Monday, February 28, 2005
Talked to HR about last year's and this year's vacation time, and whether I'd be reimbursed for holidays/vacation not used.
Emailed Corporate to inquire about the pension plan and whether I was fully vested in the pension plan. Corporate had some conflicting information as saying I'd been here only 4.5 years. Figures, right? Anyway... I celebrated my 5 year last June and marked my full time five year last week. That pension really would be great to have to help me float along a bit.
Talked to Fidelity about the plan of attack with my 401k once I'm Audi 5000.
Still have to go down to the unemployment office and fill out some paper work...
I am freaking out inside about my finances. Not exactly a good stress to have... but a great motivator for finding a job.
Wow. I can't believe this week is finally here... working to hold the waterworks in.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
bold the states you've been to, underline the states you've lived in and italicize the state you're in now...
Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / Arkansas / California / Colorado / Connecticut / Delaware / Florida / Georgia / Hawaii / Idaho / Illinois / Indiana / Iowa / Kansas / Kentucky / Louisiana / Maine / Maryland / Massachusetts / Michigan / Minnesota / Mississippi / Missouri / Montana / Nebraska / Nevada / New Hampshire / New Jersey / New Mexico / New York / North Carolina / North Dakota / Ohio / Oklahoma / Oregon / Pennsylvania / Rhode Island / South Carolina / South Dakota / Tennessee / Texas / Utah / Vermont / Virginia / Washington / West Virginia / Wisconsin / Wyoming / Washington D.C /
Go HERE to have a form generate the HTML for you.
Molly cracked her eyes open and saw him bundled up and lying on her side, the pair of them piled up like lincoln logs on top of the living room couch. She struggled to get herself free from the twist of quilts and chenille blankets, clumsy in that haze that's somewhere between REM and sobriety.
Steven leaned over and almost tumbled on top of the curvy blond, peering into her cloudy blue eyes. "What are you doing?" he boldly asked, wondering what was going on in that head of hers. She gave some sort of gratuitous answer, wanting to conceal her slumber and disinterest in the movie playing in the VCR.
She shifted and pulled away from his grip, but still, he clung on wanting to be next to her, wanting to feel the comfort of her. "I want to make you a happy girl." The innocence and sincerity of his statement made Molly smile.
Steven stood up and put his hands down his pants. Molly stared at the back of his head as he explored the biology of his being, shocked he would be so open about his stroking. He started pulling his track pants down a bit when Molly finally spoke up.
"Steven, don't do that."
Short and sweet, Molly did not want to make a big deal about his forwardness, trying instead to play it cool and calm. She really needed the money and his little ticks weren't enough to scare her away.
Forty bucks wasn't going to make a huge dent in her finances, but it would be enough for her to maybe cover her electricity bill and a few pints of cheap domestic beer at the local dive. Molly wasn't so public about her moonlighting gig, but as time marched on she started adding more clients to her calendar, a tidy list of customers all begging for her expert services.
Steven came back to the couch and begged to touch her. "C'mon, I want a hug," he exclaimed, throwing his arms out in initiation. Under similar circumstances, Molly hadn't really experienced as much affection. Usually she was the one doing all the kissing and hugging, trying to warm up the other party. But Steven was different. Molly put her own arms out and wrapped them around him, hugging tight and smiling at the endearing connection between the two.
Molly and Steven froze when they heard the garage door open. The two squeezed tight, knowing their time together was coming to an abrupt end.
Donna walked through the door, worn out and looking to put her feet up for the night. She stopped short and looked at the two in their tight embrace and kept on walking. That's just the way Steven is, Donna thought as the older woman walked to the kitchen table, fumbling through her purse.
Steven pulled away from Molly, awash in guilt after getting caught in a weak moment of affection with the younger, prettier woman. He pulled the blankets off him and rushed towards Donna with open arms and a smile meant to ask for forgiveness. The older woman rolled her eyes and looked back down at her satchel full of paper scraps, pens and tubes of lipstick. Steven threw his arms around her, holding on for dear life when Donna returned the embrace and then patted him on the rear end.
She shook her head as she pulled out two 20 dollar bills. "Go give these to your girlfriend," she whispered, looking at the young woman sprawled out on the couch, exhausted after the long night with Steven.
"Thanks for babysitting me," the four year old shouted as he jumped on top of Molly.
"You wear me out, Steven. But I'd do it any night of the week," she said, as she hugged the boy and said goodbye.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Marcia Cross on mans lap
Star Jones engagement ring
hour glass photo
Jen Scheft and hair (I can't tell you how many Jen Scheft-related hits I get)
SIX SMALL MEALS A DAY
Lexington Kentucky random musings
Oh wow. What a loaded question. What is it that Jack Nicholson said? "You can't handle the truth."
On that note, I'll have to say... a good scary movie, a terrifying rollercoaster (which I absolutely hate, by the way), or a good scare... kind of like this one.
Soup - Who is a musician you enjoy listening to when you want to relax?
So many choices. The list includes Dave Matthews, Billie Holliday, Rusted Root, Coldplay, Simon & Garfunkel, Sinatra, Bob Marley or some really good Bluegrass covers I have of U2 and The Eagles.
Salad - What was the last book you purchased?
It was either Great Expectations (my favorite book of all time... my mom gave away my copy to some high school kid on our street, so I needed to get another) or The Taming Of The Shrew. Coincidence that The Shrew is Kate? Hmm.
