Facetime

Summer time means sunset dinners, bright colors, and many, many opportunities to wear my favorite lipstick.

It also means dry, flaky skin.

Here's what I use to keep it in check:

1. Origins Checks and Balances face wash

2. Origins Modren Friction exfoliator

3. Origins United State toner

I also slather suncreen on my skin every. single. day. I use a tinted sunscreen for my face instead of foundation (I like Atopalm BB Cream, with SPF 20)

(photo via skinstore)

Throw on some lipstick and eyeshadow--good to go!

  

Off to The Duce for the best sliders and cocktails in town!

Instagram @grishmapolitan

Dbacks vs. Padres! (Uh how does baseball work again?)

Waiting Alone(?)

Waiting sucks. I get restless. I feel like I'm my wasting time. The only time waiting doesn't suck is at the airport, when the excitement of an upcoming trip is enough to keep my thoughts busy. But I'm not going to the airport today. 

Today, I'm going to the DMV. 

I brought this 750-page book with me to read just in case when I get bored. 

While standing in line at the DMV (can't read a book while standing, especially not this behemoth), it happened. The itch. What's happening on instagram? Did someone text me? 

Nope. Don't do it. Don't touch your phone. Be present. Experience the DMV. 

I looked around. I nodded politely at the police officer when I met his gaze. 

A group of baggy-shirted teenage boys sat in a row, their faces buried in copies of a driver's manual. 

A little girl was skipping to the water fountain.

I heard my name. It was my friend, Nicole, here to get her motorcycle license. We spoke across the line, and soon everybody around us warmed up and started talking to each other. The man standing directly behind me, an elderly man in a sunhat, asked me if I'm getting a motorcycle license too. I laughed, telling him that driving a car stressed me out, and that a motorcycle would surely be worse. He told me he used to ride a motorcycle until his wife got too nervous about it. When he was 18 he tried riding it while drunk and couldn't keep his balance. Now he drives a Buick.

"Motorcycles, you don' need no breathalyzers. Can't even ride the damn things if you been drinkin'!" 

We laughed.

Roy and I talked about our day, his brief stint as a truck driver in Nevada, my current stint as a math teacher. Before I knew it, it was my turn to walk up to the counter. 

That was fast.

One of my favorite books, The Plague, has a passage I remember vividly:

"How to contrive not to waste one's time? By being fully aware of it all the while. Ways in which this can be done: By spending one's days on an uneasy chair in a dentist's waiting room; by remaining on one's balcony all a Sunday afternoon; by travelling by the longest and least-convenient train routes, and of course standing all the way; by queueing at the box-office of theatres and then not booking a seat."

 - Albert Camus

Camus is obviously being sarcastic, but I think there's something good about waiting alone without distracting yourself with things only you care about. There's something satisfying about learning from people. How often are you actually waiting alone?

I'm glad I didn't miss out on this opportunity at the DMV. I'm glad I paid attention to the details. I'm glad I, uh, experienced it.

Orange-Pineapple Iced Tea

My sweet mama got me a batch of iced tea from Teavana (no caffeine!) and I need this now more than ever in the scorching Phoenix sun. I make a batch in a large pot and store it in glass bottles for the entire week!

Because these are all loose teas, it makes it really easy to mix flavors. Today, I mixed the orange and pineapple teas, along with some German rock sugar (it came with the box, honey works just as well!)

Let it steep in a pot for about 30 minutes (I like my teas potent) and strain into glass bottle when the liquid has cooled. The first time I made a batch, I wasn't thinking and poured it into a glass bottle while the water was still boiling... let's just say it took me several days to get the last of the shattered glass off the kitchen floor.

Here's to staying hydrated!

The Importance of Space

I've never been good at "working at home."

In college, I couldn't get anything done in my room because everything made me sleepy and distracted. I literally would sit outside in the hallway and get more done there than in my own space, even though it was almost always noisier. I'd go to libraries, cafes, parks, lounges, weird nooks behind staircases... anywhere but my room.

