Dress design for Shabby Apple dresses

I would never consider myself a fashion designer in any way, but when I heard about the Shabby Apple Dare to Design contest I thought I'd at least throw my hat in the ring.

I mean, I own 2 Shabby Apple Dresses, regularly go to their site, and recommend it to almost every girl I meet. And if I had enough dresses to wear one every day of the week I would.

There are lots of places and reasons to wear a dress. In that spirit I've decided to exhibit 4 different designs that I would happily wear in a given week.


Dress #1: She Works Hard for the Money

This dress would be perfect for me to wear to the office. Starting at the top, it is a white cotton top...double thick of course so it is totally opaque. Is there anything worse that having to wear a cami under a dress? It always rides up and bunches under the bust. I hate it so much I can't even explain. Around the neckline are a few very deliberate box pleats to provide some interest. The sleeves of this dress are so cool. I attempted to borrow the construction from a fall Kate Spade dress. They have a typical sleeve and then on top there is a piece that wraps from front to back, and just at the outside there is a little tube that the wrap around piece goes through. Trust me, I'll look cool.

Buttons go up the back of the bodice and at the waist is a 2" wide black belt-like feature that also buttons in the back with a slightly offset tab. If you can't tell yet, I love the little details.

The skirt is a tight pencil made of a pin striped stretch wool (or cotton if wool makes the dress too expensive), complete with a slit in the back to help you be able to walk. However, the slit will not be too high. Flashing my blindingly white inner thigh at work is NOT on the agenda.


Dress #2: What a day for a Day Dream


Did you see the awesome brown plaid skirt from Shade this fall? I love it so much. It inspired the designing of this plaid weekend dress. I just can't think of a better dress to get out and take that first warm spring day bike ride. Me, on an awesome cruiser bike with the front basket filled with bright yellow daffodils?Perfect!

The fabric for this dress is a loose slightly silky cotton plaid in gray, olive green (or alternately a warm brown and lilac purple...I can't choose) and crisp white that drapes perfectly, making it so easy to wear.

Sometimes sleeves seem like such and afterthought to a design, but I think they can really make or break a look. The ones I've shown here are have ruffled cut outs, but still go all the way around the inside of the arm. There is nothing I hate more than those ruffled flowy sleeves that don't go all the way around, thus necessitating a cami just to cover the exposed bit of skin under your armpit. As stated earlier, I HATE wearing a cami under a dress....

Another cool detail of this dress is the self-fabric built in belt. Whatever happened to the fabric covered belt that matches a dress? It's all over Mad Men, but I hardly ever see it done really well these days.

Oh, also, the ear doctor calls this one "The Haggis" because of the plaid. Do you think I should change it's name?


Dress #3: Easy like Sunday Morning


For me, this would be the perfect dress to wear to church. Inspired by this dress at Anthropologie it has a sailor feel, but what makes it special is the construction.


Basic royal blue striped fabric, cut on on angle and sewn together to make a herringbone bodice will be so slimming and flattering. The shear volume of the skirt will create a pretty hourglass figure and make it really easy to wear. If you haven't noticed yet, I like a dress with a very defined waist band.....

Dress #4: Eight Days a Week


This is the dress that I think will fit in best with Shabby Apple's overall design aesthetic. It's comfortable, cozy, easy to wear and has pretty easy construction, so could probably be sold for a pretty low price.

This dress is made from a sky blue light weight jersey...it'd feel like you were slipping on your favorite broken in t-shirt. But have about a million times more style, especially if you paired it with a sunny yellow cropped cardigan!

The upper yoke of the dress is made from woven tubes of the jersey and backed by a solid of the same so it isn't see through. The sleeves are slightly puffed with a stretchy ribbing that hits just above the elbow. I have a shirt with this same sleeves and I LOVE it. Sooo flattering. It has a very wide, gathered waist band that sits at the natural waist and is the only part of the dress that's close to the body.

My usual complaint with a jersey dress is that it shows all my body's imperfections because they don't usually float away from my body past my waist. In an attempt to solve that issue, the skirt of this dress is a full circle, meaning that if you sat on the ground you could pull it out in every direction all around you. Having the weight and volume of all that fabric will really help create a pretty silhouette and be very flattering on almost every body type. I tried a banana republic dress that was very similar to this dress a year ago and loved everything about it....except how it didn't have sleeves and was annoyingly short!



So there you have it. Any comments?

The best Colorado Halloween costume is a ski bunny

Because of this, the view from my office window:


I'm really wishing for this:


and these:



Instead, I'm consoling myself with this:

Clash of the Titans

The ear doctor and I are stopped at an impasse. We were wondering what time the average person gets up in the morning. Please, help us settle this debate. What time do you wake up in the morning? Is it closer to 6am or closer to 7am?

Two of a kind

There are so many crazy similarities between the ear doctor and myself. Things we experienced in college, places we've been on vacation, shows we watched as kids. Our parents even both made personalized melamine places for us as kids and then gave them to us when we moved out of the house.

So it shouldn't really surprise me when we both think of the same things sometimes. But it still does.

On Friday we closed on our house! To celebrate I went out and bought him a brand new fancy pen. You know....so he could sign all that paperwork in style. It was the perfect gift...simultaneously functional and sentimental.

After signing our lives away we both went to work and met up at the house that evening. He unlocked the door, scooped me up in his arms and carried me over the threshold into our empty, echoing, cavernous house. We at take out Thai food on the floor of our barren dining room and had to ask the neighbor if we could borrow a couple of forks.

Saturday morning we woke up bright and early to start working on our little home. Our first project was to pick paint colors for the front room and mark out the wainscoting we're planning to build. I ran around asking him if he brought a tape measure and all I got was his iconic sneaky I've-got-a-secret face.

He led me out to the garage, told me to close my eyes, hold out my hands and brace myself for some weight. Then, he filled my eager expectant palms with the coolest housewarming present ever. My very own TOOL BELT FILLED WITH BRAND NEW TOOLS!

How cool is that!

It was the perfect gift....both functional and sentimental.

staggering

It’s only 8:54 this morning and already I’ve heard two heart rending stories told by co-workers that I just barely met.

The first I was getting to know and I asked what his wife did for a profession. He told me that she started out in the early 80’s as a nurse. A nurse, who contracted a staph infection, was in a hospital bed for 40 days where she flat lined twice. A nurse who 5 years after healing from the infection was then poked by a needle improperly stored in a sharps container. A needle infected with Hep C. Which she contracted. A nurse who 5 years after that found out she had liver cancer. After waiting a few years on the transplant list she eventually was saved by her own son’s donation.

Which triggered the second co-worker to tell me of his recent experience. One May morning he took his 18 month old daughter in for her check up. Upon examining her abdomen the pediatrician cancelled his family trip and told him they’d be taking her to get a CT scan. They found a tumor in her liver the size of a softball. For the next 6 months their lives revolved around the hospital. He showed me a picture of his adorable little girl taken on the official day of remission. One week before Christmas. The holidays for them last year were euphoric. Her middle name is Noel.


Sometimes I’m blown away by the experiences that people go through. You look at someone on the surface and see them plugging away. You see them just living their lives and figure you know who they are and what they’re about.

