tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9856762865786204942024-02-07T03:56:49.204-08:00It's Funny Because It's True.kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-17099364489554514012017-02-16T22:37:00.003-08:002017-02-16T22:45:30.476-08:00Nora for President<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am not a political person. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I know a lot of people think that's kind of a cop-out these days. It's not that I don't have opinions on political matters or decisions - I have opinions, I vote in elections, I somewhat pay attention to what's happening in the world around me (= I mostly listen when my husband spews off bits and pieces of updates on current events and headlines and tweets, at least until my eyes glaze over and I start thinking instead of how delicious an ice cream cake would be right about now......), BUT, I typically refrain from making any big political statements on social media or in public or in private, or, ever. I feel like four years in Berkeley just kind of drained every ounce of any bit of political activism out of me.... there were more than enough other people around me on that campus and in that city who were really good at it and could cause more of a scene than I could ever DREAM of.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This will probably be the first - and only - vaguely political post I'll ever write. So if you're into that, I'm sorry. </span><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">You can return to Facebook or Twitter or just about anywhere else on the internet after you're done reading this and I'm sure you'll get your fill of it. </span><br />
<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Or, if you're like me, and you're not into that, then - you're welcome! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So here's my big statement.... ready?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">You know that "you must be at least 35 years old to run for president" rule? </span><br />
<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I think we need to change it. I think we should change it to only allow presidential candidates under the age of 10. If you're too old to order from the kids' menu, then you're past your prime and too old to run this country responsibly. (...and since we mentioned it, why MUST you be a kid to order from the kids' menu, anyway? who are THEY to decide who can or can't eat a child-sized portion of food? isn't this some form of discrimination? agism? that's a thing, right??...and what if I just really want to color while I'm waiting for my dinner? ....I digress. This post has apparently ignited my long-dormant inner-activist.)</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">How does this make any sense? I'll tell you how. It's very simple.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'm constantly reminded by my six-year-old just how EASY it can be to be a good person. Just a decent human being that knows right from wrong. Kids understand morality at the most basic level and in the simplest terms; it's honestly shocking how we - as a society of so-called "grown-ups" - can screw it up so royally.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Example:</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Over the last few months, I've introduced Nora to the "American Girl" series of books that I read as a kid. If you're not familiar (I feel sorry for you!!), the 'original' American Girls were five 9-10 year-old fictional girls that each grew up in a different era in American history. There was a doll for each girl, and each one had a series of books that told their stories. (Note there are now like a billion American Girl dolls you can buy.... apparently tons of different 'modern' books now... I've completely lost track and choose to just shield Nora from the billion newer dolls and book available... she seems quite content with my hand-me-down doll and books, and these things are freaking expensive.) I had Kirsten, who was a Swedish immigrant living in the midwest in the mid-1800s. We have all six of Kirsten's books, which we read first. I forgot how intense parts of these stories were - and the fact that I read them when I was 10 or 11... after learning at least a little about some of these parts of American history in school - unlike Nora, at 6 years old, who is now scarred for life that Kirsten's best friend Marta dies of cholera on the boat ride to America from Sweden, about 15 pages into the first book. She still asks when Marta's coming back. (At her age, I realize I was already an Oregon Trail veteran and cholera was no big deal - no worse than your entire family dying of dysentery or snake bites.) I also had a couple of books from each of the other girls/dolls. Lately, we've been reading some of Addy's stories - Addy is a former slave living in Philadelphia at the end of the Civil War. Again - some pretty heavy topics come up throughout these books - slavery, racism, discrimination, war - and for Nora, this is really her first introduction to this period in American history. At the very end of each of these fictional books is a section called "A Peek Into the Past" - a few pages about what everyday life was like in America during the times in which the story is set, with actual photos, and historical facts, figures, and events. Nora always wants to read this part and always has a thousand questions. At the end of the most recent book, which is set just after the end of the Civil War, it talked about segregation, 'separate but equal', Jim Crow laws, the Civil Rights movement, and voting rights. Nora was in disbelief. She couldn't get over the idea that people would be treated unfairly (much less enslaved) just because they had a different skin color or looked differently. She said very matter-of-factly and without even thinking: "That doesn't make sense, because - people can't choose what color skin they have, they're just born with it." I don't know if I've ever had a prouder moment as a parent.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When we got to the mention of voting, we talked for a minute about how for a very long time, only white men were allowed to vote. Then after the Civil War, (some) black people were also able to vote, and years later, women were finally allowed to vote. (I understand this gets much more complex, but again, she's six - so had to stick to the key points.) She had the hardest time comprehending how this made sense, and I couldn't decide if I felt heartbroken trying to explain that this was our country's actual history, or if, on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, I felt my heart fill with love and hope for the fact that she, as a first grader, knows at her core that this is not how people should be treated and that there's something inherently wrong with this way of thinking. She knows that human beings are human beings and should be treated with fairness, kindness, and respect. And she, and millions of kids just like her, are our future. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am hopeful. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Oh, and..... disregard the crown in her self-portrait.... she hasn't yet learned that presidents don't get to wear a crown. Or maybe she actually wants to be a monarch.... this may change my outlook a bit.</span>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-28371217693881240062017-02-12T17:23:00.000-08:002017-02-12T17:39:17.167-08:00SUNday.<div class="m_8371224655027784681p1" style="font-size: 12.8px;">
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<span class="m_8371224655027784681s1"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a super-fun/crazy-busy start to the weekend, this was long overdue and a very much welcomed change of pace to cap off the weekend.<span class="m_8371224655027784681Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="m_8371224655027784681s1"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Half-day of work Friday (= attempting to squeeze an eight-hour day into only 4 hours = madness with no potty breaks)...race to get to school by 1:30 to teach an art lesson (how am I remotely qualified for this again? And what possessed me to volunteer for this monthly endeavor? And wh- .....dang, these kids are sweethearts. Nevermind, this is awesome and I love it again).... gather children when school gets out and shuttle them to mom's for sleepover - wait, forgot to bring an endless supply of snacks for after-school munchies - pit stop at Jamba Juice - commence drive to mom's... drop off, get back in car, drive home and get ready for crab feed. Super fun night at crabfeed with some of our favorite people and where does all this wine keep coming from? ...back to our house, with more wine and a late-evening bonfire and tap dancing on the patio (an impromptu one-woman show that absolutely no one requested brought to you by yours truly, because those two shoes have been calling to me lately and, because, wine).... to bed later, MUCH later than a 30-something mother of two should go, to wake up and be out the door at 7:15 to go run four miles with my lovely cousin who was smart enough to get a decent night's sleep... somehow managed to cross the finish line in one piece and even get a decent time... get home, shower, drive to mom's, pick up children, drive home, tell Nora to pick out an outfit that makes her look like a normal human child (what I get for letting the kids pack that overnight suitcase), grab gift to run to classmate's birthday party and arrive right at start time (THANK YOU VERY MUCH! this never happens. Have a quick toast in the parking lot to celebrate. No, scratch that - frowned upon and now we're late. Dammit.) ....birthday fun, school-mom chatting and small talk, pizza (yes please and thank you and can I have seconds? I just remembered I ran four miles this morning and drank fourteen bottles of wine last night and forgot to eat lunch and I am a pizza vacuum.).... home for a brief break, change clothes and make everyone presentable again, grab second round of birthday gifts and head to afore-mentioned lovely cousin's birthday dinner at aunt and uncle's house for more food (....bring it on, I will continue to eat ALL OF IT) and mooooore wine (flashbacks of night before instead point me in the direction of sparkling water.... wise move, Me....). Eat, eat more, eat MOOOORE, sing, laugh, cake, laugh more, chase children, presents, find a way to eat a little more, hugs, car, drive home..... GOODNIGHT.</span></span></div>
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<span class="m_8371224655027784681s1"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">zzzSLEEPzzz</span></span></div>
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<span class="m_8371224655027784681s1"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">zzzzzSLEEPzzzzz</span></span></div>
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<span class="m_8371224655027784681s1"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">zzzzzzzzSLEEPzzzzzzzz</span></span></div>
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<span class="m_8371224655027784681s1"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">....child stealing my phone to watch something on Netflix....</span></span></div>
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<span class="m_8371224655027784681s1"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">....child is hungry. Other child now awake and also hungry. And we're up.</span></span></div>
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<span class="m_8371224655027784681s1"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Laundry, yard work, cleaning, grocery sh--nope, nope, nope: SCREW THAT.</span></span></div>
