Knock, Knock

Hello everyone.

I know you are reading, and yet, I'm not having a dialogue with you. What do you want to read about? What's interesting to you? Anything you're wondering about me or William? Sorry, I'm in a bit of a blogging lull and I think it's all boring up in here. So let me know if I'm doing ok or I'm boring or there's something you'd rather hear about.

In the meantime, I have been laughing about this Cheesus--Jesus on a Cheeto--all day. I love when people find Jesus in processed food snacks. I guess if I thought Jesus was trying to communicate with me, or reveal himself to me, I would assume it wouldn't be in a bag of something made by Frito-Lay. Cheesus.


Also, I saw video today, for the first time, of my parents' engagement night and wedding day. I cried like a baby--what else is new? It's such a strange feeling, actually watching my parents in action, at 20, when all I've seen are still photographs to this point. And to know all the history that's followed. I love seeing the outfits, the cars they drove to the church, my dad pretending like he doesn't want to get in the car, my mom waving good-bye before she walks down the aisle, pretending to sneak out the back door. They've always had that way with each other, I guess, that flirty teasing way, where they bicker and pretend that they both aren't in love. My dad wore his army uniform and my mom wore a knee-length shift dress with gloves. So '60s, so awesome. They make such a beautiful couple. Still.
I saw a quick look that passed over my mom's face before she walked down the aisle, where she bit her bottom lip, and I know I made that exact same face just two months ago. Anxiety and shock and excitement all rolled into one. Watching her was like watching me, twenty pounds thinner, and with a dark brown bouffant. Kind of a surreal experience. But sweet and awesome and fun. It made my heart bigger.I hope I watch my own wedding video 41 years from now, with William, and I get the same look on my face that my mom got today. Or maybe I'll watch it with my own daughter, too, who knows?
It's nice to be reminded of where you come from once in awhile.

PS

For the Elle Decor, check out my comments. I believe a link was left there to check it out. Let me know if it doesn't work for you.

Thanks, Farmers

Tonight we ate like Minnesota-farm-spoiled gluttons.

On the dinner table: caprese salad, sweet corn, BLTs with cheese and avocado. I'm sure there's a lot of fat hanging out there, but man, I am just in heaven when I eat all that.

Nearly every weekend in the summer, we head to the St. Paul Farmer's Market and load up on whatever the farmers have grown for us that week. If we had this weather year-round, people would be dying for our produce.

To me, you can ship all the Driscoll's raspberries you want to Minnesota, but by the time they get here, they taste no better than the plastic they're shipped in. When I was a kid, my mom had rows of raspberry bushes outside, and we would head out there with giant mixing bowls. Every night we endured the awful mosquitoes (they love hanging around the plants) to pluck all those juicy, raspberries from overgrown bushes. (Sometimes I'd just watch from the swingset while my mom did all the hard work.) We'd have mixing bowls heaping over, and my mom would make jam and we would eat raspberries with cream every night after dinner. Juicy, giant, sweet and tart all at once. A huge taste in a small package. The way they're meant to taste.

Same with tomatoes. A beefsteak tomato in August with a cob of sweet corn, dripping with butter. Can't beat it.

When I was little, I never understood how my parents could gorge on that stuff every week. Now, I do the exact same thing. William and I pushed away from the table tonight, totally stuffed--but not uncomfortably so--ending our meals with the perfect bite of salty/sweet/juicy. Mmmm.

Sometimes the small things in life can be so good. Thanks, farmers, for all your work.

No Way In Elle

So, do any of you have a subscription to Elle Décor?

If so, step away from the screen, find the June 2008 issue, open it up to page 110, the travel feature about the Twin Cities.

See that photo of the restaurant/bar with people inside, with the orange glow? The girl seated at the bar in the yellow dress (with poor posture) is me, the handsome devil seated to my left is William.

OK seriously. I never thought we'd ever appear on the pages of Elle Décor. Imagine my surprise when William and I discovered it.

He's Not Petty

So, last night, because my friend Fatty (who knows of his nickname and is not offended, probably because he's not really fat) is an astute ticket buyer, I was seated in the fifteenth row for a Tom Petty show. (Thanks, Superfat. You rock.)

Tom Petty has been one of my favorite singers for . . . my whole life, I think. It's like I was born knowing the lyrics to all the songs. Tom has comforted me during the rough times. He's celebrated my big moments. He's been with me on summer nights, cruising around with the windows down, volume loud enough to just drown out my singing. Tom understands when I feel like a loser or an outsider. And he understands when I just feel really damn lucky to have the life I have.

I love the jangly guitar, the consistently rhyming lyrics, the basic truths. I love the southern nasal drawl. I love the out-and-out rock. I love his criminally underrated Heartbreakers. I love how approachable and normal they all seem. I love that he loves his job.

