Finish Line

Mb tagged me the other day with this awesome award:


The rules for this award are fairly straight-forward:

1. Post a funny or sweet keepsake that tells something about you.

2. Pass the award on to 10 other bloggers that you think are keepers.

The problem is, I don't read 10 other blogs (yet), and the few readers I do have, don't all have blogs (yet). So, in lieu of passing this award onto 10 other bloggers, I'm challenging you, dear readers, to post a comment and tell me about a funny or sweet keepsake of yours. Because, dear readers, you are ALL keepers to me. So do it.

While I read Mb's story about the best valentine she ever got, I started pondering what treasured keepsake I might blog about. As soon as I walked into my apartment at the end of the day, I knew.

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This little guy has made every single move I've made over the years with me. He's got a lot of love and probably more than a little crusted on dirt, but he still has a place of honor on my shelf.

Just in case you can't quite make out the fine, but important, print at the bottom, here's a close-up:

"Blessed Are They That Overcome."

My great Aunt Emma gave me when I was very young. For a long time, I liked him because Aunt Emma gave him to me. Plus, the puppy is cute. But it took many years before I understood the meaning behind this little boy with crutches crossing the finish line. And now, every time I cross a finish line, I think of both this little guy and my great Aunt Emma and smile at all the silent encouragement they have given me over the years.

Creative Compliments: Take Three

"Should've been a cowboy

Should've learned to rope and ride

Wearin' my six shooter

Ridin' my pony

On a cattle drive"

One of the holdovers from living in Colorado is my complete love of cowboys. So naturally, I couldn't resist a grin when I saw a cute cowboy on the train when I left work yesterday. Cowboy hats really stick out in this blue, black, grey suit town.

What I loved more than the cowboy hat was the cowboy manners. He stood back, saying "ma'am" as he let all disembarking females off the train before he got off. And, as he walked past me, he grinned, winked, and tipped that adorable hat in my direction.

So, it wasn't a spoken compliment, but it sure made my day just the same.

Signs of Summer: Fourth of July - For Reals

Nothing screams summer quite like the all-American Fourth of July holiday. And nothing screams Fourth of July quite like the weekend I had with Mb and Sesky Lesky in the Dirty Jerze.

Not buying it? Allow me to make the following point(s):

1) Beachside picnic consisting of ubiquitous colorful beach umbrellas everywhere, sorching hot sand - seriously, burnt feet burn - and, most importantly, wayyyyyy too much food - fabulous sandwiches, cherries, grapes, watermelon, peaches, cookies, peanut m&ms, and a gallon of ice tea.

2) Boogie boarding! 'nuff said. With the skyline of Manhattan looming in the squinty-eyed distance.

Yes, I shamelessly swiped this pic of me and Sesky Lesky from Mb.

3) Hot dogs, cheeseburgers, and an escape dog that should have been named Houdini. All of which segued into heart to heart in-depth conversations about meaningful things such as bad life decisions regarding hair color, similar naughty words in multiple languages, whether Lesky is now Amish, and, most importantly, "Book-Face."

4) Stimulating the economy by taking serious advantage of the Fourth of July sales and Jersey being sales tax free. A new outfit consisting of a Kate Hill dress and blazer and Anne Klein pumps for a whopping 23% of the original full price, with no sales tax? Oh hells yes.

5) Poolside lounging, trampoline jumping, and Polish BBQ food eating. The first resulted in some serious overeating. Not going to lie.

6) A sparkly patriotic Uncle Sam hat and red, white, and blue mardi gras beads. Don't hate. We know you wish you were as cool as we are, even when we show off our fabulous patriotism.

Zsa zsa made this bbq with her festive outfit.

7) Eyeing and vetoing suspicious carny rides. Well, one of the three of us was wise enough to opt for the paparazzi role. Eyeing and vetoing the ridiculous lines for classic carny foods such as funnel cakes and cotton candy. Even if I r-e-e-e-a-a-a-l-l-l-l-y-y-y wanted some funnel cake deliciousness.

All else fails, I could become a papparazzo.

8) Awesome Fireworks. On the Fourth of July. While listening to a band play Americana classics such as "Born in the USA" and "Proud to be an American." The latter of which prompted several hours of off-key, "I-won't-admit-I-don't-know-the-rest-of-the-words" repeat singing.

Before you get your hopes up that I'm that talented as a photographer, click here.

9) Late night bonfires and roasting Polish kielbasa. The perfect follow-up to fab fireworks is bonfires, vanilla-strawberry cake, and roasting kielbasa over open flames. Too much junk food kept me from personally roasting any kielbasa.

10) Lazily recovering from the festivities on the swing on the sunny deck. But being lazy didn't keep me from warily watching out for any stray bears that may have stumbled into the backyard. 10 miles outside of the Big Apple and we have to watch out for bears in the backyard?! Seriously, too country for this girl.

Fabulous weekend with fabulous company. Totally worthy of a repeat and/or scheming new adventures. As a side note, I seem to be coming up with all-time top-ten lists a lot lately. Think a career as a late-night talk show host is in the cards for me?

