headaches and pot pies

It's Day 5 and I'm still alive, folks! (though I am suffering from a slight hangover) ((see previous post))

25 more days of daily blogging!

So Bren has asked for my chicken pot pie recipe. And you know me, I LOVE sharing recipes.

NOTE: this is not a pic of my actual pot pies (see previous post). though they looked very similar.

But I don't have a recipe, because I made it up as I went along.

Here's what I did:

kk's chicken pot pies

Ingredients:

1 rotisserie chicken

2 onions, diced

4 carrots, peeled and cut into bite-sized pieces and blanched for 2 minutes

1 bag frozen peas

1 1/2 sticks of butter

2 refrigerated pie crusts

3/4 cup flour

2 cups of chicken broth, warmed

1 cup of milk

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Roll out pie crusts on a floured surface. Invert the mini crock and trace a circle in the dough about an inch wider than the mouth of the bowl. Make 4 dough circles and set aside.

Remove the 2 breasts from the chicken and cut the meat up into bite-sized pieces.

Melt the butter in a dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion, and cook until onion is soft, about 10 minutes.

Add flour, and whisk together until a thick paste forms. Stir for 2-3 minutes so it doesn't stick.

Add 1 cup of broth and whisk. Add the milk. If it's really thick, add a second cup of broth. The sauce should be thick, but pourable.

Keep stirring until all of the liquid is mixed in and sauce heats.

Add chicken, carrots and peas. Stir until heated through.

Add salt and pepper to taste.

Ladle the mixture into 4 individual crock dishes.

Top each crock with a dough circle, and crimp the ends to secure it to the bowl. Make slits in the dough.

Bake crocks on a baking sheet for 20 minutes, or until the top is golden brown.

Enjoy!

CAUTION: as delicious as these little suckers look, please refrain from digging in for at least 5-10 minutes, as the inside is insanely hot and you will burn your tongue.

TIP: if you crack the top of the crust with your spoon, some of the heat will escape.

Enjoy with a nice bottle of red and cool salad.

PLEASE take this as my Day 4 NaBlo

Tonight we hosted a dinner party.

i MEANT to take pictures of my beautiful individual chicken pot pies.

but now i'm DRUNK. so you have to pretend that i made it in time to post for my blog.

my pot pies rocked your ass. yeah, they were hot, but when they cooled. they were AWESOME.

guess what? mr. kk is snoring his brains out in the bedroom.

OMG. this totally counts as friday's post.'

OMG. i'k drujnk. hahah. drynks.

see yoou saturday, bitchyenss!

on the cusp of millionaire-dom

I'm lucky to live in a lottery-lovin' state. And being the gambling woman that I am, I love to play the lottery.

And, sad as it is to admit, deep down, I actually think that I'm going to win one day.

Last night I stopped for gas on my way home. Remembering that Powerball was $254 million smackaroos, and seeing that I had two singles in my wallet (a miracle in itself), I ran inside the convenience store.

Behind the counter was a crotchety old man, who looked like he hadn't smiled in 23 years.

KK: "Two Powerball quick picks, please." I lay my dollars on the counter.

GRUMPY OLD MAN: "Hmph. Before I throw this lottery machine right out the window!"

KK: "Oh no! Is the machine acting up?" This was a logical question, since I assumed more people than normal were buying lottery tickets, hoping to strike it rich.

G.O.M.: "No, it's not. But I'm busy, I don't have time for the lottery!" I believe he actually snarled at me.

KK: "Oh, well, um..."

G.O.M.: "I'm very busy here, I have lots of things to do. 'The lottery's not one of them. Ma'am." Okay, now he crossed the line. I don't look a day over 'Young Lady'.

I'm surprised he didn't finish me off with a 'Now git on outta here!', though he might as well have.

Now, I was in a pretty good mood going into that store. I was about to buy my ticket to freedom. But now, I encounter Cranky Pants. I listen to people ALL DAY who hate their jobs. I certainly don't want to deal with them after hours, too. I mean, running the lottery machine! Talk about a grueling task. Guess what, dude? I did that job in high school. And I lived to tell about it!

I woke up this morning to find out that the winning lottery ticket was SOLD IN CONNECTICUT. The winning ticket was sold. in. my. state.

Holy Hannah! I actually may be a millionaire!

Sadly, I'm not. So you will see me back here tomorrow, same desk, same wit.

Over and out!

Recap: BlogHer Writer's Conference

In a word: inspirational.

There I was hanging out with 198 fabulous women - and 2 brave men! - listening to some of the brightest people in the publishing industry.

I am fortunate enough to live just a train ride away. I woke up at 4:30am that Friday morning, showered and dressed, and drove in the dark to the train station. (BONUS: I was on one of the new trains! It didn't smell like homeless people! The seats were clean! I could hear them announce each stop clearly!)

The day was filled with fabulous speakers, break-out sessions, and even a small group round table in a focus area of your choice, with a real live literary editor! We got to pitch our ideas, talk about our blogs and novels, and get useful feedback.

