Grey House Red Dog

30 is the new 29.

2012-02-09T15:13:00.000-08:00

A very happy birthday to my partner in crime, Mr. Grey House, who turned the big 3-0 at 6:02 this morning (so he tells me, I don't think he remembers).

Even though we're not in an exotic, fantastic locale like Portland (site of my 30th fete), the day - and weekend - will be full of friends, wine, and plenty of carbohydrates. Garozzo's will be involved (Was anyone else aware that you get free chicken spiedini on your birthday? No, just my husband?).

We're officially both in our thirties. Hmmm. Seems like that should make us adults?

Google Santorum.

2012-02-08T09:02:00.000-08:00

Seriously, I'll wait. It's worth it.

No one whose last name has been co-opted to that meaning has any business being the leader of the free world. And that doesn't even begin to touch his political viewpoints.

Are conservatives hell bent on ensuring Obama gets another term? Seriously?

In other news, life has been (not-so-organized) chaos. Chaos where my day starts at 5:00 a.m. and ends at 11:00 p.m., without much respite. Between the legislative session, Junior League, trying to fit in my training runs, and maintaining some semblance of a clean home, there's not a lot of free time on my agenda these days...which means not a lot of blogging - or interesting things to blog, for that matter. I did take an hour out last night to watch the triumphant return of my favorite housewives cast. Happiness. :)

In any event, I promise that my life will start to get interesting again. I hope.

In the meantime, I leave for your consideration the following (read: the only reason to watch the Voice):

Yes, this post did just reference presidential politics, reality television, and Adam Levine. Welcome to my brain, folks.

Beer me.

2012-01-23T19:42:00.000-08:00

Fuuuuck. What a terrible day to decide to cut back on the booze (more on this later).

If only I were independently wealthy.

That is all.

Big life moment.

2012-01-22T18:18:00.000-08:00

Okay, so it really isn't all that big of a life moment, but you all know that I love to be overly dramatic, so I'm going to go ahead and call it that.

Today, I did something that in my 30+ years of life I've never done: I officially joined a church. A fantastic church that actually makes me look forward to Sunday mornings (and not just in the "it's a great time for brunch!" kind of way).

Friends, I honestly never thought this day would come. I spent most of my childhood struggling with religion, and as recently as four years ago essentially failed the Jesus portion of our pre-marital counseling (Mr. Grey House of course passed with flying colors). What can I say, when you grow up in the rocky world I came from - not to mention losing your father and your home before you hit double digit birthdays - it's hard not to be a little (read: very) cynical about these sorts of things.

That being said, I'm over the moon that I found a church home here in Kansas City that speaks to exactly what I needed to hear; and leaves the social commentary at the door. Love love love.

In other news:

-Last week was a nightmare at work; and I have a feeling the coming week will be even worse. Nothing like working for an organization that is in the news. Nerve-wracking.

-Half marathon training continues! I have a fantastic run yesterday, so I'm thinking this five races in two months thing might actually work out.

-I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm getting a little bored with reality television. GASP. I know, I know. Sort of thinking about starting to filter it out of my 24/7. We shall see.

-Oh, South Carolina...Newt? Really? He's a glib, arrogant ass who has entirely too much extra skin on his face. Team Mittens!

-Is anyone else totally exhausted?? I hope the last three weeks isn't representative of what the entirety of 2012 will be like. Yikes.

Forget Football.

2012-01-15T15:10:00.000-08:00

This weekend, I have been begrudgingly watching the NFL playoffs (mainly to cheer against the Jesus Christ Superstar - words cannot describe the ways I despise him; and I don't even WATCH the NFL!). I cheered for a few fantastic K-Staters, but mostly just killed time until the main event: the start of awards season.

Yes, I'm camped out on the couch in my pajamas with a big glass of wine and a few (dozen) freshly made cookies, ready for all of the entertainment/celebrity/fashion glory. Of course.

So far, I'm mostly just jealous that someone who used to be a professional wrestler gets to date George Clooney. Oh, and as always, I wish that Guiliani's favorite subject wasn't Guiliani.

The main point of this post, however, is not George, or even who is wearing what (save that for later, obvi), but rather as blatant propaganda to encourage each and every one of you to go see The Artist. Immediately (well, maybe after the Golden Globes). I've been able to catch nearly all of the "buzzworthy" movies this year, and I can say without hesitation that it was the best movie I've seen in a long time (and there were some good ones...Moneyball!). Incredible.

Yes, it's in black and white. And yes, it's a silent film. But I absolutely guarantee you that you will enjoy it. I had to practically drag Mr. Grey House into the theatre (and promise drinks and Mi Ranchito after), and even he has started telling people it was his favorite so far. That's big stuff, friends.

Ooooohhhh....Adam Levine on the red carpet. Ok, time to focus.

Seacrest out.

Tuesday Night Returns.

2012-01-10T18:23:00.000-08:00

It's 8:24 p.m., and I'm in my pajamas in bed watching elections returns with a belly full of homemade pesto following a great run. Life is good, my friends. Hope it is for you as well.

A laundry list of things on my mind right now:

1. I have to thank Victoria for a little nugget of info I repeated several times today (and will continue to milk for a while): In a recent Vanity Fair poll, two percent of respondents thought Mitt Romney's full first name was Mittens. Yes, that's right. And amazing.

2. Team Mittens! What a night for him. I'm disappointed for Jon Huntsman, though, because he's my second favorite - sort of the guy I think about cheating on Mitt(ens) with, but I know it would never work...and that he's not electable in our super conservative Republican party of present. So, so handsome, though. Apparently I have a thing for Mormon men. Don't tell Mr. Grey House.

3. Speaking of Mr. Grey House, we're in a television battle right now (because we're both too lazy to go downstairs). I'm obviously following the Silver Fox Anderson Cooper, and he's desperate to watch the basketball game. Ok, we'll flip at commercials. EMAW!

4. The legislative session began yesterday, but I haven't had the opportunity to get to the capitol yet. Thursday, I think, and it can't get here soon enough. Unless the State of the State goes South for us tomorrow night; then maybe it can. Fingers crossed.

5. State of the State tomorrow night! Of course a drinking game is in order. Take a shot every time....he's interrupted with applause? References cutting an existing state agency? Mentions Rick Perry? Talks about God? The options are limitless.

6. I'm thinking about running five half marathons this Spring...anyone want to join me??

7. I'm also thinking about growing my hair out, though, so I make no promises on following through with any of this.

8. Have you seen this? Classic.

9. Lastly, Wrigs got a haircut today, so it was a pretty great day for her, too.

Better with age.

2012-01-05T19:46:00.000-08:00

Happy birthday, you crazy old man! Eleven years sure went by quickly!

(Yes, my camera sure did catch a glob of frosting-laced drool falling from his mouth. Gross...and amazing.)

The Air Capital.

2012-01-04T12:27:00.000-08:00

Today is a dark day for my (not so little) hometown of Wichita. Today marks the culmination of rumors, speculation, and what I’m certain was a fair amount of unsuccessful political wrangling. Today, Boeing, the epicenter of Wichita’s labor market, announced that despite our Congressional delegation’s near-constant efforts to not only keep them in Kansas, but garner additional federal defense contracts, that they were walking away from us at the end of 2013, leaving the more than 2,100 people currently employed there out to dry.

Boeing, my friend, can go f itself.

For the entirety of my life, Boeing has been almost a silent player – the place my grandfather retired from after 35 years on the job, the place that laid my uncle off, the place of strikes, and pickets, and the place that could seemingly control the fate of an entire city.

But also the place that my grandparents met, more than 50 years ago. The place they fell in love.

My heart is heavy when I think of my friends, family, former classmates and neighbors who will be directly impacted by this decision. I know the feelings of job loss all too well these days, and I don’t wish that on anyone.

That being said – I’m glad to see them go; glad to know that our city will no longer live or die by the will of the insatiable beast.

The task that lies ahead for city’s leaders is a big one – replace a behemoth – and I hope they’re up to it.

To Caucus We Will Go...

2012-01-03T07:04:00.000-08:00

Folks, today is the day I’ve been anxiously awaiting for months. Forget Christmas or New Years, in my world it’s all about this spirited game we call presidential politics – and today is like the first real hit of crack for a junkie like me.

The Iowa Caucus.

I recognize that this means nothing to many of you – maybe most of you? But for all of us who can’t get enough of the coverage, the interviews, the ads; this is when the fun really begins. I have a friend who recently moved to Iowa, and I am all but dying of jealousy for what today will be like for her.

Fun fact – my dad is actually from Des Moines, so I feel a little cheated that I don’t get to drive up and claim half a vote or something. It’s almost my birthright, people!

In any event, because I’m all about wishful thinking for my political dreamboat Mitt Romney, I’m hoping he’ll pull off the win, but knowing that they tend to do absolutely re-donk-ulously crazy things like pick Mike Huckabee, I’m going to go out on a limb and call the top three:

1. Rick Santorum (which will be further proof that the far right would rather pick crazy than someone who could actually win)

2. Mitt Romney (hearts and sighs)

3. Ron Paul (He’s a whole lotta crazy, but I guess that plays well there – and he’s a libertarian, which I kind of secretly like)

Here’s hoping I’m wrong and Mitt takes the whole damn thing…and here’s hoping that big ol’ pot of baggage Newt isn’t around much longer. And take Michelle with you!

In my super perfect world, by next weekend’s debate, it would be all kinds of fantastic if the only candidates on stage were Romney, Gingrich, and Perry (I say with a VERY heavy heart, because next to Mitt, I love me some Huntsman, but I think he’s too cool and fabulous for the party right now. What is my deal with Mormons??), but I don’t think we’ll be that lucky. Insanity (which I define largely surrounding the Tea Party folks) seems to reign these days .

At least it’s not Sarah Palin. Shudder.

Happy Caucus Day!!

My Minifesto.

2011-12-31T09:08:00.000-08:00

I've been working on a way to adequately describe the months and months of silence here on this little blog, and as luck would have it, last week someone described a project I'd been working on as my "minifesto" (Yes, it was quite a Jerry McGuire moment - with a completely different outcome, thankfully!). The phrase stuck with me, and I thought it would be the perfect way to describe this post.

On we go.

