Date Night.

Friday date night typically means me cooking something easy and 39 episodes of some show on Netflix with my favorite and cutest friend/fiance. Lately its been Friday Night Lights, and tonight we wrapped up season 4 (sobs). I'D LIKE TO POINT OUT THAT JESS MERRIWEATHER OF FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS (played by Jurnee Smollett) WAS MICHELLE TANNER'S BFF IN FULL HOUSE (Denise Frazer). 

For tonight's date night, I decided to make pasta alla Marlboro Man. I wanted to keep it simple for 2 reasons tonight:

1. Matt eats everything I make, even when I make healthy versions of things that he normally wouldn't pick himself; I wanted to make something right up his alley (ground beef instead of the usual turkey, light on the tomato sauce, etc.) to show my appreciation.
2. I wanted to make Blue Moon cupcakes for dessert, and I wanted to cook a low maintenance meal so I wouldn't be in the kitchen all night. I'm not THAT domestic.

Baking always makes a fat mess. Here's a picture of all th--I'm such a brat, I just wanted to show you my KitchenAid. Sorry. I made this mess on purpose. Sorry.

The cuppycakes themselves. The frosting is frothy like beer foam.

Pretend I chose a plate that didn't have cherries on it. Sick.

:)

Well. Survey says: The cupcakes were good, but not great. The cake itself was a little blah. Maybe it needed more orange zest than originally called for. The frosting was kind of weird. In the words of the taste tester pictured above, "I like the idea of these cupcakes more than the cupcakes themselves." 

Its time for me to go fall into my bed like a chopped down tree. Happy weekend!

I'M BACK!

SUP HOMES! I totally miss blogging. Didn't I tell you this would happen? Way back when I started VFL? I did. Its happened with every blog I've started. But I'm back this time. I have to be! You guys! I'm getting married in THREE months! I have to prove to my OTL* that I can commit. This blog represents my marriage, you guys. It represents everything that is about to be. 

I have pictures. I have recipes! I have fresh gabs for my friends & followers.

But before all of that, czech this blog out. Read the last few entries. Just a warning, it will make you cry. But it has made me feel extra thankful for the love in my life. Granted, it also made me feel extra sensitive and sobby supreme, but it doesn't take much. 

I'll be back sooner than you can shake a wet cat dry.

*one true love

Monday Afternoon Reflections

Its probably not a surprise to anyone who knows me that this post is coming from the fiery depths of the wicked practice known as procrastination. I'm procrastinating studying for my anatomy test that is Thursday. If you've been on the receiving end of my complaining about this test for past 2 weeks, then I apologize for bringing it up again. When its crunch time, I like to do everything BUT what it is I'm supposed to be crunching for. So my house is spotless, I'm all caught up on blog reading, I've done all paperwork that needs to be done for the week, AND I've called to set up cable, which is something I've been putting off since I moved here. Why have I put off calling cable? Because I hate calling companies and setting stuff up. I don't know why. The only reason I have electricity and gas is because my wonderful fiance called for me after much whining & pleading.

ANYWAY. The contents of this post stem from something I was thinking about on Father's Day, as well as something that happened in my therapy session this morning. Its pretty funny to me.

I spent Father's Day at home with my family this year, and I started thinking about little things my dad used to do that I thought were amazing. Normal dad stuff that I vividly recall being just so impressed with. I remember using a wash cloth after I brushed my teeth to clean up all the toothpaste I got on my face (I used to be a messy teeth-brusher). Occasionally my bathroom cabinet was stocked only with the bigger & newer wash cloths that were too thick for me to wring out. Thats when my dad stepped in. Good grief. It was amazing to see him wring out that wash cloth with one thorough twisty squeeze. ONE TWISTY SQUEEZE. Thats all it took! And it was ready to go. It would've taken me 57 minutes to do that kind of work at the time. I knew it, too. I knew I had tiny hands and sucked at wringing thick cloths out, and I knew if I asked my mom to do it, she'd do a good job, but not near as intense of a twisty squeeze as my dad. It was very exciting for me...I didn't get out much.

Another thing he used to do that blew my mind: Anyone remember chocolate soldiers? They were a chocolate milk/yoohoo type drink. Except better. Way more chocolatey. Which is awesome, BUT...that means more chocolate settled at the bottom of the bottle. Yikes. I used to ask my dad if we could stop at the gas station near our house to get a chocolate soldier when I'd be out running errands with him or after church. He was always up for that. Without having to ask, he'd shake that bottle up so vigorously, you'd think the milk came out of the cow chocolate. Seriously, 3 good shakes and the chocolate was more incorporated into the milk than I could've ever hoped for. "Freakin A, dad! Way to go!" I used to say to him. I think. Maybe not.

Tying this all together, this morning in a therapy session, my 3 year old client was wiping glitter off the table, and when I realized we were out of time, I got it all in one swift motion with a paper towel. The look on her face was exactly how I remember feeling when my dad would wring out my wash cloths or shake up my chocolate soldiers. She was impressed, man. It made me feel like a grownup, which is a bittersweet feeling as we all know. It reminded me, though, that I really am a giant grownup to the kids I work with. They don't know that I'm stressed out or concerned I may not be doing things exactly right. They have no idea. They just know that when its time for speech, if they don't fill up their sticker chart, they're not getting a prize out of my badass prize box.

In conclusion, being a grownup is cool sometimes.

I'm back!

Lets ignore the fact that I haven't logged into my own blog in well over a month. Lets also ignore the fact that I'm eating carbs past 2 pm, a time I deemed necessary (based on zero research) to cut off all carb intake. Instead, here are some pictures from my iPhone!

BAM! Moving.

Matthew & Jake. My heroes. My dramatic heroes. My struggling, dramatic, pizza-loving heroes.

I have no words.

This movie is irresistible, a ton of fun, full of heart.

Matthew built this shelf for my new apartment. 

Finished product.

Sorry for the lack of cohesion. My pictures do not really tell a story, but they are proof that a lot has changed in the past 2 months for me. I graduated, moved & am up to my neck in my first semester of grad school. I said goodbye to my roommate of 3 years as she and her husband moved away to Boulder, CO, and am now living alone until December 10, 2011. I must say...living alone is amazing. It took me about a week to realize it, but I love it now. I've cooked a few tasty things since I've been here, and I've got the recipes saved (as well as pictures!) so the next few posts be food ones. FINALLY.