But you don’t.

Almost everyone has an amazing story like this. Everyone has deep, real issues that they rise above on a daily basis. Amazing.

Stereotypical

Are you watching the Next Iron Chef on Food Network? Because the ear doctor and I totally are. I can’t decide which show I like better, this or Top Chef. I like that the potential Iron Chefs are typically older and more experienced. They’ve each paid their dues and there aren’t too many total dish failures.

Plus Next Iron Chef has my food crush Alton Brown as the host.

Love that guy.

Anyway, I ask because I was thinking about a past challenge they gave the contestants. They gave them each a surprise ingredient that reflected their culinary pasts. The Jewish guy got Matzah, the German gal got some beer, ect. As I was suddsing up my hair this morning I wondered to myself, “If I were vying to impress the commissioner enough to become his next Iron Chef, what ingredient would they throw at me? What could possibly symbolize my background?”

Since I grew up in the Seattle area I hoped that they’d give me a nice fresh wild salmon fillet (which I’d probably make en papillote). Or maybe they’d give me a firm juicy Fuji apple (then I’d try to make a quick version of this cake…I made it last week and it blew my mind).

But then I realize that since I’m LDS (Mormon) I’d probably whisk off that gleaming silver dome and find a box of lime jell-o or a red and white can of Campbell’s Cream of Chicken soup.


What do you think they'd surprise you with?

No need to rage against

The only thing that bugs me about living in Colorado is condemning look I get from people when I bring a McDonald’s cup into a room.

I know it’s not good for me to eat at McDonald's. I get it. I’m slowly killing myself with saturated fat and aspartame. And I know some people would NEVER succumb the lure of the golden arches, but does that mean that I deserve a dirty look if I do?

I mean, it’s not like I’m lighting up and filling your air with toxic second-hand smoke or anything?

It’s just a soda.


If someone doesn’t eat fast food because they don’t like it or it makes them feel gross then I totally understand not partaking. I wouldn’t either. If someone was worried about teaching their kids healthy eating habits so they try to avoid it, props to them. If they don’t think they’ll have any kind of self control because the nostalgia associated with the flavor of some crispy salty fries, by all means, stay away.

But just keep this in mind: not eating it does not make a person cooler than someone who does.


Similarly, not having cable does not make you more hip/righteous/awesome than someone who likes to watch a little mindless reality TV every now and then. It just means you’ll probably be left out of a lot of water cooler conversations at work.


Mainstream is not always horrible.

Paint chip round #1

Well, we close on our house in 1 WEEK!!!!!!!! I'm so excited that I can barely contain myself. In honor of this exciting occasion the ear doctor and I took a little trip to a couple local hardware stores to pick out...you guessed it...PAINT CHIPS!

We've decided that we're going to put up a light colored wall paneling about 4' high and paint the upper portion of the wall a brownish gray. We got roughly 60 different options and started narrowing them down by holding up the chips to our couch and rug. At this point we've narrowed it down to our top 10 that we'll get samples of an paint square on the wall a la Jeff Lewis.

The green chip is our rug color, and the gold is what we're thinking of making our sparsely distributed accent color. Any chips that you would throw out? Any that are particularly intriguing?

Nick names

In my line of work there is a particular nick name that I've just grown to love. I've heard it at least twice a week for the last 7 years. It's funny, endearing and just so perfect.

What is the nick name?

Graybeards.


A graybeard is an wizened old engineer who has an astounding amount of experience and knowledge crammed into his brain. He's seen everything and he can give advise that no one else can. These people are honored. Their opinion is gold.

The entire aerospace industry is pretty awesome, but one of the really cool things is that these graybeards are still working. They birthed the industry and are still around.


For a society and culture that considers youth the pinnacle of living and tends to see little value in the elderly I feel proud to belong to a group who honors the knowledge gained by age. Who values the experience and insight garnered during a long life. Who realizes that the previous generation has a critically important voice.

That's all.

Misjudging book covers

Yesterday I had a meeting at a remote office at noon. Usually these meetings take a while and I hadn't eaten lunch yet, so I thought that I would have to skip lunch.

The ear doctor HATES it when I skip lunch because I come home to him a grouchy, tired, frazzled mess.

So when my meeting ended early and I knew I was going to drive right by a Panera it seems the stars had aligned. There was nothing more in the world I wanted than a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.

After I ate my $9 lunch (which would have cost me $.73 at home) I threw my purse over my shoulder and practically started sprinting across the parking lot to my car.

However, as I got about half way to my vehicle I passed a group of high school kids who looked a little rough around the edges. And since it was about 1:30 at this point I was pretty sure they were cutting class. I myself, never cut class in high school. My friends never skipped, so I never saw the point of missing out on the social interaction. How would I know what hilarious thing my crush said in English class?

The kids who stood around in the school sanctioned smoking area (yes, Spokane is ghetto and supports under aged smoking) and always ditched classes made me nervous.

And, despite being out of high school for over a decade, passing by this group of kids in the parking lot made me nervous. That old feeling of uncertainty bubbled up. I tried my best to seem confident and self assured so no one would know how I felt inside, but it was still there.

Until the last kid, the scraggliest one looked up at me, made eye contact and called out in a friendly voice, "good morning!"

On autopilot I responded, "you too!"

We passed.

I realized it was way passed noon and turned around and said, "actually, good afternoon, right?"


He turned around, gave me a big goofy nice smile and said, "yeah, I guess so."

I'll take one of everything please

I was really bummed to learn that Pushing Daisies got the axe. Not that I totally loved the plot lines or some of the crazy characters. My affection for that show was won by the costuming department. The clothes on that show blew my mind and served as a reminder that I should (1) wear more color and (2) invest in some great hats.

But with the end of the show where would I turn for outer vestment inspiration?

Enter Glee.

My oh my! Is anyone else just loving the clothes they're putting on our clean freak, overly neurotic guidance councilor Emma Pillsbury. I mean, it's probably a stretch that high school guidance councilor could afford this wardrobe...but let's suspend reality, ok?

Just take a gander:

Would I wear any of these looks? You bet your bottom dollar I would! Plus it doesn't hurt that her hair is pretty much exactly my color...

Friendships with strangers

Did you watch Nie Nie on Oprah this week?

Because I totally did.


I sat on the floor of my living room with my cute little doggie on my lap and cried my little eyes out. (he's not allowed on our couch). It was so awesome to get to see her actually moving and talking and breathing.


She was exactly what I'd imagined...someone who is so loving and warm that you just want to be around them all the time. Like a big steaming mug of hot chocolate in person form.

Family photo

My mom told me last night that our family will be taking family photos the day after Thanksgiving this year. So, I threw this little pic together as an inspiration for our outfits.

So far I think it's a pretty good jumping off place. The only thing I'm not thrilled with is the color of little Charlotte's skirt. I think/hope that it's just the coloring from the screen grab and in person it will probably be a bit more of a khaki color?

What do you think? Any wardrobe change suggestions?

Out of the woods

Good news! I survived.

