day 7

A photo of someone you love:

I love lots o' people. My family, first and foremost, and my friends, of course, so it's almost impossible to pick just one. So let's include the really important ones first:

and these fools fo sho....

day 6

A photo that makes you laugh:

During my first summer in southern Oregon, I was lucky enough to get hired at the local movie theater. Lets just say that even though we were required to "work", that rarely happened. More often than not, we'd goof off for hours on end, as exemplified in this photo. The Good Old Days for sure.

day 5

Day 5: A photo of you

This pic is about 5 years old (seriously!?!? time flies), but I still love it. Mol was my sophomore year roommate, and probably the best one I ever had. This was from the day where we decided we needed a break from studying for finals, so a group of us went to the park near campus to play on the playground equipment like little kids. Our friend Mae took this pic while on the merry-go-ride, where I remember I was starting to get so dizzy I thought I was going to get sick. Ah the days of being footloose and fancy free....except for those pesky classes.

day 4

A Photo of the last place you went on holiday:

Just a month ago, I surprised Grace (far left) for her birthday by flying back to Philly for 4 days. We spent 2 days in Philly, and then drove to DC to spend another few days exploring the Capitol. I love these people - I practically lived with them my last year in college, and whenever we get back together, it seems like no time has passed at all. They're some of the best, funniest, kindest people I know.
(not sure if you can tell in the photo, but I was silently suffering from one of the world's worst head colds that i caught, of course, on the plane ride OVER and decided to manifest its wrath on the day before i left. figures)

day 3

Day 3: a photo that makes you happy

This was taken on my sister K's wedding day a year and a half ago. The photographer had told her to make a "sexy" face, and K's attempt made me crack up. I was so touched that she asked me to be her MOH, and I love how close we are. It was truly the perfect day.

day 2

Day 2: A photo of yourself from a year ago.

well, this was taken a little less than a year ago, but who cares. Last year I decided that making smart decisions was overrated, and hopped on a plane to Philadelphia and meet my college friends/roommates to head up to New York City for New Years Eve in Times Square. The day after, we explored as much of the city as our caffeine levels and sleep-deprived bodies would let us, and one of our last stops was Rockefeller Center. I came home a few days later so tired I was almost sick, but it was totally worth it. Bragging rights for LIFE.

30-day photo challenge: day 1

Another attempt to try and get back into the blogging mode. And yes, I stole this from another blog, as I am apparently apt to do, but I have nothing else to write about, except for the fact that I'm currently watching the Civil War (GO BEAVS!!!) and am hoping for a miracle.

Anyway.


Day 1: Your Facebook Photo


Ever since Nuggette was born, my mom has been all about the family photos. So on the rare occasions when we're all together, we get dressed up [the baby having about 4 times the amount of outfit changes that we do] and take a million photos. Thank goodness for digital. This picture was taken last weekend after we celebrated Thanksgiving. Is that baby not the cutest thing you've ever seen???

Hopefully a Jump Start

You know, sometimes I wish that Gooogle/Blogger weren't so on top of things, and that way I wouldn't feel so guilty by the wonderful little stat tool that has told me I haven't posted anything since August 10. Almost 4 months ago. Oops. In my defense, though, life has been pretty busy (I know, I know, that's what everyone says), work (where I do a lot of writing/editing anyway) has been busy, too, and besides, it seems like I have nothing of interest to post about. I've been trying to think of SOMETHING that would help me out of this rut known as writers block (i.e. laziness), and I think I found it when I was reading through one of my favorite blogs, the Busy Dad Blog and found a survey of sorts. Since something like this involves no creativity on my part to come up with a story, it seemed like the jump-start I need to get back into the blogging practice. So here goes:

Eight Things I am Passionate About

1. My faith - I know that there's no way on God's green earth that I'd be where I am today if it weren't for my faith. God has a plan for me. I just have to have the patience and faith to find out what it is each and every day.
2. My family - blood is always thicker than water.
3. My friends - dude, my friends rock. Nuff said.
4. My niece - my goodness, that little girl is going to be the death of me. At only 5 months old, she has already wormed her way into my heart in a way that I never even imagined, and it's going to be an interesting struggle with will power on the first day or occasion where I have to tell her "No." Heaven help us on THAT day. I mean, seriously, will you just look at this face?


5. Photography - in the past few years, I've somehow developed a real interest in photography. So I bought a fancy new camera, and have become known as a bit of a camera fanatic whenever it comes to group gatherings. "Wait! Don't move! Dang it, she blinked. Ok, one more! Fine, everyone can move now. Carry on." The best part is that now my sister is a mom, she bought an even nicer camera, which I now play with at any given opportunity. All for the sake of learning and avoiding "professional" photo places at the mall.
6. Cooking/Baking - as all my family, friends, and coworkers know, my main passion is for baking. Cookies, pies, scones, cakes, I'll try and tackle any recipe. Only problem is that if I keep that kind of stuff in my house, inevitably it gets eaten by yours truly. The only solution is to load it off onto my surrouding friends and coworkers. Hey, sharing is caring!
7. Reading - riding the bus nearly every day has opened up a whole world of time for leisure reading. Something I hadn't experienced in the 3.5 years I was in college. Now, I get to read whatever I want to read, and don't give a damn if it's something stupid, chick lit, or completely pointless.
8. Traveling - Once you get bitten by the travel bug, it's hard to forget about it. Last year's trip to NYC for New Years and this year's trip to Philly/DC for Grace's birthday are 2 things off the Bucket List, but now I'm dying to go to London for the Opening Ceremony of the 2012 Summer Olympics. [Cheap] tickets start at like $35....

