On My Honor, I Will Try

After taking a lengthy beat in my tempo, I'm back in front of the computer again. It's been years. I feel like John Waters' mustache: bare and unclear as to what I'm doing here.

It's crazy how the keys clacking away under my fingers are like a familiar, messy tsunami of creativity and doubt. Although it has yet to be seen if the relevance of this blog has run it course, I'll give it a go anyway.
Relevancy Schmelevancy.

A lot of my train cars have disconnected and ran off the track over the last few years. I've gone through a divorce and now understand why we call it going through a divorce. Once you're out the other side, it's easy to turn around and look back to see it was much like a tunnel. Or a war. Depending on how it goes.

My daughter is now a 9-year-old energy hoarding little darling. She's a 3rd grader head-over-heels for Amelia Earhart, Dumbo, Taylor Swift and black sweat pants. She chews on her hair so much it looks like I cut a big random chunk of it right in the front. I didn't. She plays Roblox on her phone, makes Tik Tok videos, posts to her own Instagram account, and complains about hating Base Camp in the mornings. We stay up having long talks about the future. We sing Home On The Range together with our best, loud cowgirl voices when there is no one around. Even though she's this mind blowing version of a tiny teenager, we're still very much in love. She turned me into an instant feminist.

I'm back in my house having taken a year and a half leave of absence following my divorce. Now that it's just me driving this crazy train, I'm sure I'll have plenty of projects to somehow turn this house into my own.
I've come to the conclusion that I just need to do something. It doesn't have to be at a level ten. As long as I'm moving, even at a level one, I'm better than I am staying at a zero. Being at a zero is like a personal stale mate.
so.
This is my one.

Twin Peaks: See You In 25 Years

About a week and a half ago, David Lynch posted a very exciting and cryptic tweet directly in a style that only David Lynch would do. 

Those of us who have been riding along in the Twin Peaks band wagon the last few decades started getting a little hysterical.

And then...

A few days later, I see this little 60 second YouTube video pop up on the Internet:

Oh. My. God. 

You guys.

Showtime is bringing back the television show Twin Peaks for a limited 9 episode 3rd season.

I am so excited I could shit a mouse. 

My skin has goosebumps so hard I look like bubble wrap. 

Well, grab yourself a cup of damn good coffee, a piece of huckleberry pie, and maybe even a double stacked jelly donut because we're approaching the quarter century mark. 

When I was 20 years old, I rented the first season of Twin Peaks on VHS from our local video store. At the time I didn't know a lot about director David Lynch except that he was a genius and that he  and Mark Frost had managed to create a show which totally disorientated me and consumed me to the core. It was creepy, it was entrancing, it was curious and hypnotizing. 

Twin Peaks was totally uncommercial which is what made me fall so completely in love with it.  The characters were authentic, fresh and so very peculiar. The Man From Another Place, The One Armed Man, Killer BOB, Special Agent Dale Cooper... they all left me in a state of spellbound captivation and I wasn't the only one who felt that way. Twin Peaks was nominated for 18 Emmy awards, 4 Golden Globes, and 2 Grammys. In 2004 and 2007, it was ranked numbers 20 and 24 on TV Guide's Top Cult Shows Ever and in 2002, it was labeled as one of the "Top 50 Television Programs of All Time." In 2007, Time Magazine positioned the show on their list of the "100 Best TV Shows of All-Time."

My husband and I are currently in the middle of revisiting this series on Netflix. 

If you're planning on doing the same for the very first time, prepare yourself for a wild ride.  These episodes are fabulous and groundbreaking entertainment which rocked the world back in their glory days. Truly a gift for all of us cult loving weirdos. 

I. 

Cannot.
Wait.

20 Sure Swift Ways To Piss Off Your Local Friendly Bartender

It's a tricky concept to work with people instead of product.