Main Course - If you could live one day as any historical figure, who would it be, and what would you do?
Oh wow. So many choices. I could be Jackie and take the bullet for perhaps the greatest president of all time. I could be Eva Braun and take out one of the greatest menaces to human life. I would choose to be someone who could alter history for the greater good.
Dessert - Tell about a time when you were lost. Where did you end up? How long did it take you to get back to where you were going?
I can't really remember ever being lost. I have this weird sixth sense thing I get from my dad: I really don't get lost. I have a great sense of direction and usually can find my way back to wherever I'm headed.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
I say God because I'd hate to give Al Gore any of the credit.
But I digress.
The WWW is a veritable playground for grownups and kids alike, I guess it just depends on what kind of sandbox you want to get dirty in.
Me? I like the kind of thing that makes me laugh and go hmmmmm.
This guy has made the rounds, but I only saw these guys just today, and it seems even some classrooms are studying the art of this guy's dancing talents.
This blog is researching an interesting phenomenon involving our Commander in Chief.
What's that policy? Don't ask, don't tell??
And speaking of "don't tell," Adam Sandler has way too much time on his hands.
Earlier I had talked about how ghetto my old cellie was, what with super glue holding the hinges together.
My new phone is lightyears more advanced than my old cell, and now I've become addicted to matching special songs to special people.
My family was my first assignment; finding a ring tone that could be all encompassing for my late 50s parents, my 18 year old sister, my 25 year old sister and her husband. I settled on the one song I am adamant about dancing with my sisters to on my wedding day whenever that is: We Are Family by Sister Sledge.
My ears are filled up (and for that matter, the ears of anyone around me) with the Charlie's Angels theme song whenever my two best friends (the Honorary Big Sis and the #1 Gal Pal) call me.
Cute, ain't it?
Hmm, I think I might be Farah
My standard ring tone is an homage to my Alma Mater, the fine University of Kentucky. Go Big Blue!!
My other close friends tip me off when they ring because I hear the dope beats of Fitty Cent's In Da Club. What can I say? I love to dance, and that song makes me wanna shake my moneymaker. I imagine I am quite a sight when I start bustin' a move in the middle of Kroger's produce section.
My (ex?) New Boyfriend is about to be ousted from his very own ring tone: Kelis' Milkshake song, 'cause yes, MY milkeshake does bring all the boys to the yard.
Whatever that means.
I just added to my downloaded ringer collection yesterday. I am so excited about the newest addition, too. From now on, whenever my scheduler is warning me about time creeping up on a scheduled event, I'll hear the theme song to Knight Rider.
If only Kit came as part of the download deal.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
I started crying during my show today. One down, seven more to go at the fine confines of Newschannel/On Your Side/NewsChannel yes there's a difference with the Other Newschannel/Action News (we've been through so many brands it's sometimes hard for me to remember).
The sad, melancholy longing for the days of old crashed head on into the hopping, zia-a-dee-doo-dah, skip in my step kind of mood I've been in all morning long, fresh from my interview in the town where pigs fly.
It's true what they say; when one door closes, another one opens... it's just hard to take those steps across the threshold into the unknown.
Ah well, on to bigger and better things. Literally.
The day trip to Cincinnati proved to be awesome. The folks up there were the example of kindness and professionalism, taking a good look at my tape (resume tape, that is) and offering both constructive criticism and appropriate praise: two things I really get off on at work. I'd met the news director two and a half years ago, and so it was nice to refresh his memory on what I've been doing and where I want to go professionally and personally.
For those of you that don't know much about The Nati, it's the nation's 33rd largest television market, with New York checking it at #1 and Glendive, Montana scraping the bottom of the barrel at #210. Cincinnati's sandwiched between Milwaukee and Columbus, 32 and 34 respectively. My current home of Lexington is ranked at 64, so the move across The River would be a good climb, professionally.
The station's tricked out, too. New graphics package, live trucks, photogs and reporters galore, a huge news hole (meaning lots of shows with lots of needed producers) and a strong viewer following. It's the flagship station for a huge media corporation that's better known for it's radio and billboard endeavors (that was a hint, if you're looking for one) so it's safe to say it has a nice fat cat budget to work with.
A budget that I want a piece of ;)
The gig would be either producing the weekends (full time job but with three days off a week M/T/W) or an hour of their three hour morning show. That shift would be M-F but I'd go to work around 11:00 pm. Not so keen about the Graveyard Shift, I must say, it's not very conducive to meeting people in my book.
But I digress.
I don't know. I totally believe in serendipity, so my freaky chakra side was going berserk inside me during the interview. I headed out of there with a handshake and the word from the News Director that he'd be calling Wednesday or Thursday. Woo hoo.
I drove over to this hip part of town that's, like, a mile away called Mount Adams. It's high on a hill duh with all kinds of cool bars, restaurants and the city's highly acclaimed art museum. Mt. Adams embodies all things bohemian, and plus it's got the coolest Catholic church in Cincinnati. I immediately drove over there (to kill time until my friend got out of his show) to look for hip spots to live, some with spectacular views and other closely situated to all the nightlife.
My friend Dermonte (I like to use fake names to protect the innocent) got out of his show and kindly gave me the rest of the night. We tooled around the hot spots to live before we stopped in this restaurant with the most kick ass burgers (bleu cheese, bacon, sauteed onions/peppers/mushrooms on mine).
