wait...what???

I'm going to sound like a cliché for just a moment here but...where the hell did this year go?

I remember it being January 2 and I was heading back to my old job after my 18-month hiatus. Then Mr. KK and I were in Puerto Rico for, like, 5 minutes. Then I was eating my body weight in lobster on our family vacation. Then the house was filled with family for Thanksgiving. And now here I am, sitting in a living room void of Christmas decorations (we got a little zealous during the snowstorm the other day) getting ready to live the last day of the year.

2013 Wish List:

Run the annual Labor Day 5k and beat my time.

A BIG vacation for me and Mr. KK.

Mr. KK (finally) makes the butcher block cutting board for our kitchen island, so we can get rid of the makeshift ghetto plywood counter top we've been using.

Lose those last 5 pounds.

Be more selfish at work, and stick to my "work/life" balance.

Cook one new recipe a month.

Keep at the gym.

And, of course, be better about blogging.


Happy New Year, blog world!

Catch you on the flip side!



Do they still call it "Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve" even though Dick Clark is hosting the big countdown in the sky?

kk's favorite things

Oprah isn't the only one who can have favorite things! 
(Though she can still be the only one who gives away her favorite things...this girl hasn't won Powerball just yet.)

It's that time of year...when everyone under the sun puts out their Gift Guides.

I've done the due diligence and scoured them all, and have come up the best gifts that are on my every girl's list.

Mixing bowls from West Elm. $59/set of 3

Cuisinart SmartStick Immersion Blender. $34.95

(this could be on the list because my immersion blender died right before I was going to puree the soup for Thanksgiving dinner. this is one of those tools that you don't use all the time, but when you need it, it's awesome.)

Mustache iPhone case. $98 

Mustaches are everywhere, yeah yeah yeah. For the record, I stole a beer glass from a bar with a mustache on it WAY before they were a thing. This 'stache-decorated iPhone case is a 'must'! 

Frye Melissa Button Boots. $328

I'm not sure if these were truly on a Gift Guide, or just on MY gift list. Frye's break in perfectly and fit like a glove.

Le Creuset 2 1/4 qt Saucier. $180

A girl can't have enough Le Creusets, that's what I always say!

This pretty blue goes amazingly well with my orange stove.

Essie + Bracelets = fabulous. $50

This girly collaboration from BaubleBar is one part Essie nail polish and 3 parts trendy bracelet. Design your own collection in a variety of must-have colors.

Murray's Cheese of the Month Club. from $275

I'm a cheese whore. Even my high school questionnaire said so.

With all the junk mail we get, imagine having THIS deliciousness delivered to your door???

Julia Child's Biography and Cookbook. $17 and $40

My very own personal homage to Julia. Bring on the butter!

Aerie Fuzzy Popover. $50 

A top that looks luxe but feels like fleece? With a fur collar? Where are my leggings and boots??

 Corkcicle wine chiller. $24

This gift is so that I can keep the white wine chilled for my mother. But I love that you can keep white on the table without having a ceramic snuggie.

Pet Silhouette Art. $35

Vito will look fabulous.

"Made In America" skillets. various prices.

I don't actually want this, considering the "Connecticut" pan is $250 and barely fit a fried egg. But how cool are these???

Happy Shopping!

Next up: Thanksgiving recap.

A blog post 20 years in the making.

Last night was my 20-year high school reunion. 

(if that's not an opening line that makes you feel old, I don't know what is.)

I don't know if I would have gone unless my friend D hadn't wanted to go. So, being the good sport that I am, I agreed to attend. And, since Mr. KK went to the same high school, he was coming too. (And, he would probably know more people than I did.)

Some people looked EXACTLY the same. It was as if their yearbook pictures popped off the page and morphed into actual humans. Others, I didn't even recognize (mostly the guys, some of whom had puffed up from drinking and possibly eating other classmates).

I didn't really keep in touch with people from high school, so after the "what have you been up to for 20 years?" question, the conversation lacked a little bit. 

Social media has definitely changed reunions. Some of my favorite quotes of the night:

• "Hey! Your facebook posts crack me up!"
• "I love seeing all the places you travel for work. You always seem so busy!"

and my favorite:

• "You sure like to drink." (As a matter of fact, I do. And I will need a whole shit load of drinks to get through this night.)

And what was the million dollar question of the night? Well, it pertained to pushing offspring from your vagina. Some of those conversations went like this:

"Hey! Do you have kids?"

