Tuesday, December 29, 2009

It's not my day

For the last week I've had it in my head that I had a dentist appointment this morning. On a whim, I called to confirm the appointment time.

Turns out, I DON'T have a dentist appointment today.

I have an appointment with the skin doctor.

At 9am.

It's 8:45am.

And I'm not showered.

I have hairy legs.

My belly is bulging from too much holiday indulging.

And I am in no way, shape or form ready to have someone inspect my naked body.

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Monday, December 28, 2009

can you say it again? only louder and more slowly?

On Saturday morning, Mr. KK and I hit the stores with the rest of the crazy people.

Our first stop was Target, so I could stock up on half-priced Christmas goodies for next year.

Our second stop was the mall, so that I could exchange something from my Mom.

(Sweetly, she thinks I'm a size smaller than I actually am. When I told her this she replied, "Well the sweater I got you just looked so big I thought for sure it would fit." Thanks, Mom.)

So I'm standing in line at The Loft, listening to the guy behind the counter talk about himself. He's going on and on about how he's working in women's retail for over 20 years, how much he loves it and how good at it he is, and how he went to school to be a stylist. Really? You went to school to be a stylist and you're working the Return Line at the mall on the day after Christmas? Might want to reign in the ego a bit, dude.

So it's my turn (finally!) and the nice woman helps me with my exchange. I also have a top from Mr. KK's aunt that is a bit too long.

KK: "Can you scan this to see if it's crazy on sale? I know everything is marked down, and if it is I'll ask her for the receipt. I didn't see it anywhere in the store, so there's a chance it's from The Loft outlet and I'll take it back."

She scans the sweater with no luck.

SALESWOMAN: "It's not in our system. And I don't even recognize it."

KK: "No worries. I'm sure it's from the outlet. I'll just take it back."

SALESWOMAN: "No, wait, let me check for you. Stephen, is this top one of ours?"

The retail douchebag dances over from his register and pulls his Gucci glasses down his nose to inspect my sweater.

DB: "Oh no. This sweater is from the outlet," he says to her with disdain. Then – using only 2 fingers to touch my sweater like it's covered in swine flu – he tosses my sweater towards me. "We can't touch this sweater."

SALESWOMAN: "Okay, thanks. That's what she thought. I was just checking."

Then, Stephen the DB looks up at me. "You need to return that at the outlet. We don't take their merchandise here."

For a second I feel a little like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, only more like a criminal.

Then, I got royally pissed off.

KK: "Thanks. No problem."

DB: "It's from the ouuutleeeet." His annunciation skills are wonderful. "The outlet is a different store."

Okay. That's it.

KK: "Yes, I know where the outlet is, Stephen."

I grab my sweater and walk out the store.

Of-freaking-course, the door alarm goes off, completely ruining my 'stomping-off-in-anger' show.

I walk back to the desk to overhear my saleswoman and Stephen taking.

SALESWOMAN: "She wasn't trying to return it here. She thought it was from the outlet to begin with."

STEPHEN THE DB: "Well, you never know. These people come in here and try to return stuff they shouldn't...you never can tell..."

Stephen turns around to find he's face to face with...ME.

He smiles embarrassingly.

I raise one eyebrow.

KK: "Hi, again, Stephen."


Tuesday, December 22, 2009

but you never know when you'll need one!

Last night I was in Homegoods and I came across an item that I just had to have.

It's more of a specialty item, not something that I would use every day.

I walked by its beauty four or five times.

Ran my fingers over its cool, smooth exterior.

Smiled at myself in the reflection.

Mentally decorated my living room with it.

It would be the quintessential conversation starter.

So I texted this to Mr. KK:

"Is there any chance we have any need for a disco ball????"

Needless to say, I came home empty handed.

But I had wonderful disco dreams.

Friday, December 18, 2009

tell those turtledoves that I ain't ready


Hard to believe that Christmas is a week away. I am yet to finish my shopping, have not even started wrapping, and need to spend tonight and tomorrow prepping for our annual family holiday cocktail party! (Because we just won't see each other enough over the next two weeks...)

I haven't eaten a meal in my house since lunch last Saturday, so I'm looking forward to spending some time at home. But not too much time, because I have to go out and finish the shopping!

A few funny things happened on the way to this weekend, and instead of making you read paragraph upon paragraph explaining every detail of my super-exciting life*, I thought a down-and-dirty "highlights only" kind of post was the way to go.


Had a great dinner out with a few friends from work and we did a mini grab bag. I put in this fabulous necklace that my coworker loved and proudly wore last night at our company holiday party (more on THAT later). In return I got some beautiful brightly-colored ornaments from Pier 1, which only reinforces that I need to break away from my anal-Martha-Stewartness of decorating the Christmas tree only in colors that match the living room (blue and silver. it only sounds like a Hanukkah tree. It looks super nice. really.)


Client holiday party at a great Latino restaurant. Great food (I still couldn't eat) and yummy margaritas (I still couldn't drink). Throw in a sloppy drunk VP and you have yourself a par-tay!


This evening, Mr. KK and I officially aged 40 years and gained 40 pounds. We were out buying a new grown-up camera (with a lens and everything!) and moseyed over to...wait for it...The Red Lobster. This is especially amusing because my grandparents like to go there for dinner...at 4pm. It was 8:30pm, so we pretty much had the place to ourselves.

The only way to watch your figure at that joint is to watch it grow, because there's NOTHING that's remotely healthy on that menu. After much debate, I ended up ordering: a half-order of (butter-covered) shrimp and lobster, with tomatoes and (buttery) asparagus in a white wine and butter sauce, served on a plate made of butter.

And – to put the icing on the cake – we paid with a coupon.


Ah, the company holiday party.

Let's just say, I needed MANY drinks to get through the night. (In fact, you should go mix yourself a cocktail just to read about it)

A few notable nuggets:

  • The party was at an aquarium down the road, and we had the run of the place, so it was pretty cool
  • We were at an aquarium, so I felt the need to apologize to the tanks every time I ate a crab cake
  • I didn't need that last beer
  • And speaking of that last beer, why the hell did I choose beer? I started with cosmos, moved onto white wine...how did the word "beer" come out of my mouth at the end of the night?
  • Someone brought their INFANT to the party. Now, Mr. KK, being the nice person that he is, says, "Maybe they couldn't find a baby sitter." Well, if they didn't have FOUR OTHER CHILDREN that needed watching, then I would have considered this fact. But those other kids had to be somewhere...why on earth would you bring a 6-month old to a party???
  • When the party ended and I said, "Let's go with everyone to the bar!", Mr. KK should have responded, "Let's go home!"
  • Did I mention the lack of food? And what food was there was bad? So that lead to the need to fill the belly with drinks. So the result was: empty belly, more drinkies.
So I'm operating at half-mast today. Which isn't good, because there's lots to do.

And those 12 drummers drumming are killing my headache.

*Okay, I lied. Even the short version is rather long. Hey, I'm a writer. I just can't.stop.writing.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

it's like they took a snapshot of my worklife...

Check out this cartoon...about agencies trying to please their clients.

I've experienced every one of these scenarios.


Tuesday, December 15, 2009

was Paul Revere busy?

Two months ago – in the height of my madness for boots (yes, we're back to boots, sorry!) – I ordered a pair of "not-the-real-thing-but-they'll-do-for-fifty-bucks" boots from Target.

