Blogging rut. Real bad. Allergies/summer cold attack not helping and making me a whiny five-year-old. Plz send ice cream. Also, blog ideas.
WeeMo, I'm working on one that you requested, but it's not "there" yet. Anyone else? Come on. You know you want to. Help a girl out.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
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.
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.
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