tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66660424263064086722024-03-13T10:02:19.847-07:00the biggest little adventureUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-35876466163510049692011-11-02T10:37:00.001-07:002011-12-06T13:27:35.462-08:00happy movember!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-26518878274975935382011-10-18T08:35:00.000-07:002011-10-18T08:35:42.638-07:00i'm in a teen daze<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<object style="height: 390px; width: 540px;"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tHEpoMalW4c?version=3">
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i don't know about other dads you've met. but this is my dad. </div>
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so you don't stand a chance. </div>
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-77508674266036276622011-10-11T14:31:00.000-07:002011-10-11T14:36:41.225-07:00the story of little noodle<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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yesterday, as i was walking into my garden level apartment, i heard tiny cat cries down the hallway. i stuck my keys in my pocket and walked into the downstairs entryway. the nervous mews were coming from behind wooden boards that were leaning up against the wall. i made a little clicking noise and boom! a little grey cat came running out to greet me. skinny, white paws and a little white dollup on the end of her tail.<br />
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after crouching down to pet her for a bit, i stood up and said "well, little noodle! what ever am i going to do with you?" thinking the cat must've belonged to someone in my building, i started walking up the steps to knock on some doors in search of her owner. little noodle followed me up each set of stairs, walking alonside me and purring by my feet whenever i stopped. at one point she walked back down the stairs, but when she stopped to look up at me, i said "come on!" and she pranced back up them to join me at my side. four empty apartments and one "not ours" later, noodle and i walked back downstairs. i saw a girl getting ready to do her laundry, but she said the cat wasn't hers. that she and her boyfriend had seen noodle outside the night before and an old man from our building said the cat had been around for a few days. someone must've let her in.<br />
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i wondered what to do with noodle for about two seconds, before i just gave in. "fine noodle, you can stay." after that, it was just a matter of wrangling my friend kelly into going on a cat shopping spree. kell has always hated cats...but i think she must be developing a soft spot for my little bundle of lost love. thanks for all your help last night "auntie kelly." :)<br />
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so here we are. just me and noodle. and after one night with her, i can tell you this cat is loud, curious and loves to cuddle. so, yes, what i'm saying is: we're two peas in a pod.<br />
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i know that, being as domestic as she is, she probably did have a home. i'm going to have to post "found" signs around the neighborhood in the next few days to make sure she doesn't belong to some sweet old lady. still, a little part of me hope she's mine for keeps.<br />
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ps - how strange is it that all this happened the same day my friend from work posted this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQhpMAekHEY&feature=relmfu">video</a>. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-40632786391982649362011-10-07T12:14:00.000-07:002011-10-07T13:28:52.646-07:00WEEO<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
my good friend ju-ju-bee has this big dream to start a women's group called weeo: women empowering each other. she has an anthem picked out and everything. she wants to start it because the sad truth is, not enough women love other women.<br />
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not enough of us remember that a win for one woman is a win for all women. we let our insecurities rule and our emotions get the best of us. we are mean girls instead of cheerleaders. jealous instead of supportive. foes instead of friends. we are taught to think that anything one woman has or gets only takes away from what we have a shot at. we are bombarded with reminders that this is a competition - for men, for jobs, and for other people's mental space ("do they think i'm the prettiest one? the funniest one? i can't believe they think she's smarter than me..."). but that is not the way it has to be. and it's not the way i want to be.<br />
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it's high time we put away our sass, our negativity and our fear.<br />
<b>we are on the same team</b> and it's about time we all start acting like it.<br />
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if she's better at you than something, learn from her.<br />
if she's nicer than you, follow her lead.<br />
if she's got a better job than you, ask her for advice.<br />
if she's funnier than you, stop being mad and just join in on the fun.<br />
if she's prettier than you, i don't know... get up earlier and do your damn hair.<br />
if her body is better than yours, she's annoying ;) just kidding! go with her to the gym.<br />
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the point is: there is always going to be someone who's better than you at something.<br />
but you're the only one who can be the best you. you are special. and just because another woman<br />
