on the souls of these women, but that they are not this chapter alone. We ask that your presence be known among them, that in their waking and sleeplessness and crying and laughter alike, in their loneliness, whether they've told their stories or locked them away, that they are loved and cherished. We pray to the Lord. Lord, in Your mercy - 

For the cyclists - and the cyclists in all of us. For the Samaritans who stopped and spoke out. These are the people You've called us to be- unafraid of getting entangled with an undesirable situation, and, instead, hurling ourselves toward the center of where it hurts. Forgive us for the many opportunities we've missed, and keep our eyes wide open to see them in the future. However tiny, however huge, we know that "love" is an action verb. Cover us anew with a higher regard for our fellow man than for ourselves. Amplify the voice within each of us that whispers, "How can you help?" Make our days testaments to the love we have shown, because walking alongside You means we stop at every chance we get. Strip us of our money, our clothes, our energy, burn our wicks down for our brothers and sisters. We pray to the Lord. Lord, in your Mercy - 

For women - navigating a world that is unsafe. For women who clutch their keys while walking through a darkened parking lot, who carry a weapon on a walk around the neighborhood, who accidentally leave their pepper spray in the car and feel uneasy all night because of it. For women whose closest friends have become the source of their deepest wounds. For women who have been made to feel that their behavior or their attire was consent enough. For the complicated relationship women have with their bodies after someone has tried to lay claim on it. For the women whose stories go untold because of their color or sexual orientation, and the women whose stories aren't trusted because of their gender. We ask for light in the blackest corners of our world, so that no one has to suffer in anonymity. We pray to the Lord. Lord, in Your mercy - 

For every person who has encountered this story - stumbling across it online or hearing about it on the news. Break our hearts in despair. Sit with us as we cry in confusion. And then, in our sadness, turn our faces toward our sons. In our grief, make us teachers. Give us strong words to use. Speak through our fumbling and discomfort. Use these moments of awkwardness around the dinner table as stakes in the garden; as a strong foundation around which the lives of our children can grow and thrive. Snap us to attention so that we sing the worth of every person at every opportunity. Make "humility" and "respect" and "consent" fall out of our mouths so often that we're met with rolling teenage eyes because they've heard us say it so many times before. Make us blessedly redundant. We pray to the Lord. Lord, in Your mercy - 

Hear our prayer. 

DNR -JTI: Airplanes and Airports.

As always, credit where it's due to Mollie Erickson who invented DNR - JTI on her much funnier blog, found here. 

While traveling to Tulsa for Memorial Day weekend, I was writing this post in my head. 

Dear Person Who Isn't Listening,
I see, despite the multiple reminders from the TSA agent whose job it is to stand near the metal detector and yell this, that you've still failed to remove your laptop from its case until just before your belongings go on the conveyor belt. I'm also willing to bet that you've forgotten to take off your belt and that it's gonna beep. ...yep, there it is! You gotta go back. I want to strangle you. With your belt. So does everyone else.  DNR - JTI. 

Dear Two Small Children and Infant in the Row Behind Us,
I won't lie. I noticed your presence and cringed. I was feeling sorry for myself that I'd have to put up with your wailing screaming tantrums the whole flight. I was even thinking about buying some alcohol from the beverage cart. To my enormous surprise and delight, all three of you fell asleep immediately upon takeoff. Please accept my apologies for judging you. You (and your parents) should get an Awesome Award. DNR - JTI.

Dear Head Flight Attendendant,
I know, I'm seated on an exit row. I'm more than happy to stow my large purse underneath my own seat, since there is no seat in front of me. I do not, as you so passive aggressively put it, need to "partner with the man in front of me to clear the area." No one needs a partner. I'm good. Have a drink. DNR - JTI. 

Dear The Pilot,
I read somewhere that most plane crashes take place during takeoff or landing. You're a real gem for not blowing us up. Seriously, I can't even believe that planes are a thing. You're so good at your job. But maybe get that one flight attendant outta here. DNR - JTI. 

