It's all relative, I guess.

This morning was a "chilly" morning here - only 65 degrees. Brrr! Plus, it's only supposed to get up into the 80's today, as opposed to the 90's for the previous few days. It's basically a cold front. I can still withstand intense humidity (60%? Puh-leese. My hair doesn't even react.) but I know I'm acclimating to the temperatures here, particularly the summer heat. Not that I still don't get hot and sweaty, mind you. There's really no way to avoid that if you plan to leave the house anytime between, say, April and October. But I can tolerate the heat. In fact, I like it.

Of course, I've never been much for cold. I get that, along with low blood pressure, from my mother. I dislike being cold. I love wearing a cute cardigan but sweaters and jackets make me feel bulky and constrained and uncomfortable. I get angry wearing them. Much like with collared shirts and my hair falls down into the collar and gets all weird feeling. That annoys me too. People say "I like being cold. You can always add more layers." False. There comes a point where you cannot add more layers because you cannot move. Then you look like this:

We all remember this. We made fun of this. And you're telling me you like winter better because you can dress like this. I don't think so buddy.

However, in summer you just sweat. You just have to embrace it. Be ready for it. You're going to need a hankie, blotting sheets, deodorant and maybe an extra shirt. But you get tan so really, it's worth it.

Lenten Promises

For the most part, I've kept mine. I had banana pudding on St. Patrick's Day (I gave myself a pass because a) it was a special occasion and b) I had PMS). But other than that, it's been Jello and fruit pops for this girl. And I've stayed off The Knot too. Yay me! But man, oh man, am I ready for a cookie. Or ice cream. Or cake, candy, and even the peanut butter mixed with chocolate chips my GA was eating in the office the other day. I want it. In honor of this auspicious occasion (the end of Lent), I am making something I love to eat and don't particularly enjoy making because it's messy and I want to eat all the ingredients: Krispy Kreme Donut Bread Pudding. Oh yeah. It's happening. One of my very favorite authors is Linda Howard and years ago I read a book she wrote called To Die For, featuring one of my favorite characters she's written, Blair Mallory. In it, Blair makes Krispy Kreme Donut Bread Pudding as a strings-attached gift, or as a thank you, whatever pleases her. I tried it one time and I wanted to do her bidding as well, after eating it. Now that I've talked it up, here it is... Krispy Kreme Doughnut Bread Pudding 2 dozen Krispy Kreme Doughnuts 3 eggs 1 can sweetened condensed milk Vanilla extract to taste ½ stick melted butter Cinnamon to taste (I'm allergic to cinnamon so I don't include it and it's still awesome.) Milk 1 c. chopped pecans (optional) Never used this. Nutmeg (optional) Used this Directions Use a 13x9 in. glass pan so pudding doesn't stick. Preheat oven to 350. Tear doughnuts into little chunks. Put the chunks into a large bowl. Beat the eggs. Add the can of milk and beat again. Add vanilla, butter and cinnamon and mix. Pour into the bowl with the doughnuts and stir. Add milk until it is the consistency of lumpy cake batter. Add pecans and nutmeg if desired. Pour into the pan and bake for 30 min. Check with a toothpick to see if it's done. Glaze with powdered sugar and milk icing.

Bonus feature: You can color the icing to suit your holiday. I'll probably do pastels in honor of Easter.

I'm No Stranger to the Truck...

But trucks in Texas take it to a whole new level. An inappropriate, inefficient, excessive and annoying level, if you ask me.

Now, I grew up in a relatively rural area. It's about 30 minutes to the nearest mall and it was nothing special, so we usually had to make the 45 trip to a "real" mall. It's a small town. There are fields and farms and stuff there. People had trucks, even diesel trucks. I drove a (albeit small) truck for a brief period of time after I totaled my tiny Honda my junior year. And a few times, someone would bring a tractor to school. I dated guys who drove trucks. I even dated a guy who drove a large, loud truck. But nothing on the Texas level. And by not on the Texas level, I mean some of the trucks here could run over that truck and I had to hop to get into it.

The trucks here annoy me, quite a bit. They are loud. Tall. Huge tires. They can't see pedestrians. Or small cars. Or small SUVs. You can't park them. They look ridiculous. And gas is $3.50 and up. Usually up. Who drives these things?! Who wants to? I mean, look at this:

I see these, in multiples, EVERY DAY. In different colors, with color brush guards, mud flaps, tool boxes, etc. And you know what? Most of these people are college students. Who on earth uses their brand new, expensively tricked out (yeah, I went there) truck like this on a FARM? And actual farm. Doing work. Not many of them, I'm pretty sure.

