If you've described one festival, you've pretty much described them all.

I had pint sized expectations going into the Global Winter Wonderland event at Turner Field, but it was a refreshing little surprise. International decor illuminated every corner; there were food stands serving dishes from all over the world, carnival rides, circus acts, acrobats and probably more that I didn't get around to seeing.

I'm also impressed by how well my iPhone 5s camera did in the dimly lit setting, since this is the first time I've really used it at night. Atlanta's skyline was gorgeous from the top of the ferris wheel, so I'm glad I was able to do a piece of it some digital justice.

And that's really all I have to say about that, because if you've described one festival, you've pretty much described them all.

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An uneventfully festive few days

Christmas Eve was supposed to be spent doing laundry. My hamper is still full. It didn't happen. Who knows when it will. Thankfully I got to sleep in and lounge around all morning before heading over to my mom's place. To my surprise, she wasn't there when I showed up, so I sat around in front of the space heater with my iced coffee, watched a couple movies and waited for her to show up. By the time she arrived, it was almost time for me to head to church for the Christmas Eve gathering (read: service), so we talked for a few minutes and I dipped off into the sunset. Passion City was completely packed (people lined up outside waiting for the doors to open), and I ended up watching the message from the lobby with the other doorholders (read: volunteers).

Later that evening, Meredith came over for our gift exchange, and we spent the rest of the night talking, sipping wine, eating pizza and catching up in general. Christmas morning was supposed to be spent sleeping in, again, but the Merry Christmas calls came rolling in around 8am so I dragged myself out of bed and made my way to the couch. It's been a LAZY few days, and my eating habits aren't exactly contributing to my overall health, so a cleanse of some sort is definitely in the works for the new year. Nothing extreme. I don't have the patience to juice all day, but it's time to get my sweet tooth in check.

Anywho, around 8am, I dragged myself out of bed, heated up some leftovers from the day before, found a few good movies to watch and plopped a spot on my couch (insert selfie here above). Moms cooked dinner so I went back over to her place for our gift exchange and more quality time. Yadda yadda yadda, long story short, it's been an uneventfully festive few days, but nonetheless, I'm still grateful for them. I'm also grateful for the turkey burger that got in my belly for lunch today. Dear God, thank you for blessing me with the mouth to devour the aforementioned turkey burger, and thank you for the girl in the back who so diligently prepared the aforementioned turkey burger. It hit all my hunger spots. Amen.

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According to my server, it's pronounced "Fuh".

 

It seems like every other week I'm on the search for a different type of food to satisfy an intense craving.  A while back, I wrote about my hunt for a well-blended açaí bowl, and I once drove 30 minutes out of the way (on my lunch break) for the perfect chili dog. This is where I start shaking my head and feeling sorry for my future husband when it comes time to deal with my pregnancy cravings. If they're even the least bit worse than my regular cravings, that man's got his work cut out for him.

Lately I've been wanting a good bowl of Pho, a dish I've never had and wasn't even sure how to pronounce. To my delight, Scoutmob was offering a special at a spot down the street from my office building, so there was no need for me to drive around town (but I would've if I had to). As soon as lunchtime hit, I grabbed my jacket and made my merry little way to Com Dunwoody Vietnamese Grill, and that bowl of Pho hit every spot I could've asked it to hit. Oh, and according to my server, it's pronounced "Fuh". They didn't honor my Scoutmob discount because I opted for the lunch special, and it was already heavily discounted - and worth every penny. Served with a side of Spring Rolls, my meal had me feeling satisfied AND healthy, so I ran around the corner for a treat to tickle my sweet tooth.

Nom.


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'Twas the week before Christmas

... and all through the hood, not gift had been bought, but it was all good. Because if there's one thing I know about Disa Chantel, it's that she procrastinates, and she does it well.

After a failed attempt at hanging a string of lights on my patio [only to find that one of the sets doesn't light up and the other isn't long enough to make any kind of festive impression], I started looking through old holiday pictures. Only, I couldn't find any. At least none from recent years. Except for this one, taken on the day of my college graduation a few years back.

I love my people. I really do.

There have been so many beautiful Nelson Mandela posts floating around the web since his passing that I had trouble choosing just one to post here. So I decided to post three. I seriously thank God for the figures that have come before my generation and helped make all my opportunities a reality. I also eagerly await the release of his bio epic, starring my man Idris Elba in the title role.