Don't lose the faith! If you're into cooking, come back & look at the recipes I've stolen from other blogs. It'll be a total blast.

5 Creative Ways To Display Your Bling.

Obviously, I think I have the prettiest engagement ring that has ever existed. I hope those of you reading this who are engaged/have an engagement ring think the same about your ring (I'm sure you do!). I'd like to share with you a few subtle ways you can show your ring off without being a total douche. I practice these daily!

1.

Drink diet sodas any time someone is talking to you. Make sure its fountain with a straw option so you never have to move your hand from the front of the cup.

2.

Have dramatic and loud phone conversations in public. Pace the room and turn around a lot of times so you can give anyone/everyone in vicinity a chance to catch a glimpse.

3.

Do a sideways/sincere-looking weenie laugh any time someone tells a joke. Make eye contact and keep your hand in front of your mouth, I REPEAT: KEEP HAND IN FRONT OF MOUTH.

4.

"Fix your contact." Classic.

5.

Complain about the headache you don't have. Keep eyes closed for intensity.

Did you guys have a totally balling mother's day? I def did. My mom marinated cheese. Ok, bye!

Monday List.

1. There was a spider in my car this morning that almost made me wreck just by existing. I don't know how to fix this problem. Matthew is shaking his head right now. STOP IT! IT WAS BIG! 
2. My parents bestowed upon us a KitchenAid mixer for Easter, and I'm whipping up my first recipe with it for Mother's Day. YBYA there will be an accompanying blog post. 
3. I'm tired of school. I want a summer vacation. I regret applying to grad school. No I don't. Yes I do. No I don't. I have a headache.
4. I want a tan. I need a tan.
5. I have a test tomorrow + 2 projects to turn in. 
6. Where can I get boxes? I have to pack up my house at some point.
7. My iPhone screen shattered last night because I didn't get an OtterBox like everyone told me to. 
8. Who can I pay in peanut butter crackers to come here and wash my hair/massage my head? Russell, do you read this blog? Do you do house calls? Helloooo?
9. I think I hear a spider.
10. One day I intend to figure out the shaded dots representing which burner is which on stoves. 
11. Today is not that day.
12. Why do you have to be able to read blurry/squiggly fake words just to buy concert tickets?
13. Why am I pricing concert tickets when I need to be studying?
14. Could a foodie tell me what chives contribute? Has anyone ever said "BUT THANK GOD FOR THE CHIVES!"? I'm just wondering. I know not their purpose. 
15. I am blessed with the very things that stress me out. I can handle it all as long as I maintain this kick-ass support system I've got going on. 

Cinni Minnies.

I have a cinnamon roll problem. Here it is: I love them too much. 

And in honor of that love, I've written a poem. Here it goes.

Hey you hot, sweet puppies.

I think you're mighty tasty.

Copyright 2011

These. THESE. These are every bit as tasty as they are darling. I promise, because I tested them out on my roommate, a cinnamon roll connoisseur, and she gave me a thumbs up. Which is sign language for "these cinnamon rolls are a hit!" if you didn't already know.

I failed to capture pictures of each step of the way, but thats because there were so few steps and it was so simple and I am so lazy. Here's the breakdown:

Ingredients:

• 1 can buttermilk refrigerated biscuits (I used Pillsbury's new kind called "Simple" because I'm super healthy and they take away 100 calories. Thats not true at all. A lie is what it is. From the pits of hell.)
• 5 tablespoons softened butter
• 1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
• 2 teaspoons cinnamon
• 1 cup powdered sugar
• 5 tablespoons heavy cream

What you're going to do first is preheat your oven to 350. Go ahead and leave your oven on 350 at all times since most things bake at that temperature. Okay, don't. House fires, etc. Next thing you'll do is spray a cookie sheet with some Pam or whatever you like to use. Then on your (clean) counter surface, flatten out each biscuit. Smear some softened butter on each biscuit. Sprinkle some brown sugar & cinnamon on said uncooked buttered biscuits. Roll those puppies up like a jelly-roll. Cut those babies into 6 leetle cinny minnies. You know what I'm talking about. Lay them cut side up on greased cookie sheet, and let them cook for about 16 minutes. Or whenever they look ready. You'll know. You'll totally know. While they're baking...

Dump a cup of powdered sugar into a bowl and whisk in 5 tablespoons of heavy cream. Add a little more if its too thick. Stick your finger in it. Lick it off. Repeat until someone sees you and accuses you of being weird. This is your icing. Set it aside. 

Once these puppies/babies/cinnamon rolls are ready to come out of the oven, drizzle the icing all over them. Let them cool for 5 minutes before attempting to pop them in your mouth. You'll thank me.

Thats it. SO easy. Make 'em. Eat 'em. Love 'em.

Yikes, its almost 2 am.

Normally by this time I'd have fallen into bed like a chopped down tree and been snoozing for a good 3 hours. Tonight I'm in the wedding planning zone. Also the apartment decoration inspiration-getting zone. Also the finger nail biting zone, but don't tell my fave guy, Matt. He'll beat me up.

Just kidding! The most he's ever beat me up was every single day when we "play" karate & he boxes my face real hard and JUST KIDDING AGAIN mwahahaha.

I'm seriously kidding (oxymoron?), please don't call the authorities.

We spent a good part of this weekend searching for homes in my soon-to-be/his current city. We wanted someplace that I could live in by myself until we got married (preferably near the school I'll be attending beginning next month), and that he could just move into once our last names were the same. I think we may have found that place. Updates on that to come this week :)

I've been looking at Design*Sponge for ideas on how to make cute small spaces, so if any of you have favorite home design blogs, I'd love for you to share!

As pumped as I am about finding ideas for my new home, I'd better go to sleep. 2011 is probably going to be one of the busiest years of my life, so beauty rest is important. As are anti-aging skin care products, which I stocked up on last week. Goodnight!

A Story.