Post-college life is the same. Teaching requires some preparation outside the regular workday (cough) so that meant I couldn't just clock out at the end of the workday and be done. Here's how it played out:

Yikes. I've talked about how anxiety made the last year much harder for me, as well as how it knocked my entire life out of balance (if looking at how I spent my time isn't enough of an indicator, I don't know what is) but there's another factor sending my mind into a frenzy that I need to address.

My space.

My apartment.

Why can't I work in my apartment?

One way I lowered my anxiety over the past few months was by keeping work at work. I wouldn't leave until I was done planning for the next day, hoping that I'd stop thinking about work when I got home (at 7pm, most nights.) And it worked, sort of... 

I still didn't make dinner. I still didn't go on walks. I still didn't relax. My space didn't calm me down, it didn't help me unwind. Part of that, I'm sure, is because when I wasn't worrying about work, I was worrying about a thousand other, very important things. I didn't make everything outside of work as low-stress as possible. Everything felt like a burden. So I continued in my routine of guilt-sleep-repeat.

I'm sick of coming home just to sleep. I want my space to welcome me. To energize me. To make me happy. Actively happy. 

Step 1: Make it beautiful. (i.e. decorate it with things that make me happy, and keep it clean)

I'm going to go knock out some challenges from UFYH while I listen to This American Life. When I feel frustrated, I'll use smallrooms to pump me up. 

(One thing at a time.)

Paint Time

First thing I did when I got home from work is paint my #1 wild-haired crush. 

Here's what the final version looks like up above my dining table! A solid reminder while I read in the mornings--it pumps me up for my day! 

The photo frame is from IKEA ($4, 13"x18")

The wilting flowers are from Trader Joe's ($4 when they were fresh a week ago) 

Lemon Veggies

6-ingredient dinner tonight: asparagus, sweet peppers, lemon, turmeric, coriander, and salt.

Goes well with lotus tea :)

Relax, Already

I love coffee. I love everything about coffee. I don't redeem my punch cards to get free coffee, I use it to get barista lessons at Fair Trade.

But, now, I am choosing water instead.

I'm not "giving up" coffee. I'm not even "reducing my coffee intake." I know my brain. If I actively try to avoid it, I will drink it every day. I get the "idea" of coffee in my head sometimes, and my neurons go "YES. enjoyable drink. Now. Yes." So I go to Dutch Bros, even though I don't really want it. And, the next morning, l solemnly empty my half-full cup into the sink.

Last week, I wrote about the trap I fall into when I'm trying to change my habits, and this is no different. If I try to deny myself coffee, I will inevitably justify why it's not that bad while I run downstairs to a cafe.

But I'd rather drink water.

Reasons I'm choosing H2O:

1. Coffee induces anxiety (because of the caffeine) 
2. I actually don't drink enough water. And coffee is dehydrating. Yikes.

Last month, while I was teaching--straight up in front of the class up at the whiteboard holding a marker in my hand--I passed out. Thankfully, my students caught me, brought me water, and gave me a granola bar (they're sweethearts!) The doctor told me it was a combination of dehydration, stress, and exhaustion. I spent 4 hours at the hospital hooked up to an IV and watching Tangled with Madhu and a 6-year-old boy, feeling more refreshed than I ever have before. I felt so much better when my body was fully hydrated, and I want to keep it that way.

I keep a big jug of water with sliced lemons and cucumbers in my fridge. But when I want a little bit more flavor, I turn to these:

1. Mango Kombucha: As much as the name "Synergy" drives me crazy, this is a pretty delicious drink. Kombucha is a fizzy, fermented tea that's big in the health food world, but there's actually no scientific evidence that it slows aging or improves the immune system. I drink it because it tastes good. This is the less-concentrated version, so it doesn't have the strong vinegar-y taste "pure" kombucha drinks supposedly have (I haven't tried them.) It tastes like mango juice mixed with Perrier.

2. Coconut Water: I'm not picky about brands; I get what's cheapest (Vita Coco happened to be on sale while I was at Safeway.) I've loved coconut water since I was a little kid so I'd drink it for the taste alone, but the electrolytes certainly help. 

3. Lavender Kombucha: Tastes like a bouquet in your mouth. Mixed with Perrier.

4. Tazo Tea: I love everything about tea. These specific kinds are all decaffeinated, so I can drink them to my heart's content :) 

Here's to staying hydrated through the Arizona summer! 