I have now seen Tom four times live. Every time has been unbelievable. Last night didn't disappoint. Electrifying. Highlight of the night for me was when he sang "End of the Line," from his days with the Traveling Wilburys (a supergroup that never really became a supergroup...another awesome thing about Tom). I could have died happy. I'm still happy from those four minutes. Sometimes you just have to escape, and I can do that with Tom.

I'm learnin' to fly . . . but I ain't got wings.

Everything just feels all right when Tom's around.

Money, It's a Crime

Today I saw in the NY Times:

Women Are Now Equal as Victims of Poor Economy

Uncomfortable Answers to Questions on the Economy

Given a Shovel, Americans Dig Deeper Into Debt


Woes Afflicting Mortgage Giants Raise Loan Rates

Two Troubled Banks Each Post Billions in Losses

Losses Mount, and Airlines Plan Steeper Spending Cuts


Trying to Save by Increasing Doctors' Fees


The Culture of Debt


Now, I've been feeling these pinches, for sure. I've been essentially "underemployed" since March, now just drawing my first paycheck (and not a full one, yet). I have definitely noticed food prices going up, and I'm definitely spending twice as much on gas as I did when we first moved into our place. I have been one of the unemployed masses. At times in my life, I have made some stupid decisions on how to handle money. I'm sure I'm not alone here.

But this transition time has been especially hard. I get paid once a month now, and my first paycheck wasn't a full (or barely even half) a pay period. I had tapered off my freelance quite a bit since I was in Hawaii and then working on getting a full time gig. So I essentially have like...a week and a half's worth of money to last until August 15. It sucks. Hard. Worse than college, because now I have more worries, more responsibilities, and more expensive taste.

Times is tough. All over. I know I'm not alone. But being broke can be sort of isolating, if you can't spend money and your friends are going out.

So what I'm saying is . . . if you know me in real life and notice I am not around much in the next few weeks socially, I'm not avoiding anyone or being too cool (trust me, I'd rather go out!). I simply do not have the cash, and won't for a while. (and maybe even extendo-awhile since I need to get a new mattress before I break my back.)

If you want to join in on a cheap bottle of wine and some CD-playing, I'll be in my living room.

And while I'm at it, once I get used to a steady paycheck again, I'm trying to be more fiscally responsible, too, so I'm trying to figure out ways to cut back and save more. Kat on a budget. Boooooo.

Quite a Week

I guess I had myself really fooled that life would slow down after the wedding.

This week has been insane.

I think the day that best illustrates it was the day of the photo shoot of our house...running around for flowers and props, cleaning, and then a shoot that culminated in jumping on the bed with William, hands joined.

Which broke our bed.

Yeah, I wasn't really in the market for a new mattress since this one is only about five years old.

Awesome.

Anything You Want, You Got It Part II

Here's me, trying to not be nervous before the wedding. I'm standing at the top of the stairs that led onto the beach, and my mom is pinning flowers in my hair. In my hand is my something blue, a handkerchief my grandma carried at her wedding, my mom carried at hers, and my sister carried at hers.


Our minister, blowing the conch shell to begin the wedding ceremony:


My honey, with his back to the chaos behind him, waiting to come down the stairs to the beach. We had requested not to see each other before the wedding.


I think this was the look on William's face when he saw me for the first time, but I can't be sure.


My daddy, walking me down the sandy aisle:


Our first moments with our gorgeous wedding party:


I don't know where we are in the ceremony here, but I like that we both appear to be giggling.


Serenaded by our guitarist, who sang us the Hawaiian Wedding Song (again, look at that wedding party):


Oooh! The ring!


Ooh! His ring!


we actually kissed four times in the ceremony. Here's a shot of one of them:


...And here's the final kiss, which sealed the total deal. Look how happy our minister looks!


Being announced as man and wife. This photo makes me giggle. One reason why: check out my best girl in green. I love how she's laughing at me.


We did it!


After the ceremony and portrait shots to come!

A Little More Aloha

I just have to mention my last post, which was a stupid post, was my 200th post! A little anniversary to enjoy.

I was just going through some old files on my computer and tossing things in the trash. We're doing housecleaning and I figured I could do a little computer cleaning, too. While doing said cleaning, I came across a document that was our guide to the place we stayed in Kauai.

It made my heart hurt.

I miss using the words lanai, aloha, mahalo. I miss sounding out the street names. I miss tree tunnels and mountains and white sandy beaches. And while I don't miss wedding planning--and am relieved to have it over—I do miss the anticipation of jetting off to my beloved Hawaii. Everyone likes to have a trip looming in the future, right?

Whenever I get stressed out, I usually come around to thinking about how running away to Hawaii would feel good. Except I'd still have to get oil changes and buy stamps (a lot more of them, come to think of it) in Hawaii. I'd REALLY be on a budget. And I'd have heat rash pretty much all the time. So I know that this isn't a reasonable avenue of thinking, but I've only been home about two months and already I'm itching to go back. (So jealous, Wan!)

it isn't that I'm unhappy or even experiencing a drought of good weather here. It's just that I wouldn't mind a little more aloha.