When I left the blog back in early October, it wasn't really for any major reason other than I was getting ready to start the new gig, and I was swamped with everything I needed to get done, meetings I needed to attend, blah, blah, blah. A few weeks of empty blog later, when I'd see friends, and even casual acquaintances, they would often mention the blog - which was incredibly flattering, and also a little scary! Wait a minute...people are actually reading this thing? That realization got in my head a little, and I had a momentary panic about going back into the political world with so much of my life "out there", if you will. Because it's who I am, I of course started to over think everything and had a few weeks where I genuinely had decided to shut down the blog, but couldn't quite bring myself to it. It's been such a fun way to chat with everyone, and frankly, vent a little about what a wild ride the last few years have been.

This period lasted longer than I'd planned it would. I kept thinking I should end it, but I'm terribly at break-ups, so I'd log on to blogger, read about the awesome things happening in everyone else's life, and then chicken out.

The turning point for me was about a week ago. I don't think it was any major Oprah light bulb moment or anything super dramatic like that, but rather an acknowledgement that if I shut down my blog simply because I was afraid someone in my professional world might stumble upon it and object, then the whackos who have been trying to push me out of my own damn party for years would win. And that, my friends, would be like letting the terrorists win. :)

At the end of the day, the thoughts and opinions I share on this blog are no different than those I would share with any of you in person (and already have, in many cases). And frankly, if you hate me because I make a blog post expressing my feelings about Taylor Swift, or Michelle Bachmann for that matter, we're never going to see eye-to-eye, anyway. And you don't sound very fun. So there. This is who I am - I overuse foul language, make sweeping exaggerations, and share my opinions with anyone who will listen. I've never toned it down in real life, so I have no idea why I would want to do that on my blog.

So, with that long-winded explanation, Grey House is back. Unfiltered opinions and all. I would apologize to anyone I've offended, but again, if you're offended, it's probably not purposeful...unless it is (yes, I'm looking at you, old boss who has no business reading my blog, anyway!).

Ghost of Blogging Past.

2011-12-22T11:25:00.000-08:00

I thought it would take something major to push me back over the hump to restart this little blog, and as I was driving back from lunch with a dear friend, it hit me. Or rather, it assaulted my ears.

Taylor Swift (I believe everyone knows my feelings re: the mouse queen) has taken one of the things I hold most dear about the holidays - Last Christmas (originally by Wham!, of course) - and hacked it up almost as badly as the hair stylist who told her frizzy was the new straight. She should be convicted of first degree murder for what she did to this song.

Mercifully, there is no video, but rest assured, every time someone listens to this song, Santa kills a puppy.

And with that, Grey House is back.

Wednesday Confession - In Memory.

2011-10-05T19:43:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to post about all that's happening this last week before I start the new gig, but life has gotten away from me (there are multiple to-do lists happening on multiple notecards). Today, I was thinking about posting something silly for a quick Wednesday confession, but as I checked my Twitter feed and learned of the passing of Steve Jobs, I felt moved to spend this time honoring him.

There are already many articulate and moving tributes to him, and I'm certain there will be many more in the days to come, so I'll simply leave it with on of my favorite quotes:

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Back to life, back to reality.

2011-09-29T13:01:00.000-07:00

Today has been an epically good day, friends. Today is the day that confirmed that I absolutely, without a doubt, made the right decision back in July to leave the awful job that killed my soul.

Today, I got the job offer I've been waiting (and hoping) for for more than two months. The job that I knew would be completely perfect for me, and much more of what I should be doing with my life.

And with that, I'm back in politics. But not in the "running for election, never have any certainty" kind of way. More of an external and governmental relations for a state agency sort of way. And I couldn't be happier.

In the past, I've always fretted over making career decisions, certain I'd regret whatever choice I'd made. Knowing that something "better" would come along. That fear kept me in jobs that were less than ideal for a long time. It kept me at a place that I knew I would be forced to leave (in a most awkward way), because I was afraid of stepping out into the unknown without a safety net.

To be honest, it's also the reason I took the most recent position - because it had been four months and I was terrified (this girl still has a mortgage to pay, after all). It was never a job I loved, because it wasn't where my heart would ever be. The fact that it was run by a see you next Tuesday only exacerbated the already bad situation.

Today, I'm thankful for losing my job last summer, because it taught me not to worry - that there will always be a job. That there is a plan that is bigger than I am. That there's more to life than my nine to five (something I'm still working on). And most importantly, that if you're miserable, make a change. It made recognizing that I needed to leave the nonprofit - and actually leaving - so much easier. That day, and every day since, I've had no regrets.

Today is the result of all of those leaps (and bumps). Either that, or I'm a kick-ass interviewee. :)

Either way, today is an epically good day.

Wednesday Confessions.

2011-09-28T12:56:00.000-07:00

Last summer, I had a goal of getting all of my vast collection of pop CDs downloaded and transferred to my iTunes account, so I could once and for all be rid of all of them (such clutter!).

Well, I was probably 50 CDs in, when one got stuck in the drive on my beloved Powerbook. I of course Googled the problem, and found out that it's relatively common, and that I should take it to the Apple store for help. Simple enough.

The problem? The CD that was stuck was a Rob Thomas solo CD, and not even a good one at that (is there one?), and I couldn't bring myself to admitting that to the too-cool-for-school kids who work at the Apple store. Why couldn't it have been the Regina Spektor CD?! Or Adele! Why?!

Flash forward to today - my CD is still stuck. A constant reminder of 1.) The reason Matchbox 20 should not have broken up, 2.) Why I should be more choosy about the music I buy, and 3.) My total social awkwardness around hipsters.

Three Years.

2011-09-27T12:08:00.000-07:00

Today is a big day at the Grey House - it's our third wedding anniversary!

But, because Mr. Grey House doesn't really read the ol' blog anymore (SHAME!), rather than posting a picture of the two of us on our wedding day, I'm posting one of my favorite photos from the ladies on that fabulous day. So there. Ha.

The robot will never get old. Ever.

Thanks again to everyonewho helped make our big day a special one - we love you all!

And of course, happy anniversary, husband Meyer (Just in case)! :)

Wednesday Confession.

2011-09-21T14:22:00.000-07:00

When I run errands during the normal "work day", I often wear office-appropriate attire, because I feel like I'm being judged if I roll into the Hen House in the clothes I've been lounging around the house in all day (read: yoga pants and old political t-shirts) when I should be out making the medium bucks. For much of the same reason, I rarely leave the house during the day - when my neighbors might see me and wonder what I'm doing at home all of the time. It is QUITE the life, let me tell you. I've become West Shawnee's Boo Radley.

Needless to say, this chicka is ready to get back to the grind.

The Emmys are such a tease.

2011-09-19T12:49:00.000-07:00

An evening of beautiful dresses, celebrity gossip, and television awards amidst the sea of NFL games? Emmys, you are a dream come true.

Unfortunately, now I'm in the mood to watch all awards show coverage, all of the time, and that makes me a little sad.

Things that did not make me sad:

-Oh, Jane Lynch. I've loved her pre-Glee (Best in Show for best movie ever? Yes, please.), and I think she did a fantastic job hosting.

-Modern Family kicked some serious ass. As they should. I was a little disturbed by something that popped up on my Twitter feed after Julie Bowen won, though; along the lines of "She's an example of everything I don't want to be in a wife and a mother", which reminded me that I needed to do some purging of my Twitter feed. Seriously? What do you watch, Big Bang Theory? (Someone, anyone, explain the appeal of that show to me. Even Blossom can't save it for me.) The sad part is that it was from someone I actually know - never would've pegged that one. Bummer.

-The Office skit was killer.

-The best comedy actress beauty pageant. Again, though, is that show funny? When she won, for a moment I thought it was for Gilmore Girls. Of course.

-The dresses. My two favorites:

Kate Winslet can do no wrong in my eyes, even if she gave off a bit of that "I'm too good for TV" vibe. Love her.

Cat Deeley. I hate to admit that I have no idea who she is, but she's British and it's a great dress, so I'm all for it.

My (and many others) WTF moment:

Seriously, this reminds me of dresses that were worn at my high school prom - in 1999 (If anyone at South High could afford Pucci). Does anyone remember those two piece formal dresses? I feel like all she needed was one of those belly chains. Ugh. Chris Martin is at least partially at fault for letting her walk out the door in this tragedy.

Looks can be deceiving.

2011-09-18T12:23:00.000-07:00

What I want this to be a photo of: "Mom! I'm so, so happy that you took us on a long walk on the trails today - and it was awesome getting caught in the rain! You're the best, EVER!!!"

What this is actually a photo of (which I realized after, of course): "Guess what, mom? I just peed on the quilt in the guest bedroom that is dry clean only!! Hooray for me!!"

Pronto Pups, livestock, and adults in cartoon character t-shirts - the Kansas State Fair Edition.

2011-09-16T13:17:00.000-07:00

Everyone is going to be jealous of this post, let me tell you. Because this post is all about one of my favorite (in the tackiest way possible) things - the Kansas State Fair.

It is absolutely everything a state fair should be, and so much more.

Back when I was a working stiff, I used to have the privilege of working a booth at the fair for the office every year, which was fantastic, because it meant I had an excuse to gorge on fried foods, pet cows, and experience perhaps the greatest people watching you'll ever see.

Now that I don't get to go there on the government's dime, I have to beg my city folk friends to go with me. Mr. Grey House flatly refuses (Did they teach you to hate the state fair at BVNW? Victoria?), but this year, my friend Abby was down for the fun, had never been before, and was free for a mid-week excursion...perfection.

There were sheep shearing demonstrations, rabbits for sale for $11, deep-fat-fried everything on a stick, auctioneering competitions, and this little gem:

Yes, pig races. Pig races!! Do you hear that, Bryan? You missed this. I don't know how you can live with yourself, really.

There were also plenty of these (Pronto Pups, for those unfortunate souls who've never experienced their greatness):

Of course, we had to end the day at the Kansas beer garden, sipping Free State and chatting with strangers about our other food find - red velvet funnel cakes. Okay, this sounds delightful, but trust me, it is not. Taste aside, we had many, MANY people stop at our table to comment on what it looks like:

Time for a vote: animal intestines or part of a human heart?

Most exciting of all re: the beer garden is that we ran into my very good friend Damian's (Hi, D! We missed you!) grandmother, who is kind of a state fair VIP; minus the kind of. She has her own golf cart! Legit. I wish I'd remembered to snap a photo. A grandma who frequents the beer tent is my kind of lady.

What else can you see at the Kansas State Fair?

Bunnies:

Roosters (Does this remind anyone else of kitchen decorations?):

And cows. So many glorious cows.

Happy State Fair!

Laboring Day.

