What's the Vig on this Action?

Bad news. Susanna Sue (my Volvo) has issues. For you smarty pants, it isn't because she's a Volvo but more due to the fact that she's old and I think this is her way of getting back at me for bringing her to MN. My mechanic (who is anti foreign cars) just went through a whole list of why I need to get rid of her. I about cried. She's mine and it's the only thing that I actually own with worth of over $1,000. (Not gonna lie - I'm really not into the idea of owning a house.)

So that's it. I guess I'll start looking while she's still healthy enough get me to dealerships. Just not the situation I want to be in - I like her way too much to let go. Who wouldn't love a cute, spacious car that has seat-warmers?!

As for the update on the neighbor - no go. I haven't seen him in over a week. Though, the other neighbor apparently was coming home at the same time that my cousin and I were arriving back after a social night at The Independent. I guess (according to my cousin) that you shouldn't go and knock on someone's door after 3 am. I personally just wanted to make friends and he was nice (also asking us if we were okay due to my key issues - we were but weren't, if that makes any sense). But, of course, this idea didn't come to mind until 30 mins after talking to him in the hall. While I was determined to make a new friend I found my cousin bracing herself against the door, forbidding me of making a house call.

Current # of friends in apt building: 0
# of times I've padded down to the foyer in slippers to get my mail: 12

I hope those statistics aren't related.

Down the Hall

I have a neighbor just down the hall who I am quite curious about. The first time I met him I was struggling to get up the stairs at 2 am, not because I had consumed too much, but because I was carrying life-sized posters of Chad Greenway from the MN Vikings. He was with another buddy and a girl and I felt quite dorky cause this is what I was doing on a Saturday night - clad in a t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, carrying milk mustache poster boards. He asked if I needed help (it was very apparent with my grunting and climbing the steps at the speed of a snail) but I refused. Finally, as they waited for eternity to get to the 2nd flight of stairs he upped and grabbed the end and walked me to my door. I was embarrassed to say the least and mumbled a weak "Thank you."

The next time I saw him, I was rushing into our building all sweaty due to being at the gym earlier. He was out having a smoke and tried to make small-talk with me while I attempted to open the door with my poorly cut key. I was feeling kinda dumb, so I kept my eyes on my keys and just mumbled a "hi". Weak, I know.

The last time I saw him I was making a bit of noise at my door (stupid keys) and felt someone staring at me from down the hall. Of course it was him. I smiled and finally made my way into my apartment and slammed the door shut. Even weaker, got it.

I don't know what his deal is. Perhaps I'm a bit amusing to have around seeing I have issues with carrying stuff, opening doors and seem to always be at my worst. I don't know if he's fascinated or or what but it's apparent that he finds some form of fascination with me. I am half tempted to bake some cookies and leave them at his door (of course I'll knock and run away) but I'm afraid that it might give the wrong impression

(Not gonna lie, for years I always wanted to be that neighbor who brought over the "housewarming" casserole....but it just never felt right.)

I think I should attempt to get to know him seeing I am dying for new friends in my new location, but how should I go at it without seeming creepy? (I swear, everything is considered "creepy" or "stalking" these day...)

I guess I'll just have to let it play out; it's bound that we'll run into each other again.

Happy Earth Day and No, I will not give you a dollar.

I would like to consider myself a caring person - one who will donate their time and money for a good cause. I am bothered by homelessness and the increase in it due to our current economic times. But there is just something about a certain person who I saw on the street the other day that made me lose all sympathy.

As I was walking downtown Minneapolis with my friend we walked past numerous beggers. Some tried to talk to you, others just sat there and held a sign. With each one we passed I felt awful and secretly hoped that they weren't actually in such a dire situation. I also made a mental note to sign-up to help out at a shelter soon. As we were about to cross to another street a cigarette box was tossed across our path. We turned to see who had done this, surprisingly enough it was an older gentleman clad in dirty clothes and sitting against the building holding a sign asking for money. (And let me note: there was a trash can 10 ft from the man)

The guilt left me immediately and fury set in. My friend just smiled and kept walking as if she hadn't seen a thing I, on the other hand, went into a rage of why I wouldn't give him a dollar because I just paid that to him with my tax dollars paying to pick-up his trash. I didn't say it directly to him but made sure to say it loud enough while standing at the corner waiting for the light. Call me heartless but if you don't take the time to respect your surroundings, like heck I'm gonna help you out.