They were impossibly hard to find in store, and even more so online. To add frustration to the ever-growing boot fiasco, when I placed my order, I was told the boots were on "back order" and Target would let me know when they had more available to ship, and that it was likely that my boots would arrive sometime towards late December.

That was in October.

Lots has happened since then. In case you haven't been reading my blog, here are some highlights of the last 60 days:
1. I blogged for 30 days straight in November
2. I've been pronounced cancer-free
3. I had dental surgery
4. I learned I'm no good on narcotics
5. I found better* boots to fill my Frye Carson void
6. I've quit Jillian Michaels
7. I executed a scrumptious Thanksgiving meal for 12 people flawlessly
8. I survived Black Friday
9. I got a cold sore
10. I did yard work

So, while ALL of that stuff was going on, the Target elves were busy making boots that I forgot about.

Last week I receive an email about these boots. (Did I already pay for these boots when I placed the order? I can't remember.) "Do you still want to proceed with the order? The order will be delayed another few weeks." So apparently I'm getting these boots for Fall 2010.

So I click "YES" (what they hey!) and forget about the boots again.

Yesterday I receive an email informing me that my boots have been shipped! And they even sent a little picture, probably to remind me what they looked like. (I still like them). And now I can track them!

So I did.

And it says this:

ITEM SHIPPED: December 14, 2009
TRACKING NUMBER: sljdfkslhfwioerhsfhs
DELIVER TO: kk's house
STATUS: in transit (yippee!)

Um, excuse me?

January 28th?

Are they WALKING my boots to me?
Shipping via dog sled?
Routing through China?

*ie, cheaper and almost as good

Thanks, Universe!

In a week when I'm bogged down with meetings, holiday parties and client dinners, Mother Nature has decided to give me a nice big (painful!) cold sore. Hey, nothing says "Happy Holidays!" like a big sore on your lip.

So, on top of my lip monster, I am still recuperating from my dental surgery, and can only eat foods that are: not hard, not crunchy, not spicy, not hot, not cold, not acidic, not lumpy, not too small, not too big, not any fun. I have a space between my teeth big enough to drive a truck through. I'm still nursing 5 stitches.

Who can't wait to spend a week being "on" with clients, schmoozing and not being able to eat any of the food offered, while offending people with my ugliness?

And who wore a super low-cut V-neck tight shirt today to keep people's eyes away from her mouth?

And in case the slut shirt didn't work, who sore a scuba-tight skirt with a slit up to her hoo-ha?

So not only will the clients not even realize that I have a cold sore, they'll also not realize that I have eyes, a nose or brown hair.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

things i'm bad at

1. relaxing
2. listening to people telling me to relax

I just can't sit still knowing there's laundry/cleaning/work/wrapping/decorating/organizing/shopping that could be done.

And when I finally did lie down on the couch, there was nothing – and I mean nothing – on TV.

OR, a pack of dogs decides to walk by the house and Vito turns into a jumping bean on the cushions and my stomach.

And watching all these episodes of "Say Yes to the Dress" makes me want to have another wedding so I can try wedding dresses on again.

I'm lit like a Christmas tree. So I've shut myself off from the Vicodin because – to quote myself – it makes me feel "fuzzy and woozy".

Friday, December 11, 2009

two extractions in one day

I thought my trip to the oral surgeon for my tooth extraction would be the big news today, but alas, I've been upstaged.

The show stealer? The minute I walked in the door at work I found out that a former coworker was arrested for first degree child pornography! My first reaction was pure shock, quickly followed by the immediate urge to vomit.

He hasn't worked with us in about a year, but he was (is?) the nicest guy (to me, anyway). Always pleasant, saying hello, offering to change the water bottle so I wouldn't have to. And to think that he was visiting child pornography sites and had downloaded over 400 images of children to his computer just makes me sick.

So, upon hearing the news, I unfriended him on Facebook. It's my first "unfriend". And I feel awful doing it, but I know I'm not alone. When I first checked his page out this morning, his friend count was at 168. Ten minutes later, it was down to 162. In one swift click, I extracted him from my life.

The second – and really, in comparison, boring – extraction of the day was my tooth extraction. It was quick and pretty painless (except for now that everything is wearing off), mostly just pressure and sucking sounds. But is there anything weirder feeling than Novocaine in your mouth? I felt like Rocky Balboa after a bad fight.

But now, I'm home, snuggled on the couch with Vito, enjoying my Vicodin.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

It's sad...

When the highlight of your day is a free train ride.

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

the boot saga is over

The Frye boots I've been PINING over on this blog for what seems like forever? the ones you're sick over hearing about?

Well, I didn't buy them. Me – a self-proclaimed shoe whore – just couldn't fathom separating myself with that much moolah on a gift for myself so close to Christmas, when I have so many gifts FOR OTHER PEOPLE to purchase.

So what did I do?

I went to the Marshall's Shoe Mega Shop, dug through the boots and – lo and behold – found a singular pair of Frye boots – in my exact same size – ON CLEARANCE.

So for only $135 (compared to $348), I purchased these beauties:

No, they're not the cowboy boots I've been talking about. But they are delicious riding boots that go with everything.

Mission accomplished!

Monday, December 7, 2009

Jillian, it's not you, it's me

Actually, it's the concrete floor in my basement.

After two months of on-again, off-again relations with Jillian's 30-Day Shred, I've decided to call it quits.

Is it because she calls me "buddy" while we're working out?


Is it because she uses the ridiculous phrase "don't phone it in" when referring to quitting?

No. (Kinda. Okay, No.)

Is it because she won't even give me a freakin' minute to take a drink of water?

No. (But it should be.)

It's because I'm becoming crippled.

All of the jumping, lunging, shredding I've been doing in the cave known as my unfinished basement is wreaking havoc on my knees.

In the last 2 months I've gone from 35 to 85. If I kneel or sit with bended knees for a long period of time, when I stand up, I almost topple over. I cringe with pain and can barely straighten my legs.

This started happening soon after I started the workout DVDs. The funny thing is, I read one review from a woman who complained about the same thing...but I just chalked her up to a frustrated hypochondriac who didn't lose any weight.

Now, I see – and feel – her point.

So Mr. KK has banned me from working out with Jillian.

I don't know if I should cry, or kiss him.

Friday, December 4, 2009


Today, I am tired.

Today, my ass is dragging from getting home late from a client dinner in NYC.

Today, because of said lateness, I have dirty hair.

Today, I am wearing diamond earrings with a track jacket.

Today, I ate a mismatched lunch: leftover turkey burger and gourmet grilled octopus salad.

Today, my fellow coworkers have booked me in meetings from the minute I arrived here until the minute I'm leaving. (Except for that 15 minute window so that I can pee and eat some lunch – you guys are THE BEST!)

Today, we are decorating our tree, as soon as we A.) locate all of the lights from last year or B.) buy all new lights. (I'm leaning towards B, because it's just easier)

Today, I am looking forward a night in with Mr. KK, complete with a "dinner" consisting of: ciabatta bread, rosemary breadsticks, 2 kinds of cheeses, fresh sliced prosciutto, olives and oven roasted tomatoes.

Today, marks the 34th day in a row I've posted to my blog (in case anyone is counting)

Today, I'm asking you to watch the video I posted yesterday because it's so frickin' funny. Seriously. (Please?)