KK: "No, no we don't. Oh. Well that why you look so great!"

"How many kids do you guys have?"

KK:  "We have one four-legged furry kid. He's home-schooled."

"So, did you have any kids?"

KK:  "No. I don't have a uterus." (I may not have said these exact words...)

The other highlight of the night was opening the time capsule. On graduation night, everyone filled out a questionnaire, sealed it in an envelope, only to be opened in 20 years. You could also put letters, pictures and other paraphernalia in there. My friend D got a million (no joke) letters addressed to her. It was like she was the mayor of high school. 

After reading my questionnaire, it seems besides my new and improved hair since high school, not much has changed.

First, my handwriting is exactly the same.

QUESTION: What will you be doing in 10 years?

ANSWER: married and working in Advertising. Check!

QUESTION: Who are your best friends?

ANSWER: Well, of the 10 people I listed, 8 of them I hadn't spoken to since college. 6 of them were there last night. All 10 of them I probably won't talk to for another 20 years.

Question: What's your dream car?

ANSWER: White Cabriolet Convertible. I never got that car, but I DO drive a Volkswagen. Half check!

QUESTION: Do you plan on staying in your home town?

ANSWER: No.

Technically, I didn't STAY in my hometown. I moved to Boston. And the question doesn't ask if I currently lived in my hometown. So...check!

QUESTION: Favorite food?

ANSWER: Cheese. Check! Check!

QUESTION: Favorite TV shows?

ANSWER: My Two Dads and Blossom. Hey, it was the nineties!

My contribution to the time capsule was a mix tape. (Again, it was the nineties!) It was a tape that my best friend and I had put together and listened to that whole following summer before heading off the college (where we would realize we were different people and then never speak to each other again. Anyone noticing a trend here?)

A snippet of songs from that tape:

Brown Eyed Girl

Things That Make You Go Hmmm

Paradise By The Dashboard Light

Ain't Gonna Hurt Nobody

The Joker

Jack And Diane

Baby Got Back

Mama Said Knock You Out

D:  "Ohmygod! You put in a tape! Can we listen to it on the way home?"

KK:  "Um, no. My car doesn't have a cassette player. We may never hear this tape again."

Oddly, though, if I had put in a VHS tape, that we could have watched. (Don't ask.)

I found one letter in the time capsule addressed to me, and it was from and ex-boyfriend. Mr. KK got a lot of miles out of that one, continually referencing his "nemesis". It was bordering on trying to be profound and referencing song lyrics and totally all high-schooly.

All in all, an okay night. I'm good for another 20 years.

And I was right: Mr. KK talked to more people than I did.

I'm a compulsive locker upper

Here's something you might not know about me: I'm neurotic about locking doors.

Double- and triple-checking the house doors.

Beeping the car alarm six times. Walking ten feet and asking, "Did I beep it?"

I like to think it's an endearing habit that Mr. KK finds totes adorable*.

Last night, in the middle of the night, our house alarm went off.

Holy crap.

Mr. KK ran to the keypad and said, "The motion detector in the basement made it go off."

Holy fucking shit.

And then Mr. KK shut the alarm and cancelled the call to the emergency service, told me he'd be right back, and LOCKED ME IN THE BEDROOM.

Are you fucking kidding me???

I heard him rustling around the kitchen (getting a knife?) and then open the basement door and slowly make his way down the creaky stairs. What if a murderer was waiting for him? What if they put a chloroform cloth over his nose and mouth? What if...

And then I fell asleep.

I fell asleep when there was a possible axe murderer in my house, and my husband might be walking into his trap.

It seems I'm so incredibly exhausted from work, that my neurosis are cured.

For the time being, anyway.

*This may be my misperception.

i'm a salty & sweet whore

Perhaps not a full-blown whore. 

Maybe more like a two-bit harlot.

Anywho, I'm a sucker for anything salty and sweet.

M&M's pretzel.

Special K sweet & salty popcorn chips.

Mini ice cream sandwiches made with Ritz crackers, vanilla ice cream and caramel. (OMG you have to go home and make these. They're the best white trash dessert you'll ever have. Recipe below!)

My new obsession:

Starbucks Salted Caramel Cake Pops.

Admittedly, I've only had them once. And only after I heard them described as "crack on a stick".

And if eating crack on a stick is wrong, I don't want to be right.


White Trash Ice Cream Sandwiches

ritz crackers
vanilla ice cream
caramel sauce

Using a tablespoon, spoon out vanilla ice cream and place onto a ritz cracker, being careful not to press to hard and break the cracker.