2011-09-08T13:37:00.001-07:00

I wish I could say that the Grey House spent their Labor Day doing something incredibly fun like going to the lake, drinking with friends, or watching David Beckham take on Sporting KC (So jealous, btw). Rather, our long weekend was mainly consumed with working on projects around the ol' casa. I know, you're totally jealous. I don't blame you.

One of my biggest projects was to bid farewell to our little garden, and harvest everything that was still hanging on (which, at this point, wasn't much). Our three tomato plants have been making the slow walk to death for about a week now - I blame at least three praying mantis' I found while cleaning it out. Side note - is there a plural for mantis? Mantii? Side side note - gross. They are the scariest looking bugs ever. I think they were plotting to take me out next.

Our cucumbers, who were definitely the rock stars of the crew, had also stopped really being productive (Maybe that's a theme around here these days?).

The most exciting produce left? Our adorable carrots!

Seriously, there were like ten, and they were all pretty small, but the PRIDE we feel for those little babies! Can someone say delicious homemade carrot ginger soup?

The least exciting part (that should have been the most exciting)? Harvesting our approximate 451 basil plants. Let me tell you friends, pulling tiny leaves off of these plants for hours, while fighting every kind of bug on the planet (are you getting the message that I'm not a fan?) is no bueno. There are so many damn leaves. So many.

Fortunately for us, they became a ridiculous amount of tasty pesto. I think it's safe to say that we have enough to feed a large army (read: the hungry, basil crazy bears at the Grey House) through the winter.

And with that, the summer gardening season in over for us. Our garden is tilled, and the bugs are off to kill someone else's plants. It's been a good run, and I think we'll probably repeat the feat next year, with a few modifications (and hopefully weather that will keep our water bill at a more reasonable level!).

It was a lot more work than I expected (both in planting and maintaining), but well worth it. Complemented by our CSA, I don't think we bought many veggies at the grocery store at all this summer - which I think is kind of awesome.

As you might expect, the dogs were a huge help.

Wednesday Confession: Before and After.

2011-09-07T11:36:00.001-07:00

Today's confession is a bit of a follow-up to last week's SUPER interesting post. And you thought I couldn't write paragraphs and paragraphs about my hair; how silly of you.

Because a few of you have asked, and because I love putting incredibly unattractive photos of myself out on the interwebs, I'm going to indulge and give you a before and after comparison (sort of).

Before (Seriously, friends, I had actually attempted to straighten my hair before taking this photo. So disgusting.):

And, mercifully, after:

I know, I know, it's not the full shot. Maybe you'll have to just come see me in person! I've got a lot of free time these days (Exhibit A: This Post).

Also, not to disappoint those who came to this blog looking for an actual confession today, I'll leave you with this: Yesterday morning during my run I was passing some in-progress construction work - full of workers, of course - and I thought I'd look very cool zipping past them and around all of the sidewalk that they'd torn up (I'm obviously too cool for detours), and....I tripped. And fell into the street. I'm smooth like butta, I'm telling you.

Feels Like Home.

2011-09-02T15:09:00.000-07:00

Let me just go ahead and say that in a few weeks, (months, years) when I'm once again gainfully employed (emphasis on weeks, please!), I'm really going to miss the ability to take a quick, during-the-week, surprise-the-family trip down to Wichita. Such goodness.

This was the first trip home in several years that I've taken without Mr. Grey House, so I got to do all sorts of awesome things - like take up the entire full size guest bed (seriously, two people, one of whom is 6'3", should not be confined to a full), and stay up late playing pitch and eating ice cream with my grandma.

My trip had two main goals, both of which were accomplished in grand fashion:

1. Spend Monday working on my uncle's cabin (more on that in a moment)

2. Best friend reunion!!

First, the story on the manual labor. When my grandparents retired back in the early nineties - doesn't that seem so long ago? - they bought 40 acres of land along a lake in Northern Oklahoma (near where my grandmother grew up), and built a lovely log cabin (if you've been reading this blog for a while you'll know this as the place I occasionally go to get my clay-shooting on). To be clear - they built the cabin with their own two (four?) hands. I would say I can't imagine, but I remember many summer days spent helping out - as much as a pre-teen can, that is. There was a lot of angst involved, I'm certain.

Well, this summer my uncle thought he would carry on the tradition, and as I enjoy a little bit of manual labor (hello, awesome workout!) while working on my tan, I thought I'd join in. Bryan and I pitched in a month or so ago, and I wanted another chance to help (read: reinforce my bad ass-ness). So, I spent Monday working on putting up rafters for a roof (like I said, don't I sound bad ass??) with my uncle and grandpa. They are both hysterical, and truth be told, I had a lot of fun.

See this? Pretty much all me.

Mission One: Accomplished.

Mission two sort of came about after one too many drinks at Harry's Country Club in River Market...and I realized Monday evening would be the perfect opportunity to see one of my dearest friends from high school. Luckily, he doesn't mind a 12:30 a.m. drunk text.

Seriously, bloggy readers - it was so absolutely fantastic.

A little bit of history, for those of you not familiar with my high school days. There was a boy. A wonderful boy who took me to every dance, joined me in shenanigans most every Friday and Saturday (when I wasn't with Katie getting thrown out of hotel parties), and just generally made me smile. Oh, high school love.

The thing that makes our story a little more unique is this. After spending four years nearly inseparable, we went off to separate colleges, and started dating other people. And then, at the beginning of our sophomore year, he came out. Of course, I was the last one to know. Ha. My mom was devastated that it meant we weren't going to get married. Double ha (I think it's safe to say that ten years later she's fully recovered.).

In any event, I haven't had the opportunity to spend any real time with just Jayson in years and years (darn boyfriends - on both sides - always getting in the way), so I had my party pants on and was ready to take on the town, just like old times. And we did.

There is something so wonderfully simple and comforting about this kind of friendship. Even though it had been years, we immediately felt at home. We spent the night giggling and laughing and talking about life. And taking a few super up close iPhone photos.

I love this boy so very much.

And just like I had in high school, I snuck in well-past curfew (3:30 a.m., to be precise), and spent the next morning being lectured by my mom while eating fast food. Spectacular.

The only minor hiccup of the evening came at our final stop - a gay karaoke bar with a name that escapes me (if you read the blog, you'll remember I also heart gay karaoke bars). Somehow, it came up that I was a Republican, and I was practically stoned. And I retaliated. Call me a bitch all you want, but don't ever say I don't love my gays! I love them so much, I'm pretty sure I should get to be an honorary gay man - that's cool, right?

No, not appropriate? Damn it.

Wednesday Confession.

2011-08-31T15:01:00.001-07:00

I want to tell you all about my fantastic trip home, but I'm such a rule follower that I feel like I should give you a confession (Don't worry - I'll post about the trip tomorrow. Not that anyone is worried - or that interested!). So here goes.

If you know me, this is a deep, dark confession. And one I'm only going to give you because I'm going to fix it tomorrow, when all will be right with the world.

Here's the back story (several of you are aware of this/it involves you!). I have the most fabulous hair guy in the world. Period. End of story. Our relationship is something like seven years strong, and it is seriously one of my favorite things ever to get to chat and gossip with him every eight weeks.

Fast forward to this spring/summer, when both of our schedules got completely crazy and uncomplimentary and I was forced to cancel the appointment I should have had at the beginning of July. I thought I would be fine, because again due to scheduling problems my previous appointment was the end of May. In any event, this was a terrible mistake on my part and it means that I HAVE NOT HAD MY HAIR CUT OR COLORED SINCE MAY! Everyone at the Grey House is unhappy about this (I should say that I was given the option of seeing someone else at the salon - all of whom are fantastic - but I will not commit hair adultery, thank you very much.).

So, three or so weeks ago, I was in an absolute panic about the amount of grey hair that was quickly taking over (we only like grey houses, not hair, friends), and after a few (several) glasses of wine, I thought it would be a FANTASTIC idea to buy one of those at-home box colors, just to cover the grey/re-growth until I could see Scott. I told Bryan - and his response was an emphatic "That is a terrible idea. No. Don't do it. Please don't do it. I don't want to see angry crazy Stephanie when this plan goes horribly awry." You get the idea. His argument (let's face it, it was fear of how I would react if it went South) was starting to make sense until he said "The grey doesn't look that bad." WTF - husband Meyer?

I immediately went to CVS and made a poor choice. Two hours later my grey hairs were indeed covered, but I'd missed big chunks of my highlights, and kind of looked like a character from Winter's Bone (my scraggly, need to be cut ends don't help the look). Pretty hot. Thank God it wasn't permanent. Several things:

1. Do not color your own hair, Stephanie. That is nonsense.

2. If you do (which you will not again), do not do it when you're half drunk and distracted by the Gorga-Guidice family feud on Real Housewives.

3. I need to start booking my appointments further out, so I won't have to worry about this.

4. Thank you baby Jesus for Scott, who I am beyond excited to see tomorrow (YAY).

5. Occasionally, and it doesn't happen often, Bryan is right. Damn it.

Saturday Brain Dump.

2011-08-27T15:33:00.000-07:00

It has been quite a week, friends. Nothing too monumental, but there are a lot of little things happening in my world. Things like:

-Not to be overly Pollyanna right out of the gate, but it seems that every day I'm given confirmation that I made the right decision about the job. Lots of positive progress on that front and hopefully more in the coming weeks. This girl is bored and ready to get back to where she belongs (politics, of course).

-Tomorrow I'm going down to Wichita on my own for the first time in at least a few years. Craziness! I'm excited to spend a little downtime at home (If you're in the Air Capital, feel free to hit me up for drinks!) while I have the chance.

-This Thursday, I have a much-anticipated appointment of my favorite variety - hair. Because of some scheduling problems, I had to cancel my last appointment, so it's been a full 13 (yes, 13!!) weeks since I've seen my darling Scott. My hair is the literal definition of hot mess. I cannot wait to cut it all off (read: Why the hell do I always think growing my hair out in the summer is a good idea?). And spend a few hours gossiping, of course.

-Today has been a stellar Saturday. It began with brunch with the girls at Room 39, and is going to end with dinner at the Farmhouse in River Market (so excited to finally check this place out!) with new friends. My tummy is very pleased. My thighs are not (but really, when are they?).

-Speaking of thighs, I've had the best running week! Lots 'o running, and lots 'o long (for my out of shape booty) runs. I think I finally have an excuse to start buying Gu Chomps again (read: eating candy while working out.).

-Is everyone is the world pregnant right now? It sure seems that way.

-I've spent most of the week thinking about how great it would be to move back to Lawrence. Crazy, or crazy awesome?