Today, I'm wishing you all a super-fun-we're-deep-in-the-heart-of-the-Christmas-season weekend!

Thursday, December 3, 2009

you'll be humming the theme song all day

This video?

Is hilarious.

I saw it a few weeks ago.

Now I'm reading that it's been pulled from YouTube because a group of people are claiming that it is sexist and condones rape.

(Yes, I said rape. It's about chemicals in your cleaners, people!)

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

if you don't like it, take it up with my band

I was thinking the other day how cool it would be if we could all have theme songs.

And you could have different theme songs for your different actions or moods. When you walk into a room, your theme song starts playing. Like in the movies.

Imagine this scenario...

The setting: work

I'm marching down to my boss's office, resignation in hand.

As I enter his office, the beginning bars of Daughtry's "No Surprise" start to rise up.

ME: "I think it's time for me leave COMPANY."

(and the song starts...)

"I've practiced this for hours, gone round and round

And now I think that I've got it all down
And as I say it louder I love how it sounds
Cause I'm not taking the easy way out
Not wrapping this in ribbons
Shouldn't have to give a reason why..."

ME: "It's been real. KK out."

"It's NO SURPRISE I won't be here tomorrow

I can't believe that I stayed till today
Yeah you and I will be a tough act to follow
But I know in time we'll find this was NO SURPRISE"

Seriously, this scenario gives me chills.

What would your theme song be?

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

because I'm right...and everyone else is wrong

Dear Dental Insurance Customer Service Rep,

I'm pretty sure that answering the phones and tending to people's insurance questions is your JOB. So when I call with questions regarding my dental insurance, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't punctuate every.single.sentence. with a disgruntled *sigh* that has the capacity to wake a sleeping baby 5 states away.

I didn't know that my asking whether or not my upcoming DENTAL SURGERY would be covered would cause you to be so distraught. I'm the one who should be upset, considering – according to you – my new oral surgeon isn't part of your dental plan, and I will be paying out of pocket for some of these expenses. I think I should be the one sighing.

So how about next time you skip the hemming and hawing and answer my freaking questions?

It's not my problem is you hate your job. Join the effing club.

No compassion,


Dear Drivers Who Believe Their High Beams Are Their Regular Headlights,

When you're in bumper to bumper traffic?
On a well-lit road?
At a light at the end of an exit ramp?


Blind in one eye,


Dear Aspiring Dunkin' Donuts Franchisee,

Can you please open up your DD near my office?

It's really too much to expect me to get into my car in the middle of the workday and drive to YOU.

The only coffee place in walking distance is Starfucks. And their hot chocolate gives me a bellyache.

Needing a fix,


Dear Leroy,

It's quite maybe somewhat very possible that I will be missing a tooth for your wedding.

I'll talk with the photographer to make sure he only photographs me from the left, on an angle, with low lighting.

There's always Photoshop,

Monday, November 30, 2009

what a long, strange trip it's been...


30 posts in 30 days, baby!

Let's take a peekaroo at the past month:

Number of days to post: 30
Number of posts (including this one): 32 take that, NaBloPoMo bishes!
Number of times I wanted to quit my job: 4,371 (give or take)
Number of times I played the lottery in hopes of winning and quitting my job: 25
Number of winnings from said lottery-playing: $11
Number of holidays hosted: 1
Number of guests for holiday dinner: 12
Number of times I asked Mr. KK for a new kitchen: 364
Number of nights Vito hogged the bed: 29
Number of posts that almost didn't make it up: 3
Number of martinis consumed during NaBloPoMo: 4 (a disappointing showing)
Number of Christmas gifts bought before December 1: 6
Number of times I "almost" bought my Frye boots, then didn't, then missed out: 4
Number of additional times I will post about the tragedy of said Frye boots: at least 7
Number of you I want to thank for reading me for 30 straight days: ALL OF YOU!


Sunday, November 29, 2009

thanksgiving is like a distant memory...

...because the CHRISTMAS season has officially started!

Today, I hit the stores solo in the morning for some quality kk holiday shopping time. And you know what? I got so much accomplished! (Of course, I was practicing the "one for you, one for me" shopping mentality, but I've found that it works!)

I was able to check off all the little kiddies on our Christmas list, plus I got a few stocking stuffers for family members.

The big question is...what to get for Mr. KK?
(but he sometimes reads my blog...so it shall remain a secret!)

And, besides the incessant – but awesome! – Christmas carols, WE WENT AND GOT OUR TREE! She's a real beauty. Right now, she's enjoying some more 'outdoors' time, at least until next weekend when we're ready to bring her in.

And this week starts my crazy client holiday parties...the first one is Thursday night – dinner in NYC. I even bought myself a little black "Christmas present" today to wear to it.

So let's deck the halls, hang the holly and trim the tree; it IS the most wonderful time of the year, indeed!

Saturday, November 28, 2009

and I'm great with power tools, too!

While I don't have photos of myself using the power drill, let me tell you, I was fabulous.

Instead of talking home improvement, let's talk home making.

Thanksgiving, to be exact.

Not to toot my own horn, but this Thanksgiving was the tastiest one YET.

Everything was delicious – the turkey couldn't have been juicier; I went back for seconds...and that says a lot.

The KK Family 2009 Thanksgiving Menu

check out those breasts!

Hors D'oeuvres

Parmesan thyme crackers
Spinach and shallot pastry bites
Bocconcini with basil and olive oil

First Course

Butternut Squash and corn bisque

Main Course

Turkey breasts
Meat dressing
Sausage, apple and cornbread stuffing with rosemary and sage
Chive and sour cream mashed potatoes
Mashed sweet potatoes
Green beans with caramelized shallots
Cranberry sauce with orange zest


Chestnuts, walnuts and almonds
Boxed chocolate


My pumpkin cheesecake that DID NOT CRACK
Pumpkin pie
Mixed berry pie
Pumpkin bread
Butterball cookies


Can you believe that after that deliciously crazy meal I went today to try on bridesmaid's dresses??? NOT a good idea!

Hope everyone enjoyed their turkey days!

May the month of over-indulging begin!

Friday, November 27, 2009

Day 27 NaBloPoMo: I survived Black Friday

Ever since I was little, I loved Christmas shopping the day after thanksgiving.

I used to go every year with my Dad, and we'd spend the day picking out Clinique beauty products, knit sweaters and a bathrobe for my mother.

Mr. KK and I have started a tradition of shopping on Black Friday. Every year we've gone (last year and this year), it has rained. But we brave the crowds and head out with high hopes.

Last year, we bought ourselves a new refrigerator. I was hoping to top that with a Viking range, but Mr. KK was having none of that.

So instead, we shopped for other people on our list. And we even managed to get a few gifts bought for people.

But the best part of the day – besides late afternoon martinis at the bar – was the people watching.

Seriously, some of the best around.

I knew all the weirdos would come out on Black Friday, but I just didn't know how many of them I would see in the middle of Connecticut.

A few of the highlights:

The employee with the neoprene toe socks in the Apple store.
For some reason, this man didn't feel the need to wear shoes to work. Instead, he wore socks that made his feel look like they were wearing gloves, made out of scuba-diving material. Maybe so he wouldn't slide around on Apple's beautiful hardwood floors?