To tell you the truth, I wasn't really sure I'd make it. The first couple days of the flu aren't really that bad for me. I usually have a pretty positive outlook and only expect it to last the requisite 48 hours. I figure that being sick is a part of life...part of the human experience, you know?

But when hour 49 rolls around and the incessant throbbing of cranial pressure hasn't yet subsided I start to slip into the a realm of the unreal where the world spins around me and time has lost meaning. I sit on the couch in my pajamas where day equals night equals day.

Until, glory of glories, the end is granted. The haze of influenza is lifted up from my sorry carnal body on the blessed wings of divine goodness and I am freed.

I look around, reborn and realize that A WEEK AND A HALF has passed without my notice.

The only indicated that time has passed inside my home is the 3 foot tall tower of used Kleenex on the floor by the couch and the different striated layers of mystery goo on the cuffs of my pajama sleeves.

On being sick

There are a lot of things that aren't fair in this world. 1% of the population controls 99% of the wealth. Chance randomly picks people to get cancer and suffer. Kids grow up without parents who love them.

There's lots of unfairness.


And while it's not anywhere near that magnitude, there is a certain annoying element of unfairness in my life that I experience about 3 times a year. It is this: I get sick as a dog and the ear doctor remains untouched.

I wallow on the couch, throwing used infected tissue all over the place and he has the audacity not to ever be affected by it. It's not that I really want him to be sick, but it just doesn't make sense. He's the one on an undergrad infested college campus all day. He's the one that gives therapy to little germ-riddled kiddos during the week. He's the immuno-compromised diabetic for crying out loud!

And yet, it's me who is laid up.

Always.



This annoying bit of whining brought to you by a lot of frustrated staring right at the ear doctor's forehead at 3 am.

Help us Design! Living room edition

Great ideas all! I sort of love all you fellow bloggers out there. So here is what we were thinking:

First, place our big couch under the front window. I think it's the only place this big guy will really fit.

Then we'll frame out the front window window with floor length curtains. Originally I was just thinking f using my thick white brushed cotton curtains, but maybe we could get a bunch of these from IKEA. It'd be a cool pattern and not too girly...

We'll put the TV and the black entertainment center on the wall across from the couch. Last, but not least we'll have the mid-century chair in the middle of the long wall facing the couch for a conversation area with the ear doctor's leaning shelf behind the chair for height. I'm pretty sure we'll need some kind of footrest for this chair. I'd really like to make a cool Moroccan pouf out of some geometric gray and white fabric. Then I could make a pillow out of the same fabric for the couch. However, I'm not so sure the ear doctor is sold on having anything called a "pouf" in our house.

After seeing this room start to come together I think we'll really need a new coffee table. The one we have was a $60 steal, but it's dark black and rectangular with turned legs. I really think we need more curved lines in the room since everything is so rectilinear...so this one from overstock might be ok:

Maybe that would make the room feel too cramped and filled with furniture. So here is the big question: What color do we paint the walls?

If you suggest beige/tan/oatmeal I might just puke everywhere...

Help us design!

The ear doctor and I have lived in the same 3rd floor apartment for the 2.5 years of our marriage. I love how we've put the apartment together, but it has never really felt totally US. We can't paint the walls so they are the plain flat tan. The same flat tan as the carpet and even the ceiling. We're starting to feel like we live inside a bowl of cheerios.

So now that we're pretty much in the home stretch of this house buying extravaganza my thoughts are turning to what we'll do when we move it. What color we'll do the walls, how we'll arrange furniture, and all the rest.

I thought it'd be fun to get your thoughts on the subject so I'm starting a help us design! series. Fun? I hope so!

Here is a 3-D model I made in about 10 minutes of the main floor of our house.

It has a living/dining room that is all one space seperated by a cool architectural arch. Behind the dining is the kitchen. Behind the living room is our bedroom. In between the two is the bathroom. It's a pretty typical little 1920's bungalow. Here's a bird's eye view of the layout.

I thought it would be fun to start today with furniture layout of the living room. We've somehow got to work in our deep brown leather couch (88"Wx43"Dx32"H) :

The awesome mid-century chair that my dad made:

Our green 5 x 7 rug:

and our TV/entertainment stand:


Tell me to put my stuff, what to add, what to get rid of, whatever! Tomorrow I'll show you the idea the ear doctor and I came up with.

Work with what you've got

Between the ear doctor and myself we own 6 cameras. 2 use real film (a Polaroid and a point and shoot), and 4 are digital (2 phones, 1 point and shoot and 1 beautiful SLR). Every camera except our phones has some sentimental value to me, as they were given as gifts.

I LOVE my beautiful expensive camera. I love messing around with depth of field in my photos. And nothing comes out crisper that the photos taken with that lovely contraption.



However, I have confession to make. Lately my favorite camera has been my cheap little camera phone. The way natural light always saturates the color out of things blows me away. And the fact that the "shutter speed" is so slow makes the coolest images without me even trying.





At my skill level I NEVER could have got this image with my SLR.

My hero

Last weekend we had our official home inspection.

In the past 2 months I think I've heard roughly 1.23 million horror stories of people finding horrible terrors during home inspections. My cube neighbor at work had to pay $8000 on his house to fix the stucco siding. The ear doctor's advisor had 4 contracts fall through because of horrible home inspections. People flipping houses on HGTV always have problems with their home inspections.

As a result I was so anxious to know the results of our inspection I was almost sick to my stomach.

We met our inspector at 8 on the dot. We introduced ourselves and I immediately trusted this 5'6" curmudgeon. I put my full faith in his experienced eye. He held my little heart in his hand.

For the next 4 hours he took his time cautiously poking around our new house, moving the seller's furniture, opening and shutting their windows and running their dishwasher. He used his heat gun to make sure the fridge was cold enough and the oven had it's heat. He crawled in basement crannies and stretched through attic eaves.

When, after this exhaustive search, he told me the worst thing wrong with this house was an improperly installed window and hose spigot I wanted to throw my arms around his slight shoulders and deeply breath in his stale coffee breath.


Full steam ahead, little house!

The best season

This might shock my mom when she reads it, but I'm going to go ahead and let the world know. I can't keep it in any longer. If I do I might just burst.


This weekend I made oatmeal for breakfast and I REALLY LIKED IT!


Growing up in my mother's house meant one main thing: breakfast. Real food, together, r-e-a-l-l-y early. And after bowl upon bowl of hot gooey oatmeal I just couldn't take it any longer. I graduated from high school, packed up my box of lucky charms and never looked back. For the past decade the soft, mushy, hot whole grain hasn't willingly passed my lips.

Until this weekend.


Because to me a hot bowl of oatmeal is akin to a new pair of shoes and a wool coat. It's the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and Elmer's glue. It's what I eat right before raking the fallen leaves and picking my Halloween pumpkin.

Oatmeal is my mom's love and my dad's annual prayer for my personal well-being.




And just so you know, I made it with a huge scoop of brown sugar, almond extract, dried cherries and toasted hazelnuts.....

Second degree

Every time I use my oven safe skillet to roast something in the oven I burn myself. I always forget that the dumb handle is the same temperature as the piping hot oven. Yesterday was no exception. As I reached in to test the temperature of my brick chicken my mind forgot to warn my arm of the impending danger. The result?