Though after my little stumpfest, two blocks later I tripped and pulled a muscle in my foot.

I got the message.

The Post Office

I love the post office - so much to the point that I convinced myself that I needed to get my own P.O. Box (and yes, there's a purpose for it....work). Anyhow, I took a good amount of time picking out my 'local' Post Office based on hours, location, type of building and parking. I found one down on 1st St. in Mpls and with each visit fall a bit more in love with it. That is....until today.

I got cat-called. Twice.

Now I have been cat-called before, by construction workers, on the streets of SanFran and by GW undergrads but never would think that I would be cat-called while walking to Window 7 to send some 1st Class mail and buy some stamps and to top it off, I had just come from the gym. What is so sexy about a girl with sweaty hair, workout pants (loose) and scuffed sneakers and, AND no make-up? I'll tell you. Nothing! I know it's Monday and you're probably still asleep seeing it's 8 in the morning but good gracious, don't cat-call a girl at the Post Office.

I wonder what I would've gotten if I had actually looked nice?

April Fools - Not Engaged

Today is April 1st. I am not participating in anything. Why? Let's see, the last two years I was engaged and the year before ('06) with child. Those are the big cards and well, they've been used and now it's just considered "cryin' wolf" as far as I see it. The sad thing is, so many people believed it for the last three years. I don't know what that says about me.....loose and don't care about future? I'd hope friends/family know me better than that!

Granted, after this past weekend I think I may need to step-up the game of maturing. As in, never agree to a date after midnight and then enhale too much wine.

What I can't wait for today is the announcing of the "Rock the Garden" line-up!!!


And word came out that Ms. Lancaster is doing an '80's theme for her book tour of Pretty in Plaid - how awesome is that? I have a feeling that '09 is all things '80s (re: Rosslyn film line-up). I think I'll have to participate in all that I can.

Ready to Hire

It's 5:10 pm on a Friday and I have a problem.

There are a million happy hours going on around this city and I am co-workerless.

Next on agenda - get assistant and do a lot of happy hours to make up for lost time.

Mother Nature

I don't like you...........


Today is the first day I'm working from home in 4 weeks and guess what? Yeah....you decided to have it rain ALL DAY LONG. Not cool. Not cool at all.

..........Fail

Okay the cake challenge never happened (yet). Instead I have found myself working into the nice hours of the AM each night this past week while spending daylight within the confines of elementary and jr. high schools in Mpls/St.Paul. Please let's say that I now check "Teacher" off of my list of potental career changes.

I am still in a half-furnished apt but it's getting cozy. The roommate is excellent (note: I live alone). But I consider it 400 sq ft of bliss with the biggest walk-in closet I've ever owned. No twenty-something-year-old could ask for more. Okay, yes they could and I've got it - the liquor store & CVS & Jimmy John's are all on the same block. Jealous?

I want to complain and moan about life but really I can't. Other than the crazy woman who sits in my back alley and the man who liked to follow me around a store my life has been pretty dull. Granted I have found that my new 'hood isn't the most fitting for me seeing I'm a caucasian who votes typically (R), doesn't own a guitar and prefers a suit over a peasant skirt. Other than that, it's a perfect match!
I sometimes wonder what my neighbors think of me. I'm here at odd hours (note: work from home most days), I "dance" to the classical music that is played in our lobby and drive a clanking Volvo that is always filled with Vikings/Milk paraphanalia.

And now I'm blasting Styx and Foreigner at top levels....to to you below....love thy neighbor!

The Cake Challenge

Okay people, I've got a new challenge. No, it's not me attempting to find furniture that actually fits my quaint studio or re-vamping a company PowerPoint, nope, I'm doing a useless challenge.

I'm making a spaceship.

In cake form.

I may only have about 13 inches of counter space but I think I'll manage it.

My inspiration (other than beating a 25 yr old who's version of culinary art include noodles and sauce) it this photo......