The Madonna throwback in Banana Republic.
I would have been okay if it was a FEMALE employee dressed like Madonna in her "Like A Virgin" days, but seeing a six-foot African American man wearing a red deep V cardigan, camisole, layered long necklaces and lace, fingerless glove, looking like he just left the MAC counter at Macy's and the Piercing Pagoda was taking it a bit too far.

The woman breast-feeding in public.
Those beautiful room settings that they put together in Crate and Barrel are meant to shop an envision in your own home, not to make yourself comfortable and whip out your tits. There's a time and a place for indecency, and breast-feeding on $1000 chenille is not one of them.

A new twist on teaching the birds and the bees.
A male shopper was carrying his year-old son through the stinky fragrance department at Macy's. A worker stopped by to admire how cute the kid was. She asked him the typical questions you ask a person who can barely speak (ie, 'what's your name' and 'where's your daddy').
Then she asked the question, "Where's your belly button?" and the little boy pointed to his belly.
The Macy's worker responded, "That's right! That's where your Mommy fed you when you were stuck in her belly for 9 months."
I'm pretty sure the kid started crying after that.

I would, too. Who wants to remember eating through their belly button?

I wish I could have gotten a picture of those toe socks.

Seriously, with those gripper bottoms, they'd make an awesome gift.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Happy thanksgiving!

May you eat enough good food to warrant elastic-waist pants!

(The countdown to black friday shopping is on!)

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Thanksgiving eve

I took today off from work so I could do all the thanksgiving prep.

Tonight's mission is to go out without seeing anyone from high school.

So we went one town over.

And right now we are sitting next to a girl that was a really good friend in higjh scho, that I haven't talked to in 17 years.

To say hi, to not say hi...

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

i can only imagine what your apartments/houses/desks look like

Today at work we had a potluck lunch.

A few people brought in some homemade goodies (a few people signed up to bring food and then just...didn't).

I went the easy route and made a big, beautiful Greek salad. I arranged the ingredients in neat little rows (kalamata olives, pepperoncini, cucumber, tomato, red onion and feta).

After the potluck I went into the kitchen to wash out my bowl and saw THIS:

(What you can't see are the remnants from someone's chicken soup – including carrots, noodles and celery pieces – clogging the drain and stuck to the bottom of the sink)

And when they ran out of room in the sink, they started piling the mugs, glasses and bowls on the counter.

The best part of this whole scenario is that about 2 feet to the left is a dishwasher.


Cursing the slobs that I work with I open the dishwasher to discover it's full of CLEAN dishes.

So that's why the sink is full.

Being the nice (and clean) person that I am, I start emptying the clean dishes into the cabinet.

A female coworker walks in to get some coffee.

CW: "Wow, you're a better woman than I am."

Yeah, no shit.

ME: "Well, I can't wash my dishes so I'm just making room."

CW: "Now I feel like I should help you..."

I didn't quite catch the rest of her sentence, since she was walking out of the kitchen, back to her desk.

Two minutes later a male coworker comes in and stares at me doing this crazy manual labor.

CW: "We have people that do that, you know."

ME: "Unload the clean dishes?"

CW: "Yes."

ME: "Right. The cleaning people put the dirty dishes in here every night and run it. Then, in the morning, they're clean."

CW: "And then tonight they'll unload it and put the dirty dishes in."

ME: "You can't even see the sink. I can't wash my bowl."

CW: "So leave it and have them wash it. That's their job."

And being considerate is EVERYONE'S job.


Who raised these people???

Monday, November 23, 2009

am i trying to tell myself something?

Lately our work email has been littered with all of this crazy spam. Sometimes, it's spam from coworkers' email addresses with ridiculous pharmaceutical messages and Viagra advertisements.

Every once in a while I get spam from myself.

Today's email looked something like this:

FROM: kk@crazyassmarketingcompany.com

SUBJECT: lose all that tummy fat, kk!

I would like this spam to know that I did my Jillian SHRED video this morning, thank you very much.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

In case we're ever tardy...

I want you to know why.

All of my life, I've been a punctual person. More than punctual. I'm an early arriver.

Job interview, 45 minutes early.
Meeting friends for drinks, one martini before everyone else.
Doctor appointments, one magazine ahead of schedule.

But together, me and Mr. KK can never make it anywhere on time.

Take today, for instance.

My mother was having birthday dinner at her house for my grandmother (Happy Birthday, Gram!). We had a few things to do around the yard, so I told my mother we'd be there around 3pm.

Today, 1pm

Mr. KK and I decide to do yard work together. We never do yard work together because I'm usually at the grocery store. Or shopping. Or having my nails done. You know, stuff that's more important than pruning and raking.

KK: "This will be fun. I can wear those gardening gloves you bought me a few years ago. Where are they?"

Mr. KK: "In the garage. With the tags still on them."


Mr. KK calls his mother to check in and see what's up.


Mr. KK is still on the phone.


Mr. KK is STILL on the phone.


We finally head outside to put all of our leaves on the back of the pickup truck. Mr. KK backs the truck up across the yard to the back fence. We start piling leaves on the truck. And more leaves. And more leaves.


I've never seen so many leaves.


I officially hate yard work.


OLD NEIGHBOR: "Hey, I'm admiring your supervisor out there."

MR. KK (laughing): "Oh yeah, I have help today."

Are they patronizing me? I'm pretty sure the entire neighborhood thinks Mr. KK lives here alone. They have no idea who I am.

KK: "Yes, I'm a great supervisor. Let me know if you want me to come over and supervise YOU."


KK: "What time is it? We have to be at my mom's at 3pm."

Mr. KK: "Look inside the truck."

KK: "Is it on?"

Mr. KK: "Yeah, the radio's on."

KK: "Not anymore."


Battery dies in the truck.


KK: "What are we going to do now?"

Mr. KK: "We'll have to drive the Rav 4 back here and jump the truck."

KK: "How many cars are we going to have back here? We already look like Sanford and Son."


I come inside to get the other set of keys and notice that Vito has thrown up on the rug – twice.


We jump the truck. I come inside to clean up vomit and clean up myself.


Mr. KK is still outside. Now he's fertilizing the lawn.




I call my mom.

KK: "Hey, we're not going to be there by 3pm."

MOM: "Really? What makes you say that? The fact that it's 3?"

KK: "See you at 3:30pm."


I run to the store to pick up flowers, get gas and then come back and pick up Mr. KK.


We arrive at my mom's house.


MOM: "You're late."

KK: "After the afternoon we've had, you're lucky we made it at all."

Saturday, November 21, 2009

There's nothing better than beer and pizza!

And there's nothing better than New Haven, CT pizza!

It's world famous for a reason.

My fave? Clams casino pizza with clams, bacon, mozzarella and peppers. YUM.

(Were you worried I wouldn't get my Day 21 post in? I was!)

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Friday, November 20, 2009

On holiday shopping, crazy-ass dreams and a Best Buy tale

Happy Friday, everyone!

It has been one of those weeks, so I'm happy to have the weekend on the horizon.

I'm proud to report that I have officially bought my first Christmas present! Actually, THREE presents! I feel so accomplished.

As hard as I tried to stay awake and watch the Project Runway finale, I couldn't do it (NOTE: please do not give anything away! I'm hoping to watch it tonight!). And, while in said slumber, my mind was working overtime.

