BFFs in Boston

My brain is beyond fried from job applications. Isn't that pathetic? I still have at least two more months of this (assuming I am employed very close to the move date). I could possibly have months upon months upon months on end of this. That thought is not happy or comforting.

Still, some things are really great these days. Last night we made the bagel dough from that wonderful book I told you about the other day. We haven't made any bagels yet, but I am eagerly anticipating the comparisons between these bagels and the ones we normally make.

So, I have loved baking my entire life and started out pretty early with peanut butter cookies. Sometimes if my brother was baby-sitting me (oh yeah, did you know we are 10 years apart?) then we would make chocolate chip cookies from scratch. He's really more of a brownie guy, so I'm not sure why we made cookies, but, I digress. Anyway, I worked my way up and tried baking many different things (my one real disaster was the infamous pumpkin pie of Thanksgiving 97) and cooking lots of food from scratch (still a huge passion of mine). I always wanted to make bagels and my mother told me that was a terrible idea. She told me that again when Nathan and I got married and moved up here. Well, you know what? I love baking bagels and she still thinks it's a bit silly, but she's glad it makes me happy. This new bagel recipe we're trying comes out at a cost of approximately 15 cents per bagel. Not bad, y'all, not bad--especially when you consider the bottomless pit I am married to.

Nathan and I had a really long middle of the night discussion the other night on where we want to be, individually and as a family, in five years. And do you know that my goals are not in the least career-minded? Seriously, my goals were all about my five year plan of grinding grains and making all of our food from scratch and whipping up natural cleaners and having babies with cloth diapers on them and all that jazz. Thankfully, Nathan supports this whole-heartedly. In fact, he thinks I should come home, so to speak, sooner rather than later because it would make me the most happy. How to accomplish this is now the big question. Nathan thinks I should write a book about newlywedisms and the new domesticity, but I think there is a lot of that out there already and I don't actually come up with anything new. I'm just really good at gathering information from lots of sources and putting it to work. Also, isn't writing books impossibly hard? I mean, not the writing, but the agents and getting paid and all that?

Y'all, career-wise I'm really not too sure what I want to do with my life. How did you figure this out? Did you fall into something or did you set out on a specific path and make it happen? These things I know:
1. I love to work.
2. I love to do about a million things (like baking, knitting, event planning, retail), but my favorite part of jobs is always the relationships. I don't necessarily become all long-term BFF with people (because, let's be real, if you aren't my family or have names that start with K or S then I have trouble staying in touch with you), but I do love entertaining people. I like to swap stories and find out about other people's lives.
3. I can sell almost anything to anyone.
4. I can be really passionate about products. I always wanted to grow up to be a Tupperware lady, but I am severely lacking in social capital. I would never sell makeup, so please don't email me asking me to become a Mary Kay lady.***
5. I think that I am really, really funny and make things more fun.

So, what to do, what to do? Lots of applying. Lots of waiting. Lots of thinking and praying and wishing and hoping, planning and dreaming to come.

***One time at a Mary Kay party when we had to fill out those info cards for them to be able to stalk you for the rest of your life, the rep had us write down how we felt about being a Mary Kay lady. We could either write 1) Sign me up!, 2) I need more information first, or 3) I would never become a MK lady even if my children were dying and being an MK lady is the only thing that would save them. You know what? I wrote down 3 and I felt bad for my imaginary children that I hated the thought of selling make up that much that I would let them die first. Yes, I know I have some irrational tendencies. I'm not still obsessing over it or anything.