Eight Things I Want To Do Before I Die

1. Karaoke. I've always wanted to, but never been able to work up the guts to do it.
2. Be a Mom. Right now, I'm having a blast with baby-sitting the Nuggette whenever I want, but let's just say that it also serves a dual purpose as amazing birth control. I want to have kids, someday, when I have a husband to help out and a career that makes me more financially stable.
3. Two words: SPA. DAY.
4. Learn another language - for real this time. I took Spanish classes for 3 years in high school, almost 3 years in college, and studied abroad in Spain for 5 weeks. After all that, I was fairly decent at it. By no means was I fluent, but I could understand most of what was being said to me, and could respond in some way. Now I just catch bits and pieces, and give a blank stare in response. It'd be awesome to be fluent.
5. Own a really fun, impractical car. I just bought a new Ford Escape (the first car I've ever purchased!) that is a sweet ride, but at times it just screams "MOMMOBILE" as I bought it in mind of the car seats, toys, sleeping bags, soccer balls, cracker crumbs, dog muzzle smears, and backpacks that would (hopefully) fill the backseat at some point. My dream car is something like a Jeep Wrangler. Black. Softtop. Beautiful.
6. Get published. I like to write, and at times come up with something that I like to think isn't half bad, but don't think at this point I could ever write AND complete something good enough to get published professionally.
7. Learn how to garden, and actually enjoy it. Growing up, we lived on a two acres of landscaped yard, in the middle of the Central Washington desert. Needless to say, keeping everything green, weed-free, and trimmed gave me a deep dislike for yardwork and gardening. I'd love to be that little old lady someday with all the would-be prize-winning roses in her yard. Hey, it beats being the little old crazy cat lady by far.
8. Still figuring this one out.

Eight Things I Say Often

1. "Hello, [name of workplace], how may I help you?"
2. Happy Hour? Yes, please.
3. Why is it that I have no food?!
4. Do I really want to go to the gym today?
5. Aw, crap!
6. Where’s the coffee?!
7. Again!? Fine, I'll call IS...hello, Scotty?
8. Oops.

Eight Books I’ve Recently Read

1. Eat Pray Love: Saw the movie first, am now reading the book. It's pretty good so far.
2. Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea. Heard it was good, and thought I'd see for myself. Being a comedian, I thought her writing would be funnier, but maybe our senses of humor just aren't the same.
3. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Duh.
4. Rekindled: a historial ficion Christian book about the Colorado Territory by Tamera Alexander. She writes some great stuff.
5. The Kitchen Boy by Robert Alexander: Scary. I love Romanov-era Russian history, and this fictional tale of the Romanov's final days in Ekaterinberg left me on the edge of my [bus] seat.
6. Hand Hand Fingers Thumb: One of Nuggette's favorite books. I'm sure it has nothing to do with Generic tapping out drumb beats on K's stomach during her prenancy.
7. Digital Fortress: Not Dan Brown's best, in my opinion, but still a thriller.
8. The Bible: Save the best for last.
   

Eight Songs That I Could Listen To Over And Over

1. Love Story - Taylor Swift
2. Don't Stop Believin' - Journey
3. Haven't Met You Yet - Michael Buble
4. Friends in Low Places - Garth Brooks
5. Love Like Crazy - Lee Brice
6. Saturday in the Park - Chicago
7. My Little Girl - Tim McGraw

Eight Things That Attract Me To My Best Friends

1. They crack me up
2. They’re good hearted
3. They “get” me
4. They tell me like it is
5. They’ll pressure me when I need to be pushed, but leave me alone when I need some space.
6. They're up for anything
7. They truly care
8. There's no such thing as an unfinished bottle of wine when we get together.

Eight Things I Have Learned This Past Year

1. Make sure you have a key to BOTH door locks before locking up and leaving the house.
2. Everything happens for a reason.
3. How to ride the PDX Bus system.
4. When making a caramel-pumpkin-gingersnap cheesecake, remember the line the bottom of the springform pan to avoid scraping burnt caramel off the bottom of the hot oven.
5. Not everything you buy at the Dollar Store is as good as the name brand stuff.
6. Sometimes it pays to take that extra leap of faith.
7. When the sign says 30 mph, they mean it.
8. Health Insurance is a necessary evil.

My Weaknesses

Puppies.
Nuggette.
Leftover chocolate.
Facebook.
The Williams-Sonoma Catalogue.

and Amazon.com.