-Wyatt has still not forgiven me for throwing a party for Wrigley.

Happy weekend, everyone!

Wednesday Confession: Gym Edition.

2011-08-24T09:11:00.000-07:00

Unemployment Perk #472: I get to go to the gym much, much more often. Having the time to run again on a regular basis makes for a happy Stephanie.

However, like many people, I hate the gym. For a myriad of reasons, none of which are related to actually working out (which in a sick twist of fate I usually enjoy...and thank God for that, or the wine and cheese addiction would be seriously catching up with me).

What I hate about the gym, friends, is the complete lack of social norms and etiquette.

-No, I don't want to talk to you while I'm running (and you are walking). My headphones weren't a clue?

-No, you aren't actually using that piece of equipment; what you're actually doing is using it as a front row seat to watch the backsides of the girls running on the treadmills, perv.

-Don't worry about cleaning all of your sweat off of that, there's nothing I'd like more than to sit in a pool of your back fat juice.

-Girl in full make-up playing on your iPhone on the last elliptical; who the hell do you think you're kidding? Tweet that you're working on your fitness from your couch, you'll burn the same amount of calories.

-Why are you scream/grunting? Please stop. Immediately.

***Disclaimer: Three or more of these irritants may have occurred during this morning's visit.***

Happy Birthday.

2011-08-23T13:00:00.000-07:00

Today is our little Wrigley's first birthday. One year ago today, she was born in a small puppy mill outside of Manhattan (that was thankfully recently shut down). Ten weeks later, she arrived at my office - and when a member of the state animal health department opened her kennel door, she immediately ran under my desk. I was hooked (don't tell Bryan).

This was my very first look at the dog that we weren't looking for. The dog that would ruin our carpet, crowd our bed, and make red dog's life a little more challenging.

She seems so sweet, doesn't she?

I apologize for the photo quality; I thought if I only took photos on my phone and not my camera I would be less tempted to keep her. Of course we know how that worked out.

Seriously, how can you look at this photo and not want to keep her? She's the size of a tennis ball!!

Of course, the past ten months have been challenging for everyone in the Grey House (puppies are HARD!), but I can't imagine our little familia without her. She's so different than Wyatt, and her little personality is hysterical.

She'll sleep anywhere. Mostly upside down.

She has no fear - and knows no stranger.

She is just so much more mellow than red dog...which has been very nice.

Wyatt has never been a cuddler, and Wrigley is perfectly content to sleep on your lap all day. Well, partially on your lap - she's a whopping 35 pounds now (ten more than Wyatt). Not quite the little puppy I brought home on the premise that we'd only foster her for a few weeks.

Ha - riiiiight.

So, happy birthday Wrigley. You're without a doubt the best thing to come out of that awful job!

They Grow Up So Fast.

2011-08-22T16:07:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow marks an important occasion here at the Grey House. Our youngest furbaby, Wrigley, will turn one. It's insane to me that it's already that time (mainly because she still mostly acts like she's ten weeks old).

To celebrate her big day, we did what any other rational, totally sane people would do - we threw her a party. A family doggy party, to be exact. For a few hours yesterday afternoon, our house was filled with the sounds of family...and seven very excited dogs (Yes, seven dogs. In our house. I know what you're thinking, but thanks to Wrigley we own stock in stain remover.).

To fill in a few of the details before I overwhelm you with cuteness, it was a very low-key party (we aren't THAT crazy, after all) - hot dogs, burgers, and pasta salad for the adults, and party favor treat bags for the four-legged guests. Of course, it wouldn't be a Grey House function without a little hooch, and I think that helped calm the nerves of at least one host (Read: Mr. Grey House was very skeptical of bringing so many dogs into our house. I don't know why................).

Thanks to the kind girls at Land of Paws for helping me put these together, and looking the other way when I took a few extra bags for help divide the treats. And for not judging, of course. The same could not be said about the woman at Party City, who looked at me like I was an escaped mental patient when I told her the paper plates were for our dog's birthday. Can't say that I totally blame her.

Thanks to my husband for not eating all of these the night before the big day.

And thanks to all of my very, very sweet in-laws for totally going along with my shenanigans - and they even brought gifts! God bless them.

Yes, I had a party for my dog. And yes, it was fabulous.

Play Date.

2011-08-18T15:01:00.000-07:00

Another fantastic perk of unemployment is the opportunity to spend a lot more time with my friends - particularly those with little ones who I don't see that often. Last week, I made the trek over to Topeka to see one of these friends, of the darling Vincent Family blog, and spend some time with her and her adorable kiddos - Paisley and Ryder.

After the lunch of champions, Red Robin, we went back to Sarah's casa for perhaps the biggest craft project I've undertaken in many, many years - building a playhouse for the kids out of a large appliance box. Now, I know what you're thinking - we've all had these boxes. No, we have not. Sarah had planned to totally pimp out the house (Did I mention that she has an entire room dedicated to crafting?? I was in OCD heaven). Three hours and two adult beverages later, we had the best damn homemade playhouse I've ever seen, if I do say so myself. And I do. I was thinking about moving in.

This is a terrible photo, and does not do justice AT ALL to the hard work and creativity involved in the creation of this place. I mean, she cut curtains! Real curtains! And flowers! Rock star momma status, affirmed.

If this is what having children is all about, you may be counting me back in (read: NOT ANYTIME SOON).

Wednesday Confession - Daytime Television Edition

2011-08-17T11:20:00.001-07:00

I am TRULY shamed to admit this to all of you - one of my favorite things about funemployment, the sequel is that I can spend an hour every day with Hoda and Kathy Lee.

I know, I know. I would judge me, too.

"It's Willie Nelson, Y'alllllllll!"

2011-08-15T19:04:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend, we joined some of our favorite friends (to continue the no baby, no baby celebration) at Livestrong Stadium (the new home of Sporting KC) for the rowdy, hippie celebration commonly known as Farm Aid. It was a delightful time. And judging by many of our fellow attendees, the crops they were supporting were not of the legal variety.

In addition to listening to Willie Nelson and Co. while putting a hurtin' on the Bud Light, it was, most importantly, a totally appropriate opportunity to wear my raggedy, bought-at-the-state-fair cowboy hat! Mr. Grey House (read: Mr. People Shop at Places Other Than Brooks Brothers?) was not such a fan, but he is clearly out-of-the-loop on the greatness. How can you NOT be happy when you're wearing it?

Oddly enough, many of our other friends (and local politicians and reporters) must have also agreed on the awesomeness of Farm Aid, because it was kind of like a mini-reunion of sorts. Lots o' run-ins with fun friends.

Good thing I was rocking the hat.

Wednesday Confession - Scariest Week of My Life Edition.

2011-08-10T18:23:00.000-07:00

Okay, friends. Today's Wednesday Confession is a ridiculous tale, so settle in for a moment, won't you?

So, here's the deal that's not really a deal anymore: For about half a minute, the Grey House was contemplating adding a non-four-legged member to our family (Because when your job sucks and you have no idea what you should be doing with your life, it makes perfect sense to add a child to the mix, right? At least that's what Teen Mom taught me.). It was a sort of a spontaneous/I'm 30 and have to do adult things kind of decision. Whatevs.

So, a few weeks after we make this decision, I quit my job. The next day, my old reliable friend does not arrive in town, as scheduled. Nor does she arrive the next day. Or the next.

Cut to Stephanie in full 16-year-old freak out mode, because let me tell you, nothing says responsible human being like getting knocked up the same week you quit your job, and thereby forgo health insurance. This had "You can take the girl out of South Wichita, but you can't take the South Wichita out of the girl" written all over it.

In this freak out state, I called basically every insurer on the planet to get the low-down on what to do re: health insurance (which I needed to do anyway, as I was about to be dropped from the work plan), as well as asking the "Oh, and what if I decide to start a family?" question in the most non-casual-casual way possible. Note to all: It is impossible to carry individual health insurance that covers maternity care. You will not pass go, you will not collect $200.

To add to the chaos of this, I decided I should probably take a test. But because I really love tests in general, I thought buying approximately 14 tests was the order of the day. Lucky for me (and the 17-year-old male cashier), these 14 tests required a price check at the register. You just can't make that up.

14 tests and several anxiety attacks later, I am happy to report that there is no bun in the oven, and preventative measures (and heavy drinking) have resumed. Baby = canceled. Food babies are way more fun, anyway.

So, friends, the moral of the story: This is what you get for making spontaneous decisions! Type A over-planning will resume immediately, much to the relief of the red dog, who is threatening to pack his doggy bags and leave for good if this little familia gets any larger.

Wednesday Confession.

2011-08-03T14:49:00.001-07:00

I am FULL ON obsessed with Trader Joe's. Lucky for me, one of the two (two!) new stores here in Kansas City happens to be just down the street from the Junior League Headquarters...which just happens to be where I spend a lot of my time these days.

What a happy coincidence!

Seriously - thinking about making this year's sangria party a Trader Joe's catered event. $2.99 for a bottle of not-all-that-bad wine?? Amy's Organics for half of what they cost me at P Chop? Yes, please.

New York, the finale.

2011-08-02T13:51:00.000-07:00

This is the post regarding our second (and final) day in New York. Yes, this post is horribly overdue, but I little thing called I-Want-to-Tell-My-Boss-Where-to-Shove-it happened and everything got delayed. My apologies (to all but the Great Satan).

Once again, I have to say how much I loved this city. I don't know if it was the company, the sights, or that it was exactly what I needed at exactly the right moment, but I'm in love. For-evah.

We started day two on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum (where all of my days can officially start), people watching and waiting for my fabulous friend, Liz, who just happens to live in nearby New Jersey (minus the hair and penchant for table-flipping violence). Our plan was to get there early, so our wait to see the Alexander McQueen exhibit wouldn't be so terrible. Our plan = major success. And the exhibit = haunting, and oh so spectacular. I came very close to reaching out to touch several pairs of shoes and one model wedding gown (Kate Moss' dress, of course). Amaze.

Let me tell you, though, when we left the exhibit, the line appeared to be several hours long. Think about that. Yuck. One negative mark for NYC.

After trolling around the museum for a bit longer - and seeing the most expensive painting in the place (which looks like a tacky Mary and Joseph garage sale find), we made our way over to Central Park. Central Park! Central Park! (Yes, I was very excited.) It was just as I'd hoped it would be. Perfection.

The walk through the park led us to lunch, and then more strolling up and down Fifth Avenue. Along the way, we stopped in at the Top of the Rock to check out the view (after stalking the NBC studio, of course). LOVE.

