Look for me on New Years Eve

Because I'll be in Times Square! Or at least in the vicinity, depending on the weather and the moods of my travel buddies. This is going to be a reunion like no other (or at least until we all meet again) for my college family and myself. It's also my first trip to Philadelphia and New York City, so I'm pretty excited.

Well, excited right up until it started snowing in Portland. Snow! in PORTLAND!!

Ok. Let's breathe. This is all going to be just fine.

-sigh-

Well, let's look at the bigger picture, shall we?
1) Yes, there's a terror alert from the attempted boming on a Delta flight 4 days ago. But that was four days ago. And I'm not flying Delta -- I'm on a Continental flight. And all those extra security measures that will probably make me late for my flight really have my best interests (and life) at heart, so I guess it's one of those things where you just have to grin and bear it.
2) Yes, it's snowing, thus putting quite the large damper on the schedule I was hoping to follow tonight before leaving for the airport. But at least I have snow tires, and I grew up driving in the snow, so I'm a seasoned veteran. It's the other 439,521 drivers on I-5 and I-205 who think they know how to drive in the snow, and in all actuality...don't. Or they could be like the crazy lady on the radio last Christmas whose rule-of-thumb was to drive so that her speed matched the temperature outside. If it was 15 degrees outside, then she would drive 15 miles per hour -facepalm-
3) My actual ride to the airport also grew up driving in snow, so I'm in safe, capable hands.
4) I woke up at 4am and am still trying to catch up on sleep from all the wonderful Christmas festivities, so I'm hoping that combination will make me sleep like a baby on the plane. Worst case, I'll pay $15 for a tiny glass of generic wine and fall into a coma-like sleep.

The NN (Niece/Nephew Nugget)

So my sister made a little announcement on Christmas Eve....that by this time next year, we'd have a new addition to the family:

Since they're not finding out the gender until it's born, I have dubbed it "The Nugget," which I believe is a much better choice than the alternatives of "It," or "Ziggy the Zygote." They told us the Big News by giving us all Christmas cards with something along the lines of "To a Wonderful Aunt," "To Wonderful Grandparents," etc., and included the above picture and signed it "Love, Ziggy." My grandma/roommate didn't get it at first, and asked, "Who's Ziggy? Did you guys get a cat?" Wonderful story to tell the Nugget someday - your great-grandmother thought that they were telling her they got a cat (ptooie!) instead of a baby.

Congrats, K and Generic! You're going to be wonderful parents!

Make something foolproof, and the world will hand you a better fool.

For weeks now, I've been planning what I was going to bake for my designated Thanksgiving task: dessert. By request, of course. I've scoured my favorite baking sites, looking for the item(s) that would be tasty, look difficult without too much work on my part, and that everyone would like. Surprisingly, I quickly found what I was looking for, and decided to make PW's Pumpkin Pecan Caramel cheesecake with a Gingersnap crust, and CM's White-Chocolate Ribbon Pumpkin Bundt cake with Maple Glaze. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Plus, for an added bonus, I figured that the cheesecake was foolproof, since PW so kindly lays out in pictures step-by-step explanations on how to make the delectable cheesecake.

Make something foolproof, and you'll find a better fool, right?

So last night was the night to make the cheesecake. I have been slowly accumulating the necessary ingredients for a few weeks now, in order to not blow my grocery budget out of proportion. I assembled all the ingredients on the counter in front of me, and got to work.

Step 1: Crush the gingersnaps in a food processor, or large Ziplock bag, mix with chopped pecans, brown sugar, and melted butter.

Psh. No problem. And since my motto is, "I'm not lazy, I'm efficient!" I decided to go with the Ziplock route in order to avoid washing another dish. Halfway through the crushing process, I discover that my heavy-duty Hefty Zip-lock bag has a hole in it, thus getting gingersnap crumbs all over my counter. No big deal. But because I went to a sustainably-conscious school, I hate to waste another plastic, non-biodegradable bag, so I resort to the food processor route.

Now, I've never used a food processor in my life. Frankly, it looked like too much work to put together and clean. But I needed those gingersnap crumbs, darn it! I pulled it out of the cupboard and set it on the counter. Looked simple enough: put the bowl and blade on the stand, dump in the food, screw on the lid and push the 'On' button. Hmmm, the 'On' button isn't working. Maybe the 'Pulse' button? Hmm, still not working. Maybe this outlet doesn't work. So I moved it over to the other side of the kitchen and repeated the same steps as before. Still not working. Well this processor looks as old as the hills, so maybe it's broken? Or maybe there's a safey 'On' switch on the bottom or something. After inspecting the mahcine for a few minutes, I finally realize that all of the little components have to line up just right in order for the machine to turn on. Oops. And after that, it works like a charm -- not only do I get my finely-ground gingersnaps, but finely-ground pecans as well! Mix in the brown sugar and melted butter, and press into a springform pan. Hmm, it looks a little more crumbly on the bottom than I'm used to, but I followed the recipe and it's sticking to the sides, so it shouldn't really matter. Let chill for 30 minutes. Life is goooooooooood, and I am a kitchen Master.
After the crust is sufficiently chilled, I took it out, and following PW's instructions, drizzled some caramel ice cream topping on the bottom of the crust. Pour in the pumpkin filling, and stick in the oven. Mission accomplished!
While the cheesecake was baking, the instructions said that your house should be starting to smell "heavenly." Mine was starting to smell a bit "smoky." I wandered into the kitchen to check the cheesecake's progress, and could see a fine plume of smoke coming from the oven's exhaust vents. I cracked the door open, and a whole wave of smoke billows out. What the #$%(&#$ hell!?!?!? I'm not sure WHAT my grandma cooked last in our oven, but there is some kind of liquid on the bottom that is causing some major smokage. I quickly opened the windows and doors, grabbed a dishtowel and started fanning out the kitchen, praying that the smoke detectors wouldn't go off. I repeated this process about 5 more times before the oven timer went off. When I opened the oven door one last time, I noticed that something was dripping off the pan, onto the bottom of the oven. That's when it hit me: That caramel sauce? The cheap stuff that I got at WinCo? And the crust that didn't look packed-in enough? AND THE FREAKIN' SPRING FORM PAN THAT LEAKS?!?!?! Yes, I now have liquid carmel on the bottom of my oven, and burnt on to boot. Which should make the cake and rolls I have to bake tonight a really fun process.
Hope my family doesn't mind their desserts with a bit of a smokey...er, rustic, aftertaste. Yeah, we'll call it rustic.
Or we'll be making a last-minute jaunt to Costco for one of their apple pies.

Happy Thanksgiving!

My Aunt, the Martyr

I just had the following conversation with my dad's sister, via texting.

Aunt: Good morning. Would it be possible for u to bring down grammas cardtable with u? Mike is bringing down the bbq for Cary and doesn't have room.
Me: Sure, no problem =] (SIDENOTE: See how nice I'm being??)
Aunt: Thank u. We're thinking for dinner and the puzzle it would be a good thing. We're going to head down to Pacific City in a bit to watch the surfers and have a crab cakes egg benedict, and a bloody mary ;-)
Me: You're killing me, Smalls! Tonight I'm making one of the desserts, which now I'm debating sharing with everyone =P
Aunt: Hmmmm. I'm doing it for gramma really....it's a sacrifice....
Me: Oh sure. Just like I sacrifice for the economy at the Black Friday Sales!
Aunt: Yeah, something like that. And I do so enjoy being a martyr :-)

CRUEL, I TELL YOU!!! Most of my family is at the beach, and I'm here in the city for 2 more days for work. The injustice of it all is hard to bear sometimes.

The Rules of Chocolate

If you've got melted chocolate all over your hands, you're eating it too slowly.

Chocolate covered raisins, cherries, orange slices and strawberries all count as fruit, so eat as many as you want.

The problem: How to get 2 pounds of chocolate home from the store in a hot car. The solution: Eat it in the parking lot.

Diet tip: Eat a chocolate bar before each meal. It'll take the edge off your appetite, and you'll eat less.

If calories are an issue, store your chocolate on top of the fridge. Calories are afraid of heights, and they will jump out of the chocolate to protect themselves.

If I eat equal amounts of dark chocolate and white chocolate, is that a balanced diet? Don't they actually counteract each other?

Money talks. Chocolate sings. Beautifully.

Chocolate has many preservatives. Preservatives make you look younger. Therefore, you need to eat more chocolate.

Put "eat chocolate" at the top of your list of things to do today. That way, at least you'll get one thing done.

A nice box of chocolates can provide your total daily intake of calories in one place. Now, isn't that handy?

If you can't eat all your chocolate, it will keep in the freezer. But if you can't eat all your chocolate, what's wrong with you?

If not for chocolate, there would be no need for control top pantyhose. An entire garment industry would be devastated. You can't let that happen, can you?

Allow me to introduce you

I have bad knees. I have size 11 feet, aka skiis. I like to wear my pants a little longer in the leg to allow more freedom in footwear choices (heels, flats, the like). Keeping these facts in mind, the footwear choices are a bit slim. At least if I'm looking for cute women's shoes, as opposed to the men's running shoes I have to buy on occassion.