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<span class="m_8371224655027784681s1"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A late morning breakfast out (okay - brunch... FINE: it should have been lunchtime, but technically, if you've slept in, then taken forever to get out the door, and haven't actually eaten anything yet, it's still breakfast), followed by a lazy park afternoon with a healthy dose of vitamin D after a long stretch of rainy days and the madness of the previous 48 hours, and.......</span></span></div>
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<span class="m_8371224655027784681s1"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ah. Recharge: complete.</span></span></div>
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<span class="m_8371224655027784681s1"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Chaos commencing again in: 5...4...3...2....</span></span></div>
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kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-82724522329948906592017-01-29T20:23:00.000-08:002017-01-29T21:01:41.884-08:00There were never such devoted sisters....<div style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lucie: "Nora, I think you ate a really good dinner."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Nora: "No, YOU ate a really good dinner... you had almost more than ME!" (She didn't. This is an absolute lie.)</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lucie: "But I think YOU ate a really good dinner, because, I LOVE you!"</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">BARF.</span><br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=985676286578620494&pli=1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=985676286578620494&pli=1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's okay, I'm allowed to have that reaction, even as their mom. I promise. In fact, BECAUSE I'm their mom, I get to make that call, and I say, yes, in this case, a "BARF" response is sometimes what's called for.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But, this. This is sister love. Right here. Innocent, unconditional, and, well, always when I least expect it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">These girls are so in love with each other. Like, so much, that it sometimes makes us nearly cringe and gag as their parents. And yet, somehow - in between all this lovey-language and hugging and baby talk to each other - they are screaming and hitting and snatching toys from each other and mortal enemies. Day and night, Jekyl and Hyde, whatever you want to call it.... these little Two-Faces can switch it on and off like nobody's business.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's a sister thing. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I remember this too, with my sister, but as an adult, feel like the petty arguing and fighting over toys or clothes or which game to play or who-hit-who-first make up a very small percentage of the childhood memories I have of the two of us. I do remember, very clearly, lots of make-believe... using our young brains and active imaginations to create our own little worlds - playing "apartments" in our bedrooms upstairs, or "store" - or building houses out of couch cushions or lawn chairs and beach towels - or just running laps around the coffee table listening to Elvis's Blue Hawaii or the Cabbage Patch Kids record. I see echoes of these scenes when I'm called into Nora's room to see an after-breakfast "performance" of Moana (involving a lot of jumping off the bed "into the ocean" and improv songs that are definitely not found on the soundtrack), or see cart-loads of stuff wheeled into the living room for a picnic in the "woods" complete with winter hats and gloves and scarves and various wild stuffed animals. That is, until, Lucie explodes because Nora sang over her part of the finale song, or jumped too soon, or brought TWO picnic blankets out when OBVIOUSLY there's only supposed to be ONE blanket for the picnic, even if this picnic is apparently taking place in the arctic.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I think, as sisters, we made it through adolescence pretty well - not too many actual physical fights (I will not forget the times that I playfully slapped her on the side of the face and ran away - on more than one occasion - just knowing how furious it made her). And, most of our arguments (that I can remember anyway) only centered around me complaining that I wasn't invited or welcomed to hang out with my older sister and friends at the point in your lives when a four-year age difference is most dramatic. I'm left now with what seems like half a lifetime of really great memories with an awesome, (only slightly) older version of myself in many ways, who I consider my very best girlfriend that knows me, understands me, and loves me, more than anyone else.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=985676286578620494&pli=1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=985676286578620494&pli=1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I watch my girls play and hug and fight and wrestle and cry and then hug again, and wish and hope with all my heart that when they're old enough to realize it, they'll be so lucky to see what they really have in each other.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #134f5c;">.....</span><span style="color: #134f5c;">Okay, now it's your turn - don't worry, I'll allow it. I deserve it: </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">BAAARRRRRFFF.</span></span><br />
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kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-90241005565206242422017-01-20T21:39:00.000-08:002017-01-20T21:39:14.853-08:00Dinner Party<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's been a long short week.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Work has been busy, busy enough to be stressful - trying to find enough minutes in the day to actually get everything done while still remembering to go to the bathroom and eat and keep a bit of my sanity. These days and weeks come every so often and without warning.... when everything seems to hit all at once and create a crazy whirlwind of a thousand things coming in from every direction that can instantly paralyze me like a giant jellyfish if I'm not careful. Sometimes it's on a Friday, when I least expect it, and am ready for a peaceful end to the week to ease into the weekend. Like today.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">At the end of one of these days and weeks, I want nothing more than to come home and just completely zone out - which is impossible when there are two little hungry monsters waiting for me and the first question I get walking in the door is "WHAT'S FOR DINNER, MOMMMMM???"</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And the day continues.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I enjoy cooking. I don't claim to be great at it, or even good at it. I'm mediocre, really. I am capable of cooking food. Fact. But most of the time, I really do enjoy it and can occasionally come up with something that actually turns out to be delicious. This is dependent on a number of variables. One of the most crucial being the percentage of my attention I'm able to devote to the task at hand - which, when the afore-mentioned hungry monsters are present and circling - decreases significantly. Kids in the kitchen used to really stress me out. Don't get me wrong, I adore my children - even being the monsters they are - but when you're responsible for making a full meal of food for four human beings, involving heat and fire and sharp knives, and trying to accomplish all of this in a timely manner so such a meal can be eaten sometime prior to bedtime (which is already way too late for these kids, but that's another story), their presence can really make cooking dinner feel an awful lot like an absolutely terrible reality show that's some combination of Hell's Kitchen and American Ninja Warrior.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But, it's hard to turn down an offer from a six-year-old to PLEASE help you make the salad (when your lazy butt wasn't even planning to make a salad in the first place, but thanks for the nutritional reminder and subsequent guilt trip, Daughter) when she's already trying to be super helpful and pulling all of the ingredients out of the refrigerator. So, I give in and agree to let her help, and by some Disney kind of magic, it turns into a cooking party with me making pasta and Nora making salad and Lucie running laps around us singing indecipherable songs, and before I know it, dinner's ready.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And I remember that sometimes the best way to let go of a stressful day is to just give in and let your kids melt it away. It turns out they're actually pretty good at that.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh.... and a glass of bourbon is also helpful. Or so I'm told.</span><br />
<br />kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-43165302942738250922017-01-17T23:24:00.000-08:002017-01-17T23:24:32.620-08:00Blog Black Holes<div class="m_-7794530752439988105p1" style="font-size: 12.8px;">
<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Heeeeyyyyyyyyy there, strangers!</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Look at me, I'm back!<span class="m_-7794530752439988105Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's been a while. Quite a while. There's apparently this blog-internet-black hole thing that I just, one day, fell into, about.... HOLY HELL, FIVE YEARS AGO?!? (Side note - did you know you can just go find your long-neglected blog on blogspot five years later and it's still just sitting there, still active, waiting for you, like a sad abandoned puppy? You can!!)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Well. In that case: there's a quick recap needed here before we get back into the real, hard-hitting funny-because-they're-truths of everyday life. Not to make it all about me, but..... well, let's be honest: this is my blog and it's pretty much always been all about me, and you must care at least a teeny tiny bit, or you wouldn't be here. Or, maybe you're visiting for the first time and have no idea what you've stepped into. (Hint: it smells. You should probably go wash your shoes off and come back in a bit if you're brave enough and don't already hate this.)</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ready? Here's what's been going on in my universe over the last, give or take, 1,825 days, in a nutshell:</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Had a baby.<span class="m_-7794530752439988105Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She's now no longer a baby. She's now a three-year-old monster, who can be obnoxiously adorable at least some of the time.<span class="m_-7794530752439988105Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Meet Lucie.</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Found a big kid.</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My first baby somehow transformed into a now six-and-a-half-year-old in first grade who knows every word to every Taylor Swift song ever recorded and who I sometimes fear is better at math than I am.</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Meet Nora. (She's like baby Nora, only a bigger, smarter, more expensive model. Kids are a lot like iPhones.)