TRB: The Cheesecake that was Meh.

Last week I mentioned that I'd be reviewing Alton Brown's Sour Cream Cheesecake recipe. (FYI, I usually embed a link in the name of what I'm reviewing to the original post. But for those who want it, I will also begin posting the full url at the bottom of the post!)

Jared liked the pacman look.

Like almost everything I make, I had to adjust to make it apartment-sized. The recipe calls for a 9"x3" round. I have a 9"x2" round, so I shrunk the ingredients to match a bit.
So here's the breakdown:

Successes:

• It was cheesecake consistency. Always a good place to start.
• The flavor was good. Not the best, but definitely edible. A mild cheesecake, which could appeal to picky eaters.
• I liked the parchment paper lining idea. It could be a little on the tricky side to configure, but it made preparing and plating a breeze. It also rocks for those (like me) who lack a springform but still want that look.
• It was pretty easy to make.
• Jared really liked it. He ate most of it.

To Be Improved On:

• The flavor was very mild. It hardly had any of that delicious zangy cream cheese flavor to it. It almost tasted like I left the cream cheese out completely. 
• I know, however, that I did not leave the CC out because it was lumpy. I realize this is my fault, not the recipe's. I have been told that it results from not letting the CC soften enough. Is that true? Tell me what I did wrong in the comments, please.
• Crust wasn't as crispy as I liked it. I'll have to bake it longer next time. 
• Let's face it. It just wasn't mom or father-in-law's cheesecake. Sigh.

Will I make it again? Probably not. I'll beg Mom for her recipe first.

On another note, remember the pita? Sliced in half, topped with mozzarella, fresh cut roma tomatoes and green bell peppers, baked at 350 for 12 minutes. I made them for lunch and was in heaven. Jared came home and asked for his own. Score!

Next Time: SAD Light Therapy by Sphere

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/sour-cream-cheesecake-recipe/index.html

TRB: Cauliflower Crust Pizza

Today's recipe comes from Healthy Tasty Eats! and can be found here. But for simplicity, I'll copy it here, too:
Ingredients:
1 cup cooked, riced cauliflower
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
1 egg, beaten
1 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp crushed garlic
1/2 tsp garlic salt
olive oil (optional)
pizza sauce, shredded cheese and your choice of toppings. 
DirectionsTo "Rice" the Cauliflower:Take 1 large head of fresh cauliflower, remove stems and leaves, and chop the florets into chunks. Add to food processor and pulse until it looks like grain. Do not over-do pulse or you will puree it. (If you don't have a food processor, you can grate the whole head with a cheese grater).
Place the riced cauliflower into a microwave safe bowl and microwave for 8 minutes. There is no need to add water, as the natural moisture in the cauliflower is enough to cook itself. One large head should produce approximately 3 cups of riced cauliflower. The remainder can be used to make additional pizza crusts immediately, or can be stored in the refrigerator for up to one week.
To Make the Pizza Crust:Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Spray a cookie sheet with non-stick cooking spray.In a medium bowl, stir together 1 cup cauliflower, egg and mozzarella. Add oregano, crushed garlic and garlic salt, stir. Transfer to the cookie sheet, and using your hands, pat out into a 9" round. Optional: Brush olive oil over top of mixture to help with browning.Bake at 450 degrees for 15 minutes. Remove from oven.
To the crust, add sauce, toppings and cheese. Place under a broiler at high heat just until cheese is melted (approximately 3-4 minutes). Enjoy!Note that toppings need to be precooked since you are only broiling for a few minutes.

So I made this tonight, and it was actually pretty easy. A gal from my ward had posted it as a gluten-free alternative to pizza crust. Hubby and I aren't GF, but a crust made from veggies sounded pretty healthy. I used frozen cauliflower to start with. We don't have a food processor, but we do have a Salad Shooter, which I love. It "riced" the cauliflower beautifully. Once it was cooked, I threw it in with the mozzarella and seasonings, using Kosher salt instead of onion salt, and then tossed it with the beaten egg.
It was a warm gooey mess. Still, it smooshed nicely onto the cookie sheet, and crisped up pretty well around the edges. Jared suggests smooshing it onto a preheated stone instead, for a crispier crust all the way through. Alas, we do not have pizza stone.
Once you cook the crust, dress as desired. We spread ours with some garlic onion spaghetti sauce and just more mozzarella. We left it plain, otherwise, in a fit of uncharacteristic culinary laziness. It went back in under the broiler for two minutes, at which point my smoke alarm went off, alerting me that my pizza was done and my oven really needs to be cleaned.
The flavor of the crust was delicious. It almost had the texture of a crispy, cheesy, thick crepe. Our biggest qualm with this pizza was that it had...dare I say it...too much cheese. It almost could have worked without mozzarella at all on top, because the crust is almost half-cheese. The picture above is mostly my own devouring, because it was a little much for hubby. So, if/when we make it again, we'll likely leave the cheese out as a topping, and include some fun peppers and things. I'd definitely recommend this for anyone who is gluten free or looking to include more veggies in their diet.