That is, if your definition of "on occasion" is 90% of the time, since most shoemakers haven't caught up with the common era and have realized that not everyone is the perfect sample-size-7.


Anyways.


Allow me to introduce you to a modern-day miracle of footwear.


-sigh-

Isn't it beautiful!?

Yes, my fine feathered friends, this is the classic patent-leather peep-toe slingback heel, made by Mr. Cole Haan. A shoe designer who has gone where no other non-athletic shoe designer has gone before, and teamed up with Nike to pair his shoes with the Nike Air technology. Which means that with any other shoe, my entire body would be in agony after wearing these shoes for a day. BUT. with these beauties, I am literally walking on air all day. And you have to admit, the black patent-leather is such a classic, it will never go out of style. Which, in addition to the Nike comfort-factor, is probably a reason these puppies run about $300/pair.

But that's where my shoe fairy tale actually comes true. Not only did I find these 3 years ago at Nordstrom, only dreaming of the day when I could call a pair my own. Not only have I gone back time and time again to drool over them on display. Not only did I find them in a size 11 at the Rack (the shoe haven for all plus-sized shoe wearers.)

Oh no. What really puts the icing on the cake is that I paid $80. TOTAL. Location, size, price, and comfort? Now THAT is a modern-day fairy tale.



Mock me if you will, but after so many years of uncomfortable and ugly shoes on my feet, I've come to appreciate this amazingness for what it really is.

The Ugly Truth

It's an unfortunate fact of life that there are homeless people, many of them living in the metropolitan areas of cities. Whenever you walk around downtown Portland, 9 times out of 10 a homeless person will ask for money or food. While Jesus told us to care for the homeless, in this day and age, you never know if the money you give will go towards food and shelter or an addictive drug habit. Which is why, 9 times out of 10, I ususally say, "I'm sorry," and walk away.

Unfortunate, but true.

Today was one of those rare times where a guy, sitting in the rain, shivering, asked me for money. Now, granted, I was on my lunch break and in a hurry to get to the library and back in my alotted 45 minutes, but the minute I said, "No, sorry," I had an "aha" moment and remembered that Jesus asked, "When I was hungry, did you give me food? When I was thirsty, did you give me something to drink?" I decided that on my way back, if he was there, I would give that man some money. I passed him on a different corner on my way back, gave him some money, and could honestly see some gratitude in his eyes -- a feeling that helps me feel like I'm doing the right thing.

However.

As I continued on my way back, I passed some punk-ass kids sitting by the animal fountains by the courthouse, holding a sign that said, "Trying to get drunk." Now, normally I'm the kind of person who thinks something along the lines of idiot kids, and pass by, but for some reason today was the day where it sent my blood boiling. I actually stopped and told those kids in the nastiest voice I could muster "Yeah, good luck with that," and continued walking. I mean, I'm sorry, I usually try not to judge, since one can never know the full story of the people living that life. But when there are people living on the street because their house foreclosed, or they lost their job, or some other truly sad event, doing everything they can just to get by. And then you see punk-ass kids not finishing high school, not trying to become productive members of society -- no, they're sitting begging for money so they can get drunk, fall down and crack their head open, and then go to the hospital where I, a productive tax-paying citizen, get the privilege to pay their bills. And then they feel that they are entitled to free healthcare, giving them another excuse to drink without consequence.

If you want to be "honest" about the use of the money you're begging for -- fine. But don't expect me to contribute MY hard-earned money towards YOUR unhealthy habits. Finish your education and learn what a healthy lifestyle really means.

It's Raaaaing, it's poooooooouring, the old man is snooooooring

Welcome to Oregon, the land of perpetual winter rain.

Last year after a spring of torrential rains, my car started leaking underneath the dashboard on the drivers side. Which meant that the floorboards of the drivers side were always nice and sopping wet – a great feeling when you had to drive in heels. Since the car was still technically the property of my parents, they paid to get it fixed while I was home for Christmas break. The problem was traced back to a cracked drainage pipe that had also gotten clogged with Portland’s finest pine needles. After patching the drainage pipe, clearing out the clog and my dad paying the bill (thanks Dad!) I was on my way, to enjoy the rest of the spring rains blissfully dry in my nice warm car. I thought my problems were over.

Silly me.

So imagine my justified annoyance when I got in my car yesterday to go to work, and was welcomed with a quarter-inch of water resting peacefully on the floor of my car…this time, on the passenger side.

Sh*t. Seriously!?

And of course it’s on a day that I’m already running late. I ran inside to grab a beach towel to soak up as much of the water as I could, and then threw it in the garage to hopefully start drying out. When I finally got to work, first thing I did (after calling my dad to complain) was to call the Ford dealership to bring my car in first thing Saturday morning. My boss overheard, and his oh-so-helpful suggestion was, “Well back in the day when cars were much simpler we would just drill a hole in the bottom to let the water drain out.” Oh THANKS, that’s a fabulous suggestion. I’d rather NOT, thankyouverymuch. So, now I get to go without a car for the weekend while it’s getting fixed and pay through the nose to boot, all so that my car won’t leak and therefore smell like mold for the rest of its lifetime.

On a much brighter note, I’m getting little reminders everywhere I go about what season is coming up (or is it already here? According to the Target ad, The Season was here in October). The flower shop in my building already has decorated Christmas trees in the window, there are miniature Christmas trees around Pioneer Square, and there are twinkle lights wrapped around all the trees. I’ve decided to show some uncharacteristic restraint this year and wait for the tinsel-wrapped light-post decorations before watching Love Actually and Just Friends (the quintessential Christmas-movies of our generation, you know), breaking out the *NSYNC Christmas album, and baking Christmas cookies.

Fortunately, that basically means waiting until Monday.

Future

I live with my grandmother, who isn't exactly what you would call 'tech-savvy,' or even 'tech-literate.' In fact, I kind of think that today's electronics intimidate her a little bit. But, then again, I don't really blame her. When my grandpa was alive, he took care of anything electronic in the house: checking smoke alarms, checking e-mail, recording TV shows on the VCR, heck, even setting the alarm clock. After he died, not only was it a shock for her to start living life as an elderly widow, but also to take all of these tasks on herself. I remember the night we tried to teach her something as simple as setting the alarm clock. It took a good 30 minutes, along with written instructions, and 2 years of practice before she finally got it down. Two years ago, my aunt and uncle got her a DVD player -- the entire machine has about 3 buttons on it (they claimed it was "foolproof.") Even with written instructions, I still have to be home in order for her to watch a DVD.

And this isn't necessarily a bad thing -- just another part of the generation gap. And it goes both ways; I know that my great-grandmother would have been appaled to know that I not only don't know how to knit, but I have never canned a fruit or vegetable in my life. But it makes me wonder, what kinds of things will intimidate me when I'm my grandmother's age? No one can really imagine what kinds of things are going to exist tomorrow, much less 50 years from now. Will I be as confused with technology as she is? Will my grandchildren be rolling their eyes at me when I ask what I assume is a legitimate question? Will I be completely baffled by something as easy as ordering a pizza for dinner? (I'm having flashbacks to 'Back to the Future' with that one).

Can you tell I've been reading 'The Time Travelers Wife'?

Check!

Kourtney's Bucket List:

#57 Learn the words to Johnny Cash's 'I've Been Everywhere'

#24 Learn to snowboard

#3 Attend a Papal Mass

#18 Become fluent in Spanish

# 35468168084684 Wake up to the dulcent tones of a puppy puking...on carpet....two feet from my head....at 5:23am. -- check!

And you want to know the part that annoys me the most? Not that she chose to puke underneath my desk as far back as she could to make cleaning that much more difficult, not the fact that she chose to puke right on the rug that I had cleaned just yesterday when she had an "accident" while I was at the gym, not that she looked at me with those adorable big brown eyes right when she did it, not that I woke up to the sounds of retching...

Nope, what annoyed me the most was that it happened a full 20 minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off. Figures.

Monday: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Yesterday was just one of those days where you wake up knowing that the rest of the day is going to go downhill from there. The following is a somewhat-condensed version of my day:

- 3:57am. Wake up, realize that it's really better for my health if I skip the gym and go back to sleep. Pat puppy on the head, set alternative alarm, and fall back into a blissful slumber.

-6:27am. Wake up to an adorable puppy-face about an inch from my nose. Realize that it helps to not only set the alternative alarm, but make sure to realize that the volume on said alarm is actually loud enough to wake up to. Lack of alarm volume causes one not to wake up on time at 5:45, but rather 45 minutes later. Race around the house with a puppy on my heels, trying to get out the door.

-Forget to give dog her allergy meds. At least she got fed, right?

-Since I woke up late, I didn't have time to drink my first cup of coffee. Had to throw it down the sink and go to Plan B (Diet Coke from the fridge to drink later in the day).

-Jump in my car at 7:14 to drive to bus stop. Bus stop is 4 mintues from house. Necessary bus arrives at the stop at 7:17. Do the math. End up missing the first bus and almost missing the second. Fortunately the bus driver was either sympathetic or entertained at the sight of my attempt to run to the bus with a bag, purse, a bag of homemade muffins and coffee cup in hand while wearing 3-inch heels. Barely made it and had to endure the glares of the other early-morning-bus-commuters who scorn me for making the bus sit at the stop for -gasp!- an extra full minute.

