October 2010


No, wait, hold on…let me see.  No, it was Captain Morgan.  Sorry to get you all worked up like that.  False alarm, people!

Feeling a little tired today.  I can’t drink like I used to.  The old iron liver is possibly throwing up his hands and calling it a day.

It’s been a nice decade, Katie, but it’s time you let me rest.  Aren’t you ready to, like, start popping out children or something?

And to this I answer: “Helllloo, Liver, have you not heard of mommy play dates?  I hear there’s wine.  So, ha – you can run, but you can’t hide.”

As you know from my last post, Halloween always involves a last minute scramble to throw together some type of costume.  So I thought I was a bit ahead of the game when I decided I was going to go as a leopard. (Thanks leopard shoes for helping me come up with such a creative little number).  But what was Tony going to be?

And then I had an “aha” moment (shout out to Oprah – woot, woot!) when I thought back to all those Planet Earth videos Tony and I watched a couple years back.  Duh!  Tony was going to go as the gazelle!

It was perfect.  And pretty hilarious.  And I planned to get a little tipsy and chase Tony around the bar.  But Tony did not know this last part.

Anyhow, it didn’t end up working, mainly because where the hell do you buy a gazelle costume and also partly because Tony is the epitome of “last minute-dom” and never got his costume together.  So he got to be the guy heckled at when he walked into the speakeasy.  Because even the townies were dressed to the nines.

Anyhow, I figured out how upload pictures to this Mac.  Don’t start getting the idea that I like this Mac, though.  We’ll always have a tense relationship, but for now we’re working together for the common good of the children.  Or internet usage.  Same diff.

So, in no particular order, let me bombard you with an overload of incredibly annoying photos, half of which are taken by me doing that obnoxious “hold arm away from face as if someone else is taking your picture” move.  I’m the poster child for teen girl Facebook profile pics.  Obviously.

There are no pictures of Tony.  Because we cannot lead him to believe that going out without a costume is anywhere near acceptable behavior.  And if we reward this bad behavior, he’ll never learn.  Sorry T.

The amount of hairspray I put in my hair was ridiculous. I had to be careful not to stand next to anyone lighting a cig.

Hello, Lover...

All leopards wear stilettos when stalking their prey. Haven't you ever watched Animal Planet? Gawd!

The leopard's natural habitat includes hardwood floors and stainless steel kitchen appliances. They are high class creatures.

Ok, fiiiine, Tony, we’ll sneak you in.

The leopard's main dinner dish for the evening. With a side of X-Box controller.

Happy Halloween, everybody!

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So it’s that time of year.  Less than a week to Halloween and I have to start brainstorming creative ways to mix and match items in my closet to become some brilliant Halloween costume.

Ugh.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Halloween.  I’m just always under-prepared.  And while it’s nice to use what’s available in my closet, I don’t exactly own a whole lot of clothing that could scream “Clown!”  Or “Witch!”  I gave up green and black striped tube socks years ago.  Ok, fine, last year.  But pointy hats will one day be in style again, mark my word.

Anyhow…I need some suggestions.  I thought it’d be clever to go as Bride of Frankenstein, because, well…duh…look up to the top of your screen.  But the thought of putting my hair through the trauma made my split ends scream in agony.

Besides, I’m 27.  If I’m not wearing something outwardly sexy, I’m just not trying hard enough.  Cowgirl?  Good idea, let’s make it sexy cowgirl.  Lawyer?  Lady lawyers wear sexy pencil skirts, yeah?  How about a construction worker?  They work in miniskirts right?  I feel like I might have read that in some safety handbook somewhere.

Any ideas?  You provide the outfit inspiration.  I’ll cover the shoes.

You know how they say pregnant women will have some intense dreams, especially towards the end of the pregnancy?

My metaphorical wedding pregnancy is almost over and I’m having all these horrible dreams that it’s the day of the wedding and I didn’t realize it.  Because that really makes sense, right?  All of a sudden it’s December 4th and…whoa…I must have forgotten I had something important to do.  What was that anyway?  Oh well, let’s just go to lunch and have a burger or something.

Last night I had a terrible dream that I forgot to make an appointment to get my hair done.  If you know me, you’d know this would be my worst nightmare.  I’m the kind of girl that could rock an outfit, but if my hair doesn’t look quite right, it’ll ruin my whole night.  It might be because I have the kind of hair that knows how to feel.  And 99% it feels a dislike for me because it very rarely chooses to work with me.

What’s that?  You’d like just one day of pretty curls?  Well, bwahaha – I shall cause rain today.

Don’t ask me how my hair has the ability to control the weather, either.  It’s a science thing.

Anyway, in the dream I showed up to the salon with my two maids of honor and begged them to fit us in because, oh stupid me, I completely forgot to make an appointment.  Allie and Tiffany sat right down and the stylists started to work diligently, curling and fussing over their tresses.  My stylist started asking me questions regarding what I’d like and I remember feeling really confused and not really describing the style well.  So she goes off for a little bit and I figure she’s getting tools or, who knows, maybe making an inspiration board for my updo for all I know.

