I'm Back!!!

It's been a while, hasn't it? It seems like ages. I've missed you! Everything in general has been kind of crazy. So where can I begin? My last blog was on April 1, 2010. That was like nine months ago. Jeesh, that's almost the length of pregnancy... the things I could have been doing, haha. BUT, I do have lots of updates. Here we go:

• We took in a foster cat named Macy. Just last month she officially became ours. She is also my most well behaved "child". This is proof that I should not begin parenting anything until it is at least 6 years of age.
  

• Harry turned from the dream puppy into a demon child almost overnight. I don't know what happened. He knows commands, but refuses to listen. He hates cuddling. He'd rather bite your leg off than be petted. But, we're working on it. We still love him. My ripped apart couch and the fact that he's still alive is proof of this.
  

• Andrew and I took a relationship hiatus. I'm not proud of it. I wish it hadn't happened. BUT! I do have to say that we are stronger than ever. We are ready for our future together, we worked out some of our quirks and we appreciate each a helluva lot more. It's good times.
  

• I still have the same job, in my cube, be jealous... I know I am... of EVERYONE! ;-)
  

• On an unfortunate note, we had some family tragedy not too long ago. Andrew's mother was seriously hurt during a robbery. But, she is the strongest woman I've ever met and she is doing fantastically and we feel so blessed that she's here.
  

• As for me, well I'm a still a smart ass. Perhaps I'm a tid bit humbler these days. I think this is a good thing. I'm becoming a better woman every day.
  

  
  So what else did you miss? Well you missed one killer Halloween party. So I'm going to add some pictures to this post. Everyone likes pictures.

Alice in Wonderland theme; Andrew as the Mad Hatter, my BFF Olga as Alice and me, the Red Queen.

This is me and some of my favorite girls. That one all the way on the right? Yea, she's my uber favorite. But genetics has a way of doing that to you. That's my sista.

Me and Crusty. He wanted to be a ghostbuster, but we just couldn't find a costume in his size...

And here's my family; my mama, me, my littler and older sister and my daddy. Haha. :-)

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Have you ever seen The Crow?

It was one of my favorite movies during my angsty teenage years; bested only by Bride of Chucky. I guess lovey dovey movies just weren't up my alley.

But more importantly, one of the most famous lines in the movie is: "It can't rain all the time". I try to keep that in mind while I attempt to survive what feels like a permanent state of precipitation around here; check this out.

Short story: I work in a building that is made entirely of glass. It's torturous, really. When it's beautiful out you are forced to stare through the dim glass at the gorgeous day. When it's gross out all you can do is hear the nasty weather encroach on your work space while the entire office exists in a dim realm of fluorescent light.

Today I heard a girl say, "days like this make me glad I don't have a window at my desk".

And all of this rain makes me long for days like this one:

This picture was taken of me and the Boyfriend at two very dear friend of mine's wedding, in August, in 95+ degree weather, while I was trying to survive one of the worst hangovers of my life.

And I'd still rather be there than here.

Talk About A Stalemate

What happens when you put a working class, liberal minded, peace loving "hippie" under the same roof as a privileged, upper-middle class, self-declared "hillbilly"?

I'm not entirely sure, but you are welcome to stop by my house anytime to find out.

The Boyfriend and I have strategically avoided the words "health", "care" and any combination of the two ever since Obama became president. We didn't even discuss the election. Whoa-ho, no way! When we do dare to discuss "politics", we practically end up on the ground, pulling each others hair out and yelling, "nu uh, YOU'RE wrong". It's not a pretty scene.

But last night, oh ho, last night, we made the hideous mistake of talking about health care. And to premise this, I will tell you that I avoid talking about politics completely. I handle politics like a chameleon; the topic comes up and I do my best to blend into the background so no one preys on me. Why you ask? It's not that I'm weak minded, it's not that I don't have opinions, it's simply that I don't care to ARGUE my opinions to others.

"To each their own".

Now the Boyfriend on the other hand, oh!, he LOVES to argue. He's incredibly head strong and he loves to try and prove people wrong. He'll never admit it, but I catch him making up "facts" sometimes just so he can try to validate his arguments. The humorous part of this is that he's never actually trying to convince anyone to agree with him, no no, he'd much rather just yell that his point of view is right.