I am so ready to pack my bags. I mean, really. Those burgers sealed the deal, folks.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Monday, February 21, 2005
Not so much my long term destiny, but more like the immediate destiny involving my in-limbo professional status.
And it would involve living in a van down by the river.
Okay, so I'm kidding about that part... well except for the moving by the river thing.
I ran into an old group of friends Saturday night quite by chance. If I hadn't been alone in a downtown bar at 1:15 in the morning... then I wouldn't have heard about this particular job opening.
I ran down to McCarthy's to meet up with some coworkers late Saturday night. A friend of mine and I were already wrapping up a late midnight dinner at Applebee's when we decided to race downtown to catch up with some guys from work. We went in separate cars, so I had to wade through the crowd all by myself to find my peeps. This particular bar is a multi bar spread that's always packed to the gills with Irish folks, artsy fartsy people and other casual drinkers.
Well, I searched high and low for my friends, but I couldn't find them. What I did find was far more surprising.
This bar, McCarthy's, used to be my hangout years ago when I was a younger girl hanging out nightly with a motley crew of Tee Vee people. We were a tight knit bunch, spending all our time together in and out of work. Relationships were made and broken within the little clan, but no matter what happened we were all resolved to hang tight at McCarthy's and Rosebud, our other favorite watering hole.
Well, people change and so do their vocations. Some folks moved on to other stations in other states, others (like my at-the-time best friend T-homas) got out and went to Law School. Still others stayed in Lexington and got out of the business. We all stayed close for a while, but after time we meandered away from the group.
My distancing involved a bit of drama I won't go through now, but it's that drama that led me to not speak to these very people whom at one time I used to cry for, I cared for them so much.
Anyway. Flash forward almost two years, and there I am standing in McCarthy's, at 1:15 in the morning, staring T-homas right in the face. I gasped, knowing full well I'd come to this day in time... seeing him in a random spot. I was pleased with how well we received each other... hugs all around from all the guys there. Guys I'd kissed, guys I'd crushed on, guys who'd crushed on me.
One of those guys is a producer in Cincinnati. He was always one of the funny ones of the bunch... a bit funny because of the things he'd say, a bit funny because of the things he'd do. We used to be tight way back, and suddenly it was like old times all over again. He was asking me where I was... what I was doing... when we suddenly realized we had something in common.
I was looking for a job, and he was looking to fill a producer position.
This guy isn't management in Cincinnati, but he told me he's tight with the people who count up there. My friend told me the opening was for the Weekend gig, meaning I'd only work four days a week (which is a vast improvement from the beast-of-a-five-day-week most stations schedule for their weekend producers), I'd likely get a 10 thousand dollar pay raise and the contract would only be for two years.
So far I'm not seeing any problems with this job.
The position's at the city's number one affiliate (meaning good ratings, good money, good morale), which is owned by a huge media conglomerate that made mad money last year. Reading between the lines, my friend told me I could pretty much get any salary (within reason) I wanted. He also divulged that this station puts family first, a huge plus in my book.
I asked my friend what his finder's fee was, and he said, "Just another cool friend to hang out with. As long as you want to hang out with me..."
That one sentence melted any hurt feelings I had, any embarrassment I may have had about the huge drama I vaguely mentioned.
Earlier on this blog I know I've talked about how God has a plan for me, and I'm just unsure what that plan is. I know I have to be patient because He'll reveal his plan to me at the most unexpected time.
Well, folks, I think He just may have revealed that plan at McCarthy's Saturday night.
And now, I'm anxious to pack my bags and head back to Censor Nasty, the city I grew up in.
Friday, February 18, 2005
I should have known from the start the night was in for a bumpy ride when you responded "I'm tired" to my "How are you doing?".
It wasn't a greeting I usually receive from other dinner hosts.
I tried to let it slide, instead putting the two bottles of wine I brought over (a Bogle Merlot and a Mondavi Pinot Grigio) the homemade chocolate cheesecake and several dozen chocolate chip cookies. I understand that you were too busy cooking dinner to offer to help take a load off my arms, and I'll even forgive your ill manners in forgetting to ask to take my coat. The back of the dinner chair was just fine, thank you.
I was, I have to admit, rather impressed with your cooking skills. The sauteed shrimp were fabulous and the farfale pasta with the bleu cheese and asparagus was great, though next time I'd go a little bit more light handed on the cheese, and try steaming or blanching the asparagus instead of putting them in raw. A little tenderness goes a long way, and I suppose that's a lesson we both learned last night.
But I digress.
You bowled me over with your baked pasta dish with the crab stuffing. I am rather fond of spicy things, edible or otherwise, so you hit my fun spot with THAT dish, and it went perfectly with the Pinot. I also liked your grandmother's pound cake recipe. A true pound of butter and sugar, you say? Wow. I hadn't had strawberry shortcake in a long time, so dessert was a special treat.
The "Italian dinner" soundtrack in the background was a very endearing touch. I never thought I'd ever dine to the soundtrack of The Godfather. It actually was a great piece of ambiance that quite tickled me. Thanks for that. The rushing to the couch at the start of Survivor though, not so much a fan of that.
I mean, really. You'd rather watch Survivor than talk to me? I've heard that song "A little less talk and a lot more action," but come on, there was way more action going on that island in the Pacific than there was on your couch last night.
Team Palau 1 - Guy in Lexington, Kentucky Zip.
