Have they made hovercrafts yet?

I’m not a fancy gal, nor do I try to be. I buy pants at Walmart and happily welcome when my hands turn blue from touching them to get the oh-so-appealing price of $10. I don’t buy new bras until the wires are stabbing me and I’m just about due for a tetanus booster. I don’t poor my beers into the glass they give you at restaurants on a first date. Okay, so maybe I’m a little less “not fancy” and a little more “cheap”, but either way, these two descriptors converge when it comes to cars.

Materialism is something that I just don’t have time for. I’d rather get to know someone for who they are than what they look like. The Lady in Red, my 1997 ford escort (pictured below) is sheer perfection by standards of that statement. Everything about this car screamed “impound lot”, but having had another escort as my first car, leaped at the chance to take this sweet girl home. Rusty? Yes. Fluorescent? You betcha. Not suitable for people with long legs and/or who are over the height of 5’ 6’’? Absolutely. But a cheap, savvy vehicle that I never lost in a parking garage or had more fun in made it all worth it.  We spent almost three beautifully expensive, yet hilarious years together before some lameo floored it into me at a stop sign. Boom. Totaled.

So it’s goodbye to my Lady in Red and hello to whatever hunk of metal I man up and purchase. I entertained the idea of this sports-y car and I felt like a toddler sitting in a milk crate while I was driving it.  By antithesis, I tested the modern- tomboy-soccer-mom van/SUV that was the equivalent of driving a 15 passenger van. I actually think my voice echoed when I told my dad that it drove nicely. It seemed a little excessive and I seemed to be about 3 business suits, 4 kids and a white collar husband shy of being an appropriate owner of it. About two weeks later, I found who I shall here forward refer to as “White mocha”. A Passat I found in town that has an incredible price, especially with the insurance money The Lady in Red afforded me. Even better, this thing is extremely reliable but with high mileage on it, adding an element of possible danger that I think I find endearing about cars. I’m naming it White Mocha, because just like me, at first glance you know I’m white, but you can probably tell I have a bit of flavor in there somewhere (KIDDING). White Mocha is probably white, but also very possibly tan. I think we will get along great.

Some added bonuses about White Mocha that The Lady in Red fell short on:

-The color, though I will get to play the insanity inducing yet delightful game of “where the hell did I park in this massive parking garage”, I can now go unnoticed if I want to because White Mocha won’t literally glow in the dark

-Electrical windows. I won’t have to add an extra element of danger and stretch across my car to crank the window up or down while still stepping on the break. On a related note, I won’t have to have a passenger roll down the window and push on the mirror to adjust it.

-I won’t risk getting clipped by new-to-driving youths in parking lots because White Mocha is proportionally wide and long. Not a pontoon boat.

Maybe I am getting fancier in my age. Nah, who am I kidding. I give it two months before I find some tacky quality in the car and run with it, or get it painted bright red.

The moral of the story, kids is to go by feel rather than style. Just because it looks cool, doesn’t mean you won’t have to frantically search parking garages, risk getting into the wrong, unlocked car, or have to hoist your six-foot tall friend out of the car after going to Wendy’s. If you immediately buy the world’s tackiest car based on how you like driving in it, the memories will create themselves and your friends won’t think you’re a douche for having a super nice car.

The Lady and I headed back to school just before graduation

Sun-dried Tomato Basil Artisan Bread

This bread.... is too good for words. I am currently in the process of a slew of surgeries, so while I'm taking it easy, I'm subjecting my family to a wealth of new recipes and building myself an arsenal. I got this recipe from an Artisan bread cook book and used the base recipe and technique to add in delicious little gems, but decided that tomato basil was what I wanted to make. And oh my lanta was I right. I'm not a big bread eater, and neither is my mom, but we ate half a loaf before it cooled. It crunchy on the outside and really soft and tender on the inside and just about as good as anything you could get in a bakery without the cost. I think I have my new go-to recipe to keep experimenting on. I suggest you do the same!

