Monthly Archives: December 2009

I’m Going to Shave My Legs for New Year’s Eve. What’re YOUR plans?!

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Well.

I left this:

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for this:

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And oddly enough, it’s ok. I shoveled the driveway this morning and thoroughly enjoyed it. Shoveling is one of those tasks that, for me, is incredibly therapeutic. I know most people don’t shovel like I do–I’m meticulous and precise and have to get all the snow off the cement, or at least as much as I can, and I try to be as exact as possible in keeping the snow banks in line with the curb or edge of the sidewalk. (Can we say OCD?) Anyhow, I love tasks like that.

And now it’s New Year’s Eve. (How did that happen?)

We were going to hostess a party, but that never came together. Then I was going to cook a fancy dinner for just the two of us (one that we could get really dressed up for), but that fell through. Then we were going to invite the neighbors over, open house style, for cider and doughnuts, from 8:00 to midnight, and that fell through too.

So here I am, sitting in my skivvies, crossing things off the list (and adding more to it) of things to get done whilst I ring in the New Year.

And oddly enough, it’s ok. It’s perfect, actually. Here’s where I’m at so far:

1. Clean the kitchen (DONE)
2. Clean the downstairs bathroom (DONE)
3. Clean my bathroom (DONE)
4. Unpack, do all laundry (IN PROCESS)
5. Shave my legs (DONE)
Nothing says, “Hello New Year! I’m ready for you.”, like freshly shaved legs.
6. Go through dresser and closet: iron/refold/organize/downsize
7. Make a list of things to accomplish or learn in 2010
8. Make a list of all the things I accomplished or learned in 2009
9. Tidy my office nook
10. Go buy a new shower curtain liner
11. Toast the New Year (the sparkling cider is in the fridge, ready and waiting)

Here’s hoping you’re having as glamorous a New Year’s Eve as me!

xo

Hilton Head Island Restaurant Review: vol. 2, Truffles

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Doing a restaurant tour over a holiday vacation is a tricky thing. Apparently. There is still so much leftover turkey and stuffing in the fridge right now and we’ve eaten so much at every meal, opportunities (and desire) to eat out has not been as plentiful as I had anticipated.

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But I do want to share a recent outing my mother and I enjoyed to Truffles. Truffles isn’t necessarily an experience in Southern culinary indulgence, but it is delicious and unique to Hilton Head and so I do enjoy popping in for lunch every few trips home.

Truffles is located in Sea Pines Plantation on the south end of the island (with another cafe next to the Sea Shack and another over the bridge on the mainland). Bright paintings of florescent flamingos and palm trees add a certain beachy, but not gaudy, flair and the dimmed lighting mixed with natural light from two full walls of windows offers elegance but not stuffiness. A true representation of Hilton Head. It’s a flip-flops sort of town, you know, but it’s flip-flops with class. If that makes any sense.

Now onto the food…

I started with a cup of their tomato-dill soup.

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And finished with the black bean burger and a side of sweet potato fries.

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The burger was good, particularly due to the sauce they conconcted for it. But the soup … the soup was heavenly, and if I could get ahold of a DeLorean I’d go back and cancel the black bean burger and instead, eat a bowl (or two) of the soup. I’m somewhat of a conessuier of tomato soups, if I do say so myself (and I do), and it was divine. Especially with their warm bread and herbed butter (oh the butter … [sigh]).

Dessert was in the original plan, but upon second thought, we thought better. We. Were. Full. (Perhaps due, in part, to the bread and butter. Yes. Quite so.) So we left it at that. And that concluded our lunch at Truffles.

Bottom line: Do eat at Truffles, the next time you’re on Hilton Head. Do eat their tomato-dill soup (lots of it). And do hide the butter in your handbag. You’ll want it for later.

Hilton Head Island Restaurant Review: vol. 1, The Sea Shack

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Every summer I worked for my dad on his boats. And every day at least one tourist would ask: Where do the locals love to eat?