A disgusting weeping, painful blister.

I always thought a blister was a gross thing my skin did to remind my of my stupidity. Forget your sunscreen on a trip to the lake? Blisters. Forget to break in your hiking books before a 3 day backpacking trip? Blisters. Forget that a pan in a 350 degree oven for an hour might be hot? Blisters.

But that's not really the case.

From Wikipedia (AKA the source of all knowledge):

A blister may form when the skin has been damaged by friction or rubbing, heat, cold or chemical exposure. Fluid collects between the epidermis--the upper layer
of the skin--and the layers below. This fluid cushions the tissue underneath, protecting it from further damage and allowing it to heal.

Turns out a blister is something my skin does to protect itself from future pain. Its purpose is to help me move forward. To help me heal.

And the hardest part of the whole blister process is not the initial pain or the strange bubbled up skin. It's having the patience to just let it be. It's realizing that the best thing I can do is wait and let it heal itself. It's resisting the urge to poke at that strange water balloon under my skin just to see what will happen.

And I know if I can just WAIT, it'll all turn out alright.

But WAITING is hard.

It begins

The month between signing a contract and closing on a house is filled with one thing.




Paper.

Already I'm up to my eyeballs and this is only the paper showing the current status of my bank and retirement accounts. Just this morning I signed my name no less than a hundred times. Yes, my social security number is what I say it is. Yes, I understand that I shouldn't commit loan fraud. Yes, this pitifully small number is my boiled down material worth.

Before this is over I am going to be responsible for the death of at least 10 Amazonian rain forest trees...

We got it!

The ear doctor and I dated for 2 1/2 years...MUCH longer than the typical couple with our religious background. Neither of us felt any hurry to get married and we both really wanted to make sure that it was the right thing for us.

Plus, up until about the 2 year mark the idea of getting engaged was daunting for me. Actually, terrifying might be a better word. It loomed at me in the background. I worried about it's potential to ruin our relationship. I worried that it would signal the end of my independence and the beginning of the seemingly never-ending life of compromise. I worried a lot.

But one day I talked to my mom and she, as usual, had some words of wisdom to share. She told me to look at engagement not as the final commitment for all time, but as a promise toward that commitment. If something horrible happened, promises can be broken but commitments cannot.

And that helped.


And that's kind of what it feels like today because we are officially 100% UNDER CONTRACT on the house!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Sure, last night I may or may not have had a moment of suffocating somewhat paralyzing fear over making a commitment that will last for the next 30 YEARS OF MY LIFE. But then I realized being under contract is like getting engaged. We've promised to love, honor and protect these particular 1380 square feet of Denver above all others. But if something horrible happens in the next month and a half we can get out of it.

If this commitment only brings me 1/10th the satisfaction I experience on a daily basis with the ear doctor I'm gonna be one lucky girl!

Our second attempt at making an offer

Well, our offer to purchase this little beauty is sent and the waiting-on-pins-and-needles has commenced.

These 3 beds, 1 bath, 1380 sq ft built in 1923 might be ours soon...

Cross your fingers, ok?

Giving is better than getting

Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I think I'm getting pretty good at surprising my man.

Last Friday was his 30th birthday! That's right folks, for the last 30 years this world has been a better place because the ear doctor was in it. And if you've followed along the course of this blog you probably know that birthdays are a big deal in our little family.

A big deal.

And what could be bigger than turning 30? Nothing.


So, on Friday morning the ear doctor awoke to a towering mountain of gifts. 30 white boxes tied up with bright green ribbons and black and white twine. Each box topped with a tag numbered 1-30. As every half hour passed he got to open a gift and find a little treat inside.

The biggest surprise came at about 4 pm when he found two boarding passes for a flight to LA that night. Because, more than Wii games, BBQ tools and camping gear, what he wanted for his 30th birthday was to be with his parents.


So, we flew out and spent the most awesome long Labor Day weekend under the California sun. We went on a whale watching cruise (where I successfully avoided succumbing to motion-sickness induced vomiting), toured the Getty for the first time (BTW...it is STUNNING), drove down and checked out the San Diego Zoo, and (of course) hit up the one and only Disneyland.


As we fell asleep in his parents spare bedroom on Friday night he looked over at me with shining eyes and pulled me close. As he held me in his arms he whispered into my hair, "this is my best birthday ever."


My heart was so full the only word that adequately describes is this: JOY

Anyone know a cobbler?

Here's another question for you. How long do you expect a pair of nice heels to last?

I bought these cute expensive heels from Nordstrom in February and now they're totally trashed. The little rubber nub on one heel is totally gone so it clicks with the sound of metal on concrete whenever I walk. There are sparks when I run.

And the finish has totally rubbed off the cute buttons that secure the maryjane strap.

Now I know that, because Nordstrom is awesome, I can take them back and probably get a brand new pair for free. But do you think I'm expecting too much from a shoe? Should they really only last 6 months with a maximum of twice a week wear? Should I just suck it up, send them to the cute shoe graveyard and buy a new pair?

Stoke that flame

Before I got married I heard countless war stories of couples falling out of love. Couples whose relationship had burned hot and heavy and with time dulled down to a small little flame, so easily snuffed out when the winds of adversity blew their way. Stories of pairs who let their familiarity become confused with the ordinary, mundane, banal. Duos who ran out of ways to surprise the other and found the lack of excitement oppressive.

Well, my friends, that hasn't happened for the ear doctor and I. And, hope against hope, it won't ever. He surprises me almost every day with new little awesome things about him.

Take Sunday. We were casually driving from church to check out a few open houses and he pulled out an innocent peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was cut, the correct way, on the diagonal, from corner to corner. I had inserted the sandwich in its protective plastic sleeve with the bottom of the loaf to the bottom of the baggie. He paused, looked up at me and said, "I don't know if you know this about me, but I like to eat the bottom half first."

He then went on to explain that he really loved the chewy top of the loaf the best and so he kept it to the very end so that he could savor it in his last, final, perfect bite.








I thought this was hilarious. To have a preferred way to eat a peanut butter sandwich? Who thinks of these things?

Yup. That's all it takes for me. So maybe the lesson here isn't try to keep the mystery alive so much as teach yourself to be easily entertained?

walk the line

I maintain there are two types of people in this world. Those who follow rules and those who don't. I land squarely in the first camp. And I'm pretty sure I know why.

When I was in 3rd grade I had the bejeezus scared out of me.


Picture this: My cousin who was in first grade and I were waiting outside the front of our elementary school waiting for one of our parents to pick us up. Soon, we got bored. We had to come up with a way to entertain ourselves, right? Well, soon we found ourselves screaming, chasing each other and SPITTING AT EACH OTHER.

Well, the principal saw us and dragged us into her office. There is nothing so scary to the pure unafraid heart of a little third grader than the face of an angry principal. I've been scarred for life and have never since felt the desire to break school or work rules.



...oh, except that time in high school I sneaked out of a hotel in Portland in the middle of the night with my friends while away on a school sponsored trip....