But then time starts to tick away and she doesn’t come back.  Fast forward 30 minutes and nobody else seems to think this is weird.  Not one to rock the boat (gosh, I can’t even escape that personality trait in my dreams), I start panicking, but still nicely ask around about my stylist.  After a little while longer, and a glance at the clock that tells me I only have an hour until the wedding, I start really freaking out.  That’s when they nonchalantly give me a new stylist.

When this new stylist is done, my hair looks like a mess.  She slicked the front down with a crease in the middle and curled weird tendrils all around the back of my head.  I remember feeling the urge to panic and pull it out, via that crazy YouTube bride that started cutting her hair off in the most ultimate of freak-outs.

That’s when I woke up and realized it wasn’t December 4th.  I still have time to book my appointment at the salon.  And maybe my dream was a good warning to me.  Note to self – book a trial run.

I had big plans for this blog post, I tell you what…

Since a good portion of you were not able to make it to my shower, I was contemplating committing all the shower gifts to digital photo history.  A.K.A. – I was gonna show you some pretty, pretty pictures, ya’ll!

And because I know it would have been an enriching experience for you to see 6 images detailing different angles of the same spice rack (in all fairness, I would have made them really artsy and photojournalistic, but, I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it…), I can tell how bummed you are that you’re missing out on this photographic journey.

“Why, oh why are we missing out on this, Katie?”  (Yeah, I could hear you just now.  Technology, man…pretty crazy stuff.)

The reason you are not able to partake in my second wind of enthusiasm and high-pitch squeals as I document all my new, shiny loot is because my damn computer broke.  Again.  So, like a twist on what the Soup Nazi says…No photos for you!

I’m working on Tony’s Mac.  But I suppose I shouldn’t even get into how long it took me to find the freakin’ internet button.  Who names the internet Safari?  How about something sensible like Internet Explorer.  You know.  With the word INTERNET in the name.

If you want to get artsy, Apple, take up kitchen product photography.  Leave the program wording to someone else.  Like technical writers.  Hey, there’s a thought.

Also?  Get some icons, damnit.  I may or may not have actually made my way to the internet by waving my mouse around frantically across the desktop.  Eventually something finally popped up.  Don’t ask me to navigate my way back here though.  Lady Luck won’t always be standing nearby.

(At this very moment, the thought crossed my mind to title this blog post “Hip, Hip Hooray for PC’s!” but then I thought better of it when I realized my hunk of junk is sitting on the floor being all pathetic and non-motherboardy on me.  And I will not look like a sucker.  Apparently I WILL look like many other things, though.)

Alas, I am a little bummed that you all can’t see my cookie jars filled to the brim with Nerds and Junior Mints.  You’ll have to imagine it though.  Think of the most beautiful vision you can think of.  I’m talking rainbows and unicorns.  Now picture that on my kitchen counter.  Did you just get tingly inside?  And no, that’s not the glucose coursing through your veins.

Hopefully I’ll find some way to be up and running soon.  You wouldn’t believe how much I rely on the internet.  I realized this last time my computer broke when my dad told me I needed to look up the number to the computer store.  I got really disgruntled and told him I couldn’t because I had no way to access their website.

He mentioned something, something Yellow Pages, but I do not know of this thing you all call Yellow Pages.  Is it some holy grail from my parents’ time?  Did it list the dinosaurs in alphabetical order or by species?

On that note, I should probably shut my trap.  The Karma Gods are starting to look at me disapprovingly.

They must have been sad when those dinosaurs died or something.

What does a large, green ceramic chip bowl, a digital grill and enough bakeware to make Martha Stewart weak in the knees have in common?

If you answered: “all things that require some creative handling on Katie’s part to fit into her kitchen cabinets,” you would be correct.

I’d also accept the answer: “things the Princess Bride Katie received at her wedding shower this weekend.”

(And I don’t accept any nicknames other than Princess Bride.  Although, on second thought, Sorceress Of All Things Great And Beautiful would do.  Let’s try to make that stick, shall we?  SOATGAB for short, if needed for brevity purposes, although I think it loses its effect.)

My lovely aunts Nancy and Jenny threw me the shower and my mom flew in to be there as well.  The big surprise of the weekend was having my Aunt Carol open the door when I rang the bell.  Many of you might remember that my Aunt Carol will be officiating the wedding.  And did I fail to mention she lives in Florida?  It was a truly exciting surprise that she flew up to Chicago for the event.  And to add to the craziness, my other aunt showed up by surprise, as well.  She was on vacation in London and took a pit stop through Chicago to join in the celebration.

If you’re jealous of my family right about now, I’m here to tell you that you should be.  And that’s it’s perfectly natural.  We’re pretty spectacular, is all.