is, too, doesn't mean you're not anymore. and if there's a woman in your life who is bringing you down, you need to move on. because, i guarantee that in your lifetime, you are going to run into women who just don't get it. you are going to be face to face with a woman hater. it might be your sister, your friend or someone you barely even know. but whoever she is, she has no place in your life.<br />
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if there's a woman hater in your life, ditch her. go find a group of ladies who will pick you up, tell you're great and take you out for mojitos. those ladies are out there. and they're awesome. and if you are the woman hater, girlfriend, i just have to tell you that your life does not have to be this way. you need to just get over it. we've all been a woman hater before. for small things, for big things, sometimes for split seconds and sometimes for too long. it has just got to stop.<br />
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there are women out there who can fill our lives with joy. and they want to love us, for no other reason than the fact that we're women and we're in this together. so let them love you. ok?<br />
<br />
in honor of weeo, here are a few hilarious excerpts from <a href="http://theconcernsofmindykaling.com/prelude">mindy kaling's</a> new book is <i>everyone hanging out without me</i>:<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-84623661507197201632011-10-05T15:05:00.000-07:002011-10-05T15:06:11.115-07:00holy, hannah! it's october!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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gee-golly-gollerson! where has the time gone!? it's already fall - i can barely believe it! i am getting beyond bonkers excited for this weekend, because i'm going to the city (not whitney port's, people. i'm talkin' minneapolis). for what you ask? well, i'd be delighted to tell you!<br />
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my sweet friend<a href="http://biggestlittleadventure.blogspot.com/2011/03/other-people-are-cool-too-kenzie.html"> kenzie</a> - you remember her, yes? i'm happy to report that she is travelling through these parts for her twenty-sixth birthday! so, my friends cassie & rayna & i will be waking up on the bright-and-earlies on saturday to celebrate with that cute little miss. we'll be going to the shouthouse, a fun little dueling pianos joint in downtown. if you have the chance - check it. you will not be disappointed. swearzies.<br />
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in honor of this impending trip, here are some delicious pictures from other twin cities' area funspots: red wing shoe store (home of the biggest leather boot in the world! helloooo!), punch pizza and, of course, anywhere that my sweet superbro andrew is! no, really - we call him "superbro"...he's that awesome.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-63703767275895457422011-10-04T10:51:00.000-07:002011-10-04T14:06:15.980-07:00and we're back<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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at the ripe old age of 25, i find it's easy to feel restless and unsure, hoping for an idea of where to go and what to do next. it wasn't the same at 18. when i started college at msum. then, i was exactly where i wanted to be, with everyone i wanted to be with, excited for the world in front of me. every single day was full of wonderment, and exploration of the future was my only responsibility.<br />
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that's the hard thing about growing up...it's everything you thought you were looking forward to, but it's not what you expected. it's full of responsibility (or what i will now refer to as "freedom's enemy"). <br />
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it was a welcome break to be reunited with old friends this weekend. because, for me, reminiscence is seeing the past through rose-colored glasses. and being with my first friends from college was an instant switch back to that mentality, to place where i have one foot on my favorite memories and one foot on edge of everything that life has to offer.<br />
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that must be why i adore weddings so much. because the only thing in the air is the assurance that your future will be full of happiness, love and of possibility.<br />
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and ain't that the sweetest smell there is.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-28464524081997322852011-10-03T13:47:00.000-07:002011-10-03T13:57:03.942-07:00gettin' real with paul<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">This weekend I went to my friend and former roomie Mike's wedding (pictures to come!). And, as has happened a few times during my circuit of wild wedding weekends, I was asked to read the ol' standby: part of Paul's letter to the Corinthians. And</span> I have to tell you guys, no matter how many times I read it, that little snippet always, always, always just gets to me. </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I can feel you giving me eye rolls and oh-that-agains right now. But, honestly, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">whether </span>you think it's cheesy or overplayed or obnoxious and whether you revere the Bible or scoff at its existence, you have to admit that Paul's definition of love is legit. It's my favorite. Especially the beginning. Because that kind of love is no joke. And that it's not easy. Then on top of that, Paul's all "Hey lady, now don't forget! You're supposed to offer that kind of love fully...and constantly...and to everyone."</div>