I also wasn't too keen on the whole leaning your body in the complete and utter opposite direction as mine while sitting on the couch. I don't have any contagious diseases, and if I did, well I'm fairly certain you would have caught them when we were swimming together in the hot tub Wednesday night. Last I recall it was YOU jamming your tongue down my throat. But these are the little details, right?
Back to the whole leaning away thing.
I don't know if you were trying to hide your little blanky, tucked in deep beneath the cushion and the arm of the couch, maybe you were having a back spasm and felt the need to stretch and contort yourself in a certain direction, but still, if that's the case you would have taken me up on my offer for a back rub.
Do you get now just how much I didn't like the leaning away thing?
The nail in the coffin last night was your emotional unresponsiveness when I chose to press the envelope and lean against you. Normally you initiate such behavior, I decided I'd check to see what kind of response I'd get on my own. Your lack of response was sign enough for me, buddy.
Pulling away, I started planning my escape.
Would I bow out at the next commercial break? Would I wait to see if you'd warm up during the casual, boob tube watching? So many thoughts and questions running through my mind. I decided it was time to call it a night when you seemed far more engrossed in Michael Jackson's secret life than you did my own.
Did I surprise you when I got up to put my coat on? It was the perfect punctuation to your feigned yawn and stretch at the start of a commercial break. A day later a friend tells me this is sometimes the M.O. for a guy trying to get a girl to the bedroom. I have to say I'd disagree where you're concerned.
You are a man of mystery, my friend. You say you want a girlfriend. Then act like it. I am a woman men stare at. I am a women other chicks envy. I'm smart, sexy, talented in many respects and hard working. I have a strong connection with God and love to cook. I follow the brackets every March and I drive a stick shift. Any man would be lucky to date me, so I ask you this: Do you still want a girlfriend, or perhaps you only want a bad girlfriend? Because I am the kind of woman who could make all your dreams come true, as long as you play your cards right.
And by the looks of it, your hand is pretty shitty.
Thanks for the apologetic text message today. Haven't responded yet, and I'm not quite sure when I will. I'm very busy and my opposable thumbs hurt something awful so I'm not in any position to get back with you at this point.
I've had a great day, thanks for asking.
I slept in and went to the gym with a good friend. Today I spent quite a bit of time working on my arms and legs, and the other fine looking gentlemen in the gym took notice, I must say.
Spent some time at the mall and hit The Gap up during sale time. Got two cute tops and a sweet pair of jeans. No, I don't think they'll be spending time on your floor any time soon.
I also got a haircut and highlight.
Blonde. Kate Blonde.
Since you're not worldly in the ways of women, let me just tell you, there are few things more magical than a girl's time spent in a salon. Those few brief hours invigorate and infuse her with the most incredible energy, confidence and sex appeal.
Needless to say, I won't be wasting any of this magic on you.
I'll be out tonight, so please don't bother to call me. The club is really loud and so I won't be hearing my phone ring. And well... it's not worth putting it on vibrate either, because that would just excite my dance partner too much.
So cheers, have a great time looking for a shitty girlfriend. I haven't completely written you off because you do have a few redeeming qualities, but I have to admit you'll be getting quite the cold shoulder, so you'll have to work overtime to turn things around.
If that doesn't happen, then cheers, I wish you the best.
Kate the Great
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Seeing as I don't have a television, I squeek in any time I can get with Paula, Rachael and the rest of that crazy gang while babysitting, at the gym and at work.
This woman can cook mm-mm goooood.
It's kind of crazy: me working out like a mean bitch on the elliptical trainer while watching Paula make her incredible Savannah "Tiramisu."
The culinary juices started flowing in my own kitchen this week, with Stuffed Chicken Breasts, Pork Chops, Gourmet Chicken Salad, Chocolate Cheesecake and two different kinds of chocolate chip cookies all making the menu.
If I could do it all over again, I'd probably encourage my cooking tendencies by attending cooking school. It's a professional endeavor I imagine I'd be fairly successful at, but by this point I think it's too late to completely switch careers mid-stream. I've got too much experience in television news to completely bail on my skills and connections for some one on one time with a Kitchen Aid Mixer (which is the number one item I want when I get married someday. The Artisan series kicks ass).
My fascination with food started early. I remember being a young girl, a huge denim apron draping over me with little bits of flour on my cheeks and in my sandy blond hair, helping my mom make Christmas cookies. I thought I was so special when she would ask me to make the orange juice for our weekend breakfasts. Little did I know the task of emptying a frozen container of orange juice and adding two and a half portions of water did not constitute cooking. It did in my little 10 year old world.
Some years later for a high school World History class, I volunteered to bake a Sacher torte for the class. We were doing segment on Pre WWII Europe, with each of us bringing in various foods or items symbolizing our respective countries. I chose to represent Austria, wanting to recreate the decadent chocolate and apricot cake I enjoyed at the Hotel Sacher while traveling there as a kid.
One of the most luxurious hotels in all of Europe
Needless to say, my mother was less than thrilled I volunteered to tackle the not-so-small task, of course with her help.
Even now I live whole fantasies out through food.
I like to take a mental trip to Italy every once and a while by whipping up my mom's Pasta Carbonara recipe. Other times I like to pretend I'm in England, preparing for a very high society tea with my shortbread cookies.
Hey, there's nothing wrong with a little fantasy, right?