Butterfly Dreams

When I was in high school, I had a giant paper butterfly floating in the corner of my bedroom. I loved her.

Somewhere in college, I decided I had outgrown her and took her down. I miss her.

While My Love still lived in Chicago, we spent an afternoon on the beach flying kites. Being my girly-girl self, I insisted on a butterfly kite. I loved it. My Love, on the other hand, had quite a bit of trouble keeping my kite in the air. After one particularly spectacular round of verbal abuse following more kite troubles, I scolded, "Hey! That's Miss Butterfly to you!"

See? Miss Butterfly in all her flying glory.

Sometime after that trip, My Love started calling me butterfly (among many other terms of endearment and muttered under breath curses). It stuck. I love it.

And now, I'm trying to talk myself out of this wickedly cool (and totally grown-up) butterfly mobile. I love it. I want it. But do I need it? Really?

I'm not ashamed to admit that this would look rockin' with my black, silver, and white decor.

Creative Compliments: Take Two

A newer arrival in my client's office stopped me in the hall today:

"I just love seeing that perma-smile. It's fantastic. You should market it."

Signs of Summer: Fourth of July

Peeps, I've been meaning to do a write-up of the fab Fourth weekend spent in the Dirty Jerze. However, I've been a wee, teeny, tiny bit busy (as it always seems lately) this week. So, for all the adventures and mischief I found myself in over the Fourth of July, check out Mb's great write-up.

Thanks Mb!

Top Ten

I've been missing My Love something fierce lately. I always miss him, but the intensity of it ebbs and flows sometimes.

Thus, to distract myself from missing him too much, I have been trying to come up with a top ten list of reasons why it's a good thing My Love is so far away (all of which I would trade in a heartbeat for actually having My Love here)...so, in no particular order:

1. Sole possession of the remote - very important. Without this, I would be unable to fulfill my borderline obsessive habit of watching every.single.episode. of whatever TV series my current crush happens to be in. Past examples include, among others, Josh Duhamel in Las Vegas or Seth Cohen in The O.C. Yes, you read that right. Don't judge. And for the record, no matter how much My Love teases me for it, he should take comfort in the fact that I'm consistent in my crushes - sexy, dark-haired, adorably geeky guys.

2. Sole control of the bathroom - no need to worry about whether my curling iron or hairbrushes, or makeup, or perfume, or other random odds and ends are cluttering up the sink. There are no "you used all the toilet paper!" discussions. And, I can purchase ultra-girly products, such as cutesy pink and brown polka dot cups or the beloved, way-too-old, brightly colored striped shower curtain. Marathon make-up, baths, or dress-up sessions are not met with thinly patient compliments of "you look beautiful already!" to hurry me along.

3. Meals that aren't really meals - ya'know, popcorn and Diet Pepsi for dinner. Or chocolate for breakfast if that's really all I want. With someone else around, you have to be a little more considerate of meal times and actual meals versus the non-stop grazing of the single life.

4. Middle of the bed sleeping - I can park myself in the middle of the big ole' bed and surround myself with 15,000 pillows and blankets and not worry that My Love will fall out of the 0.9 centimeters I might have left at the very edge of the bed. Which, if we're being honest, I really only do so as not to feel so alone in the big ole' bed.

5. No blanket wars - hand in hand with number 4, My Love and I don't have to wrestle for Comforter, or ridiculously, use two Comforters in one bed. The possibility that I may leave My Love for Comforter is thinning with each passing day, but I'm not about to admit that to him just yet.

6. Shamelessly girly possessions - such as tropical plates or more than 4 pairs of shoes. I like to think that for the most part, my apartment is fairly gender-neutral. But, while I can, I'm relishing in having flowers everywhere, or curling up under a throw blanket with more than just a hint of pink in it.

7. A distinct lack of funky smells - My Love admitted that I'm missing out. Oh darn. Instead, I get to have more girly scents fill the air. Like lavender, or gardenia, or cinnamon. Not last night's meat lover's pizza....or "beef" stew.

8. No tickling! - My Love seems to be incapable of spending any amount of time near me without at least attempting to tickle me. I have yet to break him of this habit, so, as far as I'm concerned, this may just be the greatest thing about our super-long-distance relationship. On the flip side, it's awfully hard to tickle My Love when he's so far away....


9. A need for blush - because whenever My Love's around, I usually am perpetually red-faced from some ridiculously scandalous (and occasionally funny) thing My Love has just said or done. "Tell me, KtMac's Mama, about absolutely every, single, little embarassing thing KtMac has ever done in her life......" At least, when he's halfway around the world, I can control the amount of color on my cheeks with just a swipe of blusher in the mornings.

10. Written proof - of some of the crazy, random, silly, wonderful, loving things My Love has said. That has to be a distinct advantage to having so many conversations on Skype. Without the written proof, I have no doubt that My Love would adamently deny things like his scheme to Fed-Ex puppies, the fact that he called himself "sexy mcsexerson," or that living in Albania has detriorated his English skills.