We woke up this morning and Mr. KK had the same kind of night.

MR. KK: "I had the weirdest dreams last night."

KK: "OMG, ME TOO! Did your dreams involve my old college roommates that I haven't seen in 13 years that for some reason no longer want to talk to me, D and T? Were you heading back to college after a summer off, but you were your present age, and they all were there, wearing really fashionable dresses – which was totally out of character, btw – and they hugged you but you could feel a little resistance? And you were in our senior housing – but it wasn't REALLY our senior housing, because it was actually nice – and they were on their Blackberries while you tried to make nice and they ignored you???"

MR.KK: "Um, nope. I dreamed I got fired."


One last thing – and I have to keep it brief because I PROMISED Mr. KK that I wouldn't make fun of my mother's lack of technical knowledge (even though it would make a really funny blog post, but a promise is a promise...(until people forget you made a promise to them...)).

My parents bought a new digital camera. And by new, I mean their first. So my mother has a zillion questions, it takes her 3 full minutes to take a photo and she's so excited to have a camera, that whenever I go to take a picture – on our Newport trip, in Boston, during Sunday dinner – she has to whip out her camera and take the SAME EXACT PHOTO.

I tried explaining to her that only ONE of us needs to take the photo; that's the beauty of the digital world. We can share photos. She still does it.

So, now she's taken all of these photos and she wants to take them off of her camera. So I tell my parents to download the camera software to the computer and it should be pretty self-explanatory. It's not.

I go over to help, and for some reason, the computer isn't recognizing the camera. I tell my mother to take the laptop to Best Buy – where she bought the camera – and have them show her how to take the pictures off the camera. THAT way, they'll teach her and I won't have to spend multiple Saturdays sitting in front of the computer with her saying, "Now, can you show me again?" and "Where do the photos go?"

I believe, the trip went something like this:

MOM: "Hi. I bought a camera and can't get the pictures off of it. I brought my laptop, can you help me figure it out?"

BEST BUY GUY takes one look at their ANCIENT laptop and bursts out laughing. Then points and laughs at the dinosaur on the table in front of him. Then, gets his blue-shirt-wearing buddy to come over and join in the laughter.

BBG: "It's because your computer is so darn OLD."

(When Mr. KK forgets my promise, I'll retell the conversation between me and my Mom about getting a new computer)

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Day 19 NaBloPoMo: a snapshot of my day

I was the first person to arrive at work today (at 7am)

my "special project" that I worked on yesterday did receive the praise and gratitude I thought it would

they announced that our medical insurance rates were going up by 33%

my boss's dog french kissed me, sucked my earring off, then stuck her snout between my legs and lifted up my skirt
(NOTE: there was no buying of dinner beforehand)

I made an appointment with a periodontist today for a consultation on yanking out my tooth

it's raining and traffic is HORRIBLE

we did NOT win the lottery

I seemed to have lost a blog follower
(I'm sorry, I hope I didn't offend you. Is it because I've been posting for 19 days straight and you're tired of me? Do dental postings scare you?)

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

it's never a good sign when a dentist starts the conversation with "I'm sorry"

For the last month or so, I've had an abrasion on my gum, above my tooth that has a crown due to a root canal. I'll save you the gory details of puss and oozing and cut the chase: I went to see the dentist. He took an xray and confirmed an infection was hiding in my gum. He scribbled a prescription and I was on my merry way.

After a week on the antibiotic (give or take a few days I may have forgotten to take it in Boston, or weakened its effectiveness due to alcohol), it wasn't any better. My dentist suggested I go and visit the endodontist who performed the root canal. I happened to be working from home today on a special project* so I took a jaunt over with my xray in hand.

setting: today, at the doctor's office; i'm in the chair with the paper bib secured around my neck

The doctor comes in and reads my chart, reviews the xray, refers back to my chart, looks at me, checks the xray, forms his lips into a thin line and shakes his head.

DR: "I'm sorry."

KK: "That good, eh?"

DR: "You have a crack. In your tooth. It's not good."

KK: "I know I HAD a crack, that's why we did the root canal. Now I have this fake tooth." I remind him of our history together, in case he forgot.

DR: "Yes, I'm aware. The crack is in the root. Way above the tooth. It's bad. Lots of bacterial infection." He reminds me of his medical degree.

KK: "So...what does that mean?" I imagine it means needles. And blood. And other stuff not covered by insurance.

DR: "It means we have to extract the tooth. I'm sorry."

KK: "Extract it? Like take it out?" I remind myself that I know the definitions of scary words.

DR: "Yes."

KK (slight panic): "And then what?"

DR: "They take out the tooth, then you have options. Smile big."

It's a hard request, given the information he's dealing. I manage to give him a big cheesy grin. I know where this is going.

KK: "You can see it."
I know you can see it when I smile, because you can see the crown that's there in EVERY picture. It's the first thing I see. My "fake tooth" I call it. It's a different color. It drives me NUTS.

DR: "Yes, you can see it. You can get an implant." I have to say, of all the implants I could get, I never thought it would be for a tooth.

KK: "You're not going to do this right NOW, are you???" More panic.

DR: (chuckling) "No. I don't even pull teeth! You'd need to see an oral surgeon."

Oh. Phew.

He goes on to explain that after extraction it has to heal for 6 to 12 months, in which case they could give me a mouthpiece that has one single lonely tooth attached to it that will cover my palate and put a tooth in place.

KK: "Wow. Between that and my night guard, I'll be one sexy mama."

DR: ((blank stare))

KK: "OR, I could just not smile for a whole year."

DR: "OR, you just abridge your smile."

Seems the good doctor knows the definitions of words, too.


*more on that later

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

at least I still get carded

Last Thursday I went for a much-needed haircut. I had had to cancel my last 2 appointments because of work, so I was desperate.

My hairdresser is rather "no frills". I'm always shocked to hear what friends pay for their haircuts – some upwards of $60 and $70 – when I go for a good cut for under $25. Of course, I don't have her blow dry my hair, because I'm just going home to bed.

So I'm sitting in the chair, listening to the chit-chat around me, staring at myself in the mirror. Or should I say critiquing myself. As I was admiring my choice in eye shadow that day, and remarking that my skin looks better with wet, dark hair, something shiny in the mirror caught my eye.

What the?

What's that gleaming thing in my hair? It looks like a million glimmering pieces of thread. But I'm not wearing anything that color...OH MY GOD LOOK AT ALL OF MY GREY HAIR!

It was like she parted the silver sea because in an instant my head resembled Steve Martin's.

KK: "Wow...look at all my grey hair!" I was in shock. I mean, I knew I had SOME grey hairs...I just didn't think I had sprouted an entire colony!

HAIRDRESSER: "Maybe it's time we start doing something about that!"

KK: "I don't think I can dye my hair."

I traumatize my hair enough every day drying it for 30 minutes.

HAIRDRESSER: "There's all different things you can do...permanent, semi-permanent...you take after your mom, she's really grey."

Great. Thanks, mom. First, varicose veins. Now this.

KK: "I think I'll go natural...I'm not sure dyeing is for me."

HAIRDRESSER: "It's up to you. Then you'll look like your grandmothers."

Monday, November 16, 2009

Hear no evil

Yesterday, I woke up deaf.

Well, not entirely, but my ears were clogged and it was like I was underwater.