Other times I don that cute little apron of mine and cook naked. Not Jamie Oliver naked, but really naked. I know it sounds bizarre, but It's a luxury that can only be enjoyed by a single person, seeing as any spouse or children in the house would consider it entirely too bizarre, quickly prompting a call to Family Services. Me? I like cooking naked sometimes because the process is so artistic. I love taking a whole bunch of raw ingredients and turning them into something so savory, so beautiful tasting. I guess cooking makes me feel beautiful, which is a great way to feel when you're naked and 15 pounds overweight.
Naked or not, I rely on a whole shoebox of recipes I've collected over the years. Some are hand scrawled by my mom (those include Derby Pie, Burt's Marinade and her fabulous scone recipe), others are in my handwriting, jotted down during panicked calls home Mom, how do I make your Banana Bread? Mom, how do I make your No-Flip Oven Pancake?
Still other recipes are clipped out from newspapers, magazines and boxes.
Today I'm looking forward to enjoying the fruits of someone else's culinary labor: my New Boyfriend is cooking dinner for me tonight. All I know is the menu includes seafood and bleu cheese, both on my list of favorite things.
And yes, I'm sure we'll be cooking naked, food or not.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
I have my first officers meeting today and I'm wondering this: just what kinds of social activities do I want to bring to the table?
Not quite what I have in mind...
I've been an active member in this particular group for three and a half years now. It's a great Catholic study with a good mix of ages ranging between 18 and 40. Being that we're Catholic, we love drinking and gambling (I'm playing on stereotypes here, but I also happen to be telling the truth) and so our social events are sometimes a bit more, uh, spicy than your average bible study outing.
We've toured bourbon distilleries (Maker's Mark, to be exact. Micah, eat your heart out) and have even trekked to a bourbon festival. We go to the horse races at the beautiful Keeneland Race Course every meet (April and October). We always make a day cheering on the local single A baseball team and we usually like to hit the ice skating rink in Winter.
Bowling. Done it. Golf. Done it (scramble style, and my foursome was awful but we gave it the college try). We've been to Shakespeare in the Park, Mammoth Cave, and the Cincinnati Art Museum. We've done all kinds of things, so I'm feeling a bit of pressure to bring something that's outside of the box.
Being that I'm one of the more social folks in the group (it is a bible study, after all, not a rave club), I think the other members suspect I will be bringing a few more creative, non-traditional social events to the group.
This Fall I tested my creativity by organizing a fresh, new activity for the group; we did a local version of The Amazing Race, prompting teams to visit some of the historic and scenic spots around Lexington.
Now I'm wracking my brain (and appealing to all y'all) for a few other ideas. Right now I've come up with a Wine Tasting idea and then maybe a Murder Mystery dinner.
I'd love to hear any suggestions for social events that could be enjoyed for a group between 10 and 25 people...
So, Pink Poppy asked how my Valentine's Day went.
Ugh. It was a bit uneventful, I'm afraid.
For those of you closely following (or maybe more casually following) my little romance, you may be interested to know I spent the year's most romantic holiday alone.
It wasn't a circumstance I was totally angst ridden with, considering we're only days away from being a month into this thing. I will say though, the amorous Valentine's Day visions whirling around in my noggin' were certainly a bit more, um, amorous than my reality.
Last week I was fortunate enough to see New Boyfriend three days in a row (three days in a row!) He opted to come out, despite complete exhaustion, on Mardi Gras. The following day he took me to a movie, and then last Thursday he invited me over to watch a movie (The Goonies complimented by a great bottle of Merlot by Pepperwood Grove).
Heading into last weekend, a friend of mine firmly suggested I give New Boyfriend some space. My Honorary Big Sis said that while things were coming along swimmingly, the gent might need a bit room to adjust to spending so much time to someone as incredible and stunningly gorgeous as I.
So, Friday night I sent New Boyfriend a cute text message Everyone's Playing Tonight with a nice little picture of me out with a girlfriend:
Lindsay Lou and Moi
He replied by saying something to the effect of "Have fun, I'm going to hang with some friends I haven't seen in a while."
Not being the chick that steals guys from their wingmen, I was quite alright with that response, offering him a That's awesome. Have a great time!
I had great time for the rest of the night, and didn't really give New Boyfriend a second thought. Same thing goes for Saturday night, when I hit the town with my #1 Gal Pal with nary a text message sent or received.
Sunday New Boyfriend sent a Lovely weather we're having today message, followed by an exchange of trivial pleasantries by both parties before I put my phone down to paint my toenails (a really nice Merlot color).
Yesterday I was sweating things out on the elliptical trainer when I got a Happy Valentines! It's too bad our schedules are opposite. Right now I get out of work around 1:30 pm... and he goes to work around 2:00 pm, getting out at 11:30 pm.
I'm a little bit concerned about the lack of contact within the past few days. No phone calls, only text messages (though I concede that's how the kids are doing it these days), and I'm also bummed I didn't see him this weekend. But I keep reminding myself what Honorary Big Sis said, this guy might need a little bit of space. And the time apart is good for me to remember and enjoy my old friends whom I don't want to put on the back burner.
New Boyfriend and I have a dinner date Thursday, so until then I resolve to not call or text unless he prompts the conversation. It sounds so totally The Rules, but maybe he'll wonder what I'm doing with my time.
Hey, don't they say absence makes the heart grow fonder?
Monday, February 14, 2005
This post makes number three, inspired by the unusually giddy and amorous mood I'm in.