Perfectionism

I am a perfectionist. Maybe you are, too. Maybe you, too, find it hard to "relax" about work. Maybe you, too, take longer than your peers to complete the same tasks because you want to kick it up just one more notch before setting it down. 

School is an easier arena for perfectionists. You can sustain yourself with short bursts of energy and work yourself to the bone, because in a few months, you'll start over. Semester-long sprints, then vacations. Sprint, and rest. Sprint, and rest. 

I never learned how to run marathons.

Perfectionism is great if you also have self control. Which, I've learned, I don't. Instead, I have competitiveness. And that's a toxic combination.

I bite off more than I can chew. Always. This inevitably leads to one of two things:

• Things (or people) get neglected, and I feel awful.
• I mentally implode and hide from the world for a few weeks and wallow in sadness.

(Sometimes both.)

I don't know how to exist as a perfectionist in the real world. I get evaluated by my administrators, sure, but I don't get grades. There isn't really a "winner" anymore. 

Post-school life feels like I'm learning how to walk all over again. 

I was recently reading Laryn Evarts' business model, where she explains that she wanted to pick one thing and be really good at it before even thinking of expanding her company. Makes sense for a business.

Makes sense for life.

I'm not opposed to jumping into things before I'm ready, because that's how I learn best. Besides, no amount of preparation ever makes me feel ready, so I'll be waiting around forever if I wait until I feel ready to take on something new. But the crucial thing here, is to do it one at a time.

One. At. A. Time. 

Pick one thing to jump into. Become really good at it. 

Only then should I consider "expanding" into something new.

So... don't decide to start a new, difficult, high-stakes career AND learn how to do all your own chores for the first time AND move in with your boyfriend AND go to graduate school AND try to make positive lifestyle choices like eating better, exercising, less "screen" time, etc.

Because I really only have the stamina to be good at one thing. I chose the first.

I want to learn how to pace myself because I care about how well I run this race. I don't want to end up vomiting all over the sidewalk after 15 minutes.

And it's not about doing one thing at a time (who's that one-dimensional?) It's about choosing one thing to work on, and making everything else as easy, low-stress as possible.

Banana-Apricot Cake

I couldn't wait to get home today because I'd been daydreaming about this cake all afternoon.

4.8/5 stars with THIRTEEN HUNDRED REVIEWS?!??

Please. Get. In. My. Mouth.

It's super easy to make, but it takes about 3 hours! Plan accordingly :) I tweaked it a little bit (I used a different frosting, and added a few flavors to the cake itself.) Here's what I did:

Ingredients

• 3/4 cup butter
• 2 1/8 cups white sugar
• 3 eggs
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 3 cups flour
• 1.5 tsp baking soda
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1.5 cups buttermilk
• 2 cups mashed bananas
• 2 tsp lemon juice
• 2 tbs ground coffee <<--tweak
• 2 tsp cardamom <<--tweak

1. Preheat oven to 275°F (I know that sounds really low, but it's part of the process!)

2. Mix mashed bananas with lemon juice, and set aside.

3. In a medium bowl, mix the flour, baking soda and salt. Set aside.

4. In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then stir in vanilla. Beat in the flour mixture alternately with the buttermilk. Stir in banana mixture. Add the ground coffee and cardamom. Stir.

5. Bake in preheated oven for 1 hour, or until it passes the toothpick test.

6. Remove from oven and place directly into freezer for 45 minutes. 

For the frosting, I blended together apricots and cool whip! Decorate with more apricots, and you're good to go! You can see Cindy Carnes' original recipe here.

The Morning Narrative

Sunlight is awesome. I can be so productive when it's sunny, but if it's dark outside, I get nothing done. I can't think of a single time in my life when I haven't pushed my bed against a window so that I could wake up to the sun every morning.

Well, that's a lie. I can think of now.

I love my apartment, minus the bedroom. It faces the hallway, so there are no windows.

I basically sleep in a dungeon.

(You can imagine how hard it is to wake up.)

Most days, I wake up with this disgusting feeling--guess I better roll out of my dungeon because I have to go to work, yippee...