Keep a look out for my upcoming reviews: Alton Brown's Sour Cream Cheesecake (in the oven right now!) and Kristen Cashore's Bitterblue. Let's see if I can do book reviews too!

Stay

The Review Board: Pita Bread

...and hummus...sort of.

About a month or two ago, I attempted to make pita bread. Why not? It's tasty! Well, here's why not:
-With an oven above 400 degrees, I almost burned myself. A lot.
-They poof up, which makes them very hard to handle once cooked.
-I don't have a nice fancy oven stone, so I had to use a cookie sheet that loves to bend and warp during cooking.
-The recipe required you to flip the pitas half way through. Again, with the burning myself. (When baking, it's really better for me to keep my hands out of the oven as much as possible.)
-As I was trying to retrieve the now-sphericalish pita from the oven, I dropped it. Into the oven. Backstory: I started out this semester by dropping an oven mitt onto an oven coil. It caught on fire a little bit. In another adventure, I hit my hand against the other oven coil and had a very large, decently severe burn. I love baking, but I'm kind of afraid of our oven now. Flashfoward to...the last time I made pita bread, when I dropped the pita. I'm flying through drawers, whipping out spatulas and tongs and forks, trying to figure out the best way to rescue this little demon before he burned my apartment complex down. Finally, the pita was nestled out of the crack of the oven and onto a plate, where it looked perfectly done. Of course.
In it's defense, the batch did turn out tasty and I didn't have to spend money on it. It was just very labor intensive and turned out rather crispy.

Today, I decided to try a new recipe. This one had slightly different methodology. It can be found here.
I don't remember the actual recipe for the first batch, so I couldn't tell you if they were different or not. I can, however, tell you that in this recipe, I:
-Used honey instead of sugar
-Kind of wished I'd used wheat flour, because I eat white breads too much
-Needed probably a full extra cup of flour than called for. That's Rexy for you though.

This recipe didn't require me to flip the pita, which was a huge plus. I'm still amazed that the little buggers cook in 3 minutes! It also recommended using the bottom of the cookie sheet, which seemed a lot better for this task. I now have a stack of delicious pitas sitting on my counter, perfectly done, and without a single burn on my hands. Now, for the hummus.

I hesitate to really review this because I question it. Even though I sit here eating it with carrots while I type, it still concerns me. Part of my thriftiness comes from the bulk bins at Winco, which is the place to get spices, grains, (candy) and other things that you want in greater or lesser quantities than you can find on a shelf. In our last jaunt, I found hummus mix. You add water and EVOO and suddenly, hummus. I don't know if it's the right texture or anything. I just know that powdered hummus makes me suspicious, but I added red pepper flakes and it masks the carroty taste of these carrots quite nicely. If anyone tries it out, let me know what you think?

Happy eating!

The Review Board

I kind of have this desire to start reviewing things, on top of the regular blog posts (that I haven't made in four months, oops.) I mean, I have no idea what I'd review. Everything? Books, recipes, products? Everything sounds good. But where to start?

Well, in an effort to be more thrifty, I've been trying to homemake a bunch of stuff. We go through a healthy amount of salsa in our home, and our neighbors brought us some of their scratch salsa which made me crave the not-jarred stuff even more. I started with a recipe: Alton Brown's Salsa. I usually choose Alton Brown recipes for things I've never made before because the videos that accompany them are really helpful and they are typically simple and delicious.
We hit a few snags (WinCo didn't have jalapenos or regular limes. What's up with that?) Jared substituted a couple other chiles (he can't remember what kind) for the missing jalapenos, and ended up putting the juice of five key limes in. The salsa filled the biggest bowl I own on Saturday. Today (Tuesday) we finished it off. It took about a bag and a half of chips. I meant to freeze some of it so we could have salsa whenever we needed it, but it just kept getting better the longer it sat. So, without further ado, here's my official review:
It really did get better every day. When it was first assembled, it wasn't my favorite. It was kind of...bitter? Regardless, by the time we finished it today I was inhaling it. Definitely respect the "let sit for 12 hours" instruction. I wish we'd added more heat. We weren't sure how it would turn out, so we mellowed out half the jalapenos. Next time I make it, I'll have to separate and freeze half of it before announcing that it's done.

Tada! I reviewed something! I'll get better as I go, I hope.

As far as home-life is going, Jared and I have enjoyed our little apartment. It's definitely coming together. Plus, college apartments are never dull. When I had to bail on our neighbors because I wasn't feeling well, she asked if I was positive sick, or negative sick. Nope, I'm not preggers. Funny way of asking, though! Rexburg is covered in snow, and has been for a few weeks now. We got a white Christmas! I'm (still) job hunting, and Jared starts school next week. Back to the grind we go!