I left with 2 carloads full of stuff and came home to a fiancee who was pretty psyched about the loot.  Not psyched enough to help me unpack it all, though.  But psyched none the less. 

I’d tell you more about the weekend, but my memory took a wrong turn at White Wine Alley and is stuck in the abyss somewhere, eating grapes and cheese and generally wandering around in a fairly happy state of mind.  In fact, my memory probably has its arm around some other memory’s neck and they’re telling each other how much they “love each other, maaan.” 

I do remember a lot of laughing, though.  And a lot of being thankful for this great family of mine.

Thanks everybody…for everything.  You all know who you are.

PostNote:  I reread this after I published it and realized I never even thanked my B-Maids for all their help.  So instead of SOATGAB, you have my permission to call me “jerkhead.”  I have the best maids ever!  A 3 gallon cookie jar filled with Nerds and Junior Mints proves this point I believe.

I’m not sure why I wrote the title I did, because I haven’t had cake for breakfast in at least a week.  Just kidding.  Maybe not so kidding about chocolate chip cookies, though.  Also?  Pizza.

(Eating calories for breakfast is better than at night, no?  I feel like I read that somewhere.)

So we finally have a cake for the wedding.  And you all better be drooling from the lower lip because this cake is going to be mighty fine.  Miiiighty fiiiine.  For emphasis.

Because once a dork, always a dork, I became extra nerdy in hunting down things that would “go” with a winter wedding.  Not “match,” though.  Can’t “match.”  I can thank “What Not To Wear” for that little nugget of knowledge.

Anyhow, I’m a humongous mint fan.  Junior Mints are up there with Nerds on the category of “The Little Things In Life That Pacify Katie.”  So I kept going back to the idea of having a mint flavor in the wedding cake.  A chocolate wedding cake.  And, duh, mint is also really “winter-y,” being so…peppermint-y fresh and all.

When I called the bakery to schedule a tasting, I told them of my grand idea and they told me they make a great mint filling and would have some ready for our tasting.  They had me at “hello,” but I went to the tasting anyway.  A girl always needs to play a little hard to get.

The mint filling was delish.  Not too minty at all, in fact, but just a hint and it was insanely awesome with the layer of chocolate ganache inside the chocolate cake.  I ate the entire slice.  And did not feel guilty.  Sorry scale.

So here’s how the cake goes.  The bottom layer will be chocolate cake, 1 layer of chocolate ganache filling and 2 layers of mint.  The second layer will be yellow cake with 2 layers of raspberry cream.  The top layer will be the chocolate lover’s delight.  Chocolate on chocolate.  The outside is covered in their “secret recipe” buttercream, which…ah-mazing.  It was so light and fluffy.  Definitely different from the run-of-the-mill sugar-loaded grocery store buttercream.

And because you thought I couldn’t get anymore annoying and I’m here to prove you wrong – we’re doing a snow theme on the outside of the cake.  There will be bands around the top of each cake that will be made of shaved white chocolate.  In essence, to represent snow.  You guys totally think I’m cool, right?  Yeah?  Guys?

Anyway, a little project update.  I haven’t forgotten the 1st post to our table number luminaries.  We made a lot of headway this past week with all the staining.  I’ve never been so high in my life off of wood stain fumes.  You all see the fairies, too, right?

I’ll update soon with pictures.  Right now the fairies are telling me it’s past my bedtime, though.

P.S. – Anybody have any cool, artsy, abstract, unique, winterish ideas for a cake topper?  Tony and I toyed around with possibly putting tall peppermint sticks on top in a cool arrangement…you know…bringing it full circle to the mint and all…But we’re open to any ideas.  So lay ’em on me!

Tonight Tony’s Xbox starting making a really loud, really broken-sounding buzzing noise.  I tried really hard to furrow my brow and look concerned as he shuffled around frantically on the carpet, putting his ear up to all the parts on the machine.  I really did.  But secretly I was looking at the ceiling asking “Are you there, God?  It’s me, Katie.  You’ve been hearing my prayers, haven’t you?”  And then I winked like we share an inside joke or something.  God can be a homey too, you know.

Anyway, my glee was short lived.  Somehow God must have heard me asking and thought “Wait, you aren’t Katie S.?  Oops – I was supposed to visit a house down the road where a Katie S. lives.  And I can only break 1 Xbox a day.  It’s a quota thing.” (Apparently, God can also be Santa Claus and visit houses.  This IS God we’re talking about.  But no fireplaces.  A guest like God is good enough to come through the proper foyer in front).

So, somehow the powers that be made the noise go away.  And I am currently watching my fiancee live out his all-time fantasy of being a Warrant Officer on a team named Slayer in a world where you run around an abandoned warehouse and test out your sniper aim on weird aliens in armor suits.  Because skills like that will most certainly come in handy someday.  You know.  When the aliens invade.

My only hope is the buzzing will come back tomorrow.  I do own a few nice pairs of heels.  They leave very few marks.