Recipe:

1 ½ cups of lukewarm water (just slightly warmer than body temperature)

1 packet of active dry yeast

¾ tablespoon of coarse salt (I used sea salt) (I also just did ½ tbs plus a little for the measurement)

3 ¼ cups of all-purpose flour

Cornmeal for the pizza stone

A palm-full of dried basil

10 sundried tomatoes packed in oil, diced finely

Makes: two small loaves

Tools you will need:

1 larger sized bowl

1 medium sized bowl

A fork

A wooden spoon

Plenty of extra flour

Plastic wrap

A pizza stone

Something to rest the dough on before going in the oven (I used a cookie sheet without edges)

How to:

1. To make the base dough, pour the lukewarm water into the larger of the two bowls along with the yeast and salt. Mix it until the yeast is incorporated

2. Add all of the flour in at once and use the wooden spoon to mix it until it just comes together

3. Sprinkle generous amounts of flour on a work surface to turn the dough out on to make one cohesive lump.

4. Put the dough into the medium sized bowl and loosely cover it with plastic wrap and let it rise for two hours

AT THIS POINT you can refrigerate the dough to make it easier to work with, or just to have to use later. To store, put the dough in a plastic container with a lid and also enough room to account for some rising action.

IF YOU LIKE INSTANT GRATIFICATION….

5. Generously flour your work surface again and turn out the risen dough and make it into one uniformly shaped lump. (I tend to need to coat my hands in flour for this process)

6. Split the lump into two equal pieces and set one to the side. Spread the dough onto the floured work surface so it is relatively square and flat. Sprinkle the diced sundried tomatoes and dried basil over the dough and mush it back together into a circular loaf.  if you decide to leave the dough plain, reshape it into a circular loaf, and place both on a floured cookie sheet without a lip.

7. Allow the dough to rest a final time for about 40 minutes

8. 20 minutes before you bake the bread, put your pizza stone in the oven, sprinkle it with cornmeal and allow it to preheat to 450 degrees for those 20 minutes.

9. Brush the tops of the dough with water (if leaving it plain) or oil (I used the oil that the tomatoes were packed in) and score the tops with a knife.

10. When you’re ready to bake, slide the dough off the cookie sheet, and onto the stone.

11. Bake for 25 minutes

12. Wait five minutes (if you can stand it) before slicing the bread.

13. Try not to drown in your own saliva. It’s that good.

Sorted Food's Roasted Broccoli Salad

Recipe From: Sorted Food http://sortedfood.com/#!/roastedbroccolisalad/

I saw this recipe in the SortedFood’s video showing you how to cook broccoli three different ways and I literally tried it the next day. I liked this salad right off the bat because it reminded me of this addictive salad my aunt has been employed to bring to every family function since the dawn of time. Her salad is served cold, like a chunky cole slaw, and has a lot of naughty additions like bacon and hunks of cheese. I’ve tried to make my aunt’s version at home with turkey bacon, but it wasn’t so great, so this caught my eye immediately. This one, served hot and a little lighter on the dressing is a super delicious twist, and even a little healthier.

For anyone who knows me, my two favorite foods are roasted sweet potatoes and broccoli. Add in an onion and some garlic and I am sold. In the spirit of additions, I decided to add broccolini, and instead of using pine nuts, and what I assumed to be raisin, I used sunflower seeds and dried cranberries. And for the dressing, instead of sour cream, I only had plain greek yogurt on hand, so I used that. These substitutions were just ones that I liked, and I am going to go ahead and conjecture that any vegetable addition or swap you can think of will be just as delicious. The only thing I would caution is if the vegetables take longer to cook, you may consider par cooking them first- like you do with the sweet potatoes.  I also think that this salad can be delicious without the dressing- and also made even lighter with the addition of different spices that you enjoy.