What did I love even more? Sitting in Bryant Park. Bryant Park! As if that weren't enough, Liz took us over to the NYC Library, so I could take a photo where Carrie became the jilted bride, of course. Yes, that show has been over for years, and no, I'm not quite ready to let it go yet (even though SATC 2 did give me great pause). All I needed was a Real Houswives sighting and my television tour of New York would have been complete.

So, what is there to do after walking approximately 1,403 miles in one afternoon? Have cupcakes and cocktails, of course (Seriously, I have the most fun friends. Ever.)! I wish I had thought to take a photo of the adorable cupcake place, but my mind immediately went to chocolate. And that is all.

That evening, we met up with Liz's husband, Ben, for dinner and more drinks in Hell's Kitchen. Let me again just say that there is something about being with friends who've known you forever - and are in essentially the same life head space that you are - that is so, so comforting. Feeling lost seems so much more manageable after a few beers with equally as lost friends!

So, that was my view of New York City (I'll spare you the details of our super delayed flight the following day and all of the drinking/people watching/dinner with strangers stories, but trust me, they are pretty fun. Minus the Delta employees, anyway.). I have to say, all in all the perfect trip - great fun with great friends.

Liz, expect me to show up at your door with my bags packed in the near future! :)

Warm fuzzies and other weekend happenings.

2011-08-01T15:16:00.000-07:00

I meant to do another blog post this weekend, to sort of begin to bury my angry diatribe from last week, but just never got around to it. Instead, I spent the last few days laughing with friends, day drinking, playing trivia, wedding celebrating, and just sort of letting this new place in my life soak in. It was mostly fabulous.

Honestly, I know it sounds insane for an unemployed, yet mortgaged person to be saying this, but I've never felt better about my career. (Well, perhaps I felt better when I was super fancy pants, doing super fancy pants things like flying on the private state plane, but probably not by much.) After eight or so years in the big, bad working world, I know what I love, and what I'd never, ever want to do again (development at an animal shelter, I'm looking at you), and that feels awesome.

Yes, I quit my job without a back-up plan. Yes, it was scary. But you know what was even more scary? Sunday nights. The night when I had nothing left to do but face but another miserable week at a place I never fit in at, and that never really got me. Leaving that feeling behind is worth whatever obstacles I face in the coming days, weeks, months (I hope not months!), while I look for a new job.

In a way, it almost feels like I've been given a second chance to get it right. Find the job I should have found last year at this time. If I've learned one thing from this unemployed-reemployed-unemployed madness, it's that there will always be another job, and it's not worth settling out of fear. I'm kind of a big deal, and my work should be, too, damn it.

**Special thanks to all of my incredible friends and family, who haven't judged my decision or given me grief/unsolicited career advice, but have instead been the most fantastic sounding board a girl could ask for - often times with beer! You guys rock my socks, and I love each and every one of you.**

A trip back to the Dirty South.

2011-07-24T16:46:00.000-07:00

We interrupt this fabulous New York City vacation recap for a weekend in the Air Capital of the World - Wichita, Kansas (read: back where I come from...).

The main purpose for the weekend was to celebrate the birthdays of two of my best gals, my mother and grandmother. As often happens when I make the trek home, it also became a weekend of playing cards, eating too much delicious home cooking, minor levels of hilarious drama...and on this occasion, a Saturday of manual labor and minor league baseball.

My uncle is following in my grandparents' footsteps and building a log cabin along a river just outside of Mulvane (aka: basically Wichita). When I say building a log cabin, I mean that - they didn't hire a construction crew, but rather, are actually putting it together with their own two hands. Sweet Jesus, that sounds like a lot of work - and it is. (Who just KNOWS how to build a house?) Everyone in the fam has been taking turns pitching in, and Saturday was our turn.

Let me tell you this - lifting large, very heavy logs in 108 degree heat for several hours will cause you to enter some sort of delusional state where it starts to be really, really fun...until it's not. I think that's about where heat stroke kicks in. Somehow, we survived - and I'm still feeling pretty kick ass about my contribution, thank you very much.

That evening, we went to a great Wichita tradition - minor league baseball at Lawrence-Dumont Stadium. If you haven't been - go immediately. Right now. People watching times a thousand, plus this little gem:

The Sonic Spinner?? I'm sorry, what? This photo will keep me giggling like a thirteen-year-old for days.

That, and the girl in the row ahead of us sporting the wife beater and jorts-so-short-you-could-see-the-pockets who insisted on screaming at her three very young children and mulleted boyfriend (baby daddy?) in front of the entire section. Keep it classy, Wichita.

Concrete Jungle.

2011-07-20T20:12:00.000-07:00

I wish I could completely capture in words the way I felt during my trip to New York City last weekend. The people, the food, the views...sigh. I'm in love.

I have to admit, going into the weekend I was excited, but I was also worried that I would completely hate it. So many people on such a small island! The crowds, the attitudes, the crime...it goes on and on (just ask my grandma). All of that is certainly true, but at the same time - it just feels so alive, so in the middle of it all.

When we arrived on Friday afternoon, we had a few hours before we needed to be at dinner (CRAFT!), so at the advice of the hotel concierge, we set off on foot for the High Line Park. This is unlike any park you'll ever see - it was built on an abandoned subway platform - and is definitely worth the walk.

Great people watching, and the juxtaposition of the flowers and the city is very cool. What I want to tell you about, however, is what happened on the way to High Line.

We were walking past an older apartment building, and were the only people on our side of the street, aside from a girl walking towards us. Suddenly, the girl, who is now probably five feet from us, jerks, stops, and looks down at her right arm. As she turns towards us, we realize that her arm is covered in blood, coming from what appears to be a fresh wound on her shoulder.

I promise you won't believe this, but she continues coming our way and says, completely calmly, "Watch out, ladies, I think there's someone shooting from up there." I'M SORRY?! Someone is shooting from up there, and you're telling me this as though you're asking me to empty the dishwasher?!

So, here we are, thirty minutes into our NYC adventure, and a girl has been SHOT in front of us. What do we do, you ask? Well...we took off. Running. No, we did not ask her if she needed help. No, we did not call the police - we ran. Without saying even a word to each other, Abby and I take off like the think-for-yourselfers we apparently are. Please note: do not get shot in front of me, because I choose flight over fight. Or rescue, I suppose.

After recovering from our complete fail re: humanity, we returned to the hotel to prepare for our dinner date with Tom Colicchio. Sadly, he wasn't there, but I have to say - hands down - one of the best dining experiences I've ever had. The service was absolutely flawless, the drinks perfectly mixed, and the food - forget about it. SHUT IT DOWN. Best of all, it was served family-style, so we had plenty to enjoy. And as we were leaving - homemade Craft granola to go, of course. I could kiss Tom, I love his restaurant so much.

Following dinner, we hit the main event - Broadway. Specifically, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, starring Daniel Radcliffe (aka - Harry Potter). The show was fine, our seats were great, and being at an actual Broadway show was pretty near overwhelming for me. I'd be lying if I didn't admit to a few Rachel Berry-esque thoughts about jumping on-stage.

The real news, however - Harry Potter is a tiny man! Tiny. Aside from being my height (read: short), I thought he was aging well, which creeped me out, because he's Harry Potter. Which I'm already creeped out by, because a few years ago I sure did Google the shots from Equus. You know you did it, too.

After the show, we made our way through the throng of tweens waiting for his autograph outside the theatre and hoofed it down to Times Square, which may be one of the gateways to hell. Or perhaps it's what hell is actually like. So many people. All the time. And so many lights. It's like having a seizure, surrounded by Asian tourists and guys selling fake watches. Oh my.

Day one in New York: Absolute Success.

Wednesday Confession.

2011-07-20T05:17:00.001-07:00

I'm in love.

Wednesday Confession

2011-07-13T19:15:00.000-07:00

In less than 48 hours, I'll be in New York City for the very first time.

I'm planning to meet up with Cher and perform a little burlesque, obvi.

(Seriously, could I be a bigger cliche? Kansas girl goes to the big city!)

I'm too old for this kind of fun.

2011-07-10T19:04:00.000-07:00

This weekend was one for the books (Read: a strong reminder of how recovering from a day of drinking is drastically different when you're thirty and your normal bed time is somewhere around 10:00 p.m.).

I am EXHAUSTED, friends. Like trying to make sense of Taylor Swift's appeal exhausted.

I have to say, though, totally worth it. I got to spend my Saturday with some of my favorite peeps, doing nothing but catching up, laughing, comparing reality television notes, and well, drinking. Of course. It's been such an incredibly stressful month at work, and this was exactly what my soul needed. That, and maybe some frozen custard (the recovery meal of champions).

Makes my heart smile. Well, aside from the "your husband is swinging from the rails on the back of the bus" part.

Wednesday Confession

2011-07-06T18:59:00.000-07:00

Today was a success for me because I didn't actually cry at the office out of frustration, exhaustion, etc.

Today was a success for Wrigley because she discovered the vent.

Scenes from a long weekend.

2011-07-04T19:55:00.000-07:00

Nothing says Fourth of July fun like a weekend full of celebrating all that is great about Kansas City with out-of-town friends.

Friday night: Dinner at Pot Pie, followed by drinks at Manifesto. Seriously, I recognize that I'm a complete dork for being so obsessed with this speak-easy (read: underground bar), but I am fully obsessed. I really still don't feel hip enough to hang out there for long, but I think our friends enjoyed it as much as I did, so that's something.

Saturday: While the boys golfed, the girls enjoyed pedicures and then lunch at the Mixx. Again, you can't help but be impressed by our local restaurants. So good.

Saturday night: Okie Joe's to-go and Shakespeare in the Park. One of my favorite things about summer in KC.

Sunday: Our guests began the drive back to Garden City, and we hit the T-Bones game in a corporate suite, 'cause that's how we roll (read: That's how one of the attorneys Bryan does contract work with rolls).

So, here we are, the fourth of July. For the first time in something like seven or eight years, we had no plans (sadness, Mr. and Mrs. Small Town!). We spent the lazy day with a little Salty Iguana action, and really just leisurely cleaning up after the weekend. Not so exciting, but pretty relaxing, all in all.

Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday - cheers!

Go Cubs, Go.

2011-06-26T19:14:00.000-07:00

This weekend was the weekend I've been waiting on for months. Maybe years. For the first time since 2000, my beloved Cubbies came to Kansas City for a series with the Royals.