Dear Flying, 
I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever stop dropping my jaw in total wonder over the fact that we are thousands of feet in the air, hurtling through space, sitting in a metal tube. It MELTS MY FEEBLE MIND. I love being alive. DNR - JTI. 

Dear People Collecting Your Belongings at the End of Security, 
Hi. I am very, very late for my flight. In fact, my husband and I will momentarily sprint to our gate and be two of the last four people admitted on board. I also got up at 3 AM in order to drive to the Greenville airport to get on this plane. I'm not feeling super generous. It would really help me out if, instead of standing at the end of the conveyor belt and putting your shoes back on there, you'd be a pal, scoop up all your things and take them somewhere less to re-dress yourself. I know, you're relieved they didn't notice that you packed your > 3 oz. bottle of shampoo. But just celebrate over there, okay? Thanks! DNR - JTI. 

Dear Everyone on the Plane,
Why are you shooting out of your seats when the plane lands? Do you think you're getting outta here any faster because of that? See how this whole aisle is clogged with people? Just sit on down. I don't get it. DNR - JTI. 

Dear Couple Making Out,
So we're all in that lockjam waiting to get off the plane, and you guys are hardcore making out. There are people mere inches from your heads, but that isn't stopping you. Other passengers are looking away with embarrassment, but you don't care. You're goin' for it. And now you're taking a selfie. While making out. I can't decide if I'm grossed out or impressed at your genuine and total lack of shame. I think both. Jordan and I are giggling to hard for me to tell. DNR - JTI. 

Dear Man Across the Aisle, 
Wow. You have a lot of stories. A lot of LOUD stories. A lot of loud, semi-inappropriate stories. I am turning the white noise app on my phone up and putting my earphones in. Except...I can still hear you. With the white noise turned all the way up inside my ears.  DNR - JTI. 

Dear Man Next to the Story-Telling Guy,
I saw you at baggage claim and told you that you get an award for being the most patient passenger on the flight. You smiled and agreed that that guy was loud and verbose, but then touched my arm and looked at me as if to say, "It's okay - sometimes people just need to talk," and wished me a wonderful day. Thanks for reminding me that sometimes we all just need to scream our stories at a person we'll never see again. I think you might have been Jesus. DNR - JTI. 

5 Things: Myths about Food that Drive me Bonkers.

Listen. Everyone should eat how and what they want. 

Food, and all our neuroses that go along with food, is really tough stuff. Especially for women. My own experience with food, like many people's, has been a constant yo-yo. I am always in a state of "YES GIVE ME THE MEXICAN FOOD I'm eating whatever I want to right now," or "I'm eating clean, only celery for me!" It's not a terribly healthy way to live, but it's the truth, so I'm telling it. 

One of the things that really gets me, though, is when information is mishandled (or just plain made up) in order to play on many women's desire to lose weight. Because of that, I sat down at my computer last week and have done a week's worth of reading and research to bring you my 5 most annoying food myths and the truth behind them. 

1. All calories are equal. 

Counting calories has never been something I've understood. I think all millennials grew up listening to our parents and grandparents use a food's calorie count to determine its inherent healthiness.

In reality, this is a really deceptive system. If you've seen the movie Fed Up, you've already heard this example, but bear with me:

Let's say you eat 160 calories' worth of almonds. Those calories are nutrient-rich. Your body is getting fiber, a slow blood-sugar rise, and a low likelihood of fat production. The digestion of those almonds requires more energy from your body. (Carbohydrates yield 4-ish kilocalories of energy, while alcohols yield 7 kilocalories, and proteins yield 9 kilocalories. Proteins pack a wallop because they take so much energy to digest, and they provide more energy for longer. [NERD ALERT NERD ALERT!]) 

If you drink 160 calories' worth of Coke, on the other hand, you're getting empty calories: a spike in blood sugar, and, therefore, in fat production. Coke absorbs straight into your bloodstream through your stomach lining, so not much of it goes through your digestive tract. Your body doesn't have to spend any extra energy breaking it down. 

