Why does restlessness set in during the late evening hours, in the darkness, when the house sleeps and your stomach aimlessly hungers for chocolate, salt, and grease? How is an overwhelming self-assurance always followed by an irrational sense of inadequacy or unlikeability? What does it feel like, the contentment that was present only hours ago? Where did the voices of insecurity take the speakers of confidence to silence their words? Who will prevail in the battle of untruths, the false optimism or the contrived self-defeat? Surely, in this post-modern world, the answer changes with each rising and falling experience of the self.

My Big Fat Tub of Greek Yogurt

WHY I LOVE IT

Inspired by the fact that I found an unopened a container of Greek yogurt in my fridge that's going to expire in two days, I thought I'd share of the wonders of Fage 2%.

Greek yogurt is a tangy, ultra-thick version of the Dannon cups your mom packed in your lunchbox as a kid. I've tried both the regular and 2% varieties, and would wager that the regular borders on soft cream cheese while the 2% is akin to regular sour cream. Before you freak out about the fat and calorie amounts on the nutrition label, please see the protein content. It is out of this world, and makes the moderate fat quantity seem appropriate.

WAYS TO EAT IT

1) For lunch today I am eating a concoction that has such high tang factor that I'm tempting lock-jaw. I don't really care because it's delicious. For the faint of heart, you could add some honey to the yogurt to soften the blow. This combo will certainly wake you up in the morning!

One serving Greek yogurt*
One orange, peeled and sectioned
1 level hand-full of each: craisins and walnuts

*Note the massive serving sizes!

2) Greek yogurt makes an amazing fruit dip! Add some walnuts (my favorite add-in) or honey, and dip fresh strawberries and grapes for what feels like an indulgence...but isn't! I packed this in my lunch box at work one day, and I had many jealous stares from folks in the cafeteria. Be prepared to guard your goodies.

3) Craisins and semi-sweet chocolate chunks make for a yummy, sweeter yogurt snack. You could also try peanut-butter chips and chocolate chunks with sliced bananas for a Chunky Monkey tribute.

There are so many possibilities for a delicious, high-protein snack...or meal...or dessert. However you try it, enjoy!

Sprung to Style

It has been three weeks since I entered the post-schooling world. In all honesty, I feel like I'm in an intensive detox for the severe work-aholism that I suffered for the past year. The total loss of self and society has ended, and I find my newly forged free time both lovely and aimless. Coupled by a week of rainy days and my inspiration to more wisely waste my time spent on the computer, I have recently discovered the intriguing world of fashion blogging and outfit du jour photo streams. I have embraced the irony that I typically browse these pages in my 6-year old flannel pajama pants and well-traveled (or disgusting) college sweatshirt.

In celebration of those more fashionable than me, please take a gander and enjoy a little extra procrastination today.

The Blogs

MRS-O


(Photo: www.mrs-o.org)

My thanks to Ginny Heidel for directing me to this blog, and for inspiring this week's web fixation. "Mrs-O" follows the fashion choices of First Lady Michelle Obama, spanning selections from designer gowns to Gap sundresses. I think the blog a fitting tribute to the lovely through-and-through "Mrs. O."


WHAT I WORE


(Photo: http://whatiwore.tumblr.com)

Once you get beyond the sometimes overwhelming sponsorship material on this blog, you can see that "What I Wore" has a knack for styling outfits that have landed her in publications like the New York Post. I like that her simple, vintage-inspired ensembles are both believable and cunningly stylish.

FRASSY



(Photo: www.befrassy.com)

While I couldn't imagine wearing most (or any?) of the outfits she crafts, "Frassy" has an unique trend of blending poetry and literary quotes into her faithfully updated fashion blog. She seems to have a penchant for the 1980's, not the most kindred of fashion eras for me.