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2XB2cAXWZl8f0xCaSUnheO13oC0MsTsRen3pVk7dTFYNR7rPe36k239bhCbrJ77Ad0MvRqn1F35iJLX056nbOAmKRz2-r9911faP_CagTaec_FkU7Tec-nKY4PuBfSwVGFoMH55MdPo/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2XB2cAXWZl8f0xCaSUnheO13oC0MsTsRen3pVk7dTFYNR7rPe36k239bhCbrJ77Ad0MvRqn1F35iJLX056nbOAmKRz2-r9911faP_CagTaec_FkU7Tec-nKY4PuBfSwVGFoMH55MdPo/s200/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" width="150" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Went to Disneyland... three times.<span class="m_-7794530752439988105Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">(That helps answer my question about where all our "savings" have gone over the last five years.)</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lost a good chunk of family.</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Said goodbye with very heavy hearts to my father-in-law, mother-in-law, and grandmother, among other family and friends along the way. The last couple years have taken some of the very best from us and I know that there's now gotta be a rager of a party going on beyond those pearly gates.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Started a new job.</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's now been nearly two years since I bid farewell to my federal job and took up SBA lending for a bank. The absolute last industry I ever thought I'd find myself in, and loving it more every day.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lost our dog.<span class="m_-7794530752439988105Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Unexpectedly and very quickly.... his a-hole-ness finally caught up with him, and though he was an a-hole for most of his doggy life, he was our fluffy little a-hole and we miss him everyday.<span class="m_-7794530752439988105Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Long live the mighty Dundster-Meister.</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Gained a cat.<span class="m_-7794530752439988105Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A trip to the store for a fishtank lightbulb somehow resulted in cat ownership. I'm told this happens. Apparently only in our house.<span class="m_-7794530752439988105Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Meet Lily Lightbulb.</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Gained an almost-sister-in-law.</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My brother finally proposed to his girlfriend of many years and later this year, there will be a new Kim Carruthers in this world... she'll be almost as good as the original (except probably way better...like Nora, she's also better at math than I).</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And am now the wife of a prolific baseball podcaster.<span class="m_-7794530752439988105Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1">He claims I'm only re-starting this blog because I'm jealous of his stardom. Yes, dear. That's exactly it. I, personally, am offended I've never been invited on as a guest. I'm the second most knowledgeable person about baseball in this house. (do cats count? nevermind.) So, if you like baseball and especially enjoy podcasts where there is muffled yelling from children (or me yelling at children) in the background, then you should most definitely check this out: </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://www.stitcher.com/podcast/nick-seevers/baseball-by-dummies&source=gmail&ust=1484808393128000&usg=AFQjCNGCWKJ0SlvryWvSHh8jpUAaqDXl6g" href="http://www.stitcher.com/podcast/nick-seevers/baseball-by-dummies" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">http://www.stitcher.com/<wbr></wbr>podcast/nick-seevers/baseball-<wbr></wbr>by-dummies</a><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.8px;">(YOU'RE WELCOME FOR THE 8 BILLION NEW SUBSCRIBERS...... now can I please come on as a guest???)</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Gained a VitaMix.</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I saved this for last because it's clearly the most important and exciting and life-changing. I've wanted this since I was 12.</span></div>
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<span class="m_-7794530752439988105s1" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #134f5c; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So now we're all caught up. I promise it won't be another five freaking years before you hear from me again. I just talked with my State Farm agent (thanks, Keng!) and got internet-blog-black hole insurance. So we're good.<span class="m_-7794530752439988105Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-57681778649777220822011-11-15T23:51:00.000-08:002011-11-15T23:51:17.269-08:00Why I've Been MIA for the Past Billion Days<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well, at least it's felt like a billion days. Maybe not quite that many.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I realize I have been extremely negligent lately with this poor excuse for a blog, and I intend to do much better starting next week. This weekend is the annual Plumgrove Boutique - 32nd annual, in fact - and I've been in ultra-Martha-Stewart-crazy-obsessive-crafting mode for the past several weeks getting ready for it. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>****Shameless Plug Alert****</b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Come check out some of my stuff!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><b>The 32nd Annual Plumgrove Boutique is this Friday and Saturday, Nov. 18th & 19th. Check out more of the details including times and address at <a href="http://www.facebook.com/Plumgrove">facebook.com/Plumgrove</a>!</b></i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here are a few sneak peeks...</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQbTAaGJOoAWAV0XYq4Jh2sWFg58rKQaVw72C0opC-KzlDhBthN-1mm81GYe-1fRI7Ql_2i0DK0ltxV9OzRFbn1A2APCDBZyf3dWsLJDIeJ0U4d_V0zHxLfj9X-ECXSg3xDV2wa7GwAPQ/s1600/pic+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQbTAaGJOoAWAV0XYq4Jh2sWFg58rKQaVw72C0opC-KzlDhBthN-1mm81GYe-1fRI7Ql_2i0DK0ltxV9OzRFbn1A2APCDBZyf3dWsLJDIeJ0U4d_V0zHxLfj9X-ECXSg3xDV2wa7GwAPQ/s320/pic+002.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP3y-6SGiofpm10UCDqdkAJ6R2nM80qJ10BnyJLGE3IsKLMebTYoZaT32WH75tG3lmF-_89SsqoHxsRVsIClJ2tRnY_dSi70yVdQR9CTNHCXuX3uxqtpB9O88KDZRg4PF6ZTpupAYHx08/s1600/pic+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP3y-6SGiofpm10UCDqdkAJ6R2nM80qJ10BnyJLGE3IsKLMebTYoZaT32WH75tG3lmF-_89SsqoHxsRVsIClJ2tRnY_dSi70yVdQR9CTNHCXuX3uxqtpB9O88KDZRg4PF6ZTpupAYHx08/s320/pic+005.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Hope to see you there!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">...and if you can't make it this weekend, you WILL see more of my blog after this weekend. I promise.</span>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-17619346638981859442011-10-28T22:06:00.000-07:002011-10-28T22:06:47.014-07:00Frugal Fright-day: Tip #13<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In this week's </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Halloween</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> edition of </span><br />
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">A Cheapskate's Guide to Frugal Living...</span></b></i><br />
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<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tip #13: To save money on Halloween costumes, work with what you've got.</span></b></i><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This tip is brought to you by Nora... just look at the great, original, creative, one-of-a-kind costumes you can whip up just by gathering things from around the house and tying them onto your body. Who cares that no one will have any idea what you're supposed to actually be... or that to most people, you will probably just appear to be homeless and less than sane... Just think of all those times you've shown up to a Halloween party wearing a sexy cat costume that you went out and spent thirty bucks on just to run into five other people wearing the same thing - you will never again have that problem (and you'll also save a good chunk of change) by adopting one of these soon-to-be classics:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOugNDxTrDNyL33wg7CPRz7PkzUcYazc0mzQrBMkNdMRD6JHI-FfgoJxKQnVBeRpTGXA8hg90O1jyWEnk0Nad3FfwrFsWoNtKIpCIjdPCBmT2VnNlcfhZuc8BP7q9kpm3Xj5lsbkw3XyI/s1600/327311_2608997705956_1285377708_33108843_860399122_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOugNDxTrDNyL33wg7CPRz7PkzUcYazc0mzQrBMkNdMRD6JHI-FfgoJxKQnVBeRpTGXA8hg90O1jyWEnk0Nad3FfwrFsWoNtKIpCIjdPCBmT2VnNlcfhZuc8BP7q9kpm3Xj5lsbkw3XyI/s320/327311_2608997705956_1285377708_33108843_860399122_o.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nora Socky-Hands (this, by the way, is "Beach" version - sunglasses and shirt are optional.)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKJasAjs9PfKoVWJl_nLvyPkMAgxW87qzE2n1F8awlOL_OlSVlkv2JjIn5mF7O94DhCV_W8nkvLMQWe213c3OXcl8z8dUEtp4wcjzxsAkVQ3wnU4iVjj_C2RUm3VZjnbxgggNK1wEVXTQ/s1600/pic+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKJasAjs9PfKoVWJl_nLvyPkMAgxW87qzE2n1F8awlOL_OlSVlkv2JjIn5mF7O94DhCV_W8nkvLMQWe213c3OXcl8z8dUEtp4wcjzxsAkVQ3wnU4iVjj_C2RUm3VZjnbxgggNK1wEVXTQ/s320/pic+008.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Flying-Nora-Nun</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_BeC4A4OqkMBi5kn2Eb4cXxZuzWGDmtRY0uRzmzxkcjjT0dOr76f7cZLs6vt6N06-s5KBmD_w4OPMVGndYtma6oXRnteDKmeSz-kMzoe2GQtW5wxpOwr4-SjMsGEkWjPJ2WT3gmFn9M/s1600/pic+009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT_BeC4A4OqkMBi5kn2Eb4cXxZuzWGDmtRY0uRzmzxkcjjT0dOr76f7cZLs6vt6N06-s5KBmD_w4OPMVGndYtma6oXRnteDKmeSz-kMzoe2GQtW5wxpOwr4-SjMsGEkWjPJ2WT3gmFn9M/s320/pic+009.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Superwoman: Kitchen Edition </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(...gestures are important with this one - be sure to point and keep a serious face... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"I want YOU to do the dishes. I'll dry.")</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpiHIMEbtiXf_T80yiMW7pziSqkD5HwBQ3kVV3jBcPo-zoVi4_rNr3cQM6RwBfogbo7LeeyX4_GRpyRjhcfrurbv9S9Tip-V4NuiqAOmIwKluyRYeCkhnkYahyphenhyphen2x8uNWwrHqyY-zNz5E/s1600/pic+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpiHIMEbtiXf_T80yiMW7pziSqkD5HwBQ3kVV3jBcPo-zoVi4_rNr3cQM6RwBfogbo7LeeyX4_GRpyRjhcfrurbv9S9Tip-V4NuiqAOmIwKluyRYeCkhnkYahyphenhyphen2x8uNWwrHqyY-zNz5E/s320/pic+010.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Clothespin Monster - what could be scarier than clothespins?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-40285918101317971772011-09-27T22:53:00.000-07:002011-09-27T22:53:30.099-07:00Glorious Pens<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So I realize I haven't mentioned much about my new job since I've started nearly two months ago. All I will say is that it's government-related. Partly because I don't actually know how much I should say on a blog like this, and partly because I like the suspicion and intrigue that will ensue after vague comments like that. (<i>...and partly because, well frankly, there's not much to mention.</i>)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">However, I will tell you that every so often I'm reminded of some specific TV representations of government offices...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Like one day this week, when I overheard one person barter with another co-worker to exchange a much-needed highlighter for a pen refill... all I could think of was <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1001579/">the 30 Rock episode where Jack takes a position with Homeland Security and spends some time in DC with guest star Matthew Broderick:</a></span><br />
