As you may have noticed, if you look up, you'll see a new "header" that is pink and brown. I'm experimenting. It might stay, it might not. I might make three columns, I may stick to two. But, I am playing in the makeup bag that Illustrator. Things may get a little kookie around here. :)
Please tell me what you think if you're so inclined!
Short Shorts, Lasered Legs, American Eagle
The laser hair removal is working. For the Memorial Weekend Road Trip, I wore my new "Jack Hanna" (as David calls them) short shorts from American Eagle. When was the last time I had the confidence to wear such shorts? Maybe in 8th grade. Ok, sometimes in college, but I had to be very tan.In the car, especially in shorts, let's just say you need a smooth shave with no razor bumps to look good. I have skinny legs, with muscle I might add, but rarely over the years have they seen the sunshine because I've been so lacking good-leg confidence. Hence the laser hair removal. So in a car, you do a lot of looking around, and I studied the hair follicle of my thigh, because that is what has been getting lasered. I'm pretty sure what I saw were empty follicles. Like, no black shadow under the skin where the hair follicle is just waiting to grow its prickly growth.
Enter American Eagle, where all of the girls look 13, and I'm about turn 30. Loving American Eagle right now, and their short shorts and cottony Ts. They've got good Clearance, but it's all still affordable. So good, in fact, that I was on this morning to buy a sand colored striped skinny hoody, and by the time I went to buy it as I typed this post, it was gone!
Driving Through the Shenandoah Valley
We spent Memorial Day Weekend basically in the car, on the way to and from a wedding around Knoxville, TN. David is a big driver, so in accompanying him on all of these trips up and down the east coast, I havd decided I will start a new series called "Driving the American Landscape." On its soundtrack are: a lot of Genesis and Phil Collins, Millie Vanilie, Oh What A Night, Boy George, and You Give Love A Bad Name. The soundtrack will always finish with a fiddle and a woman who sounds like Sally Dworsky on A Prarie Home Companion, followed by classical in the morning to detox us from the prior afternoon's hypnotic Top 40.
One of my favorite parts about road trips is seeing the random pieces of farm left behind before the Dairy Queen settled in, like this little bridge here:
Then came the Dairy Queen, as explained in Fast Food Nation, which allowed new immigrants to plop down in the middle of a field to sell ice-cream and gas.
The first quarter of our journey: the great Shenandoah Valley. We usually drive through it in the dark. It has now become our Mecca. We stop at Antietam, drive through Lexington to see Stonewall's house and tomb, and will next drive to and walk over the Natural Bridge, and maybe go inside of some Endless Canyons. (like this ring? it's blown glass from this etsy.com shop)
One of many Shenandoah fields.
Pat Garrett's sheepskin shop was very exciting the first time we visited it. What was not so thrilling was the sneezing I did after being covered by all of the dust from the sitting wool and leather slippers and jackets. I did buy a $19.95 bag of 3 foot high wool scraps, just because.
Sometimes we get these flat tire notices. We don't know what to do with them.
The mysteries of rolls of hay. Theses are covered in white plastic.
Do dogs get car sick? Not sure.
He could be singing You Give Love a Bad Name. We will next go to Outback in NJ and repeat.
Here comes a storm. Those are always so exciting.
Storm breaking.
This picture made me dizzy, so I wanted to see if it made you dizzy.
A JB Hunt truck. A staple of the highway and had to be included.
Gerrrrdy.
Perkins. Another staple of the highway, right after Cracker Barrell, but before Shoney's. If you're lucky, you'll get a Friendly's.
Here is where my camera died. Right in the heart of the Shenandoah Valley, and I forgot my charger. No more pictures, but they were the prettiest ones.
In the car,many questions were asked:
Observations were made:
On Laptops:
Laptops for writers are like guitars for musicians, in that they can be taken anywhere by shoulder strap and tucked away until pulled out. As a piano-lesson-player, I couldn't take the piano with me anywhere, which made the whole thing difficult when I just wanted to play randomly to release stress or something. I've just realized, as I sit in the car with my little 12" battery powered PowerBook G4, I can type and move my fingers like I'm hitting flats and white keys, and I can be anywhere any time with a cute bag or shoulder strap like any hard core guitar player. Portability at last.
On Eating Outside at Another Dairy Queen:
Eating Subway at Dairy Queen's outdoor patio with the metal benches, tables and umbrellas cemented into the ground, surrounded by bird poop and pools of six o'clock sunshine, just before the kids finish peanut butter parfes and go home to have baths and get into pajamas and watch a Disney movie on TV before going to bed in fresh sheets.
Then saw a husband with a slender tattoo of the Playboy bunny on his black-t-shirt sleeveless arm, accompanied by his mother and his Plane Jane wife in kulots as they all walked to his little Honda SUV.
Home
One of my favorite parts about road trips is seeing the random pieces of farm left behind before the Dairy Queen settled in, like this little bridge here:
Then came the Dairy Queen, as explained in Fast Food Nation, which allowed new immigrants to plop down in the middle of a field to sell ice-cream and gas.
The first quarter of our journey: the great Shenandoah Valley. We usually drive through it in the dark. It has now become our Mecca. We stop at Antietam, drive through Lexington to see Stonewall's house and tomb, and will next drive to and walk over the Natural Bridge, and maybe go inside of some Endless Canyons. (like this ring? it's blown glass from this etsy.com shop)
One of many Shenandoah fields.
Pat Garrett's sheepskin shop was very exciting the first time we visited it. What was not so thrilling was the sneezing I did after being covered by all of the dust from the sitting wool and leather slippers and jackets. I did buy a $19.95 bag of 3 foot high wool scraps, just because.
Sometimes we get these flat tire notices. We don't know what to do with them.
The mysteries of rolls of hay. Theses are covered in white plastic.
Do dogs get car sick? Not sure.
He could be singing You Give Love a Bad Name. We will next go to Outback in NJ and repeat.
Here comes a storm. Those are always so exciting.
Storm breaking.
This picture made me dizzy, so I wanted to see if it made you dizzy.
A JB Hunt truck. A staple of the highway and had to be included.
Gerrrrdy.
Perkins. Another staple of the highway, right after Cracker Barrell, but before Shoney's. If you're lucky, you'll get a Friendly's.
Here is where my camera died. Right in the heart of the Shenandoah Valley, and I forgot my charger. No more pictures, but they were the prettiest ones.
In the car,many questions were asked:
- What is the red eye shape in the Dairy Queen logo?
- Why do the farmers leave the rolled bails of hay in the middle of the fields, and do they roll them as they cut the hay, and if so, how do they do such a clean job?
- What do the farmers do with the bails of hay when it rains? How do the rolls of hay dry out when they get rained on if they are balled up?
