I'm getting restless...already

I named this blog after my love of travel and I think it's about time I bore you all with my current wish list of wanderlust. These are a few tempting things I've been daydreaming out in chilly, rainy Indiana.

First of all, I cannot say enough good things about the Let's Go! books. Boyfriend and I were gifted the Italy edition before our backpacking adventure a few summers ago and it was an incredible resource. The advice is from real travelers and the multitude of information is so easy to navigate. There are country-specific tips, reviews on everything from hostels to museum tours and large cities are organized by neighborhood. I'm no expert on guidebooks but we found this one pretty great.

Next up is Airbnb. I finally checked this website out a month or so ago and can I tell you something? Those people are brilliant! Type in a location and it'll pull up dozens of personal, little places you can rent. A lot of what is offered are just average residents with a little extra space. Maybe they have a guest cottage or an apartment on their land, maybe they've turned their place into an informal B&B. Whatever the specifics, you're sure to find a charming place more interesting than a chain hotel and probably some awesome perks-one place I saw in Hawaii offered their own surfboards for use!

Speaking of Hawaii, here's what I want to do if I ever get to visit the most tropical state:

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I found Kaui'i Backcountry Adventures on Pinterest. (Check out my wanderlust board if you're interested in all the other crazy things I hope to afford one day.) You float on inner tubes through the canals of an old sugar cane plantation. Relaxing! Historical! This sounds like the perfect way to spend an afternoon.

I've been fortunate to see a handful of countries in my twenty-five years and I love traveling to faraway places despite the long, cramped plane ride and weekend-long jet lag. So, in the over-the-top dream vacation category we have Morocco. I want to eat their food and buy their rugs, marvel at all the beautiful colors and maybe never come home. Take a look at this beautiful photo featured in the New York Times a couple years ago.

As Liz Lemon says, I want to go to there.

I suppose the positive side of not being able to afford to do these things in the immediate future is my already full schedule what with living in a new place, working as much as possible and hoping to start grad school. Of course, if anyone is interested in bestowing lavish gifts...I could make something work.

Home is Where the Floors Creak

Having been home over the holidays made me think about how much my parents' tastes have shaped my own. I like to believe that I have made every single decision based only on my own brain power but anyone knows that isn't how it works. The people you grow up around sneak themselves into every nook and cranny of your thoughts no matter how much you fight it in surprising ways.

My dad used to quiz my brother and I on roof styles while running errands around town. Mansard, hip, gambrel, gable- just try to stump me. I'm even better with types of columns. Unsurprisingly, I developed an early interest in architecture. It also helps that I grew up in the coolest house ever. What's that? Your childhood home rocked? Cool. Mine was better.

Yeah, I'm in love with the house from the Wikipedia article on bungalows.

I grew up in a stone bungalow that was built in 1908 (allegedly by a chain gang!). It had a massive front porch held up by cement casts of tree trunks and when the mailbox needed to be replaced, my dad used an antique fire alarm box. As a kid I thought the place was huge. My parents will be quick to tell you that was not the case. Apparently with two small kids, a dog and at least one cat 1,700 square foot isn't exactly expansive. When you're nine years old though, the crawl-space-turned-closet in your already giant bedroom is the greatest secret hideout in the world (it had carpet and shelves!). The dining room had massive picture windows and a bench under those windows that ran the length of the room. At the center of the living room was an enormous stone fireplace, the backdrop of nearly all my childhood Christmas photos.

Now that I am learning to be a grown-up (so tough!) and have my own place, I find that I fall in love with houses for the same reason my parents fell in love with that bungalow. Hardwood floors are the single most charming thing ever, bonus points if they creak. A front porch of porch-sittin' size is a necessity. If the house has a particularly colorful history I want to hear about it. The little house we're renting now is pretty fantastic. It has the requisite wood floors, beautiful wood trim around all the doors and I got to choose the cozy color for the living room walls. It's called 'Bagel'. Wonderful, yes? The basement is accessed by a door in the floor rigged to a hand-made pulley system. I guess you could say it's part cute cottage, part pirate ship.

Behold! A crummy showcase of all the pretty wood!

While homeownership may still be a speck on the horizon, I know I'll rank quirky charm over granite countertops every time. New, luxury stuff is great, it's just not my style. Give me a weird, hundred-year-old house any day.

Ode to a Slow Cooker

Slow cooker, Crockpot, vessel of deliciousness, whatever you call yours, they're wonderful. You don't have one? Go now! I'll wait. Buy a huge one! Buy three!

