Thanksgiving.

Here’s the thing: Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

Here’s why: it’s like Christmas, without the fluff. It is the one day a year when families come together with no selfish motives of getting gifts and solely focuses on spending time with one another. It’s about laughing, eating good food, sharing stories and (if you’re like my family) playing overly competitive games. It’s the most selfless, wholesome, comical, warm day of the year and I love it. This year we spent our thanksgiving at our cabin and it was nothing short of a winter wonderland.

Some highlights of this year’s thanksgiving:

-Hearing my great uncle admit in a conversation with my brother that he majored in “beer and girls… well, not so much girls, I guess just beer”.

-My great aunt brought half-burnt turkey candles, cute skinny candles with little wax turkeys molded into them. My mom regrettably informed her that we didn’t have any little candle holders. 20 minutes later she emerges with the candles wedged into Coors Light bottles. She proceeded to place them in the center of the table. (Must be where I get my classy creativity from)

-My aunt’s dog (named Muffin… who’s a boy) had more outfit changes than any member of our family… 2 different sweaters, a blanket, a rain coat and a winter coat.

- Watching my brother, cousin and friend take down 12+ rolls that they made into sandwiches at around 10 o’clock at night. I mean, who has room for 4 mini sandwiches after a thanksgiving feast?

- My cute, petite mom making a “sample plate” of every kind of pie... picture a large plate, full of pie. Then picture it, GONE. Then picture my mom, giggling. Perfect. For a little woman she really takes it down… one of my favorite qualities about her.

- The fact that we had 5 kinds of pie, three kinds of cookies, pumpkin muffins and banana bread waiting to greet us after our feast. (We do dessert right at the Hartman household).

 - My dog, Halle, decided that it was time to cuddle in the middle of the chaos. Cute.

If you’re like me, and most Americans, you wake up the day after Thanksgiving feeling so overwhelmed by the sheer volume of buttery, sugary, starchy, wonderful, heavenly food that you feel like no amount of exercise could compensate for the copious amount of food that you managed to intake in a 24 hour time period. But let’s get real… if you go on a run you’ll get a side-ache, if you do hot yoga you’ll throw up, it’s too cold to go on a hike and who wants to go to the depressing gym the day after Thanksgiving? Here’s the other thing, the day after thanksgiving is still a family day, at least for our family. So, you don’t want to be the crazy work-out-a-holic relative who spazzes out due to calorie stress. It’s the holidays. Relax. Take a deep breath. Then thank me for accidentally stumbling upon the solution to solve your problems. If executed correctly, sledding, snow man building, ping pong and caroling can be your answer to post-thanksgiving de-blotation.

For your viewing pleasure, and to make myself (and my parents) feel good about that Bachelor’s degree in Kinesiology, I have included the major muscle groups worked in each activity. You’re welcome.

1.     Snow Man Building.

Friday morning I woke up on a mission. After being couped up with a virus all week I wanted one thing in life:  bring Frosty to life. Not some measly, small, pathetic, meek looking snowman. I wanted a hearty, jolly, very large snow friend to be created, the kind that would be recruited as a linebacker by a PAC10 school.

Step 1: Find partner in crime. [I picked Katie Brister and she was a great choice.]

Step 2:  Plunge fearlessly into the knee-high snow. Show no weakness and stay focused. Rolled, pack, roll, pack, roll, pack until both parties have extremely large boulders of snow.

Step 3: Lift boulder 1 onto boulder 2. (Yes, we had to call in reinforcements for this part. I’m not proud of it.)

Step 4: Partner A repeats Step 2 in order to create the head while Partner B scours the yard for sticks, stones, wood chips and pine cones to create frosty’s apendages, clothes and facial expressions.

Step 5: Step back, look at your creation… and then kiss Frosty.

Muscles Worked: Quadriceps, Hamstrings, Gluteals, Hip Flexors, Calf muscles, Biceps, Triceps, Deltoids, Trapezius, Levator Scapulae.

[By the time Kate and I were done we had both shed two layers, hats, scarves, gloves and were dripping sweat. Workout 1 – complete.]

2.     Sledding.

Step 1: Hike up small hill.

Step 2: Sit in sled

Step 3: Pick up your feet

Step 4: Cruise down the small slope

Step 5: Laugh for an extended period of time wondering how it’s possible for a 4 second, 5 mph sled ride to be so enjoyable.

Step 6: Find cousin and attempt to pummel him with snow balls.

Step 7: Get white washed. Not technically part of the plan but, it happened.

Step 8: Laugh some more.

Muscles worked: Quadriceps, Hamstrings, Gluteals, Hip Flexors, Calf muscles, great core workout from laughing, oblique’s and full shoulder toning from throwing snowballs/trying to resist the white wash.