Same calorie count, VERY different results.

To me, counting calories doesn't make much sense - it's a lot to try to keep up with, and also can get really tricky when you consider that the nutritional value of a calorie is so different from food to food. Instead, it makes more sense to know what you're eating (less processed food, more natural/whole food). 

2. Certain foods/products/oils/wraps can "detoxify" you. 

This might be the one that bugs me most of all. "Detoxing" is not a real thing. Well - let me go back. If you're a person who's addicted to drugs and/or alcohol, then of course - detoxing is a real, and imperative, process. 

But if you're a 25-year-old woman, chances are someone's tried to sell you something in a "cleanse" or a "detox" form. 

The truth is, there's no such thing as "detoxifying" your body with a juice cleanse or a regimen of chili powder in your lemon water. Our bodies do that for us! Our liver, kidneys, even our skin - all organs that are working 24-hours a day to rid us of anything harmful. There's no such thing as "detoxifying" a vital organ - that's something that's been invented to sell us things. 

Here's the nugget of truth in those claims: if you intensively eat fewer calories per day of clean, whole foods, then you will probably lose weight, experience less inflammation, have clearer skin, and maybe even more energy. It's true that you'll probably also give your organs a break from having to process all the sugar and sodium from the foods you eat. If you use a wrap, you will probably notice an immediate drop in inches around your waistline or thighs. But that's water weight - not "toxins." 

While it's definitely true that cutting low-nutrition food out of our diets can cause provide us with many positive health benefits, the idea that we're "flushing the toxins out of our systems" on a lemon water diet is just not accurate. 

Not sure about this? Here are a couple of articles for you to peruse. 

3. Fat makes you fat. 

Here's the truth about "low-fat" products: 

Fat tastes really good. I mean, right? Like BUTTER. OH my gosh. Butter is king. Or maybe butter is queen. Probably queen. Butter Queen. Should be the companion to Burger King. 

Anyway, I digress. 

My point is, when companies make something "low-fat," they have to replace that fat with something in order for the product to taste good. Normally, they use sugar to supplement the fat. Sugar is not a bad thing inherently, but we aren't built to eat lots of it. Think about it: thousands of years ago, people were hunting and gathering. When they came across a sweet fruit or a sugar source, it was scarce! So their bodies reacted just like ours do today: the spike in blood sugar caused their pancreas to produce insulin, which turned that sugar into fat stores. And that was good! Those reserves gave their bodies energy in order to keep moving, because their bodies knew that they weren't likely to receive another sugar bump for quite some time. 

Today, we POUND sugar - it's hidden in everything from canned pasta sauce to mayonnaise. But our bodies are still the bodies of our ancestors - we create extra fat stores from the sugar we consume. The problem is twofold: one, sugar is no longer scarce. It's EVERYWHERE. And two, we don't have a need for those extra fat stores anymore. We drive. We sit on the couch. And those extra fats that we used to need sit dormant. 

So - sugar is something to watch. If you haven't before, start looking at the labels on the back of your food. Added sugar is hidden in even the healthiest products, like KIND bars and Naked Juice. 

Another quick and important thing to note is that "fat" is very diverse - the fat we refer to in our bodies - the stuff we're trying to lose - is usually caused by sugar, not butter or grease. There's also such a thing as a healthy fat: avocados, nuts, olive oil, and fish are some great examples! 

4. Carbs are evil. 

Man, this is one that really hits home for me. 

Before I did The Whole 30, if I was trying to lose weight, that meant cutting "carbs," also known to me as bread, pasta, potatoes, and cake. 

Turns out, carbohydrates are much more diverse than that. I have two problems with this food myth. 

First, demonizing a food group is a bad habit. Cutting out an entire food group simply because we think it causes us to gain weight is not good for us. This is a perfect example of how the messaging around things like the "Low-Carb Atkins Diet" is messing with our heads. Just like produce, a little dairy, and protein, carbohydrates make up an important part of our diets - they aren't bad! 