$14.99

One day while speaking to an old co-worker (while employed at previous place) my co-worker said to me, "You need to write a book about all you do." I looked at her as if she had three eyes and was speaking in Thai. I like to think my life is somewhat adventurous but I have never found it to be book worthy. For example - right now I am sitting in a bed at a crappy hotel that I picked from a fool proof photo (the hotel does not have hot water - I am not a happy camper), I have a cold and each day for two wks I don a red t-shirt and hangout around middle school kids who could care less if I ever existed. Not to mention, when I'm done doing this I head back to my hotel room to have a "fun" night in a deadly city which usually consists of me working, watching/listening to news, exercising and IMing friends.

Don't worry, I'm not boohooing my life right now. I'm more than anything getting jumpy! I'm excited to have my own apt again, but right now it's only a place in which I've paid good money for to sit empty for a full week while I live in a hotel. This time on my little domestic (StL residency) I have gotten to spend time getting to know a few new people who are quite nice and actually intereting. Oh and who doesn't love the randoms they meet on the plane? Like the guy who yelled at me for touching his bag? Or the kind African lady who was ready to give me CPR after nearly collapsing on the plane after running the entire length of ORD for the last flight to MSP?

These people and places have left many-a-good stories for me to reminisce about and I wish I could bank of them, but I'll probably have to settle for them just being blog worthy.

But if I were to have a book....what ever would I title it?


Hrmmmmmm.......

"Adventure of a Dairy Girl"

"Desperately Seeking Princess Kay"

"Mooving My Way"

Cheesy, I know. Which reminds me,

Happy 6th Anniversary 3-A-Day!! Have you had your 3-A-Day of Dairy today?

I miss from the college days.

I watched movies where there were "peace protests" and "sit-ins" and the like but never witnessed too much on my two campuses. Yeah, there were camp outs on the lawn to recognize homelessness and the typical political protests/counter-protests which were more than fun to be a part of. That's college. But obviously I went to a pretty lame school where we didn't have the GREAT REVOLUTION.........

WATCH IT NOW - regardless of your thoughts on the current day democratic process you'll surely laugh your butt off and well, shake your head while praising yourself for never acting like this during your Enlightened Years.


Oh I wished I was an NYU student.

A Couch.

I have a couch theory.


Now in my mid-more to later-twenties I find myself a lot of decent furniture.... a double bed, a twin bed (with frames), peronally designed desk and lingerie bureau, refinished antique monograph stand, smoking stand....etc. I am not without. Except for a couch.

Why? Or how? As in, how is it that I can own all this other furniture and not own a decent couch? How could I have gone from place to place during/after college and never fully aquired my own couch? Sure I had a $20 piece of crap my senior yr and a parental hand-me-down but they weren't worthy of keeping when I moved east on a $100 budget. So I did without and relied on crappy couches that my roommates owned.

But still, as you may wonder, how is it that I am like this? The theory is simple. To me a couch means settling. And if you know me, that is a hard concept for me to swallow right now. People ask me where I live and the best answer is "out of a suitcase". Sure I am currently at my parents house (for the last 3 months) and before that I was out east in two cities and before that I moved between Ames, Fresno, St. Paul and Mpls during my collegiate years. But those were only a few moves of the past before the several moves of the future. So why would I want to invest a quality/heavy piece of furniture when I still have a lotta leaving left to do?

Answer - don't.

Problem - I am now taking over a 6 mo lease in Mpls.

To me this could be temporary or turn into something a little longer. Not sure. But do I want to put up with visitors not having a comfy place to sit when they visit? Would I subject them to sitting on pillows on the floor for an entire six months? I would like to think I'm a bit more hospitable than that but that means I need to swallow my theory and purchase a couch. I don't want to go the college route and buy any old thing that fits in a $50 budget....not I want an adult couch.

So there we have it. I think I need a couch. It stinks. I am trying to save $$ for whatever move the future may bring me (job relocation/grad school/shopping spree to Bloomingdales downtown Chicago ......), you just never know.

But if I am to purchase a couch hopefully I can find something similar to this -




By the way - I never knew this could be so annoying but someone who finishes EVERY sentence you try to say is beyond annoying and will force you to speak faster so they can't figure out what you plan on ending your last comment/thought with.