Here's a quiz you can take whether you're single or taken. It provides insights on the kind of person you are in relationships; I am a "brooder."
Check out my blirtatiousness!
Makes 22 dozen 1 1/2-inch cookies
This recipe makes a lot of cookies, but it can be halved, or you can freeze a portion of the dough for up to three weeks.
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
2 cups sugar
2 large eggs
4 2/3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup pale-pink or white sanding sugar(optional)
Petal dust in pink, orange, and violet tones(optional)
2/3 cup apricot or strawberry jam, slightly warmed (optional)
1. In bowl of electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream butter and sugar until fluffy, about 4 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each. Sift flour, baking soda, and salt into large bowl. On low speed, gradually add flour mixture to mixer bowl, alternating with buttermilk, until combined. Wrap dough in plastic; chill until firm, 1 hour or overnight.
2. To color white sanding sugar, if using: Place a few tablespoons in a small bowl. Mix in petal dust with a toothpick, a bit at a time, until desired shade is reached. Colored sanding sugar will last indefinitely.
3. Heat oven with two racks centered to 350º. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper. On lightly floured surface, roll chilled dough 1/8 inch thick. Cut out hearts using any 1- to 3 1/2-inch heart cookie cutters. If desired, cut centers out of some hearts. Transfer with spatula to baking sheets. Chill for 30 minutes. Sprinkle with sanding sugar, if using. Bake until just golden but not too brown, about 10 minutes. Transfer cookies to rack. Continue with dough; reroll scraps.
4. To make sandwich hearts: Brush bottom heart lightly with jam; cover with a second heart with center cut out; jam will adhere hearts. Fill cut-out area with more jam. Cookies will keep, in an airtight container, at room temperature for 1 week.
Friday, February 11, 2005
What do you want for Valentine's Day?
The reassurance that the stud I'm crushin' on is diggin' me back.
If you could change the color of something you own, what would it be and which color would you make it?
The only thing I can think of is this banana colored bridesmaid dress I have. The style is great (though I'd have it shortened to knee length) but the color is hideous. All the time I consider dying it black.
What's your favorite day of the week and why?
That's a toughie. Saturday isn't completely Banner because sometimes I spend a long 10 hours babysitting my two little monkeys. Sunday is great until about 9:00 PM when it hits me I have to go to work in the morning. Friday is good except for that whole being at work thing. Monday totally blows and Tuesday is sooooooo boring. Wednesday it's my weekly catch-up day with friends and Thursday is okay because I know Friday's around the corner. I guess I'd have to say Sunday is best because it's mine, all mine (pipe in evil witch laugh here).
What excuse do you use most often?
It's so lame... but I use work as an exuse. People are sometimes wrongly mystified with what I do for a living, so if I say I was working late it usually puts a stop to any further questions they may have about my tardiness/absense/disinterest/exhaustion/poverty or stress level.
Name something or someone you feel sorry for.
I feel very sorry for my parents. I strongly believe my father was the victim of age descrimination (among other things) at his previous employer. He lost his job over three years ago and was basically ushered into early retirement. Because of this... my parents are having to downsize and move to the Midwest. I'm thrilled they'll be much closer to me, but our little nuclear family is so sad to lose the family home. The house is so charming thanks to my mother's hard work to renevate what was once the worst house on the best street in town. Now the house is a showplace, and it will be very hard for all of us to part with it this summer.
But then again, there's always the Powerball lottery.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
I had two sick days left until the expiration of my contract (the agreement was extended a week, now wrapping up March 4th) and you can bet your bippy I was going to use 'em rather than lose 'em.
I slept in until the decadent hour of 9:00 (instigated by some late night Mardi Gras partying).
Me and my #1 Gal Pal on Mardi Gras
It felt so good to be swaddled in so many blankets with little bits of sunshine batting me in the face. So often these days I wake up in the pitch black of dawn, so yesterday was a nice way to affirm that I am, in fact, NOT a vampire.
I meandered my way out of said bed and staggered to the kitchen for an egg and a piece of toast, an Ash Wednesday sanctioned meal (two little meals and a big meal... with no snacking in between).
Then I decided to tackle my dishes.
I was struck by an almost fatal stench as I approached my sink. Mold in some containers, a cloudy, congealed susbtance on top of others, it was a rough disgusting job that had to be tackled. I had completely neglected my domestic duties for weeks, and I was suffering the smelly consequences of that avoidance. In only my underwear and an apron (cute apple and blueberry Crate & Barrel print), I filled the left side of my sink with hot water and suds. I felt SO Desperate Housewives.
After three hours of cleaning house, I had a bowl of Special K (Ash Wednesday sanctioned meal #2) before it was off to the gym.
I sweated like a mean bitch after some one-on-one time with the elliptical trainer (For Lent I am making a commitment to visit the gym every weekday), then I spent 17 minutes in the tanning bed. Who knew a little brown pigmentation could boost my spirits?
After some time in the shower, I raced to the movie theatre to catch Finding Neverland with my New Boyfriend. I highly recommend seeing an older released movie matinee. We did, though we opted against trying anything randy as A) I'm not that kind of girl and B) the movie was too good to be neglected.
A couple kisses goodbye and then I was off... headed for home to make some veggie pot pies with crust from scratch. Again, that cute little apron got some good wearing (this time with clothing underneath). I turned the oven off then set out for a 7:30 Ash Wednesday Mass, even though I hadn't been to church in three weeks.