You could even say, "I totally agree with you", and he'd still be saying, "You don't even understand what I'm saying..."

Thereby, our arguments normally last about 5 minutes. He argues, I back down, he keeps arguing, I end the argument by proving that his "fact" is wrong. He hates that. Right after that, our fight enters a total stalemate.

I don't like to argue, but when I'm challenged I don't back down, not for anything. Not even chocolate... or coffee...

Point being; I spent last evening in the family room with the old TV, a glass of wine and the fat cat. He spent the evening in the living room with "his" flat screen and our new puppy. Talk about a division of the sexes.

In summation, I have no urge to continue this argument with the Boyfriend and I recognize that neither of us will ever apologize for it, BUT if me, Harry, or MJ are subjected to listening to Fox news any longer the three of us will be moving to the barn.

Did you hear that Andrew?

Weekly Bulletin

The weather this past weekend was absolutely gorgeous. We barbecued on our deck for two days straight. I drank beer, watched the Boyfriend use the new grill, played ladder ball and simply enjoyed the happiness that comes from smelling a flower for the first time after months of living underneath the ice.

Falling Apart

Two days ago I was stamping some contracts at work. And just in case you're wondering, no, that is not the only thing I do at work. Alas, I realized that my right thumb was aching and every once in a while this shooting pain would zing up my arm and I'd be rendered immobile for about 3 seconds. Damn me for not being left handed.

Yesterday it got much worse. It was throbbing. It felt like there was a stream of fire running from my thumb to my elbow and as much as I massaged it or held it or prayed to Venus, nothing seemed to work. So someone tells me that it sounds like I have "carpal tunnel" to which I respond, "isn't that for old people?" to which they respond, "I have carpal tunnel" to which I then felt like a dumbass.

Plus I realized that I'm not that young anymore and that TOTALLY sucked.

So me being my hypochondriacal self, I decided to book an appointment with the family doc, for that night, because for real... I may have been having a stroke... you never know! Thereby, the Boyfriend and I decide to make an adventure out of it. The weather here has been beautiful so we went to one of our favorite, more pricey restaurants and I melted into my tuna burger and a glass of Riesling.

When it came time for my doctor visit I made the Boyfriend go in with me. If I was having a stroke I needed support. My doctor also finds me pretty amusing. I don't think that is a good sign. So she messes with my hand a bit and goes, "I know what this is". And then we go through the whole "does this hurt?"", "does it hurt when I do this?".

But here's the issue, it didn't hurt. So I confess, I say "I drank a glass of wine with dinner! Do you think that would make it not hurt?!?"

She laughs again. Hmm.

Then she puts her pen on her desk and looks at me and goes, "You have tendinitis of the thumb". I'm like "whaaaat?". Then she explains that most people get it from, get this, texting! I knew it! I knew texting was a horrible, horrible advance in technology. I held out on doing it for sooo long. Then that new phone just lulled me into a false sense of security with it's fancy keyboard and BOOM! I have tendinitis.

I am thinking...

What am I thinking?

I'm thinking I am 26 and I have tendinitis... of the thumb.

I also get to wear a sexy thumb brace. Google that. Be jealous.

I Need You, Please Come Home

For those of you who don't know, I currently drive a two door Ford Explorer which I "won" in a very fair trade with my Papa. He took my Hyundai, I took the four wheel drive. The problem is that I've become so accustomed to driving my tank that I honestly can't drive another car without catastrophe. I know you're thinking "an Explorer isn't a tank". But it IS, you see, it's MY tank and I need it! So of course, what happens? It breaks... and now I'm going to have to fork over $800 to recover my tank from this hostage situation called "repairs"! Geek me out, say what?

In the meantime I'm driving the Boyfriend's old school Thunderbird which, by the way, is covered in Jimmy Buffet stickers. But more than the parrot head issues, his bright green sports car makes me feel like I should be in a White Snake video. Yesterday I even felt pretty sexy driving around in it with my sunglasses on, my hair whipping in the wind and Metallica blasting on 94.1. That is, of course, until I tried to GET OUT of the very short sports car, tripped over myself, slammed the door into my side/foot/arm and got my hair caught in the door.