There are a lot of personalities out there and unfortunately not all of them are smart nor socially in tune. As a bartender, I see occasional looks from 9-to-5ers who think this sort of people pleasing job is just so easy. I deal with people who see anyone in the service industry as sad drink slingers here to accommodate their buzz. Lets make no mistake here: deep down, I live for this. There is nothing I would personally like to do for a living more than have a social life which also happens to pay my bills. I feel very blessed. I love the freedom my ass feels whenever I stand up and it hasn't physically gown into the square shape of a cubicle chair. However, I have also found my niche far far away from novice shot takers and now prefer to be the barrel monkey at a more seasoned cabana where I take care of practiced pros who rarely make amateur faux paus.

But with that being said, there are always those few...

My husband and I went out for beers last night to visit a friend of ours who works security at a tavern downtown. As fun as it is to get out of the house and stretch our livers a bit, it absolutely reminded me how happy I am that I don't mix drinks for a gaggle of drunken college kids anymore. Sure, the money is fantastic, but the toll it takes on the temper and the irritation gauge is enough to hang up my shaker for a while.
While my husband sat and watched all the handlebar mustaches come and go, my eyes were fixed on the interaction between the 3 guys lobbing bottles and the unforgiving line which wrapped around the entire bar. I could see, time and time again, the universal pet peeves which were unfolding right in front of my eyes.

It's a world wide formula which bartenders around the globe have had to deal with since the dawn of time:

Unaware and overly saturated patrons
+ Busy bartender in overly populated tavern
 = The perfect cocktail of broken bar etiquette.

Now, I feel it's my civic duty to post these bete noirs to help clear the air and put an end to any confusion as to what is acceptable pub behavior and what isn't. So in no particular order, let's commence the lesson.

1. Being indecisive (also known as "just make me whatever you want!" or "mix me something fruity, your choice!") I have a bar which the fire department would shut down for being hundreds of people over capacity, and you've been waiting in line for 20 minutes for your turn to secure a delicious cold beverage but you seriously don't know what you want to drink? Get out of here.

2. Trying to throw stuff into the trash can and missing. I don't know if you think you're Michael Jordan, but I have news for you, you aren't Michael Jordan. You're especially not Michael Jordan after 5 Washington Apples and 3 IPA's. As you try and then fail over and over in an attempt to convince yourself otherwise, I am collecting a small army of crinkled up cocktail napkins which I will have to clean up at 2AM after an already exhausting shift. Please just get up and place your trash in the can like everyone else. Thanks.

3. On the heals of this; Frisbee tossing coasters. When you launch a coaster across the bar room, and you come inches away from hitting me in the forehead, sometimes even succeeding, you aren't being funny or flirty or anything other than an asshole asking for weak drinks and an irritated bartender. 

4. Tipping in me in a pile of dimes, pennies, and nickles? Are you a homeless person who really doesn't even have the money to be at a bar in the first place? Take that shit to Coin Star. Come on. 

5. Making a mess (ie; ripping off beer labels, tearing up coasters) I understand that you're nervous or sexually frustrated or bored or whatever but my job is not to be your personal janitor. Knock it off. Are you building a nest?

6. Opening and closing a tab. This is also along the lines of being indecisive. If there is any chance at all that you may stay and have another round, leave your tab open. It is a pain in the ass to wait for my dial-up credit card machine to close you out 3 separate times at $4.50 a pop.  And while we're on the subject, quit ordering your drinks one at a time. Please place your entire order for everyone at your table all at the same time. If you think that by the time I'm back with a tray full of shots you'll be ready for another beer, just order it prior. Don't make me come back 4 times for 4 drinks. I hate you.

7. Asking for free or stronger drinks. I know more about liquor portions than you do and my job is more important than you getting your buzz on. "Don't be shy" or "more whiskey than coke" or "light on the ice" isn't a sneaky way of getting more alcohol in your cocktail. All that does is make you sound cheap and get you weaker drinks. If you want a double, just ask for a double. Chances are, if you're a regular that I'm fond of, I would have probably hooked it up anyway had you not said anything but now, not so much.