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</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8FUIFwf3XatjfIh-dCl_c3MEcTsJBSukDMdQmJzzzLYlKUKFAB332XIYSaqFMWA4XdF7Xg-tTm5F6hUoUU_UMgBB34f7VoA8fKqp1yRq3ghTHdZp4IDPX_xiUfJpHZkketssYXQW8U0/s1600/364975.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8FUIFwf3XatjfIh-dCl_c3MEcTsJBSukDMdQmJzzzLYlKUKFAB332XIYSaqFMWA4XdF7Xg-tTm5F6hUoUU_UMgBB34f7VoA8fKqp1yRq3ghTHdZp4IDPX_xiUfJpHZkketssYXQW8U0/s320/364975.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><b><i><u><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier; font-size: 10pt;">Jack Donaghy:</span></u></i></b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></i></span><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier; font-size: 10pt;">Cooter, look at this place. This can't be what you want in life. Haven't you ever thought about leaving?<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier; font-size: 10pt;"><span class="apple-style-span"><b><i><u><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier; font-size: 10pt;">Cooter:</span></u></i></b></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></i></span><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier; font-size: 10pt;">Of course. Every day. Every day for two years. Look at these resignation letters...they're written in ketchup, dirty rock, leak water... But now you're here. You're here and everything's gonna be better. Now we've got pens. Glorious pens! </span></i></span></span></i></span></div></div><div></div><div style="font-family: arial;"></div><div style="font-family: arial;"></div><div style="font-family: arial;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: arial;"></div>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-22250250669334372122011-09-26T22:10:00.000-07:002011-09-26T22:10:22.996-07:00Manic Monday<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Today I woke up at 6:25.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I usually wake up around 5:45 and leave my house by 6:35. It was a very Manic Monday kind of morning. (And no, I wasn't in the middle of a dream, kissing Valentino near a crystal-blue Italian stream.)</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So around mid-day when I finally started to wake up and started thinking about what I <i>didn't</i> feel like making for dinner tonight, I made the executive decision that we'd use our 'free steak dinner' coupon we recently got in the mail and go to Outback for dinner. After several months of severely trimming down our budget, we had kind of forgotten how nice it was to dine out once in a while (don't read that wrong... I don't by any means consider Outback Steakhouse 'fine dining', but at the rate we've been going we pretty much consider Taco Bell a fun and fancy treat). It was a relaxing and mess-free finish (well, maybe not for the waitress and busboy at Outback) to an otherwise crazy start to the week.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And now, here's what Nora's been up to lately:</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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</span>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-80610818060651738522011-09-23T08:52:00.000-07:002011-09-23T08:52:10.181-07:00Frugal Friday: Tip #61<div><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">In this week's edition of <strong><em><span style="color: #e69138;">A Cheapskate's Guide to Frugal Living...</span></em></strong></span></div><div><br />
</div><div><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><strong>Tip #61: Cut your own (or better yet, your spouse's) hair.</strong></em></span></div><div><br />
</div><div><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">A trip to the hairdresser can cost you a pretty penny these days. Why not grab some scissors and try your own hand at barber-shoppery? Well I did, and while I myself wasn't willing to be the guinea pig for my first haircut, my adventurous (<em>or apathetic</em>) husband was.</span></div><div><br />
</div><div><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Here's how it went:</span></div><div><br />
</div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Nick: I really need a haircut.</em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Me: I'll do it for you.</em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Nick: Ok.</em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Me: REALLY? Ok.</em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(the next morning... Saturday morning, aka College Football day, mind you...)</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Nick</em> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(as I begin cutting):</span> <em>You have no idea what you're doing, do you.....?</em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Me: No, not really, I've never done this before.</em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(snip snip snip)</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Nick: Are you done yet? This is taking forever.</em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Me: It's been like 5 minutes. I said I've never done this before. Chill out.</em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(snip snip snip)</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Nick: This is taking forever. </em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Are you done yet? </em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Are you cutting all my hair off? </em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>You'll never make any money doing this.</em></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><em>Me: I said chill out... is this how you talk to the hairdresser when you go out to get your hair cut?</em></span></div><div><br />
</div><div><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">...and after only 1 hour (<em>3, if you ask Nick, but he's known to be a liar about these things</em>), voila! A beautiful haircut with only a few little patchy spots that you could easily argue are *stylistic choices* or *artistic flair* or my personal reasoning, *one of those neat haircuts when people get designs shaved into the sides of their head.*</span><br />
</div><div></div><div><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It's only been a couple weeks, and it's filled in quite nicely and could almost pass as a real haircut. Another skill to add to the resume.</span></div>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-43969859366221149722011-09-16T21:40:00.000-07:002011-09-16T21:40:38.427-07:00Introducing... Frugal Friday: A Cheapskate's Guide to Frugal Living<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So guess what? I've decided to make a new addition to my blog. Every Friday (and maybe a few days in between), I will be posting new tips as part of a series I'm calling <b><i>"Frugal Friday: A Cheapskate's Guide to Frugal Living."</i></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><u>I will include this disclaimer only once:</u></b> this is not to be taken seriously. If you've ever read this blog before, you'll realize that my musings are at most (or all) times sarcastic, ill-informed, cynical, and/or ridiculous (or all of the above). However, although these tips are not intended to be taken seriously, you have every right to implement them at your discretion. I won't tell. Or judge. After all, I'm the one who writes this nonsense.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I will also, on occasion, share some useful information with you mentioning any great deals I may find, so you, too, may share in the glory of living like a cheapskate. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And one more disclaimer, or rather, an addendum to the first disclaimer: these tips are gathered from ideas that pop into my head throughout the day under various circumstances, therefore they are brought to you in no particular order and without much filtering.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So now, without further ado:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i>Tip #104: Save money on bathroom supplies by saving your dirty business for the workplace.</i></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tired of buying ginormous packages of toilet paper and literally flushing your hard-earned money down the drain? Cut your toilet paper budget in half (or more!) by only going #2 at work. Think of how much more toilet paper is used by #2 versus #1... why not secretly shift that expense to your office supply budget? And who will know? And even if they were to somehow find out, who would approach you or discipline you for such an act? Don't worry - the awkwardness or embarrassment of that situation on their end will totally outweigh the awkardness and embarassment on your end as you stink up the employee restroom each morning. What about weekends, you may ask? Well I come back with, how important is saving money to you? Surely you can endure a couple of short days of discomfort if it means only having to buy that small 4-roll package of toilet paper at the 99 Cent Store rather than the 36-roll mega pack at Costco on your next shopping trip. And another budget bonus: you'll save money on air fresheners as well.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">...aren't you just <i><b>so excited</b></i> to find out what other awesome penny-pinching tips may be in store for you?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You're welcome.</span></div><div style="font-family: arial;"> </div>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-20619427434770951322011-09-09T22:29:00.000-07:002011-09-09T22:29:17.086-07:00Football & Funerals<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That's what our week and upcoming weekend hold for us.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Last week we lost a very dear family friend of ours, Shari Delgado. It was sudden and mostly unexpected, and it hit our close-knit group of family friends pretty hard. Shari battled both diabetes and Multiple Schlerosis for many years, and also experienced several seizures in the recent past - she definitely did not have an easy life, and missed out on a lot of things that a healthy 36-year-old would normally be blessed with. But, you would never know it by talking to her. Shari undoubtedly will always be one of the most inspirational people I have ever known - she had every reason to feel sorry for herself, yet she never, EVER did. Many people in her situation would have grown bitter, angry, resentful, or depressed at best... but not Shari. Shari was probably the most cheerful person I've ever met in my life, always smiling, always thinking about everyone else before herself. And that's how we'll always remember her. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpR-ztk8TreOMBp00UepPZlc6s_9Fe46opRBJxS3A9ahG6Th9Lj7NV5YegegbmYckOS6uhjPXozLpwBju2SBybPByxk3oqJegc5q2aScOAdj-QczShKyHqvhL4aqHtKjhyphenhyphenEEDeH2klAA/s1600/317432250_dsc_3719.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpR-ztk8TreOMBp00UepPZlc6s_9Fe46opRBJxS3A9ahG6Th9Lj7NV5YegegbmYckOS6uhjPXozLpwBju2SBybPByxk3oqJegc5q2aScOAdj-QczShKyHqvhL4aqHtKjhyphenhyphenEEDeH2klAA/s320/317432250_dsc_3719.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTmomzLmiMSFeutqTInYkCJaGkBLJeIUJl2CqqHZYwYlv4aOuJe6dCKWVJtO9QyOcg-D_ioC22QJ4b7ysum_U1AqA8lpew-tn8_EHfn01PjjtRCa8HFMyRFaeKCN3CuMKhu6tTp1UIJ0/s1600/IMG_0071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTmomzLmiMSFeutqTInYkCJaGkBLJeIUJl2CqqHZYwYlv4aOuJe6dCKWVJtO9QyOcg-D_ioC22QJ4b7ysum_U1AqA8lpew-tn8_EHfn01PjjtRCa8HFMyRFaeKCN3CuMKhu6tTp1UIJ0/s320/IMG_0071.