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Yeesh! Sometimes I can't help but be like "Paul, seriously, is this a joke?<br />
Who do you think you are? I barely even<i> like</i> this person and you're all up in<br />
my business telling me I need to <i>love</i> them?" </div>
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And Paul's all, "Um, yes." </div>
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And there I am, back in my place. Right where he put me. </div>
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Dang you, Paul. </div>
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I'm not talking about this verse to be preachy. </div>
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I'm talking about it because it makes me think. </div>
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What does it make you think? </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">1 corinthians 13:1-13</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;">but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><b> </b></span>If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Love is patient, love is kind. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. </span></span></div>
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It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, </div>
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it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. </div>
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Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. </div>
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It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.</div>
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Love never fails. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-16317933564073180812011-09-23T09:18:00.000-07:002011-09-23T09:18:52.776-07:00free yo' mind fridays<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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When who you are isn't enough for someone, try killing them with kindness.<br />
That's what my grandma would say. And my mom. And my first grade teacher, I'm sure.<br />
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But you know what they would also say? If that doesn't work, all you can do is<br />
wish that someone the best and kick 'em to the curb. Well, they might not say<br />
"kick 'em to the curb." I'm pretty sure it's just because of the generational gap, though.<br />
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Life is too short to be anything but yourself.<br />
Especially when other people think you are awesome.<br />
Which, you obviously are. (see: brotip #1)<br />
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So, here's hoping you take your kick*ss self<br />
and have a fantastic weekend.<br />
You deserve it. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-72253575306354517642011-09-18T15:03:00.000-07:002011-09-18T15:03:44.174-07:00paintball<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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dearest friends, haaaave you ever played paintball? i played for the first time this week with a few coworkers and, i have to say, it. was. a. BLAST.</div>
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i mean, really. who knew that getting pelted with tiny balls of paint could be so fun?<br />
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after work on thursday, we carpooled to the middle of nowhere. just when i thought those gravel roads were about to lead us to a csi crime scene, we arrived at this little field set up with cable spools, doors and other things to hide behind. a paintball warzone. for nearly three hours we played various paintball games including capture the flag and gettysburg - in which your group stands in two lines, 50 feet apart, facing each other red rover style. you have one chance to shoot a person across from you and, if you don't yourself get hi, you take a step forward if you don't get hit, only to repeat the stand-off at closer range.<br />
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looking at the bruises on the inside of my legs, i'm not sure why i'd recommend this self-abuse. But, for some reason, chasing other people around like a sniper, knowing that you're about to get "killed" yourself, is a fantastic time. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-40472871254397338152011-09-11T10:32:00.000-07:002011-09-11T10:32:21.745-07:00game day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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college tailgating is officially off my bucket list! my friend emily's fiance is the punter for a local college football team - the NDSU Bison - and being the sugarplum that she is, she offered me free tickets for saturday's game. and let me just say: woah. </div>
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i may not the biggest sports fanatic out there, but i am the biggest fan when it comes to getting together and cheering for a common cause. </div>
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plus, i knew there would stadium food there. and there's no way i would miss an opportunity to mow down on dirty sports food. I stuffed myself with bavarian almonds, pizza and nachos. self control is not one of my strong suits. especially when that weird nacho cheese sauce is involved. </div>
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hope you had a wonderful weekend yourselves, friends! </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-10018624136620334572011-09-08T11:13:00.000-07:002011-09-08T12:20:21.868-07:00life, lately<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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these days i'm:<br />