8. Complaining about your tab being higher than you think it is. Listen to me, you're drunk and I'm sober. While admittedly there have been occasional flub ups, generally speaking I can recall what you've had to drink much better than you can. I remember that the baker's dozen Fireball shots which you bought for the table of hot chicks behind you did in fact really happen. I'm not trying to pad your tab, ok? Just pay your damn bill and quit arguing with me. Aint nobody got time for that.

9. Can you turn this song up? No I can't. Your decibel sensitivity is broken. I already turned it up for Phil Collin's drum solo in In The Air Tonight per your request. I turned it up again when your girlfriend played Brittney Spears' Work Bitch on the jukebox. So when I see a line of barstools filled with customers who are having to scream over each other just so that you can play a cranked up air guitar to Freebird, I'm drawing the line. (And just because you've discovered the button in the back of the box where you can manually do it yourself doesn't mean you have that privilege. I will cut you.)

10. Interrupting when I'm talking to another customer. Whatever you're going to say isn't as important as you think it is. Don't be a dick.

11. Using hand signals or yelling at me to get a drink, especially when I'm crazy busy, isn't going to get you a drink any faster. I'm taking inventory of everyone standing at the bar whether you think I see you or not, I know you're there. I have a certain order in my head of which drink orders to take while I go to the other end of the bar to get beer for a different group across the room. When you yell at me, snap at me, clap at me or wave your arms around like a kindergartner who knows the answer in class, you're not only messing up my order of operation, but you're making yourself look like an impatient and arrogant patron. Also, holding your empty beer bottle in the air until I come over with a new one is the grown up equivalent of a toddler holding their breath. Calm yourself. Seriously. I'll get to you, I promise. I'm moving as fast as you assholes will let me go.

12. Don't try to ask me an alcohol related question just to one-up me on your knowledge of alcohol. While a good bartender welcomes the knowledge of learning a new mixed drink or shooter, you also don't need to try and make me look stupid in order to make yourself look more alcoholically educated. Doing so is just going to make you look like a pretentious douche. No, I've never heard of a drink called Underwater Orangutan Piss and that doesn't make you better than me. So shut it.

13. Overstaying your welcome. The bar is closing. You and the two shit-tanked guys at the end of the bar talking about your high school prom memories are the only 3 people left. If you're thinking to yourself "Oh, she won't mind if we hang out for one more beer because we're buddies!" You're wrong. Being nice to you is our job and we'll tell you it's cool but really we want to get the hell out of there and go home just as much (if not more) than everyone else who is approaching the end of their work day. If I'm turning lights on, pulling the bar mats and sticking the garnish tray into the walk-in cooler, it's time to go home. Don't make me stand there continuously checking my watch, yawning and flipping off the TVs while you go on and on. Just go home already and let e do the same. I'm begging you.

14. Drinking and driving. It's 2014. We all know how much of a bad idea it is to drink and drive. Don't get wasted and then wave your keys in front of me so that I know you're going to drive home. I am way too busy to tackle you to the ground and talk you out of a bad decision. I'm not your mom. Drink responsibly.

15. Walking out with a drink. You know as well as I do it's against the law to take a glass filled with alcohol beyond the doors of a tavern. Yes, you're welcome to go sit on the patio and smoke your cigarettes or whatever, but if you cross that rope, you're not only jeopardizing my position but also the liquor license of the actual business itself. This isn't a liquor store. We don't have to-go cups for your Sex On The Beach. Sorry.

16. Trying to have a long conversation when I'm busy. I would love to watch your home video of the hilarious thing your cat did this afternoon or have a long chit chat about your brother who just got put in jail for the 7th time, but right now it's the middle of happy hour and I have to make 16 blended margaritas and muddle 8 different flavors of mojito. Please stop talking.

17. Taking fruit out of the garnish tray. Your hands are dirty. Even if they aren't, I don't know that. My hands, on the other hand, have been clean and sanitized over 10 times in the last 5 minutes from washing a million bar glasses so because I'm the one with the bartending job, I'll be the only one to stick my fingers in the olives. I don't care if garlic stuffed ones are your favorite. Hands off buddy. That's gross.