-Get to work and start wading through the weekends accumulated e-mail pile. Set out homemade muffins, quite smug in my baking abilities.

-Realize that I spent the entire bus ride and half of my morning with my pants' fly wiiiiiiiide open. Classy.

- Put plate of muffins in kitchen, only to realize that they didn't rise, and therefore have the density of a rubber Yoga brick. Silently curse the low-fat muffin recipe from Mr. Google.

- Sit through 2-hour conference call, and graciously accept my new lengthy to-do list for the day.

-Realize that the spreadsheet I started on Friday that I believed to be half done is sadly only about one-eighth of the way done. Mentally curse my mathematical abilities and race yet again to finish the spreadsheet to send to its rightful owner.

-Eat lunch at my desk, still working on the spreadsheet.

-Change clothes and attempt to gracefully haul 5 large packages to the UPS store to be shipped. 4 of these packages are going to Europe. Am astounded at the prices UPS wants to charge for one stinkin' package ($160!!!!!), and resort to calling my boss to see if he really wants that lovely tracking feature. Get the much-nicer equivalent of "HELLZ NO!!" and resort to the good old USPS for a much more reasonable rate. Send packages and then proceed out into the crisp Fall day for my daily 4-mile walk.

-Have a lovely chat with my mom, who listens to all of my woes and offers friendly over-the-counter advice. Send up a silent prayer of thanks to God for such a wonderful mother.

-Get back to work and change into work attire. Feverishly finish spreadsheet and start working on the rest of my to-do list.

-Yeah, definitely didn't finish that spreadsheet. But in my defense, I got the whole thing sent out, and then it needed some revisions.

-Left work a few mintues late -- and when riding public transit, every minute counts. In the end, I actually made it on the bus that gets me home quicker. Then I went home, changed, threw the dog in the car for a quick jaunt to the dog park for an hour, and finally came home for the evening.

But even though there was a whole lot that didn't go well during my day, here are a few of the things that did go right:

When I got home, I got to make these:

And I had this precious little beauty who was happy to see me:

And this was the view that I got on my walk:


I guess I'll take the good with the bad. But I still wish that I hadn't woken up so late that I forgot to zip my own pants. I have a feeling that the day would have been a lot better if I had remembered that little detail.

Done with Denial

Hello, my name is Kourtney, and I'm a bakaholic.

Group: "Hello, Kourtney."

Whew. Glad I finally got that out in the open.

I love to bake. I love to cook. My favorite room in any house is the kitchen. My internet favorites folder is full of multiple subfolders, full of links to recipes that I've tried and love, or am chomping at the bit to try. I'm like a kid in a candy store when the Williams Sonoma catalogue comes out, and don't even get me started on how excited I get for family gatherings, and I get the opportunity to work some culinary magic in the kitchen.

The really sad reality is that I hate cooking for myself. In my opinion, there's nothing more depressing than cooking for one. Most of the time, I eat oatmeal, egg frittatas, or soup for dinner, simply because I can't bring myself to get the kitchen totally destroyed for one measley person. Basically, I need to cook for a group of people, a crowd, someone or something to appreciate the work and fun I had. Which may explain why I'm already scouring the internet for Thanksgiving dessert recipes to consider. Because it really will take me from now to November 26 to decide what to make.

For example: tonight my good friend B is coming over for dinner. So in honor of a dinner partner and someone besides myself to cook for, I'm making linguine with chicken thigh marinera, spinach salads, and fresh Snickerdoodles (his favorite cookie) for dessert. Tomorrow night I've already decided that I need to try a new recipe, so I'm making dinner for myself and my grandma (aka roommate). A new recipe that incorporates SO many of my favorite foods: pasta, butternut squash, BACON, and spinach. Groan. How can this not be good? Another favorite pasttime is taking an old favorite recipe, and tweaking it to (hopefully) improve it. Another example: Oatmeal cake with toasted coconut-pecan glaze became Oatmeal Apple Spice cake with Toasted Coconut-Pecan glaze with the addition of powdered sugar to make it a bit more sweet. Definitely a winner from all reports.

Anyways. I've been thinking about taking a class at our local community college, simply to learn something new, get out of the house, and hopefully meet some new people. I was talking to my mom this morning, and mentioned how much I'd like to take a community education class and started looking at the different class options. I kid you not, the first words out of her mouth were, "Kourtney, don't even THINK about taking a cooking class." See how well this woman knows me? That EXACTLY what I was thinking of taking, but considering I'm going on NutriSystem again (the last 10 pesky pounds that I didn't lose last time are going to LEAVE. FOR. GOOD.), it probably isn't a good idea to take a cooking class, where the homework involves calories that would most likely take up (semi-) permanent residence on my hips. Or at least the hips of my coworkers. I don't really see either scenario ending well. Looks like I'll end up taking a class that actually has some use in life, like caligraphy or ceramics pottery. The kind of stuff that will undoubtably be featured on the next Man vs. Wild episode.

Dear Kourtney, circa 1996

Dear Kourtney,

Yes, this is a letter from the future you. Don't ask how this works, because I don't know either. I just know that there are a few little tidbits that it wouldn't hurt you to know as you continue on this crazy ride called life. Pay attention, because these pearls of wisdom will play themselves out in your future, and you'll want to be prepared.

Costa Rica -- when you go to Costa Rica during your sophomore year in high school, DO NOT room with Amy, and don't let her borrow your stuff. And bring enough bug repellant to cover the entire group. And don't let mom talk you out of bringing your CD player, because those bus rides are long and in need of muscial entertainment.
Lawn mowing -- when dad teaches you to use the riding lawn mower, pay attention. Do it right the first time, and it'll save you a lot of eye-rolling and second, third, and fourth trips back outside to do it right.
Also related: don't chase the dog while riding the tractor. It's all too easy to run into the trampoline which results in getting yelled at by dad.
Middle School -- no other way to put it, but middle school is going to be hell. Put up with the teasing, since you'll learn a lot from it. but quit being so damn uptight all the time! learn to go with the flow without losing your own morals, mmmk?
High school volleyball -- you're going to put up with a lot of shit, especially senior year. Don't be afraid of the evil coach, and don't be too disappointed when you get put on the JV team at camp senior year. You'll be MVP and throw it back in the coaches face in the long run. Oh, and you're going to sprain your ankle REALLY bad on senior night. Don't let that get to you, either.
Choosing a college -- definitely go with UP. you'll make some of the best friends of your life there. And you'll appreciate it the most during the spring of your freshman year, when you were able to be there when Grandpa dies (hate to give that away, but at least now you know to appreciate all the time you have left)
Summer, 2008 -- go ahead and live with the grandparents, and enjoy your time at the internship that lets you graduate from college early. Living with them will be one of the hardest things you'll ever do, but you learn a lot and you become closer with mom and dad.
Comfort zone -- leave it every once in a while! you'll regret it if you don't get a chance to try new things.
college advice -- CD is a Godsend for being your math tutor. Listen to mom and dad sophomore year during the roommate fight. don't rebel as much freshman year, learn to compromise. turn on the heat senior year. appreciate the time you have there. and stay away from those delicious cookies in the cafeteria -- you'll regret it later if you don't!
eating habits -- speaking of which, you're going to get hypothyroidism when you turn 15. it messes with your metabolism, so you'll have to work twice as hard as everyone else to stay healthy. take your medicine, you'll learn to love the gym, and spinach isn't that bad after all.
moving -- you're going to move away from WA right after graduation from high school. it actually turns out to be a great thing, so embrace it! don't worry, briney turns out to be a great friend, and don't date every guy that comes along.
also, don't post important stuff that you'd rather not make public on the internet. you'd think you'd know better, but it takes a tough lesson to learn it the hard way.
spanish -- take the chance and minor in spanish in college. and don't be afraid to speak up in class, it's the best way to learn. and keep studying it so you don't lose it!
europe -- you'll study abroad in spain in college. speak spanish as often as you can't, don't eat the shrimp your host mom cooks for you, bring an extra-large USB drive, and be sure to take the earlier bus back from barcelona.

best of luck -- you'll need it

"Pimp My Bed: The Male Sleep Lair" -- SERIOUSLY!!?!?

"Bed makers are manning up.

"After years of catering to women, manufactuers are setting their sights on men. The new macho mattresses they're introducing have 'muscle-recovering properties' and cooling technology, on the theory that men are more likely to feel too hot in bed. The bed frame features built-in TV's, iPod docking stations, wine coolers, a safe, and other guy-friendly gadgetry.

"...a 33-yr.-old real-estate investor in Philadelphia, paid $30,000 for a Hollandia Internaitonal adjustable bed that offers a built-in 32-inch Sony flat-screen TV, surround-sound speakers and outlets for laptops.

"The new man-cave is the bed."



Seriously?!



I kid you not.

I'm sorry, but don't most women have a hard enough time getting their boyfriend/husband out of bed and away from the TV? In my opinion, this is either genius of the demise of the human race as we know it. Either the world will crumble since most men won't want to get out of bed in the mornings and continue their normal routine (actually, we're quite safe from this, since I didn't read where they had installed a toilet at the foot of the bed), OR it could be brilliant if the men don't want to leave their "man lair" -- leaves women to run the world!