- Why does David know that trucker's tiers are plated with steel to make them harder? And how does he know that when you poor concrete for a sidewalk that it is reinforced with metal stuff underneath? Is this IBK - Inherent Boy Knowledge?
- Should you talk about where to buy vacation homes and debate places to live outside of New York if you are not yet engaged?
- How often do Adult video and book stores update their inventory? And does the trucker who delivers it watch it before or after he drops it off?
- What are the starting words to M.C. Hammer's Hammer Time song?
- Why are the bright red wildflowers planted on one side of the slanted median on I-81 and not on the other sides or on both sides at once?
- If I set my business up to be conducted from anywhere, why wouldn't I want to do it from Columubs, OH?
- How do the 200 foot tall cluster of lights on the highway stay up?
- Why isn't there gas at rest areas?
- How do cowboy farmers herd cattle in from the fields these days? By truck? By horse? By trails of really good grain? Do they Pavlov it?
- How do these farmers make money from 20 cows? And does the corn really send the kids to college? Or is it subsidies? So if I'm paying for a fraction of that corn to grow, can I come over and run through it?
- What is a "blue tour" and do we want to take it when I-81 is stopped, not just moving slowly? If we do, we will stop seeing rolls of hay and start to see antique shops and places like Haag's Bar and Food. And we will actually see big, tan, shirtless men wrestle in front of a group of people on a porch while two teens toss a frisbee in a town called Hamburg, PA.
- If we moooved into the country, would we get bored? I think we would pick lots of purple wildflowers and skip around and have fun.
Observations were made:
On Laptops:
Laptops for writers are like guitars for musicians, in that they can be taken anywhere by shoulder strap and tucked away until pulled out. As a piano-lesson-player, I couldn't take the piano with me anywhere, which made the whole thing difficult when I just wanted to play randomly to release stress or something. I've just realized, as I sit in the car with my little 12" battery powered PowerBook G4, I can type and move my fingers like I'm hitting flats and white keys, and I can be anywhere any time with a cute bag or shoulder strap like any hard core guitar player. Portability at last.
On Eating Outside at Another Dairy Queen:
Eating Subway at Dairy Queen's outdoor patio with the metal benches, tables and umbrellas cemented into the ground, surrounded by bird poop and pools of six o'clock sunshine, just before the kids finish peanut butter parfes and go home to have baths and get into pajamas and watch a Disney movie on TV before going to bed in fresh sheets.
Then saw a husband with a slender tattoo of the Playboy bunny on his black-t-shirt sleeveless arm, accompanied by his mother and his Plane Jane wife in kulots as they all walked to his little Honda SUV.
Home
Point for American Express
The day in the life of me this week has been proposal writing and fighting people like "Robert," "Shawn" and "Justin" in some Asian country who work for Adobe's Customer Service. The reason for our disagreement has been my mistaken purchase of the Adobe InDesign upgrade to CS3. Years ago I bought the Creative Suite, and to upgrade, I have to upgrade the whole suite, not just one program from it. When I learned this, which took about 1 hour to discover after going round and round with fake-named people, only to have a young woman indirectly tell me what I needed to purchase.
I made the purchase, which was a download of the software, and proceeded with the next step to get a refund. I cannot tell you how many people I spoke with, getting answers like "Oh, our systems are slow today. I'm just not seeing your first order in the computer yet. Why don't you call back in a couple of hours and it will show up and we can start the refund process." A couple of hours later, still no order in the system. "Justin" gives me a phone case order, and I am to fax a PDF to the number on the form. I am not to email it, even though there is an email provided at the bottom of the form as another option.
The next day, the fax on their end gives me "Communication Error." I call again. And talk to "Shawn." More of the same. He gets my customer ID wrong, and when suggests that I email the form, which was previously not encouraged, he gives me the following email address: "www.adobe.com/support/..." I tell him this is a URL. He tells me it is an email. I won't reveal how I was further with him.
Yesterday I faxed the form again. The fax seemed to go through. I put it out of my mind and waited to follow up today. No fax. No email. No refund. By the end of the discussion, and getting from Nameless to "Robert," a supervisor with an actual Employee ID number unlike "Shawn" who maybe did not know his b/c he told me he did not have one, who told me that he would in fact get the fax, as the machine is in his office. He then confirmed that the fax first goes to the Research Department, which is in another place, not his office or building, and they do not have phones or emails. Gerdy left the room for my next episode.
Enter American Express. From the beginning I should have called them. A nice man calmly listened to me, quite a relief from the nervous accented people who are trained to say: "I am so sorry for putting you on hold again and again. Thank you so much for being so patient," which really just wastes time when they repeat it throughout the phone call. The man at American Express understood, and he opened an Investigation after telling me that I was not responsible for the amount that I need refunded. That was all I needed to hear. American Express may be aggressive in their credit tactics, in that they want to give you more and more reasons to have more credit and reason to flop, but at the end of the day, at least this week, they have done their job.
I made the purchase, which was a download of the software, and proceeded with the next step to get a refund. I cannot tell you how many people I spoke with, getting answers like "Oh, our systems are slow today. I'm just not seeing your first order in the computer yet. Why don't you call back in a couple of hours and it will show up and we can start the refund process." A couple of hours later, still no order in the system. "Justin" gives me a phone case order, and I am to fax a PDF to the number on the form. I am not to email it, even though there is an email provided at the bottom of the form as another option.
The next day, the fax on their end gives me "Communication Error." I call again. And talk to "Shawn." More of the same. He gets my customer ID wrong, and when suggests that I email the form, which was previously not encouraged, he gives me the following email address: "www.adobe.com/support/..." I tell him this is a URL. He tells me it is an email. I won't reveal how I was further with him.
Yesterday I faxed the form again. The fax seemed to go through. I put it out of my mind and waited to follow up today. No fax. No email. No refund. By the end of the discussion, and getting from Nameless to "Robert," a supervisor with an actual Employee ID number unlike "Shawn" who maybe did not know his b/c he told me he did not have one, who told me that he would in fact get the fax, as the machine is in his office. He then confirmed that the fax first goes to the Research Department, which is in another place, not his office or building, and they do not have phones or emails. Gerdy left the room for my next episode.
Enter American Express. From the beginning I should have called them. A nice man calmly listened to me, quite a relief from the nervous accented people who are trained to say: "I am so sorry for putting you on hold again and again. Thank you so much for being so patient," which really just wastes time when they repeat it throughout the phone call. The man at American Express understood, and he opened an Investigation after telling me that I was not responsible for the amount that I need refunded. That was all I needed to hear. American Express may be aggressive in their credit tactics, in that they want to give you more and more reasons to have more credit and reason to flop, but at the end of the day, at least this week, they have done their job.
