Berry Picking

I have now gone blackberry picking three times within the last month, on my university campus. They are everywhere. Yesterday I went by myself, and I got to thinking about how many life metaphors are present, and the lessons that can be learned from something so simple as the act of picking berries. Let's see if you get what I mean.

Not too many people stop to pick blackberries. They don't realize how much fruit is growing on the bushes.

The best berries are the ones that are most often out of reach.

Just when you're feeling a little upset that all of the good berries are out of reach, you find a cluster of them within reach just down the way.

Many good berries are not obviously visible. You have to carefully look for them, and it takes a discerning eye to discover them beneath the brush. Sometimes you accidentally happen upon them.

Oftentimes when you get too greedy you end up dropping some of the berries from the hand you're reaching with.

You should only take the berries that come off easily, otherwise they're not ripe enough. They'll probably be ready in a few days.

When you're doing something unusual (picking berries on a university campus), people will be curious and ask what it is you're doing. Then you get to tell them you're picking berries, and perhaps why.

Getting scratched by thorns is unavoidable. You may even bleed. The upside is that now your bowl is full of berries. It was worth it.

22 {random} Thoughts For 22 Years

I just turned 22. I have random thoughts. Sometimes they come in the middle of a conversation. I apologize to those of you who have experienced that. Here are a few I came up with today.

You can never have too many polka dots. They are pure joy.

"It's just a walk, Erica, not a marriage proposal." Jack Nicholson as Harry in Something's Gotta Give speaks truth. You should probably always say this to yourself before a date with a new guy. You need to calm down. I need to calm down.

Usually when I don't find something at Nordstrom, or I can't afford it at the present time, I buy myself $10 earrings. It helps. You should try it.

When it's windy, by all means stand outside with your arms open to the steady stream blowing your face and hair. It isn't Titanic in the least, I swear.

Yeah...mom, she's always right.

Smelling the coffee beans in the glass votives instead of perfume is totally normal.

Smiling at people is fun. So is small talk with your barista, cashier, or waiter. I always feel better when I do this.

Lipstick and blush. Lipstick and blush. Keep repeating that to yourself.

Family is forever, and therefore they always come first.

Don't let people give you advice on what to do with your hair. They are wrong, and you probably look better with long hair.

Who invented women's deodorant? Toss that sad excuse of an antiperspirant for the ever-so-handsome scented Old Spice (preferably Swagger). Trust me on this one.

97.5% of the time frosting is better than cake. Don't waste calories on cruddy cake when you can have more frosting!

You can be 5 foot 9.5 inches tall and wear 4 inch colorblocked platform heels. Why should short people have all the fun?

Kathleen Kelly is my hero. Every time I need comfort I just pop You've Got Mail into the DVD player.

Don't show up to things early. Since when has that ever been cool? Yep, never.

It has been tested that making your bed in the morning makes you happier as you go about the rest of your day. Do it!

Will the average death age for both genders significantly decrease for my generation because of YOLO?

Find "your place". Go there and just sit. Not all the time, just when you need it most. You don't have to tell anyone where it is either. That's the fun in it.

When I die, will I actually care enough to ask God about some of life's greatest mysteries? What happened to Amelia Earhart? Are dogs really colorblind? Do dolls talk and move when you shut the bedroom door?

Baking is therapeutic. All those exact measurements and then choosing to throw in an extra 1/4 cup of chocolate chips is healing to the type-A soul in more ways than one. It's also a good idea to pawn off your goods to your family (for reasons of personal health).

Harry Potter Weekends on ABC Family are the greatest thing to happen to TV.

Wake up at a decent time (you should probably go to bed at a decent time to achieve this). Waste not thy hour. Carpe diem. And all that jazz.

...and that is a snippet of how my brain works.

Red, White & Blue: Better Together

I'm starting something new; a series called Better Together. (**I'm random. We'll see if I actually post on a specific day or not, so tune in!) I got the idea from the British business associate of my friend's father. Unfortunately his campaign for "better together" did not take off like he had hoped. Nonetheless, I fell in love with the idea. It's simple, and rather charming. Behind this idea is the basic truth that things take on more unique characteristics when juxtaposed with, or complementing one other. You know, like peanut butter and jelly, or Bert and Ernie. Good when solo; fantastic when paired. 

Red, white and blue. So many things come to mind. For me it's the stars and stripes of Old Glory and the Union Jack. Quite fitting, I'd say. With patriotism having stricken the hearts of fellow citizens as we cheered on our Olympians competing in London, a nod to the tri-colors and wonderful things that have come to represent Great Britain seems necessary to me. Cheers!