My key takeaway: everyone has a story. From breast cancer to young war widows, having babies with illness to overcoming internal fears, each and every person there had a novel inside of them.

And everyone was at a different stage of their writing journey - one woman had written a novel a few years ago, then put it on a shelf (!) and was now ready to do something about it. One was just starting her query letter, one was just starting her blog.

For me, I was absolutely enamored and inspired by these fellow bloggers. Being there put things in perspective for me. It made me want to WRITE. Which is why I decided to do NaBloPoMo. (And, naturally, why I said I'd do NaNoWriMo and fail on the first day. I didn't change THAT much.)

I also learned that I should market my blog a little bit. Which is ironic, since I am technically a marketer. This means being on Twitter, mentioning new blog posts on Facebook and just being out there. This will hopefully prove to be a better method than the one I'm currently using, which is: write a post and pray someone stumbles across it and reads it, and - gasp! - leaves a comment!

I created a twitter handle. It's naked right now, but if you'd like to follow my musings, find me at: @kkworksforshoes

And perhaps the best part: I made 200 new bloggy friends!

Halloween is cancelled, Charlie Brown

Before we moved, Halloween used to be like this - all martinis and monsters.

We lived in an awesome neighborhood, where parents would bus their kids in. Eight kids would pile out of a battered of Dodge Caravan, run up to the house, rob us of candy, and jump back in their ride to the next house. What happened to kids walking door to door? Are we THAT lazy???

In the new house, we're set far off a busy road, down a loooooong driveway (that I'm even scared to drive down, let along walk down dressed like a sexy kitten). And while the freak October storm post-poned Halloween until some random day in November (hey! at least candy will be 50% off!), our town kept the tradition alive.

Everywhere but our house.

It was our first year without trick-or-treaters. Gone was the doorbell ringing, Vito throwing his little body against the gate at the top of the stairs, the incessant barking, him panting his fish breath all over the place.

Yep, Vito could not have been happier. That is, until it was time for his costume:

Just because we don't have trick-or-treaters, doesn't mean we don't dress up!

And then he hated Halloween all over again.

PS: this is Day 1 of NaBloPoMo, bee-otches! bring it!

Halloween Eve

Raise your hand if you've ever heard of 'doorbell night'.

Raise your hand if you've ever quietly tip-toed up to someone's front porch, rang their door bell, then run like hell behind the nearest bush/tree/car.

Raise your hand if you're 2 rather strong beers in while writing this blog post.

Still only me?

Well, then.

I remember being in grade school, sixth grade, to be exact. I was at my BFF's house on Doorbell Night. A few months earlier, at the end of summer, a new family had moved in next door to her. They had a daughter who was a year older than we were, in her first year of junior high. So when she came outside on Halloween Eve to find us jumping in a pile of freshly raked leaves (could we have been more lame????) and asked us if we wanted to ring doorbells with her, we were like "Heck, yeah!" (again, totally lame)

Our first target? My BFF's neighbor, who were a couple in their eighties. Wrong target? Yes. Did we care? No. We had a SEVENTH GRADER hanging out with us. What we didn't know was that in 4 years this seventh grader would be expelled for doing drugs during study hall. While we earned all A's in AP math.

The future Courtney Love dared us, and who could say no to a dare? So my BFF and I ran up to their lit doorstep, rang the doorbell, then high-tailed it behind the nearest tree.

And then we heard it.

A frail, little voice, calling out in the darkness, "Hello? Who's there? Hello?"

When she was safely inside, we regrouped behind the big oak.

"Do it again," Courtney Love urged us. "One more time."

Like Kurt Cobain, we couldn't say no to Courtney.

Once again we snuck up to the doorstep, pressed on the bell BZZZZT! BZZZT! BZZZZT!

And there she was, in her pink bathrobe, calling out the screen door. "Whoever this is, can you please stop ringing our bell? It's late. I'm going to turn off the lights now. This isn't funny."

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I imagined my grandparents getting pranked on Doorbell Night, and I wanted to strangle their pranksters. I looked over at the future drug addict's wild mane of red hair, and I wanted to strangle her too. Why couldn't she leave us alone? Jumping in our pile of leaves.

I whispered to my BFF "LET'S GO", knowing her mother would have hot chocolate and mini marshmallows waiting for us.

We ran inside, unzipped our Strawberry Shortcake sleeping bags, and played with My Little Pony, while Courtney Love snuck cigarettes on the back porch.

like an iVirgin

This is my very first blog post from my new iMac!

Mr. KK caved! And it only took 16 months! (My negotiating skills are getting better!)

And we got it just in time - NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo are just around the corner!

That's right, I'm signing up again to blog every day for a month. Two years ago, I did it, and I have to say, it felt pretty good.

A few years ago I also tried NaNo, and failed miserably. But, being fresh off of the BlogHer Writer's Conference (total rundown to come soon...perfect NaBlo post!), I'm inspired to get this novel out of me.

Let the iWriting begin!