18. Complaining about being carded. It's my job to card you. Be happy you still look young and not a million years old. Take it as a compliment and shut the hell up about being carded. I'm 33 years old and look like I'm about 16 so every goddamn day I hear "are you even old enough to be serving me" at least once and even though it's like nails on a chalkboard, I don't bitch about it. Get over it and just have it already out and waiting to hand to me already. You should know the routine already at this point and by arguing with me it just makes you seem younger.

19. Throwing up!!! It's one thing to go out and have a good time, but know when to say enough is enough. This is the ultimate no-no. There is nothing worse than cleaning up someone else's used Jagermeister. Please, please, please just don't. 

Now, to put a halt to any backlash before it has the chance to ensue, of course I'm not talking about any of my regulars. You guys are my friends and most of you are competent and well rounded patrons who know better. I'm talking about the Chad's and Christy's who stop in on a Friday night on their way to Old Town.

I have no idea who made this video but whoever it is, they're a genius.
Ladies and gentlemen, I leave you with a typical day at my office:

Sold!

So we finally did it. 

All the financial struggles, the saving, the searching, the excitement, the disappointment...

It all finally came to a fantastic conclusion. 

We found our house. 

And we spent 10 million years signing paperwork. 

My realtor, Mary, said in all the years she's been doing this as her job, she's never ever had clients bring champagne to a closing. This truly boggles my mind. I mean, who doesn't bring champagne to a closing? It's our first house! This is a big deal! This is cause for celebration and not at all a true sign that we're total alcoholics and any accuse to day drink would be fine with us!

I will give a few words of advice now that we've gone through it and lived to tell the tale:

1: Try to not let the stress get too bad, chill out, and really enjoy this day. Bring champagne, relax, laugh and high five each other when you finish the last signature. 

2: Take a million pictures.

3: Make sure to ask your realtor to bring a "sold" sign when you do your final walkthrough the day of closing. There are 3 days that will go down in my personal history as monumental game changers and they are the day I married Jason, the day my daughter was born, and the day I bought my first house. This is a picture we will always cherish and I'm so thankful we got a snap shot of it. 

And seriously, if I was a neighbor peeping through my mini-blinds to check out what was moving in next door to me, this would be exactly the kind of thing I would want to see. Anyone who moves in a life sized R2D2 on a jogging stroller must be the best new neighbors ever. (In my opinion)

So although our walls are still the creepy grey color of a dead body, we're eating off an Igloo cooler for a dining room table, I can't find the box of coffee cups so I'm drinking out of wine glasses, and the furniture hasn't been delivered so we're sitting on patio chairs... 

We're in!

This is my view for the next few weeks, but at least it's a view of progress and we couldn't be happier about it. 

Thank you for all the well wishes and I'll keep you updated on all the progression!

Homeownership! Whaaaahooooo!

(high five)

Full Steam Ahead

Every morning I make myself a latte in my espresso machine.
I put the water in and I wait for the pressure to build so it can steam my milk. Right before that release happens, everything gets so loud and there is nowhere for that pressure to go except out.
And then everything just stops.
Things are just so still.

So for me, where I am in my life right now, it's like the steam just came out.

Everything has just stopped and it's so so quiet around here.

This last few weeks has been complete mayhem with the shut down of my work, the stress of buying our first house, vacation planning, and all three of us being sick.
Then yesterday, I got a phone call from our lender saying that she finally has everything that she needs for our loan. There is no more paperwork to send or forms to sign until we close on the 25th. It was also my final shift at work. The beer companies came and picked up all their left overs, the regulars came and had their final cocktails, and I finished my final close-out paperwork. California is only 5 days away but the major plans have already been planned, outfits have already been packed, airplane busy bag ideas have already been taken care of...

So that's it for now,

I guess?
Right?

I woke up this morning and I don't have anything pressing to get done. It's snowing outside so Jason is off work, it's Saturday so Kalynn is home from school, and none of us have anything to do.