back on the sauce - after a year of decaf only, i'm back to drinking regular coffee. and lots of it.<br />
wearing anywhere from 2-6 vintage watches at time (pun!) - none of which actually work.<br />
listening to foster the people "houdini" on repeat<br />
traveling, traveling, traveling<br />
living it up at weddings<br />
biting my fingernails again. don't judge me.<br />
thinking about grad school<br />
searching for a white blazer<br />
getting ready for fall fashion - boots! scarves! sweaters! oh my! it's all very felicity and i love it.<br />
missing my family<br />
thinking about piercing my nose - quarter life crisis?<br />
eating enough sushi to get jeremy-piven-style mercury poisoning<br />
chowing down on "egg slop" on saturday mornings<br />
feeling creative<br />
trying to plan a trip to visit little sister<br />
contemplating ways to redesign my bloggie<br />
waiting for a big change, or hoping for it anyway<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-28219641083978259932011-09-07T11:51:00.000-07:002011-09-07T14:56:56.048-07:00adventures in college<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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i'm sure, due to the title of this post, you were expecting me to divulge the ridiculousness that was my post-secondary career. but in an attempt to keep this blog mostly pg13, i'm going to keep it high level and just say, simply: i loved college.<br />
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i seriously did. forget what you've heard about america - <i>college</i> is the real land of opportunity. you pick your friends, you pick your life, you pick yourself. college is fresh slate, a new adventure and a chance to be whoever you thought you could, should or might want to be - whether that's who you always were or not.<br />
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as of last weekend my little brother started his own adventure and moved into his new dorm at macalester college. visiting him there was like getting an early birthday present. it was so exciting to see the beginning of his new little chapter, remembering what it was like to be at that place myself.<br />
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starting your freshman year of college is like jumping off the edge of a cliff in that <strike> it's a horrible mess when you land</strike> you have no idea what's about to happen and the entire world is at your fingertips.<br />
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it's a thrill. and it's the best.<br />
or it can be, if you let it.<br />
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best of luck little brother.<br />
you're gonna be great,<br />
i just know it. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-83379255057547871152011-08-16T10:00:00.000-07:002011-08-16T10:00:36.550-07:00howdy, stranger<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">First of all - friends, I am so sorry for having neglected you and your need for blog-time. Whether you actually love my little stories or you just seriouslyneed something to do while you're at work, girlfriend let you down. But now I'm back (to show you, I can really <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXs_Cyrb3NQ&feature=related">shake 'em down</a>).<br />
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Last week was a blur of work and that 48 hour sickness that goes around each time the seasons change. That's the boring stuff. The fun part was the wedding of my friends Andy & Sarah, two hilarious and wonderful people who met just over a year ago and were married this weekend (insert <i>aaaaws</i>). Their ceremony & reception were at the<a href="http://www.gossoperahouse.com/"> Goss Opera House </a>in Watertown, SD. Everything about this place was beautiful and it was perfect for A & S. I love weddings in general, but I especially love seeing how people's weddings reflect their character both individually and as a couple. For these two it was groomsmen in black converse (the groom's were red!), Sarah's dad's prayer during the ceremony, wild flower bouquets, skinny neon ties and a photo booth full of props. For me, it was so much dancing. When we left the reception the bride said to my date, our friend John, "Thanks for bringing her. More than one person has said to me 'she looks like she likes to have a good time.'" Because I do. And because their marriage is something to celebrate.<br />
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Note: Great things said in the speeches included "A lot of you think Sarah's too pretty for Andy. And you're right." And "I always wondered who would be the right man for my friend with the leopard print flats, until I met Andy. I think he was born with a bowtie on."<br />
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</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-37430381405631142522011-08-09T06:57:00.000-07:002011-08-11T15:17:58.739-07:00woot, woot.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Loa0LqDfIZY/TkE-aNd-JzI/AAAAAAAAASA/WDYhJRzEMJg/s1600/dempseys3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Loa0LqDfIZY/TkE-aNd-JzI/AAAAAAAAASA/WDYhJRzEMJg/s1600/dempseys3.jpg" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;"></span></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZcJiqqidtRo/TkE-aw7j_BI/AAAAAAAAASE/i0A6aWaSfww/s1600/dempseys4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZcJiqqidtRo/TkE-aw7j_BI/AAAAAAAAASE/i0A6aWaSfww/s1600/dempseys4.jpg" /></a>These pictures are fromt last week. I know, I'm the worst when it comes to timeliness.<br />
And washing my hair. And talking too loud. And a bunch of other stuff.<br />