My rantings in the Saladworks parking lot may have scarred innocent children. Tall women should stay away from low to the ground sports cars. But in all seriousness thank goodness for coffee. It is the defining factor that maintains my role as a member of the working class instead of becoming a member of the sleep-until-noon class or the I'm-so-embarrassed-I'm-going-home-and-hiding-under-the-covers class. Good thing for me I'm not prone to embarrassment anymore due to years of overexposure to the feeling.

On a positive note: My sister bought me these outrageously purple flats for my birthday in December. I'm in love. Thanks Shawnie! xoxo.

I also made a meatloaf the other night during the "snowicane" and wanted to share my recipe with you. I love meatloaf. I love meatloaf. I love meatloaf. Ok, I think you get the point. This recipe is fast, easy and delicious. It also makes the Boyfriend extremely happy.

Meatloaf

Ingredients:

1 Pound Meatloaf Mix (can use Ground Beef or Ground Turkey, or a combination of the two)

1 Egg

1/4 Cup Yellow Onion (finely chopped)

1/4 Cup Plain Bread Crumbs

1/2 Can Cream of Mushroom Soup

1 Garlic Clove (finely chopped)

Worcestershire Sauce (To Taste)

Salt (To Taste)

Pepper (To Taste)

You will need:

Medium Size Bowl (for mixing)

One Loaf Pan (as seen in the second photo below)

Additionally:

Don't forget the ketchup! In my Mama's house we always had Meatloaf with mashed potatoes and peas. If you ask me, this is still the best combination.

Directions:

1.) Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and pour yourself a glass of wine.

2.) Combine all ingredients in a Medium Size Bowl. (as seen below)

3.) Mash the ingredients all together. I use my hands. You can use a spoon if that concept freaks you out.

4.) Pour now combined mixture into a Loaf Pan and level it out with your hands (or a spoon, wimp). You'll want to shape it to fit into the corners of the pan. (as seen below)


5.) Place the Meatloaf in the oven on the medium rack for about 30 minutes. The time depends entirely on the oven. You'll want your meatloaf to be golden brown on top with no sign of pink. Another thing to note is whether the edges seems crispy and the middle doesn't look like mush. Just sayin...

6.) Relax, you have a half an hour. Drink some wine. Watch TV. Call your girlfriend and tell her how awesome you are. Girls love that.

7.) Once the Meatloaf is ready, pull it out of the oven, let it cool and grab your ketchup.

8.) Enjoy!

This is my idea of what Meatloaf dinner looks like:

The Many Faces Of Us

The Boyfriend and I spent some time with the camera today....

And he tried to lick my eye.So I tried to eat his face.

And then he had just about enough of taking photos...So either/or we hope you enjoy your Sunday as much as we did.

XOXO

What Happens When It Snows

So when you have weather like this:

...you run the risk of becoming a sneezy, clogged-up bobblehead. Which is exactly what I have become. I also blame my stubborn need to prove my female independence for giving me the great idea to shovel the walkways in my pajama pants; hence proving that if the Boyfriend wouldn't shovel that I could so totally do it without him. I had hoped to make him feel guilty, instead I gave myself the sniffles.

Did you ever see that Nyquil commercial where they are out camping and the guy takes the Nyquil and wakes up all happy and raring to go? Well! They don't lie. It wasn't until about 20 minutes ago that I started to get my itchy watery eye action back. But, thank everything for those 4 hours of freedom I still had leftover this morning... I love you Nyquil. XoXo.

Happy Valentine's Day

Let me tell you, you will never meet another man who loves his asparagus pee more than my Boyfriend. He's been laughing all morning. He's also currently making me chocolate chip pancakes and singing "I wish I was an Oscar Meyer weiner..."

Here are some pics of our adventures to Shula's 347 last night (AMAZING! I highly recommend going):

SO! Happy Valentine's Day! I hope you enjoy yours as much as I've enjoyed mine, xoxo.

Late Night Rantings Of A Buzzed Mind

Dear Boyfriend,

I never realize how much I want you until I know you're not here. You've been out plowing since 4 a.m (one of the qualities I adore the most about you). I woke up alone, I drank coffee alone, I watched the news alone... and for some reason... it just wasn't the same. I cherish you for your hard work, but God help me... I miss you.

I brought in wood for the fire 6 times today all by myself. If you'd have been here you would have smiled with pride. You'd have laughed at me for being determined to prove my independence and you'd have grinned at me as I dropped the stack of wood on my foot and proceeded to curse loud enough for New Jersey to hear.