Frankly, it scared the crap out of me. My grandmother went for YEARS with reduced hearing because she was too proud and vain to get a hearing aid. I definitely don't take after her, because after one hour of feeling like I was in a tunnel and asking Mr. KK "What?" after every word he uttered, I was ready to head to Belltone and sign myself up.
(Except that I was too afraid to drive like that, so I would have had to ask for a ride)

The deafness didn't get any better. In fact, it got worse. To the point where Mr. KK and I would be standing in the same room having a conversation and he'd start laughing at me.

KK: "Why are you laughing?"
Mr. KK: "Because you're yelling to hear yourself talk."

Gotta love marital support.

When we were in church at the baptism, I "whispered" to Mr. KK: "Do you think I could ask God to give me back my hearing?" I wasn't sure if that was being selfish, considering I hadn't been to church since Aunt Mary's funeral.

So I spent most of the baptism having imaginary conversation like this in my (clouded) head:

KK: "Um, God, can you do me a solid? Can you make it so I can hear again?"
GOD: "You're asking me for a favor? When was the last time you did something for me?"
KK: "Well, I work with tons of stupid people, and I haven't killed any of them yet..."
GOD (raised eyebrows; yes, God has eyebrows, in case you were wondering): "Have you helped anyone out?"
KK: "Well, I gave a shitload – I mean TON – of clothes to Goodwill! And nice things too – designer shoes, Polo T-shirts, Calvin Klein pants..."
GOD: "Maybe being hard of hearing will make you more sensitive to others with disabilities. Or, maybe it means you have wax build up."

God, apparently, has a sense of humor and medical degree.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Day 15: It's hump day for NaBloPoMo

Wow...I'm halfway there!

You sick of me yet?

Aside from my cousin's daughters baptism today (where we're treated like outcasts by his wife's family), it was a pretty low-key weekend.

I think the highlight from today was when I was ironing a paper towel on our hardwood floors to try and remove all the wax that my mother-in-law accidentally spilled there. Two months ago.

It was even more hilarious watching me iron practically upside-down to get the wax off of the cabinet door.

And I've been doing everything possible to procrastinate doing work, including vacuuming the entire house (and not just a half-assed job, I used the tools).

So I must be desperate.

And now, I'm putting off work by making a yummy pot of bolognese sauce, enjoying a glass of wine and posting on my blog.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

I can't paint without wine!

Today I took my mom and mother-in-law to paint some pottery.

We had a really great time, and I surprised them with delish snacks and wine. We had the best (and only) spread in the place.

We were there for almost 5 hours!

I made some cute bowls for Vito...but don't tell him, they're his Christmas present!

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Friday, November 13, 2009

mr. kk knows me all. too. well.

So, I've been lusting after a pair of tan Frye Carson Pull Up cowboy boots for SO long.

But even with how much I love shoes, I just can't seem to commit to their $348 price tag. (I know, money should be no object with beauties like these! But I'm half "shoe whore" half "deal finder" so I can't justify paying full price.)

And, since I spend most of my life a day late and a dollar short, I've missed out on getting these boots at a reduced rate TWICE.

The first time was a few months ago, when Piperlime ran 20% off everything on their site. I hesitated too long and then the sale was over.

I swore that would never happen again.

Then, yesterday, I get an email that Nieman's is having FIRST CALL. I check, and lo and behold, they have a pair of Frye Carson SLOUCH boots on sale for $230. They have two sizes: 6 in Tan and a 10 in red. I don't pounce on them, because I'm not sure if the "Slouch" is the same as the "Pull Up" and if I'm going to spend the money then I want it to be the right pair. I start to research the difference, get wrapped up in work, run out early to a client meeting and don't look back. Today I check, and they're gone.

Of course.

Mr. KK knows all about these boots, as I talk about them incessantly. Not the details, just the fact that there's a pair of cowboy boots that I want. That's all he knows.

Today, I get an email from him asking what type of boots they are. I give him the name. And tell him not to buy them.

He then emails me and asks what color I want. I don't tell him and instead command him to to buy them.

He replies with this email:
( if you're keeping of list of reasons why I married Mr. KK, you can add this email to it)

"I would guess either tan, dark brown, or smoke…
dark brown because it’s classic and you need some type of brown boot because you have black boots. Tan because it’s just cool looking, would look good with jeans, and looks like a true cowboy boot. Smoke because it almost seems as though it could go with either brown or black…seems pretty universal…

If I had to pick one, I would say tan."

He's good!

(And he better not buy them!)

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Is spam getting smarter?

I don't trust anyone. It's awful. If a stranger on the street says 'hello', I immediately assume they're going to abduct me, steal my identity or ask me for money.

This impeccable judgement of mine was clouded when I received an email about my blog. It was very professional and well-written (no ridiculous grammar or punctuation), addressed to me, and even name-checked the title of a recent blog post in the body of the email. They said all the right things, like that I had a great writing style, and my blog was witty (flattery, btw, will get you everywhere).

The email was about the "gifted web writers" association. And they wanted to pay me to write! To a girl who hates her job and would give her left breast to write for a living, It was like a dream come true! I could write in my own voice, about product and other fun stuff.

"Click on it!" my work-hating, dreamy side of my brain urged.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" my realistic half answered.

Instead of clicking, I googled them, and a website came up. I clicked on the Google link and up came a semi-respectable looking page, that was, of course, "under construction". Clicking on the "contact us" buttom brought me to another page. With a name and address.

In israel.

Anyone else ever get something like this???

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

patrick swayze, this one's for you

Unless you live under a rock or in the 1800s, you remember the pottery wheel scene in the movie Ghost, when a young Demi Moore (who totally rocked the short-hair look, btw) couldn't sleep, so she was up crafting something on her pottery wheel (I mean, who hasn't?). And then, Patrick Swayze appears, sits his pretty ass down behind her, and they start molding clay together (wink, wink – if you catch my drift).

So, that's totally going to me this weekend.

Minus the clay-molding part.

Minus getting dirty.

Minus Patrick Swayze.

But if you add in my mother, my mother-in-law, a bottle of wine and a "paint your own pottery" day of fun, then my Saturday and that box office hit are pretty much interchangeable.

Both mothers spent their time growing up taking ceramics classes. And boy do we have the tchotchkes to prove it! Lighted ceramic trees at Christmas time, painted bunnies missing an ear for Easter, and even our baby banks that they're holding on to "just in case" (does a hand-painted baby bank's value increase with age? Because if so, these things are going to be worth a fortune!)

So as a Mother's Day gift this past May (yes, 6 months ago) I presented both Moms with a faux gift certificate for a day of painting pottery with Yours Truly. And this Saturday, we are cashing that in.

The place is in a nearby town and pretty cool, you can bring food and – most importantly – wine. Because everyone knows you paint WAY better with a buzz.

So warm up the wheel and dust off the paint brushes, KK's going to paint the town red.

Well, sort of.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

it's like secretly eating in your car, only worse

I'm having a really bad day.

So bad, that I can't wait to get into my car to go home so I can cry.

PS: I'll also be taking my tear-streaked face into a gas station to play the lottery tonight.
PPS: I believe that after winning my resignation letter will read something like, "I fucking quit."
PPS: If I don't get to post again today, please accept this god-awful post as my NaBlo for the day.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Vacationing is for the dogs

Vito in the car on the way TO Boston...

