I'm like the Goldilocks of bathroom lighting

I live in an old house. Old houses tend to have one bathroom on the second floor, as opposed to the master bath PLUS a second bathroom that many of the newer houses have. I do not mind this, as I love my old house, and it's just the 2 of us living there. Plus, who wants one more bathroom to clean?

Our bathroom has an overhead light as well as three lights above the vanity.

About two months ago, one of the lights above the vanity mirror went out. So, doing what any normal wife would do, I asked Mr. KK to change it.

For one reason or another (perhaps he forgot, or maybe it was just on principal), Mr. KK never got around to changing the light bulb.

So I would shower and put on my makeup with one less light.

I know it's only one light, but for some reason, without that light bulb, the bathroom always seemed dim.

Every few days a conversation like this would take place:

KK: "Hey, that light is still out."
MR. KK: "I know, I know. I'll change it."

Two days later, sans changing of the light bulb:

KK: "I'm tired of showering in the dark."
MR. KK: "We don't have any more light bulbs. I have to buy them."

A few weeks later, I enter the bathroom and turn on the lights. It's VERY dim, but I notice that Mr. KK had finally changed the light bulb. In fact, he changed ALL THREE of the light bulbs to 60 watt fluorescent energy saver bulbs.

So as I'm getting ready, the bathroom starts getting brighter.

And brighter.

And BRIGHTER.

Finally, the bathroom is equator-bright and I think need sunscreen.

KK: "Wow. You changed the light bulbs."
MR. KK: "Is it too bright?"
KK: "I may need my sunglasses to shower."

Also? These new lights MAGNIFY all of my grey hair.

And I've been showing up at work looking like a clown, because there is no amount of makeup that is making a difference on my face under those spotlights.

Flu Shot, Shmu Shot

This is the first year in eight years that I've gotten the flu shot.

This is the first year in eight years that I've gotten sick this often.

Somebody, hang me out to dry

It was almost a blessing to have to come to work today, because that meant I wouldn't be drinking any more alcohol.

The surprise party was a smashing success – my mother-in-law was surprised and I was smashed.

Case in point:

Yesterday my parents came over for birthday cake and coffee, and my mother walked in with apple turnovers.

I'm a planner; I don't like when people just show up with things.

KK: "What are those?"
MOM: "I brought them for dessert."
KK: "You didn't have to bring anything."
MOM: "I told you last night I was going to bring them and you said it was fine. Don't you remember?"

Wagon? Where are you. I need to jump on.

TGI-mutha effin-F

Whew! What a long ass week.

The week had some ups: I got a lovely brow waxing.

And some downs (literally): I fell down the stairs.

So I guess it all balances itself out.

I had dinner at my mom's house this week, mainly because she needed Mr. KK to hang a few decorative pieces she bought for the living room. And because my mother has zero faith in my father as a handyman, she asked us to come over and help.

The best part of this whole story was the conversation that went on before the actual date was set. It went something like this:

MR. KK: "I HAVE to get over to your mother's to hang that stuff." (Notice how we refer to it as my "mother's" house and not my "parents'" house? That should tell you something.)

KK: "How about Tuesday? We can just eat dinner there." Note: self-invitation.

MR. KK: "Sounds good. I'm sure she'll want your opinion."

KK: "As long as she doesn't make her new-fangled meatloaf recipe."

One hour later:

KK: "We thought we'd come over on Tuesday night. Mr. KK can hang the stuff."

MOM: "Sure! Stay for dinner. I'll make that delicious meatloaf."

I'm sure NO ONE saw that coming.

As for the weekend, my mother-in-law's surprise 65th birthday is finally here.

This was something that my father-in-law mentioned casually ("I was thinking we could have a surprise party for her for her birthday. You know of places and guests and stuff") before hopping on a plane for 10 days. And while I LOVE planning parties, it could not have come at a busier time. Oh, did I mention her birthday was a mere month away?