I'm blogging from a bubble bath, folks. Felt like I needed to straight up tell you what was up. Yeah. I'm in the bath, and YES I have Martha Washington hair (junior high pool party reference, anyone?) as I type this, but try to forget about that.

Yesterday was a fab day. It was totally productive & 100% feel-good weather. Dang near everything was roses & rainbows. I observed cool clients all morning, scored THREE language tests in my afternoon class (it takes me forev to score), and worked on campus for the rest of the day answering phones. After I got off work, I went to the grocery and came home feeling like a champ (minus the cut on my foot that I couldn't seem to stop complaining about). I hung out with my roommate (Katie G) for a little while, then with my pal Stephanie. Normal afternoon, totally ready for a chill evening at this point. I'm hoping to watch the new Parenthood (AKA P-Sauce AKA P-Hood AKA PH) with Katie G, but we find ourselves locked out of our home right as the sun is fading. 

Perfect.

"Locked out?" you ask. 

"Locked out," I say.

Sure, we had the front door key. Its the only key we had. But it wouldn't work for some reason. Katie G had her cell phone, but that was it. My phone was inside, as were our keys and our sanity. Ok, just my sanity was gone. I started having a panic attack once it became totally dark. Finally it broke off into the door. Our rental company's emergency line was no help. Nobody answered. (Keep in mind our neighborhood isn't the greatest, not to mention our grass hasn't been mowed in 2 years and all I kept thinking about were snakes and rats and bobcats and lasagna [I was hungry].) We tried for what seemed like forever breaking into our own house. 

We kicked in the doggy door, dangit. My ponytail didn't even look big enough to fit through it, but I was determined. Once I squeezed my head through, I realized I was stuck and began screaming hysterically. 

That part about the doggy door isn't true.

Then I remembered! My strapping, dapper, handy, manly fiance had a spare key! Yes! Last month when our pals Andy & Polly got married, I gave Matt a spare key to my house since he would need a place to keep his fancy wedding stuff, and I wouldn't be home to let him in. I forgot to get the key back, so "I'll call him!" I thought.

Turns out, I don't know his number.

Thats right, and I probably don't know yours either. Thats because I don't know ANYONE'S. Does anyone know phone numbers anymore? I mean, you log it into your phone and you never have to dial it again. But my phone was inside. Oh my gosh. I felt freaking insane for not knowing my own fiance's digits! Using my roommate's phone obv, we make some calls, text some folks, hoping SOMEONE could give us my fiance's number.

And when we finally get the digits...

"Hello?"

"MATT! Hey!"

"Uh hey."

"Its Katie!"

"Who?"

"Your fiance! The woman you're going to marry in 8 months!"

"Oh? Hey!"

"WE LOCKED OURSELVES OUT AND WE HAVE BEEN TRYING TO BREAK IN, AND MATT, I DON'T KNOW YOUR PHONE NUMBER, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? WE'RE MISSING PARENTHOOD AND OHMYGOD, I FORGOT YOU HAD A KEY AND THEN I REMEMBERED AND MATT, THE KEY BROKE OFF IN THE DOOR AND CAN YOU JUST PLEASE BRING THE KEY WE CAN'T GET IN AND I HAVE A TEST TOMORROW AND..."

"Haha. I'm on my way."

"But I love you."

"I love you too. See you in an hour."

Boom. Saved. I don't know what else to say except once we got inside I kissed the ground. No I didn't, you guys know I don't own a mop or a swiffer, that would be stupid and disgusting of me. 

The end.

DOs & DON'Ts & Treasure.

Happy Monday, friends & followers. This morning I had hiccups for roughly 35 minutes. Life is hard.

Here are some tips to live by this week:

DON'T bite your lip as an alternative to your fingernails.
DO shake your sheets out every night before you go to sleep (spiders).

DON'T eat at Logan's if you have a peanut allergy.
DO eat ice cream with your fiance late at night, and support his decision to get mini marshmallows & sprinkles.

DON'T forget to say thank you when someone pays for your meal, even if they do it often :)
DO realize that splinters can get inside your face skin & pester you during church.

DON'T underestimate the power of a Sunday afternoon nap on the couch.
DO watch cartoons on your laptop while taking a bubble bath.

DON'T visit anthropologie.com unless you just got paid (lawd hammercy).
DO wear a dress instead of jeans when its 96 degrees outside, amen.

DON'T tickle me ever.
DO make this cinnamon pull-apart bread for your loved ones (I'm making it this weekend).

My goals for this week include, but are not limited to, deciding on bridesmaids dresses in 3 different shades of grey, log in 6 observation hours for school, make some club sandwiches for whoever comes to my house to watch the new episode of NBC's hit television series Parenthood tomorrow night (ahem...Matt?), and be as much of a health nut as I can.

I am a fan of traveling through the archives of my favorite blogs and reading their super early posts. I think I'll start linking ones I find & like to my posts for you to read, because I feel like they're little treasures buried away. How cheesy did that just sound? I don't care, I really feel that way.

My first treasure to share with you is a post from 2007 from a blog called NieNie Dialogues. NieNie (Stephanie) has been blogging for years, and in 2008 she and her husband were in a plane crash. I began reading her blog post-crash and I fell in love with it. This post is super sweet and cute.

Have a safe & super week, buttheads*.

(*friends)

Lisping.

Holla! (Don't.) Its been a busy last couple of weeks for this gal. I'll break it down list-style.

1. Found out I was accepted to grad school last week at LSUHSC-Shreveport.
2. Found out I start the Monday following graduation (next month).
3. Celebrated the fact that I'll be wearing scrubs for the next 2 years.
4. Was told that scrubs make you fat.
5. Mourned the fact that I'll be wearing scrubs for the next 2 years.
6. Watched the newest episode of NBC's hit television series, Parenthood, and wept like a child.
7. Received my wedding dress from Canada.
8. Killed a mosquito.
9. Observed 6 hours of swallowing therapy.

I can neither confirm nor deny the fact that I learned this dance with 3 of my bffs in 6th grade and danced to it at our Valentine's dance that year.

I can neither confirm nor deny the fact that I still know it. 

And no, guys, I didn't ONLY listen to girl band, Dream, because lead singer Holly Blake had/has a frontal lisp. I totally liked the way they danced and matched their colors.