Of course, we were there for most of the weekend - and had such a great time. Friday night we enjoyed a Cubs win (well, I did, anyway) and fireworks with my brother and sister-in-law...and his epic old school Royals hat:

Epic. Not to mention the amazing spread of "Extreme Fries" KJ persuaded a stadium employee to bring our way. Yummy. Did I mention I have the best bro-in-law?

Saturday was tailgating and rowdiness with Erik and Ashley...and between the four of us, we always bring the fun.

Just ask the folks who had the pleasure of sitting near us. :)

Wednesday Confession

2011-06-22T19:51:00.000-07:00

When people use the word "synergy", it makes me want to drive to their home and tell their children that Santa isn't real.

Oh, Canada.

2011-06-21T19:49:00.000-07:00

At long last, the final vacation post (I know, I know - I like to think I'm reliving it by stretching it out by location, okay!?).

The last leg of Adventure: Pacific Northwest was an international one: Vancouver, Canada (read: one of the most beautiful cities on the planet). Oh my gosh, it is hard to describe how picturesque this place is - like stepping into a travel magazine. The mountains, the sea, the trees...sigh.

When we got into town, we did a little neighborhood sightseeing - and stumbled upon dozens of massive block parties...did I mention we were there for game one of the Stanley Cup finals? It was like a scene from every bad sports movie: crowds of people gathered around televisions in bars, restaurants, grocery stores, street corners. The city came to a stop. It was really fun to be a small part of it that night (watching safely from a bar next door to the hotel).

Pre-hockey game, we spent the afternoon at Stanley Park, a gorgeous 1000-acre quasi-island just outside of downtown Vancouver. Amazing doesn't even begin to describe it. This park, and the views from it's bike trails and running paths, are worth the trip to Canada alone. Not to mention the aquarium, tennis courts, cricket field, and yacht club also on site. So cool!

The following day, we went up to Grouse Mountain (home of much of the 2010 Olympic Games) planning to do some hiking. Our first sign that Canadian hikers are more hardcore than Americans? The sign that read "Danger: rabid animals found on and near trail." Mind you, this is an OPEN trail. Not to be deterred, we continued to the base of the hill, where there was another sign:"Danger: do not feed the wolves." Hmmm. This was all fine and well - until we hit the sign (seriously, this was all within about 100 yards) that was a pictorial explanation of what to do if you see a black bear. And, we're done. Score: Grouse Mountain: 1, Meyers: 0.

We'd planned to follow our hike up with a trip across the world's longest footpath suspension bridge, but it was rainy...and let's be real, that's a long walk across a ravine on a swinging wooden bridge. Yes, we chickened out. Instead, we hit a local brewery. A win, I think - and good preparation for the long wait for our red eye return flight.

All in all, quite a successful trip (unless you ask my liver).

Favorite city: Portland, hands down. Go there, immediately.

Favorite views: Vancouver (Stanley Park, of course).

Favorite beer: Deschutes in Portland. Note to all: they're doing a collaborative beer with Boulevard this is being released next month. BUY IT.

Favorite meal: Birthday dinner at Nostrana. Though, the pad thai at Thai Tom's in Seattle put up a valiant fight for the prize.

Favorite people: Absolutely Portland. They are so, so unbelievable nice - and proud of their city. How could you not be?

Have I made it clear enough that I think you all should visit Portland?

My Big Fat Gay Karaoke Party.

2011-06-20T20:04:00.000-07:00

The travel blog continues (just a few more, I promise) in Seattle. I have several friends who live (or have lived) here, so I was very much looking forward to checking it out.

We got into town in the early evening, so after hitting up the free hotel happy hour (Seriously, if you've never stayed at a Kimpton Hotel you, my friend, are missing out), we went out to dinner along the Bay. Halibut, crab cakes, local wine...rinse and repeat. I swear to God, I ate more fish on this trip than I did in the entire 30 years leading up to this week.

After, we cabbed it down to Freemont to check out the troll living under the bridge (No, I didn't take a picture. I was tipsy, I can't also be responsible for photography!) and have a few drinks. I think we were all a little sleepy from my impromptu rap concert the previous evening, so it was an early night.

The next day, however, was epic. As we were leaving the hotel for breakfast, I got a call back from one of my oldest friends (South High, baby!) who happens to live in town, asking if we wanted to meet up for drinks that evening. Of course we do. But more on that later.

We spent the rainy day doing all of the typical touristy things - going down to Pike's Market, shopping, eating the best Pad Thai I've ever had just off of campus, and a little day drinking amongst college students (we're still young!).

After, we met Christy and her girlfriend at an adorable little Asian fusion restaurant for many, many drinks and some awesome veggie Pho. Yummo. Another of Christy's friends came along and Bry had a delightful tea party pro v. con conversation with her (if you can imagine). This is near the point in the night when I realized that my husband is kind of a lesbian magnet. I love it so much.

Yes, I'm wearing the same dress I wore on my birthday - I'm a professional vacation luggage packer (read: I forgot to bring another dress).

After dinner, we hit up a...wait for it...gay karaoke bar. It was fabulous. Several gin and tonics later, this may have occurred:

I do a very mean Cher a la "If I Could Turn Back Time."

The night only got more interesting from there, and I learned a number of important life lessons:

-When you announce you're from Kansas to an entire bar, it doesn't matter where you are, you will always find a fellow Kansan. ALWAYS.

-Do not ever play air hockey with my husband (at a gay bar) after he's been drinking. Bodies will hit the floor (though, mainly just his).

-If you send a barrage of photos to your friends back in Kansas, it's polite to consider the time change...particularly when it's a Tuesday night. Sorry, Jayson! :)

-Taco pizza is not an appropriate way to end a night of drinking. Ever.

I Heard it Through the Grapevine.

2011-06-19T19:32:00.000-07:00

The next stop on Adventure: Pacific Northwest had the makings of perfection - Willamette Valley (read: Oregon Wine Country). Even better than spending the day sampling delicious Pinot Noir was that we somehow stumbled into one of the biggest weekends in the Valley. Wine lovers take note: visit over Memorial Day Weekend. Because the majority of the wineries are very small production, many are only open to the public over Memorial Day and Thanksgiving...so we were feeling pretty darn good about hitting the boozy jackpot.

Driving around the wineries, I kept thinking that this was probably what Napa Valley must have been like a few decades back. Charming, lots of character, not quite as commercial as the mainstream wine market in California (not that I have ANY negative thoughts about my happy place).

While we were there, we met so many wonderfully friendly winemakers - people truly passionate about what they do and the wine they make. So cool. The best part - one of our favorite wines of the day was made by a K-Stater (as all good things are)!

Overall, a fantastic day of tasting...that may or may not have ended with Mrs. Grey House shouting the lyrics of Gangsta's Paradise out of their Bed and Breakfast window. Cause that's how I roll.

Portlandia.

2011-06-16T18:44:00.000-07:00

At long last, a trip report (My apologies - we've been in the midst of a merger at work and I've barely had time for sleep, let alone blogging).

The first stop on Adventure Pacific Northwest was my favorite - Portland. In short, I'm in love. Pack my bags, I'm moving today kind of love. The people are fabulous. The beer is delicious. And the scenery? Forget about it - amazing.

We arrived in the early evening, so day one was a pretty low-key dinner at a fantastic local brewery, followed by even more drinks at an adorable little wine bar. Stretching out our livers in preparation for the long week, you could say.

Day two, also known as the day I entered my third decade of life, was perfection, so I'll go into more specifics.

The day began at Food Network regular VooDoo Doughnuts.

My poison of choice was this little gem:

Yes, that's a maple-glazed doughnut topped in bacon. Amen.

Overall, the place was fun to visit, but crazy packed (we waited for 45 minutes!).

After, we set off for perhaps my favorite activity of the trip - the 4T Trail. Because they're so hip in Portland, they've designed a fun route that takes you through all four modes of local transportation - a hike, a gondola ride, a trolley trip, and lastly, the underground train. Fun fun.

Let me say, the hike was breathtaking. So beautiful. But hard! When they say four and a half miles of moderate difficulty, the emphasis is on difficult! I think the boys weren't as thrilled as the girls.

The gondola was so, so cool. I swear, the Portland city planners do everything right! And the city is so clean!

On the trolley, we found the downtown Farmer's Market, which was packed with goodness:

It takes place on the campus of Portland State. And it is amazing - if you're into local produce, gorgeous flowers, and being unbearably hip (which of course we all are). Made for a great lunch (pre a quick stop at the Rogue tasting room downtown).

That evening was...bliss. My big 3-0 birthday dinner. I picked the restaurant, Nostrana, after an extensive online search (like any good foodie would). It was a tough decision - Portland seriously throws down in terms of good eats. But Nostrana had such a warm feel...and an owner/chef who just so happens to have been nominated for a James Beard no less than three times.

That being said, I nearly died when we walked through the doors and there she was - working the host stand. Nearly died. Thankfully, Ashley wasn't as shy as I was and introduced our crew. When she heard it was my birthday, she brought us a round of prosecco to celebrate - and kindly posed for photos. Have I mentioned how much I love her?

And the food - sublime. Best food of the trip, hands down. I'm still thinking about that steak.

After dinner, we hit a few more bars on our way back to the hotel - and had a little more birthday fun.

The next morning, we had brunch at Beast, Naomi Pomeroy's (from the current season of Top Chef: Masters) restaurant. It was four courses of heaven.

Heaven! I'm really starting to believe that there's no such thing as a bad meal in this town.

All of it was absolutely perfect. Really, all of Portland was perfect.

Remind me why I don't live there?

Wednesday Confession

2011-06-08T19:34:00.001-07:00

I've been back in town for three full days, and I have to say I haven't written a blog post in two weeks, read a blog post in two weeks...or had even two seconds to think about documenting it all.

This weekend - I promise!

Wednesday Confession

2011-05-25T19:05:00.000-07:00

This is where I should say that I'm already in full vacation mode (T minus 48 hours till the West Coast!), however, the only mode I'm currently residing in is the full-on freak out mode that I have SO much to do for work before I leave.

Confession: I've never felt so much like I shouldn't be leaving the office, and simultaneously like I've never been more in need. Being adult is a lot of work!

The Twitter News Network.

2011-05-23T19:11:00.000-07:00

One of the many reasons I love social media (despite Mr. Grey House's constant taunts about how much I'm on my phone) is its unbelievable ability to scoop the major news networks and set the national conversation - on issues crossing the spectrum of news and pop culture (Hello, Charlie Sheen! Winning!).

