TRUE DAT, DOUBLE TRUE

I've been bored at work this week. Not bored, as in I have nothing to do, but bored as in I would rather be anywhere else. Christmas-break-itis? Probably.

In the wake of my boredom, I started playing around with customized Google Maps. Samberg was right, Google Maps are the best. I've come up with my first cut at a hiking loop that I really enjoy up in the southwest Smokey Mountains. The high point of the trip is sitting on top of Gregory Bald and being able to see for miles around. The loop is about ~20 miles and can easily be done in two nights. Google Maps allowed me to put custom markers on the map (with details on each), but unfortunately, I wasn't able to trace the exact trail. You probably can and I just haven't figured it out. So, for your enjoyment:

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I BLAME MARTHA. AND MYSELF.

I am having a problem with something. This is a problem I experience all throughout the year, but Christmastime seems to exaggerate it. I'm not sure how to sum it up. It's something like: Secretly-on-the-inside-I-want-to-be-Martha-Stewart-but-I'm-not-very-
good-at-it-and-I-think-it-would-be-fun-if-I-was-but-instead-I'm-
frustrated-because-I'm-not.

I expressed this problem out loud to a friend today, whom I love dearly and whose honesty I treasure, but her response was that I was making her skin crawl. I tried taking the issue to another brutally honest friend, who said I was being whiny and even mimicked me mockingly. So. I am not up for negative responses at the moment. If you can't relate or think I'm ridiculous, etc., please keep that opinion to yourself.

To expand on my problem, I'll offer some examples. In my head, I think the idea of throwing parties, having people over for dinner, and the like, sounds fun and hospitable and relationship-building. At Christmas, add to that things like sending Christmas cards, putting up extra decorations inside and out, attending festive activities, baking cookies and sharing them with others, buying thoughtful gifts, etc. All pleasant, pretty, interpersonal.

But then my selfish, obsessive nature takes over and turns it all into two things: 1) a way to assert how together and stylish and well-rounded and successful I am, and 2) a self-defeating discovery that I am not together and I do not have enough fashion sense or money to be all that stylish and I fail at many things all the time -- especially those things I put pressure on myself to do because they seem so good and feminine and fun -- and that other people, who don't seem to be trying at all and don't seem to wrestle with these demons, are really good at succeeding in these areas.

I want to enjoy all that the Christmas season has to offer. I want to make the most of every holiday. I want to have a comfortable, attractive home and welcome people into it. I want to keep loved ones updated on our life with the hope that they will keep me updated on theirs. I don't want to be smug or competitive or self-centered or jealous or discontent or insincere...

Philip always tells me I think too hard about things. That may be true. But I don't know how to turn my mind off. My friend says I should just not be competitive. Just stop it. Stop comparing. Stop piling expectations on myself and everyone and everything around me. Just don't send out a Christmas letter because people who read it are bound to make fun of it and be annoyed by it and poke holes in it, no matter how good my intentions may have been, and they probably weren't that pure anyway, and it'll be one less thing to think about during a crazy time of year. Well, your letter is on the way this year, people, for better or for worse.

I don't know what to do about these feelings, and throwing it out into cyberspace seemed a little safer than talking to a human being about it, as I was quickly invalidated when I tried to do that. (And my obsessive, over-analytical mind thinks, "Was that what I needed? A kick in the pants? Because maybe that was a message from God to just Get Over Myself. But I still feel bad, and actually a little worse than before I said anything. And all I want is to feel some peace.")

The end.

P.S. I really don't have anything against Martha Stewart. I think she genuinely enjoys renovating old houses and coming up with creative interior-design ideas and crafts and gardening and so forth. She just found a way to make a profit off of what she already loves doing, so good for her. She probably didn't set out to make me and whoever else feel insecure. It's OK, Martha, I'm not mad.

THE KITCHEN AND ME

Thanks to my sister-in-law’s prompting, I actually baked this weekend. We made zucchini bread, and I made peanut-butter-kiss cookies and peppermint bark (I did everything but smash the peppermints with a hammer, which I enlisted Philip's help with). I wanted to take a picture and frame it when I was done, because not only is it rare to find me voluntarily in the kitchen, but it’s also a major deal when I actually succeed in what I set out to do with cooking utensils in hand.