It is the most bizarre feeling I think I've ever had in my life. 

I suppose I'll start packing up the house, maybe work on some new recipes, drink a lot of wine and just hang out for a while.
Sounds terrible, right?

Most people would kill to have a month break but for whatever reason I feel completely lost and in a full on panic.

So.
To sum up:
expect a few of these random posts from me this month.

Because I don't have anything better to do.

Contents Under Pressure

Here's the thing about pressure: it will either make you thrive or implode. Either way you'll get a definite ending.

We've bought a house and a car within 1 week of each other. The house and all the stress that comes along with closing the deal is enough to drive someone a little bonkers anyway, but I've also thrown in a new stick shift which I have no idea how to drive and I've spent the last week screaming at my clutch and honking my horn at myself.

That same week, my employers sold our company and now we're gearing up for a remodel and will be shut down for 3 weeks. My daughter is sick with bronchitis, my dog is going blind, my husband needs a hair cut, and I could use a cocktail.

In addition, California is now only a rock's skip away! In two short weeks, Kalynn and I will be flying over our little world of beautiful hectnicity (hecticness? Are these words?) to escape for a week of sunshine and total lack of responsibility. The week of our return, we'll be closing on our new house and starting our own little version of the American dream, followed by our 3rd marriage anniversary, Jason's 35th birthday, an amazing Mother's Day weekend with my mom complete with a show by one of my very favorite bands The Dandy Warhols, and then straight to a book signing by soul mate of an author Tom Robbins at a bookstore which was a visiting place on my Colorado Bucket List from a few months back.

I mean, Jesus Christ.

I need to redirect some of this pressure.
My dear Luna has filled up and is deflating once again drawing a close to the 3rd quarter and moving along into the 4th.
I often take my cue from the Moon.
In football, as I've learned working in a sports bar the last year and a half, the 4th quarter isn't much of a time for slacking. The 4th quarter is a time to gather your shit and make sure you leave no room for things to creep up behind you. It's an important time to be alert and on your A game.

Which is why it makes no since that tonight I'm planning on grabbing a 6 pack of good beer and drowning in my couch watching the new Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon.

So in conclusion, I have no cute craft or recipe or photo shoot or advice. I just wanted to throw a tiny little update out here to explain why I've been on a brief Rocky Mountain Hiatus.
(Did you see what I did there?)

Love to all,
-Krista

Bah Humbug

The snow is starting to fall, the temperature has dropped into negative digits, the sky looks like elephant skin and there are Salvation Army bell ringers stationed at every store.

It's that time of year again.


When it's this cold outside, everything freezes.
Personal motivation included.
I can't seem to want to do anything besides hide inside an electric blanket and my own head.

Alas, there is chili to be crock-potted, goodies to be baked, blogs to be written, and so I must get out of bed, peel myself away from the fire place, and continue on this lovely little path of mine.

But since we all spent last month thinking about all the things we were thankful for, and also because this is the season of making a list and checking it twice...

Here's a little random list of things I'm not so thankful for (AKA: Things I hate).
You know, to even the score between November and December.

1.The bells above gas station doors.

2. The special effect that makes babies or animals talk on TV. 

3. Mustard.

4. Raw onions.

5. Birkenstalk sandals.

6. Being breathed on 

7. Being told to calm down or chill out.

8. Mornings without immediate access to coffee

9. The majority of gum commercials

10. The Wiggles

11. Being cold

12. Pumping gas

13. Having to follow someone in their car but they drive too fast like an asshole and I end up loosing them.

14. Every kind of music my husband likes. 

15. Stubbing my pinky toe.

16. My dog's diesel fuel farts

17. Hangovers.

18. The fact that nobody ever wants to play Monopoly.

19. Getting stood up.

20. Having to do other people's jobs for them because they're lazy or just stupid. 

21. When 2 things are on at the same time, like a TV and a radio together (my head will explode)

22. Clapping in the car. 

23. Whistling.



So now you all know my likes and dislikes just a little bit better! (It's important to know things like this about your bloggers.)
Well, on that note, I hope everybody's heaters are running up to par and do try to stay warm out there!