But I'm pretty good at celebrating - which, I'm sure, you've noticed.<br />
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My standard treat-Thursday-like-Friday festivities were amped up by the fact that we were celebrating Ju's birthday and the fact that Liz the Wiz is officially a registered dietician.<br />
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It was also extra wonderful, because I was able to:<br />
a. catch up with one of my favorites, Ash (redhead/twin/campus coworker/ultimate funtime)<br />
b. run into my lovely Sarah (curly hair/barista buddy/hilarious)<br />
c. see a few of my best high school guy friends, who were on their way to Minneapolis<br />
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It was just one of those night where you feel right, because you're doing nothing but being<br />
happy with the people you love.<br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-71256383073864687172011-08-08T12:35:00.000-07:002011-08-08T12:36:03.730-07:00weekend haze<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><object style="height: 390px; width: 640px;"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9ohuPtgevXw?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9ohuPtgevXw?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="580" height="390"></object></div></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Still in a daze from my non-stop busy weekend of big-time thrifting, friend catch-upping, phone losing, phone finding and other all-around goodtimes. Let's just say I have enough to write about for the rest of the week, but no time to do it this afternoon. I'm sorry, friends. Call me a mediocre bad guy.<br />
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No don't. But feel free to enjoy a song by the very same name.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-13732397405393046802011-08-04T10:16:00.000-07:002011-08-04T10:22:44.019-07:00$28 adventures<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span id="goog_1079831499"></span><span id="goog_1079831500"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p6FIKcBAxW4/TjrSucA_fbI/AAAAAAAAARg/NK4UOBbixjI/s1600/hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p6FIKcBAxW4/TjrSucA_fbI/AAAAAAAAARg/NK4UOBbixjI/s1600/hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ptc0hqBXVBs/TjrL8NoM5bI/AAAAAAAAARY/uIJu_rpG2Vo/s1600/thrift1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ptc0hqBXVBs/TjrL8NoM5bI/AAAAAAAAARY/uIJu_rpG2Vo/s1600/thrift1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T_hHpEt6kgw/TjrVGbUXIlI/AAAAAAAAARs/07UxpP2lFCE/s1600/hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T_hHpEt6kgw/TjrVGbUXIlI/AAAAAAAAARs/07UxpP2lFCE/s1600/hat.jpg" /></a>Dearest readers of the universe, thank you for showing up today.<br />
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This post is sponsored by the letter Q, the number 7 and a thrift store near you. Because today we're talking about how I'm obsessed with thrifting. If you didn't know, you probably found out when you told me I had a cute dress on and I promptly replied, "Thanks! It was four bucks!" At this point, I would say that 90% of the items in my wardrobe cost $20 or less, with probably 50% costing under $10.<br />
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To amp that closet up, I decided to make a pit stop at the downtown <a href="http://www.dakotaranch.org/thrift/">DBR</a> on the way home from work last night. And, I tell you what, it was raining deals like it was the golldang apocalypse! I got a new blazer, a fall jacket, a pair of shoes, a belt and an adorable hat - all for $28! FYI, people - this aint my first rodeo. I've been popping in and out of second hand shops since I was a tot. My mom - a fantastic seamstress, deal stealer and do-it-yourselfer - raised our family with an appreciation for the previously used. Our extended family is the same way - my cousins and I could spend days in thrift stores, at auctions or digging through a shed full of old things looking for buried treasure. All you need is a little imagination to find furniture to refurb, clothes to tailor, dishes to wash and old things to make new. It's my perspective that thrifting is an awesome adventure. It's not a hobby, it's a lifestyle. And, actually, it's also becoming a tradition. Every holiday, our siblings pick names for gifts, each with a $30 limit. Two years ago, half of that gift money had to be spent on making or thrifting part of the gift. This year, the entire gift had to be second-hand.<br />
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</div>Anyway, I think I'm going to start posting my favorite finds on my blog in the hopes that it will inspire you to dig for deals of your own. Happy thrifting, loves!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">ps. I was going to call this post "one man's junk" to imply the latter "...is another man's treasure." But it still would have just said "one man's junk," so I skipped it. This time. </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-88171481452342526182011-08-01T20:32:00.000-07:002011-08-01T20:41:32.444-07:00cass lake lovefest<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I'm still recuperating from my fantastic (and ridiculous) weekend camping with some friends at Norway Beach on Cass Lake.<br />
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My friend Amber threw a camping extravaganza birthday party for her husband Josh with fifteen or so from our group of high school friends (we were still missing a few!). And, after our short time together, we're all begging them to make it an annual thing. It was fantastic.<br />