Vito in the car on the way HOME from Boston:

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Day 8 of NaBlo: home sweet home

(First off, I'm posting while watching The Amazing Race, and I have to say, the dudes have to stop crying like little bitches)

We had a great weekend in Boston! The weather couldn't have been better – sunny and cool, but warm enough to walk around the city I love so much.

We must've walked a zillion miles, eaten a trillion calories and saw a million rats. Yes, rats. Last night when we were walking Vito on the Common, he was this close to catching one. That's all I needed, an emergency trip to the vet hospital. We narrowly escaped one rat, when we were leaving and ran into two more, just hanging out not two feet away under a bush. And the rats in Boston? Are the size of squirrels.

It was our first time taking Vito to a hotel. And I have to say, next time he's staying home. It's not that he misbehaved, but we just felt so guilty every time we left the room. We'd have to run down the hall and hideout, listening, before we got on the elevator. We'd hear Vito cry and scratch at the door, then start howling and asking, "Where aaaaaare you guys? Come baaaaaack!" It was heartbreaking.

The good news was that we had a room at the end of the hall, away from every other room on the floor. The bad news was that we were near the ice machine, and for some reason – both nights – someone felt the need to fill their ice bucket at 2:38am. Which of course triggered Vito to bark. Which of course woke me up. Which of course called for me begging and pleading with Vito – and offering him everything from a Tbone to an hour-long walk the next day – to stop barking.

I was hoping to find more gems shopping, but only ended up with a dress from H&M. I was too lazy to try it on, so hopefully if fits. Usually everything from H&M runs small on me, mostly because their clothes are made to fit pre-pubescent Swedes. It's a great dress, though, so my fingers are crossed.

I've got more laundry to do than Kate Gosselin's nanny, and a crazy week coming up.

But I'm happy to say that even while on vacation, I didn't break NaBloPoMo even once.

I'm totally dedicated to you guys.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Oh, Boston, you've done it again

In just 36 hours you've managed to steal my heart and enable me to eat foods that would make Jillian Michaels cringe.

Today we mixed it up and went bowling with our parents. I managed to be the second highest scorer (behind Mr. KK of course), so obviously everyone played like shit.

We're getting ready for a champagne toast, then it's off to dinner in the North End.

Diet - I'll see YOU on Monday!

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Friday, November 6, 2009

It's never too early for a martini

We are celebrating with drinks and hot nuts (actual nuts like almonds and cashews...get your minds out of the gutter, people!) on Day 1 of our Boston weekend.

Next up, taking Vito for a walk on the common and meeting the girls for drinks!

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Because apparently I look like a clown-faced hooker

I went to CVS during lunch today. I wanted to get a card for my doctor for my last appointment tomorrow. It sounds kind of cheesy, but she did so much for me, and after tomorrow, I'll probably (hopefully) never see her again.

I didn't see any cards that said "I'm going to miss being molested by you at my checkups...these were a great 5 years. Oh, and thanks for saving my life! Your BF, kk."

After going back and forth between a "Good-bye" card and a "Thank You" card, I settled on a very simple "Thank You" card that was blank inside.

(Also, I've already instructed Mr. KK that he is to take a photo of me and Dr. F, as well as one of me giving a big "see ya!" salute in front of Dana Farber Cancer Center.)

So after the card aisle, I start to wander around CVS a bit. Which in itself, could be deadly. It's near the top of my list of stores I can't spend under $10 in – second only to Target.

I beeline to the cosmetics section (where did you think I'd go? Vitamins?) and pick up a few new eye shadows, which are 'Buy 1, Get 1 Free'.

As I'm finishing checking out, the register makes that special "BEEP BEEP BEEP" sound it makes when you're about to receive ExtraCare Card coupons.

I LOVE coupons! I also LOVE to shop with coupons and leave them in my wallet and forget to use them.

CASHIER: "Oh, and here's a coupon for Revlon!"

ME: "Oh, great!"

CASHIER: "Yes, I can see you like wearing makeup, so this should come in handy."


Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Rant & Rave Wednesday, kk-style

Little Ms. Blogger posts "Rant and Rave Wednesdays" weekly, and I'm hopping on the R&R band wagon this week.

Here goes...

RAVE: You know what this Friday is? It's my 5-year appointment with my oncologist in Boston! Fingers-crossed for a clean bill of health!

RANT: Clients who think they're copywriters. Or art directors. Or both.

RAVE: Did I mention I'm going to Boston this weekend?

RANT: Traffic for no reason. Sunny, cloudless sky and no accidents should NOT equal an hour commute.

RAVE: We've had Halloween candy in the house for over a month, and I have managed to eat zero pieces of Halloween candy.

RANT: Driving home in the dark every night. I feel like I work the graveyard shift.

RAVE: Some of my pants are a WEE bit baggy on me. (I'm not getting too excited, I'm headed towards a weekend of eating my way through a city...)

RAVE: Yay, me! I'm 4 for 4 on NaBloPoMo!

RAVE: Had a lunchtime mani today.

RAVE: Did I mention I'm going to Boston this weekend? 36 hours shy of being cancer-free, kids!

Hey, this was fun! And I'm happy to see I have more Raves than Rants!

How far is "too far" when it comes to Facebook?

A "friend" of mine (I hesitate to use that word, as she was only a classmate and we haven't talked since 12th grade science class) just posted this status:

"I'm in love with my anesthesiologist! I hope the baby comes soon!"


I think so.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

cooking with kk – a new WWFS installment!

Now that I have to write 30 posts in 30 days, I was thinking of all the things that I could write about, and food kept coming to the top of the list (this could also be because I'm perpetually starving).

So I started thinking maybe I should keep a record of some of the stuff that I cook at night. And maybe post a new recipe each week?

Would you guys like to get new recipe ideas?

Here's last night's creation:

Shrimp with Roasted Poblano Sauce
Serves 2


For the shrimp:

16 large shrimp, cleaned, shelled and deveined
2 Tbsp. creole seasoning (or chili powder)
salt, pepper and garlic salt
1 Tbsp canola oil

Toss shrimp with oil and seasonings.

Heat saute pan over medium heat. Pour shrimp (and any excess oil in bowl) into pan. Cook on one side until pink, about 3-4 minutes. Turn shrimp once, and continue cooking on second side for 2 minutes. Turn heat off under pan.

For the Poblano Sauce (adopted from Bobby Flay's recipe)
2 poblano peppers, roasted, peeled, seeded and chopped
1/8 cup red wine vinegar
2 Tbsp chopped parsley
1 Tbsp honey
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 to 1/3 cup olive oil

Pulse all ingredients EXCEPT oil in a mini food processor or blender until smooth. While motor is running, slowly drizzle in olive oil until creamy.

Side dishes

I made 2 servings of brown rice and seasoned them with salt and pepper. I placed the brown rice in 2 dishes and topped with 8 shrimp each. Drizzle shrimp and rice with poblano sauce.

I also sauteed a bunch of asparagus (with the ends cut off) in 2 Tbsp. of olive oil, salt, pepper and garlic salt over medium to medium-high heat for about 10-15 minutes (depending on how al dente you like your veggies).


I hope I do better at THIS 30-day committment (aka: NaBloPoMo)

About a month ago, I started Jillian Michael's 30-Day Shred.