Came back home when New Boyfriend text messaged me that he was done working on the menu for our Super Bowl Bet dinner (he lost, so now he's working on something with seafood and bleu cheese). It's amazing how text messaging can help a relationship flourish.
Not so much a super-fantastic-exciting kind of day... but it was one that definitely made me feel so much better.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
It's the life of those very women I've simultaneously criticized and envied. Admittedly, it's that same envy that has given life to those harsh words "Must be nice to spend all day working out and shopping", but now my life has afforded me the luxury of spending some time on my bod.
Which I've decided, after giving naked self a once-over in the mirror, is time well spent.
Yesterday kicked off my third straight week of sweating it out at Lexington's newest gym complex (which my Honorary Big Sis and I like to call The Resort. The gym is tricked out with a cardio theatre, lots of weight machines, a special workout room just for chicks, a three lane lap pool and even individual flat screen TVs at the treadmills and elliptical trainers. Each locker room features its own sauna, changing rooms and several beautiful shower stalls.
And when you're done working out, you can hit the attached Smoothie King and tanning salon.
Yesterday I did my regular routine of 35-45 minutes on the elliptical (while watching Rachel Ray's 30 Minute Meals) followed 20-30 laps in the pool. My Honorary Big Sis and I spent some quality time in the sauna before she treated me to a wonderful Pineapple smoothie. I capped the whole event off with 12 minutes in a Cancer Can (tanning bed).
I walked out of the gym about two and a half hours after I had entered, realizing the luxury of that time investment. Few people can afford spending that much time on themselves, and I was appreciative that my station in life at this point is giving me the chance to take care of myself. For years I've been working in a stressful career, making personal sacrifices and putting myself second (and sometimes third) to all the other duties and requirements of my life. It feels great to care about myself for a change.
After the whole gym experience, I decided to do what every other Gym Bunny would do: go shopping.
Taken en route to The Mall: Stay out of my way!
I walked from one end of the mall to the other and back (a perfect way to cool down all those worked-out muscles) and only spent five dollars on a new lip gloss at Bath & Body Works. In the market for a really great suit, I tried on several on-sale Taharis... but I think I need to spend some more time on the elliptical before I plunk down any change on one.
Especially when I'm eating Cheetos and Reese's Cups for breakfast.
Monday, February 07, 2005
Marcia Cross appeared on The View this week and says the rumors aren't true, suggesting her singleness fueleld the gossip fire.
Some of the gossip talk in Hollywood says one of the Desperate Housewives actresses is going to come out in time for May sweeps.
One of my favorite gossip blogs talks about how the media blitz is going to include a spread in The Advocate and lots of stops on the talk show circuit. Other sites lead to clues indicating it's the very beautiful Marcia Cross.
Marcia, Marcia, Marcia
This is apparently timed to coincide with the coming out of a character on the show this Spring... that one I won't give away but if you do some digging (hint: use the links) you can find out who it's gonna be.
They say the actress in question has apparently been dating a star at one of the WB shows for 18 months.
Interesting. So first Cynthia Nixon, and now Marcia Cross.
It must be something with the red hair dye.
Image courtesy Barnes & Noble
Here's a book for all those chicks out there dating a guy just to date a guy.
I wrote a post about the original book, which features a very pertinent section called Don't Waste The Pretty. The new book focuses on all those women who waste the pretty on someone they don't really like.
Truth be told, no one likes to be alone, but some folks (men and women alike) with a complete aversion to solitude run in the complete opposite direction, taking up a significant other for the sake of coupledom.
As much as I moan and groan about the plight of the single girl, I'd be sans-boyfriend any day before I sidled myself with a boring or less than lovely lover.
Like I said before, I'm not going to waste the pretty on just anyone.
Friday, February 04, 2005
Image courtesy Irish Gifts Online
The Irish have this beautiful tradition of The Claddagh. The ring has many stories behind it, but essentially the band with the hands, heart and crown is a symbol of love and devotion.
The hands symbolize friendship, the heart love, and the crown serves as an emblem for loyalty.
The wearer is supposed to receive it as a gift from someone Irish who loves them. I got mine from my father when I was ten, and have been wearing it for about 14 years now. The legend says that if you wear it with the crown pointed towards you, it stands as a symbol of your singleness, but if the wearer shows the crown pointed out towards the tips of the fingers, it means the wearer is taken.
For several years I've been whining and bellyaching about my singleness. I was always been the ninth dinner party guest or one of those desperate women diving for the bouquet at the wedding reception. I've long lived the life of the neurotic single girl, until a theory I had about perfume started working.
Men have been crawling out of the woodwork ever since I got my Romance perfume. Lately I've been dating two men and fending off the advances of several others; it's been a reality of uncharted waters for Kate The Great.
The two men are both wonderful. One is a guy I met on Match.com in what feels like eons ago. We started our e-mail correspondence in September and the phone calls came in November. We had our first date Christmas week, and our second about two weeks ago. He's a wonderful guy who works in the media, so he has a vague understanding of what I do for a living. This man is about ten years older than me and I feel like he's been looking for a relationship for a very long time.
About three weeks ago I met another man. I was minding my own business enjoying friends at at my favorite Irish bar in Lexington. This guy also works in my industry as a reporter at the competition (gasp!) I asked a mutual friend to introduce us when he was at the bar... and we were inseparable for the rest of the night.