Well, I thought while I was home this time around, I might share some of those favorite spots with you. You’d like that, right?

So to begin my “must-eat-here” Hilton Head Island Restaurant Tour, I give you:

The Sea Shack

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Tucked away off New Orleans Rd. on the south end of our island, the Sea Shack would definitely be classifed as “hole in the wall” — my favorite type of restaurant. Homey, no-frills, and dang-good food. The menu changes daily based on what’s fresh…meaning fresh from the ocean. And of course, since this IS the South, there’s lots ‘o butter (“Buttuh, Buttuh, Buttuh”). You’ve just got to embrace the butter ’round these parts. And trust me. You’ll be happy you did.

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Today I had the grouper sandwich, grilled, with lettuce, tomato, onion, and tartar sauce (fyi: grouper is a type of fish indigenous to our warm ocean water.), with a side of macaroni & cheese (another Southern staple) and cheddar cheese corn bread.

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I’d never had their cheddar cheese corn bread before, but it was wow. Not too dry, like some corn breads I’ve had before, with a medium cheddar flavor, and what looked (and tasted) like finely minced jalapeno and red pepper. And the mac & cheese…oh good gracious! I could have eaten a whole ‘nother plate full. Creamy, smooth, and full of comfort. And a key lime pie for dessert. Wow. Wow. Wow. I might have licked the plate. Oh and did I mention the hush puppies? Might just have been the best hush puppies I’ve ever had. Truthfully. Maybe even better than Hudson’s (which might be blasphemous to say). p.s. we’ll get to Hudson’s in another post.

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My favorite Sea Shack item, however, is the sweet potato corn bread, and it wasn’t on today’s menu. Sad! But the cook said she’d make it tomorrow, so … I’ll be back for another round … tomorrow. Hooray for Miss Betty (the cook)!

***
And then, after a filling, fully satisfying, finger licking, lip smacking lunch, I might have played for a while with the plastic lobster sitting on the shelf by our table. Yes. I might have done that.

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So the moral of the story is … whilst on Hilton Head, eat at the Sea Shack.

Dear Santa: My 2009 Christmas Wish List

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We’re only a couple days away from Christmas and I haven’t written my letter to Old Saint Nick yet! Oy Veh!

(I don’t think I’m getting any of these, but a girl can dream right?)

1. A New Sewing Machine … with all the bells and whistles

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2. This Knife … my kitchen told me we really needed it again the other day.

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3. These bowls … aren’t they just so pretty!?

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4. A tart pan … I’ve set a goal to master tarts in 2010.

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5. iTunes gift card … I always need new music.

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6. Julie & Julia … no wait! Frit already got me this for Christmas, complete with a Julia Child cookbook. Oh how I love love this movie.

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7. This necklace … isn’t it fantastic?! So sweet and romantic.
(And in fact, I have a crush on everything in this artist’s shop)

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And … now I’m off to the beach! Have a lovely day!

Goin’ to Carolina

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And not just “in my mind.”

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I am back home on Hilton Head Island for Christmas.

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My days will be filled with wandering, beach-combing, boating, and filling my camera with all the lovely sights that I will inevitably miss when I’m frozen to the core in the middle of another Utah winter.

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How is it that one place can be so delicious?

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Salon Tantrum: All A Girl Needs Is a Really Good Haircut

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Ammon was the best hairdresser I’ve ever had in my life. He also might have been the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life. No joke. Just the thought of him standing over me washing my hair makes me need a cold shower. Holy Hannah. He is one good looking man.

But seriously. Looks aside–best hairdresser ever. He knew just how to cut my hair to make it lay perfect, even after just waking up. Every time he finished, I’d look in the mirror and love myself just a bit more than the last time I’d sat in his chair.

He was the first man to ever call me “sexy.” And I believed him. And not just because of his blue eyes and cute tush and perfectly cut muscles that fell at the just the right spot under his short sleeve shirts. I believed him because I could see it too. My hair, was hot.