Secondly, what bothers me is that the word "carbs" is so misleading. Of course, there are unhealthy carbs: refined carbs. They call them "refined" because they've been stripped of their fiber and nutrients, and those are the carbs we find in things like cake, pizza crust, cookies, and sugar cereals. But there are also GOOD carbs and grains! Quinoa, brown rice, whole barley, corn - all of these foods have their nutrients in tact, which means (just like the calorie example from earlier) that they take more energy to break down in our bodies, while also providing us with lots of fiber and other goodness. 

I've done diets where I've cut grains completely, and I won't lie - I've lost lots of weight. But I also missed the point: which grains were bad, and which were actually healthy. 

5. Packaging is telling us the truth. 

One of the saddest scenes I've ever seen in a documentary (and I mean sad sincerely, not sarcastically) was a shot of an overweight family shopping the aisles at a grocery stores, and pulling things like Low Fat Cheez Its and Diet Coke because they genuinely thought that it would be healthier than their regular counterparts. 

The truth is, unless you can pronounce every single ingredient in your products, it's probably best not to buy it. 

The marketing departments behind processed food are very careful to snag our eyes - they use bright colors, fun mascots, and words like "wheat" and "reduced fat." But we can easily outsmart them. 

Let's crack some examples: 

• "Multi-grain" or "wheat." They're trying to trick you into assuming that "multi-grain" is the same as "whole grain." But the words "whole grain" aren't anywhere to be found. Check the label. If the words "bleached flour" are included, you know you've been had. Unless the product says, "100% whole grain," chances are, the grains you're eating have had the nutrients processed right out of them. 
• Energy or granola bars. It sounds healthy on its own, but check the label - if you see sugar added, or better yet, disguised (agave nectar, dextrose, fructose, honey), you know that product isn't what it's claiming to be. 
• Lean Cuisine (and other prepared meals). When you look at the ingredients list, your jaw will drop. There is SO. MUCH. SODIUM. in these meals. Not to mention the preservatives that are packed in to keep the food safe to eat. While these meals are so convenient and simple, they're also not terribly healthy when it comes right down to it.

And those are just a few. Bottom line: read the labels. And if possible, buy as little processed food as you can! Shop from the perimeter of your grocery store: produce, dairy, meat, and DONE. 

---

All of this to say, my friends, I want us to eat however we want. Want an entire pizza to yourself tonight? Go for it. Want to binge the new season of Grace and Frankie while wasting an entire gallon of Phish Food? Call me to come over. Done it. 

But do all of this with KNOWLEDGE. Don't let food companies, diet books, or Facebook posts teach and trick you about the food you choose to put into your body. YOU are brilliant and fabulous, and you owe it to yourself to be educated on something you do every day: eat. 

Love you and see ya next week! 

The Newlywed Game: Jordan and Me

Earlier this week, I saw someone post these questions on Facebook as a really fun way to pass the time on a roadtrip. Well, we accidentally forgot to do them on the way back from Tulsa, so we're doing them now.

We both answered these sets of questions separately and without discussing them or cheating, then read our answers out loud to each other. Jordan did a lot better guessing mine than I did guessing his. Ha! Hope these make you giggle! 

ROUND ONE: I ask and Jordan answers. 

Me: What is something I always say to you? 
Jordan: You call me "Stink!" a lot.  
My answer: "Stink!'

Me: What makes me happy? 
Jordan: Food.
My answer: You and Tom Hanks! And food.  

Me: What makes me sad?
Jordan: Mean people and sad things. Um, more specifically, like...hurt animals and/or dead animals; being away from people you love (or Tom Hanks). 
My answer: Feeling like I'm career-aimless right now. 

What was I as a child?
Jordan: Angsty. 
My answer: You'll say I was angsty. 

How old am I?  
Jordan: How what? You're 27. Of course. 27 years, 4 months, and 14 days old. 
My answer: 27. You better get this right. 