After all, "When men get bored, they start a war. When women get bored, they go shopping."

See? I think we've found the solution to world peace, all from the comforts of our own bed/wine cooler/TV stand/iPod dock/outlet station.

Now how many do you want to bet they actually sell of these things?

pop-culture commentary -- because i know you care what i think

Totally agreeing with EW's commentary on why we love DWTS, but in this season, WHERE IS MARK BALLAS, otherwise known as the GUILTY-PLEASURE REASON I WATCH THE SHOW.
(UPDATE: Appears that Mark Ballas appeared on night two of the 3-night show, and is partnered with Melissa Joan Hart, aka Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Even though I'm not sure they'll be the team to win, they're by-far my favorite team! Thinking Aaron Carter is going to win, though...)

LOVE Glee, despite it's awkward moments, especially the Push It dance and the dancing with balloons as spacers.

J&K+8 = enough, Jon, ENOUGH. Seriously. But I loved the story that the (hopefully ex-) nanny told InTouch about how he's not that great in bed. Et tu, karma?

The New Moon stills on The LA Times website -- be still, my beating heart. But honestly, only for the ones of Taylor Lautner and his marvelous, fantastic, sizzling, eye-popping abs. -sigh-

The Emmys: thought Debra Messing looked stunning, and didn't agree with the critics hating Hayden P's dress. I thought it looked great, but maybe I'm just partial to the color red. or maybe I just don't have good fashion sense -- wouldn't surprise me.

Obama on Letterman. Seriously, dude, don't you have some better things do to rather than endorse your celebrity status? Like, running the country? Investigating the ACORN scandal (for more info, go read about it at FOXnews.com)? Getting the troops out of Iraq like you promised to do "within 60 days of taking office"? Yeah buddy, might want to get your priorities straight.

A Thought-Provoking Fire Drill

Yesterday, the building I worked in had a scheduled fire drill. However, in an attempt to prevent distrupting the workday as much as possible, they ran the drill in 2 different waves. The lower level though 10th floor went in the morning, and then 11-19 had their drill in the afternoon. It wasn't that bad, and it gave us a nice excuse to walk outside and enjoy the sunshine for 20 minutes while the rest of the floors filed out of the building.

As we learn from a young age, during a fire drill or an actual emergency, the elevators won't be in operation, so the stairwells are the only available exit. As my coworkers and I followed the herd down the stairs, I couldn't help but think how different the atmosphere would be if it was an actual fire. The panic, the stress, the worry about loved ones or the important files we left in our desks.

Then I realized what the date was. September 10th. And that tomorrow [or now, today] would be September 11. I can't even begin to imagine the panic and adrenaline that people must have felt as they rushed down the stairs, not knowing if the World Trade Center or Pentagon was going to collapse on top of them at any minute. It's at that point in your life when you realize all the things that you worried about before -- the unpaid bills, that extra 10 pounds that you're REALLY going to lose this time, trying to get the kids to soccer practice -- become insignificant. I know that if I were in that position (and thank the Lord Almighty that I wasn't, and I didn't personally know anyone who was), I would be thinking of all the things I would do, if I just had one more day. The things I wouldn't worry about, the things that I would tell my loved ones, the things that I would have wished I had been able to do.

Nine-eleven. I don't think that even 50 years from now when this date comes, I will forget to take a moment and pray for those 2,993 people who died. The firement, police officers, EMTs, and civilians who lost their lives at the hand of terrorism and hate. The people who were left behind to deal with the loss, those who spent months of their lives at Ground Zero, shifting through the debris, dreading the moment when they would find a body part and have to tell yet another family that their loved one had perished. I won't forget that when I first heard of the attacks, I was listening to the radio and brushing my teeth, getting ready for school. I won't forget thinking, "Oh, a plane crashed. Even though that's awful, they happen all the time." (I didn't yet know that they had crashed into the WTC towers). I won't forget sitting in my Spanish classroom, watching the horror unfold on the news, and my teacher asking us how many believed a war would follow this event. I won't forget looking around the classroom, and seeing 95% of my classmates raise their hands, along with my own. Or the worry that the Hanford Nuclear Plant would be a potential target. Or the pictures in the newspaper the next day, showing the smoking towers, reading about the heroic passengers who forced the highjackers to crash their plane in a remote Pennsylvania field, or the "jumpers," who would have rather crashed into the pavement below than die from the smoke and flames engulfing their offices.

America will always remember 9/11/2001 as a variety of things: the day of the largest attack since Pearl Harbor, Patriot Day, or the eveny that started the War on Terror. While I too will remember it with these labels, I will also remember it as a day to reflect on my life, and how fragile it truly is. We will always remember those who lost their lives, and those they left behind. And what we can learn from it all -- we live in the most powerful, wonderful, free country in the world. And no act of terror will ever change that.

Rantings and Random Ramblings

This is just one of those weird weeks, you know? The kind where you don't work on Monday (but still got paid for it -- sweeeeeeeeeet) so the rest of the week is screwed up because you can't remember what day it is, and that just messes up the internal body clock like no other. At least it's Friday!! Anyways....

1. Anyone else tired of hearing about politics all the dang time? I mean, I'm no Obama fan (FAR from it, actually), but seriously, folks. Let's not make this harder than it already is! But, as I read once, the term 'politics' reflects so perfectly the true nature of the profession: poli, from the Greek word meaning 'many,' and -tics, which are tiny bloodsucking creatures. Call me young, call me ignorant, but "CAN'T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG?!?!?"

2. "If I find the misogynistic bastard that invented heels, I'll kill him." Can I get a second, ladies? Yesterday I made the unfortunate decision to wear some (quite fabulous) heels on my walk to the library. On the 16 blocks there, I was just fine and dandy. 9 blocks into the return trip, I'm starting to regret my decision. After the full 32 blocks and I'm limping my way into the lobby of my building, the blisters on top of my feet are screaming in agony. And now I'm thinking of investing in the Band-Aid brand, since I've probably used enough of their product in the last 24 hours to greatly increase their stock value. You're welcome, Johnson&Johnson.

3. I'm sorely tempted to start buying my lunch at the cafeteria in the building next door every day. I mean, where else can you get a LOADED small salad, made exactly to your specifications, with virtually no prep work, all for less than $4? That's right, my spinach salad with cherry tomatoes, red bell pepper, artichoke hearts, mushrooms, peas, sunflower seeds, grilled chicken, topped off with fat-free honey mustard dressing was ONLY $3.64!!! If you add up the cost of the ingredients plus the time and labor involved in prepping it, I bet that it's actually more than $3.64.

4. I've recently discovered that gummie bears make the best pre-workout snack at 4am. Just a handfull will do.....which means I've greatly depleted my grandmother's 6-lb. bag from Costco. Must remember to refill that, plus stock extra fortifications for future use.

5. I missed the new episode of Ace of Cakes last night -- sad. My newfound addiction to the Food Network is becoming quite alarming....although it must be said that last night's Food Network Challenge Disney Celebration Cakes was, to say the least....WICKED.

6. Remember from a previous post how there's the creepy guy who walks by the front door of our office and always stares at me? And I'm not talking just a quick glance and a smile, maybe a little wave, like the rest of his coworkers do. No, this guy gives the whole-body "glance" EVERY time he walks by. And now that he has taken to pulling his long-ish hair back into a ponytail (guys, please do us ladies a favor: when you're in your 50s, 60s, heck, even 40s, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT think it's cool to have a ponytail when you're already half bald. It's not a pretty sight and just helps your "creeper" effect). Long story short, this guy has gotten so creeper-ific that I actually had a nightmare the other night, and he was the main guy in it. Now we've reached a whole new level of scary.

7. FALL IS COMING!! Seriously -- maybe it's because it's the first year that I haven't gone back-to-school shopping or dreaded the end of summer, but for some reason, this year I'm SO ready for Fall. Ready for the leaves to change, sweaters, peacoats, and the crisp morning air. Ready to take walks in the early evening and smile as I hear the crunch of the fallen leaves under my feet, and tuck my gloved hands deep into the pockets of my favorite NorthFace coat. Ready for the gas fireplace and my fleece blanket on my bed at night. Ready for candles and pumpkin spice. Can you tell that Fall is my favorite time of the year? Don't even get me started on all the baking opportunities this time of year presents....

-- starts to daydream--

8. I'm so ready for Fall that I'm even thinking past Fall, and going straight for Christmas. Besides the start of the Fall lineup (anyone else going to be watching Grey's, Private Practice and The Office online because the shows are on past their bedtime? No? Well bugger off and stop laughing, I get up at 4am). My sister and I go crazy around the beginning of November, because that means that Christmas is right around the corner. Only problem is, my roommate doesn't allow any mention of Christmas carols, cookies, or decorations before the strike of midnight on November 30. But I'm ready for it all now -- to hear Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera sing their pop Christmas songs, the NSYNC Christmas album, decorating the tree, pouring over cookbooks, trying to decide what kinds of cookies to make this year, and wrapping presents. And no, I'm not one of those sick people who knows exactly what they're getting everyone, and has the presents wrapped and ready to go on December 1. Please, I'm not THAT crazy. I think.

