624 Hours Columbia, MO

624 Hours Columbia, MO The last time I wrote a post as I was flying at some undetermined altitude over some undetermined state in the Midwest. I’m now writing, I can say with complete accuracy, that I am flying over Elmira, NY at 24,998 feet*. I hate you, technology. But sometimes you are a cool cat. I spent the last 26 days in my hometown â€" Columbia, MO. Located in the heart of the Show-Me State, Columbia is a lively college town, except for the parts like this: (I call this one, What The Two Hour Drive To The Airport Looks LikeThe Entire Time) Teeming with basketball fans, college kiddos, and old folks who really like our retirement communitiesah, screw it. I cannot keep up with the Nicholas Kristof/Frank Bruni writing. Here’s what’s been going on in my life: I had a conversation with a friend that went a little something like this: Me: “Man, I really love wrapping Christmas presents and loading the dishwasher. If only I could make a living out of doing these things.” Maita: “Like being a housewife?” Me: * And then I went back to reading my Martha Stewart Living magazine. [*Just got to say that I have a poop-ton of respect for housewives everywhere. It is EXHAUSTING. I love you, Mom!] So anyway, after that moment of brief defiance against social constructions, I decided to embrace my newfound sense of domesticness and set out to make a bunch of stuff. Because if I was going to do the housewife thing over break, I was going to do it like a good MIT student: I made some peach pie and I made chicken pot pie from scratch (do not laugh at my n00b crust-decorating skills, it was my first one): But then I decided that it wasn’t masochistic enough to use pre-made dough so I made cinnamon rolls from scratch. I should also mention that I love cooking but hate baking, so I did this entirely out of the desire to hardcore om nom nom on these suckers to prove my domestic prowess. We had ridiculously hot weather while I was here (it was 67 degrees when I left home today), but last Thursday we had a freak snow storm (and by “freak snow storm” I really mean “it’s been 60 degrees all winter so when we had a couple inches of snow my town forgot how to handle it”) and my little broskie got a snow day. Naturally, chocolate chip banana pancakes and pizza you-guessed-it from scratch was in order: Then on Sunday, my mom and I came together to create one uber Housewifeformerâ„¢ and churned out three outfits for our new dog, Scooter (who deserves his own blog post and will be getting one soon). They were fashioned out of Ryan’s old sweatpants and sweatshirts and some scrap fabric. All together now â€" WE SO RIDIKALUS. And last, but not least, I made a video. Now is this one over-achieving blog post or whaht?! (Not quite back in Boston yet, but we are almost over Albany, which is close enough.) *I’m totally not anymore. Sitting in Simmons. Peace out home fries!