The power went out at least 8 times since you've been gone. Luckily for me it always came back on within three minutes. I counted. I wished you were here to set up a back up generator (or whatever you say when you tell me how we get power in case of emergency). However, I set up candles in all the important places and I kept the fire roaring in case I needed a surge of light. Thank you for teaching my spoiled suburban ass how to fend for myself.

You make me laugh. Even when I'm mad at you. I guess that's one of the reasons I love you the most. Your unfailing sense of making things right, even it means admitting that you're wrong (which we both know I'm not good at). You have a way of bringing out my obstinate side. I think it amuses you. I love the way you smirk at me when you know you're right. You should do that more often.

Yvonne and Mya just left. It makes a girl understand the meaning of being a woman. We wait patiently for you to arrive home, knowing that you're out working your ass off while also knowing that we so wish you were here to help us build snowmen and to find the candles when the power goes out and to shovel the walkway, you know... the "regular" things. I guess we just have to sigh knowing that we fell for men who know how to use their hands; NOT a bad thing.

I just want you to know that despite my lack of appreciation for you and my stubbornness on proving how I'm always right all the time (which I'm not... but which I'll also never admit again so make sure you print this), I love you. I love you for everything you are; from your steady temperament that so contrasts my own to the army boots you lay strewn throughout our home. I love you... and I can't wait for you to come home.

All my love,
K

P.S. I watched an episode of Lost without you, woops ;-)

You're Still Here?

Tomorrow is the Boyfriend and I's two year anniversary. Yes, two years... two years of dirty clothes next to the bed, two years of having to cook dinner every night and almost two years to the day that I lost control of everything electronic in the house. SO! here we are, after two years of arguing and making up, of learning what buttons to push and when NOT to push them, after breaking up and getting back together and doing that a few more times only to finally realize we're stuck to each other like glue. But! it has been two years of pretty damn good times; of dinner dates and couch cuddling, of loving how his work boots lie around the house, of having him as my best friend who listens to all my nonsense, of learning to accept each other (we're still working on that), of learning how to share our space together, and last, but not least, it has been two years of getting to watch my blond-haired, red-bearded man with that fabulous, fabulous butt of his become a better man every day. Two years and I still love him; I guess I always will.

Lost and Found

So I finally found that elusive camera charger. I even found the cable connection for the computer! Rock on. So now I can finally post some of my Christmas pictures that I forgot about and now you can all see the projects I enlist my Boyfriend to do with me. This is what he gets when I don't have kids to play with. Oh you can also see the lovely ornament I bought him for Christmas. I guess you know you're keeping someone around when they get a spot on the fake Christmas tree and a stocking all their own. Woo hoo.

P.S. This officially marks the last time we will have Christmas in our teensy tinsey apartment. Next year we might even go so far as to get a real Christmas tree. Whoa.

I Realized It Was Cruel and I Did It Anyway

I love children... especially children that belong to other people and even more especially when that person is my sister. The reason for this is that most other people wouldn't allow me to continue to answer the "why?" questions from a 3 year old with answers like "the sky IS purple on Tuesdays, you're just not paying attention". "But...why?". "Oh, that's because on Tuesdays eggplants float". However, when you test fate, fate gets you back and although my sister is ordinarily a sweet, kind and loving sort of person (yes, we are related) she has her own ways of getting back at me.

It all began around July. My sister was trying to teach my eldest niece, we shall call her Princess Superior, about respecting who's in charge. In order to relay this, she would inform Princess Superior that Mommy was the boss of her and Mom-Mom was the boss of Mommy and so on and so forth. One day I walk into my Mom's house and my niece comes running up to me, puts her hand on her hip, shakes her finger at me like a scolding school teacher and goes "Aunt Kelly, I'm the boss of YOU!!!". You can envision the fits of laughter that then raged from my sister and my Mom at the glory of paying me back for years of my own overbearing behavior.