Directions: Open Mouth, Insert Foot

Let's just say that when it comes to me and math....it's like trying to force two opposite magnets together. Math and I DO NOT. GET. ALONG. Like mixing oil and water, fire and ice, or Britney Spears and modesty, some things in this life are just never meant to be together.

Needless to say, during college, my worst grades came from my math classes. The only way I got through Business Calculus, Finite Math, Statistics, Finance, and my Accounting classes was by sitting next to my good friend CD who took pity on me, and was basically my math tutor during my entire college career.

Bless his generocity, patience, and pity. I seriously don't know how he put up with me.

Anyways. That little bit of background info was necessary for the story I'm about to share.

Even though my math classes brought me nothing but pain and sadness during my time in college, I was fortunate enough to have a couple great teachers. Great teachers who knew that the subject they were teaching wasn't the most thrilling topic in the world, so they'd throw in a few personal stories to liven up the class. One of these such teachers was Dr. L.

My favorite story from Dr. L takes us back to his home state of Kentucky. Dr. L grew up in the lovely bluegrass state, but moved out to Oregon later in life. Well, unfortunately, a few years ago, Dr. L had to return home to attend his mother's funeral. Well, funerals, weddings, and births are all basically one big reunion -- you see people you haven't seen in years, and it's a "great" time to reminice about years past, catch up, and make false promises to get together "soon." After the funeral, Dr. L attended the memorial dinner, where he saw people he hadn't seen since his youth. A few times, someone would walk up to him and ask, "Do you remember me?" And, with a touch of regret, he'd answer, "You know, I know that I should know who you are, but since it's been about 20 years, unfortunately I don't. Would you mind just reminding me?" Through this routine, he was able to catch up with his old piano teacher, a coach from high school, and some long-lost friends he hadn't talked to in years.

Later on in the afternoon, a woman walked up and tapped him on the shoulder. As he turned around, she smiled at him and asked, "You don't remember me, do you?" So Dr. L went into his (now well-used) schpeal about how he knew that he should recognize or remember her, but unfortunately it's been a while, could she refresh his memory?

At this point, Dr. L. paused and looked around the classroom, and said 5 chilling words:

"It was my first wife."

The room erupted in laughter as Dr. L. blushed and got a sheepish look on his face. "It had been 20 years!" he yelled, "People's looks change in that amount of time!"

Just one of those moments where you wish floor would open up and swallow you whole, don't you agree?

New Years Interview -- Round 1

This year, a few days before New Years Eve, I'm traveling to Philly, where I'll meet up with my college girlfriends for a much-needed reunion, and will then proceed to make our way up to New York City for New Years Eve. Now, the plan is not for us to stand in Times Square with 2 million other people, freezing our butts off and heightening the risk of getting mugged, molested, or lost. No, our plan is to find a nice, heated, well-stocked bar, complete with a bathroom, to sit in for the entire night, and watch the ball drop from the comfort of our own table.

Only one minor problem with this: 4 girls. New Years Eve. Booze. Jolly times. What is missing from this picture?

Traditionally, when the clock strikes twelve on new years, every girl is hoping for a New Years Kiss.

And not just from any average joe. Sure, for the small-town girl such as myself, I would definitely shy away from kissing a complete stranger (did they brush their teeth!?), but now that I'm living in the big city (shut UP, Portland is big!) I'm looking to expand my horizons. Within reason.

Therefore, while contemplating this dilemma, my friend Grace came up with a genius solution -- prequalifying interviews! You may think I'm joking, but I can assure you in all honesty that something very similar to the following will happen on their next trip to NYC...or our friend's brother's frat house at Columbia:

You there! BOY!! Come here!! (I feel like talking like an old woman will be best) What are you plans for new years eve? None? Excellent!! How would you like to be guaranteed to have a beautiful older woman to kiss at midnight? Exactly . . . for only one low price of . . . no I kid. Anyway - you need to pass a slight background check of sorts. For starters, you'll be happy to know you've passed the physical appeal test. I picked you out from across the room based on the fact that you were fairly attractive and I couldn't smell you from where I was. Now let me ask you a few questions . . .

- are you single?
- are you ok with just hanging out for a night - no extras unless you get lucky - and no strings? If you become a stage 4 clinger I will have to terminate you!
- when was the last time you cried? If recently was it over a sad movie, from laughing, from actual saddens like a death, or from something sissy like your period?
- Fill in the blank - when a girl says she's cold you . . . (acceptable answers include - give her your coat, wrap your arms around her, buy her a hot drink, buy her a heater, rent her a luxury box somewhere with better/warmer viewing) (incorrect answers include - telling her she should have dressed warmer, informing her that if she were as smart as you she would have dressed warmer, informing her that she's annoying you, or just abandoning her in some form or another)
- Fill in the blank - when you are out drinking with a girl your end goal is to . . . (acceptable answer include - have fun, enjoy yourselves, hope to get a kiss/whatever but let it take a natural progression with only minimal alcoholic involvement, ect.) (incorrect answers include - get her wasted so as to take advantage of her, have her friends get her wasted and then take advantage of her, coerce her friends into abandoning her drunk *ss with you and then taking advantage of her) (other answers that will get you shot on the spot include - slip her something, or offer to pay her something ect.)
- True or False - if a girl is drunk and says she'll figure out a way to get home alone you leave her (FALSE!!! Not only do you not leave her you accompany her home and make sure she is safe and will not die overnight!)
- True or False - in the short, perhaps 8 to 10 hour period we will spend together is it acceptable to discuss our feelings and or have other deep emotional conversations. (Probably not - exceptions can be made but safe to say LEAVE THE BAGGAGE AT HOME WOMAN!!!)

Thank you for you time. Now let me remind you that should you violate any of the Grace's Super Fun rules by being a woman, annoying, PMSy, or other wise a general pain in my ass I will hurt you. Now do not assume your mammoth size will save you. Because I will be in big heels and have a lot of rage. You do not want to see me angry - DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME YOUNG MAN!?!?! (insert death glare here). Now, if we have an agreement . . . yes we will embark on what is guaranteed to be a wonderful night of debauchery in NYC. Now run along . . . but consider yourself warned!! I'll be watching you very closely, so tread lightly, and watch your back.

I think we'll be able to get some good guys, don't you??

Early morning surprise

I live in Portland, right? The largest city in Oregon, with a metropolitan-population of about 500,000. Lots of people, cars, concrete, noise, and did I mention lots of people? (At least it seems like a lot of people to a girl who grew up in small towns.) Doesn't leave a lot of room for the indigenous wildlife.

So imagine my surprise this morning as I was driving back from the gym at 6am, and about a mile from my house, I stop the car dead in its tracks.

Why, you may ask?

Well, because I'm not a killer. I refuse to intentionally run over a poor, defenseless animal, even if it does look like this:

*Don't worry, I didn't take this picture. This is thanks to Mr. Google.

Yup, I almost flattened an opossum (not to be confused, I've learned, with the possum, which is a much cuter creature that lives in New Zealand). I stopped my car, and the stupid thing still didn't move. I finally inched my car forward, hoping to give it a "healthy" hint, and it finally ambled away into the grass-filled ditch on the other side of the road.

This is now just added to the list of things I've encountered on the road while living in Oregon. I have now seen raccoons, deer, a wolf carcas, and most recently, an opossum.

So much for "escaping nature" by living in the city. I guess those pesky animals didn't read the new zoning ordinances, did they?

