Dana Burland

Dear mom and aunt Dana, Let me remind you both that you are replaceable. I can pay the rent here with my smile and the charm of my kittenish meow, alone. And your interior decorating? It’s questionable at best. I don’t know why you cover up so many luscious corners and crevices. Clearly you don’t get the joy of running your fur up against a nice slice of baseboard—your loss. You two think you’re so cute making me speak like you know what’s fluttering through my little cat mind. Little do you know that I’m enrolled in Community Cat College and am in the process of studying pop culture and philosophy while writing my thesis on the depiction of felt toy mice in modern media. Yeah, I’m busy when I’m hiding under my mom’s bed; and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop assuming I’m snoozing all day. I’ll tell you what else is unacceptable: company . Be it the furry or human kind, it’s really inconsiderate. You think you can just lock me away in mom’s room because someone’s ‘allergic’. W...

This drank has girl's night written all over it; or classy recovery from a rough day at work; or celebrating it's Monday. Hey whatever you bust out the stemware for, I don't judge. I first put this cocktail together this past summer when my farmer's market was almost paying me to take their blueberries. I usually add a couple slices of peaches too, but no can do in November. True—it's not the most festive cold weather drink, but you win some you lose some, and you got nothin' to lose with this tasty bev. I wouldn't make this too far ahead of time, or else the pop will go flat. Yes, I said pop. And truthfully, it's just as yummy if you splash it all together quickly and plop down for an episode of Modern Family. 

I don't blab about B  too much round this blog, but today is a blab-worthy day. Today marks the 365th day B has put up with my antics — from when I almost, kind of, accidentally stood him up on our first date (then finally showed up with inhumane garlic breath) to receiving regular emails with photos of Boo  (clearly a man's best friend); this boy deserves to be celebrated. When he knew how much I loved to run, he signed on to my 5k a month project , without ever having ran a race ever before. (Maybe it was a ploy to impress me, but guess who's been suffering once a month ever since.) Since he's known I dislike eating at restaurants that I can cook better than, he's hunt for the best ethnic and creative restaurants my tiny town has to offer. This includes a most memorable gut-busting experience at a Brazilian steakhouse, when we both thought we could out-eat the restaurant—which is impossible. When he knew how much ArtPrize in Grand Rapids meant t...

Hello bowl-cut! Once upon a time I had beautifully shiny pin-straight hair. By the time I was old enough to care about what was happening on the top of my head, I wished (like every other female) for the complete opposite. I bought goop that promised to curl and worked it through my straight hair hoping for a change. It all ended the same—a head of wet looking stringy hair, barely bent. When I went off to college, I befriended a ringletted beauty. She spent the majority of our college experience ironing her hair flat while I spent it poofing, spraying and curling mine. Humidity, water and gravity were our great enemies in both hair transforming projects. By the time we graduated, the hair Gods had punished me for all the torture with a wavy-frizz combo that didn't fare well in public naturally. I took to straightening it or pumping it with a wave-controlling product daily. Then I moved to the East coast and the change continued. When I’m able to get home, my famil...

All photos credit Louise. She's a master. 

Listen Internet, I don’t have to tell you how bananas this whole Penn State sex scandal is, just Google it; but to Pennsylvanian residents, bananas don’t even begin to explain it. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to be like every other person weighing in on something I’m not even remotely involved in. Especially because like so many Pennsylvanians, so many of my friends and coworkers are connected to Penn State. As removed as I am, I don’t feel the need to toss my opinion into the ring. But, as crazy, sad and shocking our entire nation has found this situation; I—as a Pennsylvanian transplant—have found the local response too interesting to not capture or share with my out-of-state readers. To get it, you have to get a few basics. State College, Pennsylvania (location of Penn State’s main campus) is in the middle of nowhere—and I mean noooo whereeeee. When I drive to Michigan across PA on I-80 and have only seen trees and rock cliffs for two and a half hours and have two and...

This past Sunday was running themed for me. I woke up and immediately plugged in to the New York City Marathon coverage. I was in charge of pushing results to the Runner’s World   Facebook page , and did just that in my pajamas with a serious case of weekend bed-head. Working for Runner’s World  is not a bad gig. It’s pretty incredible to watch the elite athletes run with such an unbreakable stride for two hours. These women run at a pace almost exactly twice as fast as I do (and for much, much longer). It makes me want to cry a little bit. Watching the end of the women’s race made me want to cry a little bit, too. Mary Keitany , a Kenyan mega-woman, fell into third place just before the finish. She had been leading (by up to four minutes) for almost 23 miles. You know, leading one of the biggest marathons in the world by about eight city blocks, no big deal. I so desperately wanted to give Mary my chocolate chip pancake breakfast fuel to finish first.

I’ve been in a hair slump. Scratch that, I live in a hair slump. I usually go curly or pull it up and forget about it. I just don’t want to deal; but I want to look cute, too. There’s no middle ground. However, this, I can get on board with. I posted before about how a front braid saves me from looking too lazy; but that look is so 2009. The waterfall braid is so awesome it’s pretty much 2012—like when car companies release their fancy new models before the calendar year turns; this braid is that awesome. This braid is all over the Pintrest circuit, and all over Louise too. She sent me a video tutorial and ever so graciously modeled the look with a hair review mah blog.

My name is Dana and I have a junk drawer. And a junk box. And a junk bag. And a junk closet, too. In reality, I don't think I have a problem (yikes, not even at the first step of admission yet!). I'm sure I have about the average amount of junk as any other female my age—bottles of dried up nail polish I refuse to part with, old magazines and paperwork that isn't important enough to be filed, an extra set of Honda keys . Most of this stuff is just filling space, waiting for the next time I pack up and move, where I will then spend hours combing through my entire life tossing and packing . Not like that's a reoccurring theme in my life or anything... I'm personally declaring November no-crap month. I know all I really need is a free weekend, a good play list, and a larger than life garbage bag for success. It's a completely realistic goal, but one I know I need a deadline on. After all, with my impressive one -for- one  track record of  completing...

When you give me a cookie, I'll often will eat five. When you give me a chocolate chip peanut butter oatmeal cookie I'll likely just eat the ingredients alone because I just can not wait until they combine and bake into the stupidly magical cookies they become. Fact: That cookie sheet use to be silver. Please find me a recipe title that sounds more delightful than this. I love chocolate chip cookies, they are perfect and traditional and tasty and ideally (for me at least) soft and a little cakey. My mom's recipe includes a handful (or two) of oatmeal, which I've grown to love. But then, THEN, peanut butter. It's gooey, sweet flavor spices up these cookies. Plus November is National Peanut Butter Lover's Month. I shall celebrate all month. I usually have all these ingredients (minus the chocolate chips) on hand at all times. Hm, maybe these should be my new go-to cookies. Haha like there are any cookies left to go to after these pop out of the oven.