December 10th marks the day I became overwhelmed by the fact that I have to do Christmas shopping this year. As an unmarried woman with zero kids, I fully expect to only ever have to buy a present for Moms come December 25th, but there are all these incredibly wonderful people in my life who continue to ask what's on my wish list, which means they're plotting to get me something, which means I have to add them to my shopping list, which means there's now all this pressure to find something special. Receiving gifts is easy; giving them is the hard part, and I take pride in my gift-giving abilities. Picking out that perfect something takes some real thought, but that's not all that counts, because when you receive a handpicked present from a friend, it always stands as a subliminal test of how well that person knows you.

I once had an ex-boyfriend buy me chocolates for Valentines Day. A little bit of background info: I don't like chocolate. White chocolate? Sure. Caramel? Give me all of it. Standard, Forrest Gump box of chocolates? NO. He had never seen me eat any, ever. And here he shows up at my front door with a teddy bear and a box of candy that went straight into the trashcan after he left. I had previously mentioned (multiple times) how I don't much care for chocolate, and if he had bothered to think about that purchase before he made it, I wouldn't've had to throw away an otherwise perfectly good gesture of his affections. That's the worry that creeps in while I'm out shopping for someone. Even my own mother. What if s/he doesn't like it? If s/he doesn't use it, it's a waste of my money, and I'll have cool points knocked off my friendship score. Not literally, but here I am - years later - still remembering that time a boyfriend bought me chocolate for Valentine's Day. In hindsight, I do so very much appreciate the fact that he tried, and almost got it right, but almost doesn't count. I don't like not getting it right.

I love my people. I really do. But it would be much easier if we could all just gather 'round a bottle of wine and call it Christmas.

Mom (who just creepily texted me as I typed 'mom'...) has decided she wants a new laptop this year, and apparently I'm Santa Claus. I told her I'd have to double check my naughty list and make sure she's in the clear, but I already know I'll be in a Best Buy frenzy with the rest of the last-minute shoppers. What do laptops even retail for these days? I haven't bought one since college, and that Macbook is still getting the job done.


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It was all a dream

This is the part of the program where I'm supposed to upload photos of all the holiday fun I just had. Except I hardly took any pictures. My camera stayed tucked away in my overnight bad all weekend like a side piece, and I did this crazy thing where I actually enjoyed the moments spent with my family instead of trying to document everything. The two photos above are from the ride into/out of Nashville, a place of which I've taken plenty pictures... so I don't really need more. We rode into town on Friday afternoon, stopped by my favorite spot for their fried pickles [shoutout to Wildhorse Saloon], grabbed some hot chocolate and proceeded to walk around downtown. Once the sun started to set, we headed to my brother's spot and hibernated with movies and popcorn for the next two days. It was a nice, low-key weekend, but now I wish I would've at least had some unsuspecting stranger at the grocery store snap a family photo. Ah well, there's always next time.

On another note, December is here, and this is when I usually start seeing "next year will be my year" tweets and posts. Can I just make every year my year? After taking a look at my new year's resolutions from January [yeah, I made some], I realize why so many people don't even waste time writing a list. The only one I kept was my decision to write more often, which is good, I suppose, but there were many more bullet points that fell into oblivion. Like how I was supposed to start playing my guitar again and be ready to go caroling this holiday season. yeah, caroling. I was also supposed to have visible abs.

*Biggie Smalls voice* it was all a dream.

On yet another note, I'm still in shock about Paul Walker's passing. He was soooooooo fine! Those eyes, that smile. Sweet God, you showed your craftsmanship with that one. It's such an ironic shame that he left this earth the way he did. My friend called me late Saturday afternoon when it was just a rumor, and the second he said "Have you heard anything about Paul Walker dying?" my heart dropped a little bit. It was like I actually knew him. About an hour later, every social media outlet was flooded with updates, and his Instagram follow count tripled. Did I mention how fine he was? The crazy thing is, they were just around the corner from my subdivision filming the next movie in the Fast series, now what? You can't replace Paul Walker after 6 movies. You. can't. That's one moment from this past weekend that I really do wish was a dream.

Rest in love, Paul.

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