Random thoughts for our generation....with social commentary by yours truly

Random thoughts from people our age...
-I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option. Soooo true. But in Portland, this may be a difficult task to accomplish in some neighborhoods.
-More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me. Don’t tell me you haven’t experienced this at one point or another.
-Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong. Or the point where you realize sometime down the road that the other person was right…and you now have to find a sneaky way to do what the other person said, only without them knowing it.
-I don't understand the purpose of the line, "I don't need to drink to have fun." Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they've invented the lighter? Note: in this case, I’m pretty sure they’re just using a lighter, not the lighter and lighter fluid. Comparison – glass of wine = lighter, AMF = lighter + gasoline.
-Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk. Oh sheesh, I do this ALL the time.
-I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger. I still firmly believe that we should adopt Spain’s practice of “la siesta.”
-Is it just me, or are 80% of the people in the "people you may know" feature on Facebook people that I do know, but I deliberately choose not to be friends with? I really don’t want to be “friends” with my friends’ parents, thankyouverymuch.
-Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft. Who came up with that as the magic cure, anyway? It totally always worked!
-There is a great need for sarcasm font. AMEN!
-Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the f was going on when I first saw it. Anyone else thinking of Fantasia?
-I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it. Well, that, or I’m the only one laughing when everyone else isn’t, and vice versa. I never said that I had a “normal” sense of humor.
-How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet? I have actually discovered the secret! Years and years of practice, my friends.
-I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in. I’M NOT LAZY, I’M EFFICIENT, DAMMIT!
- I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die. K or Generic, I’m giving this job to you.
-The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text. But of course I NEVER text and drive.
- A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.
- Was learning cursive really necessary? Honestly!
- Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say". It’s a great conversation filler, dontcha think? Lol.
- I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger. Oh goodness, ALL the time. But I think that’s partially due to genetics.
- Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying. Even more terrifying is comparing with your classmates after the test. “Oh you had all A’s? I was getting all C’s…..crap, I must have FAILED!”
- My brother's Municipal League baseball team is named the Stepdads. Seeing as none of the guys on the team are actual stepdads, I inquired about the name. He explained, "Cuz we beat you, and you hate us." Classy, bro.
- Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart". Whatever floats your boat, buddy.
- How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said? My rule of thumb is after 2, sometimes 3. Then it’s their own fault if you don’t understand.
- I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a dick from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers! Traffic brotherhood, boo-yah!
- Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in' examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse)..ummm...Goonies" Try it with getting really creative and see what people say. “Yes, that’s Kourtney….K as in kamikaze, o as in octagon, u as in ukulele…”
-What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other? AWESOME is what would happen. TV’s next new reality show, perhaps?
- MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood. With my sense of direction, this isn’t always true….or pretty.
- Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died. I’ve always thought this!
- I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water. Psh, probably the same people who go for the Polar swim every year. Crazies.
-Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever. Correction: jeans can get dirty (to the discretion of the wearer). Slacks/pants that require special cleaning never get dirty. Maybe once every few months or as necessary.
Also related –
- "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.
- I would like to officially coin the phrase 'catching the swine flu' to be used as a way to make fun of a friend for hooking up with an overweight woman. Example: "Dave caught the swine flu last night." “In addition to the H1N1 virus and obesity, a new epidemic is sweeping through the nation…”
-I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired. I believe it was 1992. The days where I still took a nap.
- Bad decisions make good stories. Addendum: after an acceptable amount of time has passed where the battle scars are still visible but the pain is not.
-Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do! Facebook = stalkerweb
- Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier & sluttier every year? Psh, not just high school girls. Middle school girls aren’t lookin’ too innocent these days, either. What are their parents thinking!!?
-If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring would probably just be completely invisible. Invisible, but with horrible fashion sense. Trench coats and striped shirts…I don’t think so.
-Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem.... Icebreakers are evil. Plain and simple.
-Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection. Honestly, what’s the big difference between DVDs and Blue-Ray? Not big enough to pay an extra $8/movie and re-buy my whole collection, no siree….
-I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?' This also applies to picking a movie to watch. ESPECIALLY on a date. Which none of my dates have seemed to realize the kind of pressure this task provides!
-I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?
- I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste. And it always ends up that the days where you put in no effort whatsoever into your appearance, that’s the one day you should have really put in the extra effort.
-When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking. Define “light”
-I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes. Definitely true.
- As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists. Anyone else see what happens to cyclists in Portland when road rage is involved? YouTube that video.
-I think the freezer deserves a light as well. Equality for all!
-I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay. HAHAHAHAHA.
-The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat-ass before dinner.

It's the little things in life that count

~ I've read more books for fun in the past 2 months than I've read in the last 4 years. And all because I wanted to, not because I would get tested on it.
~ I find peace simply by taking a walk by myself. If I happen to have a puppy with me, so much the better.
~ Baking brings me inner joy. And sometimes joy (but more often, annoyance) from my co-workers and family who get to sample the goods.
~ Who knew that Gummie Bears could count as a snack for breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner?
~ I love going to the gym and playing volleyball with no pressure whatsoever to do well, other than my own self-drive and pride. Never again will I be subject to a coach and the humiliation/frustration they deal out in droves.
~ Good can come from a broken car. It can be so nice to actually enjoy the wind blowing through the car windows, rather than cranking up the A/C

This post really has no point to it at all. Just had a moment of quiet reflection to realize that I don't need to spend a lot of money or rely on other people for happiness. The way I see it, we have two choices: to live our lives with the glass half-full, or go through life thinking that the world owes us something without working for it. There will be days where you feel like the world is falling apart at the seams, but God never gives us more than we can handle, which is the knowledge I need to get back up, re-evaluate my life, and get going again.

This is my e-mail Inbox

When you're as close to your sister as I am to mine, you will often get lovely e-mails, filled with love and witty anecdotes and recipes for chocolate cake.

Or...you could have a sister who is a nurse. That's when you get e-mails that start like this:

"Hi! Taking a brief moment from my patient's incessant diarrhea :-)."

Jealous, much? And don't even get me started on the sad tales that I'm lucky enough to hear over the dinner table. For example, a few of the popular topics are:

-- Firehose-power diarrhea
-- Projectile phlegm/loogies
-- Extra appendages....of the male persuasion

And her husband is going to school to be a nurse, too. -sigh-. Definitely a case where "Double the pleasure, double the fun" is NOT a true statement.

Attack of the Hormones

I can be honest here, right?

I should be able to -- it's my blog after all, and therefore I am it's ruler of the universe and make all the laws, decrees, and sactions that I want to. Because I can, that's why.

Okay, I'm glad we have that taken care of.

Back to my original question -- I can, in fact, be brutally honest here. I can say exactly what's on my mind, even if it differs from the opinions, thoughts, or socially acceptable norms of the rest of the world. What a relief.

Which means that I can say -- HORMONES. ARE. A. BITCH.
(Sorry for my language, mom, but you know it's true).

Today is one of those days where I don't know whether to laugh, cry, scream, or just yell at whoever is unlucky enough to be in the vacinity (which is truly a shame, because I really do like the people I work with). I also get to have the ever-present interal battle of what I want to eat. Meaning I want to eat everything in sight, even more so if it includes a chocolate milkshake and something baked with a lot of sugar and butter, but then I feel fat and bloated and don't want to cave in to the cravings, because honestly, these blasted hormones are not worth the extra cellulite!

GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
(wow, sometimes my articulate-ness astounds even me)

3 Things

I recently read a book where the main character had a good habit that I'm trying to pick up on: every time something unfavorable happened, she made herself think of 3 good things that had happened that were related to the main "bad" thing, and then somehow, the world seemed like a happier place.

Let's give this a try:

I've been casually dating JS* for a few weeks now. I like the guy -- he's great, is fun to hang out with, and seems to have his life together. Only bad thing is that he'll be going back to school in a month, so I'm not holding my breath on a lasting relationship. "Que sera, sera" and all that crap.
Anyways, tonight we were supposed to hang out. We saw each other on Friday, and had a great time, which is partly why I was so excited to hang out again tonight. But, alas, The Man intervened and prevented such a meeting from happening (tonight). Something about "blah blah blah steel girders blah work tonight blah I'M SORRY". At least I can take some comfort in the fact that I'm pretty sure he meant it. But still. It's one of those things where you don't realize how much you're looking forward to something until it doesn't happen.

So now we're trying our own version of home-remedy therapy.

Here goes:

1) I meant to make banana bread last night, but chose to play volleyball instead at 24-Hr. Now I can make some delectable banana bread for my grandmother.
2) This is the same grandmother who had a "no big deal cataract laser eye thing" done today, and who chose not to tell her granddaughter/roommate about, so now I can feel less guilty and go home to take care of my half-blinded grandmother.
3) My toenails are in dire need of a pedicure.

Huh. This isn't as hard as I thought. Might as well shoot for the stars and see how many good things I can think of.

4) I went to the gym last night AND this morning at 4am, just in case we were to go out to dinner at some place where I couldn't get something that was somewhat healthy for me. So now not only am I saving myself probably hundreds of calories, but I can feel better about the cake ball and snickerdoodle cookie that I ate today while I'm at home eating my usual dinner -- brown rice and steamed veggies.
5) "I'm rather fond of walking" (name that movie! One of my personal faves, but that's neither here nor there). Maybe tonight while the banana bread is in the oven and I make sure that my grandma has everything she needs, I can take a quick walk. To burn off some of the calories from the previously-mentioned sweet snacks.
6) I can feel more like the confident, independent, modern woman that I am....while checking my phone every 45 (ok, let's be honest....20) minutes for any texts I may have missed.
7) I can get to bed at a decent time. Since I got up early this morning to go to the gym, I thought that tomorrow would be killer since I wouldn't be getting home until late. Now, I can not only go to bed, but get a full night's sleep and go to the gym tomorrow, too! Even though Tuesday is usually my day off! BOO-YAH I KICK ASS.
8) I'm sure that there is at least an episode or two (or 230587239085) of Ace of Cakes that I really should catch up on. You know, to stay aware of cultural events, like cake decorating art.
9) I just got my hair cut, so I'm still working out how the new hairstyle is working. This gives me at least another day to perfect the new 'do before he sees it for the first time.
10) Hmmm, one more. Uhhh......oh! I BBQ'd some chicken last night, and didn't have time to clean the grill and put the cover back on. IT WILL BE DONE AND I WILL HAVE REACHED A NEW LEVEL OF SELF-ACTUALIZATION.

But I still wish I was going out tonight.






*That "protect the innocent" crap again. Just in case. Not that there's much of a chance that he reads this since he doesn't have internet at home, but ya never know...

One Smart Sassy Cookie

Can you imagine if everyone in the world judged everything by how it looked?

The homeless guy you see sitting on the corner, begging for money. He might have actually lost his job and everything he had, and has no where else to go.

The designer-sporting socialite wife -- sure, she looks like she has it all and a bag of chips. But is she in a happy marriage? Did her life turn out exactly like she wanted, or nothing like she wanted at all?

