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!