3.     Ping Pong.

Step 1: play ping pong.

That’s really all there is to it. And, for extra muscle tonage try lunging to the ball when it get hit off the table, and do multiple mini-hops when you win a point (great for the calves).

Muscles Worked: Hamstrings, Quadriceps, Calf muscles, gluteals.

4.     Holiday Caroling.

Step 1: Begin walking.

Step 2: Locate a gradual incline and stroll up it (anything more advanced can potentially cause side-ache.)

Step 3: Locate snow and run through it.

Step 4: Begin Singing.

Step 5: Let the “not gifted” singer take the lead… (in our case that was me). This leads to extra laughter.

Step 6: Laugh WITH lead singer… not at, with.

                                                [I would suggest Rudolf the red nose reindeer, frosty the snowman, we three kings, and silent night]

Muscles Worked: full body exercise. While some might disagree, walking actually works your upper and lower body as well as core.  

*Note: Full enjoyment of activities depends on two things. 1. The quality of people around you. 2. The amount of zest you choose to bring to your day. Luckily for me, I was surrounded by some of my favorite people in the world and (thanks to nyquill and amoxocillon) woke up with an extreme level of zest.  My post-thanksgiving day was one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.

 

Here are a few more reasons I love my family....

1. I love that I have a brother who puts up with me when I want to take pictures with him... or just of him.

 

...and we both have colorful eyes, the exact same as our parents...

...and, sometimes, he get's weird like me.

2. I love that my family is quirky and does things like this.

3. I love that my Mom is the cutest woman I know and takes such good care of those around her.

 4. And I love this place...

Goodbye, Fall.

Dear Fall,

As you come to a close and winter swoops in taking all of the pretty leaves away I would like to acknowledge a few of the high points that you brought to me this year. It has been a hard few months but you never failed to be crisp, beautiful and filled with warm beverages, lots of oversized sweaters, boots and some good memories. (I’m wearing a scarf, still in sweats, surrounded by tea and feeling a bit sappy, I blame it on the nyquill.) So, thank you fall, for these good times.

Love, Jamie

Pumpkin Patches: This year I went to the patch with a group of girls from my grad program. These three girls have single handedly gotten me through the first 6 months of graduate school. Without their sarcasm, homework advice, vent sessions, company doing endless hours of homework at Irwins and constant friendship I genuinely would have dropped out. Of course, my pumpkin carving turned out sub-par as usual, but this was a great day. Got legitimately lost in the corn maze, picked pumpkins, drank spiced cider and ate enchiladas.

Dinner at the Space Needle: Samantha was in town and we surprised her with dinner, one of the prettiest sunsets I have ever seen and a perfect night.

Cabin: This is our first fall at our new cabin and it is safe to say that I am obsessed with it. Floating the lake, volleyball, dirt bike rides, learning to shoot a gun, pretty hikes, near-death hikes (more to come on that), walks around Leavenworth.

Baking: This recipe may or may not have changed my life. Gluten-free and delicious.

[See:http://chocolatecoveredkatie.com/2011/05/31/deep-dish-cookie-pie/]

Tennis: I beat my brother in a game of 21. It’s the little victories that matter.

Coaching: I coached the most talented, funny, beautiful team of High School girls in volleyball this fall. They were the highlight of my year and got third at state.

Helping Link: I volunteered at Helping Link and got to spend 10 weeks with these kids. So. Funny.

WWKD: One of my closest friends Tina talked me into going to a Ke$ha costume party with her this fall. If you know me, you know that I don't really do costumes, or glitter, or copious amounts of hair spray, or crimpers or large gatherings of people that I don't know. But, I really love Tina. So there I was at her apartment, in sweats, hair in a pony and she transformed us into Ke$sha in about 15 minutes. Tina, I will happily be your "boy-friend stand-in" any time you want. What Would Ke$ha Do. [Side note: Never, ever throw cheap store bought glitter on anyone's head. In someone's costume excitement they hurled a whole tube of glitter on me while yelling "you sparkle!" and then did an awkward circular shimmy around me. The glitter proceeded to get stuck in my scalp and eventually stained it pink... one of my graduate professors asked what I had been up to that weekend when he saw the glimmer in my hair. Low. Point.] 

Movies: Footloose, Moneyball, The Help, One Day - Each wonderful in their own way.
Books: The Help, On the Corner of Bitter and Sweet – read them. now.