This cold front is a doozy!

Life Lessons

I've had a very unconventional life. I've done some crazy things, met some crazy people, learned some crazy lessons. With Thanksgiving coming up it is forcing me to think about what I'm thankful for. This year, I'm recognizing that I'm thankful I've learned some vital things from my experiences. I don't know everything, but I do know some things very well. I guess I'm just sort of taking a mental inventory.

1. Don't ever buy sandwiches from a vending machine or a gas station.

2. If someone does something awful to you, it doesn't define who you are. The past isn't a magician who casts a spell on your present. Take the blows, feel the burn, get up, dust yourself off, and carry on. You never have to forget, but you do have to let it go.

3. Having a life altering crisis is the perfect time to reinvent yourself.

4. If you don't like who you are or where you are or what you're doing, change it. That's the thing about life, you only get one. Make it one you're happy with. Plan an Under-New-Management party and reopen the place. By the place, I mean your head.

5. Tip, and tip well! Bartenders and waitresses are the people who delegate good and bad karma in the afterlife.

6. Don't ignore the connections you have with people, you'll piss off the universe that put those people in your life for a reason.

7. Disappointment is a million times worse than anger. Regardless, refer to rule #2.

8. Drink lots of water.

9. YOU'RE vs YOUR. There is difference and it is not that difficult. You're jealous of my awesome car. My other ride is your mom.

10. Travel often. A change of scenery can change your mindset. (I learned that one from my mom)

11. ALWAYS stand up for yourself. What is right for you may be wrong for everyone else, but who cares? The world isn't going to end if you go against the grain.

12. Opportunities always look larger going than coming.

13. The line between having a hobby and having a psychotic mental illness is very fine.

14. Real friendship isn't about being there when it is convenient, it is about being there when it is not. And on the subject of friends, these are the people who talk shit to your face and speak kindly behind your back. Not the other way around.

15. Chew with your goddamn mouth closed.

16. Don't ever half-ass anything. Everything you do should be with full intensity. Make mistakes with everything you've got, sneeze from the very bottom of your belly, laugh with all the breath in your lungs, work like you're getting paid a million dollars, be lazy like you'll never get another chance. Whatever you're doing, commit and kick some ass at it.

17. Don't be a victim.

18. Trust that what people do means a hell of a lot more than what people say.

19. The unknowns and the whys of the world are the hardest to take.

20. Let the other car change lanes. Don't be a dick.

21. Mediocrity has no place in love. There are far too many unexceptional things in this world, love should not be one of them.

22. Every night the Moon teaches a class on romance, you just have to sign up for it.

23. A Brazilian bikini wax hurts like a bitch.

24. There is always more to learn. Thank your lucky stars for the healthy brain that makes it possible and never take that for granted.

25. Finding your passion is important. Finding the right people to fuel it is also important. Never back down to the people who are standing next to you with a bucket of water ready to put out your fire. (A lesson I learned from BJ, who lost his battle with cancer but taught me more about passion than anyone I know who is still living)

26. Pain can be useful. Suffering on the other hand, well, there isn't anything useful about suffering. Squash that shit as quickly as you possibly can.

27. There is never an instance, never ever ever ever, where messing up your credit score is worth it. Pay your bills, and pay them on time.

28. Jimmy Fallon is always a good decision.

29. Failure and mistakes aren't verdicts.

30. Try to look cute wherever you go.  Make the effort.

31. Sometimes there are people you shouldn't let slip away. It may be inopportune, but sometimes you should just grip like hell and hold on tight. Because you just never know.

32. But with number 31 being said,  you should never hesitate to trade your cow for a handful of magic beans. It's important to know the difference.