The New Home

Hi everyone! You'll likely have noticed many changes around the blog. I figured, hey, new family, new home, might as well give the blog a fresh coat of paint. However, it's not just KT anymore (nor are my initials even KT anymore) so I logically also had to change the blog name and address.
But Katie, why didn't you just create a new blog? Wouldn't it have been easier?
No.

Anyway, to the point of this entry. Jared and I, after our wedding on July 28th, had been living with my parents up until last week. Now it's time to start a new school semester, which means moving into married student housing up here at the Y of I. We're incredibly happy to call this little place home. 

I worked in California until Thursday night, we drove all day Friday and then again Saturday beginning at 6am. By 10am, we had the keys to our apartment, and by 11, we had unloaded our first car-full, met our neighbors, and scored a free tv.  We then proceeded to dash to the nearest bed store to ensure that we had somewhere to sleep for the night. Then we hopped back in the car, drove to Idaho Falls, and picked up a vacuum, a microwave (what kind of apartment doesn't have a microwave these days?!) and a million other little necessities. By Saturday night, our bed was made, our bedroom free of clutter, the bathroom had a shower curtain and towels, the kitchen had basic tools, and the rest of our apartment made us look like hoarders. On the plus side, the first trip home from the storage unit filled our car once again, but attracted the attention of half our building to help unload. It took maybe five minutes. 

Sunday was our first day in a married student ward. Unlike the single student wards, where everyone goes by their first names, we're Brother and Sister Allen. Also, there's the constant drone of a few rattles. Regardless, it was kind of fun.

Today was our first day of school, and Jared's birthday. We had a religion class together with a teacher we've had before, so that was really nice. Other classes were the basic first-day routine. Nothing too exciting. We were both done by 12:30, as we will be every day, which totally rocks. Jared will usually have work after that though. 

After school, I took my first stab at baking an Angel Food cake (from a box, of course). I now have my first oven spill to clean up. Yummy. The cake soon became part of a Strawberry Shortcake trifle. Because, you know, why not?

Jared, the greatest chef of our age, called it the best Strawberry Shortcake he'd ever had. Score!

And what birthday would be complete without Sparkling Cider in plastic champagne flutes?

The flowers were from Jared today.
"Happy Birthday!" he said with a grin as he presented them to me.
"But Jared, it's your birthday."
"Happy My Birthday!"
I love him.

So those are our latest adventure. More to come, I'm certain. Hopefully next time I post, we'll have the last two rooms assembled. Maybe.

-Katie A.

Remind Me Again: What is Sleep?

Home again. Well, back in Temecula. Home is where the heart is, which means for me, it's wherever Jared is. So I guess right now "home" is an hour from here. But I'm with my mom and sister now, so "home" is here too. I've definitely missed them.
Finals always seem to drain the life out of me, especially when compounded with having to make my apartment "white glove" clean at the same time. I think I got about fifteen hours of sleep all week, and that's including half the drive home. But you know, I'll take what I can get.
Six days, eleven hours.
That is how long I have until I become Mrs. Katie Allen, and gosh dang, six days and eleven hours is far too many. So much is happening this week, I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever get to settle down. Oh well, it's totally worth it.
Anyway, just thought I'd let everyone know that I'm back in California safely, and
I'M GETTING MARRIED IN A WEEK!!!!!!!!!!!

T - 6 Weeks!

Oh my goodness. I'm getting married six weeks from today. I woke up this morning with that pit in my stomach that tells me I'm missing something, so I've been going over my lists a dozen times trying to make sure I have everything together. Jared, meanwhile, is trying to convince me that everything is being handled. He definitely balances out my crazy. Regardless, the list this weekend involves:
-Finalizing our invitation lists
-Dressing the groomsmen
-Picking out our wedding bands
-Picking out music for the reception

I really wish I could just jet home really quick and see how everything is going.

School is going well, though I kind of had a week off. I got super sick last Friday, and my body has taken a whole week to recover. Meanwhile, doctors have no clue what's going on. It's fun! Not really...
Otherwise, I applied for my school's paramedic program and was put on the waitlist. I'm not sure how far down this list I am, but I registered for other classes regardless. If I get in, I can be done with school in three semesters. If not, it'll be an extra year added on to my time here. I'm really hoping I get in.

Jared is doing well. He was able to test out of Spanish classes, giving him the credits he needs to get on fastgrad, which will allow him to go to school year-round. That'll be really nice for us.

I hope everyone else is having a great beginning-of-summer! Love you!

I have no clue what to title this

Jared finally got to have a hand in the wedding planning and excitement. In the twelve weeks we've been engaged, he's barely gotten to do anything except help pack the bridal shower gifts and yay or nay some things over skype. Alas, yesterday, we picked out his suit. We're both very excited about it, aside from the fact that he'll be wearing it on our wedding day. For him, it's the first time he's had a well-tailored suit, for me, he just looks so gosh darn handsome in it! Okay, I'm done gushing.