Dating Advice

My world currently consists of glasses, oversized sweats, aggressively dirty and baby powdered hair, copious amounts of tea with unhealthy amounts of honey, nyquill,  dayquill, slippers, Halle (my golden retriever), antibiotics and lots of disgusting throat clearing noises. I managed to ward off the dreaded November sickness that my family and closest friends had all gotten and then right when I got cocky about my immune system… boom. Fever, strep throat, random ear clogging. Awesome.

During a low point due to illness I decided to swing by our neighborhood Albertsons and grab a frozen pizza that just sounded divine. I used to frequent this grocery store during my year off from school when all I did was make sweet treats, watch lots of hallmark original movies, take naps, walk my dog and do yoga… looking back I had no idea how good I had it. The things I would do to have that life back. During that year I became friends with this cute, elderly foreign man named Vida who talks with a thick, gruff accent who works as a cashier. We would chat about my new recipes, when school started, my weekend plans, the weather – you know, all the important things in life.

On this freezing Tuesday night I made my way to his aisle and stood in line behind a middle-aged business man. When Vida saw me his face lit up and he said, “I was just thinking about you! I think I am psychic, I think of you and then you are here… it is like I beckoned you with my mind”. I awkwardly blush as the businessman looks at him like he is straight crazy and begins to fidget with his keys, doing anything to avoid eye-contact as he tries to figure out our weird relationship. When I finally get up to the counter he asks me where I have been and then interrupts my response and says, “you have found boy friend? Is that why you have not come to see me? Boyfriend is taking all your time?” I continue my awkward blushing and let him know that no boyfriend has been found.

[Side note, my mom already tried to set me up with some guy she met earlier that week AND a second grade boy from my class grilled me the previous day about why I didn’t have a boyfriend… it is literally like the perfect storm of intrusion on Jamie’s dating life]

Vida then decides that in all of his aged wisdom to share some dating tips with me, a clearly pathetic young soul in need of a little help.

Here is what he said.

“Jamie. Do you go out dancing and go parties?” I obviously reply… “not usually” (I’m a home-body, and I prefer cookies and movies to beers and bars…get over it). To which he obviously shakes his head and says “Jamie what DO you do on the weekends?” I tell him that I’m so exhausted from grad school on that on Friday I just want to watch a movie and curl up on the couch and then Saturday I have to do homework and…. He interrupts me and says, “you must go dancing. You need to meet boys and you meet no boys at home. You go dancing. Or if you must do homework you go flirt and meet boys at the library. Go meet boys at Suzzalo, you are grad student so you find boy grad student and make him boyfriend.” I am giggling at this point and tell him that I don’t think I send off the right “vibes” at the library… I regrettably inform him about my glasses, disheveled hair, oversized noise-reducing head phones, sweats and generally overwhelmed and frustrated and hopeless look on my face that I have at the library. Vida replies that “YOU TOO SERIOUS! You are young, you need to find man and have fun…. [then comes the real great advice]… Your standards are too high! I used to have high standards but then I had no girlfriend so then I lower my standards and have much fun!  You no need to be serious with boy, just find a boy and have fun. It be good for you”. Then Vida pauses as he looks at me and says, “you know what you need. You need be in right place at right time. I am psychic. So you just be at right place at right time and find good man.”

At this point in the conversation I’m slack-jawed and so thoroughly confused at why I send off these vibes that seem to say “hey, feel free to critic my life even if I don’t know you” and also confused why the cute old man just told me to lower my standards and become a little sleeze out on the town. So, in my disillusionment I just reply, “Ok, Vida, just tell me where I need to be and when I need to be there”. To which he cheerfully smiles and tells me I need to come visit him more often and he will find me boyfriend.

Ladies, if he happens to tell me where this magical time and place is I will let you all know. Until then, at least the cute old man remembers my name and cares about my personal life… cheers to singleness.

Country Music.

I have to admit that one of my favorite memories from childhood was curling up with my mom and watching the country music top 20 countdown. I have vivid memories of standing in front of the TV while we both tried our best to mimic Martina McBride's flawless arm movements during her timeless song "where would you be" (check it out - 1:24/3:30 have an epic lift http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4fRBLzffy5U). She had the ability to sweep that arm up towards the sky so powerfully and then swing it down at the perfect moment. Anyways... It is something we have done together for years but recently haven’t found time to do until last Saturday. Due to a series of unfortunate events I ended up on my couch home alone that night. I was trying to keep morale high by attempting to convince myself that it’s totally normal to be 23 and spend back to back nights alone in front of the TV. I decided to be productive and I managed to get a little homework done, lit some candles, drank some tea and watched a few movies on Netflix. My mom cruised in right around 10:30 when morale was starting to drop and seeing me sprawled out with my unwashed (but beautifully baby-powedered hair), no make up and in my PJ’s she timidly asked if I’d want to watch the countdown with her. That is what we did. Just like old times.