Grow up already

The 10 years I spent in the dating pool taught me a lot about relationships. And the lessons extended beyond the confines of a romantic relationships. I learned that I really value a forgiving heart. I realized how important it was to be around people who help me take life less seriously. I discovered how truly terrible I am at expressing my emotions.

I learned how to start an interesting conversation. I learned how to gage someone else's interest level. I learned how to appropriately offer to pay the tab.

But the one thing I never learned was how to gracefully break up with someone.

I either got dumped (sometimes gracefully...sometimes not) or just stopped calling someone. I never once sat down and told someone that I liked them, I just didn't LIKE LIKE them.

And it's really too bad because in life, I've found, there are tons of times where this skill would come in useful. The ability to tactfully express displeasure....not in my bag of tricks. Put in this situation I find myself jumping from being too blunt to wanting to tell white lies to smooth over the rough edges and keep myself from feeling bad. And I know neither are the right, mature, open thing to do.

So I ask the ear doctor to do it for me.


GAH!


Mental note: husbands are there to lift you up to a higher plane. To stretch you out and help you become a taller, stronger person. They are not, as I've been using mine, a crutch to lean on, thereby developing scoliosis and becoming a withered old hag.

$1.42 down the drain

The biggest difference I experienced when I married the ear doctor came as a total shock. One day I was fine with him leaving, driving all over town, never checking in and the next I wasn't. Suddenly I was concerned about his safety at all times, in all places, and in all things.

After our wedded union I found that the first thought that entered my mind after our apartment door shut behind me was, "will I ever see him again?" or "what will I do if he dies today?" or "is my number his emergency contact in his cell phone...just in case the EMTs need to call me quickly."

Cheery, I know.

And I think it was because I knew that we were in this life together, for the long haul.

Which is probably why as I drove down to Chipotle for lunch today I wasn't really annoyed at the throngs of people slowing the flow of traffic to a pathetic ebb. They were dressed head to toe in pink, walking for courage, walking for strength, walking for people affected by breast cancer. Some were in tutus and most had bright pink energizer bunny ears on their heads. And seeing how happy and motivated these people were made me smile from ear to ear.

Until the portly fellow walking all alone passed by my front bumper carrying a flag that he'd made that read, "in loving memory of my wife."


It gripped me.

Even as I pulled up to the restaurant and stood in line it had me thinking about grief and loss. A bit emotional, I placed my order for my delicious chicken burrito and waited. The young guy in front of me spoke Spanish to the cashier, and, as a result earned himself a free soda.


It was just too much for my little heart to take.

Not only was I terrified and filled with grief at the thought of loosing my ear doctor, but annoyed that if he'd been there to spout off my order in his perfect fluent Spanish I'd be getting my diet coke for FREE today.

Admission

In my experience, getting older means getting more comfortable with who I am and what I like. Even if I am fully aware that my affinity for something is totally dorky. Even if I'm pretty much 100% assured that people will realize that I am the full on nerd that I am by exposing said loves.

And I hope that my hip, awesome blog friends won't think I'm too lame, but I'm here today to share two of my particular adorations that have really shocked the ear doctor in the past couple months.

First? X-men movies.

You read that right...I love em. Every single time one of them is airing on FX or TBS I curl up under a blanket and indulge in my guilty pleasure.

Second? Love-sick power ballads by Chicago. I know, I know, I wish I was hip enough to be able to roll my eyes and the cheesy cliche-ness of their lyrics or utter predictability of their chord progressions, but I just can't. Something about pining for someone to stay the night or declaring that they are my inspiration just really cuts clear to the core of my soul.


So there you have it, two of my totally nerdy, unhip, dorky, never-going-to-make-me elected prom queen loves.


Anyone care to share their own?

Weekend Update

Things I wished had happened this weekend:

1) Found a house I loved

2) Bought the ear doctor a big screen TV with the unexpected check we got in the mail

3) Saw a good movie

4) Taken our dog on an awesome hike

5) Bought a Chi flat iron at Costco for $54

Things that actually happened this weekend:

1) Made my dog wear one of those neck cones because he wouldn't stop licking his poor broken claw

2) Had a great pricey dinner at Happy Sumo instead of going to a movie

3) Continued the arduous task of house hunting

4) Decided to use the unexpected check on the ear doctor's text books for the semester that starts TODAY!

...and last, but not least...

5) This:

Question for the audience

Which did you do first?

Buy a house or have a baby?

Little giveaway

My cousin makes awesome jewelry with glass and she's having a giveaway from her etsy store. And the cool thing is that since she's not a huge blog your odds of winning are really pretty awesome.

She's got pretty stuff!

Come one come all...

It's that time of year again!

My long thick hair that grows like a weed is primed and ready for a cut. I mean, really, how long can an actual living working person make this length of hair work?

I'm at the end of my rope! And it's time for a change. Here's where I need your help. I have 4 different options of short cute haircuts. Take a look and give me your vote!

#1

#2

#3

#4

Attention to detail

Sunday night just as I was laying my tired bones down to bed the ear doctor noticed a strange small red stain about the size of a pea on our carpet.

Huh?

We then looked around the house and noticed that these stains were EVERYWHERE. All through the living room, all down the hallway, all over my beautiful green rug. All OVER!

As luck would have it our little Roscoe dog had a cut on his right front paw and he was gingerly spreading little blood stains all over the house. Gross. We bandaged up his paw the best we could and decided that the clean up job would have to wait until the next day.

We've been wanting to rent one of those steam cleaners for our carpet for months now and the ear doctor declared that Monday would be carpet cleaning day.

So, yesterday afternoon he dutifully went over to the supermarket to see about renting a cleaner. Now, you probably don't know this, but my husband is a little bit fanatical about stains. He treats their removal with mythical faith. Spray 'n wash is his stain removing shaman, Shout his spot bustin swami, and Oxi-clean his grime removal guru. He will try any product under the sun if it promises results. And he FOLLOWS THE INSTRUCTIONS ON THE LABEL.

And since the label on the steam cleaner said it would only remove bio-related stains and not specifically blood stains he decided that he'd clean each blood spot....individually...by hand...while crouching on his hands and knees.

He does nothing half way.

So yesterday my husband spent a few painfully hot and sweaty hours scrubbing about a thousand little spots out of our rental carpet with only a rag and a squirt bottle. Because, well, that's the kind of guy he is.

He's the kind of guy who will do the crap jobs because they've got to get done.



That's the kind of person you want around to help you through this life.

The one?

Could it be? Have we found it?

After walking through about a 60 different houses the ear doctor and I are *this close* to making an offer on this little beauty:

She is so perfectly located, and fits us to a T. I stood out on that front porch in the middle of a rainstorm yesterday afternoon and felt a sense of calm settle over me.

But I'm not about to lie to you and say she's perfect. The kitchen is tiny, there isn't a spec of counter space. The previous owners painted over wallpaper in both living and dining room and "finished" the upper floor with particle board instead of sheet rock. The back yard has weeds up to my shoulders and the only bathroom is on the main floor while the master bedroom is upstairs.

But, just take a look at that window! Lovely!

Work friends

If you've never worked in a large open gray room subdivided by hundreds of cubicles then I'm not sure you're really be able to relate with this post. Just a heads up.