Our minister told us the day we married that because we chose the beautiful island of Maui, that we are ohana with him, with Hawaii. Hawaii is officially one of our homes, a place with family, a place that will be filled with special memories for both of us, forever.







I miss you, Hawaii.

On My Mind

*Starting a new job--in a related field, but not what I have been doing for the past five years--and being the new girl.

*Grandma's 82 this week. She still looks beautiful. I hope I remain person who's full of vitality by then.

*Life is going too fast. The summer is slipping by, and I've been swamped.

*I'm broke. Waiting for a first paycheck after being underemployed is rough. Serious.

*Starting work around 9 is SO MUCH better than starting around 8. Hallelujah!

*Must.Start.Thank-you notes for the wedding.

*Must get keys made, stamps, oil change.

*Must prepare house for photo shoot next week.

*Finish writing freelance pieces (I interviewed Jane Seymour this morning!)

*Get laundry done

*Must see friend Fatty's house

*Glad my friend is back

There's always just so much it feels like. I've been looking forward to getting my life back a little bit after the wedding... That hasn't happened yet. I need a breather, people!

Any advice for what you do to relax—or keep on top of your million things you have to do?

Home Sweet Home (At least, one of them)

Two photos of the home I wrote about last night. Just thought I'd share some of William's talent and give you a little visual.



The yard:

Home

I have been doing a lot of contemplating lately about what makes a home, home.
I grew up just a few miles from where I live now, and St. Paul and its metro area will always be home for me, no matter where I may go. (Probably nowhere permanently because I'm such a fraidy-cat).

This weekend, I went to one of my homes. I took a road trip with my husband and brother-in-law, four and a half hours north, to a cabin that resides quietly near at the Canadian border. It's near a few towns you've never heard of. The mosquitoes take steroids. A local bar names the geographic location as "where the pavement ends and the north begins." I can't make this stuff up.

The nights become so pitch black you can see the swirls and whorls of the Milky Way, actual milky, sparkly spindles that wind through the sky. Everything smells like pine and clean water and gravel road. When I was young, we got one radio station. It was old country, interspersed with Achy Breaky Heart, and promptly at 9 p.m., you lost reception. It didn't matter if it was mid-song. We got one tv station. Usually it showed Sesame Street in the afternoons. I read a lot of books.

It was there I learned to fish, and I learned the difference between rock bass, sunfish, walleye, crappies, northerns, and perch. I saw a rainbow end in my front yard. I saw an eagle teach her babies to fly. A snake slithered over my foot in the outhouse—indoor plumbing is a fairly new addition to our outpost. I can be fully immersed in 70-degree water in less than a minute and after some initial screaming, enjoy it.

I have convinced wild ducks to eat out of my hand. Come to think of it, I saw ducks immediately after birth, pushed out of their duck house to find the lake. I had a bear amble by the living room window. I have seen fawns frolic with their mom. I've danced in a bar to the live tunes of Johnny Cash's former guitarist. I learned to drive a three wheeler.

I've learned about respecting the environment and seen the effects of what happens when you don't. I've become protective of that environment.

I've learned a lot of life lessons and I've gotten to know my parents and my siblings in ways I don't think I would have, had we always stayed in the city. We play games together at the cabin. We watch less TV and fish together. We tell stories from a long time ago. Those are treasured bits of my family history.

I have eaten a lot of appetizers, enjoyed a lot of cocktail hours, swam in a lot of cold water, and screamed at bugs and other slithery and slimy critters. I've itched a lot of bites. I've listened to wicked raindrops cascade onto a tin roof, and done nothing else because we're out of power.

I've spent a lot of time in awe, in total wonder, at how something so beautiful has become a part of me. Trees like old friends. The massive unpredictability of weather that makes a good day feel like winning the lottery.

Just yesterday, I woke up, threw on some day clothes, brushed my teeth, and headed out on the boat with my dad and brother-in-law and husband. We fished for three-ish hours, carrying in quite a few sunnies. My dad filleted them immediately afterward. We donned our suits and our brave faces and waded into the water. We floated on noodles and bobbed with waves and rinsed off. My sister and niece sat in the lounge chairs, shiny from sunscreen, and giggled at my screaming at the cold water. But, I promise, it really is refreshing once you get in.

We ate tacos for dinner and packed sunny filets in our cooler. We packed up reluctantly, bid everyone farewell. As the dust kicked up under our wheels, I thought about how I felt like I was driving away from home to go home. Behind this urban-girl veneer is a country girl.

4th of July

I'm heading out of town, to my parents' cabin. Far away in the north woods, where WiFi is a futuristic concept. Where cell phones do not get reception. Where it smells like pine and sweet water and plants and sand.
I will decompress from all this madness.
And I will come back and blog. Promise.