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tomorrow Shari's family and friends are celebrating her life with a reception honoring her memory. I was asked to sing as part of the celebration, and was hesitant at first, for fear that it would be too emotional and too difficult. But that feeling only lasted a brief moment until I realized how much Shari would have enjoyed it and appreciated it... and if she lived day in and day out and dealt with everything life threw at her, I could handle singing one song in her honor.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This week has also been a busy one for Nick's football schedule, as he'll be a referee for games three days this week (pretty much the most you can do in a week... another good sign that he's doing pretty well with it). After each game, he comes home and tells me that it's hands-down the most fun he's ever had making money. I'm really happy that he's found a side-job that he really loves, and so far I really haven't minded the nights that he's away, since most nights I'm able to see my Oma after work since she watches Nora for us on those days anyway. The loss of Shari has again reminded me that we all only have so much time in our lives to spend with those that we love, and I remind myself of this each time I go to Oma's house. We have dinner together, talk, and laugh at Nora as she runs around the house with tupperware and fresh-picked cherry tomatoes from the garden while she dances to polka music. Tonight will be the third night this week that I'll be over there, and I wouldn't miss it for the world.</span>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-89066799799307076722011-09-03T11:56:00.000-07:002011-09-03T11:56:40.338-07:00A Lesson in Gardening<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For those of you wanting to try your hand at gardening, specifically growing a vegetable garden, here's a brief lesson.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Grow stuff like this:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZfvaDhxFZ2EkOen-u8N63uFVMig3d8876Etg0zEvCxLnM35Ab-4-4GNhE6rGmYxBI-WrV-95jZNHqq7VkC-yAigW1Vcxv1f3F58_slO3Bnn10rywp2oEmG6Ws_vpBJbZML2wRb3bNqi4/s1600/pic+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZfvaDhxFZ2EkOen-u8N63uFVMig3d8876Etg0zEvCxLnM35Ab-4-4GNhE6rGmYxBI-WrV-95jZNHqq7VkC-yAigW1Vcxv1f3F58_slO3Bnn10rywp2oEmG6Ws_vpBJbZML2wRb3bNqi4/s320/pic+001.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">that's a cucumber.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Not like this:</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RWM3VwJ5Ubq4JnLt9h9Xt53YwH0ilKhKSZTKKuTRFJyHWYUH4WQS2NgJCPcA6k9PzFpy6G5n3sSVUk-YsqPrL4TJK4gAGqTvaZ0DC5-EJ6NEZJqrCpy3dTeENA5ASl1ABtbGwsrOG3Q/s1600/pic+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3RWM3VwJ5Ubq4JnLt9h9Xt53YwH0ilKhKSZTKKuTRFJyHWYUH4WQS2NgJCPcA6k9PzFpy6G5n3sSVUk-YsqPrL4TJK4gAGqTvaZ0DC5-EJ6NEZJqrCpy3dTeENA5ASl1ABtbGwsrOG3Q/s320/pic+002.jpg" width="285" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">that's a pepper. supposedly.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For a more in-depth lesson, you should probably ask my Oma. I'm clearly not an expert.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I do have a vegetable garden... it's just not what you would call 'productive.' If you're looking for beautiful, huge, delicious cucumbers, bell peppers, tomatoes, and an assortment of other fresh home-grown vegetables, you should go see Oma. However, if you're in the market for miniature jalapeno peppers, you've come to the right place. But you better hurry, we sell out quick here. Probably because there is only 1 pepper.</span>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-1029252791910311862011-08-31T13:13:00.000-07:002011-08-31T16:57:39.722-07:00Mmmmmm Autumn...<div id=":7y"><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj16u21z_kVuPcD76RMXRlIEOarfo53qIQZWAY4wRFxOnOwYs3Pd8Db3NVYFpIiAHWXeERllKZ4X27_XyZeZDzQmowBzK8EwilcAL5syq9ITs31qiQjjL5J0ffpfqjIhwf3N3LxDp56t4/s1600/Autumn_harvest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj16u21z_kVuPcD76RMXRlIEOarfo53qIQZWAY4wRFxOnOwYs3Pd8Db3NVYFpIiAHWXeERllKZ4X27_XyZeZDzQmowBzK8EwilcAL5syq9ITs31qiQjjL5J0ffpfqjIhwf3N3LxDp56t4/s320/Autumn_harvest.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Autumn, or Fall, is my favorite season. There are several reasons for this, but I think they all boil down to the same reason: it is the prelude to the Christmas season. I L-O-V-E Christmas-time. Like... really. I'm a little nuts. I've always been that way, and so has my sister - anytime we catch a hint of wood-burning-fireplace-smoke-<wbr></wbr>scent in the air: "It's Christmas-time... start a fire, open presents." If there is an unseasonally cool day: "It's Christmas-time... start a fire, open presents." I can't even count how many inappropriate times I recite this phrase throughout the year.</span></div><div></div><div><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But, of course, before the Christmas season, we have Fall - and I think this anticipation building up to the beginning of winter and the holiday season is what makes Fall so much fun. The leaves changing color, the days gradually getting shorter, the weather getting a little cooler and a little crisper... it all adds to the fun. And now that I've returned to work, it feels as if I've been on summer vacation these past few months and am now returning for a new school year, and in my mind, that equates to Fall. Forget the fact that it's still nearing 100 degree in Sacramento this week, or that we're still swimming and using the air conditioner, or that it's still August (at least for today). No: it's Fall.</span></div><div></div><div><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Which means gathering ideas and starting craft projects for the annual Plumgrove Boutique (don't worry, there will be MANY more plugs for this before November 18th), pulling out the harvest-themed placemats and table runner, and plugging in the 'Harvest Apple' wallflowers air freshener refill. Mmmmm.... I can already taste the apple cider at Apple Hill, feel the warmth of the fireplace, and hear the Christmas music (...or is that last one coming from my iPod right now?). Tis the season.</span></div></div>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-18832749527587825442011-08-24T18:23:00.000-07:002011-08-24T18:23:45.351-07:00Bring it, Kohl's.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Today I went to Kohl's.</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqJNzSbayuhnKq9ZP-2afD_K83xl2ecIXasO1iKq_YPnnxuzCxnUU-HTaps3g2DNz-qHFeCsb0jP7SYgKR4QOxTbGTepFBr3YgFDO_6GjaQsM7g1CImAwwOISvBiFVbSCP1GCk9Ful3hA/s1600/pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqJNzSbayuhnKq9ZP-2afD_K83xl2ecIXasO1iKq_YPnnxuzCxnUU-HTaps3g2DNz-qHFeCsb0jP7SYgKR4QOxTbGTepFBr3YgFDO_6GjaQsM7g1CImAwwOISvBiFVbSCP1GCk9Ful3hA/s320/pic.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yes, that's right... look again. I spent 43 cents. Have I mentioned before that I love a good deal?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nick has recently begun referee-ing (that's a thing, right?) for youth football - pop warner leagues all the way up to high school varsity football. It's something he's been wanting to do for a few years now because he is <strike>a football fan</strike> beyond obsessed with the sport, and had always thought that if he had the time he'd like to try it. He's enjoying it so far and it's also looking like it will be a nice little side job for some extra cash. And he's apparently pretty good, since he told me yesterday that he's already so highly rated that he's the only first-year official assigned to a varsity game (which is how you know if you're good or not... the crappy refs apparently get stuck with the 7 year-olds that don't have any idea what's going on). </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So, he needed a few black t-shirts to wear under his uniform, and he had gotten $10 in 'Kohl's cash' recently when he bought a pair of shoes for the uniform... I then stopped into Kohl's after work today armed with the afore-mentioned Kohl's cash (which is basically a free $10 to spend on anything in the store) and promptly found three black t-shirts on clearance. I paid 43 cents for three t-shirts and thoroughly impressed the snaggle-toothed cashier (who looked like she could've been 17 or 58). I totally see the logic behind this 'Kohl's cash' - they clearly want it to entice you to go into the store and spend more than $10 so they are still bringing in revenue, possibly from customers that wouldn't normally shop there, and creating a loyal returning customer out of you. Na-ah, Kohl's - not me. I will take all of your free coupons and Kohl's cash and whatever other promotional free stuff you want to give me and leave with a bag full of stuff without paying much more than a few pennies. You may still be taking my money, but I promise it will only be 43 cents at a time. Game on.</span>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-77290331762416956852011-08-18T18:11:00.000-07:002011-08-18T18:11:00.567-07:00Don't you wish you were married to me?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I don't think I've mentioned recently that I love my husband. So: I love my husband. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtQ3HSwGSnJLPvkMrmZVrJ21H4yriGwlLEuZQeYVz3CMDujl045c2BRwpQEP18PXd8oo4nr-Ny-mH8X-Uvq8KsOXt3PXNn8XM8N8L_3vmF8M3V3dNrZOZw2_q93zLyjO0ffJA82VrAhM/s1600/296520_10100614988494933_1219537_60145798_7025158_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtQ3HSwGSnJLPvkMrmZVrJ21H4yriGwlLEuZQeYVz3CMDujl045c2BRwpQEP18PXd8oo4nr-Ny-mH8X-Uvq8KsOXt3PXNn8XM8N8L_3vmF8M3V3dNrZOZw2_q93zLyjO0ffJA82VrAhM/s320/296520_10100614988494933_1219537_60145798_7025158_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I am incredibly grateful that Nick has the kind of job where he has the option of working from home so he's able to be home with Nora a few days a week. I don't think he always feels the same way, however... especially since Nora's favorite hobbies now include diving headfirst off the couch into the coffee table, kicking the dog square in the face without any provocation whatsoever, and hiding her pacifier in her diaper pail with the poopy diapers.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nick also puts up with a lot of my craziness. Like last night, for example, we took a quick trip to Target, mainly for milk since we were almost out, and for a few other items we needed. The whole reason, mind you, for even going to Target in the first place (for the second trip in less than 5 days), was for the great "sale" on milk. I say "sale" because it wasn't really... in my mind, it was - because as Nick told me, I'm apparently selectively dyslexic. I swore up and down that milk was on sale for $2.39 this week... that's $1 off the regular price, mind you, which is pretty unbeatable for a gallon of whole milk (note this is Nora's milk... we don't drink milk regularly enough to mind whole milk in coffee, etc.... we're not big milk fatties that just drink whole milk all the time - no offense to any of you who drink whole milk all the time, but really, you should probably switch to at least 2%).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So when we got to the refrigerated case and Nick pointed out it was $3.29, NOT $2.39, I was up in arms and promptly ran back to the front of the store to check the price printed in the weekly ad. I was very disappointed in myself when I saw he was right. SO not a great deal. After begrudgingly putting the milk in the cart, grumbling that had I known the real price I wouldn't have passed it up at Costco to make a special trip to Target for this "great sale", Nick was already heading toward the checkout stand. So upset by my failure to save $1 on milk (yes, these things upset me), I *kind of* blew up at him a little, explaining how I wasn't even done yet and why are you in such a hurry and can you stay at least a little close by so I can put things in the cart you're pushing and this is why I can't bring you grocery shopping. Yeah.... he puts up with the crazy.