But Ammon broke up with his boyfriend and left all of us worshipers, ahem…clients, for the bright lights of New York City where he is now a stylist for the stars. Is it pathetic that Frit and I have actually talked about flying to New York just to have our hair cut (and washed) by Ammon?

Anyways, long story short, when Ammon left he recommended his clients to April–who was also great. It wasn’t “Ammon hair” but it was still on the upper end of the hot hair spectrum. But then April moved her station to Salon Tantrum in Layton, UT and her prices increased significantly. I thought I couldn’t justify it and so she recommended Melissa–who was also great. Again, not Ammon, nor April, but I still had pretty hair. But then Melissa switched to Salon Tantrum too, and left no recommendations.

So in July I went to some random hairdresser around the corner from my house. And I’ve hated my hair ever since. But as I was scheduled to fly home to South Carolina for the holidays, I needed to do something with the mop on top of my head. I broke down and made an appointment at Salon Tantrum. Not that I never wanted to be a “regular” there. I just thought I couldn’t warrant the expense. But let me just tell you this: all a girl really needs is a good haircut. Forget chocolate. Forget men (not really. I just said that for effect). Forget high heels. Forget Spanx. Really. All a girl really needs is a good haircut (at a good salon).

Just imagine walking into the salon and being offered a glass of water infused with either citrus or cucumbers. Imagine laying back to have your hair washed and finding yourself resting on a warm towel (it really makes you all gooey inside in case you’re wondering) and then not waking up the next morning with a sore neck from the sink because it was matched up perfectly with the chair. Imagine after getting your hair washed, having a warm towl carefully laid over your forehead and then getting a pressure point massage. As a sidenote: it was so fantastically cleansing and relaxing I was seriously on the brink of tears. And then imagine getting the best haircut and style this side of Ammon.

Best $50 I’ve ever spent.

***
Salon Tantrum did not ask for this endorsement.
Although they ought to give me a free haircut for this glowing review.
And you should go make an appointment. So you can feel super hot too.
Tell them Krista Maurer referred you.
Salon Tantrum, Layton, UT 801.776.1243

Become a Woman of Steel: Triathlon Registration is OPEN!

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Remember when I became a triathlete? i.e. a Woman of Steel? Ah yeeaah. Best. Day. Ever.

Well now it’s time for you to become a Woman of Steel too. Registration for the 2010 race (on May 22 in American Fork, UT) is open now. Don’t think about all the reasons you think you can’t do this. Don’t think about why you shouldn’t. Just go sign up. Right now.

Click Here to Register

Are you still talking yourself out of it? Stop it! Seriously. You will be so happy you did this race. Yes. It is hard. Stinking hard. Yes. You will want to quit. Every mile. ‘Specially the ones uphill. But you will also feel the most amazing rush of power and ability surge through you when you cross that finish line. Trust me.

And just know…You can totally do it. You can. It’s only a 300 yard swim in a pool (and if you need to stop and stand up or walk a few yards to catch your breath, you can. You can even doggy paddle the swim if you don’t know how to freestyle.), followed by a 12 mile bike ride, followed by a 3 mile run. It’s a women-only race, so no worries about the big, huge, hulking men (although that might be quite nice, come to think of it). AND it’s women of all ages, ability, shape, and size. Frit and I met a 16-year-old and a 76-year-old in line at the starting point this last year. And small people (like Frit) and not-so-small people (like me) can, and do, finish. It’s just an all around amazing day that celebrates the strength of women.

So do it. Because you can.

Click Here to Register

And let me know if you do! We can all train together.

p.s. they also take relay teams if you’re just completely scared to death of doing the whole thing yourself.

p.p.s. registration fills up fast so don’t think too long about signing up. Frit and I had the alarms on our phones set to remind us to register today.

p.p.p.s. if you live out of state…Come! You can stay with us (is that ok Frit?) and it’ll be awesome!

