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'.