The older I get, the less I understand how to live.

I have to admit that I'm sad to bid farewell to a year that has most of the country screaming "good riddance." 2009 has been one of my best years ever: the year I got my first real job (I can't imagine working for a better company), the year I moved to the first city (outside San Luis Obispo) I've really felt at home. I never imagined it was possible for things to change so much in a year.

Every year our neighbors (in Encinitas) have a pancake breakfast on New Years morning. Since I was living at home at this time last year, I accompanied my parents as we walked down the street. We were almost at the house where delicious steaming stacks of pancakes, fruit, real maple syrup, and scrambled eggs were waiting, when another middle-aged couple fell into step with us and introduced themselves. Making friendly small-talk, they asked me What I Do.

This was one of the lowest points in my life. I had no job, no plans for the future, and was living at home in a town where I felt out of place and had no friends. I couldn't bring myself to admit these things for the thousandth time - even to myself. And I realized I would have to face dozens of other people asking me the same question at the breakfast. Suddenly I couldn't breathe.

"I can't do this" I mumbled to my parents. And before they could react, I turned and ran all the way home - my footsteps matching time with my racing heart.

What a difference a year makes. Here's to a happy and healthy 2010 - especially to those who were bruised by 2009.

Deep in Bear Country

I'm reading Stan and Jan Berenstain's autobiography. It's kind of awkwardly-written, but the most interesting aspect is their unique insider's perspective of Dr. Seuss. I never knew he was such an indispensable in their writing process -- I mean he practically wrote their first book (The Big Honey Hunt). After acquiring an agent, the agent sets them up with a group headed by Ted Geisel. Their portrayal of this opinionated (but usually spot-on) zany curmudgeon is really the highlight of the book so far. After the release of that first title, Mr. and Mrs. B. are eager to write more about the bear family, but while swigging bullshots (beef bullion + vodka) Ted Geisel urges them to avoid a series ("there are already too many bears"). Thankfully for us all, people loved Papa Q. Bear and "Small Bear" so much that Dr. S. was forced to acknowledge that they should continue down that sunny dirt road.I got sidetracked looking for a picture to include here. Google "Berenstain Bears" for some hilarious results. There are dozens of new titles out I hadn't seen, including a bizarre bunch like The Berenstain Bears and God Loves You!, The Berenstain Bears and the Big Question, and The Berenstain Bears Say Their Prayers. What the hell?

Snow-capped mountains from my window!

My before-bed reading right now is The Summer Book by Tove Jansson, and it's making me dream of Finnish islands in the summertime...

P.S. After I wrote this, I saw this picture-perfect Swedish island wedding on A Cup of Jo. Wow.

Frost

It's amazing. I can't stop staring at it and watching it glitter and crunching it with my toe.

This weekend has been good to me (besides the waking up in the afternoon, which infuriates me but I continue to do).

Yesterday I headed over to a book launch party for one of our cookbooks, Flying Apron's Gluten-Free & Vegan Baking Book. The Flying Apron Bakery is an adorable bakery in the Fremont neighborhood. Owner (and author) Jennifer Katzinger is one of the sweetest and most genuine people I've ever met. Here she is signing books.

I met Andrea there (she isn't supposed to eat gluten, loves the bakery, and bakes all the time, so I'd told her about the baking book when when we were living together last summer).

Next door, we discovered an amazing used bookshop, complete with a winding staircase underground and two shop cats.

Afterward, I bought some coffee and strolled along the Fremont bridge.

Looking West

And East, to the Aurora Bridge.

I also discovered an amazing (and relatively cheap) antique shop that's only open a few days a week. Unfortunately they were closing when I got there, but now I know where I can find old matchbooks/photos/greeting cards/teapots/Playboys/tea towels/vintage clothing/typewriter ribbon.

My treasure-hunting continued at Goodwill, where I got two vintage skirts, a book, and a polaroid camera for $11. Now, my love affair with Goodwill is a whole other entry that you will read about soon.

But first I have to go to my book club and somehow figure out how to turn off the heat in my apartment. Finally turning it on was a huge mistake because now it refuses to go away and I hate the thought of the energy being wasted when I'm not here. Plus, it's 40 degrees outside and I'm sweating. That's not right.