Our weekend otherwise has had a damper on it as I've been sick. Even now, I'm staying home from stake conference so I can recover and hopefully not contaminate too many other people. It ruined so many fun things, like...not letting us stay out until curfew. Okay, so maybe it's just forced me to go to bed earlier and be half-miserable, but that's about it. All the same, we didn't get to see the supermoon last night or have any Cinco de Mayo-related fun. (maybe I can blame the heavy rain on the lack of supermoon, but regardless, I'm bummed.)

Hopefully the next week goes better!

~~~~~~~~~
82 days until the wedding!

The I

I'm back in Idaho where everything feels normal again. The only different thing, really, is that I'm here with Jared, and have apparently joined some group of students that I didn't notice before. The student body seems to be primarily divided into the single-and-mostly-uncommited and the engaged-and-or-married groups. Without having consciously known it, I belonged to the former until now. I'm in my last semester of single-student housing, which is very nice. When we go to devotional and the speaker talks about eternal marriages, I get to sit back and smile when they plead for the single students to date, and I tune in when they discuss marriage and families. I'm even on a special list in the Bishop's office. Being engaged falls somewhere between a fantastic thing and everyday life up here.

Anyway, classes are awesome so far. My New Testament teacher spent years in the middle-east simply because he wanted to understand the Savior better. My firefighting class has a 2-1/2 inch wide textbook, is almost entirely male-dominated, and might be entirely useless, but it's supposed to be incredibly fun. Plus, I get to sit by Jared in both of those classes. My Spanish teacher seems to be fantastic, and I think I'll learn a lot from him. My DNA class textbook is Genetics for Dummies. I'm taking a global dynamics class online, and the jury is still out on that one.

For those who wonder, my hands haven't gotten any better, but they haven't gotten worse either. I'm learning how to take care of them and I've cut back a lot on the hand-stressful activities. Even Jared is finding ways he can help, besides just being my scribe when I need him. Granted, sometimes I feel downright disabled, and most days my pinkies and ring-fingers are mostly asleep, but I've gotten used to it.

Honestly, I think this is going to be a great semester. It just has that feel to it, you know? I guess we'll just see what happens!

The Big News

For a ridiculously cute story, read everything. If you just want the big news, skip to the end. Oh, and italics from here on out are Jared's contributions.

Once upon a time, a girl of about thirteen was hired to tutor and clean for a family in her ward. Often times, the girl would find herself cleaning alongside the family's teenage son. They became friends. The two worked together for years, and eventually began meeting away from the home, going on adventures, getting into trouble, and generally just having fun. A few months before the girl turned sixteen, the young man presented her with his first gift:

a ctr ring the young woman had greatly desired

The young woman's sixteenth birthday rolled around, at which time the young man presented her with a dozen red roses, and asked her to be his girlfriend.

eww eww eww

Unbeknownst to him, the girl dried the roses and held onto them.

Unfortunately, the teenage romance didn't end well, and our heroine broke up with the young man.

Their relationship thereafter was in shambles. It went from silence and cold-shoulders to almost-a-romance, back and forth over the space of a year. Still, the young man bought her a gift for her seventeenth birthday. Knowing her love of writing and of things that whispered of eras past, he bought her a quill and ink pot. 

For the record, she wasn't expecting a gift that year. She still swore he was upset.
That's what she thinks.

Our young man left for two years to serve a mission, during which time the young woman missed (quite a lot) her friend of years ago. So she wrote him. Faithfully. For two long years. (Talk about dedication, right? Do any of you guys out there have a girl who will do that? Yeah, she's pretty awesome.) In return, he wrote back, and continued to send gifts on her birthday.

For her eighteenth, he sent her something straight from a missionary's heart:

For her nineteenth, he surprised her, and caused the girl to experience her first ever laugh-cry. (Success!)

He sent her a printed, bound copy of her first completed work of fiction. It looked like a book she would find in a bookstore (where it should be), and holds a place of honor on her shelf.

Eventually, the young man returned home, and the young woman apologized (for what??) and expressed her desire to be reunited with him. She surprised him by flying from Idaho for his homecoming (or rather, redefined surprise. She was talking to her roommates in Idaho one hour, and the next she was in my living room!). Once the young man rediscovered cellphones and skype, the couple remained in near-constant contact. The girl went home again for Thanksgiving, where this time, she asked him to be her boyfriend. Of course, he said 'yes'. 

For Christmas, our young man bought the young woman a beautiful and unique necklace (one of the girl's three eternal hunts, I'll have you know. That thing doesn't exist anywhere else in the world), and hand-crafted her a wooden box to keep it in.

Unfortunately, some four-legged creatures got to the box. (I swear I'll kill those dogs)

After Christmas, the couple traded places. He left for Idaho, while she stayed in Temecula. Still, they kept in constant contact. They talked. And talked. And talked. They made plans and secret schemes. He sent her flowers on Valentines Day.