Rendezvous At Meet Up Point

The thing about blogging is that it takes a lot of effort. And networking. And Time.
While this year has been great for me at The Brighter Writer as far as exposure, sponsors, and luck of the draw, I'm certainly not the world's most professional social media influence. I hear constantly about blogging conferences, seminars, and opportunities but I rarely take advantage of them. I read the advice columns about the importance of consistent writing but I just don't have the time or energy to write as much as I'd sometimes like to.

But I do just fine.

I'm very happy with my little community of readers.

And I thank the people who constantly show up to read what I have to say.

This week I'm trying something different.

It seems as though the pages in which I subscribe are all participating in NaBloPoMo. I can't write every single day for a month. I just can't. And I can't imagine anyone would want to read a post where I was really reaching for a subject. I would think after a few weeks I would just run out of things to write about. Which is why, I suppose, I've been reading all these articles lately from my fellow bloggers along the lines of "100 topics for writer's block" or "50 ideas to get your blog started" or "creative writing jump starts..." You get the idea.

Out of complete curiosity, I read one of these lists and it was totally not my cup of tea. (Idea 27: Write about the last thing that made you cry??? What the hell?!!!)

However one of them took me to the link of a photo challenge. This totally insane woman took a photograph every hour on the waking hour, for an entire year. Partly for her readers who like to see how other people live, and also to just have a journal to look back on some day.

I won't be doing that either.

But I thought it might be fun to try it for a day.

I set my alarm for every hour on the hour, and wherever I am, whatever I'm doing, will be photographed.

So in the words of Pee Wee Herman, "Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer?"

 6AM: I meet up with this stud, Mr. Coffee, and we fall deeply in love. 

7AM: Everyone in the house is physically awake yet mentally still asleep. It's still quiet enough to get a little work done. Today's essay: The Brotherhood Of The Traveling Unicorn (final draft).

8AM: I listen to my husband sing a nice little homemade song about how much he enjoys food ("♪♫ Oh my God, I love food so muuuuuch, ♪♫ I love the way it tastes in my moooouth and I wish I could just eat all the tiiiiiime...♪♫") and an encore about how today is definitely a hat day while he tries to fix his hair. Kalynn and I eat the breakfast casserole which is freshly out of the oven. 

9AM: I (along with my entourage) listen (and dance around) to our favorite Pandora station while I put on my makeup. 

10AM: We're roaming around Target, checking out the toy section, making a mental note of our list for Santa.

11AM: Kalynn makes the executive decision of being this hour's photographer since she already has possession of my phone.  In true Marie Antoinette form, she instructs me to smile and then cuts off my head. 

12PM: We make our way downtown to the Lincoln Center to buy tickets for Kalynn's performance in the upcoming Nutcracker ballet. The door is open so we pop our heads in and check out where she will grace the stage as the cutest and most talented snowflake that ever lived. 

1PM: With half the day successfully behind us and nap time creeping up fast, we take a few minutes to construct and jump in the world's largest leaf pile just outside our building. 

2PM: It's time for my break. And by break I mean time to fold the laundry, wash the dishes, prepare dinner and pick up the living room. It is also the hour when I become queen of the creeper club and spy on my baby and her cuteness.

3PM: Both of my children are freshly awake with emotions deeply rooted in codependency. Everyone wants soy milk and a snuggle from Mommy and nothing else will substitute. 

4PM: Time to clean out the car. I'm on fruit-bar-wrapper patrol while Kalynn mans the camera. 

5PM: Jason is home! And he brought Happy hour with him!

6PM: Turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, stuffing, green bean casserole and brown sugar sweet potato pie.

7PM: There are 2 things to remember about the gym: #1 Summer bodies are made in the Winter and #2 no matter how slow you go, you're still lapping everybody on the couch.

8PM: Bedtime for Kalynn. But first, snuggles with Daddy in the book nook.

9PM: Wine and my pup-doo. 

10PM: Goonies never say die!

10PM: Tomorrow night there is a full Moon in Taurus and a meteor shower shining from the constellation Leo. The combination of being a Leo myself and having an influential Taurus in my life, it kind of makes it feel like this particular full moon is my very own. The Universe is apparently on our side right now. 