Don't get me wrong, places like Target and White HouseBlack Market make my skirt fly up, too. But you can buy anything on Amazon! Christmas present for Dad [Wine areator]? Amazon.com. Work's external hard drives for the office? Amazon.com. My new camera? Amazon.com.

All of this with the option of free shipping on orders more than $25? you betcha that's Amazon.com.

This sounds like a really bad paid advertisement (I don't make a dime, unfortuantely). But honestly, lately I've been on a kick making my own convenience foods at home. Homemade peanut butter, cornmeal parmesan crackers, butter, and fresh mozarella cheese, that kind of thing. Most of the ingredients I can find in the bulk foods section at WinCo, but rennet and citric acid for making cheese aren't located on Aisle 5. But a quick check on Amazon let me purchase them for less than $5!

I can get lost on that site for hours, unfortunately. Whether I'm looking for a baptism gift for my niece or looking at reviews, price comparisons, or even gift ideas, it's my drug of choice.

Needless to say, my credit card is well aquainted with their billing department. All for the sake of stimulating the economy, right?

Judging

Sup?

You did what?

With who?For how many cookies??!?!?!?

Tough Toons

Tough, but pretty darn accurate:

brother, can you spare a dime?

I'm lookin' for some change.

Which is odd, because normally I'm the person who sticks with tradition. If the world ran things according to my comfort zone, we would still be using the old 5, 10, and 20-dollar bills, the nation never would have switched to this digital TV thing (thus rendering my favorite old bunny ear antena useless), and Facebook would have stayed with it's original design and layout.

(We'd probably still be under the rule of England, too, but let's look at the smaller picture.)

In short, being stubborn and a fan of routine rarely allows me to leave my comfort zone.

I can't believe I've been out of college for almost 2 years now. That makes me something that the rest of the world considers an adult, but I'm still stumbling around wondering how I went from a carefree college student worrying about finals and which dance club we would frequent that weekend, to this person whose conversations with friends now include terms like "mortgage," "bills," and "interest rates." -shudder-

Basically, I'm now this boring adult who bases decisions what is considered the responsible action, rather than doing things for myself, at the spur of the moment, or out of pure stupidity or ignorance or simple carefree bliss.

But isn't that what being in your 20s is about? Doing things because you can blame them on the decade of your life where you're allowed to blame it on your age, and people will simply nod their heads, understand, and then tell a story about their own decade of stupidity? I have at least 7 more years before I really need to think about getting a car that will accomodate a dog, carseat, and at least 4 other soccer team children, rather than getting the Jeep I'd truly love and enjoy. I have at least 5 more years before I need to consider which kind of washer/dryer combo would work best at each price point. And I have at least 2 more months to go out and enjoy my sunshine-filled weekends before summer is officially over and I go back to the doom and gloom of a Portland winter.

The pure pressure of it all can be so daunting at times! Knowing what I should be doing as a responsible adult, and then knowing what I truly want to do, simply because I can. I'm not tied down in any way except for my job and a few family obligations, so isn't now the time to take the time to just go somewhere? Take a trip, take chances, and enjoy the simple thrill of it all?

I'm trying to step outside my confining bonds and think about what else I can do in and with my life before it's too late. I'm thinking either dying my hair blonde or researching an internship position in London. I've always wondered how I'd look with blonde hair, and I've been dreaming about living in London since I was 6 (I think it stems from wanting to live in a land where princesses actually exist!). The little voice in the back of my head is telling me to save my hair folicles and keep my hair at its dark brown mahogany color, but I was blonde as a kid, so why not again now? Another little voice is telling me to save my money for a house I'd like to buy someday, invest the money into my retirement, or just put it in a rainy day fund.

But living in Portland, I've learned that sometimes, you have to accept the fact that today might be your rainy day.

sometimes it takes a million tries to get the million-dollar shot

Which I proved last week when playing with my niece and my new camera.

Case in point:

Awww, I love this picture. Just chillin'. And quite the fashionista.

Nugget is officially Nugg-ETTE!

It is my pleasure to introduce to you my beautiful brand-spankin'-new niece:

Maria "Mia" Rose Lundeen

Born July 3, 2010, 7:54 pm

8 lbs., 1.7 oz.

20 inches long

She has her mom's nose, dad's shaped head, MY dad's chin, and 3 aunts who are planning to spoil her rotton.

Tis the Season for Chicken Pox

Fortunately, that ship sailed through my life about 20 years ago.

And after re-reading that, I feel incredibly old, as I now have the legit ability to reminice about events that happened almost a quarter-century ago.

Questioning my own mortality: just the way I wanted to start my Tuesday morning.

My manager came in this morning, and gave the lovely news that her adorable 2 year old daughter was exposed to the chicken pox this weekend (by a 4 year old granola child, who has chest-length blonde hair and wears dresses...and is a boy. Um, okay.) Now my manager is wondering if she's going to have a spotty, itchy, miserable daughter in about a week. As an individual who has suffered through the chicken pox not once, but twice in my lifetime, I can totally feel her pain.