 One specific weekend in February rolled around, and the young man flew to California. The couple met with her parents, got their approval and blessing, and then the magic began. 

First, she was blindfolded.  Then, she was driven in circles, and finally, led over treacherous fields and dirt paths. When the blindfold was taken off she was sitting...in the middle of the meadow, where the couple had spent many nights stargazing. The young man surprised the young woman with:

And then...

"Let's go get some dinner."

That's it? the girl thought. We talked to my parents, he dragged me out here for this big show and...rootbeer?

She shrugged and followed regardless. They gathered their things and walked over the next hill, where written in glowsticks was:

He then handed the girl a package, which contained:

And inside that:

A ring, on the chapter titled "The Unbreakable Vow"

Jared then got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.

 And I said yes.



Katie Helen Thompson is officially engaged to Jared Christopher Allen, as of 2/17/12. 

Movies as Usual

The semester ended, I moved back home, my room has a pleasant Katie-mess to it, and I'm back at the theater. My boyfriend is at school in Idaho, and I'm stuck here in glorious, southern California. I spend my days...well...looking for things to do. If I'm not at work, I'm usually on the phone or skype with my boyfriend. If neither of those are available to distract me, I read or play MarioKart (probably the best video game I've received in a good seven years). I have feelers out to babysit wherever I'm needed, but with an always-changing work schedule, it's hard to say when I'm available very far in advance.
I haven't even taken my EMT exam yet. I'm waiting patiently for all the forms and certifications to go through, just chillin' around, forgetting everything. Ok, maybe not everything. Last week at the theater, I got to help someone who got sick, arrange things with Emergency Services, and talk to the medics like a big kid. Well, a big kid with EMT knowledge. Regardless, that was probably the coolest thing I've done in a while.
Anyway, I think I'll go back to looking for something to do, because I don't start work for another seven hours, and all my friends are in class.
Sigh.

Home Again

I finished my third/fourth semester of college, passed my EMT practicals, and got myself a better boyfriend than I could dream of having. He treats me like a princess and might very well be the best person to come into my life in a long time. Now I have four months off, and said boyfriend will be up in the great state of Idaho starting his own college career. Over the next four months, I'll take my written EMT exam and hopefully get myself hired on with an Ambulance company. I'll continue to work at the movie theater in the interim, and I think I'll start writing again.

Part of me can't believe the semester is over. It was such a crazy one, but I'm going to really miss Idaho. Heads almost rolled during finals week though, that's for sure. I'm glad to have a break from school. That being said, I'm also glad to be done driving. For my latest trick, I drove from Provo to home...alone. I stayed the night with the family somewhere kind of in the middle, but still. I'm glad to be home.

I hope everyone has a fantastic Christmas!

In Which I Learn to Lead

I am not a leader.

At least, I was never much of one. I spent years following orders and doing my best not to ruffle any feathers. In college, I have been put into a few leadership positions, nothing consequential. Each semester teaches me some new fundamental aspect of being human, though, like taking care of myself, and learning to trust.

This semester, I have learned to lead. It started with my calling as the second counselor in my RS presidency. I was given jurisdiction of sorts to lead over a few specific committees, where my specific job was to lead. It took some getting used to, but I eventually got the hang of conducting meetings, giving assignments, and receiving input from those around me.

The learning continued in my classes. In some, I was content to ride in the passenger seat and let the more ambitious take the reigns. That is not allowed in EMT. Can you imagine going into cardiac arrest, and the two techs responding are going back and forth with:
"You can do compressions."
"No, no, you can do them."
"Well, would you like to hook up the AED?"
"Only if you don't want to."
Five minutes later, nothing is done, and you're dead. That's bad. To prevent such terrible occurrences, we'd occasionally be assigned to lead when doing skills. No one acted without the leader's say-so, and if something was done incorrectly, it was the leader's fault.

I remember one particular lab day when we were learning to do scene assessments. Colton, the Paramedic student instructing the skill, asked for someone to start. I deferred, saying that I really wasn't as strong with that assessment type. He calmly looked me in the eyes and said, "then you're leading". The Paramedic students pushed the EMT students, and sometimes it felt like a lot, but they really helped me learn and grow.

It wasn't until this past Saturday that I realized how much I'd changed. My class was participating in a Mock Scenario. My group of eight suited up, prepared our jump bags, and drove the ambulances to the local high school, where the results of a fight had been staged. We wheel the cots in, but my teacher stops us before we get to the scenario room. We needed leaders assigned: one for each of the two groups of four, and then an Incident Commander, or IC, who was to lead the entire group. Two kids snapped up the team leader job, but no one was volunteering for the IC. Behind me, someone speaks up.