Here's the breakdown on the proposed/actual:


Weight loss: up to 20 pounds
Duration: daily for 30 days
Results: shredded


Weight loss: 3 pounds (wtf???)
Duration: 4-5 times a week for 30 days
Results: dreaded

Okay, I wasn't faithful for 30 days...but add to that the fact that I've been practically starving myself (eating just enough to have the energy to do the stupid workout!). My daily menu consists of a bowl of Special K, a Lean Cuisine/Healthy Choice/salad with chicken for lunch, and protein plus 2 veggies for dinner.

Do I have to run out for new jeans in a smaller size?


Do I want to break out my bikini and wear it around the house because I'm so proud of my rockin' body?


Do I want to go and eat a tray of nachos?


Monday, November 2, 2009

Thanksgiving FAIL

I judge holidays on the food that goes with them. For example, I was never really a big fan of Thanksgiving, mainly because I don't love turkey. I mean, I'll eat for that one day, but if I don't have it for another 364 days, I'm okay with that.

Christmas Eve, on other hand, is my favorite holiday. Being from an Italian family (and luckily having married into one), our Christmas Eve celebration begins at 6pm and is course after course of yummy fish (from shrimp cocktail to calamari salad, to spaghetti and crab sauce to baked stuffed shrimp) accompanied by lots of wine.

In hopes of starting a holiday tradition in the new house four years ago, we hosted Thanksgiving. I took it upon myself to make this holiday mean more than just turkey. Each year I spend weeks crafting my menu. The number of guests range anywhere from 14-18. Everyone has their usual duties: my mother-in-law makes the turkey, my mother makes her famous mashed potatoes, Mr. KK's aunt makes sweet potatoes. My job? Well, I'm in charge of the side dishes and the highly-anticipated first course.

It's with this first course that I can be creative and really showcase my inner Martha Stewart. For example, our first Thanksgiving I made pumpkin and black bean soup, and served them in hollowed-out gourds. (The presentation was phenomenal, but I think Mr. KK still suffers from carpal tunnel from scooping out gourd flesh in record time Thanksgiving morning)

The year after that, I made rigatoni with pumpkin sauce. And last year, I made butternut squash ravioli with a sage brown butter sauce.

So of course, everyone looks forward to see what the first course on Thanksgiving will be.

And being the over-achiever that I am, I have already started planning my menu. And I like to do a dry-run of the first course, usually because it's something I've never made before and I want to be sure it's going to live up to my previous first course standards.

So yesterday, I spent the afternoon whipping up sweet potato gnocchi (from scratch!) with a cinnamon maple butter sauce.

the gnocchi on my beautiful homemade pasta board!

Sounds delish, right?

Here's the finished product:

They look great, but even though I added more flour than the recipe called for, I knew the dough was off.

They tasted okay – not great – and definitely not "first course" material.

I'm so disappointed. Not only because I spent the entire day preparing them, but because I had such high hopes. They combined the perfect flavors to compliment Thanksgiving dinner.

So back to the drawing board...or should I say, pasta board?

(in case anyone's counting, this is Day 2 of NaBloPoMo...and I posted!)

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Tricks, treats and a whole month of me

I love our house in the Fall.

Four years ago this weekend, we moved into our house. It was also the weekend that we discovered that our doorbell didn't work. But we never fixed it. We thought a broken doorbell would help alleviate some of the pain Vito associates with Halloween. Maybe he'd bark less if the little ghosts and goblins couldn't announce their arrival with a chiming bell.

Alas, we were wrong. Even without the doorbell, Vito knew someone (or a group of someones) was at our door, begging for candy. He would bark himself hoarse, throwing his little black body up against the glass french door, while I furiously threw candy into the open bags and pillowcases of half-petrified kids. Oh, it's quite a scene, let me tell you.

This year we were going out for Halloween – the first time in like 7 years. We were decked out in our 1920's best, and ready to ship Vito off to my parents' house for the night. They live on a dead end, and rarely get trick-or-treaters.

Even though I knew we were going out, I still made my little Halloween treat bags for the kiddies, in hopes that a few little monsters would come to our house before we had to go out. (We ended up leaving a lot earlier than I had hoped, so we are now left with over 100 treat bags filled with candy. Poor Mr. KK, he's doomed. He has ZERO will power when it comes to candy.)

The half hour we had trick or treaters was the strangest 30 minutes I've ever had on Halloween.


Ding dong!

What the?

The doorbell works again???


Standing on the doorstep is a little witch.

Vito is bouncing up and down, blocking the door to the foyer. The little witch watches as Vito and I begin a sort of comical dance as I try and maneuver myself through an opening so thin even Gumby would have difficulty. I have one hand on Vito's chest in an attempt to push him back so I can scoot into the foyer and get the door shut behind me. In the midst of his barking he almost takes off my hand. I'm bending over, and can feel a draft up the back of my flapper dress. I'm finally able to slam the door shut, and Vito's barking is ever-so muffled, but his little body on the glass door is loud as can be.

Little witch: "Trick or treat!" This girl's got some patience, as it's taken me 3 full minuted to move 2 feet and answer the door.

Vito serenades the scene from behind the french door.

KK: "Trick or treat!"

Little witch: "I like your dog."

KK: "Really? Do you want him?"

I drop a treat bag into her bag and she bounds off the steps.

I coerce Vito upstairs and put up a baby gate. Unfortunately this gives him a better view of the front door and neighborhood, but thankfully keeps him away from the door.


Ding dong!


A pre-teen boy is standing on the steps wearing his Little League uniform. I mean, really? That's his costume? Where's the originality?

Boy: "Trick or treat." Said with much less enthusiasm as my little witch.

KK: "Where's your bag?"

Boy: "Huh?"

KK: "Your bag. For your candy? Why don't you have one?"

Come on now. You're getting free candy all over the neighborhood. The least you can do is make a frickin' effort.

Boy: "I don't have one. You giving out candy?" He eyes me suspiciously, but keeps a cautious eye on the ferocious beast at the top of the stairs.

I HAND him a treat bag and he runs off the steps.

Seriously, where's he going to keep all of his candy???


Ding dong!


A woman dressed as a black cat is standing on our doorstep. I approach the door with the bowl of candy bags. I peek behind her to see if she's hiding a child somewhere. Do adults go trick or treating now?

CAT: "Hi. I don't need any candy. I'm your neighbor Sheila's niece. I was hoping we could borrow a corkscrew? I thought for sure you'd have one."

Well, if there's anything we have in this house (besides 118 candy treat bags) it's alcohol and all booze-related accessories.

Even though she promises to bring it right back, I refrain from giving her my favorite Rabbit wine opener. Instead, I give her a heavy-duty twisty one that we've never used.

Mr. KK (from upstairs): "Did you just give a child something from our bar?"


Ding dong!


The little witch is back on our doorstep.

I open the door and she hands me our corkscrew.

((get out the trumpets and start the fanfare...it's Day 1 of NaBloPoMo at 'will work for shoes'! I'm not sure I'm ready for this – hell, I'm not sure YOU'RE ready for this. I should have started with something easier, like NaShoBuMo "National Shoe Buying Month" or NaCoWhiMo "National Complaining and Whining Month". Fasten your seat belts...it's going to be a crazy month!))