Can't Sleep, Neither Can iGoogle Fox
It's 2:30am and I just can't sleep. Very unlike me. Could be due to coffee had today at noon, but unlikely. I started to install QuickBooks today in my new room which is so pleasant to be in, and I swear I keep dreaming about it. I go in and out of dreams about Brothers and Sisters and the expense and income accounts I haven't created yet in QuickBooks. So I've put some water on in my pot for chamomile tea because I still have not decided on a kettle. Maybe after all is said and done I'll find a way to go to GoodWill via subway and see what I can find, as inspired by this post.
I was also jarred a bit by a small family from our building moving their daughter back into their apartment. It's a family of women, actually, a mother and her two daughters. One daughter is a professional now, and the other was a sprightly thing who I met when I first moved into this building 5 years ago. She was a hippie child and always threw imaginary "sparklies" on me when she left the elevator. It was like saying "goodbye!" but instead she said "sparklies!"
She went to college and came back during the summers, and now she's really back, today being her graduation. And it hit me. A whole mini lifetime of 4 years passed for her while I knew her, yet my life stayed the same pace. My life has had many changes in that time, actually, but it was odd to see her life fold over those 4 years. Made me realize, yet again, how quickly time passes.
:: pause to reflect ::
Ok. So now that we've had that thought, I'm moving into constructive mode and attempting to switch my blog into the new Blogger mode, which means I will lose my sidebar and analytics code, as experienced by me on my experimental other blog.
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Zenning
Well I made it through the sickness, which did progress into a delirious fever. I called my mom as I walked up Broadway to Duane Reade to get the cleaning supplies and medicine, and sure enough if I didn't wander up and down the isles, unable to find the main ingredient of anything that my mother was insisting I get, in between insisting that I get off the streets and into my bed. David was still working in CT on the Indiana Jones film, so he wasn't going to be of any help for several more hours. That meant it was up to me to get at least the cleaning supplies for the cleaning woman who was coming over at 9am the next morning.
David did call to check in, and when he started complaining of his scratchy throat after I got done telling him that I was still not doing well in Duane Reade, I pretty much ended the call in a huff, citing lack of sympathy from a boyfriend. When he called back, all I could say was: "Unless you are calling to offer to bring me something, then I am hanging up." And when he did ask what I needed, I was currently stopped on the street in the drizzle, blowing my nose with 5 bags of what I needed splayed on the sidewalk around me.
Me: "I've got everything I need."
David: "Everything?"
Me: "Shoot! I forgot the mop. You can get me a mop. It's a very special kind."
We haggled over the inconvenience of getting the mop and parking, because I had also
inserted that I would like a very juicy burger from the Dive Bar, and the heated chocolate mudd cake from Henry's with vanilla ice cream, not pistachio.
Can you believe me? Clearly I needed to Zen out. David instructed me not to turn on ANY dramatic TV, and to just put on nice music and remain calm. So when I got back, I fed the animals and put on the Cowboy Junkies Trinity Session, which was just lovely and whisked me away to a Zen place. Sometimes in early summer, I get strange fits of nesting energy, and I rearrange things. This night proved no exception, as I turned all of the furniture right side up and put everything back, only dusting what I touched. Three plays later of the album, I had collapsed on the couch, aching all over, thermometer in my mouth which had reached 100.9, and David walked in with the yumminess. I ate, we walked Gerdy, and I popped the PM Tylenol, which actually kept me awake until I had some NyQuil. And now I'm getting better in our beautiful room that is so much brighter and has a new screen in the window that I found under the bed.
Cleaning supplies. A must for some forms of therapy. And an US Weekly and a Vogue.
The new room! Butter walls and David's chair-in-a-half on the opposite side of the room from where it was. It's awkward getting to it, but quite nice sitting in because the bed can alternate between a giant foot rest and a desk, as pictured.
Thankfully David doesn't mind my babushka scarf decorating the TV to make it fit in more. He says it's nice that I'm trying to incorporate the TV into the room, which he can watch so much of on Saturdays (sports, history, nature).
Gerdy, encouraging me to be done taking pics. But this is the new space in front of the room.
And the vantage point from the front of the room. No lights are on, it's just this bright.
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David did call to check in, and when he started complaining of his scratchy throat after I got done telling him that I was still not doing well in Duane Reade, I pretty much ended the call in a huff, citing lack of sympathy from a boyfriend. When he called back, all I could say was: "Unless you are calling to offer to bring me something, then I am hanging up." And when he did ask what I needed, I was currently stopped on the street in the drizzle, blowing my nose with 5 bags of what I needed splayed on the sidewalk around me.
Me: "I've got everything I need."
David: "Everything?"
Me: "Shoot! I forgot the mop. You can get me a mop. It's a very special kind."
We haggled over the inconvenience of getting the mop and parking, because I had also
inserted that I would like a very juicy burger from the Dive Bar, and the heated chocolate mudd cake from Henry's with vanilla ice cream, not pistachio.
Can you believe me? Clearly I needed to Zen out. David instructed me not to turn on ANY dramatic TV, and to just put on nice music and remain calm. So when I got back, I fed the animals and put on the Cowboy Junkies Trinity Session, which was just lovely and whisked me away to a Zen place. Sometimes in early summer, I get strange fits of nesting energy, and I rearrange things. This night proved no exception, as I turned all of the furniture right side up and put everything back, only dusting what I touched. Three plays later of the album, I had collapsed on the couch, aching all over, thermometer in my mouth which had reached 100.9, and David walked in with the yumminess. I ate, we walked Gerdy, and I popped the PM Tylenol, which actually kept me awake until I had some NyQuil. And now I'm getting better in our beautiful room that is so much brighter and has a new screen in the window that I found under the bed.
Zenning on Friday Night
Instead of wine, I cracked a bottle of Pellegrino, and it was delicious in my tea cup! This started the night of calm.Cleaning supplies. A must for some forms of therapy. And an US Weekly and a Vogue.
The new room! Butter walls and David's chair-in-a-half on the opposite side of the room from where it was. It's awkward getting to it, but quite nice sitting in because the bed can alternate between a giant foot rest and a desk, as pictured.
Thankfully David doesn't mind my babushka scarf decorating the TV to make it fit in more. He says it's nice that I'm trying to incorporate the TV into the room, which he can watch so much of on Saturdays (sports, history, nature).
Gerdy, encouraging me to be done taking pics. But this is the new space in front of the room.
And the vantage point from the front of the room. No lights are on, it's just this bright.
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Computer Germs and UnZenful Living
Reading about all of my friends being sick over email was quite a story. Dropping like flies, all of them. Me, I was just happy and healthy with my vitamins. Until yesterday. I've mentioned the Painterman and the Building Blasters and hadn't given a speck of thought to the fact that the dust they were creating from plaster might actually make me sick. The slightest layer of dust gets me in a tizzy. And we have about a millimeter in our room. Now a millimeter of dust is actually a lot. Any time you can stick a ruler in it and leave a mark, you know you need to leave the house. So now achniness has embraced me, my teeth hurt and my face is sensative to nervous itchings, I am not without a lotioned Puffs Plus in my hand (down to the last box), and even Dinah looks swollen in her face.