"I nominate Katie."
No. I was already a nervous wreck. Everyone knew that. So they wanted to put me in charge?

Suddenly everyone was looking at me, and before I knew it, I was donning the white IC vest.  My job was to examine each of the six patients, determine who was highest priority for transport, help everyone with their patients, and, well, lead. I coordinated the movement of tables from on top of patients, fetched supplies, triaged, and helped students move the patients onto backboards and cots and then carry those cots up and down stairs. Did I mention that those patients were our Paramedic student instructors? Scary. The hardest part for me was determining which patients were most critical, and organizing transportation for six patients in two ambulances. Somehow, I managed to do it.

My teacher critiqued us after, and my classmates made sure I knew they thought I did well. It was incredible, and the experience was incomparable, but the biggest thing I learned:

I can lead.

In Which I Pretend to be in Control

If we're being perfectly honest, we'd admit to ourselves that the majority of the time we only look like we know what we're doing. Maybe I'm generalizing too much. If I'm being perfectly honest, the majority of the time, I only look like I know what I'm doing. 

Case Study #1: Codename Blindie (yes, she gave me permission to make it her codename) was working at the school market, at which point she sustained second degree burns to her right hand due to prolonged exposure to boiling water. At first, I was thinking okay, I'll check it when I stop by between classes. Each text made the case sound more urgent, though. In about 3.6 minutes, I was at Blindie's side, fishing for gauze in my backpack and admiring the fleshy blisters. My train of thought was something like: okay, she ran it under cool water for about a minute...probably should do more, but whatever. She put burn gel on it...red flag. Wait, that's a red flag, right? Nothing on burns...I think. Crud, we don't cover burns until next week. Okay, think. Cool water, keep it dry. We need more gauze. I convinced Blindie to leave her register and help me find a decent first aid kit. We wandered upstairs, found the general manager, and followed him through the kitchen to the most beat-up, out-of-date kit I've ever seen in a professional establishment. The first thing he fishes out: burn cream. He tries to hand it to Blindie, and I emphatically shake my head. "No cream." GM does a double take. It should be understood that at the time, I was in full EMT uniform, pants, polo, scissors and all. "Oh, okay," he says, as if unsure of trusting me or not. I quickly scan the container. "No gauze rolls...so...lots of that gauze pad size, that tape, and that tape." Please sound confident. Make it sound like you know exactly what you need. Please let me be right! "I'll bring the leftovers back." Out Blindie and I go to the MC Commons, where I begin wrapping each finger with gauze squares and taping them as gently as possible. I gave Blindie strict orders to take it easy and hydrate. I stayed close to finish homework, since I was ditching class anyway, and then went to my EMT lab. After that, I immediately scoured my textbook for correct answers. To my elation, I did everything as I should have. 

Case Study #2: I developed an infection last week that required daily trips to Community Care for wound management. Every day I'd walk into that office, smile at the nurses, and wait to be taken back. They'd call me back to room 1, the room especially for body fluids and trauma. Here we go again. "Ready?" Yep. Nope. Holy goodness! Oh my goodness this hurts so bad. Oh my gosh I'm going to die. "Doing alright?" Yep. ARGH! Okay, I think they're done. *breathes* Oh crudmuffins nope they're not done. Finally, peace. "Alright, you're good to go until tomorrow. You alright?" Yep! Thank you so much! Just give me a sec, I'm not ready to move yet. I've realized that if I go in there every day and scream my head off for the entire thirty seconds they're causing me excruciating pain, they're going to hate seeing me, and nothing's going to make the doctor want to be nice. So I smile, pretend I don't want to smack the PA's hand away whenever he comes near, and try to make each visit as pleasant as I can. But KT, that's not your job. THEY should be making YOU comfortable. Well, yeah, but I've worked healthcare too. I love seeing happy patients. It makes the job suck so much less. Besides, every time I suffer through those thirty seconds, I wind up feeling so much better afterwards. It's brilliant. 

Case Study #3: "Hey KT!" Roommate/friend/family member exclaims, "so I went to the doctor/was scouring webmd today, and he/it said that I have [insert medical condition here]. What does that even mean?" -or- "Hey KT! So whenever I [insert action], my [body part] [does something it probably shouldn't]. What do I do?" Okay, think. That's a respiratory problem/sign of allergic reaction/muscular reaction. Step 1: Do I have any prior knowledge of the topic? If yes, share. Step 2: Has is been covered in class? If yes, scour brain for details, and share. Step 3: Is it something you learned to do in lab? If yes, proceed to practice skill on the sick/injured questioner. Step 4: Are you lost? Textbook. Still lost? Webmd. STILL lost? Consult roommates codenamed Devin (future RN) and Mamabear (future MA). Step 5: Totally out of your league? Send to Urgent Care/Call 911. So far, my system has not failed me. 