So in a month I:
• Compiled a guest list
• Called restaurants for pricing and availability
• Created invitations
• Printed and cut invitations
• Addressed envelopes
• Sampled hors d'oeuvres
• Collected RSVPs
• Communicated with the restaurant manager
• Made up a silly story as to why we were going to dinner at 5pm on a Saturday
• Dodged a questioning mother-in-law

So I'm ready for this party to happen.

Just so my mother-in-law will stop badgering the family with questions.

Happy Friday!

Dear Spring,

Hurry your ass up and get here already.

Hugs,
kk

Boston warm fuzzies

I realized that I was so wrapped up in my crazy fall down my staircase that I forgot to tell you all about my fabulous weekend in Boston!

I think that everyone has a town/city that has stolen their heart. A place you lived that was so perfect, it was as if the city was designed just for you. And even though you've moved away, every time you go back you want it be like you never left. You visit all your old stomping grounds, call it "The Common" because only Bostonians know it's not called "The Commons", and get angry when a new place has popped up that you don't know about. You still consider that city yours.

And no matter how sad you are that you no longer live there, nothing – and I mean nothing – could replace the feeling of awesomeness when you're walking down the street, and someone mistakes you for a local.

Could there be anything better?

This happened not once, but TWICE this weekend.

And on both occasions, people asked us for directions. And, I'm proud to say, that I was able to answer them every time. I pointed the out-of-breath frazzled guy over to Newbury Street, and the blind woman on her way to the Inbound Green Line.

I guess what they say is true – you can take us out of Boston, but we'll go kicking and screaming, and totally pretend that we still live there.

Q: What swollen, black and blue all over?

A: Me

(if I were a contortionist I'd post a pic)

Everything hurts

I took a nasty spill down the stairs in our house this morning...and every so often a new body part starts screaming.

I got up early this morning to use the treadmill. After a glorious weekend of eating our way through Boston (followed by family birthday dinner for Mr. KK at his parents' house), it was time to get back on track.

It was early, it was dark and in my attempt to not wake the house, I must've missed a step, which sent me bouncing down our HARDWOOD staircase. Yeow! I did my best to grab something – anything – to stop myself, but all I ended up with was a strip of blue painting tape from the railing.

Needless to say, my loud fall jolted Mr. KK out of a dead sleep.

Points of pain right now: my left elbow, my tail bone, my left heel and my ribs.

Tomorrow morning is NOT going to be fun.

I blame the sexy monkey slippers.

Totally blew it

Today I had a meeting in NYC with other agencies for one of our clients.

And their offices? ARE IN THE SAME BUILDING AS THE FOOD NETWORK!

I was right there! Ten feet away!

I had my chance to sneak off, ride the elevator to their floor, and wow them (read: beg them) for a show.

(I didn't even have any FN sightings, though I had my eyes peeled for Bobby Flay. I'd even have taken Sandra Lee or Sunny Anderson...anyone!)

My heart is still pounding

Last night on my way home from work I watched an accident happen – less than 10 feet from my car.

I was just 2 streets away from home, which reminded me of when I was a fresh-faced 16-year-old driver and my mother would remind me that most accidents happen within a mile of your house.

It was dark, and I was on a heavily traveled 4 lane road (2 lanes on each side) and I was turning left.

A car coming towards me was also turning left onto the street across from the one onto which I was attempting to turn. I couldn't go anywhere because there were still cars coming towards me in the second lane. I was waiting patiently as the guy across from put his blinker on and didn't really attempt to slow down at all.

I remember thinking, after this car on my right I can give his the flash that it's clear to go.

But he didn't wait for my flash, he just turned. It was like my mind was in slow motion.

OMG, he's turning.
He didn't even really slow down.
The car on my right is totally going to hit him.

And hit him she did. She slammed into him going about 45mph. He had turned far enough so she that smashed into his rear passenger door. She pushed his car a little bit. My car shook a little from the impact.