So why do their parents buy them these things? They're so loud, use so much gas, cost so much money. And my second biggest pet peeve with them: They will not park in the lines. Or park straight. My biggest pet peeve? They drive like, pardon my language, a-holes. I don't know if it's because they can't see a darn thing because they're so high up or if they maintain the same entitled persona on the road as they do in college, but they stink at driving. But they should watch out. Just because my car is smaller, quieter, has fewer stickers of dead things and gets better gas mileage doesn't mean I'll continue to get out of their way. My car's pretty safe. It's already been nailed once and I wasn't even sore from that hit.

Let's face it: I'm older and I have better insurance.

Best. Boyfriend. Ever.

Friday was Fightin' Texas Aggie Ring Day and around here, that is BIG DEAL. You can read all about Aggie Rings here. It's is a super fun tradition (minus the incredibly unclassy student lead initiative that is ring dunk, gross) and I love helping out. This time, I was scheduled to hand out rings from 6-8 p.m. Which means I was on campus 'til around 8:30 p.m. And that I was tired, and my feet, knees, back and ankles hurt and I was STARVING. But it was worth it because I do love ring day. My wonderful boyfriend decided to cook dinner for us though, so I wouldn't have to eat fast food/fall asleep in my cereal. I called him on my way back from campus and he was hard at work. Yay! He also informed me that my dog had thrown up on one of my throw pillows. Ew. I told him to chunk the pillow and I'd clean the couch when I got there, already dreading it. Don't worry about it, he says, I already cleaned the couch. Wow. Thanks, I said, a lot. Then he goes on to say that my dog smells kind of bad (ok, that's not exactly what he said, but the point is the same). "I know," I said, "I'm going to wash her tomorrow." "Oh, I already gave her a bath. I couldn't stand the smell anymore." "Well, thanks for doing that. I really appreciate it." "No problem. And I Febreezed the blankets too and hung them up to air out." At this rate, I won't have any chores to do tomorrow. My couch is clean, blankets fresh, dog washhed. What else could he have done? He made ribs. Delicious, probably bad for you, on the grill, ribs. And cowboy potatoes. You know, potatoes with onions and cheese and bacon and cheese. And some butter and a little more cheese. It was delicious. It was so good I managed to stay away through the whole meal. As if that wasn't good enough, Saturday he mowed (or really, used a weed-eater on, because my yard is so tiny) my yard, raked the yard so that less grass would get into my house, reorganized all the junk I have on the back porch, and helped me give my dog a pretty horrific haircut. Sunday he helped me sweep, mop, and do laundry. And last night, before he went home, he told me he had a great weekend and was so glad we got to spend so much time together. Swoon.

Drama Breeds Drama

Work has been like a soap opera lately. Except for the fact that most of the things that are happening are not widely recognized as dramatic or life changing events like they are on most soap operas. For some reason, most people don't think cutting all of the funding for graduate assistant tuition has the same level of drama as "my husband cheated on me and I found out but then I was in a car wreck because I was so distraught and had a head injury and so now no one knows if I remember." Which has not actually happened to me, obvii. And I try to convey the appropriate level of tragedy that this actually is for those of us involved, particularly those who decided to come to Texas A&M specifically because they were offered tuition waivers and now face difficult choices about continuing, student loans, staging a riot, etc. But I can tell from the bf's "well, that sucks?" (you know, where their voice rises on the end of the word as though they're not really sure if this is the correct response) and associated comments that he doesn't get it. Non student affairs people usually don't. It's our own little world and is currently filled with intrigue, annoyance, melodrama and a little bit of hysteria. And as the title of this post suggests, drama leads to more drama. And I don't like it. Drama on a Division level. Drama on a Department level. Drama across Departments. Drama between coworkers. And somehow I've ended up as a sounding board for a lot of it. I don't really mind. To be quite honest, the main reason I ended up in this profession was because, as a freshman, I thought the RAs must know EVERYTHING that happened in the building and I needed to know this stuff too. But now we've reached a whole new level. It seems that every day is more dramatic than the last and, I'm sorry to say, it's turned me into a bit of a drama queen. Not that I don't have my moments already but it's concerning when the drama of the work day follows you home, through P90X, through cooking dinner and suddenly, you CANNOT take the battle noises coming through the wall one.more.minute and you burst into tears. Not to mention, it kind of freaks the bf out. He handles it well though. So my charge to you is: Think before you drama. Is it really necessary to stomp down the hall, burst into someone's office and start with "you WILL NOT believe what so-and-so has done now!!!"? The answer is: No. It's not. Air it out. I know it feels better. But y'all are killing me. And you're making my boyfriend think I've gone off the deep end.