A classic (and my favorite) example: Dolly Parton. I mean, look at the woman. She's well-known for her country songs, mega-watt set of pipes, acting career and ample....uh...bosom (-shivers- I hate that word, ugh), but underneath that superficial-looking exterior is a woman who I look at in utter amazement. She started out in the backwoods of Tennessee (literally, with 11 siblings to boot), and grew up looking like a hooker/Barbie doll to become one of country music's biggest icons. Just look at a few of her quotes below, and tell me that she's just a dumb blonde.

~If you don't like the road you're walking, start paving another one.
~I had to get rich so I could afford to sing like I was poor again.
~If you want to see the rainbow you gotta put up with the rain.
~There's a heart beneath the boobs and a brain beneath the wig.
~After Momma gave birth to twelve of us kids, we put her up on a pedestal. It was mostly to keep Daddy away from her.
~I'm not offended by dumb blonde jokes because I know that I'm not dumb. I also know I'm not blonde.
~If I see something saggin', baggin' or dragin', I'm gonna have it nipped, tucked or sucked. (Referring to Plastic Surgery)
~Some of my dreams are so big they would scare you.
~I'll never harden my heart, but I've toughened the muscles around it.
~If there's a heaven, I hope to hell I go!
~It's when you treat people like freaks that you become one yourself.
~I was blessed to have family members who encouraged me to pursue my dreams. Whether it is your parents, or your uncles or your aunts or even the neighbor down the road, it's important that kids have someone who encourages them to chase their rainbow.
~Sometimes you see folks who have a negative view of dreamers - people who sit around all day on their hindquarters and do absolutely nothing. These folks aren't dreamers - they are just lazy. To me, dreaming is just part of being alive, inspired, and curious about the world.
To me, it's about dreaming in the day and in the night. Dreams have always helped me visualize my goals and aspirations. When I was a child, I could see me on stage singing my heart out. I could see what I was wearing and where I was going. I would visit that dream every single day and as I look back, my dreams kept me focused on what I wanted to do and the person I wanted to be.
~I have always been a firm believer in working hard for what is right and for making your own breaks if you want things to change.
~I'm on a seafood diet -- I see food, I eat it.
~I never, ever get involved in politics. With politics you are not allowed to be honest. I don't have time to deal with that. I would rather work with kids.
~[asked about political ambitions] Don't you think we've had enough boobs in the White House?
~On plastic surgery: I'm a proud person. I'm not vain. I look at it like it is. If you've got the money and you're going to be out there, you owe it to people not to look like a dog if you can help it.
~Find out who you are, and do it on purpose.

My "Friends" on the Bus

Riding public transit is a new experience for me. Before high school, I had never even been on a school bus (small, private Catholic schools usually can't afford or even need a bus system), and before college, the only public transit I had ever used was the Metro system in Washington DC. Sad, I know. In high school, I always had my car, and a private vehicle was a lot more reliable than a bus, especially in agricultural areas, aka the boonies. This being said, my first adventure on the bus was a unique one. I didn't sit next to anyone, and thought that only weirdos rode the bus. I was so thankful when my parents let me have my car at school 2 years later. The rest of my time at school, I avoided taking the bus whenever possible. The MAX system, though, was entirely acceptable. Don't ask me why.
Now that I'm on my own and working downtown, I was faced with a tough choice: either take the time, money, and stress to drive downtown every day and pay for parking (it's $15/day in my building, and $11.50/day across the street -- my job doesn't pay for parking), OOOOOOOOR I could just get a bus pass and take the bus to work everyday. I had it in my mind that the bus was the last possible resort, but after doing the math, I realized that $40/month for a bus pass was the much cheaper way to go (it's actually more expensive than that, but I have an awesome borhter-in-law who has agreed to buy them for me with his student discount).
And so, on my first day of work, I showed up to my bus stop a bit apprehensive of what was to come. The last time I rode a bus, I ended up next to a guy who had an aura about him that made me think he hadn't showered in quite some time, and the time before that, I sat next to a guy who picked his nose and ate it...for the entire ride. See why I wasn't too keen on getting on another bus?
After a while, I've now noticed who the regulars are on my buses. We don't ever really talk to each other, except to say "Good morning!" and maybe comment on the weather. And since I don't know their names and try to pass the time on the bus, I've taken to naming some of them. For example:

Frank: Frank is a nice guy. Somehow, he always manages to arrive just 2 minutes before the bus comes, while I'm always the one standing there for at least 8 minutes. Frank wears a wrist brace for some reason, but seems pretty normal. Plus, he has an OSU backpack that he carries everyday, thus making him above par. Frank is a good guy to sit next to.
Pam: Pam is always on my bus on the way home, rather than in the mornings. She has white hair, and seems pretty nice, even though we don't talk.
Lester: Oh, Lester. He's a mystery to me, but I've started to come up with a life story for Lester, even if it isn't true. Every day, he's on the bus when I get on, and manages to stare at me with icy blue eyes (don't worry, it isn't uncomfortable at all). And every day, he's wearing dirty blue jeans, a jean jacket with the elbows worn out, and his baseball cap. Every day, he gets off at the stop on 17th and McLoughlin, with a 6-pack of cheap beer in a 7-11 bag. Either Lester is the popular guy on the construction site, or he's had something rough happen in his life that leads him to have a relationship with his beer. Since I'm not brave enough to talk to him, let alone ask him about it, I guess I'll never know.
Michelle: Michelle also rides the evening bus, and has some pretty cute clothes, which I could also wear if I was a size 4. She has a tattoo of a paw print on her foot, and is currently reading the 4th Twilight book (Breaking Dawn, one of the better in the series). She's pretty punctual, too.

And then there's me, the girl who usually trips going up the stairs or manages to fall into someone's lap when the bus takes a sharp corner. Riding the bus is always a unique experience.

ABCs of KLK

A- age: 22
B- bed size: twin (would love to upgrade someday, when I have the space, money, and actual need to)
C- chore you hate: yardwork.
D- don't eat: hmmm, I eat almost anything. But I don't LIKE olives.
E- essential start your day item: coffee/caffeine.
F- favorite board game: Apples-to-Apples. Which I realize isn't technically a board game, but I'm making the rules here, and I say it counts!
G- gold or silver?: both. Depends on the outfit, dontcha know?
H- height: 5'9"
I- instruments you played: piano lessons for 9 years. learned how to play the ukilele in 4th grade, but don't remember how to now. I was also pretty skilled at the recorder. You know you're jealous.
J- job title: receptionist/personal assistant/office administrator.
K- kid(s): zero.
L- living arrangements: living with grandma in milwaukie. it's actually better than you'd think.
M- mom's name: Kellie
N- nicknames: Kourt, Kourts, Kourtsers, Tourts, Kiester, Smart-Ass-Little-Shit (my dad's personal favorite)
O- overnight hospital stay other than birth: none.
P- pet peeve: dirty dishes in the sink.
Q- famous movie quote: "Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people don't just kill their husbands. They just don't!"
R- right or left handed?: right
S- sibling(s): 1 amazing (older!) sister and an awesome brother-in-law.
T- time you wake up: gym days: 3:57am, non-gym days: 5:45am, weekends: around 7:30-8am
U- underwear: Preferably thongs.
V- vegetable favorite: Carrots, tomatoes (I know they're techncally a fruit, but whatever), asperagus, bell peppers.....aka lots.
W- ways you run late: spending too much time on Facebook.
X- xrays you've had: teeth, feets, and wrist.
Y- yummy food you make: desserts -- notably Snickerdoodles.
Z- zoo favorite: polar bears or the tubby penguins.

Trapped in a Fishbowl

At work, my desk is the first thing one sees when entering our office. I'm the receptionist/office administrator/personal assistant extrordinaire, which explains the location of my desk. Our office shares the floor with an engineering/architectural firm, with one of their corridors going right in front of my desk. Now, this wouldn't seem so bad, except that the front doors to our office are made 99.99% of clear glass. So I can see exactly who is walking by, who is going to the bathroom without washing their hands (trust me, I KNOW who you are), and what time people sneak out to go home for the day. Only problem is....they can see me too. No big deal, right?
Kinda.
Not to stereotype, but a good percentage of engineers/architects are men. Some of these men are young and kind of cute. Others are not. One man in particular bugs me a bit, just because my "CREEPER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" alarm goes off every time he walks by and looks at me in a way that makes my skin crawl a little. Now I'm sure that he's a perfectly nice gentleman, greatly respected by his peers and subordinates alike, but the too-short shorts, long semi-greasy hair and outright staring start to get on my nerves a bit.
On a happier note, some of the nice neighbor folks have poked their head in and introduced themselves. Do I remember their names? Of course not, which is strange because I'm generally pretty good with names. But they always smile and wave as they walk by.
And this cute guy has been starting to wave....hmmm....
Maybe life in a fishbowl isn't so bad.