Using a teaspoon, put a bit of caramel on a second ritz cracker.

Put the caramel to the ice cream and make a sandwich.

They're messy, but amazing.

nablopomo FAIL

Apparently "blog every day the month of November" apparently means "write a blog post EVERY SINGLE DAY for the ENTIRE month of November".

I already messed this up.

How about this: you might not get posts every day, but you'll get them as often as I can.

Deal?

Work is crazy and I have a wedding to attend this afternoon.

So I'll leave you with one of my favorite signs in Boston:

Advertising at its best!

Happy Friday!

election day

For the first time ever, I voted in a Presidential election.

(insert your shocked faces here)

I know. I know.

It's my civic duty.

I can have a voice.

I can help make a change.

I'm just not that into politics.

But in the back on my mind I felt that if I voted, I would maybe, just maybe have something to do with the removal of political commercials on TV, signs on lawns*, and posts in my Facebook feed.

Girls, looks like you'll have control of your vaginas for another four years!

*in the aftermath of hurricane sandy, people somehow lost fences, trees, lawn furniture...but somehow those god-awful signs were never ripped out of their lawns!

perfect fall snack

Mr. KK and I enjoy spending time at this little craft beer and bistro place down the street from our house. Not only do they have an impressive beer list, they actually have really good food.

One of our favorite small plates are their fried cumin-spiced fried chick peas. They so crunchy and delicious that they're completely addictive.

In true KK fashion, I've recreated this small plate at home; baking the chick peas instead of frying them, making them a healthy snack.

Ingredients:
2 cans chick peas, drained and rinsed
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp cumin
1 Tbsp paprika
salt

Preheat oven 400 degrees.

Place rinsed chick peas on paper towels on a baking sheet to dry them. Once dry, throw away paper towels.

In a bowl combine olive oil, cumin and paprika. Pour in chick peas and stir until coated. Toss with salt.

Pour chick peas onto the baking sheet in a single layer.

Bake 35-40 minutes until dried and crispy.

(keep and eye on them, sometimes they cook quickly. and you may hear them popping!)

Enjoy!

better late than never: nablopomo 2012

I'd like to thank Hurricane Sandy for me being late to the party for NaBloPoMo this year.

My thoughts and prayers go out to all those affected by Sandy. I can't believe the devastation and destruction I'm seeing on TV.

Our brush with Sandy resulted in losing power for a few days. They were the longest three days of my life. I'm not a roughing-it kind of girl, so put me in a house with no power or access to anything electronic and you'll have one bat-shit crazy girl by the end of the day.

Oh, and my office was closed as well with the servers and email down.

My days went something like this:

Ask divine beings for our power back.
Keep wood on the fire for warmth and light.
Eat.
Eat some more.
Cart every electronic we own to my parents' house to charge.
Boil water to wash dishes.
Drink and eat again.
Go to sleep at 8:30.
Wake up at 5:30am and start all over again.

Some super exciting days.

So without power, not only did I forget to start NaBlo, I didn't even realize that it was November.

But here I am. And you got me starting today until November 30!

Teaser! Things to look forward to in this month's posts: a wedding, a senior bus trip to the outlets, Thanksgiving and my high school reunion.

I'm scrubbing in!

Last week my 92-year old Grandfather has a small procedure done. 

The doctor, who thought it prudent to not let the 92-year old that the mass on his kidney was cancerous, told my Grandfather that he was having a polyp removed. 

This seemed to satisfy my Grandfather and so into surgery he went, and out he came...with a catheter.

Now, speaking from experience, a catheter isn't the most pleasant thing on the planet (nor in a bar, or at a restaurant), but it doesn't hurt. It can be slightly uncomfortable at times, but mostly it's just cumbersome. (And uncool.)

But when you're an old man who pretty much sits in front of the TV all day, it shouldn't really impede on your lifestyle.

Unless, of course, you're my Grandfather.

My mother, who was in charge of taking care of her father (my grandfather), was told by the doctor that the catheter could come out Friday or Saturday. But when she called, she was told the doctor was "unreachable". For days. (Also uncool.)

On Sunday, I went over to visit my Grandfather to see how he was doing. I brought him a pumpkin pie because, really, who doesn't love pumpkin pie? He's in the back room so I yell out, "How are you doing today?"

To which he responds, "LOUSY!"

Oh boy.