Ok, everybody ready? Excellent. I love my slow cooker. We have this one.

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It combines all my favorite ways to cook. First, there's no need to follow a recipe. I can throw in whatever combination of things I think will be delicious and BLAMMO! Dinner! What's more, you couldn't ask for an easier process: round up ingredients, dump 'em in, wait. Not that I don't love dicing, sauteing and broiling but sometimes, everyone once in a while and definitely not most days, I do not find myself in the mood to make dinner. Finally, the variety of dishes you can prepare in this most wonderful of kitchen appliances is endless. We make chili, barley and veggies, soup, rice and beans, potatoes, anything!

I discovered one of my favorite slow cooker combos by total accident. I was in one of those moods where I wanted a real dinner, not Jimmy John's...again but the fridge wasn't calling out suggestions (rude). So, I dumped a few chicken breasts, a can of V8, some frozen bell pepper slices and some barley into the slow cooker and voila! A tasty, relatively healthy and most importantly, effortless dinner was had! I'm expecting a call from Food Network any day now. I'll have a show in one of those totally over the top kitchens you're supposed to believe is real. Dump and Stir with Caitlin! Glamorous, right?

I've spotted a number of breakfast and dessert recipes for slow cookers but I have yet to try them. Any suggestions? Blueberry cobbler? Sausage, egg and cheese explosion casserole?

No really, I love my job.

As the title indicates I am one lucky girl. I love my job. Not blogging- hard to believe this revolutionary (albeit sporadic) blog doesn't pay the bills, huh? The concept of loving one's job has been a hard sell for me. I spent a couple years after college at random retail jobs- working weekends, folding and refolding sweaters and being treated not so much like a person but as a means to an end. Oy. I don't miss it.

These days I am an elementary school teaching assistant- with hopes of starting grad school this fall to become a teacher. For now, I help kiddos with sounding out words, fractions, telling time and following directions without completely melting down.

I so love this job that regularly gets me sneezed on, coughed at and stepped on. I mediate bickering, attend to paper cuts and I wash crayon and glue out of dress pants. I wake up hours before Boyfriend and think about struggling students long after I'm home. I'm planning to take on student loans to pursue a career notorious for it's small paycheck.

But, when was the last time you walked into a room and several small but enthusiastic voices announced your arrival? Sure, they can't quite pronounce my last name, that's part of what makes it great. Random waist-high hugs are a regular thing in my line of work and in five short months I've become completely addicted to seeing that moment when a student "gets it".

It used to be when someone told me "I couldn't imagine doing anything else", I assumed they were exaggerating- they couldn't actually feel that way about their job. A job is something you tolerate in order to do the things you actually like. Apparently it doesn't have to be. Yes, I've been sure some days that my head would actually explode. Yes, I wrestle with the idea that I've chosen a stereotypically "female" career. Does that mean I can't be a feminist? Am I bowing to social pressure? Nope. I just really enjoy helping these small, messy people figure things out.

It may have taken me until almost 26 years old but I know what I want to be when I grow up. 

2013

Happy 2013! It's the month of resolutions. Do you make them? Do you hate them? Are you just annoyed at how busy your gym has become?

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I'm neither for or against the making of resolutions. I find the whole "fresh start" thing appealing and generally use that feeling to reenergize goals I've pushed to the back burner. I should learn to knit something other than a scarf. We could probably be recycling more. This year I'm not going to let my car go too long between oil changes.

I also use the new year to instill some good, old-fashion self loathing. You are not going to spend another year 10 pounds overweight. I know, being hard on yourself in the longterm is not the answer. But, small doses, I find, get me on the treadmill.

Getting carried away is easy but being unrealistic won't end well. If your resolution is to cook more and currently you've got multiple restaurants on speed dial, a fondue shouldn't be step one. Step one should maybe be to stop using the oven as shoe storage. Try not to compare your goals to others either. I'm guilty of this one and it drives me crazy. Oh sure, she's cutting refined sugar completely out of her diet. Apparently she's super-human! Gah!

This year what I'm finding more motivating is that I turn 26 in April. That means I'll be closer to 30 than 20. While this may not seem significant to everyone, to me it signals a need to be more of an adult than a child. Time to kick some bad habits: waiting to do dishes until the kitchen is toxic, waking up fifteen minutes before I need to be out the door, forgetting to send thank you notes. So, January is serving as a reminder that I'm only a few months away from that significant birthday. Better get moving.