Now it's been two months and Princess Superior is holding true; she's my boss and she's not backing down. My sister tries to explain to Princess Superior that she needs to listen to her Aunt Kelly and Princess Superior looks at her like "are you f*n kidding me? I'm her f*n boss Mom..". So on my last babysitting adventure I tried to stem a deal about how many books we were going to read before bed. This is how it went:

Me: "We'll read one book, how's that? You can make it a looooong book"

Princess Superior: "How about two books? Two books is better"

Me: "One book, one loooooooong book"

Princess Superior: "Aunt Kelly, you know... that... I'm the boss of you"

Me: "I'm aware... and... I'm the boss of you" (just to try it on for size)

*She looks up at me, contemplates whether to barter for 2 books and wager her boss status, then shrugs her shoulders*

Princess Superior: "At least we're both the boss of someone"

We read two books and sang three songs...

Then Boyfriend came and I decided that after hours of having my eyes poked out with crowns and having to dress up as Sleeping Beauty only to have the Wicked Stepmother order me to clean the floor while prodding me with a "magic wand"...it was only fair... (my ONLY real regret is not having an actual camera around)

Don't Even Ask Me To Bake

Last night was one of those nights where the boy had to work late. Now nights like these make me uber happy, so happy that I even had the bubbly urge to stop at the neighbors "produce stand" and pick up some greenery (since greenery is good for you and all). Four peppers later, I was on my way home with stuffed peppers on my mind and a hard on for some cheesy, greasy, ricey goodness.

So there I am, a glass of red wine in one hand, a bottle of Worcestershire in the other and I'm stoked; stoked that the kitchen is all MINE and stoked that I'm doing something nice (me? nice? We'll need proof of that m'am...) Well, Boyfriend comes in and lights up. You would have thought that he came in to find me laying around in a Princess Leia costume, calling him Jabba and asking that he spank me repeatedly with a stick of sausage. But no... alas, that's not where this story is headed.

We sit down for dinner:

Me: "Aren't you a lucky man? You come home from a hard day of work and you get to sit down to a fabulously prepared meal"

Boyfriend: "I know, its wonderful! You know... when we first started dating you used to cook dinner for me almost every night"

Me: "....THAT is because I was competing with your mother...."


My Recipe for Stuffed Peppers:

Ingredients:
4 Peppers
1-1 1/2 Pounds Ground Beef (I prefer 80/20, but to each their own)
1/2 of a Large Yellow Onion (finely chopped)
2 Cloves Fresh Garlic (finely chopped)
1 Can Diced Tomatoes
1/2 Cup Rice (not instant: must be the hardcore do-it-yourself kind)
1/2 Cup Water
Shredded Cheddar Cheese
Worcestershire Sauce (To Taste)
Salt (To Taste)
Pepper (To Taste)

1. Cut the heads off the peppers and remove the guts. Place peppers in a pot of boiling water (Note: to make this easier on yourself make sure that as much of the peppers are submerged as possible)

2. In a medium frying pan (must have a lid! don't get caught lidless), combine the Ground Beef, Onion, Garlic and Worcestershire Sauce.

3. Once the meat is browned and smells yummy, take off the burner, drain some of the grease (not all) and add the Diced Tomatoes, Rice, Water and more Worcestershire sauce.
Important Note: Make sure that all the rice is submerged in the liquid, you don't want to have crunchy rice stuck in your pepper or no one will like you)

4. Place the Meat/Rice Concoction back on the burner and bring to a boil. Once you reach a boil, turn the temperature down to Low, cover and leave alone.

5. You get a break now, go have a glass of wine and make sure you pre-heat the oven to 350.

6. Once the peppers can be pierced with a fork, but aren't too mushy, remove them from the pot and place in a casserole dish or on a cookie sheet or on tin foil (if you're desperate).

7. Sprinkle the inside of the peppers with salt and pepper.

8. During this time, you should check the Meat/Rice Concoction. By now, the rice should be fluffy, delicious and there shouldn't be much (if any) liquid left over. If the rice is crunchy, add more water and allow to simmer longer. If there is too much water, drain and simmer. If all is well, remove and combine the Meat/Rice Concoction with a half cup of Cheddar Cheese (you can add more cheese if you like, I do!)

9. Scoop the Meat/Rice Concoction into the peppers. Top off the peppers with more cheese and place in the oven. In about 15 minutes or until cheese is melted, remove the peppers and allow to cool.

1o. Eat, Enjoy, Have More Wine and/or Funny Conversations with your Boyfriend/Girlfriend/Lover/F*ck Buddy, etc..