Tonight we are watching the CMA awards. I love country music. I love that it tells a story and has catchy lyrics. Sorry bout it. I thought I would share a few observations and thoughts regarding the production:

Luke Bryan: You are good at what you do and I like your song "shake it for me". But here’s the deal. Do yourself a favor and don’t try to shake it. Ever. Actually, it would probably be a good idea not to dance at all, especially not while standing on chairs. Also, don’t ever wear those tight and sparkly pants again. You’re a “cowboy”. You aren't allowed to wear sparkle skinny pants. 

Carrie underwood: You are beautiful, and probably the most charming person of all time. I have no idea how you had the energy to change 93 times in one evening, but you managed to look great in every outfit and you have Barbie Doll legs. Good for you.

Sugarland: You make a pathetic pouty face all the time. The Hartman family is over you.

Eric Church: Sunglasses inside? Really?

Lady Antebellum: You win. I love you.

Sara Evans:  Go back to you bucket of suds and stop trying to be sultry in your pants suit. You were so cute and lovable. Dark and bitter isn't a great look for you.

Taylor Swift: This is going to sound harsh, but I’m genuinely curious how you became famous with a mediocre voice. Don’t get me wrong, I can honestly sing every lyric to 90% of your songs and I am a huge fan but it is just a mystery to me. Also, I think I owned that pink knit sweater in 1997.

The Band Perry: I couldn’t be happier that you won so many awards.

On another note:

High point of my day: I walked out of class for the fourth time in order to stay sane and a cute, little classmate of mine was in the hall. She is a beautiful, slender, quiet girl who rarely talks up in class. We both noticed that there was a peanut MandM package hanging on by thread in the vending machine, looking like it was about to fall. I make the comment that it would probably fall out if someone hit the machine. Next think I know she is body slamming it but having no success. I start laughing – obviously – because it seems to be extremely out of character for her. I’m not over exaggerating when I say body slam. She took a few steps back, hugged her arms into her chest and legitimately threw her body into the machine. . Then, my good friend Kayla prances out of class to get water and finds the other classmate staring desperately at the MandM’s. They decide to body slam in unison and before I’m back in the classroom I hear them count to 3, run and hurl themselves at the machine. Obviously cheers followed as the MandM’s fell out. Bottom line, I have nothing but respect for their fearless and courageous effort to get the chocolate. I’m fully impressed.

I proceeded to get frozen yogurt, hang out with my best friend from high school, buy a retro UW sweatshirt, eat pizza and paint my nails. All of which were high points. Great day for me.

Low Point of my day: Spending an hour of class looking at sweet treat recipes on foodgawker.com (my new favorite website.. seriously, go look at it… now) and realizing that the holidays are going to be moderately depressing now that I’m allergic to gluten, eggs and corn and can indulge in none of the seasonal goodies.

Babies.

Confession: Babies scare me.
Riddle me this: some people can pick up anything under the age of 1 and something about the maternal way they embrace the little baby just causes it to nuzzle up in their arms. Safe to say I have not mastered this technique. They are so little and limp. Why can't they hold their heads up? How come some people perfectly cuddle them so their heads are supported, limbs are all tucked nicely and they look so cozy? Whenever I pick up a baby their whole body goes flaccid, limbs stick out at awkward uncomfortable angles, the head flops and their eyes get as big as saucers.
True story: I was recently at a funeral and one of my best childhood friends handed me her 4 month old and I proceed to hold it directly in front of me with my hands under its little armpits. My friend (and apparently 9 other people who found this amusing and later mocked me relentlessly) watched as I held this ridiculously small human like a sack of flour and it just dangled limply in the air until she put me out of my misery and swooped him up in that perfect maternal/nuzzle fashion. 
I've decided babies are like horses. They can smell fear so when they get in my arms they sense my lack of confidence and either go limp, spit up or start crying - all brilliant techniques to get back in Mom's arms. My failed attempts at being the cute girl holding the baby are literally innumerable. Oh, and to top it all off, I can not kick the habit of calling babies "it's".
Another true story: at that same funeral my friend proceeded to tell me that if her and her husband tragically die they are giving the baby to my brother. Of course I was instantly insulted but she just laughed at me as I started to make arguments for why I would take much better care of it. When I finally got done with my rampage she said, "Jamie, you just called Lincoln an "it" about ten times... there is NO way I am going to let you take care of him."


To all the babies I will one day meet, I apologize, it is not intentional. It's like something is loose in my brain and I can't recognize anything under the age of 1 as a boy/girl or person with a name.... it's just an it. 