Here is the recipe:

ROASTED BROCCOLI SALAD

Ingredients:

1 red onion

1 clove of garlic

1 head of broccoli

1 medium sweet potato

a handful of pine nuts (I used sunflower seeds)

a handful of sultanas (I used dried cranberries)

Olive oil to coat the vegetables

4 tbsp of sour cream (I used plain greek yogurt)

splash of milk

few sprigs of fresh tarragon

1 tsp of Dijon mustard

½ a tsp of celery salt

Directions:

-preheat an oven to 180ºC and bring a pan of salted water to the boil.  (Since I go by Fahrenheit, it translated to 350 degrees, but I found that this wasn’t quite hot enough to roast in the time frame, so I did my usual 425 degree Fahrenheit and it was perfect)

-peel and dice the sweet potato into small cubes (1cm x 1cm).

-blanch the sweet potato in the water for 2-3 minutes just to start the cooking process and soften them, then drain.

-trim the broccoli into small florets, then peel and slice the onion and garlic.

-throw the onion, garlic, broccoli, potato, pine nuts and sultanas into a non-stick roasting tin and toss with the oil.

-season well and splash over a small glass of water.

-bake it in the oven for 20 minutes.

-whisk together the sour cream, mustard, celery salt and chopped tarragon.

-splash in just enough milk to give you a consistency that is good for drizzling.

-remove the baking tray from the oven, transfer the contents to a salad bowl and serve immediately with the dressing.

My favorite part of this recipe overall was the tarragon. I had never used it before and I went for it really confidently and it worked out really well!

I hope you have the same experience I did and happy cooking!

What a difference a year makes

Two days ago I turned 22. Nothing really profound about being 22 yet, and even though I’m still a kid, so much has changed in between 21 and 22.

1. I got healthy. I don’t quite yet belong on TLC’s Freaky Eaters for being outrageously picky, but I have transformed the way I cook, consume, and feel about food. More than that… I exercise regularly now.

2. I became a runner. Words cannot tell you how just beginning to run and set goals around running has changed me. Sure there are physical benefits, but the mental journey it has taken me on has been unbelievable.

3. I am more confident and care less about the superficial things that had been subconsciously the root of a lot of unhappiness in my life.

4. My overall disposition and how I carry myself is overwhelmingly more positive than it was before.

This all has a point, I promise.

Up until now my excuse for a blog has been very....muddled. After thinking about what I enjoyed learning and writing about, I have concluded that blogging about living a mentally and physically healthy life is just that. I’m not claiming to be an expert, because I certainly am not, but it can be a way to share with and learn from others. 

Things I would tell my 18 year old self.

I am graduating college in less than two weeks, and even though I'm only 21, a lot happens from 18-21. I am a totally different person in just 3 and a half years and desperately wish I had gotten a pep talk from someone as badass as my future self. So, here are 20 things I wish I had internalized upon beginning my freshman year of college.

Hey gal, you’re starting college soon. I’m about to finish it… suck on that. Just kidding.

1. You’re probably really excited to watch as the whole world opens up to you. Don’t think it won’t though, because whether you want it to or not, it’ll be wide open. Don’t mess that up.

2. Don’t retreat into your shell when things get uncomfortable. Don’t search for your safety blanket because when it’s gone, what will you do?

3. Experience life. Say yes to more things and think about yourself.

4. Don’t expect people to give more than you do because no one wants to look desperate.

5. Just be you, and don’t be sorry about who you are.

6. Open your mind and life to things other than your homework.

7. College isn’t as hard as you’re going to tell yourself it will be.

8. It’s okay to skip class sometimes, but not all the time. Classes cost money and you’re wasting it by skipping and failing.

9. It’s okay to ask for help and still rely on your parents.

10. Call your mom, she’ll love it.

11.  If you get sick, go to the doctor. Being a broke college student doesn’t mean you can’t take care of your body.

12. The freshman 15 is only there if you’re careless.

13. Exercise regularly, you’ll be glad you did.

14. Don’t listen to girls who dress like they’re going to the club or look like they are about to run a marathon every day. They’re probably really catty and have a sense that they are better than you. They aren’t better than you. But you also aren’t better than them.You just have a better sense of appropriate dresswear.

