“I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” --L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

Let me start with two quick notes. 1. I didn’t mean to go so long without updating. I just got lazy, which really isn’t much of an excuse. But blogging regularly does take some discipline, which I haven’t seemed to acquire just yet. I’m working on it. I will do my darndest to update with much more frequency.

2. I started this post about a month and a half ago, and it’s all about fall. Since we are now in the Christmas season (yay!), I realized that this post will start to sound really out of place (if it doesn’t already) if I hold off any longer. So here you are!

Now, onto the writin’ stuffs.

Vote.

I am dating a man who is a British citizen, but grew up with a passion for American football, and immigrated to this country in order to pursue his dream of coaching. He received his MBA in the U.S., and has spent the last 10 years working as a collegiate football coach. But his job is about much more than the sport. He has helped hundreds of young men attend college, when without his recruiting, they might not have ever had the chance. He has guided them through financial aid and the application process, giving them an opportunity that too many young students in this country don't have access to. He has served as a mentor to these young men—guiding them both on and off the field. He trains these athletes to be leaders, teammates, and to put everything they have into everything they do. He works 80 hours per week during the football season, and almost as many out of it.

As a resident of the United States, he pays taxes, he abides by the laws set by our government, he contributes to the economy, and quite honestly, he does more to contribute to society than I, an American citizen, do. He's an amazing person, and someone our country should be proud to welcome.

The Best Damn Cupcake I've Ever Eaten

Living in SoCal is dangerous. But I'm not talking about gangs or road rage or murders or that kind of danger. I mean that within a 1 mile radius of my apartment, there are more restaurants of every variety I can think of than I've ever had access to in my entire life. More than one should have access to.

It's dangerous because I now not only have a cupcake shop I like (something I didn't have before in the Midwest), but I now have a favorite cupcake shop. Meaning there are multiple bakeries devoted solely to cupcakes and I have sampled enough of them to both feel like a complete glutton and come out with a favorite.

Dangerous.

Dangerous because I've been on a diet for the last 11 months or so, and I've lost 45 pounds so far, which is great and I'm crazy excited about it. I haven't done any crazy fad diet either... when people ask how I've lost the weight, I usually say, "I'm on the 'put less shit in my mouth' diet." 90% of the time, I'm really good and eat well and healthy and all that, but once in awhile, I just need a day where I say, "screw this" and then I go and get a cupcake.

Which, really, is what a healthy diet is all about right? Balancing the good with the occasional indulgence? Please agree, at least to make me feel better about these cupcakes.

This post contains the word "awkward." A lot.

I’m awkward. Chances are, you already know that. I mean, the blog is called Awkward Gal. And that’s for a reason. But I’m fully aware of how awkward I am—almost too aware sometimes, because then I fret about how awkward I am and that makes me even more awkward.

It’s a vicious cycle.

But one of my biggest weaknesses and confidence-deterrents is also a constant sort of amusement for me. Ask anyone that knows me and they’ll tell you that I have a pretty darn good sense of humor about all of my awkwardness. I’m not putting myself down by calling my blog “Awkward Gal,” I’m honestly in on the joke. (Also, note that I tried to call my blog Awkward Girl, but that was taken by someone who hasn’t updated in years. But isn’t “gal” a kind of awkward, out-of-date word? It fits.) I’m usually the first to call myself out when I do something awkward. I laugh about it—a lot.

But people I don’t know very well don’t know how to react when I call myself “socially awkward.” Their first instinct is always to turn on that consoling denial mode… “No you’re not! You’re totally not! You’re just – you’re not awkward!”

Hey. I get it. You don’t want to hurt my feelings. But really, I am. I’m awkward. I’m okay with it. You can be okay with it too. Laugh about it with me, tease me about it, call me out on it. I mean, don’t be cruel, obviously, I am rather self-conscious, but if I say something that’s slightly uncomfortable and follow it up with “well, that was awkward,” you can agree. I promise I won’t hate you for it.

Well, probably.

Reclaiming Cooking

A few weeks ago, I made mushroom and goat cheese quesadillas… which makes me sound way fancier than I actually am. I just had some leftover goat cheese on hand and didn’t want it to mold, and I adore mushrooms. There’s nothing that makes me feel like more “chef-like” than when I’m sautéing mushrooms in butter (mmmm… butter).

Yum.

Mushrooms + butter = fancy. Basic math.

Random Life Update Round-Up

I apologize for not posting a proper update in a few weeks. Initially, I didn’t update for awhile because I couldn’t think of any full-length posts. Then I decided I could just put a lot of little updates in one. Then, when working on that, I came up with another post idea. And then another. And then a fourth one. So now I have a bunch of unfinished, half thought-out blog entries.

But then I got busy and didn’t have a computer and so this update just sat, waiting to be completed and posted. So here goes… a completely random life update round-up. (It’s a little lengthy. I hope you don’t mind.)

A few weeks ago, Rich and I went to the San Diego Zoo, which was a blast and a half. I noticed that we were some of the only people there without kids, but then, well, this happened:

And this:

And I found myself getting just as excited as a bunch of the little tykes there and realized that maybe we did have a kid with us.

Me. It’s me. I’m the kid.

Delay!

I promise, some real posts are coming soon... I'm sorry for the delay! I don't have a functioning laptop at home, so I usually use Rich's, but he's been working crazy late, so I haven't been able to write.