Not the best way to start your day. And, for me, I noticed that it set the tone for how I approached anything else for hours. I was worried. I was cynical. I was this hollow shell of a human being trying so, so hard to complete tasks despite feeling grumpy.

(via tyleroakley)

During the winter months, I started meditating in the mornings to help alleviate anxiety and give me the motivation to actually go to work (I highly recommend UCLA's guided mediations.)

I've noticed I'm feeling better now, because of the sun. But the morning narrative is still the same... I just don't feel as awful because of it.

I still don't want to get out of bed.

I want to change my first thought from "ugh, I have to--" to "hey, I get to--" because I think it'll set my thoughts up in a more positive cycle. I don't want to start my days numbly checking things off a to-do list.

I'm talking about #15 in this article.

I can't wake up because I want to go to work. I've tried ways to want to go to work in the mornings, and it's not going to happen. I need something else. Exercise seems like the most obvious option, but I know that's not going to happen right now either. Maybe someday I'll be the type of person who goes for a morning jog, but I can already imagine the excuses I'm going to make at 4:45am. I need something I already like. Something I can do no matter the weather, season, or location.

(If you, like me, feel uncomfortable dismissing exercise as a morning routine because it sounds "like something you should do," just remember that the goal is to make it easier to wake up, not harder! You, like me, can figure out how to become a morning jogger as a separate goal.)

Here's what I've been doing over the past couple of weeks:

I wake up and drink some juice (this cup is full of lavender kombucha.) I read a book for 15 minutes. (And I don't touch my computer!)

I'm really enjoying this so far! I don't hit the snooze button anymore and I feel much calmer throughout the day.

Got any ideas? What gets you out of bed?

The Sex Lives of Cannibals, by J. Maarten Troost

If this book was written today, J. Maarten Troost would be the 20-something, buzzfeed-scrolling, directionless, loan-burdened graduate that (unfortunately) is a mascot for my generation. He decides to move to Kiribati with his girlfriend, and writes stories about his time on a tiny island with interesting people.

(Here's Kiribati on google maps, if you're curious about its middle-of-nowhere-ness)

Troost has been criticized by some about his arrogance, and some have gone so far as to compare him to Tucker Max. I've read books by both, and I couldn't disagree more. What keeps this story from becoming a Tucker-Max-ego-trip is that Troost actually changes.

I know, I know, character development is such a basic component of a good story, Troost isn't blowing any minds by doing this. But I think you have to be a reflective, authentic person to, well, grow. And good travel writing comes from people who aren't just open to change, but also recognize how and why they are changed. Easier said than done. 

Troost is an arrogant American who moves to the Pacific and, I think, is humbled by his experience. The book is funny, and intended to be so, but it's clear that Troost isn't "making jokes." He's a good observer, and can present these observations in an entertaining way. I enjoyed reading about his conversations with the locals, his reflections on his own insecurities, and the history of the place he called home, if only for a little while. 

One passage in particular stuck with me. Here, he and his girlfriend, Sylvia, have just returned from fishing in the ocean for the first time with two local fishermen: 

We hoped this storm marked the end of the drought. 

"Just think of it," I said to Sylvia. "Full water tanks." 

"Provided that the water actually gets into the tanks," she said dryly.

Sylvia still had little faith in my fixing abilities. But I was confident. I had spent hours clearing the roof and gutters of leaves and nettles. I had, very ingeniously I thought, used the materials at hand to plug the holes in the gutter--plastic lids and an extremely valuable roll of electrical tape. 

"Don't worry," I said, "I'm a Dutchman. And Dutchmen know how to channel water." 

"You're only half-Dutch," Sylvia noted, "and you left Holland when you were six."

"It's an innate knowledge. We're water people. Soon, you'll be able to wash your hair guilt-free."

"Twice a week?"

"Twice a week. I promise."

We paused to listen. It was an angry storm.

"I'm glad we're not on the boat now," she said. We pondered for a moment what it must be like for Beiataaki and Tekaii, sailing through the black darkness of a starless night, the ocean a violent maelstrom, rogue waves unseen. And then we went to sleep.

Tea Tree Toner Tabs

I started writing this post about all the different Tea Tree Oil products I use and love (it's the smell I crave, more than anything) but realized I had enough to say about these little toner tabs that they deserve their own post!