They've since fizzled. Probably because Holly couldn't quit lisping. 

Lets get those lisps taken care of, gang! Lateral or frontal, in 2 years I'll be your gal. Bring your disordered/language impaired/artic/cute freaking kids to me and I'll make sure their careers don't fizzle like Holly from Dream's did. 

Cheers!

Crepes.

If you ate 329 crepes Thursday night, there's a good chance you ate one less than me. My friend Michael came to my home and cooked HOMEMADE crepes for me and my roommate. Before I get into the crepes, can I talk about the picture I just linked Michael to? This is actually him. He doesn't have a blog (that I know of) for me to link him to, but I still wanted you to have an image in your head to work with throughout this post. So I creepily went to his FBPPs (facebook profile pics) and picked this one of him at last year's Winter X Games.

The crepes. So Michael used to work at a crepe shop in Alaska, and when I found out, I began pestering him to make crepes for me. You see, my fiance (Matthew) and I tried to make crepes a few months back and we both were disappointed with the results. They were okaaaaay, but they didn't blow our whistles like we'd hoped they would. So when Michael offered to show me "the way" with his secret Alaskan family recipe, I was pumped. I was on fire, man. Couldn't wait to get those crepes into my scream-hole.

Thursday night was crepe night. Michael made chicken pesto (fav), strawberry nutella (fav), and banana peanut butter (FAV) ones. I wanted to take pictures with my Ashton Kutcher Nikon of each one, but I was too busy cramming them into my face. So I only got a couple pictures of the strawberry nutella ones. My b.

CREPES ARE SO DELICIOUS. I wish I could provide the recipe. I really do. I vaguely remember Michael saying something about equal parts something something. I'm such a crappy food blogger!

On a different note, I like the idea of providing pictures when I mention names. If you're my friend IRL (in real life) or on FB, you are at risk of being mentioned and linked to a picture of my choosing. So go ahead and eliminate the ones that embarrass you, for I will find it. This is my only warning. Cheers!

I hate your cat.

Someone wise once said, "My whole life I've been slow and passed it off as meticulous." 

It was actually one of my friends. They tweeted it. I just can't remember who.

I am slow. It is my nature. I am slow getting out of bed every single day of my life. I spend 45 minutes thinking about what I'm hungry for when I finally decide I'm hungry. I am slow to recover from an argument, even after its completely resolved. My hair grows slow. Things like that.

Here are some things I'm pretty quick at doing:

• Pointing out dogs in the backs of trucks.
• Eating green sour patch kids.
• Falling asleep.
• Putting on socks.
• Screaming when I see a spider.
• Crying when I see a lizard.
• Spotting all the fat babies in the restaurant and keeping my eye on them throughout dinner just in case they give me a second of eye contact.

...................................................................................................................................

I put a million periods there so I wouldn't have to come up with a smooth transition. So lazy. That doesn't get you famous. Not that I want to be famous or anything. I mean, who cares about this year's Eleventh Annual Bloggies? HA. Not me. I don't even know what those are. 

I'd like to apologize to my friends & followers for threatening your lives in my last post, then not following through with my end of the deal. I did not post a salad recipe the next day like I said I would. Sorry. I have no excuse. I just didn't do it. What a loser. 

But wait! I do have just a few pictures for you to look at. Feast your eyeballs.

Homemade blackberry creme brulee going into the oven.

Thats my man torching the sugar on top. He's so brave. But also he just loves fire s'damn much.

Strategy. Look at how he organized those pieces. I was a huge help in that process.

My new matte grey nail polish. I painted my nails because puzzles make me feel like a failure.

Grey nails + bling + new Anthropologie tea cup. 

Its been a busy last few weeks. This coming weekend will be the first since mine & Matthew's engagement that I don't have plans. I can't wait. Weeks are already busy, and busy weekends make things crazy in my head. I can't wait to get bored. That is totally my comfort zone. Like, totally. Like. 

Y'all, I love y'all. Srsly. g2g. 

Moments.

This is a pretty excellent video. I seriously felt that pre-tear sting in my nasal cavity at the end with the balloon. Videos get me, you guys. Also life. And margaritas.

I had a fabulous retreat of a Mardi Gras break. I slept a lot and ate a lot and napped a lot and watched a lot of movies. I spent most of my time under a blanket. I didn't fix my hair. I didn't wear makeup. I did see Rango and it was funny. I did eat 1 banana. I did make blackberry creme brulee. I did paint my nails, then peel the polish off less than 24 hours later. I did lose cellular service for 2 days. Amen.

I have class in 11 hours. Diagnostic Procedures. Where I'll learn the procedures for diagnosing speech & language disorders. Also how to administer and interpret different tests. Holla. Stoked about this class. My level of stoke for this class is surpassed only by my level of stoke for the salad I'm going to blog about tomorrow. Its going to be tasty supreme, so check back.

Or you'll never see me again.

Because I'll kill you.

:)

Tom Hanks pt. 2

It has hit me several times today that this is my last quarter as an undergraduate. My last quarter at Tech, my last quarter having the routine I've known for the past 4 years. My last quarter going to the bookstore to get a vitamin water, and my last quarter blogging in this awkward-smelling library.

But its also my first quarter blogging in said library.

So scratch that one.

I didn't come here today to be sappy or nostalgic. I came here to tell you that I'll be going on a short little blogging hiatus. By short, I really mean short. Like a little over a week. NBD. I'm going on an adventure with my main squeeze tomorrow. It involves mountains, grandparents, delicious food, relaxing, and wedding planning. When I return to the states, I'll have pictures to show you from our trip. I'll have recipes. I'll have giveaways (thats not true) and I'll have important announcements (thats also not true).

Oh, also we're not leaving the states. It just sounded legit. We're just going to Arkansas, people. My fiance will read this post and inform me that half of the content is just me telling lies. And immediately confessing to them. And then I'll explain that its just my style. And then he'll ask me if I'm packed and I'll say no. Because I always wait until 5 minutes prior to leaving to pack my things. Its just my style.