Eye of the Tiger

Tell me how it is possible that I JUST downloaded the song, "Eye of the Tiger"?! Seriously, as I'm pumping through to create the most awesome of awesome workout playlists....I realize that I don't have "Eye of the Tiger". I about smacked myself after that revelation. It's me for goodness sake - the girl who loves Rocky....who chose to move to Philly off of that one movie.

So needless to say, it is downloaded and I am ready to find some steps to run up.

By the way - I managed to watch news tonight - news based out of Winnipeg, Canada. I loved it, just when I think my accent is getting the better of me since I've moved back to the northland, I turn on that and feel so much better about self.

Speaking of accents......

Now there is one thing I have mixed feelings about, the new Renee Zellweger movie, "New in Town" - oy.

If you don't know, it's about a fashion laden/career driven girl from Miami who is transported to (gasp!) New Ulm, MN.... Oh the HORROR! I watched the two trailers. First, I will say that it looks cute. But why, of all states, must it be Minnesota?!? Haven't we had enough? I just hate that is gives off all of these mispreceptions about MN. Such as, we are weird talking folks (it's not as bad as they convey it to be), that we have zero sense of fashion (we do...it's just difficult to clomp around in stilettos when there's 3 feet of snow), that we are uncultured (hrm...most theater seats per capita other than NYC...gee, I guess we're a bit behind!) or that we find things, like the lake being frozen enough to drive on, as the main highlight of our day (trust me, it's nice to know when I can drive across the lake but it isn't THAT big of deal).

So, why can't there be a movie that shows what MN is really like? Clean. Healthy. Literate. Politically aware. Humble. And darn tootin' cute. (Just a few ideas)

By the way....for the people who are marketing the movie - New Ulm, MN is NOT considered northern MN....it is south, central MN. Get it straight you you supposedly smart, witty people.

Comfort Inn

A few things I have enjoyed thus far in NoDak -

- What would be crappy hotels in a big city are charming and clean (and offer free wireless)
- Preferred news source - FoxNews
- More political than ever expected
- Speed limit is 75 mph and NO traffic
- Heavy German accents
- Road condition reports go to the Canadian border
- Everyone is pretty darn nice and if they aren't they even come off nice for not being nice (odd, but totally makes sense)

Even though I don't think I'll ever live here I guess the state has made quite the impression on me. Perhaps if I come around to meeting a nice man with 1,000+ acres in the great tundra of NoDak, I'd consider it. Just as long as I was within 1 hr of an airport of some sort.

NoDak

I'm heading to North Dakota for week. Yipee! I'm looking forward to getting out and talking to dairy farmers but I'm not excited to be doing this at the end of January in one of the most coldest/flatest places in the U.S. If I don't return - you'll know where to look ..... somewhere between Bismark and Fargo. I'll be a solid ice cube.

Though, before the trip is to commence, I will be spending a good portion of my Saturday evening reviewing a PowerPoint and mapping my trip across the icy trunda. The big suitcase is already filled with Got Milk? goodies and the 59 min. plane travel from MSP to FAR has been declared. Yes, I'm taking a plane..from Minneapolis to Fargo....I don't like driving, can you tell?

Though, lest we not forget that no trip to New Salem is complete without visiting....
SALEM SUE!

The Gym.

Remember that whole anonymous thing? Well add to the list that I no longer can workout without knowing people. One of my brother's farm employees attends my gym. The part of this is I didn't realize it until about the 5th or 6th time of attending. I had noticed a boy that looked familiar but I chalked it up to being in a small town. Then it seemed weird how he would nervoulsy look away whenever I'd walk by. We never spoke - he always was working the free weights and I was pumping it in the cardio area. Finally it hit me - "He's one of the farm boys!!"

You may think I'm odd seeing I've seen this guy on the farm every morning for the last 6 wks but trust me, people look WAY different when they aren't head to toe in Carhartt and cow poop. Even though I figured this out, we still aren't on talking basis there. We chat at the farm but I'm waiting to see how long it was before he says at least "Hi".

I'm a little excited over this test to see how long it is before he breaks and have a hard time keeping my mouth shut. It's as if I have a secret and now know a lot more about him. (Ummm...yeah, totally know what kinds of funny faces he makes in the mirror when working the weights, hilarious!) So to add to this lazy attempt to play a game with someone it gets even better.