Thursday Night Surprise

Guess what happened at my house last night? I know that when most people come home from work, they like to put up their feet, and have a glass of wine or beer or something. I’m not quite that conventional; my first move when I get home is to dump my junk on the futon, and head out to the garage to get a Healthy Choice Fudgsicle out of the freezer. So imagine my disappointment when I get home last night, head out to the garage, and discover that the freezer door didn’t get shut all the way, because so much ice has built up on the door jam that it prevents the door from shutting all the way. Which means that everything located in the front of the freezer was now a toasty 60 degrees. Including my fudgsicles. I love my abilities to prioritize – I first holler to my grandma that the freezer door wouldn’t shut, and then proceeded to move all the ice cream from the big freezer to the smaller freezer, so that something as wonderful as Tillamook ice cream wouldn’t go to waste. Then I used my new screwdrivers that I got for my birthday to chip away the ice from the door jam so that the door could close and give the food a chance to freeze up again. I don’t think that’s what my mom and dad had in mind when they gave me a fully-stocked toolbox for my birthday, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

These Times, They Are A'Changin'

Today's my birthday.

Yup, you better believe it.

At 2pm, I could officially say that I was 22 years old.

After the hectic busy-ness of my sister's wedding 2 days ago, no one really feels like doing much, other than sitting around, picking our toes, and maybe reading a stray People magazine. I have to work, my parents are getting ready to go home tomorrow, and my sister...well, I know that she has about 2304732089593287 thank-you notes to write. Besides, I had to work, so I didn't expect much. My aunt brought me some flowers and we're going out to dinner tonight, which is really how I wanted to spend my birthday. Well, that and catching up on some much-needed sleep.

But it made me realize how much has changed this year, compared to my birthday a year ago:

1) I'm now a college graduate. Which I suppose means that I'm "grown-up" now, but honestly, I still feel like a stupid, innocent teenager. A stupid, innocent teenager with bills to pay.
2) I'm living with my grandma, while last year, I lived with my other grandparents. What a summer that was. I'm very happy now -- it's almost like living on my own, except that the rent is much cheaper and there are always yummy leftovers in the fridge.
3) My friend Grace was in Philly for the summer.....and now Grace is in Philly, permanently. Huh.
4) Have I mentioned the bills? I have? Yeah, those aren't much fun.

Change is inevitable. Change means progress. Change happens whether we want it to or not. But sometimes, that can be a good thing.

I guess I can look at this as I'm now one year closer to being able to rent a car. Yippee!

Wedding Bliss

This is my sister and her new husband.


I do believe that I have the most beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, blushing-bride sister in the world.


And my brother-in-law ain't a bad-lookin' dude, either.


Love you both! Congrautlations!

Well, at least you haven't done a face-plant in a urinal!

Think you're having a bad day?

Want to complain about it to anyone who will listen?

Because that's how I usually handle bad days.

But isn't that what family and friends are for? To be there for you, in the good times, the bad times, and all the other ones in-between?

My friend Grace* is one of those people I turn to whenever I need to vent about something. Vent, emotionally vomit, squeal with joy -- you name it, Grace has been there with me all the way. We especially like to lament to each other about stupid things that we honestly don't have any control over, but still like to complain about, just to feel like we aren't alone in the world.

One day a few weeks ago, I was writing an e-mail expressing my current discomfort in how busy I was, or something or other. Doesn't really matter, I guess. Point is, I was complaining about something honestly not that bad, but still felt that my voice needed to be heard. The response I got back from Grace was one I don't think I'll ever forget: her mom is a substitute teacher out in Boston. The day before, she was helping one of her students on to the bus, when all of a sudden, apparently he needed to....use the facilities. Being an elementry school, you can't just let students wander off on their own, especially after school hours. So Grace's disgrunted Mom (who just wanted to go home like the rest of us would, I'm sure) helped this little boy back to the restroom. Somehow, in the 3 minutes it would take to use the facilities, Grace's mom hears a wailing noise in the bathroom, and rushes in to investigate. Because how much harm can honestly come to a child in an elementry-school bathroom? When she enters the bathroom, she finds the little boy on the floor, with blood covering his face. It seems that somehow, whether he tripped or just wasn't paying attention (maybe a shiny object?), he managed to hit his face on the urinal. No details as to where his face landed on the urinal (I shudder at the thought), but that shiny piece of porcelin nonetheless. Which teaches me a very valuable perspective on life:

No matter what happens, at least you didn't do a face-plant in a urinal!




*Name has been changed to protect the innocent. Or just because I didn't ask if she would mind if I used her real name. Better safe than sorry, I always say

My Purse, My Suitcase

I’m generally a clean, fairly organized person. I make my bed every day, my sink is generally void of dirty dishes, my DVDs are neatly stacked, and the coffee grounds are washed out of the coffee maker every morning. In a normal world, this would indicate that nearly every aspect of my life is clean, organized, and void of clutter/junk-free.

Until you looked at my purse.

Now, I, like most other women, hate carrying a large bag, because the bigger it is, the more you can fit in it, and then logically, the heavier it is. How on God’s green, magnificent Earth I manage to get some of the stuff in there I haven’t a clue, but somehow it always does. And the sad thing is, I actually use most of these items, on a weekly, if not daily, basis. I can’t even imagine the horror that my purse is going to be once I have kids and a husband someday.

Here are a few things that I usually have in my purse at any given moment:

-- My wallet, weighted down with coins and old Fred Meyer and Target receipts (not to be confused with the random change and Fred Meyer and Target receipts wandering around the inside of my purse)
-- Bobby pins, taken out of my hair from the day before, because frankly I didn’t like that style anymore.
-- A padlock, to be kept on my locker at the gym. It would never occur to me to leave it at the gym. That would just be too logical.
-- Earrings, worn the day, week, or month before that I have worn sometime in the recent past, that usually I spend about 10 minutes looking for the day I want to wear them, only to realize that I left them in a purse, gym bag, my car, etc.
-- A wide variety of Trident or Orbit gum wrappers, some with old gum inside them (like you don’t have that in your purse or random pocket, either?)
-- My camera. You never know when you’re going to come across the perfect sunset, the perfect pair of shoes you need some helpful input on, or a fender-bender in need of some concrete documentation.
-- Sunglasses. I’m forever squinting in the sunlight….or even when it’s not that bright outside.
-- iPod. Because nowadays, it’s just what you do.
-- Flash drive. It’s come in handy fairly often. Most recently to transfer my copy of Midnight Sun onto my computer from my old job.
-- Lip gloss. You name it, I got it. My current favorite is my old standby of Vanilla-Mint Chapstick, closely followed by Bath&BodyWorks’ Vanilla Soda Fountain lip shine. It’s sticky, but it works like a dream. You can bet it’ll be present at my sister’s wedding on Saturday.

Ten years (or more) down the road, I’m sure that I’ll hear the phrase, “Mom, your purse is HEAVY!!!” and be brought back to those young years when I said the same thing to my mom. Who, I’m still convinced, insisted on packing along bricks in her purse for whatever shopping trip we were on. Because you just never know when something like that will come in handy.

Random Thoughts

Right now, there are exactly 3 people in my office. I'm one of those three. The other two are on their phones, and my phone doesn't ring. There's no work for me to do. Which leads me to let my mind wander onto more pressing, important thoughts and ponderisms which I'm so generously going to share. Because honestly, I have nothing better to do:

1) T minus 5 days until my sister's wedding. And I still haven't written my MOH toast (see previous post -- no rhyme-pun intended). I just don't FEEL like writing it! Oh, I've thought about it for a while over the past few weeks or so, and I now have a vague outline as to what I want to say, but when it comes to actually putting it down on paper and then practicing it so that I don't mispronounce something or sound like an idiot? I don't waaaannnnnnnnna.

2) To go down to the cafeteria and get a granola bar, or not to get a granola bar -- that is the question.

3) I have a blister on the pinky toe of my right foot, due to marching 16 blocks and back to the library during my lunch break. For a 32-block treck in 25 minutes in 3-in. heels, that ain't bad.
And that blister kinda hurts. And I've looked at Target for those cute little discreet footie nylons that other people wear in their heeled shoes, but guess what? Due to my lovely genetics, they don't make them in my size. And supposedly their "One Size Fits All!" approach hasn't seen the likes of my feet, because they should know that a size 11.5 foot doesn't exactly fall in the same category as the size 6 foot.

4) I'm having a very important internal debate (almost as important as the granola bar question, which I still haven't decided on): where do I take K to get her nails done? I don't want to be a cheapskate, but jeez, I'm not made of money, either! But then it comes down to the argument of "You should be willing to do anything for your sister!" and the argument of "You aren't made of money!!!" Sheesh. Plus, did you know that if you Google "Portland nail salons," it'll spit about 300 results at you? Try narrowing that down.

5) I keep thinking of things I'd rather be doing if I weren't here at work: like trying out one of the bazillion recipes that I've found. Of course, that's assuming that I have the money to buy all the necessary items, have the time to cook them, and have the extra room on my hips to allow for the fat and calories that would undoubtably take up residence after I ate said recipes.

6) I would really like to take a photography class. I don't have the world's best $1,000 camera, but the one I have isn't half bad, and I'd really like to take pictures like The Pioneer Woman (www.thepioneerwoman.com). Of course, I'd need the $1,000 camera, a few cattle and a hunky cowboy or two to complete the picture. But let's start small, shall we?

7) I can't wait until we get wedding pictures back so that I can see how beautiful my sister is going to look. But then I guess we'd better have the wedding first, right?


I'm breaking down -- going to get that granola bar.