if dreams were lightning & thunder was desire, this old house would have burnt down a long time ago.

alarm
snooze
alarm
stretch
touch dog
kiss husband
covers back
curtains back
sunshine, if lucky
stumble to bathroom
brush teeth
fix hair
fix hair again
wipe off mascara smudges
swipe lip balm
stumble back to bedroom
pull on jeans
find clean tshirt
pet dog again
kiss husband again
don't lay down...don't do it.
watch news for weather
make coffee
pull on shoes
put on coat
wrap scarf cozily
pack up purse, laptop
out the door, push back kitty
walk 5 blocks
say hi to woman on corner
wait for train
wait more
really? still waiting.
read a book
drink my coffee
watch other commuters
force eyes to stay open
eyes are closing, eyes...are...clo-
OPEN THOSE EYES
switch trains
hold on tight
ignore germs
get off train
climb stairs, so many stairs
catch breath
walk 4 blocks
stop for a muffin
chat about weather
yes, it IS windy!
take elevator up
come into work
wash hands

and then my day starts.




i need to start blogging daily.
right now i'm just working on forming the habit.
Dear My Metabolism,
Please catch up. you're lagging. it'd be nice if you could maybe make up for lost time but putting in a little overtime this week. Thank you.
Love,
Katie's tummy and lovehandles.

Dear Lucy the Cat,
It's cute how you always have to be in my lap the second I sit down, but please do not attempt this when there is already a laptop there. It's frustrating. Forigive me? i still think you're pretty.
Love,
your crappy mom

Dear My Motivation,
See letter to Metabolism
Love,
All those blogs and recipes that have yet to be posted

Dear Skinny Girls,
Eat a cheeseburger.
You're making me look bad.
Hate,
Katie Katie Cupcake Lady

Dear Katie,
Please start using your imagination and creative abilities more. You are wasting a ridiculous amount of talent and potential due to your excessive laziness.
Love,
All Katie's unwritten prose.

Dear Fashion World,
Please make me a dress to wear for my friends wedding on Friday. Let it be perfectly me, and just my size, and cost one quarter. And let it arrive on my doorstep, because I do not have time to go hunt for it.
Love,
sophistiKatie

Dear Danny Gokey,
You are my American Idol.
I think you are handsome, but don't tell Husbear. He might get jealous.
Love <33,
Katie

Dear Springtime,
Please also reference the letter addressed to my metabolism.
Love,
Katie's severe Seasonal Affective Disorder and constant yearning for sunshine.

Dear Oreos,
GET AWAY FROM ME. DONT THINK I CANT HEAR YOU TAUNTING ME.
Hate,
the same things that wrote the letter to my metabolism.
(ps don't take it personally. you are irresistable for a reason.)

I watched this tonight and wept with youthful joy.
I'm sad my birthday isn't until August.
This is what I plan on doing when I turn 25 in 4 1/2 months.

Who says growing up means you can't still be a child at heart?

(Husbear is out of town for the week, so I'm emotional. Bear with me.)
Today at work, we are teaching Miles the "cry it out" method of falling asleep for naptime.
It seems has has gotten wuiote used to be tightly swaddled and rocked to sleep with the tip of my pointer finger in his mouth. he does not take a pacifier of any sort, and does not suck his thumb.
this has unfortunately and frustratingly affected his ability to fall asleep in the middle of the night after waking himself up with a giant fart. (or toot, if you please.)

so right now, he is laying in his crib, staying oddly quiet, because it seems the sound of my typiong is soothing to him. this is the first time he has calmed himself in a half hour. so i'm just going ot keep on typing. about anything and everything.