15. Comparing yourself to other people and letting thoughts of competition into your head will drive you mad, so shut that shit down.

16. If you have to look in the mirror when you’ve been drinking and tell yourself to “pull it together” either switch to water, drink some Gatorade or go to sleep. Do not drink more.

17. Take care of belligerent people at a party even if you don’t like them. It’s the moral thing to do. Also, karma suggests that someone will take care of you if you drink too much. But if you look in the mirror and tell yourself to get it together and drink more… no sympathy.

18. You’re only as miserable as you make yourself, so don’t be miserable. Don’t be lazy. Be happy and productive.

19. Take more pictures. You can always delete the bad ones later, but you can’t make them appear if you didn’t take them.

20. Be genuine. No one likes fake bitches. 

Post- op day 15!

I made it! And just in time to allow my parents to go on vacation and not worry! It's been a long two weeks. The last time I wrote was after my first night home from the hospital. Since then, probably 85% of the swelling has gone down and I am off my liquid only diet. I'll post pictures below of my progress since I have been eager to see when the most dramatic change happened. When I got home from the hospital last Monday, I genuinely felt like I was nursing the world's cruelest, most perpetual hangover. Blinding pain, extreme nausea and throwing up, totally out of it, and plain miserable. There was little change from Monday to Tuesday to Wednesday since I couldn't eat anything. The narcotics they gave me trigger a brain response in your thalamus to make you overwhelmingly nauseated at the sight, smell and taste of things. I'm  not really a throw-up kind of gal, but I quickly became one. The types of things my stomach could stand one minute, became a nightmare the next. The absolute worst was all the liquid medicine I had to take since my mouth was unable to open. I didn't keep careful track, but I lost about 8lbs the first week.
However, that changed when I had my first post-op visit with my surgeon a week later and got my stitches out (An anticipated traumatic experience based on my childhood). I was ready for a bloodbath. The surgical residents in the hospital, as previously mentioned, weren't the peachiest of peaches, but the one that always took my molds and did the consulting was super nice. He took the 4 stitches I had on my jawline out, since they had to go through my cheek to access the site they wanted to cut and screw back together. The best part about him taking them out, was that he did it without touching my skin. He literally snipped and pulled them without manhandling my face like a doll. The sensation was cringe-worthy but he moved so quickly I didn't have time to mull it over. Well done, sir.
The best part came when they took x-rays of my face and showed me where they placed all the plates and screws. My mom was fascinated and revolted at the same time and I was just way too hungry to listen intently. I have two plates, each anchored by 4 screws on either side of my nose and 3 screws on each side of my face in the middle of my jaw line.