Have you heard about tea tree oil? Quick run-down if you're unfamiliar:

Tea tree oil is an Australian plant extract that:

1. Is an antiseptic and antifungal treatment
2. Treats acne (works as well as benzoyl peroxide, and doesn't burn your skin!)
3. Disinfects skin to speed up healing

(Awesome, right?)

I would sooner pick a favorite child than a favorite Lush product (easier said since I'm not a mother, I guess) but these toner tabs are in my top 3.

Tea Tree Toner Tabs

(photo from Lush)

Here's how I use them:

• Steam Facial: Heat a cup of water until it boils. Toss in half a tab and let it dissolve. Hold your face over the mug for 3-5 minutes (throw a towel over your face if your skin isn't too uncomfortable from the heat!)The vapor smells amazing, and the heat will allow the oil to disinfect deep into your pores! 

• Epsom Salt Substitute: I soaked my foot in epsom salt while it healed from a staph infection a few years ago, and now I pop a couple of tea tree tablets in the bath every now and then--they work just as well as epsom salt, and make my skin feel a lot smoother afterwards!

• Acne Treatment: Thankfully, I don't break out nearly as much now as when I was 14, but my skin definitely isn't eternally zit-free. I got this idea when some of my friends talked about a baking-soda paste she makes to treat her acne. I do the same thing, but with one-fourth of a crushed up tab. I add enough water that it turns into a fizzy paste, dab it on, and wash it off after it dries. Works wonders!

Get them here!

Sunday Sugar

I'm an unfit farmer because I'd eat all the profits and play with the animals all day.

Paper Over Pixels

Reading and I have a complex relationship. When I was little, I hated how solitary reading felt. I liked reading aloud because it felt communal, but a quiet evening to myself with a book was not my ideal time.

Here, let me explain:

I do like stories. A lot. But reading them... from a book...? silently? For hours?? Eh.

I read in small chunks. When I need a break from working, I read the news, look through art blogs, read webcomics, etc. They're short and sweet, and--most importantly--justifiable. I don't feel guilty taking a 5-minute break to read an article (as if it ever ends at five minutes.)

Besides, it doesn't make sense to read a book for five minutes. What good will reading a few pages do? There's no closure!

But why don't my internet-breaks ever end at 5 minutes?

Something about microblogs pauses my brain, but doesn't relieve it. I'm not completely present when I read things online. Think of worries as needles. Each worry is an individual, sharp prick. Reading things on the internet gives me something to look at while they prick me, but reading from a book feels like taking those needles out, if only for a while.

I learned this last summer, during my month-long teacher-boot-camp. I read (and finished!) The Glass Castle during my commute, and it was the only mental break I had. I know that. I remember that. And I don't know why I still chose pixels over paper for much of the school year.

Reading from a book feels like an actual break. Even for 5 minutes.

And for someone who struggles with anxiety as much as I do, it has become an indispensable remedy.

The Gap

Teaching is an extremely creative, extremely frustrating field. Every day, I have an opportunity to create and implement new things with the added benefit of a guaranteed audience. Yes, there's grading, paperwork, and meetings, but the majority of my day is spent trying to help students understand something they might not know yet, in the best way I know how.

But the most frustrating part of my job isn't the paperwork. It's not the grading. It's not the meetings.

It's the opportunity to create.

There just isn't enough time to think of, plan, and implement a creative math lesson every day. Because there's the paperwork. There's the grading. There's the physical exhaustion of being on your feet all day. There's the occasional mental block. There's the laundry.

It'd be one thing if I couldn't tell that what I said was too wordy, or that their activity wasn't focused enough, or that it was too vague, boring, slow, fast, what have you.

But I can tell. And that makes me feel like I'm not working hard enough ("this clearly wasn't my best") which, then, makes it hard to work at all ("what's the point?")

I recently heard an interview by Ira Glass that helps put things in perspective:



I've spent the past nine months in the following cycle: work, nap, eat, worry, sleep, and repeat. I spent such a disproportionate time thinking about work, that I began neglecting everything else.

And that's not how I want to live.

It's time to grow up.