I realize that all three of my case studies were medical-y things, but to be perfectly honest, those are what filled my last week and a half. The same holds true in all aspects of my life, though, be it Capstone or Family Foundations classes, real life or labs. Fake it 'til you make it, a friend used to tell me. But what about being real? Well, are you capable of being real? Will anyone benefit from you being 100% honest right now? Or would it be better for you to be confident on the outside? Well, would you walk into a job interview and tell the interviewer that you were really worried about those pictures on facebook that you didn't want them to see? Or walk into a test and through your hands in the air after three questions because you don't think you know anything? No. You fake it. 

I'm certainly not encouraging anyone to go out and lie. Don't become conmen and hustlers, capable of getting anything out of everyone by sheer will of your charisma (no matter how fun it is). Just be confident. Be yourself. Be what is needed, when it is needed. The world might need my maternal instincts tomorrow, and my shoddy knowledge of Sign Language the day after, so that's what I'm going  to give. 

Wow, long post. Oops. 

Midterm Report!

So I thought I'd go over things I've learned so far, since midterms have just passed. These things range from the simple to the complex, that's for sure.
1. The right ventricle pumps to the lungs.
2. Everyone gets oxygen.
3. The fire alarm in my apartment is super sensitive.
4. Life is going to throw really tough decisions my way later on. I need to decide how I'll handle them now.
5. Sometimes, running to California on Friday and back on Sunday is totally worth it.

See?

6. Occasionally, every apartment should have a meeting to discuss problems and find solutions.
7. I don't need to be an insomniac. It's kind of fun going to bed before midnight sometimes.
8. The best roommates are the ones who stick with you, even when you're at your worst.
9. Baking my own bread is tastier and cheaper than buying it every week. Plus, it's way fun.
10. Sometimes, fixing a problem hurts worse than the problem itself. Once you get it fixed, you can finally start to heal, and even if there's some pain or scarring left over, it will always be better than before.

Some of these lessons, I've definitely had to learn the hard way. Like when something has been bothering you all week, and when you finally go to the doctor he asks why you weren't in a week ago. Or when you think you're insane and crazy, and you're thinking screw butterflies, there are stampeding elephants in my tummy, but you end up having the best time ever. Or when the fire alarm goes off because of the steam from someone's curling iron, and you think nothing of it, and the firemen come over while you're in the shower.

Regardless, I've learned a lot since September, and am excited to continue learning and growing. Simply put, I love where I am in life right now. I wouldn't change a thing.

Pikchas

Here's a bit of an update on how my first few weeks up here have been...In picture form!

The Old Room, right before I shoved all that junk into boxes and said bye-bye for the last time.

The New Room

My official EMT student uniform, pants, badge and all. I feel so cool.

I get so excited for every class!

The roommates at a corn maze that almost lost us for good.

Ward Opening Social

Roommate Dinner at Big Jud's

All six of us split this burger, an order of fries, and two orders of onion rings, all for about $4 each. College eating rarely tastes so good.

Well, that's my semester so far in picture format. I'm trying to see if I can make it all semester without seeing a doctor this time. I've failed two semester in a row on that front. Otherwise, I live and breathe for my EMT class. It's amazing, to say the least!

Things I've Realized

You know you're in the paramedic program when:
1. given a case study in bio lab, instead of trying to figure out how the poison affects the patient's system on a molecular level, you create a plan for treating the patient when first on the scene.
2. you make a game out of trying to identify the make and model of stretchers used in tv and movies.

 That is all.

On Being 19 and 10 Things I Learned

I think I like being nineteen. I've been an adult for more than a year now, and have worked out a lot of the kinks that come with getting thrust into responsibility. At the same time, I still have a year left to be a teenager. That means I still get to make stupid mistakes and blame it on teen-dom. At the same time, most people actually treat me like an adult now. It's not that creepy if I still want to hang out with some highschoolers. I still pay a ton in car insurance, but the rate went down just because I turned nineteen. It's like the company was congratulating me on successfully surviving childhood. Granted, I'm still holding out for the 25-year-old discount jackpot, but I have a few more years for that. I'll just enjoy being nineteen until the next summer, when I'll have to jump that strange hurtle: Twenty.

This blog was supposed to go up a day or two ago, so I'm a little late with this post, but:
Ten Things I Learned During My First Week of School:
1. Guilty pleasures are a lot more fun when the entire apartment is in on them. Example: Twilight. There, I said it. My roomies and I had a Twilight movie marathon this weekend.
2. After a long week of school it is entirely possible to sit in a living room for nine hours, watching four-and-a-half movies, eating junk food, and downing massive Horkley's sodas.
3. In the food chain of paramedicine, no one is lower than Ambulance Drivers (according to my department head).
4. Even two hours of law and ethics can be bearable if the overlying subject is interesting enough.
5. It is possible, but not advised, to live off of brownies.