The Photostreams

MY SOLITARY CONSIGNMENT


(Photo: www.flickr.com/photos/33072591@N06)

A blogger at ModCloth, this fashionista is the guru of all outfits vintage. Her photostream is day after day of delightful skirts and dresses, paired with patterned tights and a seemingly endless collection of fun and funky shoes.

A MOMENT IN FASHION



(Photo: www.flickr.com/groups/amomentinfashion)

If you're looking for a post-modern fashion expose, you will probably enjoy "A Moment in Fashion." Outfits vary from bad to brilliant, but this group photostream is sure to entertain. Watch out for 1980's nightmares or an overabundance of black eyeliner. Also, Betty Boop impostors.

It's the end of the world as we know it,

and I feel fine.

I am ending my life as a perpetual student, H1N1 is going to deplete the world's population, and somehow the globe keeps turning.

Spot on.

I tried to paint my fingernails this morning, which I suppose I accomplished. Unfortunately, I also painted a whole lot of my fingers in the process. Only on my right hand, of course, because I thought it was smart to paint dark red polish on my finger tips before I got dressed or brushed my teeth or ate my breakfast. Frustrated by my manic Monday manicure, I performed a pathetic search of the refrigerator and selected a slice of flat-bread pizza for breakfast. I steered the car with my knee through several construction zones, trying to chip away at my fiasco fingernails. This is a conceited way to begin the week. If you could see me right now, you would understand that there is nothing to be conceited about.

What is it with travel that makes people, or maybe just me, so restless? It's not like I went on a life-changing excursion last weekend, but suddenly I'm feeling the "neither here nor there" tensions of trying to determine which of my lives I want to hang on to. Which place do I want to live, and near which people? I am realizing that I can't have everything I want. I can't live in New Hampshire three seasons of the year, spend spring in Pennsylvania, and amasse the select group of people I care most about in the those locations on that schedule. Life is annoying like that. Having friends is complicated like that. Central Pennsylvania in fall and winter is ugly like that. I've had the convenience of tunnel vision for the past year, and now I have no idea what I want. Or, maybe I am afraid to admit what I want?

So, I'll distract myself with smears of nail polish, and usually neglected blogs, and anything that can keep me from really finding the answers to the should, could, would questions.

I'm All Shook-Up

A few minutes ago I got into a dispute with my mother over the fact that she took my spot in the bathroom toothbrush holder last week. I know that she has at least two of her retired toothbrushes already taking up valuable toothbrush real-estate. She does not understand my frustration. On the other hand, she owns this rent-free establishment I've been living in for the past 11 months, so I guess I will have to find a coping mechanism that doesn't involve sabotaging her eighteen billion blue toothbrushes. Darn.

That being said, I apparently have the maturity of a five-year old today. I'm not sure if that is better or worse than usual, but I sense that I am in a dangerous mood this evening--the sort of mood that is best addressed by removing myself from all social interactions, and going to sleep in hopes that slumber will serve as a "reset" function for my terrible tantrum-like demeanor. Too bad I had both coffee and a caffeinated soda on my seven hour drive earlier today, coupled with all sorts of melodramas that I've been playing out in my head because I am brimming over with nostalgia and/or discontent. Sleep will not bail me out of this sinking ship quite yet.

I get all worked up when my friends make comments out of left field related to my (total lack of a) love life. Comments like, for instance, "what might happen with so-and-so if you relocated to his area?" Why I take these things as directives from God Almighty is really beyond me, but for the next few days (you know, until I realize that my divinely betrothed is completely devoid of interest in me) I feel like I have to seriously evaluate the suggestion. This whole thing is ludicrous. Please avoid making statements like this unless you know that the attractive male to whom you refer is ready to propose to me.

Who am I, and what am I going to do with my life?! I think those questions are fairly self-explanatory. The answers, on the other hand, are so very far beyond me right now. Skip eligible bachelor commentaries, offer me a job, and tell me what hobbies I like. I don't know how to be an adult and make decisions for myself, so please just make them for me. Forever. Thank you very much.