And don't tell me that "you can't get the chicken pox twice!" Let me guarantee you, IT CAN BE DONE.

(My sister, on the other hand, has made it through 26 years of life without getting it even once, after being exposed multiple times. Including the Christmas my cousin had it and my mom did her darndest to expose K - she still didn't get it. Lucky bugger.)

The thing I remember most about having the chicken pox, besides getting yelled at for scratching, are the oatmeal baths. I didn't really understand their significance at the time, but a sock full of mushy oatmeal? BEST. BATHTIME. TOY. EVER. Oh sure, it helped with the itching and all, but frankly, getting to spend an hour at a time in the tub for the sake of my health? It was a dream come true! I'm sure that the experiences were much less fun for my parents, but at least they weren't the ones "suffering."

While I now have a greatly reduced risk of getting the chicken pox as an adult, I just found out that there is a correlation between having chicken pox as a young child, and the odds of getting shingles as an adult. Great - not only did I suffer twice as a kid, but I get higher odds of getting an even more painful virus as an adult?

Thanks, Universe.

Doodles

...because he taught me to make pancakes as a kid, and that undercooked pancakes drenched in maple syrup rightfully belong on any breakfast plate,

...because he had the patience to teach me how to drive,

...because he would come to watch my volleyball games and spend endless hours every weekend at my volleyball tournaments, cheering me on,

...because he gets annoyed if my mom hangs up the phone after talking to me and he didn't get a chance to talk, too,

...because every time I would mow the lawn, he would go out and check my work. And if I didn't do it right, he'd drag me out to show me the spots I missed and make me do it again. Thereby teaching me work ethic and accountability,

...because he used to buy me donuts when I'd go to work with him on Saturdays,

...because he puts up with 3 females ganging up on him and teasing him mercilessly,

...because he is the calm voice of reason I can turn to in any situation,

...because he lets me borrow his Jeep whenever I go home to visit,

...because he is the best bar-b-que-r in the world, and cooks salmon that will melt in your mouth,

...and because he knows he can bribe me into coming home with promises of said bbq,

...because his hugs make me feel safe,

...because he loves my mom and treats all of us like his princesses,

...because he works so hard to provide the best he can for his family,

...because we share a "secret handshake" that I'll probably make him perform after he walks me down the aisle [someday],

...because he paid for my college education, years of private school tuition, piano lessons, doctor bills, braces, vacations, and sports fees,

...because he is the best man I know,

...he is the best Dad in the world, and I can't imagine a better father.

Happy Father's Day, Dad! I love you (more!)

doom and gloom in the month of june

-sigh-

Life isn't fair sometimes.

It's June. In my mind, I'm picturing end-of-the-school-year picnics. Squirt guns. Shorts. Air conditioning and/or rotating fans. Lemonade. Green grass. Bike rides.

You get the picture.

But noooooooo. That's not the view from where I'm sitting. I wore my NorthFace jacket to work today, for cryin' out loud. When I see people on the street walking by the summer collection clothing displays at the mall, I see them gaze longingly at the shorts and tank tops, look a the grey, raincloud-filled skies, scoff, and then trudge along to the nearest heated location in their rainboots.

I'm trying to be optimistic, here. I know that most of the state is worried about an impending drought for the summer, so each extra inch of rain helps delay it another day. We're saving money on water since we're not water the lawn and our flower beds. But when you've just lived through the wettest month of May in the past 50-60 years, you know that you have some justification for hating the weather.

'Hate' is a strong word, but totally justified. I'M READY FOR SUMMER, DANG IT!

Car Maintenance? What's that?

This awesomely hilarious post basically sums up my philosophy on car maintenance (...cough, cough...or lack thereof). Only instead of '911', I use 1-800-CALL-DAD, or my expired AAA membership. And if you replace the parking tickets with Glee soundtrack CD cases and other random crap, you should have a pretty accurate view of my glove box.

A typical conversation with my dad:

Dad: "Kourtney, when was the last time you cleaned the inside of your windows?"
Me: "Um, probably the last time you did them."
Dad: "And the last time you waxed your car? You need to make sure it gets waxed at least once a year to protect the paint."
Me: "DAAAAAAAD, you just did it in July! So I'm planning on waiting until it stops raining/hailing/snowing, and then I'll TOTALLY get to it. Probably around July."
Dad: "Isn't that the next time you're coming home to visit?"
Me: "Well, whadya know, isn't that a coincidence!"
Dad: "And have you checked your oil lately? With all that driving, it's bound to be a little low."
Me: -blank stare-
Dad: "We went over this!! Remember, you're supposed to check your oil every few weeks? Otherwise if the oil level gets too low, then the engine could fail. And you don't want to have to buy a whole new car, do you?"
Me: "Of course not! And I just got my oil checked a few weeks ago!"
Dad: -sigh, checks dipstick thingie- "Kourtney, what's your definition of 'a few'?"
Me: "Either the last time you did or the last time I went to Jiffy Lube....-reading sticker- about 4,800 miles ago! I'm totally FINE!"
Dad: -facepalm-

Retail therapy FAIL

Well, today during my lunch break, I had all kinds of plans to go on a walk, stop by the library to catch up on my smarts, and maybe even stop by the Goodwill. [Side note: the Goodwill on SW 10th is AH-MAAAAZING. I'm talkin' designer duds here, folks] But the ever-crazy Oregon weather put a damper (hardy har-har) in my plans, and decided a nice springtime storm system would better suit my day. Instead, I'm going to write a post about a whole lotta NOTHING.