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It's weird to think that I was camping in this same spot more than ten years ago with my friend Jeena. And that we were back in the same place all these years later. (See her and her little family toward the bottom of this post). There's this picture of us from that time where - well, first of all, where she looks adorable and tiny and I'm like captain baby fat, head of the ugly two-piece parade - but secondly, where we look unbelievably happy. We are just two kids with the whole world in front of us doing nothing but being together. That was enough then. And when you take a break from the "real" world, it's enough now. <br />
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Isn't it funny how being at a lake or in the wilderness with nothing to do automatically brings you back to a place of innocence again? For us, that meant skipping stones, playing frisbee, laughing around the fire, riding bikes, going on walks and splashing around in the water (or having a sand fight after a few drinks on the pontoon. oops!).<br />
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We often forget how lucky we are to be almost a decade out of high school and still loving our time together. Everyone is so so different now, but the bond we made back then was enough to last. I guess there are some things we just get right the first time.<br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-81657553634387976892011-08-01T11:30:00.000-07:002011-08-01T19:36:53.238-07:00rooftop summers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">Forgot to post these pictures from last Thursday, when I had dinner & drinks on the rooftop of the <a href="http://www.hoteldonaldson.com/">HoDo</a> with a few of my wonderful friends. It was the perfect night to spend time outside, catching up. Plus, one of our favorite local bands, <a href="http://www.myspace.com/musicbythefillers">the Fillers</a>, was playing outside, while <a href="http://www.myspace.com/charlieparr">Charlie Parr</a> played inside. Great friends. Great music. Great weather. Great food. One great summer night. And there's no point in living, if you're not living for those. </div></div><br />
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If you read my previous post, you won't be surprised by this entry and that I'm onto a whole new "let your body do its natural thing" adventure. It's called the OCM - <a href="http://www.theoilcleansingmethod.com/">the oil cleansing method</a>. Yep! I'm rubbing oil all over my face to clean it. I know, it sounds completely backwards, but in all honesty, I'm three days in and I think I'm hooked. I change my mind like the stinkin' tides, but this one just might stick.<br />
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You should know that for how little I clean my hair, I'm a bonafide fash-washing freakshow. Some can't go to bed without brushing my teeth and I always, always, <i>always</i> wash my face. And I've tried everything on it. The picture above shows only a few of the soaps, toners and lotions I've wasted paychecks on in the just past few months. Told you: Freak. Show. That's why I'm hoping the OCM continues to produce positive results. It's cheap, it's easy and, seriously, my skin feels great.<br />
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<b>Why OCM works: </b>Just like stripping your hair with shampoo, we strip our faces when we wash them with soap. This leaves our skin dry forcing our skin to attempt to replenish what we've taken away by creating a bunch of oil. Basically, not cute. Cleaning with oil not only avoids stripping our skin, but oil dissolves oil, so the OCM allows the face to clean itself while also maintaining it's natural balance.<br />
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<b>To make:</b> Go to your grocery store and pick up a bottle of castor oil as well as another <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carrier_oil">carrier oil</a> like EVOO, sunflower seed oil, almond oil or jojoba oil (which I'm using). Then get an ice cream sandwich and a bag of Doritos, 'cause it's about to get CUHRAZAY. At home, mix the two together, depending on your skin type:<br />
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<b>Oily skin: </b>3 parts castor oil, 1 part carrier oil<br />
<b>Normal skin: </b>equal parts both<br />
<b>Dry skin:</b> 1 part castor oil, 3 parts carrier oil<br />
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I started with the normal skin mix and added one drop of tea trea oil for good measure (hey, adult acne, welcome to the party!). You can experiment to see what works for you. Add more carrier oil if you're dry and more castor oil if you're oily.<br />
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<b>To use: </b>Pour about 1/2 a tablespoon into your hand and rub the oil on your face, massaging for a minute or so, using pressure to really work the oil into the face so it can do its job. There's no need to take off your makeup before hand, because the oil does this too (plus, castor oil is good for lashes). Then you take a washcloth, soak in hot water, wring it out and lay the cloth over your face. The steam will open your pores, allowing the oil to be easily removed. After a minute, gently wipe your face. Rinse your washcloth in the hot water. Repeat the steam/wipe combo two more times. When finished, just splash some cool water on your face and pat dry.<br />
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Most articles suggest doing the OCM just once, at night, then in the morning rinsing your face with water. If you're using the right combination of oils, you shouldn't need lotion. But if your face is like mine and feels just a little dry at night, dip your finger into the oil mixture, rub it between your hands and then put on your face like you would lotion. This works great for me. Then in the morning, after my water-only wash, I just pat on a teeny bit of spf and I'm out the door.<br />