So here's what I've been living in. And when I say "I," I mean me because it is me who works from here during the day. That tiny space on the couch is all that remains of sitting area, but it's hard to get to with David's exercise bike. At night we take those cushions off the couch and sleep there, holding onto each other's feet b/c I refuse to be that smushed if we were shoulder to shoulder. His feet did not smell, thank goodness. And of course mine do not. They are perfect and pedicured.
The bedroom took the most damage. Water damage from the patio above always seeps its way into our ceiling. I put it off as long as I can for this very reason. But how you see how it is a nice shade of butter, vs the royal purple it has been for the past two years. With a dark wood floor and dark wood doors, I realized that it needed a light wall for the best contrast.
I've ordered some French Onion soup from Carne, and it made me flushed all over just eating it. But I have some strength, will bundle up because I'm freezing, and will go to a good hardware store where I can get good cleaning supplies because guess what. I have hired a cleaning service to clean our house. There is too much dust, and if I have to clean it this time, I might slip into a domesticated fit of...of...something where the only thing that will make me feel better is three swigs of NyQuil and an entire chocolate mudd cake from Henry's.
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So here's what I've been living in. And when I say "I," I mean me because it is me who works from here during the day. That tiny space on the couch is all that remains of sitting area, but it's hard to get to with David's exercise bike. At night we take those cushions off the couch and sleep there, holding onto each other's feet b/c I refuse to be that smushed if we were shoulder to shoulder. His feet did not smell, thank goodness. And of course mine do not. They are perfect and pedicured.
The bedroom took the most damage. Water damage from the patio above always seeps its way into our ceiling. I put it off as long as I can for this very reason. But how you see how it is a nice shade of butter, vs the royal purple it has been for the past two years. With a dark wood floor and dark wood doors, I realized that it needed a light wall for the best contrast.
I've ordered some French Onion soup from Carne, and it made me flushed all over just eating it. But I have some strength, will bundle up because I'm freezing, and will go to a good hardware store where I can get good cleaning supplies because guess what. I have hired a cleaning service to clean our house. There is too much dust, and if I have to clean it this time, I might slip into a domesticated fit of...of...something where the only thing that will make me feel better is three swigs of NyQuil and an entire chocolate mudd cake from Henry's.
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Polly Put the Kettle On
I haven't had a kettle or tea pot for over 5 years. I've been boiling water out of a pot. David made popcorn out of too many of those pots, which is really stinky, so it's time for me to find a real kettle, even though I keep trying to stop drinking coffee.
Windsor Whistling Tea Kettles - $115
This is a pretty one. From England. Copper lined bottom. Wood handle. The handle looks big enough that it wouldn't be too small for my grip, if that made sense.
Chantal Whistling Tea Kettle - $110
Example of what I don't want. Have had this type before, but the TJ Max version. The handle is too close to the metal lid part. And it's hard to fill them up with water because you do it through the spout. Clumsy.
Chantal Ball Kettle - $50
Looks interesting. Never had a ball shaped kettle before. Stainless steal. Pretty.
Le Creuset Teakettle - $60
Here is the wooden handle theme, but for $50 less. And in blue, which would look nice with tomato red.
Gibson Chai - $19.95
It's $19.95, and is brushed stainless steal. Not crazy about this one. If it looked like a person, it looks like this guy who I just saw in Scent of a Woman - quite a pointy man. David says he's good to work with on film/tv. That's the word on the sets.
Chantal Loop Kettle - $39.99
This is kind of pretty. A loop kettle. A little strange, but I like the colors. I'll bet it fills up at the spout, and because of the loop angle going back, might not be so cumbersome.
BlinkQ Whistling Tea Kettle - $69.99
Another pink one. Didn't want the Jetson's look, but this is different to look at. And again, pink. Good, I think, with tomato soup.
Le Crueset Enamel Tea Kettle - $59.99
Oh, I like this one. For a minute I thought I'd already put it in the list, but this is slightly darker blue, has a rounder handle with more character and charm, has a prettier body with more curves, and I like the lid better.
And that concludes our search for the perfect tea kettle for the morning. I must take Gerdy out before the 9am leash law goes into effect. I've had 2 cups of coffee in my little tea cup (so yummy with heavy cream and honey...I couldn't stop sipping it), so I had better jog to get it through my system. The Painterman comes again today, and I've not moved anything. The house is covered in dust and I'm well, rather protesting since it's the building's fault that we need to repaint, even though we are getting a free paint job out of it, and I'm changing the color from purple to butter.
I've contacted Elaine Perlov of because I knew she would know of more tea kettle sources than I. And she did.
Says Elaine: "After a recent visit to the Bodum store in the Meat Packing district, I am totally convinced that Bodum is a design expert in coffee and tea." On Elaine's blog, she has cool pictures of her Japanese inspired breakfasts and trays. It's fun to look at how much someone else enjoys breakfast, so she would know a good tea pot.
Calorius - $39.99 at Bodum
The Calorious is electric and shuts off automatically when it boils. I truly have lost at least two pots this way. One involved an artichoke and that did not smell good.
Chambord - $39.95 at Bodum
While not a tea pot to boil water, this tea press was too cute not to include.
Curl - $39.95 at Bodum, but there is a $119 stainless steel one
Another electric tea pot.
Castiron Tea Pot Set - $55.99 at Amazon
As Elaine says: "And the good old Japanese tea pot." I do like this one. Since charm by way of "unique and cute" was one of my requirements, this one does get a vote from me.
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Requirements of Tea Kettle:
- No metal handle with a metal top. Too easy to get hot and burn myself.
- Must look unique and cute.
- The kitchen is tomato soup red, so it has to fit in.
Windsor Whistling Tea Kettles - $115
This is a pretty one. From England. Copper lined bottom. Wood handle. The handle looks big enough that it wouldn't be too small for my grip, if that made sense.
Chantal Whistling Tea Kettle - $110
Example of what I don't want. Have had this type before, but the TJ Max version. The handle is too close to the metal lid part. And it's hard to fill them up with water because you do it through the spout. Clumsy.
Chantal Ball Kettle - $50
Looks interesting. Never had a ball shaped kettle before. Stainless steal. Pretty.
Le Creuset Teakettle - $60
Here is the wooden handle theme, but for $50 less. And in blue, which would look nice with tomato red.
Gibson Chai - $19.95
It's $19.95, and is brushed stainless steal. Not crazy about this one. If it looked like a person, it looks like this guy who I just saw in Scent of a Woman - quite a pointy man. David says he's good to work with on film/tv. That's the word on the sets.