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I love you, Nick. Maybe I'll make you a watermelon margerita tonight.</span></div>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-71840747007361791682011-08-15T21:44:00.000-07:002011-08-15T21:44:18.237-07:00Alas, A Weekend at Home<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This past weekend was the first weekend we've actually been able to wake up in our own bed in over a month - literally. Since the second weekend in July, we've been camping...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh9MZXauXx7Lq3EREvlRVMn9wkyn7UTaV9ojLcyPoqQqqN8H911qtodm4qOCP3S6kVy3BhZnhX-w-4i90QJCBMLUe1Yyhy4CXehrigQpdQMei6YsaaNekmA2RYV_793i86bGBVWC4S7NU/s1600/pic+099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh9MZXauXx7Lq3EREvlRVMn9wkyn7UTaV9ojLcyPoqQqqN8H911qtodm4qOCP3S6kVy3BhZnhX-w-4i90QJCBMLUe1Yyhy4CXehrigQpdQMei6YsaaNekmA2RYV_793i86bGBVWC4S7NU/s320/pic+099.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">or vacationing at Russian River...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGKx5pbg8ADbOmksBerXgpQnkwW9RlGjyXaWoa-CIK3BK4Eiu-H1Ye5ogj5yyti0QtMUHjE6p71-e2_iRd-DWa5CgU1l9H1SWdBqKttqr4f3y3Iw-e-bca8I7NCP35_89VHN_yHWKAmJE/s1600/pic+178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGKx5pbg8ADbOmksBerXgpQnkwW9RlGjyXaWoa-CIK3BK4Eiu-H1Ye5ogj5yyti0QtMUHjE6p71-e2_iRd-DWa5CgU1l9H1SWdBqKttqr4f3y3Iw-e-bca8I7NCP35_89VHN_yHWKAmJE/s320/pic+178.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">or in San Diego for Morgan and Cory's wedding...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkY9RFccEyN0GtZZfKU-asEYRxnjOoaS6hYzTPqr9ps-j_BBkTQjIGUq1piDHyu7gwohCWqUIi6znrqn5zt7BwPOHjj1A7126X5pd1tjuEbpp6YG9sDPo8ShUEqvu8LZwOx_u4KbumBAc/s1600/pic+125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkY9RFccEyN0GtZZfKU-asEYRxnjOoaS6hYzTPqr9ps-j_BBkTQjIGUq1piDHyu7gwohCWqUIi6znrqn5zt7BwPOHjj1A7126X5pd1tjuEbpp6YG9sDPo8ShUEqvu8LZwOx_u4KbumBAc/s320/pic+125.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">or in Reno celebrating Corey's 21st birthday.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_xRS7zPpyQm6iSAjfZs4E5lMh51N9CiS8JHDl2cJ7pVV23l8ta6dng70n20OX94lLqi228uHAFGLn9QOKIBmQIxgbaRG7y1Ffl9gHZ9BDZFHgDP8lsrXIyqlAliJN5REYWkYWWyzNfE/s1600/pic+174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_xRS7zPpyQm6iSAjfZs4E5lMh51N9CiS8JHDl2cJ7pVV23l8ta6dng70n20OX94lLqi228uHAFGLn9QOKIBmQIxgbaRG7y1Ffl9gHZ9BDZFHgDP8lsrXIyqlAliJN5REYWkYWWyzNfE/s320/pic+174.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This past weekend, however, we had no major trips planned, and it was wonderful. Don't get me wrong, I am, by no means, complaining that we HAD to go on vacations and be part of an awesome wedding for two of our favorite people in the world and spend a weekend gambling and drinking in the biggest little city in the world. We had a blast each and every weekend with all of our favorite family and friends. But I think everyone can agree that after a while, you just can't wait to be sitting on your couch in your own living room, or using your own shower, or waking up in your own bed (even if there is a hairy, dog-version of Rosemary's baby at the end of that bed). A couple of things I really didn't miss: cleaning, laundry, making my own bed, and oh, that's right, the roosters. Yes, we have neighborhood roosters that have recently decided to take up residence in our park, directly behind our backyard. And every morning around 5:30am, they make sure to remind us that they're still alive and well.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Although we were at home most of the past weekend, we did take a drive to the bay area to attend a totally spectacular party, hosted by our favorite party-hosting friends, Mia and Kevan. The party was 80s-themed, in high demand after the first tubular soiree a few years back. Nora stayed home with Nick's mom, and Nick offered to drive home, so needless to say, I made sure I made the most of this opportunity and was in a fine state by the end of the night. Did not feel too hot the following morning. But totally worth it, as I am, of course, a phenomenal dancer after throwing back a couple of poorly-mixed rum-and-something-fizzy-and-<wbr></wbr>something-juicy drinks.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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</span></div>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-43295672254787219342011-08-14T23:34:00.000-07:002011-08-14T23:34:04.553-07:00My Brief Stint at Stay-at-Home-Mommyhood & what lies ahead...<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Heelllllllloooooooo!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well, needless to say, it's been much, much, MUCH too long since my last blog post. And there's really been no excuse for it. In my last post (...way back in April...) I was just about to become a stay-at-home mom and we were getting ready to leave for Budapest with the family - both were extremely exciting, fun, and times which I will never forget. The trip to Budapest was beyond amazing... I can't even believe I didn't post after coming back (although it was already so long ago, I honestly kind of thought that I had!), it just doesn't seem to do it justice to mention it now, four months later, but here are some highlights: did lots of sightseeing, saw lots of distant family that fed us lots of delicious Hungarian food, drank A LOT of wine, and even survived a halfway-around-the-world-and-back flight with a 10-month old. Nora did amazingly well and was surprisingly extremely easy to travel with - unfortunately she will not have any recollection of the trip, but we came back with well over a thousand pictures collectively and hopefully we'll be able to make the trip again someday when she's older.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewOXdIZUJSB7aPV9rIgoGi-gs6fCqjfyQS1tbzJNTIz58DnWuUPFhEffYIjLQOfK5oQEpB4OQsDYr_mFmCgeOl3b8lY8OgqcJkNQvSAAfLlSxcXvF7B0r1A4R_FQADAlF_PVBeiS3ZtU/s1600/budapest+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewOXdIZUJSB7aPV9rIgoGi-gs6fCqjfyQS1tbzJNTIz58DnWuUPFhEffYIjLQOfK5oQEpB4OQsDYr_mFmCgeOl3b8lY8OgqcJkNQvSAAfLlSxcXvF7B0r1A4R_FQADAlF_PVBeiS3ZtU/s320/budapest+002.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beginning of one long plane ride... I've never been more thankful for Nora's excellent sleeping habits.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibbRHaBmRZXiPeUgfWTze4VwHYChfU8TQzSLCRGBVBsKZf1n_1YdhzrcqXsl6vFJWuqf2A1tY9t8gX0E72FD9DDj7x0pgYI0PaOKBat-Pb7GJ0I5cjT9M8sO3YGUmv979E-qE6sVZWjQM/s1600/budapest+011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibbRHaBmRZXiPeUgfWTze4VwHYChfU8TQzSLCRGBVBsKZf1n_1YdhzrcqXsl6vFJWuqf2A1tY9t8gX0E72FD9DDj7x0pgYI0PaOKBat-Pb7GJ0I5cjT9M8sO3YGUmv979E-qE6sVZWjQM/s320/budapest+011.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">N-n-n-n-n-Nora the explorer.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9RIQjQcoV54U6eQfjfELaav6Z3CIp1yUP3VRvaLWGtfwztMh13ClHDk7_qIG1UMNKZk6IVddBCIQqqB-GrPBeG61LI0FmdXSFUSUQ-uquo9HGnnvUt71s3WlVFY2LM1Z4hTLR5V4oKog/s1600/budapest+429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9RIQjQcoV54U6eQfjfELaav6Z3CIp1yUP3VRvaLWGtfwztMh13ClHDk7_qIG1UMNKZk6IVddBCIQqqB-GrPBeG61LI0FmdXSFUSUQ-uquo9HGnnvUt71s3WlVFY2LM1Z4hTLR5V4oKog/s320/budapest+429.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nick and Nora enjoying the leisurely walk across the Szechenyi Bridge toward Buda.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuiMMH0J9k1KA2EukgVjeNdm2IMy1Gy_Q0iQiZBK_3ZQ6W5TTMIe7urwjxcgCDZmfHGVFIEWqHxKdGOYqYIRtutRMt-ChHmy5r4U1i_RMiRQYtHCRB4dUFkaHJTmY5jzY-L5i8k0fWQ2M/s1600/budapest+471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuiMMH0J9k1KA2EukgVjeNdm2IMy1Gy_Q0iQiZBK_3ZQ6W5TTMIe7urwjxcgCDZmfHGVFIEWqHxKdGOYqYIRtutRMt-ChHmy5r4U1i_RMiRQYtHCRB4dUFkaHJTmY5jzY-L5i8k0fWQ2M/s320/budapest+471.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The quaint and windy streets of the castle district in Buda.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEholg772zxO1WhlMAa2QjqOHZ_kD-7y6_QGxRmhQN5gFXPo3iGCMdU_zlynWP4NosMTZWBGNgLPrT_4EE3cUuTL9ReNhIxcH0ICFSW5nb_W1r5_cX9KDaUpN1H-YI3NaU7XZQd42TVgdxk/s1600/budapest+510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEholg772zxO1WhlMAa2QjqOHZ_kD-7y6_QGxRmhQN5gFXPo3iGCMdU_zlynWP4NosMTZWBGNgLPrT_4EE3cUuTL9ReNhIxcH0ICFSW5nb_W1r5_cX9KDaUpN1H-YI3NaU7XZQd42TVgdxk/s320/budapest+510.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breakfast of champions.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirsQRByBZzNDVVvJpRgzYQgSQnCk9kUk6HXDb8RnD3-unBVIL4b6l73ntm60dauc4W5k1sZ_zCod6a9HMoCgPjNgbfcjZ0jH6gyd6p-Ltcqr0kd2xSvy90Sinea4MWYQQ0KY-8OxQEY0k/s1600/budapest+372.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirsQRByBZzNDVVvJpRgzYQgSQnCk9kUk6HXDb8RnD3-unBVIL4b6l73ntm60dauc4W5k1sZ_zCod6a9HMoCgPjNgbfcjZ0jH6gyd6p-Ltcqr0kd2xSvy90Sinea4MWYQQ0KY-8OxQEY0k/s320/budapest+372.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the Citadel, the highest point in Budapest.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKP3eDQLEFJNSr45_Qy4KqdFxhgKM7zC9FNwEW-2uf9qaVcavo4aRwDuZJXFdB7EKj9ytH-O0QvzH8hVUPNyyjMIhd4uAHjPFtfllD1CzvMO_Rr_Z4UGsNnPBkIBfTHgM_i3CWbnl7U2U/s1600/budapest+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKP3eDQLEFJNSr45_Qy4KqdFxhgKM7zC9FNwEW-2uf9qaVcavo4aRwDuZJXFdB7EKj9ytH-O0QvzH8hVUPNyyjMIhd4uAHjPFtfllD1CzvMO_Rr_Z4UGsNnPBkIBfTHgM_i3CWbnl7U2U/s320/budapest+012.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happily looking like tourists on the very-touristy Vaci Utca, making our way to the market.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I definitely recalled some very fond memories of my four months abroad while I was lucky enough to live in this beautiful city. I retraced the steps I took nearly five years ago (how has it really been that long?) around the city, down Andrassy Ut, around City Park and the fabulous Szecheny Baths, remembering without hesitation the correct stops on the metro lines and which streets to turn down in order to conveniently pass by my favorite places to eat and drink. Since we've gotten back from this trip, Nick and I have said countless times... <em>I want to go back</em>. But the real reason this trip was so special was because of the company we shared while there, in particular, my grandmother - Oma - to those of you who know our family. I can't describe how amazing it was to travel to her and my grandfather's hometown, to stay with family that she hasn't seen in decades and watch them reminisce and joke and sing like they had never been apart all these years... to see the small rural town which has been modernized (and by modernized, I mean some people now have running water and electricity, and some even have internet and satellite TV - ironically, however, many of those with satellite TV do not also have running water...) but still seems, in so many ways, frozen in a much simpler time where most people make homemade wine and many have not even been to the capital city of Budapest, 2 hours away. Oma was the very best tourguide we could have asked for, and when back in Budapest, I took over and happily helped my family to discover this beautiful and unique city on the Danube.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ghT3Hqy7n9UhkAOyogxdK46n2-3Ku6QKVvncXwEfGYqgLbMI1XuQCwMDpAKKYS4yESaFG9hDjaaAxHUhWqgVCFRbZ-YLoauNu05ZZgvj_FYa4aeBGMFgp8GS_8XjEmwy4vNnDHo6l0M/s1600/IMG_0120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ghT3Hqy7n9UhkAOyogxdK46n2-3Ku6QKVvncXwEfGYqgLbMI1XuQCwMDpAKKYS4yESaFG9hDjaaAxHUhWqgVCFRbZ-YLoauNu05ZZgvj_FYa4aeBGMFgp8GS_8XjEmwy4vNnDHo6l0M/s320/IMG_0120.