In conclusion, you're probably wondering why I've titled this post 'Tom Hanks pt. 2'. And the reason is because Tom's wife, Rita Wilson, wrote a fabulous article for Harper's Bazaar, and I'm going to post the link to it for you to read. Right here. Read it, its great. She's great. Tom is great. Their kids are great, and their family is one huge cluster of great. I love the Hanks's. Hanks'. Hank's. Hanks. Someone. Help me.

I'll talk to you guys in a week!

PS, you should all make a king cake for Mardi Gras, because homemade king cakes will make your skirt fly up. If you need a tasty recipe for one, here it is. My best gal pal, Brandi, has been making these the past few days and I plan to make one this weekend. Do it. Don't think about it. Do it.

Tom Hanks pt. 1

Have any of you seen this video? Its called Where The Hell Is Matt...apparently its some guy who went to a ton of different places all over the world and danced a goofy jig. I don't know anything else about it, all I know is that sometimes I google what I'm thinking. Once I googled "How come there isn't a cupcake in my mouth right this second?" when I was craving cake. Yesterday I googled "Ways to make your hips smaller without actually doing anything." And just 5 minutes ago I googled "Where the hell is my fiance? His name is Matt." This video came up. Funny. 

I don't actually need google to locate him. I know where he is. He's at his home watching the Oscars and texting me every time a movie or person I love wins. Which is why I love him. Its the only reason, actually. It has nothing to do with the fact that he writes me letters (the old fashioned kind) or teaches me escape strategies in case someone breaks into my house. It has nothing to do with him telling me I'm pretty when my hair is dirty. Or how he asks me questions about the Cyrus family, not because he cares but because he knows I love to talk about them. It has ab.so.lute.ly nothing to do with the fact that he can make me blush just by smiling at me when I'm talking passionately about something ridiculous, and it definitely has nothing to do with the fact that he is my favorite and best and number 1 side kick. Nope, it has nothing to do with any of that stuff. 

On opposite day.

MWAHAHA. 

I 'pologize for being sappy, but sometimes its hard not to. I had a fabulous weekend. I spent it with some of my favorite friends and got to hug quite a few necks. Some of fave necks, in fact. I got to see 2 of my pals get married. I got to eat fancy cheesy potatoes at their rehearsal dinner. I'll never forget those potatoes. And the thing about a fabulous weekend with great people is that Sunday night when its all over, you tend to replay everything in your head. And you get sentimental. You start looking at pictures and remembering when everyone you hung out with lived within minutes of each other. And then you want to find those potatoes from Friday night and eat a whole bunch of them, but then you remember that google search about smaller hips.

Gotta wrap this up, guys. Tom Hanks is about to be on Jimmy Kimmel. And y'all, I love TH. 

Its amazing how much I can get done when I have other more important things to do. Its finals week for me, so here is a list of things I've accomplished today:

• googled images of Rita Wilson.
• peeled every last white speck off of my tangerine.
• googled images of Tom Hanks.
• checked my engagement ring 17,000 times to make sure its still sparkling and hasn't lost any diamonds.
• checked Pioneer Woman's most recent giveaway results twice to make for absolute sure I didn't win the KitchenAid mixer.
• looked up recipes on TasteSpotting.
• pushed the buttons down on my sonic drink lid.
• googled Colin Hanks's new baby.
• texted my bff, Brandi, things like, "What have you eaten today?" and "Why is stuff so weird?" and "Tell me everything you like and dislike."
• read her long responses (she never questions me).
• ate a peppermint

Tonight I will attempt a good, long run. First of all, the weather is awesome. Secondly, tomorrow I have to run for my friend's dissertation research. All I know is it has to do with iPods and hearing and running. And I get to have my hearing tested before and after I run. In the scary sound booth. And anyway, I don't want to embarrass myself, so I decided to start training the day before the event. Because I like to stay on top of things. Its just my nature. 

I also plan to watch NBC's Parenthood tonight at 10/9 central. 

I wish I had a cool new recipe to post. But I haven't cooked in forever. I suck. If you're wanting some recipe ideas, visit Brandi's blog. I linked her above. She just posted a cinnamon toast method that looks crazy delish, or "mad D" as she likes to say. Enjoy your week, folks!

Hold on to your panties, I'm posting twice in one week. First I'd like to wish everyone a very happy Thursday. As you all probably already know, tonight was the premiere of Britney's video for her new single Hold It Against Me. If you're friends with me on facebook, you'll notice I posted the video. What a night. What a video. What a gal. What a song.

I should back up...to about 5th grade...the year I bought her first (and my first) compact disc. Oh man, I remember it like it was yesterday. Walking through WalMart after church one afternoon. My dad dragging us all to the electronics section so he could get some kind of cable for his video recorder (can't remember if thats true or not, but we'll go with it for the imagery), mom 9 months pregnant ready to burst (again...imagery...), and me. Little Katie. Vulnerable as they come. I happened to spy a CD with a cute little gal, sitting on her legs, smiling at the camera. Pink backdrop. Pinkish shirt. Long hair. White teeth. Denim skirt.

"Hey, dad, I think thats the girl from VH1 that I like!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, dad. Can you buy me this flat donut that will play her songs?"

"Guh, you stoopit."

Ok, no. None of this is true. I ordered her CD from one of those '3 CDs a month' magazines or something. It is true that I first knew about her courtesy of VH1. I would get so pissed when I'd get home from school only to catch the last few seconds of her music video, ...Baby One More Time. Me being a Catholic school girl and all, I arrived home from school every day in the proper attire, and ready to dance along with her. But before YouTube, you were at the mercy of someone far, far away.

Life was hard.

I'd like to skip ahead to the point. I've never stopped loving her. I am truly her number 1 fan. I've got calendars, posters, stickers, laundry bags, books, every album, did I mention posters? I love Brit. We go way back. I know every single one of her songs. Every word, every sigh. She's the reason I'm so excellent at lip syncing. And if you didn't know that I was excellent at lip syncing, now you do. I learned in front of my mirror to her first 3 albums in the home my parents recently moved from. I don't brag about much, guys. But I can fool you into thinking its me singing instead of B. Take it to your grave.

I don't know what "take it to your grave" means, or why its a saying that exists. Regardless, I'll keep throwing it around when I see fit.