Chantal Loop Kettle - $39.99
This is kind of pretty. A loop kettle. A little strange, but I like the colors. I'll bet it fills up at the spout, and because of the loop angle going back, might not be so cumbersome.
BlinkQ Whistling Tea Kettle - $69.99
Another pink one. Didn't want the Jetson's look, but this is different to look at. And again, pink. Good, I think, with tomato soup.
Le Crueset Enamel Tea Kettle - $59.99
Oh, I like this one. For a minute I thought I'd already put it in the list, but this is slightly darker blue, has a rounder handle with more character and charm, has a prettier body with more curves, and I like the lid better.
And that concludes our search for the perfect tea kettle for the morning. I must take Gerdy out before the 9am leash law goes into effect. I've had 2 cups of coffee in my little tea cup (so yummy with heavy cream and honey...I couldn't stop sipping it), so I had better jog to get it through my system. The Painterman comes again today, and I've not moved anything. The house is covered in dust and I'm well, rather protesting since it's the building's fault that we need to repaint, even though we are getting a free paint job out of it, and I'm changing the color from purple to butter.
Consulting With a Design Expert Elaine Perlov for Her Tea Kettle Picks
I've contacted Elaine Perlov of because I knew she would know of more tea kettle sources than I. And she did.
Says Elaine: "After a recent visit to the Bodum store in the Meat Packing district, I am totally convinced that Bodum is a design expert in coffee and tea." On Elaine's blog, she has cool pictures of her Japanese inspired breakfasts and trays. It's fun to look at how much someone else enjoys breakfast, so she would know a good tea pot.
Calorius - $39.99 at Bodum
The Calorious is electric and shuts off automatically when it boils. I truly have lost at least two pots this way. One involved an artichoke and that did not smell good.
Chambord - $39.95 at Bodum
While not a tea pot to boil water, this tea press was too cute not to include.
Curl - $39.95 at Bodum, but there is a $119 stainless steel one
Another electric tea pot.
Castiron Tea Pot Set - $55.99 at Amazon
As Elaine says: "And the good old Japanese tea pot." I do like this one. Since charm by way of "unique and cute" was one of my requirements, this one does get a vote from me.
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My New iGoogle Fox Friend and Other Pics
Hi People! It's been a while since I wrote, or seemed like it anyway. It's been quiet here in my little studio off the kitchen. I'm actually enjoying the "silence," which consists of church bells on the hour, sirens, birds, some strange mega-phone-fest with kids in the projects accross the street, etc. All last week workmen were working on the building and had hoisted themselves up on those window-washer-man things right outside my bedroom window and had blasted into the side of the building for days, until finally it rained and they had to stop.
But this post is about my new iGoogle fox friend that I found while doing a virtual demo with a nice sales guy at Vertical Response, an e-newsletter company. I saw that he had it on his computer, and I just HAD to have my own! I'm alone here during the day, and the grocery workers downstairs think I no longer work (when I get dressed up, they say: "Oh, you're going to work!?!), but I'm really not alone with Dinah, Oliver and Gerdy, and now the painter man named Abree, and his Pakistani roof-fixer friend who actually never fixes the roof the whole way hence the painter man. And then there's the Super, Derek, who comes every now and then when I call in a panic if I open the top part of the giant window in my studio and it's lost its springs and won't stay up, which only means that Dinah or Oliver could jump out at any moment, which would be bad because we live many stories up.
Back to the iGoogle Tea House Fox, as he's called. So you can have him too, in your personalized Google. He changes throughout the day! He has tea, does laundry, picks oranges, and fishes at night! And there is a night! And the little fishes in the pond move, I think. This is going to be like Where's Waldo, where I get to see what is different.
Another exciting thing. I have been watching a storm come down from Harlem all the way to our little block, and now it's very dark all around and I actually need to turn on some lights to see. When I say dark, I mean after dinner dark, but it's only 4pm. The wind is whipping through the kitchen. Love storms. Here comes the thunder. Gerdy has come over because she's scared, but she'll probably scamper into the bathroom in a minute, like anyone would in a thunderstorm to seek protection. Dinah has decided to curl up on my lap becauses it's 4pm and she's getting me ready aka annoying me, to feed her. Oh, Gerdy has decided against the bathroom in favor of my feet under the desk.
Ok, since you asked, here are pictures of Dinah and Oliver as hungry kitties:
And since you wondered what I did yesterday, here's a picture of the baby puppy that I held, who was born to a lovely Havanese dog (she got knocked up by a Pomeranian). This is the dog of Gerdy's dog walker. The mixed breed is actually called Ewokian, because they look like Ewoks. Cute!!
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But this post is about my new iGoogle fox friend that I found while doing a virtual demo with a nice sales guy at Vertical Response, an e-newsletter company. I saw that he had it on his computer, and I just HAD to have my own! I'm alone here during the day, and the grocery workers downstairs think I no longer work (when I get dressed up, they say: "Oh, you're going to work!?!), but I'm really not alone with Dinah, Oliver and Gerdy, and now the painter man named Abree, and his Pakistani roof-fixer friend who actually never fixes the roof the whole way hence the painter man. And then there's the Super, Derek, who comes every now and then when I call in a panic if I open the top part of the giant window in my studio and it's lost its springs and won't stay up, which only means that Dinah or Oliver could jump out at any moment, which would be bad because we live many stories up.
Back to the iGoogle Tea House Fox, as he's called. So you can have him too, in your personalized Google. He changes throughout the day! He has tea, does laundry, picks oranges, and fishes at night! And there is a night! And the little fishes in the pond move, I think. This is going to be like Where's Waldo, where I get to see what is different.
Another exciting thing. I have been watching a storm come down from Harlem all the way to our little block, and now it's very dark all around and I actually need to turn on some lights to see. When I say dark, I mean after dinner dark, but it's only 4pm. The wind is whipping through the kitchen. Love storms. Here comes the thunder. Gerdy has come over because she's scared, but she'll probably scamper into the bathroom in a minute, like anyone would in a thunderstorm to seek protection. Dinah has decided to curl up on my lap becauses it's 4pm and she's getting me ready aka annoying me, to feed her. Oh, Gerdy has decided against the bathroom in favor of my feet under the desk.
Ok, since you asked, here are pictures of Dinah and Oliver as hungry kitties:
And since you wondered what I did yesterday, here's a picture of the baby puppy that I held, who was born to a lovely Havanese dog (she got knocked up by a Pomeranian). This is the dog of Gerdy's dog walker. The mixed breed is actually called Ewokian, because they look like Ewoks. Cute!!
