i love power tools

This conversation occurred last night.

Mr. KK: "I bought a new saw today. You'll love it."

KK: "Why? Is it pink?"

Mr. KK: ((raised eyebrows))

KK: "What?"

Mr. KK: "You think I bought a pink saw?"

KK: "If you did, I would like it."

Mr. KK: "It's not pink. It's orange. You love orange."

KK: "Well, not all orange. Is it Home Depot orange? I don't like Home Depot orange. Or is it a nice tangerine like my mixer? I like that orange..."

Mr. KK: ((blank stare))

um, I want this.

Now.

Oh, Kate, you always know how to make me want you.

travel. ugh. open letters to make me feel better.

Dear company I work for,

While I DID love Chicago when you sent me last summer, I was hoping the next time I visited could be with Mr. KK, and not with coworkers. Again.

Oh, and about the THREE MORE upcoming trips to Chicago? I mean, really? And don't even get me started about making me fly out on Easter. I'm afraid of what I might do to you.

***

Dear two Type A personalities that I'm traveling with,

When we arrived at the little kiosk in the airport to call for the hotel shuttle, was it necessary for BOTH of you to pick up a phone and do it? Like it was a race?

It would be peachy if you could just relax a little bit...for my sanity's sake.

***

Dear seatmate who left her lung on the plane,

Are your arms broken?

Because you didn't lift them once to cover your mouth.

WTF?

***

Dear cab driver,

How many air fresheners did you have in your taxi? 458?

Good Christ. I'm pretty sure my hair still smells like Vanillaroma.

***

Dear Guiliana Rancic,

I'm in your hometown!

I went to Sushi Samba last night for dinner, but I didn't see you.

Maybe we can meet up for a drink later?

***

Dear Renaissance Hotel,

Thank you for my yummy in-room breakfast.

Unfortunately, I will now need a nap in order to stay awake during my 4-hour meeting.


(See? I could never TRULY disappear. I just love it here too much!)

a disappearing act

for me, that is.

i'm going to be gone for a little while.

nothing major, just lots of life and work going on.

i promise to be back soon, with some really juicy stuff for this blog.

hugs,
kk

Novocaine!

Today I'm going for part deux of my dental surgery: the implant!

I'm super excited.

(not)

I probably wouldn't be very good on Survivor

I'm not a "roughing it" kind of girl.

I don't like camping.
(Although I like the idea of camping, I don't like the idea of no indoor plumbing)

I'm a little OCD.
(When things don't go according to plan, or – god forbid – there is no plan, I start to twitch)

I can't survive without electricity.
(Or any of the things associated with electricity; ie, things with plugs)

This past weekend, the Northeast was pummeled with a bad rain storm and damaging winds. While my area escaped rather unscathed, there area where I work was hit pretty hard. Lots of coworkers lost power. One poor woman watched both of her cars get totaled when a tree fell on her garage. Lots of people were showering at the gym because they had no hot water. (Okay, this is something I would use my gym for. Not for working out, but as a satellite bathroom...genius!)

And on Monday, I came to work only to find out we didn't have any internet or email access.

Um, excuse me?

We all sat there – well-educated, smart human beings – flabbergasted at how we were going to work without email or the internet. How would we get layouts to clients? How would we communicate changes to team members? You mean we had to – gasp! – pick up the phone? And dial it? With our own hands?

What was this? 1988?

(thankfully, all has returned to "normal" – I am able to email/IM/surf the web/update FB all at the same time again. Phew.)

Nerd alert!

Happy Ides of March!

So, get this: before I was a shoe fiend, I was a Latin geek.

For.Six.Whole.Years.

And because of that, I will never forget the Ides of March, Julius Caesar or the didn't-quite-make-it-out-of-Ancient-Rome catch phrase "Alea iacta est" (translation: The die has been cast. Creepy, right?)

The funny thing about learning Latin, is that it's a dead language. There are never new words or phrases. You don't speak Latin. It's not something you brush up on before a big trip.

So while everyone else was taking Spanish and Italian (you know, languages you can actually use), I was learning how to conjugate verbs and chanting "sum, es, est, sumus, estis, sunt!"

(Not exactly the stuff that gets you asked to the Junior Prom)

But in the midst of nerding it up Colosseum-style, I had a really, really great teacher. Who loved her job. Looking back, I'm a little jealous that she had found her calling in life, went after it, and loved it.

Case in point: Mrs. B knew everything you could know about the Latin language. She also knew she wanted to teach Latin. Her husband? Also a Latin teacher (what are the chances?). Even more incredulous, was that they named their daughter 'Julia', after Julius Caesar.