A proper update is on its way, I promise!

While you wait, you can amuse yourself by clicking here and then hitting the "Random" button again and again and again...

Warning: A wee bit of angst ahead.

I freak out about a lot of things. A lot of normal-to-freak-out-about things, like earthquakes and my favorite shows being on the verge of cancellation and the impending zombie apocalypse, yes, but also a lot of ridiculous things.

Like when my curtains move and I’m convinced it’s a ghost, and not, you know, the wind.

Or like when I see a shadow move out of the corner of my eye and I’m convinced it’s a ghost and not, you know, my own shadow.

Basically, I have a lot of ghost issues.

Girl Power

The other night during the closing ceremonies of the Olympics, the Spice Girls made an appearance, and I got so excited that while showing off my dance moves and enthusiastically singing along, I punched my own glasses off my face.

I just wanted you to know that.

Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On.

Guys! Guys! Guess what!

No, I did not win a gold medal in Olympics watching... that's silly. But I'm flattered. No, this is WAY more exciting.

...

Ready?

...

I survived an EARTHQUAKE!!! TWO earthquakes, in fact!!! And I didn't even freak out or anything! In fact, I was actually pretty excited about them! Mostly because they were itty bitty and we didn't have to evacuate the building and stuff didn't fall off the walls or anything. If that had happened, I probably wouldn't be as excited. If that had happened, I'd probably be trying to find a way to move away from California. Far away.

Yup, this post is about the Olympics.

Sooooooooo, yeah. Hi. I’m not so great at these regular updates, I know. And I’m sorry about that. I am. But I’ve just been busy. Yes, really. Laying on my couch and watching the Olympics all day totally counts as busy. At least, it does in my book. There’s a lot of shouting at the TV and learning the rules of oft-ignored sports and guessing the judges’ scores involved. So yeah. Definitely busy.

In case you’re not already aware, I’m a bit of an Olympics freak. Or, well, I was, back when I could peruse articles about my favorite Olympians during the day and not accidentally read spoilers of the outcome of that evening’s events… thanks a lot, time delay. Urgh.

Awkward Moment of the Day

So almost every day (when I’m not feeling lazy or when it’s not terribly hot outside), I ride my bike to work. My bike is orange with pink and white polka dots and is pretty much the cutest thing ever, and I feel super adorable riding on it. Well, you know, minus the whole huffing and puffing and sweating part. That part’s not so great.

I wear my work clothes when I ride (because I don’t want my clothes to wrinkle… proper biking attire is definitely not worth wrinkled work clothes), and I wear skirts and dresses a lot. So to prevent any awkward flashing moments as I ride, I throw on yoga capris underneath… I pretty much look like I don’t know how to dress myself, but it works.

Note: I will still wear a black cardigan when I ride even when it’s 95 degrees out, because I don’t want my bra straps exposed… so basically, I worry about what my shoulders look like, but not at all about the hot mess going on with my skirt and yoga pants. I make no sense.

Olympic Time!

Happy Olympic Day!!!

Are you feeling Olympic-y today?! I sure as heck am!

I stayed up late last night making Olympic rings and banners out of construction paper, and I got up early this morning to make some Olympic cupcakes... because I'm awesome like that.

I'll post pictures of my Olympic-themed snacks later on :)

Enjoy the opening ceremonies!

What I Learned at Comic-Con

This past weekend, Rich and I hit up Comic-Con in San Diego! I’ve been wanting to go to Comic-Con for years and years and even tried to plan a trip a few years ago before discovering just how broke I was and couldn’t afford it. But when I moved to California 7 months ago, I immediately slapped Comic-Con on my “must-do” list. I snagged tickets back in February, and at 5:45 on Sunday morning, off we went!

First, let me just state that Comic-Con was AMAZING. It was probably one of the best days of my pop culture obsessed life. In the 8 hours that we spent at the convention center, we sat in on 3 TV show Q&A panels (for “Merlin,” “The Cleveland Show,” and “Sons of Anarchy”), wandered past a bunch of celebrity signings (more on that in a bit), and saw more insane costumes and mind-boggling clothing choices than I’ve ever dealt with at one time. We nicknamed it “Nerdoween” as in “Nerd Halloween.” It was freaking awesome.

You Can Take the Girl out of the Midwest...

So about 7 months ago, I moved from Michigan to Southern California (or SoCal, as it will henceforth be known in this here blog), and since I’m something of an oddity to my coworkers (both because I’m actually odd and because I moved from that faraway mystical land otherwise known as the Midwest), I frequently get asked how things here compare to my homeland.

First, let it be noted that I’m a Midwestern girl through and through, and I’m a fierce defender of my roots. Seriously—I get crazy defensive. So while I’m actually enjoying SoCal and I can totally see why people move here and never leave, it hasn’t totally won me over. I would love to someday return to the Midwest and its friendliness, changing seasons, and people who cross the street at a quick I-don’t-want-to-be-inconsiderate-since-you-allowed-me-to-cross-instead-of-running-me-over pace… but more on that in a bit.

An Awkward Welcome

Hey! Hi!

Oh, you’re not waving at me? No biggie, I’ll just pretend to wave at someone behind you! Now it’s totally not awkward!

Is my bright red face giving it away? You mean, I don’t look cool and collected even though I’m totally panicking inside?

Haha. Ha.

Ha.

Anyway, welcome to this new blogging venture of mine!