Bear with me, here.

Well, I should probably mention that I have a major bone to pick with whoever designs department store dressing rooms. Honestly, flourescent lighting really does a woman NO favors while trying on clothes, and even worse, bathing suits. It has been proven time and time again that this harsh lighting makes us look worse than we think we do, and therefore, throw a fuming fit in the dressing room, force us to snatch up the offending items and throw them haphazardly onto their hangers, all the while muttering obscenities about the clothing manufacturers and the current state of your thighs, march out of the dressing room and barely acknowledging the chipper dressing-room attendant (who, without fail, ALWAYS cheerfully asks, "So did anything work out for you today?"), throw the offending items on the counter, and storm out of the store.

I mean, doesn't it make more sense to have more flattering light in the dressing rooms? Think about it - if you're in a store where you try on something that you probably don't need in the first place, it looks AMAZING on you, you're going to buy it, right? And then when you get home and face reality, try on the item again only to see how truly awful it looks on you, what are the odds that most people will take the time to go back to the store and return it? I know so many people who have a whole pile of clothes meant for returning, and then they sit there, obviously unreturned, until it's too late and they're stuck with their bad purchase.

Needless to say, I haven't had much luck with clothes shopping lately. Last weekend, I went to the Woodburn Outlet Mall (aka Nirvana), and came out with nothing. Zilch. Nada. Well, that's not technically true. As I got back in my car after failed trips inside Ann Taylor, White House Black Market, Banana Republic, Cole Haan, Gap, AND the Kitchen Outlet, I totally could have seen myself buying a commemorative shirt that said, "I went to the Woodburn Outlet Mall, and all I got was the desire to lose 10 lbs." Yesterday, I wasn't in the best of moods, so I made a collosial mistake: I went to The Rack and had the same feeling of failure and misery. Retail therapy FAIL.

Which really leaves me no choice but to head to the land of no dressing rooms and free return shipping. Oh internet shopping, I have a feeling that we're going to become GREAT friends.

sharing is caring!

When you mix 3/4 c. of this...

...with 1/4 c. (melted) of this...

...and add in 1 jigger of this...

...and blend it for a full minute with this....

...happiness and a larger pants size will ensue. Trust me - I speak from experience.

p.s. it goes quite well with pancakes, apple pie, vanilla ice cream, fruit, or with a spoon.

just one reason why i love the PNW

Sure, they're technically volcanos that could destruct the entire region with one little hiccup (see: Mount St. Helens), but this kind of beauty isn't seen anywhere else in the lower 48 states.

Mt. Adams and Mt. St. Helens.

Mt. Rainier and Mt. Adams

Update: I guess you could argue that this little thing called the Rocky Mountains has the same kind of beauty, but I believe that's one of those things where you can lose sight of the forest through all the trees - right?

so close! yet so far...

Well, while going to the book signing to meet The Pioneer Woman last night was fun, sadly, I didn't get a [good] picture with her. Apparently, only the people who got there insanely early knew that you had to get tickets in order to get in line to get your cookbook signed. Considering I took two stupid wrong turns on the way there and got there only 5 minutes early, I was not one of these lucky selected few. But I did get lucky in that I got a pretty good viewing spot, considering how many people were there.

Insaaaaaaaane.

After a short and very entertaining Q&A session where we were graced with a delightful Ethel Mermen impression, people started getting in line to get their cookbooks signed and a picture with Ree.

Side Note: Most entertaining question of the evening: "How are you going to teach your daughters the difference between a GOOD hiney-tingle and a BAD hiney-tingle...especially when it comes to men?" You could tell Ree was thinking, "How the #$%& should I know???" AWESOME.

She's so pretty, and I'm jealous of her accessorizing ability!

Alas, I didn't get my cookbook signed, but the pictures I got was good enough. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go figure out how many miles I need to run after I eat her recipe for Mocha Silk Pie that I want to make this weekend.

a good day about to get better

Oh. My. Gosh.

I am literally bouncing in my work chair, checking the clock about every 52 seconds to see if it is yet time to go get ready.

4:39. Damn. Not yet.

Because once that clock reaches 4:55 (16 more minutes!) I get to change and make myself look somewhat/hopefully presentable to drive out to Beaverton, go wait in line at Powell's, and get my cookbook signed. The cookbook that I have gone through more times than I can count, salivating over the recipes that I would love to make, but am too scared to due to the fact that if I did, I would eat every single thing and then my clothes wouldn't fit anymore.