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My grandfather's family's old street in the middle of Duschau/Duzs.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghgkkw05tPJWlUX66DezV603xneeTY9Ma1i3yGn_RD0vnDLzVhny5nPiYwngkRUOLVWqg5CBDW-UdJ_QnvKCL69kSU6hJfwApuyO_USi3MR6uuQzP0XK3waDiRkN4DBwXYwL1rasUUMLM/s1600/budapest+160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghgkkw05tPJWlUX66DezV603xneeTY9Ma1i3yGn_RD0vnDLzVhny5nPiYwngkRUOLVWqg5CBDW-UdJ_QnvKCL69kSU6hJfwApuyO_USi3MR6uuQzP0XK3waDiRkN4DBwXYwL1rasUUMLM/s320/budapest+160.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Duschau family... halfway around the world, yet so much like being at home.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4Rh1d23lt9qKyw-uLloVUd2e7b5eGXeSOtieqxdoUTciNbAsS3twnJR7abWc_C4kQI57PF_GkSSFmNuHkoTR9TfsmM3cU4tDs6WUlrIUhMZP1hT7xgZ2ZVgttg3tlb9xDbqoZZfijdc/s1600/budapest+233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4Rh1d23lt9qKyw-uLloVUd2e7b5eGXeSOtieqxdoUTciNbAsS3twnJR7abWc_C4kQI57PF_GkSSFmNuHkoTR9TfsmM3cU4tDs6WUlrIUhMZP1hT7xgZ2ZVgttg3tlb9xDbqoZZfijdc/s320/budapest+233.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My great-great grandmother's house, where Oma spent many happy days as a child. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFP0-OyFO4ve-fCzn9myG4t_6cRwrdRjSF8dbTJRAG2_0q58QYO2HOeRKwZMVFAY5_9VPl8IBZeMg1QusnvSI0rgff7lATjMuAmEERaNt2E-6bBnNOnFWlMGrYtQYmJRQxKCDe5xXr_J4/s1600/budapest+316.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFP0-OyFO4ve-fCzn9myG4t_6cRwrdRjSF8dbTJRAG2_0q58QYO2HOeRKwZMVFAY5_9VPl8IBZeMg1QusnvSI0rgff7lATjMuAmEERaNt2E-6bBnNOnFWlMGrYtQYmJRQxKCDe5xXr_J4/s320/budapest+316.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom, aunt Maria and uncle Norman taking in the view from my grandfather's family's former vineyard.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYITzTvv5H7uG20F_0q1oM6arcxlfZCwJnw-IxTVUOp5WYxQbhL4AdvzaQ8CKy7L44VCPFhz3uGl2KRWbYrUgXIQMpSU6KJ7g8Hl8dthBddjqelEl9IG07XXSNS-MmsttQZmm5kMFGE0M/s1600/budapest+335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYITzTvv5H7uG20F_0q1oM6arcxlfZCwJnw-IxTVUOp5WYxQbhL4AdvzaQ8CKy7L44VCPFhz3uGl2KRWbYrUgXIQMpSU6KJ7g8Hl8dthBddjqelEl9IG07XXSNS-MmsttQZmm5kMFGE0M/s320/budapest+335.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The best little traveler you know.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was also very exciting and relieving knowing that once I returned from the trip, I would officially be a stay-at-home mom. While it was short-lived, I enjoyed each and every second that I was able to spend with Nora and wish it could have lasted a little longer before returning to work, but alas, I've learned since I've entered adulthood that unfortunately there's this silly thing called money and these other annoying things called bills and apparently, you need the former in order to get rid of the latter. I don't really like being an adult sometimes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So, I am now once again a <strike>working</strike> employed-outside-the-home-and-getting-paid-for-it mom... and so far, even though it is not easy leaving Nora every morning, I'm actually really enjoying my new job. I'm extremely grateful for the fact that everyone I've met is genuinely nice and welcoming, making for an easy transition back into office-life. AND, everyone tells me there's a good chunk of downtime most days, which will hopefully allow me to get back to my blog on a much more regular basis. I figured that it was a good sign when on my second day, I looked in my file drawer and found this:</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-8UnTojWUiUJx2Agax1tq_19vQYv-7D7n9Gbx-ChQlQ-D9cwAiFviC1Gy72Nx2sxVgRJ3jFmsqsETf-nqubTMiHTy1ZU82Zt5HQj17U__jrg3SIXpjTrqFQtTU0FD7tQLTA0q4UrnGKw/s1600/photo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-8UnTojWUiUJx2Agax1tq_19vQYv-7D7n9Gbx-ChQlQ-D9cwAiFviC1Gy72Nx2sxVgRJ3jFmsqsETf-nqubTMiHTy1ZU82Zt5HQj17U__jrg3SIXpjTrqFQtTU0FD7tQLTA0q4UrnGKw/s320/photo.png" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was clearly left by the girl that used to sit at my cubicle. But the question was, did she accidentally leave it behind? Or, did she very purposefully leave it behind, because maybe she received it as a gift in a <strike>secret santa</strike> yankee swap gift exchange, when really what she wanted was the iPod? (...unfortunately it was the first assumption, and yes, I had to give it back.)</span>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-46793581315828549142011-04-05T21:55:00.000-07:002011-04-05T21:55:13.217-07:00I’m so excited… and I just can’t hide it…<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Excitement is in the air. It has once again been much too long since my last post, and for that I do apologize…I'll be making up for it with a super long post this time. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXzfK-exFPf3lPsr1BYR9YlSO3xAhNqsNTxyw-xMDbPvMqrRxNu1oP-d8A8UZ4zwZxh9Zuzbjr04YQ7kN_RorC6Yjvw0xMEGjAzMrae5sxGQcXNCQ6Kp1rOmx5YF6pRf8EOM-bvv480k/s1600/snow+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXzfK-exFPf3lPsr1BYR9YlSO3xAhNqsNTxyw-xMDbPvMqrRxNu1oP-d8A8UZ4zwZxh9Zuzbjr04YQ7kN_RorC6Yjvw0xMEGjAzMrae5sxGQcXNCQ6Kp1rOmx5YF6pRf8EOM-bvv480k/s200/snow+010.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’s been a very busy last few weeks and this week has been no exception. We spent this past weekend with my sister and her boyfriend at his family’s cabin, along with my brother and his girlfriend. The trip was mine and Nick’s birthday present from my sister, and we had a great weekend – and Nora seemed to enjoy her first snow trip, although she didn’t really come in contact too much with the actual snow… I think she was much more excited about the toy boats in the bathtub and her new-found crush in my sister’s boyfriend. I’ve never seen a 9-month old so smitten with an ‘older’ man.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJ5qj8gXjIxsyb5t1-UZnH8V52MR83gIa-CMCMbWDSI8PCTMQho7Yue5Y6TCI6v_sdJBUDWG6QLb4SdolMr5Dpiz2nUMaQiIYqmdvG3KRihe8Jud6xgQv-c4lWEH0l5T_qxRZpKZXWeA/s1600/snow+034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJ5qj8gXjIxsyb5t1-UZnH8V52MR83gIa-CMCMbWDSI8PCTMQho7Yue5Y6TCI6v_sdJBUDWG6QLb4SdolMr5Dpiz2nUMaQiIYqmdvG3KRihe8Jud6xgQv-c4lWEH0l5T_qxRZpKZXWeA/s320/snow+034.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynzUTNhFjZZ7WIDjnBHC-fSbr6Njy1c-Zpnp-FQDC8vnmBYlOY4wbq1OgWtATLpQUg9d9XfJTgl0Bqhf5r9vxkAGaLgmmUKuEbWrK4ip46o7PFlpJNnzPm3I488ulQm_T_ChPT1NUfGM/s1600/snow+021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynzUTNhFjZZ7WIDjnBHC-fSbr6Njy1c-Zpnp-FQDC8vnmBYlOY4wbq1OgWtATLpQUg9d9XfJTgl0Bqhf5r9vxkAGaLgmmUKuEbWrK4ip46o7PFlpJNnzPm3I488ulQm_T_ChPT1NUfGM/s320/snow+021.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The snow trip was a nice and relaxing finish to a busy and hectic week. On Monday of last week, I officially put in my two weeks notice for my job and have since been working non-stop to tie up any loose ends before my last day. This was both extremely exciting (if you know me then you know that this is a day I’ve been looking forward to for a while) and very nerve-wracking as I’ve been doing my best to assure myself that it’s the right move to make right now. I’ve been wanting a change for a while now, and this decision would have been made a year ago had it not been for a little bundle of joy surprising us and entering our lives (of course, an immense blessing which I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world, but a bit of a surprise, nonetheless). So, the time has now come to officially cut my ties with the job I was never really thrilled to have in the first place, but was very fortunate to have at a time when thousands of people were (are) still out of work. After this week, I will officially be a full-time momma (who is still looking for a part-time job… so if you know of anything, let me know!).</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Part of the reason I chose to put in notice at this particular time was because of the other reason this last week and the current week have been so busy – we’re headed to Budapest in only 5 DAYS!!! We began planning this trip two years ago and for the longest time it seemed so far away, and was looking like only a few of us would be able to go. The group has now grown to include me, Nick and Nora, my brother and sister, aunt Kathy and uncle Norman (these were the original travelers), as well as my mom, my Oma, and my aunt Maria and uncle Paul. I don’t think I ever imagined we’d ever have the opportunity for a trip like this, and I’m so amazingly grateful and excited at the idea that we’re all actually going, especially when I think about how amazing it will be to be able to travel with my grandmother to the town where she and my grandfather grew up, in a little town in Southern Hungary. I know that there will also be some sad and bittersweet times on this trip, as we will all constantly be reminded of my grandfather and the fact that we’re making this trip without him, as we remember his memories and stories that we all grew up hearing. It will be the trip of a lifetime, and I plan to have lots of stories of my own and pictures to share when we return.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I’m hoping that no more than one or two of those stories will involve Nora being a pain in the butt during a ten hour flight, or of us missing our connecting flight in London during a 90-minute layover due to a diaper catastrophe. One can hope.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihlwQQxmoJpBRSURGq1Qk6VUz3vULvthLsJ_IesmwJ4WEZqgUIpcRFYJSxGVjhiAVdreOIc7DGzqszwHucpPP1Cde5s98nEelDv32Tp-tW7tsxDfymgGqczzP3S_lZSi451U6Yz6jspeU/s1600/snow+073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihlwQQxmoJpBRSURGq1Qk6VUz3vULvthLsJ_IesmwJ4WEZqgUIpcRFYJSxGVjhiAVdreOIc7DGzqszwHucpPP1Cde5s98nEelDv32Tp-tW7tsxDfymgGqczzP3S_lZSi451U6Yz6jspeU/s320/snow+073.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-46414514167684000012011-03-24T18:04:00.000-07:002011-03-24T18:04:14.742-07:00And the rain rain rain came down down down…<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Holy guacamole. It’s raining not only dogs and cats, but I think lions and tigers and bears, too. And that ferocious rain is accompanied by such lovely up-to-60mph-winds.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And thank you, CalTrans, for informing me of this with your roadside signs saying ‘Caution: High Wind’. Because that didn’t occur to me while I was struggling to keep my car on the freeway this morning and running my windshield wipers at ludicrous speed in an attempt to see through the sheets of rain being thrown against my windshield. I’m so grateful that sign was there to give me the news.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I would have felt much more informed had I seen <a href="http://media.wcnc.com/images/032111-Zombie+Road+Signs+02.jpg">this sign</a> instead. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">At least it would have been news.</span></div>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-42223304261775305642011-03-22T20:59:00.000-07:002011-03-22T20:59:21.970-07:00Am I The Biggest Loser?<div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Every season <s>we</s> I seem to get addicted to a new reality show. A couple of years ago it was<i>Jersey Shore</i> (…which we’re still addicted to, I’m sad to say… we love celebrating T-shirt time on Thursday nights), at one point it was <i>More to Love </i>(the fat girls’ version of <i>The Bachelor</i>, for those millions of you who did not watch it – I don’t really feel bad calling it that either, since that was literally the entire premise of the show and the point they constantly drilled into you), last year it was Ocho Cinco’s <i>Ultimate Catch </i>(I still can’t get over how big of a b**** Tara was – how did she manage to make it so far?!?).