What's my favorite thing to do?
Jordan: *Gives me a look as if to say, "Is this gonna be okay if I say it out loud?"* then says, "Eat? I mean, I'm sorry, but that's true. Also people - you love people." 
My answer: Watch bad TV and hang out with you guys. And blog. And sing. And eat, honestly. 

How tall am I? 
Jordan: Are't you like 5' 5 3/4'' and you tell people you're 5'6''? 
My answer: 5'6''. 

What do I do when you're not around? 
Jordan: Watch bad TV and, uh...text. Um, chores: groceries, cleaning, other inside chores. I guess, also work. 
My answer: Chores and watch trashy TV.

If I become famous, what will it be for?
Jordan: I think writing, honestly.
My answer: Maybe singing or writing? 

What am I good at?
Jordan: What are you good at? You're good at a lot of things, that's not very fair. I mean, how do you start listing, alphabetically or chronologically? (He then went on to say about 5 minutes' worth of REALLY nice things that made me glad we got married.) 
My answer: I guess singing and writing, and maybe cooking? 

What makes you proud of me? 
Jordan: You take really good care of our family. And everyone that meets you loves you! And when you say something really funny. 
My answer: You like that I'm a good cook and that I'm a generally nice person. 

What is my favorite food?
Jordan: Mashed potatoes. 
My answer: Mashed potatoes.

Where is my favorite place to eat?
Jordan: Dining room table. Oh, sorry, I misunderstood. Any Mexican place or any pizza place. Or somewhere expensive. 
My answer: Mexican or pizza. Doesn't really matter where. My standards are very low. 

Where is my favorite place?
Jordan: Home, but that to you is still your parents' house.
My answer: Anywhere my family is. 

How old was I when we met? 
Jordan: 25. Wait. No. 24. 
My answer: 23.

When is our anniversary?
Jordan: August 2nd. 
My answer: 8/2/14

If I could go anywhere, where would it be? 
Jordan: Is it Italy where you want to go so bad? 
My answer: Greece or Italy. 

Do you think you could live with me forever?
Jordan: Yeah, that's what I signed up for. Right?? 
My answer: You're contractually obligated to, so this question is null. 

How do I annoy you? 
Jordan: Do you want the list chronologically or alphabetically? Haha!
My answer: With games like this. 

What is your favorite thing about me?  
Jordan: Your personality. I just like you. 
My answer: You'll say something like, "Your butt - I mean, heart!" 

ROUND TWO: Jordan asks and I answer.  

What is something I always say to you? 
Mary: "Mary..." (in a warning tone because I'm about to accidentally hurt myself somehow.)
Jordan's answer: "Unbelievable."

What makes me happy? 
Mary: Tom Hanks and me. And fishing.
Jordan's answer: Being outside and in the woods. And my little family.

What makes me sad?
Mary: People who can't defend themselves from being picked on or bullied. 
Jordan's answer: People who can't defend themselves getting taken advantage of.

What was I as a child? 
Mary: Independent. 
Jordan's answer: What does this even mean? I've been sitting here for like 5 minutes and can't figure that out. Probably good sometimes and bad sometimes, happy, sad, fun, mean, loud, quiet, etc...

How old am I?  
Mary: 28. 
Jordan's answer: I'm 28. <who the hell doesn't know that IN THE NEWLYWED GAME?! Their own age or their NEW spouse's?!>

What's my favorite thing to do?
Mary: Be outside in nature. And fish. And hang out with us. 
Jordan's answer: Hiking and/or fishing with MC and TH.

How tall am I? 
Mary: You are exactly 6'0''. 
Jordan's answer: 6'0"

What do I do when you're not around?
Mary: Fly fish, mostly. Or watch bad sci fi movies that you know I'll hate.
Jordan's answer: Fish, read, hike... you know, stuff.