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Wait, no. I put on pants. And makeup. THEN I'm out the door. Who needs shirts anyway? </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-56904806622906957672011-07-27T12:10:00.000-07:002011-07-28T11:32:20.941-07:00no 'poo 'do<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d-UzNn3vWRI/TjBPd0Zj0cI/AAAAAAAAAQw/NRYOcWvRc3o/s1600/hair7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d-UzNn3vWRI/TjBPd0Zj0cI/AAAAAAAAAQw/NRYOcWvRc3o/s1600/hair7.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Those who know me well know that when it comes to washing my hair, I'm a one to two-times-a-week kind of girl...Okay, it's definitely closer to one than two. I'm just not a big fan of the old lather, rinse, repeat... to the point where my coworkers have been running polls on how long it's been since my last wash. They make guesses, because they can't actually tell.<br />
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On a long stretch, I go 3-4 days hair down, then it's all up from there - ponytails, high buns, low buns, headbands, braids, scarves. The gamut. I'll do it all to avoid a wash. But I can. Because it's not greasy.<br />
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When you wash your hair every day or every other day, you're stripping your hair of the natural oils it needs to stay healthy. Your hair then overcompensates by trying to hurry up and add extra oil before you strip it again. Sad hair day, bad hair day. So, why not opt for unwashing and let your hair do it's own thing?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I can't go so far as to join the newly popular <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_poo">No 'Poo</a> movement. Still, I'm a huge seller of the infrequent 'poo. And even though you're probably thinking this makes me a Grossie Mcgrosserson, I've convinced a number of my friends to hop on the bandwagon. Sure, it takes a few weeks of practically marrying a bottle of dry shampoo in order to keep your roots from looking completely soaked, but when it's over you'll save yourself so much time! And that - I think (and my converts would agree) - is totally worth it. Helloooo, way more time for pizza eating and lifetime movies? Yes please! </div><div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Anyway, all I'm trying to say is "don't knock it til you try it." And by that I mean try it. I even promise to be there when you feel like whining about the in-between stage. Cross my heart! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Please note: Just because I don't shampoo, doesn't mean I'm not clean. I rinse off in shower when need be. You know, to clean up after a work out (ha), to be extra warm, to knock all the bottles off the little ledges trying to shave my legs, etc. </span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-79506253151984718812011-07-26T12:22:00.000-07:002011-07-26T12:26:25.677-07:00Sayonara<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MSBCmONVMvM/Ti8TprDjGAI/AAAAAAAAAQM/FBwBdHcadeA/s1600/beejshoot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MSBCmONVMvM/Ti8TprDjGAI/AAAAAAAAAQM/FBwBdHcadeA/s1600/beejshoot.jpg" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;"> </span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LzZHLpqBv6g/Ti8TqH6MVpI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/ugQtCyWxzug/s1600/cooking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LzZHLpqBv6g/Ti8TqH6MVpI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/ugQtCyWxzug/s1600/cooking.jpg" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;"> </span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZEMS9mM5ROE/Ti8TqhP6tEI/AAAAAAAAAQU/Wm_2kfccRYo/s1600/food2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZEMS9mM5ROE/Ti8TqhP6tEI/AAAAAAAAAQU/Wm_2kfccRYo/s1600/food2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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I guess summer is the time to go away, because I just attended another send off! It was a grill party for my friend Beej (my music baby buddy), who's going to Japan to visit his brother, Travis. Travis works for A&F and got an offer to relocate to Japan's new flagship store, so he and his wife Sarah packed up and left! I love life's unexpected opportunities and so enjoy hearing about people and couples and families who take advantage of these kinds of adventures.<br />
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I'm equally excited for Brandon to experience overseas travel and to explore a new culture. It's so exciting! It just makes me thankful all over again for my life and the chances I've had to visit other countries and understand how other people live throughout the world.<br />
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The going away party was a blast! It was so great to spend time with Brandon and his friends - the ones I already knew and a few new faces - including Jilly - who I've been waiting to meet for, like, ever! While his friend Matt loaded the kabobs and prepared the food, I ate snacked until I was full. That's always the case, huh? Eating the dinner before it's actually done? I was just too eager to hold back - and isn't that just the story of my life! <br />