today is going to be a very long day, i think.
i woke up this morning to my alarm, which seemed more blaring than usual, and it woke me from a very deep and comfortable sleep.
as i hurried to get ready, i noticed a funny smell coming from my purse, and figured i would inspect it on the subway on the way to work.
it seems my stipid terrible horrible b word of a cat peed in my purse. soaking everything, including my wallet.
what a rotten thing to do, in my opinion. see if she gets any wet food for a long, long time.
so the ride to work was decent, considering it was one of those mornings when dan's classes conincide with my work schedule and we get to ride into work together, holding hands. but when i kissed him goodbye at my stop and got off the train, i saw, much to my dismay, that the up escalator was out of order. the down was working perfectly, of course. but i do not need the down. i need the up. otherwise i havce to walk 5 flights of very steep stairs. which i had to do.
my legs were burning at the top. welcome to new york.

so i get to work, and find that i do not actually have tomorrow off. which really isnt a big deal, i just need to help mama with miles at the pediatrician's office, and i still get to sleep in. okay, i can handle this.

and then i remembered: to day is cry it out day. so he is doing that.
and i kind of want to, too.



...oh my word. he might be asleep.


he is.
whew.



now im going to go into the living room and think about everything good in my life, and turn this day right around.
i have no room in my life for negativity.
i just called customer service at Tiffany and they told me they have one ring left in stock at the New York store.
It's my size.
When it's sold, the ring is considered discontinued.

Tomorrow i'm going to go try it on.
Just because.
I deserve to wear it once before i wave goodbye to it.

i believe i'll have it one day, though it may not come to me in a Tiffany blue box.
i'll just keep the picture, and take it to a jeweler, and tell them to make one justlikeit.

but tomorrow i'm going to wear it for a minute and pretend it's all mine. if they let me, i'll even snap a picture for you.





it's a shame i don't have $6,000 lying around.
...i'm dying to be in a burlesque show one day.

before it's too late.





i'd keep it tasteful, i promise.







also, i wish Husbear liked it when i wear red lipstick.
i'd wear it every day.
Photobucket

also, i got my hair done at arrojo studio 2 weeks ago. she really just gave me a glaze to give my hair an almost lavender sheen.
this is the result.

i am tres pleased with the final product!
hard to believe this time last year, i was dark auburn.
and planning my wedding. (just 20 days until our first anniversary! this year has been wild and fast.)
Why is it so overwhelming to update this thing?

My life is not so exciting that I race to the computer to pour forth fountains of stories and anecdotes from my days.
but it is not so quiet or dull that I have nothing to share.

I have a great deal to share.

I love my job.
I love.
My job.
I'm so crazy about little Miles.
He's the most precious little nugget in the universe and he has seized my whole heart in his tiny little fingers and squeezed it so hard honey is practically spilling out.
Photobucket
just look at those eyes!

Today, he wasn't feeling well.
About a week ago, his doctor decided that he might be allergic to cow's milk protein, so he was switched to soy formula for when i'm there, and his mama is on a strict no-dairy diet for when she breastfeeds.
Well, something was still wrong, if not more wrong, because where he used to just spit up all the time and have crazy gas, now he is vomiting. A lot. Everything he consumes.
So it looks like he's off the soy formula, and mama and papa now have to shell out crazy dough for this fancy hypoallergenic formula, WHICH he of course hated and then proceeded to launch all down the back of my sweater and into huge puddles on the floor.
Poor little guy.
Poor little tum.

I hope we figure this out soon.
He's such a darling when he's happy. Who doesn't want every tiny baby to be happy??

Anyway, this was a very funny way of telling you how much i love my job.
But the point is, i got puked on and i didn't mind.
i love my job because I love the family i work for and I love the baby i care for and I love the apartment we play in and the neighborhood we walk in. I love it so much that string of baby vomit don't phase me one tiny bit.


The other great part about my job is that I actually have the energy to bake when i get home, and clean my house on the weekends. This is a very big deal to me.
I'm practicing being a good little housewife for when my husband is a doctor man and i get to make my home look pretty and keep our tummies full of delicious treats.
This might be the opposite of what every feminist wishes for me, but it's what my heart wants, more than anything in the world.
I want to be a wonderful mama, a loving wife, and a "maker of art and dinner", to borrow a phrase from Ms. Suaviloquy.

It's so close, i can smell it. In fact, I can even see the pies cooling on the windowsill...