Turns out, his catheter started leaking. It wasn't draining in the bag, it was draining onto the couch where he was sitting. Or on the floor when he stood up. Apparently they had already called my mother, who was on her way.

And here's how the rest of the afternoon went:

KK calls the doctor's office to talk to the Emergency Answering Service and is told the doctor on call would be paged and would call us back.

This conversation took place:
MOM: "This is a mess. What are we going to do?"
KK: "We'll fix it. We may have to bring him to the ER to have them fix it."
MOM: "Great. Now we'll be spending the whole day in ER."
GRANDFATHER: (shouting from the other room, oblivious to our conversation) "Should we can an ambulance?"
MOM and KK (in unison): "NO!"

KK calls the doctor's office AGAIN because it has been 30 minutes and no call from the Doctor.

Doctor calls back finally. My mother must not like what he's saying to her because she makes a face and tells him to hold on.

MOM: "He said we should try to take the catheter out ourselves. I don't think I can do this, KK. YOU'RE going to have to do it."

KK: "No way. You can totally do it. It's not hard at all, I did mine when I had one. It's easy, the doctor will walk you through it."

(NOTE: It's not that I couldn't do it, but I didn't think the place for me was all up in my grandfather's kibbles and bits, you know? Plus, my mom had been caring for him for days and had already gone through that embarrassment. Why put both of us through it?)

And so, with me on the phone with the Doctor calling out directions, my Grandmother fetching a pair of scissors, and my mother kneeling down in front of my Grandfather's private parts asking "Is it this tube?? Is it this tube??", we removed my 92-year old grandfather's catheter.

"It's out!" I told the doctor. "I feel like I should hand out cigars."

the gym chronicles

I know I haven't written in a while about my escapades at the gym with naked women folk, but that doesn't mean I haven't been going and getting an eyeful.

While I'm still getting dressed with the regulars, there are some new, er, faces each morning.

And each one is just as crazy as the next lady.

Some of my favorites:

• The twenty-something girl who does a full-on 'sweat like it's your job' workout, then goes and gets dressed for work without showering. She uses more baby powder to soak up the sweat in rather interesting places that she should take stock out in Johnson & Johnson.

• The older woman (also of the 'workout without showering' mentality) puts on suntan-colored pantyhose (complete with the reinforced toe!), sensible pumps, and a two-fer suit/blouse number. Priceless.

• The lady who will come in from her workout, strip down to her birthday suit (a rather wrinkled birthday suit, if you catch my drift), and have a conversation with you. After showering, however, modesty takes over and she takes her clothes into one of the dressings rooms to get dressed.

My favorite three runners are still there every morning. Newsflash there: one of them switched from Granny panties to a thong!

Never a dull moment in the locker room!

kk's fall favorites - 2012 edition

I feel like I went to bed and it was warm and summery, and I work up and it was cool and crisp.

Fall is here!

And here are some of my favorite Fall finds.

 The smooth, creamy caramel of these booties make them hard to resist.

Vince Camuto, exclusively at Nordstrom

This Fall it's all about COLOR. I'm loving these deep violet jeans from Loft

 Essie's fall collection of polishes are gorge. Loving this burgundy shade.

 Accessorize like it's your job. Try a snakeskin cuff that's part sexy part biker girl.

 Shopping hands-free is the only way to. This pewter messenger bag from Ralph Lauren lets you shop with ease.

 Every year Target comes out with one piece that's totally fabulous. For me, it's this orange blazer. Perfect with jeans and boots.

 I wish I had a million of these pullovers. It's made by Danskin and perfect for everything from running to riding a plane. The epitome of comfort.

These t-shirts from Loft are so cute. I love this one with the little dog on it. They're perfect to layer under cardigans, or the little orange blazer above.

Happy season of cider, oven-cooked meals and great hair!

get.these.now.

the perfect combination of sweet and salty.

and on the list of "okay to eat" foods.

feel free to bestow sympathy on me. i'm not shy.

First of all, each one of you that told me that, "it's different now!" to get me to come back to my current company, is TOTALLY a liar.


I'm not mad at you, and I don't want to leave my job, but I felt the need to point out that each of you is going to hell for telling a BIG. FAT. LIE.


So continuing the "hey, you lied to me!" theme, I wanted to share my calendar from Monday. (While you may have no idea what the meetings mean, you can count, so you'll be astute enough to see that when you book me in not one, not two but THREE meetings at the same time, I will only be at one of them. I'm no sheep, and they haven't figured out how to clone me yet.