There's a moment in Julie and Julia where she gets her first blog comment and she's so excited she stands up and high fives the woman who works in the neighboring cube.

I loved this moment.

And although I really related to the thrill of getting a new comment from a new reader that isn't what has stuck with me. It's the work friend relationship.


Since moving to this new job that is what I've missed the most. My work friends. I walk down the long hallways thinking of funny things to tell my old work friends or funny pranks to play on them and then I come to the sobering realization that I don't have them anymore.

It's quite a sad thing to loose people who played such a constant role in my daily life.

Blogger to Blogger

We've been pretty fast bloggie friends for, oh, I don't even know how long, so I was really excited with TRS agreed to answer my questions. Need a new and interesting perspective to read? Check out Single Solitary Things!

TRS asked: I’m so impressed with your vow to buy no new clothes all summer (until your birthday money arrived!) That goal is certainly in keeping with your other budgeting skills. Are these mad budgeting skills learned from your parents or has that developed as a part of your marriage? I think it’s a fair assumption that you and the ED created your budget together and agreed to the same goals, any conflicts in spending/saving habits? Related to that question – what is your favorite indulgence? (I’m guessing it has to do with the kitchen.)

Katie answered: My parents never formally taught my sister and I any strict budgeting skills. That being said, there are two financial lessons that my parents instilled in us. The first, we tithe. We donate 10% of all our income to our church...which is how our church builds so many temples, prints so many books of Mormon, response to so many worldwide natural disasters and feeds the homeless/poor. Second...my parents do not use credit cards. I remember when I was about 7 my mom chopped up all their cards and let us put them together like puzzle pieces.

Since getting married the ear doctor and I got serious about item by item, line by line budgeting. We read Dave Ramsey and it established our financial planning/budgeting mindset. I will forever be grateful to the person who gave us his book as a wedding gift. It aligned our thoughts about money before it had a chance to become a wedge between us. Seriously, I think every newlywed should read the book and have an open discussion about money. It's so important to get on the same track with that.

My most frequent indulgence? Probably going out to lunch or buying expensive ingredients at the market (cheese, glorious cheese).

My most desired indulgence? Clothes. Sweet glory I get a slightly unhealthy joy from buying new clothes.

TRS asked: Your career is enviable! From reading you all these years, I sense you are an engineer through and through, down to the activities you enjoyed as a kid. As a person who writes for a living (when someone feels like paying me) I am also envious of your creativity and writing skills. How do you account for being so talented on both sides of your brain?

Katie answered: Well, thanks for the compliment! That's so nice of you!

I think I'd have to credit my parents for that one for getting me in violin lessons. Learning classical music is probably one of the best ways to breed creativity and discipline.

And, well, personally, I don't think that engineering is far at all from any of the other creative activities I enjoy. Without creativity and engineer is reduced to a breathing calculator. Not very handy for making anything new.

TRS asked: You and the ED seem to be so very well matched. Every marriage should be so blessed. So which of the ED’s many wonderful qualities do you love most? Or that you think complements you best/is most unique to your marriage?

Katie answered: You nailed it here. The ear doctor and I are a really great match. When I first met him I was a little blown away by how much we had in common. However, I think it is our differences that really play off each other. He is calm, rational, and deliberate. I can be emotional and kind of random. He is much better at communicating how he feels. I would rather just move on and get over something than talk it out. He is kind of loose with his money and I know where every single penny is.

It's the combination between our strengths and weaknesses that makes it really work.

...and then...

Katie asked: If you could try any other profession in the world for a month, what would you choose?

TRS answered: Wow… that’s such a timely question – as I find myself facing yet another layoff!

Since it’s so hard to find and keep work in my field (Broadcasting/Journalism) I’ve been pondering that quite a bit lately – I really should think about a new career!

If I could afford another college degree, and if I didn’t hate school so much, I’ve thought about going back for Physical Therapy, or Massage Therapy. Those seem like practical choices with which I could help people and feel fulfilled. Considering how much I LOVE my chiropractor – I’ve entertained thoughts of studying that myself. Staying in the creative field, I’d like to start my own photography business. And these days I’m really intrigued by graphics design all the way down to the beautiful art of letterpress.

Your question however suggests a realm of fantasy – maybe something that isn’t as practical, not so attainable. In my younger years I wanted very badly to be a performer of some sort – but I have no musical talent and the fact that I’m not drop-dead gorgeous cut my acting career short. (I scored the comic relief roles in our High School plays – wise cracking maid, that sort of thing.) I’ve always secretly wanted to be an actress… not for fame, but because it seems like such a great way to try on many hats. One acting job might allow me to be a doctor, another – the owner of some darling shop in Seattle or San Francisco – or an FBI agent, a toll booth operator. What a great way to try a little bit of everything!! But I’d have to do it for more than a month I think!

Katie asked: Being a religious person yourself, do you find yourself attracted (not romantically) to other people more when you find out that they are themselves a practicing participant in another faith?

TRS answered: I do find faith intriguing so I am interested in other religions’ view on things. Some people might view it otherwise, but I think I’m pretty open-minded and accepting of everyone. I have two friends who are Atheist and Jewish, respectively. We quickly realized that we are the real-life version of that standard vaudeville joke… “An Atheist, a Catholic and a Jew walk into a bar…” So we call our outings together ‘joke night’. What’s interesting is, every time we get together to catch up, our conversations always land on faith at some point in the evening. We tease one another, we challenge each other and we enlighten one another as well. We are always respectful of the other’s beliefs while expressing our own. We have much more in common than not.

I try to treat everyone that same way – respecting what they believe by learning more about it.
You are right, I am more interested in people of faith than in those who view faith as superstition, who think God is a scapegoat and that the bible is a fairy tale. Not that I dismiss those people, but typically, I just don’t find as much in common with them. My faith defines everything that I know is right and true and meaningful in this world. So it stands to reason that I wouldn’t be able to relate to someone who dismisses faith altogether – or them to me. I recognize that I could do better to work on my evangelism, but I just don’t find that to be my style.

Alternatively, my Atheist friend is intrigued by faith, and has actually studied more about ALL religions than the most schooled Christian. With him, I can have intelligent conversations about faith and discuss the areas where we conflict in opinion. We both learn something, and that’s a beautiful thing.

I feel so sorry for people who weren’t brought up in the faith of God. I think they are really missing out. I’m annoyed most by people who think they are enlightened because they DON’T believe. Dated some of those – and now I only date Catholics!

Katie asked: Do you have anything you've kept from your own childhood that you intend to give to your own children one day? What is it? Why did you keep it?

TRS asked: Ooh, that’s almost a sore spot, because I saved everything – and still no kids at age 39! My sister used to call me a pack rat. I intended to save clothes – special outfits, (my Winnie the Pooh dress printed with the map of Hundred Acre Woods) all my Fisher Price Little People (we had the castle, the parking garage, and the house boat), my Barbies, my Tree Tots Family Tree House! I really think the toys and accessories that I had growing up were the best. High quality… well-made and unique. Those dippy-looking new Fisher Price Little People bug me. I don’t know of anyone who choked on the old ones!

