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.