But seriously, we should all take something weird to our graves to confuse future archaeologists.

Like other animals' bones. Like horse bones. Or like tusks from something. Wouldn't that be so funny? No? Wait, is anyone still reading? Oh, I lost you at "Britney"?

At least I know Bonnie is still reading. Britney fanz 4 lyfe.

Warning: Long!

First & foremost, friends, I apologize for going on a hiatus without warning. What started off as a little something called "I ain't got nothin' to say" ended with another little something called "Holy guacamole, I'm not equipped to process the weekend I've just had, much less organize my thoughts into a well-flowing blog post." And looking back on what I've just typed (because surely there ARE words that sum up those feelings), I'm still not sure I've processed the awesomeness that was my weekend.

Or maybe I just need a larger lexicon.

Rewinding back to Friday. I had a lunch date with my hot & spicy bearded boyfriend at my very fav restaurant here in Ruston, Louisiana. Its called RAW, and their cucumber wraps are amazing, although most of my friends have the same reaction when I force one down their pie hole: "Meh. Yeah, no, I mean its good. Its just...meh" to which I typically respond with "BAOBAGAUFAGHGWOG?!" to which they typically respond with "You're weird" to which I typically respond with "Try another bite."

But they don't.

After I ate lunch Friday with a very fidgety boyfriend, we walked across the street to a little destination known to some (or everyone) as Railroad Park, and after a few minutes of convincing me to walk down the steps without looking down (I didn't know if he was pranking me with snakes or something, am I right?!), I turned around at his command and saw this:

When I turned back around, the boy was on his knee holding this little number:

(This is the best picture of the ring I have at this point...it was taken by him a few days before the proposal and sent to everyone I've ever known.)

To which I responded:

Followed by lots of questions, like "You asked my parents?! When?" and "Is that ring for me?!" and "Are you tricking me?" and "Is this a joke?" and "Who all knew?"

The patient man that he is answered all of my questions, still on one knee, then reminded me that I hadn't yet said yes. So I said yes. And now we're engaged and I have a fiance and I'm getting married! :)

Friends with cameras popped up from behind trash cans, climbed down from rooftops, parachuted down from the sky, appeared out of thin air, things like that. I'm so thankful to have those moments captured. I will not post all the pictures on here, because obvi I've still got tons to talk about, but here are just a few:

Sigh. What a weekend, right? I should be out of cool things to say at this point, right? Wrong. A creative and awesome proposal just wasn't enough for me to sleep on. No, I had to go with two of my very favorite friends (Krista & Stephanie) to see my 2nd favorite pop sensation (Justin Bieber) in his new movie entitled Justin Bieber: Never Say Never.

And, you guys?

Hands down, best movie I've ever seen in my entire life.

Maybe not, I mean I really love Steel Magnolias and Britney Spears: Live in Hawaii (VHS), but I did genuinely love love love JB's flick. I mean, I didn't cry or anything, but it was great.

Ok, I cried twice. But I was freshly engaged! Super emotional! I'm definitely going to see it again in theaters because I left with tingles all over my body. And I want those tingles back, baby.

That night my pretty & sweet friend, Stephanie, and I cooked a Pioneer Woman dinner in honor of Valentine's Day for our boys. We made Bowtie Lasagna with her chocolate sheet cake for dessert. So good and perfect and fun.

If this were the end to my weekend, I'd have been the happiest girl there ever was. But there is more.

Monday my fiance drove me to Dallas to meet my idol, The Pioneer Woman. She was having a book signing for her new love story, From Black Heels to Tractor Wheels, at Borders where there were over 3 million fans. I mean, I have no way of knowing if thats true or not, but its definitely true. We stood in line for hours, and finally, we met her. :)

I am still on a high from this trip. You guys, I have loved this woman since I first started reading her blog and making her recipes a year or so ago. Not only did we get to meet her, but also her husband (Marlboro Man) and her munchkins that were running around all over the place. I could drag it out into a long story, because trust me, I turned every single moment of eye contact into a huge event, but I will save it.

I just need it to be known that:

• I have a sparkly diamond ring that I can't stop looking at.
• I have a handsome bearded fiance that I wish I could hug right now.
• My toes are purple.
• I'm thirsty.
• I have a wedding to plan.
• I miss P-Dub.
• My hair is dirty.
• I'm so happy.
• My hair is really dirty.

I think I'll go text my fiance that I think he's handsome and remind him of how much I loved Justin Bieber's movie and maybe suggest walking down the aisle to Never Let You Go. I love you, friends!

Chick-noodz (not a recipe).

"I'm not being whatever or whatever, I'm just saying." Sorry if you're confused. I had to share. I heard this today on my way to my advisor's office. It left my mind 100% boggled. I'd like to break it down at this time if I may. Ok, so we've got a foundation for a pretty legit situation. This sentence contains:

• Character conflict
• Climax
• Resolution

Contrary to what others obvi think, the subject, I, is not being whatever, nor is she being whatever. That is our character conflict.

There is major climax when she says "I'm just..." because you don't know what she's "just" doing. You want to know, and you can't figure it out. Until she puts the audience out of its misery and says...

"...saying."

Lawd hammercy. I thought I'd pass out waiting to hear what she was "just" doing. She was only saying. You guys. Breathe. Thats over.

On a positive, less sarcastic/less a-hole/less moody note, my belly is really happy right now. Before I get into why, let me apologize for the bad photo quality your eyes will soon meet. You see, my AshKutchCam (that's what I've named my new digital camera) is in my bedroom. And I am typing this from my kitchen three rooms away. Its a distance I'm not prepared to journey. So I resort to my iPhone 3G, folks. Deal w/. I've been sickly & pathetic-looking going on 4 days now. Today has been better, but I've still got fever & sniffles. And apparently I'm still whining about it. Surprise. My very good & dear friend, who just so happens to share my name (my name is Katie), delivered this sick kit to me:

We've got Gatorade, a bendy straw, Kleenex with lotion (perf for my red nose that hates me dead for using toilet paper so frequently), HOMEMADE (you heard me) chicken noodle soup, crackers, Valentine's day cookies (still warm), and two mags. YBYA I teared up when I took this pic. Partly because I'm an Emotional Emily today (and every day), but mostly because this is THE perfect sick kit, and it makes me happy to have friends that will bring me these things when I feel like cr*p. My sentimental sweep of emotion disappeared when I began eating the soup.