I don’t recalling having any one toy that was extra special to me. I was a sort of utilitarian kid – I’ve always appreciated usefulness. The one thing I always hoped to hand down to my children one day, was my double-sided chalk board easel. It really was wonderful. Height adjustable… two big blue chalkboards (when you’re little that much free space seemed HUGE!), sturdy wood construction sporting two shelves spanning the base of the easel to hold paper, paints, chalk, and all my other art and creative supplies! It came with huge metal clips to attach paper for painting. I loved it! I’m sure my mom would tell you I spent hours and hours before my chalkboards – drawing, painting, and pretending.

Even when I was nine or ten years old, I formulated a plan to pass it down to my kids. (as I always expected to have some) When I outgrew it, my parents put it into storage in one of the outbuildings on our farm. That building has since been torn down – and my older brother (who now runs the farm) is ruthless about getting rid of ‘junk’ - I’ve never dared ask what happened to it.

Bon Appetit

In addition to seeing 500 Days of Summer last weekend, the ear doctor and I caught a showing of Julie and Julia. What can I say...after hours of walking through ugly houses on our house hunting endeavor all we wanted to do was sit in a cool air conditioned room and be entertained.

Here is what I thought of the movie....AWESOME.

There's moment when Julie drops a stuffed chicken on the floor. The stuffing explodes out and she just melts into a ball of hysteria. She just can't take the utter despair associated with the culinary calamity. The same exact thing may or may not have happened to me a few weeks ago when, in mid-flip from cooling rack to presentation plate, my flourless chocolate cake ripped into 5 ugly pieces.

Turns out food induced disappointment has no bottom limit.


At the end of watching the movie I felt so excited, empowered and inspired. I felt that I wanted to really accomplish something in my life...not just fill my time.

And I couldn't think of a grandiose direction to follow or amazing goal to set. So I decided to make Julia Child's ratatouille.

I'd never tried it and Disney has tried it's best to convince me that it is wonderful. But guess what. Do you have any idea how many green peppers are in ratatouille? A ga-zillion. And did you know my most hated and absolutely despised food on planet earth? Yup...those nasty green suckers.

As I chopped...and chopped...and chopped I kept looking at the ominous green pile building higher and higher. Surely there was no way this would taste good, right? No way. And I do not have Julie Powell's blind faith in Julia Child's cooking.

After hours of tedious work I stared down at my plate of colorful tender vegetables. I was dubious at best. But guess what....it was amazing. Somehow the flavors of all those ripe summer vegetables melded into a flavor I slurped up with the glee of a kid eating her birthday cake.


And now I know what my direction will be. Take life as the sum of it's parts. Sure sometimes it may seem like a whole pile of green peppers are headed my way but if I chop them up, let them saute until soft, cover them in onions, tomatoes, eggplant and zucchini, and then let them steep in their own juices it'll all come together in the end.

Either that, or I'll get to the end and it'll totally disappoint me by fracturing into a few ugly unusable pieces.


Hmmmm...maybe I should be careful about using cooking metaphors for life...?

Toot toot

Totally tooting my own horn today, but I make the best scones in the universe. They smell divine:

And you turn you into a crazy ravenous beast once you take your first taste.

I fully expect scones to be the next crazy popular fad confection. Step aside cupcake...move over macaron...here come my SCONES!

And NO I WILL NOT GIVE YOU MY RECIPE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Heartbreak

He randomly came home and told me he didn't want me anymore.


He said that he couldn't stand the way I never said "bless you" after he sneezed and my clumsy habit of not closing the kitchen cabinets had driven a wedge in his heart. He was leaving at there was nothing I could do.

He just sat there.

As the grief induced anger bubbled up from my the depths of my crushed heart the stinging insults flew from my lips. "I never loved you either" was quickly followed by "oh God, please don't let him leave me"


And then I woke up....but the pain was real. The neural chemicals that created such a horrible nightmare had actually been secreted and so I couldn't stop myself. At 6:03 on a Saturday morning I laid in bed, surrounded by the confused yet comforting arms of my husband and sobbed. I gasped with deep, soul raking breaths. I was reminded what true and utter rejection felt like.

And I realized again how much I love my husband. How much I need him. How perfect he is for me.



Thanks a lot Zooey Deschanel ...

On becoming hip to the jive

About a year ago I went to an activity with about 100 8-12 year old girls. I was feeling pretty confident about my ability to relate to their hopes and dreams because, well, I read the whole Twilight series. Conversation would not be a problem.

Then, the karaoke came out and every single little girl knew EVERY word to EVERY song they played...and I hadn't heard a single one?!?! How can that be possible. I actually have a certain talent when it comes to learning song lyrics..and yet? Nothing!

It turned out I was too old to know any Hannah Montana and too young to have my own little girl swept into this pop culture craze.

Have you ever been in this kind of situation? The kind where you are merrily bopping along, thinking that you have a pretty good handle on things, assuming that you've pretty much figured out what's going on around you? You feel decently "hip."

...and then...

...suddenly something happens and you're just dumbfounded to realize how wrong you were?

You've been missing out.



Well, it happened to me AGAIN last night. Have you heard of this awesome Amazon.com ratings/product review phenomenon? Turns out people are posting hilariously awesome product reviews on some items on amazon. They had me laughing so hard that I actually cried and FELL OUT OF MY CHAIR.


Do yourself a favor, click THIS LINK, scroll down to the bottom of the page to the product reviews and enjoy.



It's WAY better than learning the lyrics to Hannah Montana...I promise.

Blogger to Blogger

So, we all know that there are TONS of wedding blogs out there right? Don't they all kind of seem the same? Don't get me wrong...I like looking over pics of a fantastic event as much as the next girl, but a lot of them are missing something. Something real, personal, funny, unique.

Which is exactly why I've been enjoying Mo's blog Pink Argyle so much. She's a real girl planning a real wedding. And she's awesome!

Mo asked: What's the most ridiculous thing you've seen/read in your unfortunate new subscription to Glamour magazine? Visuals would be appreciated.

Katie answered: UGH! I kept waiting and waiting for my next issue to come so that I could answer this for you, but it never did. I guess someone over there at Glamour is reading my blog, got mad at me for not liking Taylor Swift and cancelled my subscription.

Mo asked: We already know about your obsession with the chocolate-covered almonds. Heck, those babies are sitting on our kitchen counter too! But aside from the almonds, what is the absolute BEST thing you have ever eaten?

Katie answered: I've had so many amazing meals in my life. But the thing that makes one item of food stand out over another is usually the circumstance surrounding consumption. For example:

One time I was on a Horizon flight. I was alone, motion sick, cold, hungry, grouchy and pretty much a big ole mess. I didn't think life could get more uncomfortable. Then, the flight attendants started passing out these warm ham sandwiches with spicy mustard on pretzel bread and I thought I was going to die they were so good. A small tear of joy leaked out of the corner of my eye and the gratitude that filled my soul was so rich and sincere that the memory has burned itself on my brain.

Mo asked: Take us through your perfect day, starting with where you wake up.