I was frozen. My heart was throbbing in my throat, trying to escape my chest.

My first thought was, please please please, don't anybody hit ME trying to avoid this accident.

My second thought was, I hope they're okay.

A young guy jumped out from the car that had been hit. He seemed to be okay and was repeating, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

A woman then got out of her car screaming, "What the hell is wrong with you? Didn't you see me?" (obviously, he didn't) "What the hell is wrong with you?"

There was finally a break in traffic and I turned left and the hell outta there. The kid was pulling out his cellphone, presumably to call the cops. Or perhaps a really good lawyer.

I'm, too sexy for this blog

A big thank you to Little Ms Blogger for bestowing upon me the Sexy Blogger Award!

(I really needed this, yesterday, on a scale of 0-100, I'd put my sexiness at about a 3)

So here are six (PG–rated) sexy things about me:

1. I wear a thong everyday
2. I always wear sky-high heels (except with pajamas; then I wear my uber-sexy monkey slippers)
3. I'm smart (some people find that sexy, right? RIGHT???)
4. I'm a great kisser
5. I can make someone feel like we're the only two people in a crowded room
   
6. I'm a girly girl but can totally hang with the guys

What (just barely) didn't make the list: my teeth grinding (and super sexy night guard), my need to eat garlic until it's coming out of my pores and my affinity for cheesy reality TV.

today, EVERYBODY'S irish

Slainte!

The $450 birthday card

I was raised on two theories: “just in case” and “you never know”.

Because of this, I have never lived a day without health insurance. When I was no longer covered by my parents’ policy, I had my own. When I was interviewing for jobs my father reiterated to me how a solid health insurance plan was more important than a larger salary (try telling this to someone who is about to get their first real paycheck – and has rent and car payments due!).

So when we got Vito, of course the first thing I did was get him Pet Insurance. (Yes, they have this. If you wonder what kind of suckers purchase it, hello. It’s me.)

There are a bunch of different types of plans (I won’t bore you with the details), but the bottom line is, it’s just like human health insurance. You pay for it every month “just in case” something happens to you, but at the end of the year, more often than not, you’re put more out of your pocket to pay for the insurance than you would have had you not had the insurance.

Sure, I get small reimbursements for “well visits” and heart worm and flea and tick medications. But the insurance only really pays off if something big happens, which it won’t, because Vito is going to live forever.

So for my hundreds of dollars each year, I get peace of mind.

And Vito gets a really expensive birthday card.

In one day the whole month of April changed

Yesterday was one of those days that was uneventful, yet at the same time, a million things happened.

My April has gone from jam-packed with awesomeness to...not.

I will no longer be going to the Joel McHale show, as it has been postponed.

I will no longer be going on vacation, as it has been postponed.

I certainly hope my birthday is still on.

(On a positive note: I am loving my new grapefruit spoon!)
((It's the little things, people))

Men and women will never understand each other

Happy Birthday, Vito!

I can't believe my little pupperoni is 7 today!

Today calls for extra birthday belly rubs and kisses!


Happy Birthday, sweet boy!

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE email

(what I'm doing right now: eating calamari salad from the market down the street. The verdict: mine's better.)

Isn't it so fitting that after a gloriously beautiful weekend we are greeted with a rainy, crappy Monday?

My mood today has gone from great, to bad to indifferent. I got an email from someone and I didn't like the tone. We're writing about some big, important stuff, and I just didn't feel the love in the email I got back. So it put me in a bad mood. That's the trouble with email. It's hard to interpret sometimes. Maybe the email wasn't super nice, but it wasn't super mean either, and I'm totally reading too much into it. I don't know. I just expected more...words. And warmth.

So, to cheer myself up, I went to the grocery store during lunch.

On to some fun. Here's a random weekend recap:

• Babies. We visited my friend J this weekend who is so beautifully pregnant I could not help but envy her complete and utter content with life.