First of all, Katie is a nutrition major, so she used whole wheat noodles. Second of all, Katie is a nutrition major, so she explained to me that I was experiencing fluid depletion or something, and that it was important to something something. And I believed her. Not just because she's my friend, but also because she's my GIL. GIL stands for girlfriend-in-law. We weren't really sure how to label our relationship at first, you know? She's my boyfriend's sister, I'm her brother's girlfriend. Life can get tangled, so we made a name for it. GIL. And all that means is I have all the more reason to trust her and take her advice so that my fluids don't something something and my body stays something.

Wednesday nights can be tricky when you're sick and/or drugged. But if you're lucky, your friend or GIL or sister or brother or mother or whatever will bring you presents that make you feel better. And then you'll test your sense of smell by taking a huge whiff of some old mittens you found under your bed, and you'll regret it. And then you'll blog about it because you're Nyquil intoxicated. And then you'll wrap it up, because you're slowly realizing that no one is reading at this point. Goodnight!

Super Bowl 45 & Pop-Tarts.

Most of you know my passion for football. This time every year I get hounded with requests for another one of my famous Super Bowl predictions. This year is no different; my inbox is full of them. Will it be the Steelers or the Packers who take it home this time? Hard to say, friends. I mean, Sanchez & Flacco are awesome, but then there's Rodgers and...

I have to tell you something. I don't really know anything about football. I was just trying to reach a larger audience so I started googling, and that got out of hand, and I'm sorry.

I made homemade pop-tarts this weekend. My boyfriend poked his finger in the middle of one creating a large crater, thus ruining the pop-tart's image and my entire existence. But then he took me to see The King's Speech & bought me a Sonic drink and I was happy again. But then I came down with a fierce cold, and I'm back to being not happy again. But I don't blame him (obvi), I blame all the babies I licked on the head last week. Anyway, strawberry pop-tarts.

These look delicious, don't they. Thats not a question, by the way. They look delicious. You want to eat one. You want to make these in the morning for your loved ones because they're so yummy. These are really easy, people. I'm going to tell you how to make them. You'll need these things:

For the pie crust:

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 sticks of butter (unsalted) cut into small pieces
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• 4-6 teaspoons ice water

For the icing:

• 1 cup confectioner's sugar
• 2 tablespoons milk
• half teaspoon of vanilla, baby
• some pretty sprinkles

Listen to me. You can fill these puppies with whatever blows your whistle. You can use nutella, cinnamon & brown sugar, strawberry jam, blueberry, blackberry, appleberry, anything. Whatever you decide on, you're going to need about 1 tablespoon of it per poptart. Or if you're like me, you'll just spread it on and measure it with your eyeball. Because it really doesn't matter. Its going to taste delicious. I used strawberry jam. MAJ DELISH.

So what you'll do is put your flour, sugar, & salt in a food processor and pulse it a little to get it all incorporated. Then slowly add in your butter pieces a little at a time until the mixture resembles bread crumbs. Then add in your ice water a tablespoon at a time until it looks like moist breadcrumbs.

Remove it from the food processor, & knead all of that together a little. Just so that it looks like pie crust.

Then split it in half, flatten each half into a disc shape, cling wrap it, and let it hang in the fridge for about an hour, but no more than 3 days.

When you're ready to make these, set your oven to 350 & roll out each disc to about 13x11 inches. 

Cut some squares out. It doesn't matter if they're perfect. I promise you can't screw it up at this point. Put some filling onto a square, and top it with another square. Kind of squish the ends together to seal, then use the tines of the fork to double seal the ends (and to give it that pop-tart look). Poke some holes in the top with a toothpick, or else you'll get a pop-tart that looks 9 months pregnant, and your boyfriend will poke it with his grubby pointer finger, crack up a little, then go watch the X Games. So you really don't want to skip this part. Toothpick your poppytart. 

Pop them in the oven and let them cook for about 15ish minutes. You'll know when they're done, they'll be slightly brown and tasty-looking. I'm starting to think I'm not awesome at food blogging. I don't give specific instructions. I'll get better, I promise. Ok, there's no way I can make that kind of promise. 

To make the icing whisk together the milk, vanilla, and powdered sugar. Ice the pop-tarts once they've cooled for a little bit. Then sprinkle on some tasty sprinkles. They're going to be delicious and beautiful. 

These were fun to make, I hope you make them soon. And if you don't want to make them but still want to eat them, let me know. I'll make you some. 

Nutella Croissants!

Today I experienced my very first mistake. Ever. In life. I accidentally bought PUFF pastry instead of regular pie crust sheets. I know what you're thinking..."You shouldn't be buying any kind of pastry! You're supposed to be making things from scratch, you disgusting woman!" Ok, maybe not that last part. At least I hope not. I'm definitely not disgusting. Ok, I'm kind of disgusting, I haven't washed my hair since-- so I bought the wrong kind of pastry. My plan was to make homemade pop-tarts, but due to the puff pastry situation, I decided to go with Nutella croissants (and just make the pop-tarts this weekend...WITH homemade pie crust, people). These croissants were so simple to make and called for a measly 2 ingredients: puff pastry & Nutella. Get ready. Hold on to your panties. Hold on to them.

ATTN: Sorry for not having a picture for every step of the way, I haven't yet obtained a memory card for my camera, so I'm working with a 6 picture limit here.

First, let your puff pastry thaw and cut each sheet into 6 squares. I'd explain how to do that, but I'm so totally sure you can figure that out, that I won't.
Next, cut those 6 squares in half diagonally into triangles. You will now have 12 triangles total. If you haven't figured it out by now, my math score for the GRE was EXTREMELY high. Thats not true. Moving along.
Spread a tablespoon of Nutella on each pastry triangle, then roll them up from the wide part to the little tippy part. Understand? Then make them look like big tortellini (or baby crabs...howev you see it) by making each one "hold hands" or...you know...mashing the ends together. Good grief, this is rough. Here's a picture of what it should look like on your cookie sheet.