Now, you should know that I also destroyed a perfectly promising batch of sugar cookies by mistakenly adding too much salt and neglecting to add enough sugar. So maybe in my subconscious I was trying to make salt cookies. Don’t laugh; that could be the next big thing.

At any rate, my relationship with the stove is love-hate, mostly hate. I catch things on fire, I explode glass dishes, I burn the bottom and smush the top, etc. Cooking is supposedly straightforward — you just follow the directions — yet I constantly encounter problems. Steps that are too vague — “add salt to taste” — huh? Tools that I can’t control, like the mixer, which sends sugary chunks all over the room. Tools I don't have, like a blender; hence the hammer for the peppermints. Basic common sense that I lack, like, don’t put metal in the microwave or paper in the oven.

But something compels me to keep trying, and I’m not sure if it’s my admirable inner drive to conquer the dragon against all odds, or if it’s just leftover domestic guilt that I’m a woman and therefore I should be able to do this dammit.

It does feel really good though when I actually create something not only edible, but yummy too. Which after a little bit of trial and error yesterday, I did. So yay!

A LITTLE PAINTING ADVICE FROM THE FRONT LINES

So we're embarking on painting our interior walls, and I guess we weren't prepared for the endurance challenge it's turning out to be. Everyone always talks about painting as an easy, relatively cheap way to transform a room, but we're finding painting to be neither easy nor cheap. We're both newbies, so we're trying to give ourselves some grace and keep our spirits up as we seem to learn everything the hard way. We're finally starting to get the hang of this gig, so I thought I'd pass along a few practical tips we've picked up. You probably know all of this, but somehow we didn't, so maybe this will be beneficial to someone out there who knows as little about painting as we did and could use a few pointers.

1. The ColorSmart tool on Behr's website is kind of fun to play around with but is marginally useful, and the "Paint Your Place" option for viewing selected colors using your own digital photos doesn't work at all. Don't waste your $5 on it (like we did). However, if you happen to stop into Home Depot, do pick up Behr's brochure on basic painting how-tos. It walks you through the basics and provides a list of supplies you'll need. This was helpful.

2. Paint on a chip looks different from paint in a can looks different from wet paint on a wall looks different from dry paint on a wall. In order to get a good feel for how a certain color will look in a room, you have to paint at least a 2-foot by 2-foot square on the wall, let it dry, and look at it in different lights and times of day.

3. This can get really expensive if you're buying whole quart cans, which are generally the smallest size you can buy and start at around $12 each. But there is a solution! Lowes sells sample sizes in the store for $4 each! Hooray!

4. Lowes paint isn't very good quality. We heard this and then proved it with a worthless 2-gallon bucket of primer that worked like crap. Since then, we've been buying all our primer, wall paint, and trim paint at a little mom-and-pop paint shop called All Florida Paint at Mills and Orange. The service there is awesome. There aren't ever any lines, the employees give good advice and even carry your purchases out to your car for you (they maybe only do this for girls), and the products are quality. They know me in there now. We're paying a bit more for these perks, but it's worth it, and they can even match Lowes' hues like nobody's business.

5. Taping off the trim is handy, but paint still tends to leak under the tape. You can do two things to help minimize this. The first is to use the good tape. Don't be cheap and buy the Shurtape brand or worse, regular old masking tape. Get Scotch brand blue painting tape, and even go a step further and get the "delicate surfaces" kind. Again, you'll pay a bit more, but you'll thank yourself when you're not having to go back and touch up all your trim. (More tape tips here.) The second is to use as little paint around the edges as possible. If you glop it on real thick, it's more likely to render your tape useless. Try to go really light with it. Using a smaller brush helps. It's also a good idea to re-tape in between coats, if you have the patience.

6. Paint on a finished wood surface won't stick and will peel off and chip badly. In order to paint a varnished surface effectively, you must first remove said varnish. Apparently the previous owners of our house didn't realize this. Now we are learning all about paint stripper and its accompanying safety gear.

7. Paint stripper is scary stuff indeed, but it is your friend. Wear chemical-resistant gloves, closed-toed shoes, long sleeves, pants, and a protective mask over your nose and mouth, and ventilate the area well. The label says this, and it's good advice. While this may sound intimidating, it takes that junk right off - varnish and all.