4:40.

I GET TO MEET THE PIONEER WOMAN!!!!!!!!!

Does that make me sound stalker-ish? I mean, I'm no stalker (4:41), but I've only been reading this blog and making these recipes for the past 2 and a half years. I was so disappointed when her tour last summer didn't go any farther west than Texas, thinking that I would never get to meet her. But now her mini cookbook tour is in the NW! Happiness, pure happiness.

4:42...

Yes, I will be posting pictures tomorrow. I'm so excited! Not only am I goig to the book signing tonight, but my boss got back from overseas today, so I actually had a busy day which made the day go by a bit faster. You know, except for the minutes right now that are dragging by. (4:43) AND my mom is in town, AND I got to feel Nugget kick for the first time yesterday (!!!!!), AND it was sunny this weekend.

Life is good!
(4:44)

A picture is worth a thousand words

the PERFECT excuse! uhh, i mean, REASON

Now that I'm in my 20s, I feel that I have earned the right to begin sentences with, "Well, when *I* was a kid..." For example, "When *I* was a kid, we didn't have these cool toys!" I mean, now little girls aren't playing with the wonderful miracle Easy-Bake oven (how DO they get a cupcake to bake in 5 minutes by the heat of a 100-watt lightbulb??), but are rolling out fondant and decorating multi-layer-cupcake-sized cakes. With real tools! Endorsed by Duff aka the Ace of Cakes! Do you know how much fun I would have had with that? Heck, even now I'm considering buying it just so I can have that same joy that technology hadn't yet evolved to when I was in the 5-13 yr. age group. While I had the mini-kitchen whose cabinet doors actually -gasp!- opened and closed and the burners on the stove were represented by red coil stickers, nowadays the lucky kiddies get to use a mini-kitchen whose refrigerator has an actual fake-ice-cube dispenser and the stovetop actually lights up when the burners are "hot".

Of course I'm not bitter, why do you ask?

Anyway. One of the other things that I have always wanted to do but could never quite justify spending the money on was the magical Build-A-Bear workshop. Where little kids can go in and biuld their dream stuffed animal, complete with matching outfit, shoes, hair accessories, and personalized heart that is placed inside the animal before being stuffed. All for the low, low reasonable price of ~$30. I mean, as a frugal adult, $30 seems totally unreasonable for a stupid little stuffed animal that will just be played with for 15 minutes before being cast aside forever as being too boring, but TOTALLY seems like fun to make. But now that I'm an "adult" and in my 20s, there is really no reason for me to go in and spend money on a stuffed animal that I don't even need.

BUT. Now I have Nugget to think about! I mean, a stuffed animal is a huge comfort item to a small child. And it is My Duty as an aunt-to-be to make sure that this little Nugget of joy is properly cared for, and has a truly adequate amount of love surrounding it at all times.

This is great! Now I totally have a justifiable reason instead of an unjustified want to go into this store! Add it to the new list of previously unneeded trips to the Disney store, FAO Schwartz, Toys 'R' Us, and the Lego store. BOO-YAH.

maybe I have an undiagnosed phobia or something

I fear clutter.

While I love the whole "homey, lived in" feel of homes with coffee tables topped with an array of magazines, the morning paper piled by the recliner, or the 324,780 pens in the junk drawer, it just doesn't work in mine.

Don't get me wrong - I'm no clean freak. And I inevitably have that drawer (or two. or five) that I can never keep clean and organized. But even though I can't keep it clean, it still bugs the crap out of me that it's there....taunting me and just BEGGING to be annihilated.

This weekend, I started the charge. General MacArthur would be proud.

Using my dad's infamous motto of "When in doubt, throw it out," I started waging a war against my room, cabinets, bathroom, and hopefully the rest of my house. I have a dedicated corner of my room where a pile for Goodwill is steadily growing, and I'm sure the garbage man loves the extra contributions I'm making to his job as well. Not only am I cleaning out things that haven't seen the light of day since our move back to Oregon 5 years ago, but I'm also (-gasp!-) noticing things around my house that really do require a trip to Lowes or Home Depot. The air vent in the hallway that's been haning crooked since July (it's not MY fault that the drywall decided to disintigrate), the cabinet door that is coming loose off of its screws, the formica on the counter that is starting to peel back (I'm sure the scotch tape holding it on won't last for long), and I'm sure that the furnace filters really do need to be cleaned. Do I know how to fix half of these things? Heck no. But that's why I'm so lucky to have male family members who are more than willing to teach me how to use the toolbox I got for my birthday last year.

You never know - I might find out that some of those tools actually have a purpose besides chipping ice out of my freezer =].

Anyways. There's just something about this time of year that makes me want to get rid of everything I don't need. Maybe it comes from the habit of getting ready to move every spring (which has been our tradition for the past 5 yeras), or maybe it's the fact that I'm actually growing up and having to do this stuff for myself. Either way, I'm sure that my parents are reading this and having minor heart-attacks, since they probably thought that they would never live to see the day where I'm trying to clean out stuff and work on house projects.