Looks Like It’s Your Lucky Day

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See, here’s the thing. I don’t like to talk about dating. Partly because I don’t know what to say about it. But mostly because it’s difficult. It’s like walking a tight rope. If you wobble or bobble and say the wrong thing you fall on one of two sides: a) the side where you’re viewed as whiny and desperate and unsatisfied with your life because you don’t have “someone” or b) the side where you’re overly “fine” with your “situation” and don’t appear to even need that “someone”. And both, are dangerous.

Having said that, I need to explain some things about my perspective, which is LDS (Mormon). Most people who are not LDS would say that “30 and unmarried” isn’t that big of a deal–that there’s plenty of time. But the thing is, being “30 and unmarried” in the LDS faith is a bit of an anomaly. Most Mormons marry in their early 20′s and begin families soon thereafter. And while that trend is shifting to where people are now marrying at slightly older ages, it still doesn’t negate the emphasis our faith puts on the importance of family, regardless of age.

We believe–I believe– that the family is central to our Heavenly Father’s plan of happiness for us, His children. We believe that the greatest joys in life are to be found within the walls of our own homes. I know that to be true. And therein lies the foundation of my greatest wants.

And yet, beyond these matters of faith, there are also just the simple feelings of a girl’s heart–a hopeless romantic girl’s heart who wishes for someone to hold hands with and dance with late at night after all the dishes are done. Who wants to pack her love’s lunch every morning and iron his shirts every afternoon. Who wants to have dinner waiting, along side a big fat kiss. Who wants evening walks and quiet talks right before she tucks her perpetually frozen feet in between his warm ones under the covers. Who wants Cherrios ground into the carpet and permanent marker on the walls. (And if anyone tells me I’m living in a dreamland, leave now please. You’re not invited to read this blog anymore. I’m serious.) This girl has kept these feelings locked up tight for a while now, because it’s too hard to feel them. It’s just easier to avoid them and dive head first into the life I’ve been given, than to allow them to permeate the hours of daylight. It’s easier to say, “it’s fine. I’m happy. I love my life. What great things can I accomplish while I have this time?”

But that’s the thing…I really am fine. I am happy. I do love my life and want to do all I can to acheive great things. And I am–acheiving great things, that is. I’m on that tightrope, as we speak, feeling all of it at the same time–being “fine” but knowing there’s more, loving my life for all that it is but seeing what it still lacks, working hard to accomplish great things while knowing the greatest achievement I could ever attain is that of being a wife and mother.

Oh wow. I just re-read everything I just wrote. It’ll be your lucky day if I actually push “Publish Post.”

And so. I don’t talk about it. Because I don’t know what to say. And because it’s difficult and I don’t know how to walk the tightrope in public.

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as always, please don’t leave any stupid comments.
and no, I still don’t want to talk about it.

A Step in the Right Direction? I don’t know. The jury’s still out.

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So I did it. I paid for eHarmony.

It was impulsive and reckless–which is how I think most normal people sign up for these sites. It’s late at night. You’ve just finished watching a Jane Austen movie and in a fit of longing for a man (preferably with an English accent) to sweep you off your feet and fall madly in love with you, you find yourself actually thinking, “This might be a good idea. I mean where else am I going to meet someone?”

I’m not saying that’s what happened to me. I’m just saying…I imagine that’s how it might could possibly happen for someone else. Or something along those lines. Maybe.

So it’s been three days and can I just say…it’s miserable. Every anxiety, fear, and insecurity has come bubbling to the surface as though I was a 10th grader facing the lunchroom wondering what table is acceptable for me to sit at.

I can’t believe I actually paid money for this.

*as a reminder: don’t leave any stupid comments about dating, being single at 30, how you understand, how you got married later (at the ripe old age of 26) and that it will all work out, how God has someone wonderful waiting, how God needs me for something special in the meantime, etc. “Stupid” being the operative word here. And if we meet in person, no. I don’t want to talk about this.