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"Split" Darkly Lights Up Chocolate Factory
This past Saturday, David and my Mista friend, Mista Suzy from the dog park, wizzed over to Long Island City in David's rental car to catch the final show of "Split," the debut performance by the new modern dance troupe Skove Works, which happens to be the love child of my brother's fiance, Lily Skove!
Forty-five minutes of straight dance? No intermission? No problem! It was a perfect dose of intense pieces of light, body movement, and the relationship between bodies together and bodies apart. Then again, all of Lily's works of art performed at the Chocolate Factory are this way, submerging you in some one's moment that blinks into forty-five.
Split offered the added bonus of again featuring a lighting design by my brother, TJ Hellmuth, adding this to the list of their collaborations. What a lucky team to be able to express themselves together in art, professions, and in love.
The Saturday night show was sold out. Mista Suzy and I sat on a cushion on the floor in front of the black performance area that is normally a white garage. The lights went to pitch dark, and the dancers filed in, some stepping on us because we were so close to the stage. The lights came on from the wings, but only pointedly. Five dancers dressed in delicate white camisoles for the three women and button down shirts for the two men spun and flew themselves around the stage in between the few beams of light, like lightening bugs or polka dots, mesmerizing the audience immediately as they disappeared into the deep black of the back of the stage.
Lights came up a bit as we watched a pixie but mighty woman/girl dance with a slender young man, who, with the other male dancer, was to lead the three women in several dances when the women weren't dancing on their own or together. At first we wondered about the relationship between the first male/female pair: rough lust...denial...abuse...? Their facial expressions were so blank, so washed of any expression, that their eyes almost looked sad and depleted. As the dance continued, rolling in and out of fused wrestling moves and other inspirations, what I mistook for roughness was actually in this reviewer's opinion, the physical strength required of the man to lift the pixie woman from the ground with his leg, into his arm, where she was to fall to the side, supported only by his hand under her neck, a move that was to be repeated by several combinations of the five dancers.
The two men danced together, and again our minds went to the sexual - to watch the relationship of two men dancing their relationship. But again we were mistaken. We watched two closely figured men weave in and out of their moves, and the more I watched, the more perfect and beautiful it became. They were actually my favorite dance because their sameness created a fluidity that was not matched by the other male/female or female/female pairs.
The most important take-away from the performance was watching the dancers use their body parts in ways that I only know from dreams and memories. If a dancing pair flung into a seated position on the ground, and the man's torso and arms were used to balance a curled woman from his neck onto the floor, then his feet hooked onto her from the inside - not a pointed toe or obvious grip - to move her. It was a perfect example of how you use your body parts without realizing it, and for people who don't dance, we really don't realize how much we use an arm muscle until it's injured.
The foot grab left a deja vou impression on me, and I resigned to the fact that my memory of using my foot as a hook or some other efficient way was lost in my mind. But the next morning as I was making my bed, I had leaned onto the bed to pull the quilt from between the wall, and as I did that, my foot had hooked on the other side of the mattress to balance me. And then I remembered, that this is a move I in fact do (almost) every morning when I make the bed. And as a child, when I climbed trees, my feet hooked on branches as I hung upside-down and pulled and twisted myself into a sitting position on a bottom branch. And in fact, I spin on my heel in the kitchen while cooking as I switch between counters, the sink, and throwing things into the trash in my own little night-time dinner dance.
Expect more from the young Skove Works. The collaborations with lighting designer TJ Hellmuth will add a mysterious depth that is his specialty. Whether he is working with animated clay in a dingy ally made up of foam core and black chalk for windows and dirt marks, or whether he is lighting animated chairs for a enchanted tea party in the mind of an ailing woman in her dementia in Lily's prior art piece in January '07, his signature lighting designs will always surprise and be the perfect seasoning as you ponder the show for hours or days afterward.
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Forty-five minutes of straight dance? No intermission? No problem! It was a perfect dose of intense pieces of light, body movement, and the relationship between bodies together and bodies apart. Then again, all of Lily's works of art performed at the Chocolate Factory are this way, submerging you in some one's moment that blinks into forty-five.
Split offered the added bonus of again featuring a lighting design by my brother, TJ Hellmuth, adding this to the list of their collaborations. What a lucky team to be able to express themselves together in art, professions, and in love.
The Saturday night show was sold out. Mista Suzy and I sat on a cushion on the floor in front of the black performance area that is normally a white garage. The lights went to pitch dark, and the dancers filed in, some stepping on us because we were so close to the stage. The lights came on from the wings, but only pointedly. Five dancers dressed in delicate white camisoles for the three women and button down shirts for the two men spun and flew themselves around the stage in between the few beams of light, like lightening bugs or polka dots, mesmerizing the audience immediately as they disappeared into the deep black of the back of the stage.
Lights came up a bit as we watched a pixie but mighty woman/girl dance with a slender young man, who, with the other male dancer, was to lead the three women in several dances when the women weren't dancing on their own or together. At first we wondered about the relationship between the first male/female pair: rough lust...denial...abuse...? Their facial expressions were so blank, so washed of any expression, that their eyes almost looked sad and depleted. As the dance continued, rolling in and out of fused wrestling moves and other inspirations, what I mistook for roughness was actually in this reviewer's opinion, the physical strength required of the man to lift the pixie woman from the ground with his leg, into his arm, where she was to fall to the side, supported only by his hand under her neck, a move that was to be repeated by several combinations of the five dancers.
The two men danced together, and again our minds went to the sexual - to watch the relationship of two men dancing their relationship. But again we were mistaken. We watched two closely figured men weave in and out of their moves, and the more I watched, the more perfect and beautiful it became. They were actually my favorite dance because their sameness created a fluidity that was not matched by the other male/female or female/female pairs.
The most important take-away from the performance was watching the dancers use their body parts in ways that I only know from dreams and memories. If a dancing pair flung into a seated position on the ground, and the man's torso and arms were used to balance a curled woman from his neck onto the floor, then his feet hooked onto her from the inside - not a pointed toe or obvious grip - to move her. It was a perfect example of how you use your body parts without realizing it, and for people who don't dance, we really don't realize how much we use an arm muscle until it's injured.
The foot grab left a deja vou impression on me, and I resigned to the fact that my memory of using my foot as a hook or some other efficient way was lost in my mind. But the next morning as I was making my bed, I had leaned onto the bed to pull the quilt from between the wall, and as I did that, my foot had hooked on the other side of the mattress to balance me. And then I remembered, that this is a move I in fact do (almost) every morning when I make the bed. And as a child, when I climbed trees, my feet hooked on branches as I hung upside-down and pulled and twisted myself into a sitting position on a bottom branch. And in fact, I spin on my heel in the kitchen while cooking as I switch between counters, the sink, and throwing things into the trash in my own little night-time dinner dance.