And, perhaps her most endearing quality, was that she could put her entire fist in her mouth.

(Try it, it's really hard!)

So this post is for Mrs. B, who taught me that Pius Aeneas was a real stand-up guy, Mount Vesuvius erupted in 79AD, and that it's possible to have a job that you love doing.

Even if it's dead.

Ladies and gentleman, we have an eater!

On a train to the concrete jungle, squished in a seat next to a woman who is a complete wreck. Not to mention a seat hog, out-loud book reader, and messy cereal eater.

I didn't have to accessorize today. I'm wearing bran flakes.


Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

is it bad to want to scream "shut up!"?

I sit across from a very loud coworker.

She talks loudly.

She eats loudly.

She chats into her cell phone at a high decibel all day long.

And she never shuts her door.

Today, she's blaring her music.

The best part?

She's singing along.

To "It's A Hard Knock Life" from the Annie soundtrack.

Imitating an 8-year old's voice.

Lord, help me.

Fine line: dating and interviewing

My company recently won a really big account.

Which is really exciting. Until the work starts pouring in and you don't have the bodies in place to do it.

So we need to hire people, pronto.

(PSA: Do you live in Connecticut? Do you want to live in Connecticut? Do you want to work in promotional marketing? If you read this blog, chances are your answer is no. But if you're a masochist, please feel free to email me your resume.)

So my days have been filled with interviews. I've listened to more people talk about themselves in the past few weeks than Dr. Phil has.

And I bet Dr. Phil would agree with me: interviewing and dating are very similar disasters.

Case in point:

You wake up with a nervous stomach.
You stand in front of your closet forever trying to decide what to wear. A dress seems too stuffy. Jeans look like you're not trying.
You check your watch a million times. You don't want to be too early. You definitely don't want to be late.
You meet. Is shaking hands too formal? Should you high-five? Light arm punch?
You talk a little about yourself. You're sure to ask questions, too, so you don't seem too eager. Or full of yourself.
You feel it's going well. You're being asked questions about yourself. To "get to know you better".
You make jokes. You come off totally cool, engaging and poised.
You hear: "It was great to meet you" and "I'll call you". You believe it. You totally just rocked it.

So you wait.

A call doesn't come.

But what happened?

You both had a good time, right?

You were funny!

And poised!

And charming!

You thought you hit it off.

Apparently...not.

Back to square one.

Dating? Interviewing? It's all the same thing!

And it makes me glad I am happily married and have a job. I just couldn't take the stress!

Perhaps we need a more elaborate "avoidances" button

I named my GPS lady Flo.

Flo and I have been hanging out for a few years. We've gotten used to each other's nuances (her incessant demands, me constantly challenging her to 'recalculate' her route). But we've formed an unspoken understanding that she is to get me from Point A to Point B, no matter what.

And this worked for a while.

But it seems, that Flo just might be on the fritz.

Mr. KK and I took Flo with us this weekend on our weekend jaunt to Philly, to celebrate Mr. KK's birthday.

We tolerated Flo taking us over the George Washington Bridge in NY, even though we would much prefer to take the Tappan Zee. We accepted it when she took us off I-95 onto a secondary road, on the last leg of the trip.

But then, the trip turned into this:

Mr. KK: "She's telling us to take 30 West. Then straight on the ramp ahead."

KK: "I remember this area from when I went to Philly with the girls. It's really confusing."

Mr. KK: "It won't be confusing if we follow her. Bear right, then straight."

KK: "This way? Or this way? Or is it that way?" (semi-frantic; I HATE being lost)

FLO: "Recalculating!"

Dammit!

FLO: "Make a U-turn as soon as possible."

Mr. KK: "We're on a divided highway, Flo!"

FLO: "Recalculating!"

Gah!

KK: "We didn't even get a chance!"

FLO: "In 200 feet, make a Right onto Main St."

KK: "I'll never get across 3 lanes of traffic to make that turn!"

FLO: "Recalculating!"

Lord, help us.

I take the nearest right I can. Flo gets her bearings.

FLO: "Continue on Chestnut St. for 1.5 miles."

Which was fine, until Chestnut Street turned into the ghe-tto. With a capital G. And the best part? There was a light every 10 feet. And we caught the red at every one of them.

If Mr. KK wasn't in the car with my, I just may have pooped myself.

Mr. KK: "Just keep your eyes straight ahead."

Thank god it was still light out. The only thing missing from the neighborhood were people crowded around a trash can fire to keep warm.

FINALLY, Flo has us turn onto a MAJOR highway.