I found out about Osama Bin Laden on Twitter.

I found out about the Joplin tornado (My heart breaks for them!) on Twitter.

When I'm curious about the weather, or a breaking news story; where's the first place I look? It's not the mainstream news anymore. As a journalism graduate and self-professed news junkie, I have to say that Twitter has really changed the way I view the news cycle. For a network I joined largely to track funny, uncensored celebrity thoughts (hello, Lilo/Sam Ronson meltdown!), it has become my go to place to find the information I'm looking for in a quick and very real way. Essentially, Twitter has made everyone an on-the-scene reporter. I couldn't love anything more.

Today, while doing my hourly perusal, I was overwhelmed by how many people were connecting - or simply sharing information or photos - about the tornado. Think about that, people were finding loved ones after a major natural disaster on a social media site! Amazing.

For those of you who haven't come around to the world of Twitter, I highly encourage you to give it a try - you won't be disappointed. Even if you don't update on a regular basis, it's so interesting to watch news unfold on your screen.

In related news, I encourage you to help the citizens of Joplin who've been affected by yesterday's tornado. To make a $10 donation to the Red Cross in support of the recovery, simply text REDCROSS to 90999. Do it now. I'll wait. God bless.

Again - how cool is technology that you can text donate?!

I'm Turning Into My Mother and Other Pre-Rapture Revelations.

2011-05-20T19:11:00.000-07:00

It's 9:14 p.m. on a Friday night, and I'm at home in my pjs with a tummy full of Yogurtopia (and wine, of course). There are definitely worse ways to spend an evening.

This has been a long week...yet again. In light of that, rather than a well-thought out post about this week's CSA, or a compelling story about the red and yellow beasts, I thought a brain dump was in order:

1. I'm officially becoming my mother. The mounting grey hair I can handle (that's why God gave me Scott, afterall), but not all of this overly emotional bruhaha. Somehow in my advanced age, I've become incredibly ramotional (shout out to Real Housewives fans!) about everything. And let me say friends, I am not a cryer. I'm stone cold. But these days, show me a girl with downs syndrome becoming the captain of the cheerleading team, and it's waterworks galore up in here. No friends, I am not preggers. Just losing my mind.

2. As of tomorrow, I have seven days left of my twenties...and it actually feels pretty darn good. Most of the past decade has been full of ridiculous fun, but the last few years haven't been so much, and I'm ready for a little transition. That, and I dig round numbers, so 30 seems more solid to me (Yes, we all know I have OCD - is this considered OCD? Hmm.).

3. On Wednesday, I went to another cooking class at the Merc in Lawrence. Again, it was amazing. The class was based on Spring at the Farmer's Market, and included lots of yummy veggie recipes...a few of which will probably be making an appearance on this little blog sometime soon. I'll say it again, these classes are well worth the trip! So fun (especially if you get to do a little pre-drinking with a good friend before it starts!).

4. Our garden is growing...sort of. Tonight I saw the first sprouts of basil and literally jumped up and down with excitement. Don't even try to get between me and a caprese salad fresh from my very own garden this summer.

5. We're in the midst of transition time in the league. I'm crazy excited about the opportunity to serve on the board, but most of my evenings these days are spent at 9215 Ward Parkway. Hectic, indeed.

6. A very good friend of mine lost her grandfather to cancer yesterday. My heart aches for her, and I hope that when the time comes for my family, I am able to handle it with half as much grace and perspective. Remarkable.

7. We're on the final countdown for Adventure: Pacific Northwest! In less than seven days, I hope to be enjoying a local beer in a brewery in Portland, celebrating the eve of 30. SO happy about that.

Wednesday Confession

2011-05-18T03:50:00.000-07:00

I am completely obsessed with thank you notes. I love to send them, I love to receive them, I love to buy them. I cannot leave a Hallmark store without buying a new set, and I'm not exaggerating when I say I have probably close to 100 blank notes in my desk drawer (organized, of course!) at any given time.

I've even been known to send a thank you note after receiving a particularly nice thank you note.

My name is Stephanie, and I'm addicted to hand-written notes.

Lake Weekend and Fur Mom Anxiety.

2011-05-15T17:56:00.000-07:00

This weekend we made a somewhat impromptu trip down to Oklahoma to visit the grandparents and have a little lakeside fun. The weather was chilly, but otherwise perfect, and it was wonderful to spend some time catching up (over several lively games of pitch, of course).

Their place makes me happy. And my camera.

Of course, there was a little of this involved as well:

Have I mentioned that I'm handy with the steel? Of course I have.

My only hesitation about the weekend was what to do with our four-legged children. Bryan's parents (our normal dog sitters) are going to be spending the week with them when we go to Portland, so we felt sort of bad turning Wrigley (read: demon) loose on them again. We were also sort of wanting to give boarding a go at the kennel Wrigs has been going to for daycare on and off for the last month or so.

I should note that Wyatt, in his ten years of canine life, has never spent the night with someone outside of the family. We're spoiled, and so is he. That being said, I was more than a little nervous to turn my fur babies over for the weekend.

Cut to tonight, when we were practically dragging them out of playtime. Now, two hours and two baths later, both are snoozing on the couch.

Weekend = success.

Wednesday Confession - Breakfast Edition

2011-05-11T19:05:00.000-07:00

Every morning for nearly four years (minus a few vacation days, boozy brunches, or work functions), I've eaten the same thing for breakfast. Every. Single. Morning.

What is this breakfast of champions?

Two slices of whole wheat toast, topped with all-natural peanut butter (crunchy, of course), with a glass of OJ.

Sometimes I even wake up looking forward to it. Such goodness.

Maifest.

2011-05-09T16:16:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday was the day Mr. Grey House has been dreaming about for months - Maifest. For those who are unfamiliar, Bryan has a small, but mighty group of fraternity brothers who moonlight as pretty kick-ass home brewers...on a less than small scale. For the second year in a row, they threw a great afternoon party that involved food, friends, washers, and lots and lots of great, great beer.

It was wonderful to catch up with many members of his K-State crew, and even better to do it outside on a beautiful May day with a never-ending pint in my hand. Needless to say, Mr. Grey House was at home in bed (read: passed out in the car in front of Oklahoma Joe's) by 7:30 p.m.

We party hard like that.

Wednesday Confession - It's Back!

2011-05-04T17:38:00.000-07:00

I'm so happy to finally announce the return of Wednesday Confessions! Not that they went away for any real reason, other than my crazy schedule.

Anyway, without further ado, my Wednesday confession is...

I often do not wash my fruit.

Am I in the minority on this? Is this awful?? Sometimes it just seems so unnecessary. Or I'm lazy. Whatevs.

I shouldn't be so excited about radishes, but...

2011-05-02T18:32:00.000-07:00

Today is my produce Christmas - the first day of our new CSA!

Yes, that is new CSA. I enjoyed a lot of the Hen House CSA we did last year (our first), but I thought it was too much food for two people, and most disappointing for me - I thought it was way too heavy on meat and cheese. No offense to those who love the meat and cheese (and I did love that you could swap out items if you didn't like or need them, etc.), but I joined a CSA for the fresh produce...and last year's felt decidedly short on just that.

Cut to last fall, when Bryan and I (and the in-laws), went on the Kaw Valley Farm Tour. Our last stop was a little farm just down the street from the local winery (already a plus in my book!), and let me tell you - I fell in love. Hardcore.

Not only was it produce-based - and portioned for two (yay!) - but as a member you're able to come out and help garden! Be still my veggie-loving heart. I'm already feeling smug in my hippie CSA goodness (though, they aren't really hippies so much as a delightfully nice Kansas family).

Today was our first pick-up (in a location much closer to home). We scored radishes, sweet onions, spinach, and a transplant of Marjoram. It's the first of a series of herb transplants - which I of course love. I would plant an entire garden of herbs if I could. Actually, wait, I think I did that last year. Hmmm.

While we were there, we also got invited to brunch on the farm in a few weeks! Seriously, can you think of anything more wonderful?! No, you cannot.

All of this veggie business is really making me want to finally plant our garden...I know, I talked about doing this probably a month ago, we even bought the plants, but we've been so busy, and it's been cold...I could go on and on.

This week - the Grey House garden will be planted!

Or maybe I'll just see what we get in the CSA next week..............

God Save the (Future) Queen.

2011-04-29T19:41:00.000-07:00

Just like most everyone else on the planet, I soaked up every bit of the wedding coverage today.

What differs from my viewing, however, was the location...Union Station, Kansas City - the current home of Princess Diana's wedding dress. I watched William marry his bride mere feet (okay, many feet) from the dress that forever changed the train...how cool is that?!

Yes, those marketing geniuses at Union Station had a watch party this morning to mark the royal wedding. I was there, along with thousands (yes, thousands) of my fellow Wills and Kate-obsessed friends. There were lots of hats, tiaras, and even a wedding gown or two.

The catch re: the watch party? The doors opened at 3:00 a.m. Yes, I woke up at 1:45 this morning to haul my cookies downtown...and it was worth every bit of lost sleep and then some.

Flatly, this was perhaps one of the best decisions I've made in a long time. The crowd at Union Station was friendly, warm, and outright excited. There was lots of clapping, even cheering. Best of all, I was nowhere near the most royal-obsessed in the crowd (whew!).

What does 3:00 a.m. at a wedding watch party look like? Something like this (please note the double wonky/sleepy eye):

Please note that we are both wearing the official wedding pins from Westminster Abbey, brought to us by my friend and fellow wedding watcher Abby's adorable mom - who was lucky enough to spend some time in London just a few short weeks ago.

So much fun.

And the wedding - absolutely stunning. I don't know that I've ever seen a more beautiful wedding dress. I especially loved the smirks shared during the ceremony between the couple - and the best man. Too cute. And speaking of, that Prince Harry just gets more and more handsome every day. But the "Just Wed" Aston Martin?? Kill me now I love it so much.

Again, does it get any better than this? Of course not.

April 26, 1991.

2011-04-26T07:01:00.000-07:00

Twenty years ago on this day, at 6:21 p.m., my childhood home was destroyed by an F-5 tornado. After leveling much of our neighborhood, it would continue on to Andover. In total, 24 people would lose their lives.

I remember that day well. I was in the fourth grade and we'd gone on a school field trip to the Gem and Mineral Show (my class always seemed to go on this random field trip, I think in large part because my uncle helped organize the show). It had been a beautiful day, but as I boarded the bus, I remember the driver telling all of us that we were under a tornado watch.