</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This season, it’s <i>The Biggest Loser</i>. And it’s pretty pathetic how excited I get every Tuesday knowing that a new episode will be on that night – and tonight’s the night, and <i>oh my god, they might bring Arthur back! How exciting… he sooo needs this, everyone knows it… how did they kick him off in the first place?</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yes, I’m really that excited. Not so much about Arthur, which they keep hyping up on the previews without actually saying that’s who’s coming back but still making it really obvious to the point that it’s not even a question, but about a new episode. Nick was actually the one that suggested we start watching it, and I thought, ‘hmm, this might be good – maybe watching this will encourage us to eat healthier and exercise more, and maybe consider getting a gym membership again or at least go on walks <i>in the park which is literally in our backyard.’ </i>Alas, no. Instead, we usually end up opening up a package of oreos about ten minutes into the show and drinking an entire bottle of wine… which is totally reasonable when you think about the fact that we’re eating oreos during the show which is TWO HOURS every week (is that really necessary? I’m really not complaining though…) and that’s quite a long time to be eating cookies without having something to wash them down with. And if we’ve learned anything from<i>The Biggest Loser</i>, it’s that milk is fattening and packs a lot of calories, <i>ergo</i>, wine is clearly the healthier choice.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi45LQR7zH0vZC-7Le7PBdnoqZv9WkJxJxnfoZ14DEqPjIpb_mhmjB_mduKyGy6IdN_6y94P3kIeVFQDdjjdICbdiDcU45g6LAFNC5Q-OXtM0K-DfSU6dvhiVfGlQFo5yRJJ71mzQMj4vE/s1600/picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi45LQR7zH0vZC-7Le7PBdnoqZv9WkJxJxnfoZ14DEqPjIpb_mhmjB_mduKyGy6IdN_6y94P3kIeVFQDdjjdICbdiDcU45g6LAFNC5Q-OXtM0K-DfSU6dvhiVfGlQFo5yRJJ71mzQMj4vE/s320/picture.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-10980471102088792222011-03-20T10:20:00.000-07:002011-03-20T10:20:49.362-07:00Sunday Morning in the Seevers House<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A morning of relaxing before I start getting ready for church... watching some cartoons (Nora couldn't care less... so pretty much just me watching Spongebob), checking email... as well as:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nora taking bites out of magazines - </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQMVQ5RLfw_uxNEObElai0QzuukQ3wUkw0KgbU5WWHCBxGL95U_VbVyM9zteVmRapx-vjjAsRCpmSQsHVi3pBUeUa0VnHtmWEmZQvfn4Ajg1jCdpu_Y8fUxcElHIzc9evXYAtih3wrXO8/s1600/picture+047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQMVQ5RLfw_uxNEObElai0QzuukQ3wUkw0KgbU5WWHCBxGL95U_VbVyM9zteVmRapx-vjjAsRCpmSQsHVi3pBUeUa0VnHtmWEmZQvfn4Ajg1jCdpu_Y8fUxcElHIzc9evXYAtih3wrXO8/s320/picture+047.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJIFe2JHconjdx1A-0IPqGI2piEtNGaxxqMd750440LKAAo5p0wSprAFwd86laLDwWUrEqNDoOsEd8JbwkkXDYKRXQvb30F8Y0gfLQirfv3KaEl8YjLO5koBeIIWeTui3McQXtGVob8s/s1600/picture+046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJIFe2JHconjdx1A-0IPqGI2piEtNGaxxqMd750440LKAAo5p0wSprAFwd86laLDwWUrEqNDoOsEd8JbwkkXDYKRXQvb30F8Y0gfLQirfv3KaEl8YjLO5koBeIIWeTui3McQXtGVob8s/s320/picture+046.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">...and the dog drinking an entire cup of coffee while I change a diaper... my fault for leaving it sitting on the coffee table (what kind of dummie leaves a <i>coffee</i> cup on the <i>coffee</i> table?). </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">At least it's a better start to the day than yesterday, when we woke up and realized we had no power and hadn't had power since the middle of the night... and wouldn't be getting power back until 2:00 in the afternoon. Not having power kind of sucks. I reminded myself every so often as I eagerly awaited the electricity to return that there are thousands and thousands of people in other parts of the world right now - Japan, New Zealand - that are in MUCH worse shape and would be thrilled to only have to worry about not having power for 12 hours. I, however, could only think about the fact that my head would be killing me by about 11am if I didn't find a way to make coffee. And that I had a 3lb tri tip in the refrigerator marinating for dinner that night with Nick's family, with a death sentence as it got less and less cold in there and I wondered about a plan B for Nana's birthday dinner. And that I really needed to vacuum the rugs and run the washing machine to wash the bathroom rugs and towels before they came over at 6pm. Obviously, these were very trivial concerns in the grand scheme of things, but when the power's out and you can't watch TV or use the internet, you have time to dwell on silly thoughts like this. Of course, everything turned out fine - the power came back on suddenly a little after 2pm, and we had plenty of time to finish cleaning and get the food ready before everyone came over (...early, of course... I'm so used to my family that shows up about a half hour late to everything, so arriving early is quite a foreign idea). We had a great time visiting with Nick's mom, uncle, Nana, and Nana's best friend Bertha. Enjoyed some champagne, ate a good dinner, shared in some birthday cake. Happy 85th Birthday, Nana!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNVykkwus2lhXsEihf-Be3bvDohHmb7_X4_6pujgDjG8gcoM11p0feVLCpcO92C0YdRpS374e39gAYZBioV5PYjvd_r4fKmQb374aBSLSjtIqX1rZL6xco9Q8vyMGq6UHDj5N1HpRm8rY/s1600/picture+041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNVykkwus2lhXsEihf-Be3bvDohHmb7_X4_6pujgDjG8gcoM11p0feVLCpcO92C0YdRpS374e39gAYZBioV5PYjvd_r4fKmQb374aBSLSjtIqX1rZL6xco9Q8vyMGq6UHDj5N1HpRm8rY/s320/picture+041.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-26908354881317133102011-03-10T18:00:00.001-08:002011-03-10T18:00:51.556-08:00Feeling a little old… but not minding it so much.<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I’m officially another year older, and I have to say, I’m okay with it. (How do <i>you</i> feel about it, Jon Hamm? Don’t worry, you’ll always be a young and dapper dreamboat in my eyes…) I know that I’m still by no means <i>old</i>… some of my <s>older</s> more distinguished friends and family members would not be very pleased with me if I said that 26 was old.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I think it’s the fact that 25 was such a nice round number… only a quarter of a century, still only halfway to 50, old enough to rent a car (…who really cares, right?), and by definition, in the “mid” twenties. Even though it’s only a year’s difference, 26 just seems like a big jump… it could even be argued that I’ve now entered “late” twenties. Arguably.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But to be honest, I don’t really care what my age is; I just really appreciate the fact that I have so many great friends and family to be incredibly grateful for – there’s nothing like a million 'Happy Birthdays!' on facebook to remind you how much you’re loved. Or at least to remind you how many people are on facebook often enough to see that it’s your birthday. Either way, it makes me happy.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here’s to an even more fantastic year ahead - <b><i>Cheers!</i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">p.s.: that's my way of saying that I'm drinking a bottle of wine at my desk right now... just kidding. </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: small; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">p.p.s.: am I kidding? I wish I wasn't. It would make the afternoon go by so much faster.</span></i></div>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-63242333530315356472011-03-06T21:14:00.000-08:002011-03-06T21:14:47.577-08:00A Birthday Feast<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Today is my husband's birthday... Happy Birthday, my dear - I do love you soooo much, and wish you many many happy birthday wishes. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We went to <a href="http://www.mehranrestaurantandcatering.com/">Mehran</a> with a discount gift certificate from <a href="http://www.restaurant.com/index.asp?pgn=home">restaurant.com</a> (check this site out if you haven't... really great deals for only a few bucks...) for a delicious and extremely filling dinner of Indian food. The gift certificate we had was $25 off a bill of $35 or more, so we went a little overboard to ensure we got to the $35 minimum. We clearly weren't keeping track of the dollar amounts as we were ordering, and ended up just pretty much ordering everything that sounded good. We were still able to keep it under $30 out of pocket including the tip (which was happily handed over since the waiter/manager/possible owner let us use the gift certificate even though they apparently aren't valid there anymore, which we didn't know). For the three of us, we ordered vegetable samosas, a mixed grill special (with shrimp, lamb, and two different kinds of chicken), chicken tikka masala, rice, aloo palak, plain naan and garlic naan, and a mango lassi. And really all that was just for the two of us, since Nora had about two bird-sized bites of naan. She clearly needs to step up her game.</span>kimmeree3http://www.blogger.com/profile/18076562810668532301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985676286578620494.post-85228826017255497112011-03-04T22:04:00.000-08:002011-03-04T22:04:15.011-08:00Business Time: Success!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Wow, I just realized how long it has actually been since my last post... much too long. Aside from my brief praising of Jon Hamm <i>(Happy Almost-Birthday, by the way, Mr. Hamm... we have the same birthday, you know... I'm pretty sure that means we're soul-mates. I know you read my blog.)</i>... my last real post was about re-designing our office/guest room to convert it into a more usable office. Well, we've done it, and it's been feeling quite successful lately. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We've spent time every single day in our new office space, whether Nick is working, I'm crafting, checking email, paying bills, or feeding my new obsession of entering online logo design contests into the wee hours of the morning <i>(...I've been having some vivid flashbacks of studio lately...)</i>, and we've been enjoying nearly every square inch of it. We can fit everything we need - I, all of my indoor craft supplies (the saws, tools, and messy stuff will stay in the garage...), and Nick, all of his files and paperwork, plus all of our miscellaneous computer/electronic/digital what-have-you and a good portion of our books. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The only piece we can't fit now is the 'guest room' portion of the room... my hope was to have enough room to include a small futon in place of one or two of the smaller pieces of furniture we were first considering to remove and put somewhere else in the house. I wanted to have a futon so 90% of the time it would serve as a couch/seating, and then fold out into a bed when we occasionally needed it. Now..... everything just seems to fit so well the way that it is, that we don't know if we want to take anything out to make room for a futon. Which means when my sister comes to visit next weekend, she may be sleeping on a desk. Or sharing Nora's crib.</span><br />
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