Expect more from the young Skove Works. The collaborations with lighting designer TJ Hellmuth will add a mysterious depth that is his specialty. Whether he is working with animated clay in a dingy ally made up of foam core and black chalk for windows and dirt marks, or whether he is lighting animated chairs for a enchanted tea party in the mind of an ailing woman in her dementia in Lily's prior art piece in January '07, his signature lighting designs will always surprise and be the perfect seasoning as you ponder the show for hours or days afterward.
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I Got Indie Loove
Just when I was feeling down in the dumps! ILoveIndie.blogspot.com wrote the sweetest indie love that I just needed. Sigh. She loves all things silk dupioni, and well, that's about all I have, plus some pleather dog treat bags. I even made Gerdy a velour and silk dupioni leash over the weekend, and then got intimidated by all of the 'real' leashes out there that have the typical cute ribbon pattern sewn onto a long strip of nylon ending in a silver hook. I can get a silver hook. But there are enough nylon leashes out there, right? Does every dog need to drag their leash through puddles? Gerdy doesn't, that's for sure. I just take it off or toss it on her back. That's why she gets chocolate brown velour and with a bright pink silk dupioni handle with the soft velour lining on the wrist. So soft. Pictures to come. :)
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Pout :: 'FashionMista' is Denied from Wikipedia
My valiant effort to right the world in the use of the word "fashionmista" was revoked by a Wikipedia editor, twice. The term "fashionmista," in this blog, means "fashion mouse." It was originally coined as the name of a cat toy for Dinah, who loved to knead my velvet bedspread. I figured that if I have velvet, then so must she. And so the fashion mouse for cats was born.Soon after, my friend created a blog. Her profile name was New York City Mouse and her blog was Country Mice in the City. It was my first direct exposure to a blog, and when I went to comment, I was prompted to enter a user name. Wanting to be part of the crowd, I used "fashionmista" as my adoptive mouse name in her blogger world.
This of course takes for granted that I guess no one else uses "mista" as a mouse in another language. I could have sworn that "mista" meant "mouse" in German or something. But apparently not. What has been happening, however, is this incorrect use of the word "fashionmista" to mean a male fashionista. This is most annoying, as I have my Google Alerts set to inform me of any use of the term "fashionmista." You can imagine my dismay when I read: "Look at that fashionmista strut his stuff!" Not that there is anything wrong with a male fashionista. But I'm not sure why an "m" would make it masculine, when there are already terms like "metrosexual." And anyway, a better term for a male fashionista could be "fashionhombre."
So, that's my sad confession. Wikipedia rejected my entry, not once, but twice, at first citing blatant advertising. Fair enough. I deleted a link to this site, and chopped the three paragraph long history of the term into one sentence about how a fashionmista is a fashion mouse for cats made of high quality fabrics. That's it. The end. I didn't mention how it was created for my design company, Katie James, or provide any links, or mention this blog. It was rejected a second time for blatant nonsense. I guess I have to sell a million fashionmistas and have a million visitors a day to this blog in order to be sense enough for Wikipedia. Harumph.
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My Friend Writes a Chic Lit Book
I'm mourning the ending of my A.M. Holmes book, lost and wandering without anything to read but Star's crossword puzzle and Suduko, when I get an email from a long silent friend that her new book is now available in stores and on Amazon! I think she's been holed up for a while editing it!Right Before Your Eyes, by Ellen Shanman, stars Liza, a spunky and spirited Yale graduate who intends with all certainty to become a famous playwrite. High rent and other costs of living in this insanely expensive city drive her to being a temp in an office. Liza has a goofy friend, two roommates, and a wicked tongue. She's smart, educated, and doesn't suffer fools gladly. Her world begins to shift when in the short span of a few days she meets a Wall Street baron who, when she falls and twists her ankle, he stays with her in the ER until she kicks him out. That's not all of the love interest your going to get. She asks out the ER doctor, a person lacking in passion but good husband material, and then is contacted by a struggling young director who wants to produce her play.
Dream come true? This will be a read for summer.
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Playing with Illustrator's Create a Pattern Brush
Cool! Look what I learned how to do with the "create a pattern bush" direction from Illustrator's Help section:
Ignore the ugly patterns. They are the generic swatches included in Illustrator's patterned swatches. See the leopard print? It is set to only show up when I do sharp corners. The tan square one is set to appear at the end of the brush - I guess between the last two anchor points. The middle pattern is for loops, I guess, and has a great kaleidoscope effect when it's stretched and looped. This should be fun when I make my own patterns!
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Ignore the ugly patterns. They are the generic swatches included in Illustrator's patterned swatches. See the leopard print? It is set to only show up when I do sharp corners. The tan square one is set to appear at the end of the brush - I guess between the last two anchor points. The middle pattern is for loops, I guess, and has a great kaleidoscope effect when it's stretched and looped. This should be fun when I make my own patterns!
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Apparently I'm Having an Affair...!
David borrowed my phone today while getting some acupuncture because his fancy new phone with a TV died because the TV sucks the battery life. I stayed home to write a tutorial for a Katie James Pixilated client's website, which was followed up by me making her a new leash out of some brown velour pants I don't wear, pink silk dupioni and the tan polka dot from the checkbook covers and jewelry pouches. It looks like a French circus.
I digress.
David got a text on my phone from a phone number, and called me about it. It said: "Piknik in park 2morrow." I blew it off because if there is no name above the text, and if it's just a number, then I don't have the contact saved. So I figured I was a wrong text.
Little did I know...David was having a jealous fest! Poor guy was treating himself to some golf clothes and an Irish cap of sorts, and trying very hard not to buy a new golf bag. He couldn't put out of his mind who this dog walker picnic could be! That I would be having a picnic with them - correction - a picnic with HIM.
So David texted back. He TEXTED back on my behalf, without telling me (he just told me about this now that he's home, which is how I'm telling you). He texted back: "Can David come?" and the Mystery Texter said: "Let's say 12 until whenever on great hill...Enter on (address deleted to protect FashionMista). I will bring drinks, u bring whatever and whomever."
Ahh! I've been caught red handed! Just kidding. I truly didn't know the number, but with the directions, it had to have been someone I know, so I called the number, and found out who it is. And it is a man. Who might be bringing together a bunch of people for a picnic on one of those mass texts. I rarely drink on a weekend afternoon because there are things I want to do! And the drink slows the motivation. So that's the story of how I was caught.
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I digress.
David got a text on my phone from a phone number, and called me about it. It said: "Piknik in park 2morrow." I blew it off because if there is no name above the text, and if it's just a number, then I don't have the contact saved. So I figured I was a wrong text.
Little did I know...David was having a jealous fest! Poor guy was treating himself to some golf clothes and an Irish cap of sorts, and trying very hard not to buy a new golf bag. He couldn't put out of his mind who this dog walker picnic could be! That I would be having a picnic with them - correction - a picnic with HIM.