Katie answered: I wake up in a big fluffy bed with the ear doctor inside a magic mountain cabin. The linens are all crisp white and the long billowing drapes at the window are calmly waving in an alpine breeze. Someone has just pulled a pan of hot, sticky Cinnamon rolls out of the oven and they're finishing frying up some bacon. Sunlight is brightly beaming down through a high window. We spend a few minutes laughing at some funny dream he's had.

Our little dog Roscoe jumps up and puts his paws on the edge of my bed and nuzzles his face in my hand. He is clean and happy because someone else took him out to poop and got him groomed for us.

I get up, eat, and shower and put on the cutest most perfect outfit I've ever owned. It fits perfectly and makes me feel like a million bucks. My hair is magically dried and styled without me having to lift a hair dryer or brush.

Together, we take off. Right outside our cabin door is a path leading up to a lake. The three of us walk up the path were a fantastic lunch spread has been laid out on a blanket. There is Italian meats and olives and cheese and stuffed dates and pecan crusted cookies and diet coke and Italian sodas and piping hot pizza and mini hamburgers and macaroni and cheese and fried chicken. What's more is that anything we think of that is missing magically appears for us to taste. We never get full and carbs and calories don't exist. In this meadow, Roscoe doesn't need a leash because he behaves perfectly...coming when called every time. We sit there in that meadow laughing and eating and hiking around.

As the afternoon wanes we walk back to the cabin. Now the cabin has transformed from a cozy 2 person chalet to a large, expansive retreat. All of our family members are there and most of our friends. We all eat a big catered dinner together and after the meal there is a fantastic talent show. Each person gets up to perform and they are all wonderful entertainers!

As night wears on a band starts to play and we all start dancing out under the stars. It's the happiest night anyone has ever had and we all got to experience it together.

...and then...

Katie asked: What is your favorite book and why? And if you can’t think of one you can give me top 3.

Mo answered: I like being difficult--how about top 2?

We'll start with my favorite book for adults. One of the elements of blogging that I started paying closer attention to is the writer's voice and how authentic it sounds. That's probably one of the main reasons why I'm so in love with A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. Dave Eggers has a smart, unique, funny, and honest voice that makes for great storytelling. I'm also biased because his story is mainly set in the San Francisco Bay Area, particularly Berkeley, which is where I went to school and where most of my family lives.

My favorite children's book is Matilda by Roald Dahl. I still have the copy my mother bought me when I was in the fifth grade, and it has a panda bear bookplate in the front with my name scrawled in purple marker. Some things never change.

What I really like about Matilda is that she's such a strong, incredibly smart heroine. I wished that I was just like her. Another one of my favorites was Harriet the Spy, for the same reason. I wanted to be a writer when I was little, so I decided to keep a journal just like Harriet. Unfortunately when you grow up in rural California, nothing much is going on. "Saw Jack Rabbit. It ran away up the road. Really hot today, my Popsicle melted on my hand."

Whoops, I cheated, that was 3 books wasn't it?


Katie asked: I recently heard a factoid on the radio that the most common inter-racial couple combo is an Asian female and a Caucasian Male. I was surprised and thought it was interesting. As a Chinese-American woman, do you find that interesting? Do you have any perspective on it that you’d like to share?

Mo answered: Ha! Oh Katie. I'll try and answer this question without boring your readers and regurgitating what I learned in Asian American Studies 101.

And as a Chinese-American woman who spent 4 years in a relationship with a Caucasian male, why yes! I do have a perspective on this subject. Let's see, where to begin?

*clears throat*

I went ahead and looked up the census for Boulder, CO, and according to hello boulder (http://www.helloboulder.com/Census.Cfm) only 4% of your population is of Asian descent. Considering that San Francisco alone has a population of 20% Chinese, and that's only Chinese,

This was a pretty hot topic when I went to college (in which the student pop. was 42% Asian), where seeing an Asian female and a Caucasian male was very common. Some students at the University of California, San Diego even made a video titled "Yellow Fever" about why "all the white guys are stealing (their) women": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQFs33fWzxo.

There are countless theories that I heard while dating my ex-bf. None of which I endorse, all of which I found insulting, since I think our relationship was based on love and mutual respect, as opposed to this rubbish.

• Asian women are trying to date/marry "up".
• The majority of Asian women (and women of other races) are not attracted to Asian men. (sorry Asian men!)
• Caucasian men date Asian women because they have an Asian fetish.
• Caucasian men have an Asian fetish because they find them exotic and submissive.

I could probably list some more but this blog post can't go on forever!

But I'll finish up with what I think, almost done, I promise!: every couple is different. Every situation is different. I am different from the Asian girl that grew up in Asia, different from the Asian girl that grew up in Colorado, different from the Asian girl who is living downstairs from me. We are not the same and we come with different experiences and perspectives (same goes for the Caucasian guys,) and it's problematic when generalizations like the above mentioned are made. It's bad enough that no one can tell us apart!

Man Katie, this was a hard question! Is the next one easier?

Katie asked: What do you anticipate being the biggest change with your upcoming marriage?

Mo answered: Ok good, this one is easier to answer.

Hmmmmmmm....I'm not sure much will change! We have lived together for three years, we pay bills together, we take vacations together, and we won't be moving. I'm also not changing my name, so I won't even have to get used to a new one. I imagine the biggest change would be filing for taxes together and referring to him as "my husband" and not "my boyfriend". Weird.

Reason 592

There are many reasons not to leave the garbage disposal running while you are hand washing dishes. This is #592:

I dropped my favorite knife into the sink. It slid into the disposal handle first, meaning the spinning, jumping, deadly blade was sticking straight up into the air. Did I reach over and turn off the disposal? No. I grabbed it.

I willingly offered up as sacrifice the middle finger on my left hand to save my trusty blade.

Since I still have it, I'm pretty sure its a sign from above that I'm supposed to put that finger to good use. Fellow rush-hour commuters...you've been warned!

Poor Daddy Warbucks

I kind of feel sorry for really wealthy people.

When they're in the market for a new house they probably search from house to house saying things like, "well, this carrera marble countertop is 2 or 3 years old...we'll need to change that out" or "I really like this beautiful kidney shaped pool, but really I prefer a more modern perfectly rectangular pool...we'll have to change that."

And they are missing out.

Because they'll never really have the truly soul shaking experiences that the ear doctor and I had this week.

They'll never walk up to a door to be greeted by slightly intoxicated hispanic neighbors who shout wildly inappropriate Spanish cat calls aimed at the ear doctor assuming that he does not fluently speak the language as well as he does.

They'll probably never ring the bell of a gorgeous 100 year old victorian just to be let in by the owner, complaining of gout, and be bowled over by the stench of 10 year old fryer oil. They'll never feel the hot fury over owners who ruin the gorgeous architecture of said victorian by chopping it into strange rooms, covering the windows with newspaper, refusing to clean for at least 30 years and destroying original hardwood floors.

And they'll probably never pull up for a showing at a house in a beautiful historic neighborhood, across from an elementary school only to find it UNLOCKED at left in this condition:

See what they're missing out on by being at the top of the economic food chain?!?!?

PS Don't even ask how the house hunt is going....