I was kept on liquids for another week, but since my nutrition was so poor, he told me if I don't have to chew it and it doesn't make me sick I can eat it. Cue brownie batter and McDonald's soft serve. I took myself off the narcotics since I didn't have pain fluctuations when I took tylenol instead so I figured it would help the nausea. And let me tell you, it made the world of difference.
Suddenly, I could eat and not want to die shortly afterward. I didn't gag (as much) when I choked down orange flavored baby tylenol. And after a day or so, I felt like one thousand bucks (not quite a million yet). I started catching up on my school work and even started going back to school the following Tuesday. I went to 3 days of school and didn't need a nap! Better yet, the swelling is down to a point where I just look a little odd, or that I was previously really heavy and lost weight everywhere but my face. Luckily, I'm pretty unknown on campus, so no one even noticed unless I was friends with them.
At my second post-op appointment this week, my bite continued to be perfect as all of my teeth touch at the same time now, a sensation I haven't experienced in over 2 years. More than that, I was officially taken off the liquid diet and moved to soft, mushy semi-liquid foods for the next 4 weeks. My dreams of eating a sandwich and being able to run again are in sight. My surgeon says I am recovering very well and faster than he expected. My mom and I were talking yesterday and she pointed out that literally two weeks ago, I had a major, 6-7 hour surgery and it was just like I got a tooth pulled. It doesn't feel like I had a huge surgery two weeks ago, because I genuinely got so bored sitting around all day waiting to get better that I decided to get a move on with my life. I want to get exercising again so that I can make it to the half marathon in May and start pushing myself back into the thick of my last semester as an undergrad. I have too many things I want to do as a healthy person right now that sitting and feeling sorry for myself that my face was peeled apart isn't something I have time for or am interested in doing. I am healthier than I have been in my whole life right now, even with limitations on my body. I haven't had to take my inhaler since my surgery, and that was something I had to do religiously 3 times a day. As I am typing this, my mouth is closed and I am breathing through my nose fully. And lastly, something I had wished for since it was brought to my attention when I was probably 8 and constantly prevented me from approaching new people confidently is gone. The nasal quality of my voice, making me sound like I have a perpetual cold is gone. I have a neutralized, standard voice that will not compel people to tell me how weird my voice is or how different I sound. The lady at the speech clinic where I'm trying to build experience to access a career later no longer has the finger to point at me suggesting speech therapy since my voice is no longer abnormal. It was an unexpected gift of the surgery and something that has really taken the edge off of meeting new people and seeing where my future can take me. Two weeks ago, if you asked me if I am glad I got this surgery, I would have said hell no. My mom told me that the first words I said to her in the recovery room where "why did I do this to myself?". If you ask me right now, my answer is 100% yes, I am so happy I went through this surgery. If you ask me again when I can start eating without excruciating pain, and running without feeling like my heart could explode my answer will most likely be 200% yes. My quality of life, in a matter of 7 hours is 180 degrees different in ways that I never even considered it could improve. I still have a ways to go fixing the gaps in my bite because everything got moved around, but that's just braces. I did that for 3 years so 3 months won't kill me.
I have decided with my newly renewed lease on life, I want to take the energy and the health I got back and turn it into something good. I have decided to sign up to be a runner to raise money for the Dana-Farber Institute. I'll probably write about that in the next week or so when I figure out the route I am going to take, but all I know right now is that it's going to happen and I'm going to help change lives and change my own too.

 This picture above is roughly 3 hours post op, the swelling hidden by the ice packs, nose drip catcher and oxygen mask. It probably doubled by the next day.

This is I think the day or so after surgery when the swelling just took off like a rocket and I essentially was miserable. 

This is from 4 or 5 days post-op 

This is one week post op

And this was me on my first day back to school to kill it as a second semester senior undergrad! Even since then, my swelling has decreased a lot

Post- Op day 4

I would have blogged my day to day stay in the hospital. But it was a largely negative experience so I will just give the highlights and talk about going home.

This surgery was rough. I was brought in to pre op in a group (likened to prison) where I was separated from my mom. I was not happy and neither was she. I’ve been so used to getting surgeries done at Children’s Hospital, where they bend over backwards to accommodate you and here, it was like you were just a nuisance to have. I get to my bed, still verging on panicking and then a nurse comes over and probably tried to make it better and empower me, but just made me feel like I was a baby. She was basically telling me that since I’m an adult, you can’t have your mom there for you all the time and you just need to man up and do things on your own because if you don’t succeeding won’t happen. Awesome. Thank you, perfect stranger for shitting on my life while jabbing me with the largest needle In the world  (no joke everyone was stunned at the size of it ). When they wheeled me away, they promised I’d be sedated, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t even that out of it. I was totally aware and totally freaking out. I panicked and made them stop because I was having a really hard time wrapping my brain around what was happening. Luckily, after like 5 minutes of protest they let me take a break. Then I was out. I woke up to another delight of a woman who once again treated me like I was incarcerated and was a useless piece of flesh. Getting in my face and telling me not to cry is a GUARANTEED way for the opposite to happen. She wouldn’t let me eat ice or see my mom and I desperately wanted both. I had to beg relentlessly just to get my mom. Once I got out of recovery, things turned around a little.