Perfect. Once you've accomplished the tasks of spreading and rolling and pinching, pop these puppies into the oven at 350 for 10-12 minutes, or until golden brown & smelling good.

They're easy & tasty & not very healthy. You'll love them! And I didn't dirty my kitch making them, which is always a good thing. Happy day after my birthday to you all! I'm 22 now, so I ate 22 chocolate croissants. Thats not true. My hair is 22 days dirty though. Thats not true either. But close enough. One thing is absolutely true: I'm weird 22% (+78%) of the time. So have a happy rest of the week. :)

Warning: You Will Drool.

Top of the muffin to you! And indeed, today has been the tip top of the most decadent muffin ever baked. The first reason being that I'm forever done taking the dreaded GRE. Today I took it for the second and final time, and I couldn't be more relieved. The second reason I'm comparing this dreary, rainy Monday to a delicious breakfast food is because tomorrow is my birthday, which is a pretty freaking big deal around this house. We get the kids up around 4:30 and give them specific instructions on how I want my breakfast in bed this year. The reason we get them up so early is because it takes them hours to perfect it. Last year I sent them downstairs 8 times to try again. They never did quite nail the quiche, but I got so antsy around 3 pm that I told them, "Screw it" and ate it as was.

Nope, thats not true. I don't have children. I'm only 22, man. 

As an early birthday present, my best gal pal (Brandi R. Roberts, known to me as "B" or "Bran"), drove to my home and delivered this:

THIS, my friends, is a butterfinger banana cake with peanut butter cream cheese frosting. OH. MY. GOD. It is so delicious. You see, B is an outstanding baker of treats. She has collected fabulous & fancy kitchen gadgets over the past couple of years, and loves to bake delicious desserts for special occasions. You'd think this would be more than enough of a birthday surprise, but in fact, she also presented me with a brand new already seasoned cast iron skillet (been wanting one so bad!) and a double boiler. I'm so excited! I love getting kitchen supplies. 

The legit cake pictured above was captured with another one of my birthday surprises. My parents got me a digital camera (the Nikon that Ashton Kutcher endorses?) and said to me, "Quit taking crappy pictures with your iPhone and make something of that bogus blog of yours!" And so I will. PS, they didn't say that to me. In fact, they didn't say anything to me. I'm not even sure if that camera was intended for me, I just found a taped up Amazon box hidden in my mother's closet and assumed it was mine. Life goes on.

I made homemade spaghetti & meatballs this weekend, and had full intentions of posting the pictures + recipe, however it didn't occur to me that I was the one responsible for taking the pictures until I was biting into my second meatball. Too late. Sorry to flake out, I'm new at blogging. Check back with me this week for a homemade pop-tart recipe. I won't let you down.

HAPPS MLK!

You know what I liked about the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.? His style. He always looked sharp. Totally had that non-violent demeanor. Smile lines. You know what I'm talking about?

There aren't many people today like MLK. Probably because he got popped for using his voice. What a guy, though. Look at him. JUST LOOK AT HIM.

source

In honor of this fabulous man, I set out to achieve a few goals of my own today - the nonviolent way. The goals I accomplished pale in comparison to achieving racial equality for millions of Americans, but that won't stop me from gabbing about them. Nothing ever does. Here we go:

• Ate a bowl of frosted rice krispies.
• Used a magic eraser to clean my kitch countertops.
• Picked my toes.
• Read a celeb diet magazine (fave).
• Painted a little Bite No More on my nails.
• Picked said Bite No More off my nails.
• Reapplied Bite No More a second time.
• Reorganized my K-cups in my coffee drawer.
• Counted my cellulite.

Ok, none of these activities were goals I set out to accomplish PER SE (except eating cereal). But its all I got. My real goal is to have my first recipe posted by the end of the week. Keep in touch.

QT.

This guy. WHAT a guy. I'll tell you what I like about this one right here. He is like a master nap taker, especially in cars. He can fall asleep instantly, and its beautiful, you know what I mean? No drooling, no obvious discomfort, just clean peaceful snoozing. Amazing. Impressive. Other adjectives.

But then there's this:

I have a tiny & completely rational fear of insects. I know what they're capable of, and this time of year they are in our homes searching for warmth, but only the warmth that human blood can provide. So shake your sheets. Check your boots. Check your ballet flats. Check all your shoes, man. Or else.

"Or else what?"

Or else death. Try to have a good weekend. 

Did it hurt? When you fell from the ugly tree?

My blog is sort of under construction. I've hired my roommate who has a Ph.D. in web design, jewelry making, AND wardrobe styling (not true, but kind of) to make it look legit. I feel that if it looks fancy and sophisticated and professional, I won't neglect it the way I have past blogs. Maybe next time you visit, assuming you will (please like me), it will look really fresh, really hip. I've got big plans for this blog. My ultimate goal is for it to be THE place to visit for every single one of your needs. All of you. All 2 of you. Need ramblings? I've got plenty. Need to see pictures? I'll google some. Need to find out about viral YouTube videos months after everyone else already knows about them? I'm your gal. Need tour dates? I'm not on tour. Need frozen waffles? I'll tell you why you don't. Need a homemade pie? Put your order in, I'll make you one. I'm serious, I'm desperate to bake things for people. I'm dealing with the post-holiday blues, and thats how I cope. Baking things. Not eating them, just baking them and giving them away. Okay, and eating them, damn.
My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving. I love it most for several reasons. The most obvious being that there aren't mythical characters associated with it (except Indians). I like cooking, I don't mind absurd amounts of food, I'm into Charlie Brown, & I enjoy giving thanks. If any of you feel the same as me about the holidays and are mourning the times, give a shout. I'll make you something tasty.
Happy Wednesday, everyone! If you just HAVE to drink and drive tonight, please remember to drive as fast as you can so you can get off the roads asap! HERE TO HELP.

My first.

This is an embarrassing first post. I cannot blog today. If I do, it will be over saturated with sentimentality. I will gab for paragraphs about how happy I am, how clean my kitchen is today, and inevitably at some point mention Amy Grant. Its not a good night for me. Tomorrow is better. Please come back!