When did I grow up? And how do I make it stop???

All I know is that it feels sooooo good to have everything organized. Even if it is just the shoes in my closet, and only until I throw today's shoewear of choice back into my closet tonight.

Gampa? Pops? G-Daddy? Goodness.

Hello, my dear blog. How I’ve missed you. Ever since my place of employment decided to install new internet firewalls blocking most of my favorite blog sites, it has been forcing our relationship to crumble. Please forgive me and be patient with my tardiness in returning.

And besides, nothing THAT interesting has been going on. I get up, I go to the gym, I go to work, come home, and hit up the occasional happy hour or two.

But I did go home last weekend to visit my parents, and my sister and brother-in-law happened to be visiting, too. We had a great time, especially laughing over the fact that about every 20 minutes, we got to hear, “DAMMIT, I have to go to the bathroom AGAIN.” Nugget seems to be getting bigger by the day, and therefore having more of an impact on her bladder than K would like.

Ever since we found out that she’s pregnant, my mom has been ecstatic over the fact that she’s going to be a Grandma, and I think the entire town of Mayberry knows that she’s getting a grandchild in July. My dad, on the other hand, has a bit more control over his excitement. Don’t get me wrong, he’s happy for my sister and excited about Nugget, but the fact that he’s going to be a Grandpa….it makes him sound….old. Never mind the fact that the man has had a head of white hair since he was 20 and will be eligible for the Early Bird Special at Denny’s in a short 3 years, but he’s having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that his daughter is going to have a kid. A kid who will call him Grandpa and be a constant (joyful, I’m sure) reminder of his own age.

This being said, over the weekend I was deemed the lovely task of going to Mr. Google and finding alternatives to the name Grandpa. Here is a small sample of the names I found:

Gramps

G-Daddy

Boppy

Banpa

Papps

Grampster

PeePaw

Grand-Dude

Guppa

You get the idea. My sister refuses to bring up her child to call our dad “Uncle,” and he’s not too fond of “Grandpa”…what’s a family to do?

After some careful thought, my mom came up with the compromise/solution: My dad will be known as “PapaKay,” like all one word (it makes sense since all of our names start with the letter ‘K’)

Sounds young enough, dontcha think?

Don't Worry - I've Got Time!

So much of our lives are lived this way.

When I was younger, my parents would go to work during the summer and leave my sister and I home alone, with a list of chores, workbook pages, and ideas for other activities to do throughout the day. The rule was, no matter what, the chores and workbook pages had to be done before we could get on the computer, watch TV, or go jump on the trampoline. I would usually start out my morning thinking, "Oh, I don't need to do those right now - I've got time!" And then I'd goof off most of the day, only to be racing to get my list done by the time my parents got home. Now that I'm older and (hopefully) wiser, I've learned that it makes much more sense to spread things out, or get them done sooner rather than later before you run out of time in the end.

Why don't we use this philosophy more in our everyday lives?

In my last post, I asked for prayers for my friend Molly, a volunteer at an orphanage down in Haiti. We learned last week that she didn't survive the earthquake, and volunteers had found her body among the rubble that had previously been an orphanage. The concept that life can be taken from us so quickly comes as a sharp blow, but does tend to put our own lives into perspective. While I complain about things like bills, laundry, and those 5 pesky pounds I can never manage to lose, the people in Haiti are worried about basic needs like water, food, and shelter, not to mention finding and/or burying their loved ones.

Makes my own life and problems seem a bit (and by a bit, I mean a whole heck of a lot) insignificant. I'm so blessed to have a wonderful family, friends, a job, a roof over my head, my education, and my health. Comparing the two, I definitely got the better end of the deal.
It seems that the human race as a whole has the attitude that we are immortal, and the concept of death is very real, but only in the lives of others. That being said, we tend to live our lives as procrastinators to the extreme, never thinking that the precious gift of life can be taken in a split second.

So we create our "Bucket List," and we promise ourselves that we'll start tomorrow - but before you know it, 40 years of 'tomorrows' have come and gone, and we still haven't lived. While Molly's death is a tragedy in that she was doing such good work, and the work has been interrupted, it can inspire us to not only live our lives to the fullest, but to make our own lives more meaningful by going out and helping those in need.

Basically I'm rambling about nothing more than the fact that I feel we all have so much to live for, and yet rarely do. I'll miss Molly, and feel so sad that she died, but take comfort in the fact that we didn't 'lose' her, because we know that she can be found in Heaven.

the universe is trying to tell me something - life's too short

When I woke up this morning at 4am for my usual jaunt to the gym, I didn't expect to hear birdsong, have my coffee ready-made, and for my hair to curl just right like something in a Disney princess movie. But I certainly didn't expect to be handed a subtle-like-a-freight-train hint from the Universe, either. It seemed to say, "Life ain't fair, and life is too short - make today count."