I had twoish nurses the whole 3 nights and 4 days I was there and they were named Pat and Joe. Pat rocks. She was so nice and so helpful and so relaxing that she made me so comfortable and set me at ease. Joe, though a little more tough was also very helpful. He helped explain to the residents how claustrophobic and anxious I was and got them to approach with caution and be careful. He did everything he could to make sure I was okay. That’s how you participate successfully in the medical field, pre op ladies.

When the residents did their rounds, it was like a scene straight from Grey’s Anatomy in the respects that they are all blood-thirsty. Each one of them wanted the better patients, the more experience and the more OR time. It was like they were in a constant duel to up the next resident, at my expense of course. Aside from one resident (Hi Dr. Mike!) they were inhumane. After I’d tell them something hurt and try to get them to stop forcing my jaw shut passed swollen tissue, they’d keep forcing until I’d panic. They also came in groups and all came at me at once. Things near my face unsettle me as is, but things near my face that are harmful and scary are even worse. My favorite was when both my mom and Joe gave them the “get it the hell together” talk. It worked for like one round. My least favorite resident was one with no compassion, but so much idiocy. Not only did he try to force my jaw shut, but when I began to cry and push his hand away, he KEPT GOING. Then he started talking to me like I was an idiot who was brain dead. My favorite line he used was “you do need to get up and walk… your legs still work so you don’t have an excuse to be lazy”. SHUT UP! I didn’t know that jaw surgery didn’t affect your legs! Fun fact, asswipe, I had been walking all day and started walking asap My favorite thing that could not have gone worse if it tried was when one resident decided to take my stitches dressings off and started pawing at my swollen and sore face like a cat chasing a string. Then he moved to the tactic where he used his thumb the way a really old aunt would scrape food off your face. No success. So he started to pinch my face and though my eyes watered and I was in a personal hell, It worked. Dr. Mike was nice though; he never slept but was so kind and really listened to me and my mom about how to approach an anxiety ridden mess. Props, man.

Lastly, my two friends and dad and sister came to visit me and it was such a boost. Even though the last thing I want is for someone to see me with the face I have right now, it was so refreshing to have encouragement from people that I know love me just as much as I love them.

I had to stay an extra night because I was so sleep deprived and nauseated that I couldn’t consume any calories for like 3 days. But I’m home now and just as miserable, BUT I’m on the mend. I have tons of movies and medicine to keep my occupied until I have to go back to crush my last semester of college.

I’m getting my cheek stitches out and have a follow up on Thursday- so I will probably update then.

<3

How about i rearrange your face!

Tomorrow, the classic 80’s-90’s school yard threat of rearranging someone’s face is becoming my reality. That’s right! I am getting my face essentially punched in and then punched out again all in the name of taking a clean, deep breath and chewing. In a matter of 6 hours I will go from normal to drooling mess of a swollen person. Tomorrow, I’m getting upper and lower jaw surgery as well as a rhino and septoplasty.

While most people at a glance see “rhinoplasty” and immediately jump to an elective plastic surgery, this surgery will [hopefully] change my life. I am getting all of this done to my face so that I can finally, after a year and a half, get a full night of sleep and for the first time ever, breathe out of my nose. In addition, none of my teeth other than a back right molar touch when I bite, and when I force a bite, my jaw locks. My jaw also locks whenever I move it too much, too quickly, or infrequently. I am also a mouth-breather: the personal hell that college assholes claim to fall victim to. My retort: sorry that I breathe out of my mouth… if you don’t like it, spend a little less time tweeting about it and a little more time finding a seat next to someone with nose-breathing luxuries. However, if everything  goes according to the plan, in two months time, I will have a symmetrical bite/face, be breathing acceptably for an asshole college peer, and be underway to a half marathon… and also heading toward graduation.