If you ever dreaded a Monday, this is a good reason:

a tale of two Target trips.

I went to Target twice last week. And each time was not without a story.


Tuesday:


I went to Target to browse. Do you know how dangerous that is for me? I spent an hour walking around, picking things up, taking illegal pictures of shelf sets and signage for work. I ended up spending only $3.17. I was so proud I put it on Facebook. I mean, who spends only three dollars in Target???


(THIS GIRL!)


Friday:


A mysterious stomach bug ripped through the office on Friday. I was the fourth victim to leave work early, around 4pm. But of course, there was a ton of traffic, and it was taking forever to get home. I went from thinking: "Please let me make it home in time!" to "I'm not going to make it home in time!" in a matter of minutes.


So I did what any self-respecting female would do: got off the highway and drove to the nearest Target.


And threw up 7 times.


One of my finer moments, for sure.


(And, for the record, I spent ZERO dollars in that trip. Another first.)

please file under: are you effing kidding me?

Two Fridays ago, I took my team out for lunch. It was a glorious, sunny afternoon, so why not spend $200 on drinks and lunch, seated on the patio of a hip new restaurant.


I had two of my team members in my car with me as I navigated the large, public lot. I pulled into a space behind the church and put the car in park.


As we were gathering our things, I noticed the car in the spot in front of me was slowly rolling backwards.


I leaned on the horn. BEEEEP!


And the car kept on coming.


"Oh my god, he's still coming!" one girl yells.


BEEEEEEEEEEEEP!


"Why isn't he stopping?" the other says.


BEEEEEEEEEEEEP!


"I think he's going to hit us!" I say.


BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!


And then he rolled right into my car.


After he hit my car, he turned around and glared at me through his back window.


Annnnnd here we go.


The man that gets out of the car is in his late fifties or so, and he's shaking his head in disgust.


I open my car door and step one foot out and stand up. Somehow thinking that my door will protect me from any harm.


He gives me a, 'Why the hell did you just drive into me? Hmph. Women drivers!' kind of look.


"Um, YOU hit ME."


"I did?"


"Yes. That's why your car is half in my parking space."


"I didn't even realize I was rolling."


"Yes. That's why I was beeping at you like a lunatic."


And then inspects my car. He barely tapped me, as he must have been in neutral, but we both go through the motions.


"Did I do that?" he asks, pointing to an imperfection on the front of my car that I would love to use this 'mishap' as an excuse to get fixed on someone else's dollar.


"No, you didn't." (See God? I'm a good person.)


"Well, I'm awfully sorry." And he starts to walk away.


"Do you think you can move your car back up into your own parking space?"


He obliges and walks into the church.


I take a picture of his license plate, just in case.


"It's a good thing you didn't say anything bad to him," says one girl. "He was wearing a shirt that said something about killing people."


Hey, no one ever said I was stupid.

friday randomness

Happy Friday, y'all! 

The rain in the northeast has finally ceased for 7 minutes and the sun.is.out. That is reason enough for celebration.

Because it's so nice out my attention span is not up to par, so instead of a poetically written long post, I have some snippets that should get you through your Friday.

We went to a beer fest in Boston last weekend. For 3.5 hours we drank our way around the World Trade Center. 100 craft brewers, 560 beers (or something like that, I lost count after my 7th double IPA). After the beer fest - because we're old - we knew that we had to keep drinking or we'd go to sleep. So off to two more beer bars it was! By the end of the night, I looked like this:

Did I mention it was raining cats, dogs, elephants and any other animal you can think of? NOTE: this girl didn't need more beer.

To pay for my beer addiction affinity, I have come up with the next BIG IDEA for a tv show. It's a take-off on Hoarders, except it's about CAR Hoarders. I found the first person to feature on this new series at my local grocery store:

Qualifications include - but are not limited to:

• a back seat that looks like a Goodwill donation bin
• a year's worth of fast food bags, containers and food particles
• an unhealthy number of stuffed animals
• a collection of paper that when added up could rival the number of trees in the Redwood Forest

I confirmed yesterday what I've known for years: I HATE linen. Sure, it's a cool option in the summer heat, but so are skirts.

Yesterday I went shopping during the afternoon (I got to leave the office in the middle of the day! I know, right???) And against my better judgement, I tried on a pair of white linen pants. 

You know what you can't see in this online photo of the pants? That when you put them on, you can see your pubic hair through them. 

(So, no, I didn't buy them)

Now go and drink too much beer and wear see-through pants.