KK: "There's the Ben Franklin Bridge!" My hands are shaking and I almost cry with relief.

While we're sitting on the bridge in traffic NOT MOVING, Flo recalculates three times.

WTF?

KK: "I think Flo is sick."

Mr. KK: "I think we need to find an alternate means of directions for the ride home."

I'm sorry Flo, but it seems our run together may be over.

a lovely distraction

Every morning I stand in my closet, hating my winter clothes even more than I did the day before. That black turtleneck? I wear it every week. My oatmeal cords? Practically worn out.

You can't walk into a store this time of year without being immersed in the amazing bright spring colors. Yellows, oranges, turquoises and greens...the new vibrant clothes just make you want to throw your wardrobe in the trash.

Since the only shopping I've been doing lately is "window shopping" (whether through an actual store window or window on my computer's browser), I fell in love with these beauties today. I just want to run away from winter with (in) them.

not really news

Imaginary conversation with the Musical Queen of weird*:







KK: 'I'm shocked'

*Now, please don't go sending me hate mail. I'm actually a big fan of Lady Gaga. She has this incredulous talent for producing songs that stick in my head for days. I'm just saying...what person finds stuck-on hair in the shape of a big BOW sexy???

not nice, Kate

Just moments after Mr. KK and I decide to curb our spending for the next few months, I get this email:

TO: KK
FROM: Kate Spade
RE: Kate Spade sample sale – up to 75% off!

must.resist.entering.credit.card.info.

It took every iota of will power to keep my virtual shopping cart empty.

Some of the beauties I had to resist:

a watched phone never rings

Ever drive yourself nuts waiting for a phone call?

Check your phone incessantly?

To make sure that it's ON?

Works?

Lights up?

Still accepts incoming calls?

Hasn't lost it's battery?

Chain yourself to your desk waiting? (even though you have a cell phone that's, well, portable?)

Put your cell phone in your pocket so you can get up and get a drink, but then worry it won't ring because it's upside down?

Refrain from going to the Ladies' Room because cell coverage could be a little spotty in the stall?

Check your phone one more time because, well, it might spontaneously shut off because you're talking about it?*

*What? It totally could!

my weekend: from elderly phone calls to a 3-cocktail lunch

The Northeast has been having some crappy weather. And it's different from town to town. It could be pouring rain at my house, but where I work is getting a foot of snow. Truly bizarre.

Due to the inclement weather, I worked from on Friday. But it was hard to get anything done being home all day with this distracting cuteness:


Friday night Mr. KK and I relaxed with cocktails and appetizers, then settled in with a bottle of vino and yummy shrimp risotto.

Saturday we drove to Mystic to meet friends for lunch. It's been almost a year since we've seen them, so we had so much to catch up on. As usual, we out-lunched everyone else in the restaurant, and finally left when we couldn't take the dirty looks the waitstaff were giving us. But oh! What is better than afternoon cocktails and a warm, toasty lobster roll???

On Sunday I was going to make a trip to a specialty grocery store because they had sea bass on sale. (Yes, I probably spent more in gas than I was saving on the fish, but so what?) In thinking I was doing a good deed, I asked my mother-in-law if she'd like to come. She then asked her sister-in-law to come along. Then, upon telling MY mother where we were going and hearing her devastated "Oh" response for not being part of the group, I invited HER along for the ride. So what should have been a quick trip to the store for fish and bananas, turned into a 3.5 hour shopping extravaganza where I spent $75. WTF?

And then Sunday afternoon I got this call:

GRAM: "Can you look someone's age up on the internet?"

KK: "Yes. Sometimes."

GRAM: "Can you look up my lady friend's age? I was talking to her the other day and she mentioned she was going to be 88 on her next birthday. But I KNOW she had her 90th birthday a few years ago. Can you find out how old she is?"

So, my grandmother wants me to go all Sherlock Holmes for her to prove to her friend that she doesn't know her own age. Um, okay.

GRAM: "Ok. Her name is Josephine Bigilante."

KK: "How do you spell it?"

GRAM: "J-O-S.."

KK: "No...her last name."

GRAM: "Oh. B-I-G-I-L-A-N-T-E. That's how I spell it. Is that right?"

KK: "I don't know if it's right. I don't even know who she is."

GRAM: "Can you look it up for me? I know she's over 90."

So – surprise, surprise – Gram's lady friend isn't on the internet. When I told this to my mother she said to me, "Couldn't you find her age through Facebook?"

My response: "Um, I'm pretty sure Josephine isn't on Facebook. She's 88-92 years old, for God's sake."