Many…MANY doctors have been asking me how I am. Many family members have been asking me if I am ready. The answers to these questions are terrified and potentially. The more I think about more than an hour ahead of what is happening currently, immediate panic ensues. If I think about waking up in the hospital high, full of cotton, elastic’d shut and things surrounding my skull (thank goodness I’m claustrophobic with things near my face) and the inability to talk, I will immediately panic and tear. The only thing keeping me sane [ironically] is remembering how sedated and drugged I will be the whole time. Usually my game plan is to put off surgeries (see post about kidneys) but this time, I am going to ask for the paperwork first and then as I lift my pen off the dotted line, I want to be sedated already. I don’t plan on sticking around on this one due to many an idiosyncrasy I have that make this more of a mental terror than actual terror. The more blissfully unaware I am of what the deal is, the better off I will be, and the better off everyone around me will be. Mom if you’re reading this, have the video camera at the ready.

This is going to be one hell of a recovery, and one hell of a terrifying experience. I will probably try to write about the journey as a way to make it a little less isolating since I won’t be in school or talking for a few weeks. I feel like the things I am worrying about the most are going to fall by the wayside of the things I haven’t considered, or won’t until 5 minutes before they take some chunks out of my face. Also, I probably will end up becoming an animal like those people on survivor during week two of my all liquid diet due to the famine I’ll be dealing with.

Perhaps in my recovery and reclusiveness, I’ll do something productive and make J.D. Salinger proud. Just because I’ll be a recluse and it’ll be me and my mom for like 2-3 weeks and then just me, doesn’t mean I can’t find a thrilling and savvy solitary activity where people don’t have to see the horror of my face. Maybe ill enter the world of online gaming and make a persona. Or perhaps I will tap back into my old roots of the weird acting class I took in high school where 90% of it was miming- I’ll just add a mask. The world is my green juice! I say green juice instead of oyster because I won’t be able to eat an oyster- aside from the fact that I don’t like seafood. Green juice is the juicing world equivalent, I feel, of fine seafood.  Anyways, I’ll try to update every day or every few days- for now I am going to enjoy my last 12 hours of eating the crunchiest, chewiest foods that my back right molar can handle!

An open letter to setbacks:

Let’s be real. We aren’t strangers. But we aren’t friends either. An acquaintance is probably the most accurate term.  You’ve been around for awhile, and we’ve had some times, but I probably won’t invite you to my wedding. Allow me to explain:

You’re kind of a bitch. You make many things way more difficult than is ultimately necessary. You evoke emotions within me that I pride myself on not being familiar with, namely: devastated and slumpy. More than that, you take something that is wholly a positive thing and make the journey to it shitty. You take a potentially beautiful journey and throw a giant flaming bag of dog crap right in the middle of it. It’s just who you are- it’s your nature. I guess that’s just something that I, the recipient, have to familiarize myself with. But here is the thing about your flaming bag of smelly setback- the more I try to put out the fire, the more crap I get on my shoes. The more crap I get on my shoes, the grosser everything becomes. Eventually, if I stamp on the dog crap long enough, my shoes are smelly and ruined and no one wants to be near the smelly shoe girl. However, here is where you’re okay sometimes. If I ignore your bag of crap that you toss in my path, and keep my eye on the prize and flee from the stench, the end of the journey is amazing. And even if I try to put out the flames and ruin my shoes, I’ll get to go buy new shoes that I can use to keep moving forward, rather than ruining those too. And once I get to the finish of my journey, I’ll be celebrating the end result, looking smoking hot in my awesome shoes- and you will be a distant odor reminding me of how far I traveled to where I am. So thank you? Maybe?

If you don’t understand this tortured metaphor, setbacks suck. Setbacks also make or break us. If you give in to a setback in your way and let it totally block you, it’s done its primary job. You’re sad and lonely and stuck in a sad cycle. If you maneuver around the setback and use it as a motivational tool to keep moving forward that is just what you will do. Use the setback to test your strength and surprise yourself. Enjoy the finished product more now that you’re more than certain you've earned it. If someone doubts you, turn that negativity into “I cannot WAIT to prove you wrong”. If you want something bad enough, why let something so minute in the grand scheme of life belittle that? I know you can do it. It's not easy to leave something so devastating be, but you can do it. Empower yourself, keep the finish line and sight and enjoy the amazing outcome.