So David texted back. He TEXTED back on my behalf, without telling me (he just told me about this now that he's home, which is how I'm telling you). He texted back: "Can David come?" and the Mystery Texter said: "Let's say 12 until whenever on great hill...Enter on (address deleted to protect FashionMista). I will bring drinks, u bring whatever and whomever."
Ahh! I've been caught red handed! Just kidding. I truly didn't know the number, but with the directions, it had to have been someone I know, so I called the number, and found out who it is. And it is a man. Who might be bringing together a bunch of people for a picnic on one of those mass texts. I rarely drink on a weekend afternoon because there are things I want to do! And the drink slows the motivation. So that's the story of how I was caught.
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Craving Anthropology - A Whole Blog About It!
My God! What a brilliant idea to create a blog around precious things about Anthropology! A CravingAnthropology blog. Wish I had thought of it! Instead, will read it happily. Found it from the Juniper Designs blog, which I found on DelightfulBlogs.com, which is a sister site of Delight.com, my new shopping happy place. And I wouldn't have found DelightfulBlogs.com without the delightful clicking by Melissa of the TheMatchstickGroup.com.
Whew! That was a mouthful.
And am watching the 2 hour Grays! I think I'm going to like the new Addison show! And I need a red convertable.
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Whew! That was a mouthful.
And am watching the 2 hour Grays! I think I'm going to like the new Addison show! And I need a red convertable.
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Working Girl Salad Recipe w Tuna
Pretty much, a typical lunch for me, even when I worked in an office, is a tuna melt with cheddar cheese that I wolf down and then feel protein-ed after. But I need to broaden my range. I can't keep eating these thoughtless tuna melts, or my brain might just turn into mayonnaise, tuna and cheddar.So I've started a pursuit of a few good salads to make at home. I started by going to a cafe down the street, spent $7.95 for a little salad inspiration, and here's what I've got:
The Working Girl Salad Recipe with Tuna
Note: helpful to fix salad while listening to The Little Willies.This salad will be mainly fresh tasting vegetables and a scoop and a half of tuna salad.
Prep time: 7 minutes (if you've prepared the tuna salad already)
1 cucumber
1 small squash
1 small root of ginger
1 New Jersey vine tomato
1 avocado
1 lemon
1 bunch of cilantro
generous amount of Kraft parmesan
2 cans Bumblebee Tuna (or if you do organic or brand of choice)
1/2 tablespoon butter
2 spoonfuls mayonnaise
lettuce that is purple on top
lettuce that is very green and leafy
15 spinach leaves (for folic acid)
Balentino sea salt (don't fear the salt)
Ziploc bags
Prepare the tuna salad in advance (see tuna salad recipe below). You can keep scooping from it.
In a small pan on medium heat (high heat if you have an electric stove), spread melted butter over the surface. Slice about 9 slices of the squash, and spread evenly in the pan. While it is cooking, put the amount of lettuce onto your plate that you want, and rip into bite-sized pieces. Slice about 5 thin slices of cucumber and put onto the salad. Cut the tomato in half and put one half in a Ziploc bag. Slice the other half into thin slices and place next to pile of cucumbers. Halve the avocado by cutting into it lengthwise and cutting around the pit. Twist the avocado apart and put the half that has the pit in it into a ziploc bag and into the fridge. Salt the other half of the avocado and lightly cut into 8ths. Run the knife under the avocado (but above the skin) close to the skin to scoop out the slices you just created, and lightly squeeze them onto the lettuce.
Oops, don't forget about those squashes. Turn the squashes with a fork and knife, and let the other side absorb the butter. Let sit for about 2 minutes, and then sprinkle with Kraft parmesan to taste. The parmesan should absorb the butter and start to look golden. That is when you know they are done.
Scoop the tuna salad into the center of the lettuce. Scoop the amount of tuna salad that you feel like eating. The squash should be done, so turn off the stove, take the pan and spread the parmasan squash over the salad. This puts the salad over the top!
You need dressing. Squeeze a thick slice of lemon over the entire salad. Voila! Make sure to get a bite of tuna with every bite!
Tuna Salad Recipe with Ginger
Makes about 3 meals with a lettuce salad.Dump the two cans of tuna into a bowel, and quickly chop with a fork to make it into little pieces. Scoop two spoonfuls of mayo into the bowel. Take the ginger root and with a sharp knife (be careful!) lightly peel the outside part off of the piece of ginger you wish to use. Also with the knife, shred small pieces of ginger into the bowel of tuna. Do this to taste, or use about 15-20 little shreds. Rip a small handful of cilantro from the bunch and chop. Pour it into the bowel of tuna. Sprinkle salt to taste. Mix the contents, and store under cling wrap in the fridge.
I'm not going to lie. My love handles are thanking me! Even when I finish the yumminess of the parmesan cooked squash, my love handles are still giddy! You could even make this the night before and bring to your office.
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Vote Katie James at StyleBakery!
Hey! Vote Katie James for best Accessories (or Gifts) in the 3rd annual Designers on the Rise at StyleBakery! Katie James may not crank out the most products in town, but we create each one with high quality fabrics in yummy color combinations. Where else can you get a tan on brown floppy french terrycloth burp cloth? And who else gives you free hand-drawn desktop wallpaper art? Who loves you, baby?
Katie James accessories are currently made in the USA, specifically in the Garment District of New York City, and in Alabama by women who are taught the craft of sewing so that they can work. Katie James is funded by direct purchases from wonderful clients and tax returns at the end of the year for bigger production runs, thanks to a wonderful accountant.
Cousin Jeff Terrell Goes to NFL!!
Yay!! My not so little cousin has just signed with the Kansas City Cheifs after bringing Princeton out of destruction and into many victories. I'd hear about Jeff's committment to the team and to the sport while we were home at Christmas parties. He talked of the hard work of balancing an academic career at Pricenton while improving on the field. The early years were tough, and he spent the first two on the bench. Jeff ended up leading his team to the Ivy League title, and winning the Bushnell Cup.Says Jeff in The Daily Princetonian talking about watching now St. Louis Rams backup quarterback (unfortunately) beat Princeton: "I remember sitting there on the sidelines thinking, 'This guy's good, he's quite a player,' " Jeff recalled. "That was my goal, although it was pretty far-fetched: doing what Ryan could do with Harvard, winning the title and the award and going to the NFL."
This is so exciting, because Jeff is so humble, loves the sport, and is very open minded about his future. Last year, while David was at a Giant's game, I flipped around the channels and caught Jeff in a game against...I can't remember now, but it was two games before the Yale game (which they won), and Jeff looked great!
Read all about it at The Daily Princetonian. Photo by Bernard Rocca and borrowed from The Daily Princetonian.
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