Things developed very quickly with this second guy. He was not slow in asking for a date, which I much appreciated as a move solidly confirming his interests. Our time together was not full of pregnant pauses and small talk... but more like sharing little vignettes of our past, what our respective families are like and (single people: grab your vomit bag here), golly gee, just about how much we *like* each other.
He and I have since had a talk about wanting to be exclusive. The day after that talk I turned my Claddagh for the first time in my life. Who knows, maybe I'm jumping the gun... but I really, really like him.
The best part is, I think he likes me, too.
And now, Friday's Feast
Appetizer - If you were a dog, what breed would you be, and why?
I would probably be a Jack Russell, Chihuahua or Poodle. It would be my opportunity to be little and ubercute (at 5'8" and big boned I'm anything but little.) I'd wear a little rhinestone collar and go by the name Sparkle.
Soup - What does the color purple make you think of?
Easy one: The book. My recollection of The Color Purple was that it was a good book. I remember it making me cry, though I'm not sure why. It introduced me to lots of grown up material. Hmm. Perfect read for Black History Month... I should probably dig it out.
Salad - Approximately how long does it take you to get ready each morning?
That depends. If I've showered the night before and I want to "go all out"... then it's about 40 minutes. If I don't care what I look like, then it's more like 15-20 minutes, tops. If I haven't showered and I still want to "go all out," we're talking a good hour. And that's if Good Morning America isn't on...
Main Course - How many cousins do you have, and are you close to them?
Well, that's a tricky one. Lots of variables at work on this one, but I'm not really close to any of my cousins. My dad's an "only," so we have second cousins on that side that we never see or talk to. My mom has one sister, who happens to have three children, but we're not close to those first cousins, either. Mom and her sister aren't talking right now (I hate family disputes over possessions) so naturally us kids don't talk, either. We were never close with the Cousins though, my nuclear family of five is plenty enough for me... especially now that we've started bringing spouses into the picture.
Dessert - Take your initials (first, middle, last) and come up with something else those letters could stand for.
Kids love clowns.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
-I like it when a man leads me through a room with a hand placed carefully on the small of my back.
-I like it when people say please and thank-you.
-I like it when someone refers to me using a cute 'lil nickname.
-I like it when I succeed in pushing myself a little bit harder at the gym.
-I like it when all my bills are paid and there are a couple bucks left to squeek by on 'til payday.
-I like it when I have plans with good friends to look forward to.
-I like it when I find a really good deal on something I really need.
-I like it when I hop into a freshly made bed after a good, hot shower.
-I like it when I discover a surprise waiting for me in my mailbox like an unexpected check or a little present from a far off friend.
-I like it when I get to sleep in the crook between a man's arm and neck.
-I like it when I wake up in the morning and he's still there.
-I like it when I have really good restaurant leftovers in the fridge.
-I like it when my hair has that bounce from a fresh wash and style (chez moi, of course).
-I like it when those too-tight pants fit just right.
-I like it when I get an unexpected text message from someone I really like.
-I like it when a friend makes me lunch unexpectedly.
-I like it when I get to steal a few minutes out of my day to make a quick call to Mom and Dad.
-I like it when God blesses me with a little hope for my future.
-I like it when I put in the time and effort to get "all dressed up" for work, including full make-up and hair.
-I like it when I buckle down and clean my house from top to bottom.
-I like it when I'm only a day away from pay day.
-I like it when I establish the New Record while playing Tetris on my cellphone.
-I like it when I've just had a fresh cut and highlight.
-I like it when my skin is obedient and blesses me with minimum break outs.
-I like it when I take the time to work on my spirituality and make that deep, personal connection with God.
-I like it when I feel like I'm running on all cylinders after my first cup of coffee.
-I like it when I get to steal away for a movie all by myself.
-I like it when I get to catch a movie with a good friend, and then disect it afterwards over a latte.
-I like it when I treat myself to something really nice (because it rarely happens).
-I like it when I stumble upon a really great blog that makes me reflect on my own life, that makes me laugh or that makes me want to read more.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Click here to visit the Official Website of Superbowl XXXIX
The guy I'm seeing right now (be still, my heart) is a Die Hard Philly Eagles fan. In fact, today he's leaving Lexington to make a trek to the homeland, as he calls it, to pick up some cheesesteaks, Philly brewed beer and other snacks indigenous to the City of Brotherly Love.
Image courtesy of msnbc. Credit to Chris Gardner/AP
Being the carpetbagger New Englander I am (carpetbagged in, carpetbagged out), I am gladly riding the Patriots bandwagon.
Image courtesy sportsfanoutlet.com
He and I decided to pony up a homecooked dinner as the stakes for the game. My football minded friends tell me I should have no problems with this one, that the Pats are a shoe-in for the game, and that this boy better be breaking out the cookbook, and soon.
But, there IS an off chance the Eagles pull this thing out, and if they do, I had better have a plan.
What kind of meal would impress this gentlemanly friend? I don't have a grill so that rules out my grilling up a great steak. I would kind of like to make a play on the Philly connection, so I guess I could serve something that uses cream cheese as an ingredient.
I know there are some budding Jacques and Julias out there, so give me your best suggestions!
All the greats have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Now you can add another to the list.
Picture courtesy BBC News
Ted, er, Neo, I mean Keanu Reeves has his very own.
Granted, this guy has such a wide-range of acting capabilities, but maybe he can panhandle on the star if things don't work out.