6. It is possible for all SIX of my approved EMS instructors to be called out on the same morning, causing class to start an hour late.
7. At any given accident in Rexburg where an ambulance is called, one or more of my teachers is probably on said ambulance.
8. I have to practice saying "We're going to do everything we can," instead of "you're going to be okay" for everything. I don't like it, but I have to learn.
9. Everyone gets oxygen. (Unless you're hyperventilating)
10. My roommates are incredible. I really lucked out with the apartment jackpot this semester.

This semester has started off beautifully. I'm happy and healthy, and excited to learn something every day. I've also been called as RS 2nd counselor. I've never had an RS leadership calling. Heck, I spend every week I'm home in primary, teaching small children the basics. I can keep them entertained with coloring pages and bribe them with goldfish. While my roommates insist that I can still bribe with goldfish, it's very different, having a calling like this. I've met with my presidency once so far, and I love it.

As for the rest of life, I kind of feel like I can conquer...pretty much anything. I'm nineteen and fearless. So you know what, World? Bring It On.

3 Med+1 Psych+1 El-Ed+1 Home Ec

= My New Family.
Not even kidding, the combination is hilarious.
I've lived in my new apartment for seven days now, and man am I in love! My roommates are all amazing, and we've spent more than half of our nights together up way too late talking about the most random things. Plus, we have one pre-nurse, one pre-medical assistant, and one pre-paramedic. We're always comparing notes, asking questions, or having weird conversations like:
"Check out this picture in my book!"
"Where are his clothes?!"
"He's wearing socks..."
"Is he pooping?"
"No, he's dead. It's a picture of Dependent Lividity!"

Basically, life is going amazingly.
I have a great apartment family, I live for my EMT and capstone classes, and spend more time with my nose in textbooks than I have in a while. I even got to watch my first mock accident today in EMT lab, when the paramedic students got to drive up in a school ambulance and everything! I'm so excited to get my license! My teacher explained it perfectly. Most people see an accident and feel helpless. People who go into EMS are the ones who hate that feeling enough to do something about it. And I'm definitely doing something about it.

Anyway, it's late, and I'm waking up early to study tomorrow (plus my roommate is asleep. I'll write more later!

Love always,
KT

100 years

Twelve years ago yesterday, my family officially moved to our home in T-mec. Yesterday, my mom picked up the keys to the new house. Last Tuesday I spent fourteen hours in a car, drove through four states, and landed in Utah. Thursday I was on the road again by five a.m., and four hours later I was moving into my new apartment in Rexburg. It's amazing how much can change in short amounts of time, and how little over the span of years.
Change is good though. I'm not talking about promised change coupled with propaganda messages, I'm talking about growing up, moving on, developing into who you were always meant to be.
Growing up is hard, though; this I know. In packing up my bedroom back home, I filled an entire black trashcan (you know, the kind you put all your other trash bags into to wheel to the side of the street for the garbagemen?) with stuff from my room. There are three trashbags full of consignment stuff from me alone, and one is filled entirely with stuffed animals. There was a lot of trashing, and scarily, a handful of things saved for...wait for it...my future kids. Almost my entire life is packed into four or five boxes, two of which are filled with books. Everything else I own is up here at school with me, and all of it fits into an apartment shared by six girls.
I think growing up often means realizing what you can live without. It helps you eliminate the inessentials and think about what's important. One of those five boxes is filled with fragile pictures, teacups, and other heirlooms that represent the things I own of value. It's amazing how much we think we need until it comes time to downsize and get rid of it all.
We do that with our minds eventually, too. We think about the important things, we realize which memories we need to hold onto, which grudges we need to get rid of, and which "tough-stuff" things we finally need to accept and move on with.
I read an interesting blog entry from ThoughtCatalog, "A Checklist For The Age 19". It seemed appropriate, being nineteen myself. I really liked what the author had to say. My favorite, though, is the last on the list:

Every so often, you will need to scream. That’s okay. That’s allowed. Scream. After all, you’re just a kid. You’re only 19.

It's true, you know? I've been a legal adult for over a year now, but at the same time, I'm still a teenager. Once again, I'm the youngest in my apartment, but strangers trusted me with their lives for almost a thousand miles of driving. Before I turn twenty, I'm going to have an EMT license and will be trusted with people's lives from inside ambulances, but I still can't rent a car and I still call my mom almost daily.
I think 19 is the year to get it all out. To be a little bit more wild and rebellious than you have been and will be again. To start paying your own bills (if you haven't already). To really figure out what you're doing with life. I'm working on it, but I still have plenty of time. The thing is, I think nineteen is the time to realize that you don't always have plenty of time. Eventually, you'll be degree-less, jobless, and homeless if you don't realize that time runs out. Thank goodness mistakes are expected in this life. I would fail at being 19 otherwise.