If I become famous, what will it be for? 
Mary: Inventing something or being a great teacher later in life. 
Jordan's answer: Probably something dentist-y but I wish it was something more interesting. <Jeez, I can't even be creative in my own fantasy. My power of flight! Oh wait, did I just say that out loud?>

What am I good at? 
Mary: Eye roll because you're good at (and know you're good at) a lot. But I love how good you are at crazy crafting/woodworking, I love your curveball skill of being a great sketch artist, and obviously you're a very good doctor.
Jordan's answer: This is a loaded question - pass.

What makes you proud of me?
Mary: I love how great you are with other people - you can always make a situation fun and make everybody in the room feel comfortable. You're very funny (don't let it go to your head), and I really do admire you as a medical professional. You're very gentle and kind to your patients, but still execute at a very high level. 
Jordan's answer: She sometimes mentions: how hard I work, that I try to be nice to people, <All of these questions seem so ego-stroking. Eesh.>

What is my favorite food? 
Mary: You don't really have favorite food like I do, as in you don't really crave anything ever. But you do love my cooking (tomato soup particularly) and cheesecake. 
Jordan's answer: Don't have one but I enjoy pretty much everything. Maybe just 'good food.'

Where is my favorite place to eat?
Mary: Outside? I don't know. 
Jordan's answer: Same as above. Depends.

Where is my favorite place? 
Mary: Around your family. 
Jordan: Home (in Asheville).

How old was I when we met? 
Mary: 24.
Jordan's answer: 24. 

When is our anniversary? 
Mary: 8/2/14
Jordan's answer: August 2, 2014

If I could go anywhere, where would it be?
Mary: Probably a tour of the National Parks. You would love that. 
Jordan's answer: Some amazing national park with amazing views, but not one specifically. Maybe the Patagonia/Andes of Argentina. Or Switzerland. If domestic, Yosemite National Park or British Columbia.

Do you think you could live with me forever? 
Mary: As you said when we got married, "These rings are like tiny handcuffs." 
Jordan's answer: That's what the contract says.

How do I annoy you?
Mary: You sometimes come and mess with me while I'm cooking, which I hate because I'm too spastic to be trusted not to horribly injure myself. But my big one is BEARD CLIPPINGS IN THE SINK. 
Jordan's answer: I'm grouchy when I'm tired/hungry, I hate traffic, I don't sit-still-and-not-do-things very well.

 What is your favorite thing about me?
Mary: You are kind and tender-hearted despite your acerbic wit and attempts at looking callous sometimes. Hehe! And your height.
Jordan's answer: Hopefully my personality or something along those lines. Also, I'm tall(ish).

HA! Hope you enjoyed this goofiness. Try it out on your spouse or girlfriend/boyfriend - it's actually kind of hysterical. 

Happy Thursday! 

Puppy Birthday Cake

I can already see your eyes rolling. I know. It's bad. The obsession has reached critical mass. 

But if you're like me (have no children and love your dog more than just about anything), then you probably get it. 

On the 27th, our little pup turned two! Can't believe it's been two years since we took him home when he was four weeks old. He was SO teeny, and we weren't sure his little snub nose was ever going to pop out. Turns out he got to be pretty handsome. 

4 weeks old in this picture. I mean, come on. 

Since we were in Tulsa for his actual birthday, I made him a cake yesterday and thought I'd share the recipe in case you fellow Crazy Dog People ever need it. It's so simple and, with a bundt pan, can be so pretty! 

Ingredients:
1 cup carrots
1 t baking soda
1 large egg
1/4 cup peanut butter
1/3 cup honey
1 cup flour (if your dog has a grain allergy, you can use almond or potato flour here) 
1/4 cup cooking oil
(And one dog toy stuffed monkey for good measure.) 

Directions: 

1. Preheat oven to 350. Give your carrots a rough chop so they look something like this. 

2. The rest is purely measuring and dumping. In a large bowl, add the carrots and remainder of your ingredients: 

3. Stir mixture together until well-combined. Spray a bundt pan (or 9x9 cake pan) with non-stick cooking spray and add mixture. 