You see, I have been keeping my baby (the Volvo) in the heated shop at the farm so she won't go into shock in the subzero MN weather. I had a list of things to get done today....bring meat to Grandma, drop goodies off and flirt at new house, get meat cooler for DC trip, drinks with M and GYM. I run over to the shop and open the door only to see Worker Boys' pick-up in the way. (GAH!) I debated. Do I just move it or do I steal my dad's pick-up?? Seeing I've missed my baby I hop in hs pick-up and turn the key. VOOORM! Yes, you got it right. The thing is classic ghetto country pick-up with pipes. Love it and still can't figure out why boys like that. Then I hit a gold mine of infomation. While in the pick-up I noticed on the floor of his passenger side a container of whey protein. It hit me....the poor boy wants MUSCLES! I'm sorry, for I'm a huge supporter of whey protein for health reasons - as a means for muscle repair - but I know the motive behind a young 20-something boy. He's not looking to be the picture of health by exercising and replenishing. He's looking for some pipes and is trying to do it be excessive weight lifting and whey protein. Even though I was giddy over this bit of info I felt a little sad too. Maybe I should break my game and talk to him....perhaps an ego boost?

Hrm.

*********************DRINK OF THE WEEK*********************

To celebrate my vacation to western VA for some R&R with my best buddies:

The Manhattan
3/4 oz sweet vermouth
2 1/2 oz bourbon whiskey
1 dash Angostura® bitters
1 maraschino cherry
1 twist orange peel

Cheers!

Dear America,

Stop whining about the economy and having false hopes based on rhetoric.

And um, one more thing. Please remember this one thing that you seem to have forgotten over the past 8 years.........

"What is popular isn't always right and what's right isn't always popular."


Just remember America, I like you, even though you're a bit spoiled and have forgotten how good you've had it. I want to keep liking you more than all the others. So please don't ruin yourself with worse spending habits and playing with the bad kids. It's just not healthy. Just sayin'.

God bless you America!

Best,

Me.

Anonymous

I can't lie. I miss being anonymous. It is - to some people - not fun being anonymous but to me, it's a luxury. I moved from a city where I was fairly anonymous even after 1 year. I'm not saying walking around downtown, but even in my neighborhood I loved and loathed it. I loved it...cause it meant that I could go and do whatever I pleased and never have to worry about running into people and doing the forced smalltalk. I loathed it cause it meant that I didn't fit with the community. It meant I didn't belong there.

But now I'm back in the 'hood I grew-up in. I look a bit different and I haven't seen most people for at least 3-5 yrs but they remember me. I can't pick-up my dry cleaning or have lunch at the cafe by myself without running into someone I know - OR knows me. (sidenote: more people know me than I them for the fact that I did a PSA on the public cable network as a dairy ambassador one year. I'm still well known for that, oy!).

I miss the luxury of going to the grocery store for milk in my sweaty garb after the gym and not one person knew more, or even cared! Actually, the only time someone knew me was just another sweaty gym goer doing the same thing.

But I do have to say, it is fun (sometimes) running into relatives at the gas station or seeing some folks from church who I adored growing up. I just hope I remembered to match my socks!

If Only Wonkette.com Hired GOPers

In pj's with slippers on, sitting in comfy chair, laptop running and fireplace burning

C-SPAN & C-SPAN2 on TV


I'm watching the opening of the 111th Congress (while working, thank you very much!). After 2 hrs of non-stop Gchat about what's happening my friend replies -

"You are not allowed to liveblog congress to me."

No MJ for me, thank you very much.

I was going through some old photos with my other the other night. We were laughing at my silly tea party pics and the way I would wear my seed cap hat to mock my brothers' styles but then we came upon some golden ones. One where I was about the age of 10 and up in Brainard visiting Paul Bunyan. My friend and I came upon some cutouts - one of Michael Jackson and one of Ronald Reagan. Guess which one I chose to pose next to? Another photo shows me clad in campaign stickers and t-shirt for a family friend. There were more photos to that liking.

It may explain as to why I'm liveblogging the Opening of the 111th Congress to my friend right now. Or why I read the WSJ religously every day. Or why I workou to CSPAN. Or why my Dad and I will talk for hours about local politics.