My friend Molly is currently serving as a Catholic missionary at an orphanage in Haiti. With yesterday's 7.0 magnitude earthquake, her family still doesn't know if she's okay or not. One of our other friends from UP was visiting her at the orphanage this week, and has thankfully made it back to the US Embassy with a broken arm, but is otherwise (according to her Facebook page) fine. Apparently, she was on the top floor of the building, and Molly was on the fifth floor when the earthquake struck and the building collapsed. If you're reading this, please say a quick prayer for Molly and her family, that she is found safe and that her family has the strength to endure whatever comes their way, and for our other UP friend, that she gets home quickly and safely, and has a quick recovery.

To add insult to injury, this morning I get an e-mail from my dad (we work for the same company), saying that my ex-boss died last night. Just out of the blue, -wham!- he keels over from a heart attack. Granted, he didn't live the healthiest lifestyle, but still. You never expect the heart attacks, the earthquakes, or the strike of the lightening bolt. We all go about our daily lives with a feeling of immortality, until God comes along and reminds us how precious life is, and how we need to thank Him every day for receiving the gift of life.

Stop and smell the roses. Tell someone you love them. Smile to a stranger on the street, and go ahead and eat that chocoalte. Life is too short to sweat the small stuff, so make each second count. And please keep praying for the people of Haiti.

New York, New York

I know that all my faithful, devoted readers (read: all 7 of you, who I truly do appreciate) have been DYING to hear about my trip to New York last week.

Well. I survived.

I survived on about 4-5 hours of sleep per night. I survived on minimal caffeine. I survived 10 hours in Times Square with about a million other people (and yes, that did mean I also survived not using the bathroom for 10 hours - it can be done!). I survived a night sharing a bed with 3 other girls. I survived walking from the Upper West Side of Central Park all the way down to Times Square and beyond, after a night of standing for 10 hours.

Basically, my friends and I rock.

After the aforementioned freak Portland snowstorm, it took me a full two hours to get home on the bus. Which of course caused a dangerous spike in my blood pressure, as I was imagining all kinds of horrible scenarios where I didn't get home in time, forgot to pack something, got in a car crash on my way to the airport, and, worst of all, miss my flight. I hadn't seen my best friends in over 6 months, so the idea of looking forward to something for 4 months to only have it yanked out from under my feet due to snow was unacceptable. Fortunately, all the really bad traffic was heading south, and I was heading north - with snowtires and snow-driving experience to boot. I made it to my sister's house with enough time to down some yummy Yakisoba noodles that Generic made, have a swig of Bailey's, and have them drive me to the airport.

Anyways. I was able to sleep on the flight, ("Thank you, Tylenol PM!") for a few hours, so when I got to Philly, I took a shower and was ready to go sightseeing. We saw the Comcast Center (what kind of kick-a$$ place has a 3-story TV screen in their lobby?!), Independence Hall, and the Liberty Bell.

*Please note the beautiful Bill O'Reilly/O'Reilly Factor shirt that I got for Christmas

The next day, we got up at the plumber's-crack of dawn and got on the train to Trenton, NJ, where we then switched trains to go to New York. Once we emerged from the station under Madison Square Garden and I got over my initial shock as to how many people there are in New York, we went to our postage-stamp of a hotel room to change before heading over to the Square.

Horrible picture (it was COLD), but I was pretty excited to be in New York

We secured our spot in the Square, and settled in for a loooooooooong wait before the Big Ball Drop. During that time, the people watching was FABULOUS (especially the guy who was badly break-dancing without a shirt on in the 20-degree cold), we heard Jennifer Lopez rehearse her set about 54,480 times before my ears started to bleed, watched Nick and Vanessa awkward kiss on the Nivea Kiss stage, saw a proposal, and saw Carson Daly. THEN. it was. THE MOMENT.

Watching that Ball drop made the past 10 hours seem like 10 minutes. Hearing everyone singing 'Imagine' and dance around to 'I Got a Feeling' got the blood and adrenaline pumping, and made us forget how cold, tired, sore, and hungry we were (surprisingly, none of us had to use the bathroom, which goes to show that if you don't drink fluids for 24 hours and eat lots of salt, you too can go 10 hours without using the bathroom!), and made it all worth it.

After getting out of the Square and finding some street vendor food, we finally made it back to our hotel room and fell asleep around 3am. We woke up at 9, showered, checked out, and made our way uptown to our next hotel. After dropping off our stuff, we ate, went to Central Park, FAO Schwartz, 5th Avenue, Rockefeller Center, and a ton of other places. We didn't get to the southern part of the island, simply because we didn't have enough time. Which just means that I'll have to go back someday in order to see Ground Zero, the Statue of Liberty, and Wall Street/Trinity Church.

The whole group in Central Park - I love this picture

A week later, I'm still recovering - but it was all worth it, every last second. The experience and weekend I spent with my friends will always be a treasure for me, and I definitely want to go back someday.

But if you think I'm leaving my beautiful mountains, lakes, and beach for the concrete of New York, you got another thing comin'.