4. Pop that bad boy in the oven for 40 minutes, then remove to cool. If you're extra insane like me, you can make a melted frosting out of peanut butter while it's still hot by adding a dollop of peanut butter to an icing spatula. And add candles, of course. Because we might as well.

After the cake has cooled, ask your husband to video. But definitely cut it up, because otherwise your dog will be confused. And your husband will probably make everyone a little sick by turning the camera sideways mid-way through the video. And make sure your bra strap is hanging out. All necessary ingredients. But your dog? Your dog will LOVE IT. 

Happy birthday, my sweet buddy!! I love you so much! 

The Ways My Brain Runs Wild.

Everyone does it. 

You're standing or sitting somewhere with some time on your hands. Something happens. And immediately, your imagination runs wild. This most often happens to me when I'm left alone with my thoughts - driving, doing something mundane and repetitive like folding laundry or taking a shower. A key ingredient in this process is that I don't have visual stimulus - audio, sure. Podcast, radio, the low hum of people talking - all fine. But if I'm in front of the TV, this never happens. Which probably should be a commentary on how imagination works. Anyway, the point is that, left to my own devices, my mind morphs into the mind of Michael Scott from The Office.

Not sure what I mean? Walk with me. 

Actual scenario:
I'm at work. I'm folding sweaters. Outside, I hear the screech of car tires. A sedan has narrowly avoided a pedestrian crossing the street. Everything is okay. Shaken, but otherwise unharmed, the people go about their business. 

In my head: 

The woman actually got hit by the car. I, being the only person who saw this happen, rush to the scene, sweater in hand. "Come back!" my co-workers cry as the magnetic sensor at the door sounds the theft alarm, but I can't hear them. I'm in the zone. The driver of the car is now emerging and, to his horror, this woman's bone is sticking out of her leg.

"DON'T MOVE HER!" I shout, the clear medical expert in the group. Then I become gravely serious. "If there's damage to her spine, we'll only make it worse. Someone call 911. Sir, take off your belt!" 

"What?!" 

"YOUR BELT, DAMN IT, I'M SAVING A LIFE!" 

The man quickly removes his belt and hands it to me, marveling at my steady hands and expertise in a crisis. I look at the injured woman, who for some reason is Dame Maggie Smith. "Don't worry," I say reassuringly. "This is all going to be okay. Just try to breathe." I tighten the belt above the woman's knee as a makeshift tourniquet, the paramedics arriving at the scene. "Thank you, ma'am," they nod to me. "I can't believe you know so much about medicine." 

"I was nothing," I reply. "I'm happy all those episodes of Grey's Anatomy have paid off." 

And with that, I tip my hat (because I'm wearing one) and stroll away.  

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...see what I mean? Okay. Now that you've got the hang of it, let's do a few more. 

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Actual scenario: 
Jordan is 4-6 minutes later than usual coming home from work. 

In my head: 
After 4 minutes, I call him and he doesn't answer. I get a sixth sense, which is really just my special name for the feeling called "completely unfounded anxiousness." That must mean one of the following things has happened: 

1. Terrible dental trauma resulting in someone's head being accidentally detached
2. Grizzly car wreck that ends in an explosion
3. Alien abduction 
4. Kidnapping, including a letter pinned to my door with magazine cut-out letters: "We have him, send $$$." Joke's on them. I only have $5. 

I want to call him a million times, but I don't. I don't want to look crazy. (The irony is not lost on me here.) I call my mother and nervously chatter, all the while drumming my fingers on the table and sweating through my shirt. With every passing car, Tom Hanks' ears perk up and he runs to the back door, but it isn't Jordan. 

I imagine my life as a widow.

Roughly ten minutes past the time he usually arrives home, Jordan finally pulls into the driveway. Turns out there was just traffic. He tried to call me, but I didn't answer. I now notice there are two missed calls from him. I am dumb. My diseased mind is now exhausted and I slip into a coma of exhaustion for the next hour. 