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With that, here's to you Beej. I hope you have the best time ever and that you take tons of pictures, so my blogbesties and I can live vicariously through you!<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">Cheers & safe travels! </div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-59632062854684560182011-07-25T07:46:00.000-07:002011-07-25T07:51:35.167-07:00these are my people<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bEkE3eZcK7M/TizQAdMIC9I/AAAAAAAAAO4/6rAlBU6IBF8/s1600/Zavorals_Face+Paint+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bEkE3eZcK7M/TizQAdMIC9I/AAAAAAAAAO4/6rAlBU6IBF8/s1600/Zavorals_Face+Paint+2011.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g0vgUB07ARQ/TizK1lDhwnI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2p_CwgnFvnE/s1600/IMG_0054_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g0vgUB07ARQ/TizK1lDhwnI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2p_CwgnFvnE/s1600/IMG_0054_2.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZRWdF1PqCcA/TizT_qqHXbI/AAAAAAAAAO8/jZvn7y6bt1o/s1600/IMG_0087_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZRWdF1PqCcA/TizT_qqHXbI/AAAAAAAAAO8/jZvn7y6bt1o/s1600/IMG_0087_2.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Getting back in the groove after a busy, busy weekend! Spent my time catching up with some of my best high school girlfriends, giggling away my Sunday afternoon with my bestcousinfriend Teresa and her hubby, my frielative, Seanie, and hanging out with some of my favorite people under age 10 (including baby Stella!). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></div>These kids - Isaac, Lilah, Asher, Micah and NOW baby Stella - belong to Dave & Kari, who pseudo-adopted me during my senior year of high school when my family moved out to Oregon. Needless to say, they've been a huge part of my life ever since. And after looking over some of the pictures from our time together, I'm pretty sure you can tell we're related. Even if it's not genetic.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Have you heard the country song where the singer says "These are my people, this is where I come from" and then adds a bunch of cheesy lines afterward? First of all, it's hilarious. Second of all (full disclosure), I totally understand the sentiment. After spending a weekend with all these people who have dealt with/helped me grow into the person I am - a pleasantly non-grown-up grown up - it's obvious that it's not the places, but the people in them that make you feel like you're home. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yep! There's no doubt about it. These are my people. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">*Also, how good am I at painting faces? Not to brag, but woah. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">Introducing Ms. Stella Lois, the newest addition to D&K's family. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Welcome to this crazy world, my sweet little eskimo baby. It's yours for the taking. </div><div style="text-align: center;">xo</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Note: Toootally not sure if people are allowed to use the word "eskimo" anymore. If not, my apologies. And also hi, I'm the worst. </span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6666042426306408672.post-67776750410735882112011-07-22T10:37:00.000-07:002011-07-25T08:59:49.901-07:00i can see russia from my house!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G8xttzHutp4/Tim1F8GNuUI/AAAAAAAAAOg/qynKSDhN0hA/s1600/jar+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G8xttzHutp4/Tim1F8GNuUI/AAAAAAAAAOg/qynKSDhN0hA/s1600/jar+.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DtIRAYGnK1U/Tim1JdAJIPI/AAAAAAAAAOk/RZtb9-BXqz4/s1600/tang.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DtIRAYGnK1U/Tim1JdAJIPI/AAAAAAAAAOk/RZtb9-BXqz4/s1600/tang.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">False. I cannot. Can anyone? </div><br />
True: These days, if you're in my apartment or sitting next to me at work, you're bound to see something Russian. And I'm talking about those furry hats. I'm talking about Russian Tea! (Are those furry hats even Russian?)<br />
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Truly, I'm obsessed. It's as hot as the Devil's armpit in this little city so that my skin is practically melting off, but I still can't seem to put the stuff down. I suppose I could have it cold, but having a hot mug of it in the morning has been making my day. Probably because it reminds me of my great grandma and the rest of my beautiful family - and if that's not worth sweating through the afternoon, I don't know what is.<br />
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If you haven't tried Russian Tea, I highly encourage you to do so. There are plenty of fancy recipes online, with ingredients like orange rinds and instructions like "boil" and "wait." Well, guess what? I'm a working lady and I just don't have time for that business. Thank goodness my family recipe is easy peasy:<br />
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2 cups Tang<br />
2 cups Iced Tea (sweetened)<br />
1 cup Lemonade<br />
2 tsp cinnamon<br />
1/2 tsp cloves<br />
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And all you do is mix them! Can you believe it? JUST MIX! Then add a few scoops to a glass of hot or cold water and enjoy. <br />
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Suck on that cooks.com. No seriously, do. It's delicious.<br />
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Editor's Note: All thanks for this post and my joy over russian tea is courtesy of my beautiful cousin Sarah. B, you're the best. And how dare I forget to mention you in the first place! Clearly, I'm practically delirious because of the stuff. Love you to bits!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0