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Cozied up on my couch in an oversized wool sweater watching Christmas movies, admiring our lit up Christmas tree, enjoying a freshly made raw date square in my left hand, a cold glass of almond milk in my right, and a warm and fuzzy feeling running around inside of me...I.absolutely.LOVE.the.holidays. Despite the one too many alcoholic beverages (including peppermint patty shots whoops) and brie dip I had at Colby's Christmas party last night, I am loving life right now.

A little blurry, but here's me and Eric at the party. Adorbs, right? Especially JC in the background!

Life is full of decisions. Some simple, some tough, some big, some small. When you’re little, your parents make decisions for you. What color Oshkosh B’Gosh overalls to wear, what color converse (hot pink high-tops preferably), what vegetables to eat with dinner, and what school to attend.  Now that I’m an adult (ha – that sounds funny), life is a little more complicated and life’s decisions are left up to me: What am I going to wear today? What I am I going to eat today? Should I walk to work or take the subway? Hair straight or wavy? (If they all could be that simple…)

I am pretty indecisive so I’m not sure I like this part of life very much.

Last Wednesday, my dooms day, my doc gave me the MRI results for my hip. After two years of pain, someone finally decided that I needed one to figure out what in the hell is going on. “So based on your MRI, you have a labral tear. Blah blah blah. You have been doing all the right things but have found no relief.  blah blah blah. So it looks like the only option left is SURGERY.” Umm, what? Can you repeat that? Tears started to fall –the awkward, embarrassing, ugly ones that make you breathe all funky and look god awful, and for some reason you can’t find it in you to stop - and I blacked out everything else he said.

Oh, the dog days of summer. Hot, long, and glorious. Sunshine, cookouts, and smoothies. Beach time, boat time, and cocktail time. Summer's end is approaching, but the dog days aren't over yet. Unless Mother Nature decides to rain on our parade again. What is your problem, girlfriend?  You aren't giving much love to the dog days. An east coast earthquake. A northeastern hurricane. What’s next? Volcanoes out of the Appalachian Mountains? You’re forgiven but go easy on us, will ya? Peace and love for all, jeez. 

Speaking of dogs, in my next life, I want to come back as one. Not a care in the world, constant back scratches, unconditional love, long walks, endless cuddle sessions. Oh, and no responsibilities like prepping for a hurricane. 

This past weekend, I babysat my nephew-dog, Buck, and he reaffirmed my feelings that dogs are the luckiest beings on earth. He didn’t care that the wind was picking up, or rain started pounding harder on the windows, or that Mike Seidel was being blown sideways in the storm. All he cared about was being surrounded by reliable cuddlers, back scratchers, and an occasional game of fetch with his favorite stuffed giraffe. 

How stinkin’ cute is he?

I don’t know what it is about being home, but I always feel more like a real human living a real, normal life. Maybe it’s the fact that my room at home is a little bigger than 10x10, or my window unit air conditioner isn’t blowing in my face all night. Maybe it’s the glorious view of the beautiful bay, and not the glorious view of a big tree outside my living room window (although I seriously get excited about that in the city – you city folk can understand). Maybe it’s the 30+ family homemade dinners, made in a real kitchen, with real kitchen appliances, served on super cute platters (my Mom has about 43 of them). Whatever it is, the phrase “home sweet home” couldn’t be more accurate. Home really is, so sweet.

You know what else is sweet? These amazing Raw Almond Joy Balls I decided to make for my Dad. The last time I made my Dad a raw dessert he said, “Shugz, (that’s what he calls me – think short for “Sugar”) you know what’s so great about these?” The anticipation was killing me because I knew he’d be a tough crowd to please. He paused for about 20 seconds.  And then he so kindly said, “They make me appreciate a big delicious juicy cheeseburger.”  That was NOT the response I was hoping for! Since then, I have been determined to make him something that he loves, and something that doesn’t make him crave a cheeseburger. And guess what? I did. (He probably still craves the burger but at least he didn’t voice that)