She's Cookin' & Good Lookin'

Question. What is it about weddings that makes the most unlikely male candidates think they have a shot with ladies of prime real estate? Mind you, the wedding was dry, so alcohol was not the culprit in bringing forth these lofty notions. And although slacks, a button up shirt, and tie admittedly from the female perspective make any man more handsome, the majority of us (hopefully) are not about to have the wool pulled over our eyes and swoon over anyone who shows interest in us (no matter how flattered we feel deep down). 

Mom & me at my cousin's wedding

Now.....onto another quality besides blatant physical attraction that reels in the opposite sex. They've been saying it since probably the beginning of time: the way to a man's heart is though his stomach. Not gonna lie, I firmly believe there is a surefire way to impress a boy. Baking. Have you ever heard of a boy turning down a chocolate chip cookie? No. A brownie (even if it came from a box!)? Doubt it! And those are only the base level goodies. I mean, good grief, I had a boy ask me to make him an entire pie recently, and stated his preferences! That was a just bit presumptuous on his part, and needless to say, he did not last long. (Sidenote: more on how to impress a boy with baking can be found in the wit and genius of Joy the Baker.) Some guys are getting a little too picky if you ask me. My brother turned down my double chocolate zucchini bread, which is more moist and chocolately divine than should be legal. Imagine Brucey in Matilda turning down that tri-layer chocolate cake. I know, right? It just doesn't happen!

"You can do it Brucey!" C'mon, I know you're chanting his name in your head right now. It's only natural.

Even though the focus of my words thus far have been regarding boys, I have to admit something to you. I have no boy I am attempting to satiate the appetite of. I'm not even trying to lure one in. All I care about is satisfying my own palette, and recently on my days off from work I've been doing it on my parents' dime. Don't worry. This isn't unethical, and I'm not cheating anyone out of any hard-earned wages or anything. My family has been getting nutritious, home-cooked meals, and to the satisfaction of my mother, she doesn't have to lift a finger. Meanwhile, I get (strange) pleasure out of boiling water, chopping up garlic, herbs, and vegetables, and hearing the sizzle on a hot pan. It's therapeutic. Whatever works! Aside from what lies below, I swear my life doesn't revolve purely around grains and pastas. This was merely a (delicious) coincidence!

Sometimes there is cheating, like these MorningStar chipotle black bean burgers topped with roasted red bell peppers, and a side of corn on the cob.

Other times the single most important rule of college cooking is put into place: take everything you've got, throw it together in a bowl, add some spices, and voila! you have dinner (and lunch for two days). Here, I combined couscous, pan-cooked chicken breast, zucchini, spinach, black olives, sundried tomatoes, peas, and oregano, and lightly dressed it with a red wine vinaigrette.

A lot of times I like to eat vegetables. They make me feel good. I also like to feed them to my family by making healthy alternatives to old heavy classics, like the stuffed bell pepper. These couscous, veggie and feta stuffed bell peppers are fantastic.

At any time, I can count on pleasing my family, particularly my mom, with this Mediterranean salad. Every time my mom or I think or speak of olives, which is more frequent than you might imagine, we quote Sense and Sensibility's Mrs. Jennings, who trying to console the heartbroken and sobbing Marianne asks Elinor, "Does she care for olives?" So besides this having kalamata olives in it, which in itself should make any person want to dive right in, this is the perfect light, summer salad. It's fresh and flavorful, and stirs up mental images of the glittering turquoise waters of Greece. 

And for something I could eat all the time, (but choose not to for reasons of fearing putting a hole in my wallet) pad Thai. Except this pad Thai isn't overly salty, doesn't have any trace of suspicious orange oil lurking at the bottom of the styrofoam takeout box, doesn't gift me with a giant mass sitting in my stomach after consuming, tastes very fresh, and is incredibly inexpensive to make. I hope you got all that! This is life-changing stuff! Try it, and I promise you'll feel accomplished in your culinary endeavors. Finding oyster sauce in your hair hours after cooking means you worked hard. I can personally attest to that.

Keep calm, mince garlic with your bare and now garlicky-scented hands, eat slowly the fruits of your labor, let Dad do the cleanup, take an evening walk for both digestion and the view, and then plop yourself down on the couch for the rest of the night for some terribly-narrated Olympic competition viewing. Maybe pop a handful of blueberries picked from the yard to soften the blow of teenage dreams being crushed by the high beam and uneven bars (...and on an international viewing level too...ouch).