In Wichita, tornado watches frankly don't mean much. We get so much severe weather, it's not atypical to completely ignore a pending storm. This day was no different.

That evening was my brother's school's fun night (I was bused into a school downtown; my brother's elementary school was only a few blocks from our home), and as president of the PTA, my mom went to the school early to help set up and we came along. The dozens and dozens of pizzas for the night had just arrived when the first set of sirens sounded.

Again, because this was very routine for April in Kansas, my mom and the principal checked the radio, and shortly after they sounded the "all clear" bell at the school. What happened next is something I will always remember. I had decided to walk down the hall to get a drink of water - at the end of the hall was a large window that faced a neighboring field. As I approached the window, I saw it. A tornado, heading directly for the school. My stepfather must have seen it as well, and I was quickly moved into another nearby hallway with several of my friends to ride out the storm.

The outside noise was loud, and I could hear one of my good friends begin to cry. At all of nine years old, I remember the feeling of helplessness as we braced for what was next.

And then - silence. Silence that seemed to last forever.

The tornado had somehow shifted directions, no more than a 100 yards from the school. We think it went briefly back up into the air, before touching down on my street. Walking out of the school, we all thought we'd missed it - that we were all fine.

A few minutes later, our parents starting getting reports that part of South Wichita had indeed been hit. And then I saw my uncle, breathless from the run to the school. He was too far away to make out what he told my mom, but the look on her face confirmed our fears.

When we turned the corner onto our block, it looked as if a bomb had gone off. Trees and downed power lines blanketed the streets. Our house was unrecognizable. The storm had thrown our neighbor's roof through the side of my room. Our other car had been tossed into the garage on its side. In our backyard, we came upon the most gruesome site of all - our neighbor. He'd been trying to reach our house (his had no basement), when the tornado hit. In the midst of the storm, he'd been gored by a stray two by four. But he was alive. I remember my grandfather (whose house, across the street from ours, had been spared), sprinting down the drive to find the paramedics, who were having trouble reaching us because of all of the debris.

I remember seeing looters rummaging through what was left of our lives; some arriving before we did.

I remember television crews, and gawkers.

I remember the National Guard. The Red Cross. The Salvation Army.

And I remember coming to school the following Tuesday, in clothes I'd been given by a stranger, to meet the families of my classmates, who'd come together to show their support for the little girl from the South side of town who had just lost everything.

It's hard to believe that twenty years have passed since that day. The memories are so fresh - the destruction, the sounds, the smell - I'll never be able to fully put it out of my mind. But what stays with me the most was the incredible outpouring of support we received; often from strangers. The city came together in a way that is hard to imagine unless you've been in the midst of it. To say that the experience impacted me would be a gross understatement - this experience shapes so much of who I am today, and why I feel such a pull towards non profit work.

A few years ago, I had the opportunity to go to Greensburg, Kansas to help with the clean-up following the first recorded EF-5 tornado, another storm that had come with too little warning, and claimed too many lives. Driving through what was left of their small town - I saw it there, too. The volunteers. The guardsmen. The neighbors who vowed to rebuild, to make the town stronger than ever before.

That's the real story behind all of these storms - the hope, the spirit of survival, the compassion. I know it is certainly not unique to the Midwest, but it feels so ingrained, it is hard to imagine a more generous, caring group of people - and it makes me feel so proud and humbled to be a Kansan.

Passing out was not a part of my Lenten plans.

2011-04-25T17:51:00.000-07:00

You'll have to forgive my silence of the last few days (once again). You see, I nearly died on Friday**, and the last few days have been all about recovery.

**This statement is a gross and irresponsible exaggeration. But it was quite scary.

Here's the story of trauma: A few weeks ago, I got a letter in the mail from the local blood center asking that I up my normal whole blood donation to platelets. Ok, fine - so I scheduled an appointment for last Friday over the lunch hour.

Cut to my appointment. Because it was my first time, they do a bit of a test on my vein to make sure it will be able to handle the transfer of blood back into my arm. I'll spare you the gory details, but just know that my vein was ABSOLUTELY NOT ready for that kind of a shock. As the transfer began, I saw a ridiculous bulge in my arm (as the crew at the blood center raced to shut off the machine/remove the needle), there was what seemed like a lot of blood...and then everything went black.

Yes, friends, for the first time in my life, I passed out. I don't think it was for long, but when I opened my eyes, there were twice the number of staff members, holding ice packs and water, and generally looking freaked out.

Needless to say, I left work early and did what any rational woman would do: got a pedicure. So much better.

The rest of the weekend was pretty fantastic; on Saturday, we planted flowers in my deck containers...

Planned out the rest of my super-rad birthday trip (one more month!!!)...

and went to a fancy-pants steakhouse for dinner (and yet another fancy-pants steakhouse for $15 drinks after).**

**This outing was brought to you by my friends at Groupon.

Sunday was of course Easter - which meant family time + dinner. Our greatest achievement of the day was not the salad we brought, but rather, our decision to attend OUR church for service, rather than the family church (Where, I kid you not, the last time we attended I had to sit through a five minute witness on how my tithe was helping stop abortion. People - you know me. Someone was nearly post-term aborted that day. I think my in-laws were only slightly embarrassed by my behavior). In any event, it was a truly moving service and I'm so, so glad we made the decision. COR = my religious happy place (which for me, I think says a lot).

Today - my glorious Easter flex holiday. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been thinking all week that I was just going to work through it, but based on your comments last week (thank you, Scott!), I took the day for myself. I slept in (well, until 8:00, ha - gotta love puppies), watched Hoda and Kathy Lee (talk about guilty pleasure), and had a glorious and long overdue date with an elliptical, this month's Runner's World and my new, but not so new kicks (one of the perks of having a friend who works for Asics is that I buy my overpriced running shoes in bulk)!

Pretty, pretty. (Please disregard the red dog who felt it necessary to sit in every photo I took. He's so needy now that there's a new dog on the scene.)

Best of all, I've been in my pajama pants since 2:18 p.m.

Definitely better than the weekend began (note to self: stick to whole blood; your veins are cowards).

April is trying to kill me.

2011-04-19T18:50:00.001-07:00

As I think you've probably figured out by now, I'm a gal who likes to stay busy. Comfortably busy. I love to juggle projects, work, running, volunteering, community meetings...the list goes on and on. I struggle a bit with too much free time (as you may have guessed if you were reading this little blog during "Project Funemployment.")

April, however, has moved well beyond comfortably busy into territory somewhere near the edge of madness/personal insanity. I have not had a free day since mid-March. MID MARCH, friends. There has been little to no pajama and wine time, no lounging with the doggies, and certainly no running (past my weekend o' madness, that is). I've never felt more like I was just treading water. On more than one occasion, the first thought on my mind as the morning alarm went off was "What do I need to get through today to get back to this bed??" Sad panda.

Not that it hasn't had enjoyable moments - many of these plans included dollar cans in college bars, day-drinking with Princess Diana's wedding dress, and other good-stuff kind of shenanigans. It's precisely this kind of fun-ness that I don't want to miss because I'm so bogged down with other, much less fun things.

The trouble is clearing the mundane, of course. Learning to say no, and in many cases, admitting to myself that I can't be all things to all people. For this type-A kid, though, that is much easier said than done.

At the beginning of the year, my overarching goal was to sort of "fly by the seat of my pants" this year - no major planning, no fretting about not being as productive as I should be, or not quite meeting life goals I'd set for myself. Just to live. How blissful that sounds today.

I was jotting something into my calendar for next month when it struck me that my birthday is just over a month away. My thirtieth birthday. One thing I know for sure is that I don't want to spend this last month of my youth (ha!), sitting in meetings and just generally doing a laundry list of things I frankly don't want to do.

So I'm putting out here in the blog-o-sphere - I will spend as much of the waning days of my twenties enjoying myself! Teaching my stunted dog to play fetch, gardening, drinking margaritas on patios, and whatever the hell else strikes me as fun times...I say as I check my planner for a responsible time to be spontaneous. God help me.

I'm also coming to all of you - how do you balance all of your commitments with free time? Does free time even really exist anymore? And most importantly, what can I do to get more pajama time!?

Wednesday Confession

2011-04-13T19:22:00.000-07:00

At some point in each of the last three days, I've had a conversation with someone about how nuclear the food at McDonald's is, and how awful it is for you.

The result? I could think of nothing else.

Hiking shoes, dollar cans, and Uncle Teardrop.

2011-04-12T19:14:00.001-07:00

Last weekend, along with one of our most favorite friends, Abby (who is hilarious, bee-tee-dubs), we set out for a Southern adventure - to the home of Wal-Mart!

Well, not exactly the home of Wal-Mart (that's Bentonville, if you're interested), but pretty darn close - Fayetteville, Arkansas. Home of the Razorbacks, and our friends Mike and Leslie.

We made it to town early Saturday afternoon, and after a tasty lunch at their place (Why do lunches at my place never seem so relaxed??), the girls set out for a local hiking trail, while the boys did what boys do during Masters weekend - drink beer in front of the largest television in the house. Ozzie joined the girls, obvi.

Doggles!

This is where the story gets interesting, friends. On our way to the trail, Leslie realized that she was nearly out of gas. Typically not a cause for concern...unless you're in the wilderness and miles and miles away from the nearest known gas station. Cut to Abby and I working some iPhone magic and locating a convenience store in a gem of a town called Winslow.

This was perhaps the nicest house in town:

Or it was where the real Uncle Teardrop cooks up his meth? You decide.

The gas station was no less than epic. Picture every bad Arkansas stereotype, coupled with several of the characters from Deliverance and I think you'll come close to setting the scene. We were the only patrons in shirts (aside from some bicyclists who happened to be on a well-timed pit stop). If only I would have been brave enough to take a photo - I promise you wouldn't have been disappointed.

After the best detour ever, we set off for the park, which was beautiful. We had a great hike - and successfully wore out Ozzie.

(127 Hours, anyone?)

That evening, we hit downtown Fayetteville for some patio and cocktail time (read: perhaps the best mojitos I've ever had). Let me say this: big fan of downtown Fayetteville. There is something about college towns that give me warm fuzzies and makes me long for the days of afternoon naps and two dollar pitchers.

On Sunday, we had brunch just off campus in the most adorable and Southern Inn - and of course, had to stop for Braum's. God, I miss Braum's.

All in all, a really fun (and exhausting) weekend in Arkansas. Thanks to Mike and Leslie for being such gracious hosts (and introducing Bryan to the fine culinary art of street meat)!