There you have an average day in the life of Me.  Goodnight!

Totally Tubular

Look at me:

Rocking my velcro KangaRoo sneakers with the little pocket on the side, homemade terrycloth jumper shorts that my mom made me, and my little blond mop of a haircut looking like a total 80's kid. 

Last night, my daughter and I piled up on the couch under the electric blanket to watch the new Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. It was an adventure story about Kansas City Mickey and his quest to find an archaic tomb shaped like mouse ears. After going through a series of educational places on his map, he ends up at his final destination and breaks open to tomb door to find an "ancient machine" called a record player. Kansas City Mickey goes on to explain how this "old time" contraption was used to play music to people who are now basically fossils...

"Mommy what is that thing??!!"

Of course this got me to thinking... (because you know, what doesn't right?)

I loved playing records with my mom when I was a little girl. Our record player was attached to our 8 track player, and we had red headphones that were way too big for my head that I would hold onto while dancing around to old Beatles LPs. 

I remember my first visit to a glorious place called Tape World (!!!) just a few short years later with my big sister:

It's a shame that our kids will never know the correlation between these two things:

Did you ever drink Tang?

Did you ever write "Class of (insert your graduation year here) ROX!" on your Trapper Keeper?

Put blue eye shadow on your Pound Puppy?

Trade Lisa Frank stickers?

Read Flowers in the Attic or Sweet Valley High from your school's bookmobile and have to sign your name for it on one of these?

Then get points for it with the Book It! program to trade into a personal pan pizza from Pizza Hut?

Did you learn most of what happens during puberty through Degrassi Jr High episodes, burn the tips of your fingers on your Easy Bake oven, wear L.A. Gear sneakers with your Z-Cavaricci jeans and your brown leather bomber jacket sporting your Swatch Watch while applying your Bonne Bell flavored chapstick? Did you throw Koosh balls at your siblings while fighting over your Light Bright and keep all your fingernail polish in your hot pink and purple Kaboodle?

Did you spend hours playing with a water ring toss game that you could NEVER win?

Or get super excited for the day in gym class when they busted out the giant parachute?

Or practice spelling your name on a Magic Slate?

Or hide in your closet with the lights off making your Gyro Wheel spin?

Did you drink Clearly Canadian?

Collect Weebles?

Munch on PB Max?

Constantly lose your led pieces to your Push-a-Point pencils?

Learn how to use a calculator from the Little Professor?

Did all the commercials you saw while watching You Can't Do That On Television convince you that you had to have every Wildlife Treasury card?

Did you drink Burples and then use them as bath toys?

Did you lay in your bed with your scrunch socks on flipping through YM magazine and talking to your friends on a see through phone?

Did you spray Ex'cla*ma'tion! perfume on your Cabbage Patch Kid while crimping your hair and listening to Mr. Mister?

Do you remember how hard it was to get your Popple in the right shape?

Remember how we all tried to eat Pop Rocks and drink Coke (Or Crystal Clear Pepsi) to see if we'd explode? Remember how hard it was to not trip over your Skip it? Or how difficult it was to stay on your Pogo Ball?

Did your sister ever lock you in Mayor McCheese jail as you wiped your tears on your Hypercolor t-shirt and swore you were going to flush her Snoopy Sno-Cone maker down the toilet when you got home?

Did you watch Troop Beverly Hills a thousand times during your slumber parties and fight over who had the most Troll Dolls? Or play Zork on your Commodore 64 computer? Or have to sit through film strips in school while chomping on your Big League Chew thinking of last night's Alf episode? Or watch Just The Ten Of Us while playing with your Fraggle Rock toys? Did you wear banana clips in your hair when you were playing Heads Up 7-Up during recess because it was raining outside? Did you learn how to fold notes 12 different ways to write to your best friends and sign them all "L-Y-L-A-S"? 

It really is a shame that all these things are relics stuck in an antique world...

Because man! Those were the days....