However, there is one little thing that has captured my affections. My best friend recently had a baby and for some reason with Eliza Rain I am able to overcome my awkwardness and fear of injuring limp necks. Last night when I saw her  I came in hot and swooped her up into my arms all maternal style. Boom. Success. [Confession: Less than 2 minutes later she started crying and I handed her off to my mom who was googly-eyed and not so secretly letting me know she's ready for grandkids].


Cutest baby award goes to...

Eliza Rain Sayes. She doesn't cry, she's a little squeemish, her mom is my best friend and I am obsessed with this little thing. And look...

she likes me too! Thank you, Heidi and Dusten for bringing my first baby friend into the world.

Dear Blogging World

For years I have browsed you for recipes, craft ideas, health advice, fitness tips and movie reviews and secretly have always wanted to join your community. Unfortunately, due to my lack of internet skills, I found myself failing time after time when trying to get started…tumblr, blogspot, wordpress, create your own… how do you choose!

On a scale of one to overwhelmed blogging made me feel - overwhelmed.

On a scale of one to defeated I felt - defeated.

Awesome.

But, I found myself in a particularly stubborn mood tonight and after research and some consultation from blogging friends (who I envy) I decided on blogspot. This led to a two hour hunt for the perfect template which obviously failed and I ended up with my pristinely pathetic white masterpiece, which will do for now.

Hello blog. Let me introduce myself. I’m Jameson Hartman, 23-yrd-old graduate school student at the University of Washington pursuing my Master in Teaching.  I have a deep love for sweatpants and my life would be in a stage-four crisis without baby powder. Let me “unpack that” a little bit for you (unpacking is something we do at grad school, it’s all we do… all day.  We unpack everything. Unpack theories, unpack questions, unpack scenarios, unpack dilemmas… spare me).

Sweatpants.

I once calculated the percentage of my life that has been spent in sweatpants (I tend to geek out on things like calculations and percentages, I come from a lineage of math teachers, it’s not my fault) and I realized that over 73% of my sweet 23 yrs of living have been spent in sweats. Am I embarrassed? Not at all. I’ve never understood why anyone would ever wear anything besides sweats unless absolutely necessary. Ask my elementary friends, ask my high school classmates or grad school professors… they can all tell you how serious my sweats obsession is. I knew it had gotten bad when I walked into a class in college and was wearing flip flops, jeans and a v-neck T and my professor commented on how nice I looked and asked if I was going on a date. This was a sad reality, jeans and a baggy T had become “dressy” for me. Whatever. It’s ingrained in my DNA or something because I’ll go through trendy phases and try to dress like a diva but whenever I try to deny my inner scrub it always comes back. So, cheers to lululemon, nike and whatever brand made my velour navy blue sweats with the red stripe that I’ve had since seventh grade. I love you.

Baby Powder.

I used to wash my hair every day. I was that girl with the clean hair. Then I got to college and met Britt Stone who introduced me to baby powder. Ladies. Listen up. Baby Powder is God’s gift to those of you who don’t have time/energy/desire to shower and style your hair every morning. Baby powder soaks up all the oil in your hair while you sleep so in the morning… boom! Not greasy.

Here are some facts about baby powder:

Does it add a little volume? Yes.

Does it make your hair white? No.

Is the previous answer a lie? Kind of.  (some boy in class once asked me why I died my hair gray, slightly embarrassing … but that was just poor application on my part, the baby powder is innocent.).

Do I prefer it to fancy dry shampoo? Yes.

Does it decrease the time it takes it takes for me to get out of bed and out the door by almost 30%? Yes.

Is it gross that I sometimes work out, blow dry my sweaty hair, apply baby powder and then carry on throughout my day? Yes.

Do boys hate the smell of it? Yes (tell them to deal with it).

How many times a week do I wash my hair now? Two.

Are you jealous? Probably.

For those interested… Application instructions:

1.      1. Buy the small size baby powder (it’s easier to control the shake with the small one for beginners)

2.    2.  Stand in front of mirror with an open mind.

3.     3. Open the top so the holes are halfway visible.

4.     4. Hold the bottle 2 inches from your head and begin shaking with very small movements.

5.     5. Start by applying a thin layer to the top (it should be barely gray) and then flip your hair to the right side and apply to the layer between your ear and middle part and then repeat for the left, make sure you get near the scalp.

6.     6.Use non-shaking hand to block the powder from your face (this is an advanced move, don’t be discouraged if you don’t master it immediately)

Cheers to baby powder.

Well, there it is blogging world. I hope you accept me… I’m happy to be here. And I know my white blog design is boring, I’ll work on finding a computer nerd friend who will help me.

Love,

-Jamie