Christmas Eve was just lovely. Was it the combination of  a delicious meal and the midnight candelight service? Or possibly, the jejune anticipation of opening gifts the next morning? Nonetheless, it was a well spent day and a perfect precedent for Christmas day.

Allow me to emphasize on one particular aspect..the meal. It's been tradition in our family for years to have brie pasta every Christmas Eve, and let me just say, it never gets old. Made with simple ingredients, this dish is absolutely divine. Fresh, creamy brie, sweet cherry tomatoes, fresh picked basil, absurd amounts of garlic, and a hearty pasta comprise this rich delicacy. It's exciting to know that some of the most flavorful dishes can be prepared from basic, affordable ingredients.

Here's the brie pasta (in the making) :

In following, Christmas day was purely a regression to childhood, minus waking up at the crack o' to open gifts. Christmas truly is timeless. But the best part? THE SNOW.

That's all for now, as I'll be frolicking in the snow all today. Dont judge, maturity is overrated.

I've been back at my humble abode for just shy of two weeks and it's taken me until right about now to really relax. Don't get me wrong, I slept and laid around like a blob for the first few days of break, but to completely slow down takes time.

I forgot how much I miss my full size bed, showering sans shower shoes, identifiable food, and classic peace and quiet. Since I've been home for longer than a few days, home feels a little less like a bed and breakfast and a more like a flashback to summer. I've found myself working, reading books of my choice for once, and especially cooking. I made a beautiful lentil stew this evening for dinner (see photo below.) The lentils gave it a creamy texture, while the bay leaves added depth to each spoonful. I substituted kale for the spinach and used sweet potatoes instead of russet. I served it with a fresh loaf of sourdough and it turned out to be hit.

View Lentil Stew Recipe

18 more days of winter break..here we go.

There are only two exams left between me,myself, and I and the entire 34 days I'm proud to call Christmas break. It's amazing how much mental energy exams consume. Currently, I'm attempting to keep the names of forty-five different bacteria and parasites and nineteen pages of pure facts pertaining to who knows what (somehow related to microbiology) all whilst I prepare my cranium for my psychology exam on Thursday. Might I add, I musn't forget I have until Thursday to pack my entire dorm of a room and load everything (including my three plants) into the car...eek!

More importantly, with Christmas break drawing near, my brain has been ticking (wild guess.) C'est zarbi to think that I'll be away from the people I'm used to spending every waking moment with for an entire month. Sad? Maybe, not really, no. And here is where my blog entry takes flight. 

It all started last night when I forgot to take my phone with me to dinner...tragic right? Hardly. After getting over the shock, between the time it took me to walk through the arctic tundra to the dining hall, I realized how nice it was to not be reachable, for once. True life, I can be reached via skype, adium, ichat, facebook chat, text, or call...you pick. Gagggg me. Why am I sickened at the thought of being so available, per se? Let me count the ways. Being available, as in available to meet for coffee or catch up over dinner is acceptable. Being available, as in you can communicate with me sans tone of voice or facial expression, frightens me. 

It scares me to see how communication is becoming so depersonalized. Call me old fashioned but whatevs, this is my blog, not yours. I'm not tabooing texting or chat, but rather coming to realize that if those forms of communication become too mainstream then you can really miss out. Honestly, who tells stories of funny aim chats or memorable text conversations? No one. Personally, I make my memories sitting through six shifts of eaters at the dining hall because I'm wrapped up in a conversation, losing track of time laying on hoggard lawn anticipating the weekend to come, blasting Florence + The Machine en route to walmart, sipping coffee at 2pm in pajamas with my hallmates, mattress sledding on who know's who's mattress (oops,) or rolling on the ground laughing playing Things. Get my point? 

Memories and relationships aren't built upon emotionless, faceless forms of communication. Relationships grow when you share a laugh, cry, or memorable moment together. Thus, memories are a result of those relational moments. Is this starting to sound like an essay or editorial? Oops, I guess I'm still in exam mode. Regardless, my take-away is to facebook chat less (especially if that person lives two doors down), write more letters, and make time to have real, down to earth conversations, merely because life's too short not to. 

And bringing this topic back around to Christmas, (if you ever thought it'd get here,) no longer impels  anxiety. Rather, I've come to realize that the people I really care about, and those who care about me, will make the effort to stay in touch and meet up over the break. And if distance is a problem, well that's when skype comes in handy...hypocrite much? Not quite, it's about making small steps to become more personal and less technologically dependent, not moving to an amish community.

Until next time, I'll be cramming, packing, shivering, and "forgetting" my phone a little more often.

It's pouring rain outside my room right now and fortunately I'm in my natural habitat: pajamas, hot chocolate, and only the dim christmas lights above my window to keep my eyes from closing shut. As previously brought to attention, it's exam week. I've been studying quite literally all day for my chemistry exam on Friday. Might you be asking yourself, why do I care? My point exactly.

People watching, one of "the little things" (tee hee), is beyond entertaining during exam week. Alter egos emerge. Efficiency spreads. Creativity bursts. Simply, under pressure, everyone acts differently. Personally, when I'm in a time crunch, my sarcasm spirals out of control and my creativity soars. Yesterday, one of my less "productive" days, I found myself laying on the floor, listening to the London Symphony (in particular Mozart: Clarinet Concerto in A- Adagio) and working on an Indian mosaic. Where did this side of me come from? I'm not quite sure.

Do deadlines make us realize how much we're missing out on? As I was writing down my to do list in my Franklin planner (Mmm I love the smell of leather), I realized how many other things I'd rather be doing (shocker.) I realized how much I'd love to lay around and listen to The Morning Benders or Iron and Wine, go for a run (ahh exercise, what?), read my cooking light cookbook, or catch up on this week's Outsourced.

Furthermore, it scares me to see my potential, and that of others, for a short period of time, only to slip back into a relaxed, steady lifestyle pushing aside things that I really want to do. It's too easy to keep pushing aside the road trips you always wanted to take, the goals just within reach, the recipes just screaming to be tried out, or the stack of classic novels that should've already been read. As I like to say, it truly is the little things in life, the things that you're passionate about, that make any day or period of time worth while.

Until next time, I'll be writing a list of things I'd like to do over christmas break, and strangely wishing weeks like these came more than once a semester.

It's two fifteen in the morning and might I add, exam week. Am I the brightest bulb for creating a blog on behalf of my caffeine rush? Maybe, probably, most likely, certainly not. Regardless, I'm awake and my cranium is at work. 

Fun fact, if you're ever stuck in a pickle and in need of small talk, the weather never fails. Speaking of, it's been absolutely gorgeous here in Wilmington. The air always smells a salty breeze, and the sun seems to hit the window next to my bed at just the right angle. 

Last Sunday, my small talk of the weather turned into surprisingly pleasant afternoon. I grabbed my navy longchamp, ipod, and a list of book recommendations. I stopped by the library and picked up The Friday Night Knitting Club. Definitely not my first choice (I was hoping to find The Art of Racing in the Rain) but thus far it's been a satisfying, easy read. Not twenty minutes of starfishing on my blanket on hoggard lawn did I find myself face-planted in my book, quite literally soaking up the sun. Power nap win.

A view from the edge of my book...

Until next time, when the real blog begins, I'll (hopefully) have my head in my books.

Cheers.