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Actual scenario:
I know of someone (let's call them "X") who did something once that was really despicable. X doesn't know that anyone knows they did this, but I know. X got away with said thing because not many other people do know about it. X is the kind of person who never believes they're in the wrong, but who regularly and definitively IS. In fact, X has been routinely awful to several people who are very close to me. I have never let on that X really bothers me deeply, but X really REALLY bothers me deeply. I would never actually speak up about X because it's not my place, and even if it was, it isn't really worth it.

(Are you scared X is you? Don't worry. It isn't.) 

In my head:
X steps a toe out of line and says something offensive to one of the aforementioned people I adore. Something in me snaps. I, cool as a cucumber, go to my typewriter (because in this fantasy, I have this big, beautiful office featuring a lot of wooden things and a typewriter sitting next to a pile of worn but very valuable vintage coffee table books). I type a message. I put on driving gloves. I extract the sheet of paper from the typewriter with a flourish and meticulously fold it into thirds, then seal it in an unmarked envelope. 

I write "X" on the front of that envelope. I call a teenager, who'll serve as my mule, as I myself can't be seen dropping it off. I instruct them to also wear gloves (because #fingerprints, duh), go to X's house, ensure no one is home, then leave the envelope in the mailbox. A half hour later, the teenager reports that the job is done. 

X, coming home from work to find that the flag on the mailbox is suspiciously raised, is delighted to find a letter. X opens the letter and reads the following: 

That thing you think no one knows you did? 
I know. 
And if I ever heard that you've been unkind to anyone I know, 
(and I mean anyone)
everyone else will know it, too. 

Be a better person. 

From that point forward, X's behavior is straight as an arrow, and everyone that interacts with them notices the difference. X pretends to be confused and flattered by the way everyone takes notice of the positive changes, but they secretly know why they've improved. And SO DO I. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH. 

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Actual scenario:
While driving on the Interstate, a guy in a muscle car pulls up in the next lane so that he can see into my windows. I look over and notice that he is making vulgar hand gestures at me and yelling obscenities, the G-rated gist of which is that he finds me attractive and would like to take me dinner; the actual version wouldn't even pass in a Quentin Tarantino movie. I look at him in disgust and speed up to avoid him. He continues to pull up beside me until another car blocks him out. Happily, I drive away. 

In my head: 
I call the emergency line for the Feminist Alliance of Superbadasses.

"Feminist superhotline, what is your emergency?"

"Yeah, hi! I'm looking at a guy who needs to be taught a lesson. He keeps making nasty hand gestures at me and won't leave me alone. I'm just trying to drive my car." 

"Make and model?" 

"I mean, I don't know. Ugly muscle car? It's red? I'll give you my coordinates." 

And with that, the FAoS dispatches Gloria Steinam, who's wearing a fabulous leotard and cape. She flies down and stops traffic on the interstate. She invites every woman nearby to get out of their cars and stand behind her to glare at this guy with the fire of a thousand suns. 

"Hey, jackass!" she begins. "Stop harassing this driver. What did she do to deserve that? Oh wait -- nothing. Because there's nothing ANY woman could do to deserve being the butt end of your nasty little ego. Do you think that this is appropriate behavior? Is this something you're proud of? Are you so small that you need to degrade women and make them feel uncomfortable while they're just trying to drive from point A to point B? Shame on you. You've lost driving privileges today. Hand me your keys." 

The crowd of women behind her erupts into cheers as the man exits his car, head hanging low, and tosses his keys into Steinam's hand. 

"Didn't you forget something?" she asks. 

The man looks at her blankly. 

"Don't you want to say something to Mary Catherine?" 

"Oh. Right. Sorry." 

"It's okay," I say. "Don't let it happen again." 

"Trust me," the guy replies. "I've seen the light. That's the end of that kind of behavior FOREVER." 

The women cheer and clap and shake his hand as he, a changed man, hails a cab. 

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So let this be a warning to you, parents. Encourage your child to imagine and to dream, but just know: it's possible they're going to turn out like me. 

Happy Thursday!