• Grapefruit. To make my life easier, I bought a grapefruit spoon this weekend. You know the ones with the serrated edges? Love it!

• Vacation. We found one we loved last week. Didn't book it. Now it's $200 more. Crap.

• Gram. My super-cute grandmother left me this voicemail yesterday: "KK, it's your grandmother. I just wanted to tell you that I love 12 pounds last month. I couldn't believe it and had to let you know." I didn't even know she was trying to lose weight. I mean, I WISH I was her age so I could finally stop fighting with myself and eat whatever the hell I wanted and just not care anymore if I had to wear track suits 24/7. How did she do it? The Special K diet. Seriously.

• RSVPs. I was tasked by my father-in-law to plan a surprise 65th birthday party for my mother-in-law (in all my spare time). Invitations are out, and Mr. KK and I have bets as to when/if the delinquents in his family will respond. (Hint: they had to be called to RSVP to my bridal shower, our wedding and the anniversary party two years ago. Not RSVPing? Is my PET PEEVE.)

To use my favorite oxymoron of all time: Happy Monday!

We Should Start Hiring 6 Year Olds

Today a coworker of mine came to work with "office rules" written out in crayon on a piece of construction paper from her 6 year-old daughter.

They are brilliant.

1. NO throwing garbage.

2. NO yelling in the office.

3. NO breathing fast.
(I'm not quite sure where she thinks her mother works...)

4. NO jogging.

5. NO sweating.

A girl who bans jogging? She's my kind of boss.

I was an only child and i watched a lot of TV

Does anyone else remember a 70's TV show called "Madam" that featured a paper-mache-esque puppet?

Anyone else old enough to remember this show?

Perhaps this will help:



(oh, and speaking of being old, the other day I was chatting with Mr. KK – who is 2 years my junior – and I happened to mention Shrinky Dinks. And he said to me – and couldn't be more serious – "what the hell are Shrinky Dinks?")

I want to be next

It seems everyone is going on vacation.

My friends T and L just got back from a glorious Caribbean cruise where they swam with dolphins.

Last week I picked up my in-laws from the airport from their 10-day Miami adventure, which included many mojitos, a bar crawl in Key West and a cruise to the Bahamas.

Fellow blogger Muffy just got back from a jaunt to Mexico (one of my top 3 favorite places on the planet) where she consumed 7 trees-worth of avocados.

And even my parents, who had to cancel their original vacation due to Dad discovering a stubborn and large kidney stone, are already planning a new and improved getaway.

So add all that to a super stressful work environment, a foot of snow and a large tax refund, and you have one little girl who is desperate to get away from it all.

And once I get something in my head, there's no stopping me.

On to expedia...

take a letter.

Dear Healthy Choice Cafe Steamers™,

I only bought you because you were on sale.

I know it's a new product and maybe you're still ironing out the kinks.

So here's a friendly consumer suggestion: rename your product: "Healthy Choice Cafe Salty".

Because, good lordy, each bite was like licking a salt cube. And by "each bite" I mean "all 4 bites". Because minus the carrots I was able to easily pick out (thank you), that's about all that was left. In order to trick myself into thinking I was eating a full meal, I cut the meat and potatoes up so small that an infant could gum them down with no problem. So it took me – the slowest eater in the east (family and friend awarded title) – under 5 minutes to eat lunch. It took longer to microwave the meal than it took for me to eat it.

And while I appreciate your unique design to steam the veggies and meat separate from the sauce, it's just not enough to make me buy you again.

Parched and hungry in CT,
kk

I've been a naughty girl

I'm doing my best to save money. And not buy things that I don't technically need.

And while there's a foot of snow on the ground, and the stores are all filled with vibrant and fun spring clothes and accessories that I want (read: kill for), I have held my ground.

I haven't made a single purchase in months.

But then I saw these amazingly-wonderful-I-have-to-have-them shoes:



So I brought them.

And it felt awesome.

Next, I'm booking a vacation on which to wear them.