To the Daughters of Stuart Scott

Graduated Summa Cum Laude from Saint Louis University
in 2008.  Finance and Accounting Double Major?  Jack
was over the freakin' moon.

I can't stop thinking about Stuart Scott's daughters today.  Ever since my phone buzzed with the USA Today notification of Stu's passing, I have wondered where his daughters were, who they were with, and how they were doing in these first few hours.  Their Dad's battle just ended, but their battle is just beginning, like a baton that has been passed in a macabre relay race.  When I watched the interview with Stu's then fourteen year old daughter in the piece produced for the Jimmy V ESPY award, which Stuart received, I saw myself.  Her words communicated hope and optimism but her eyes conveyed realism.  I wish I could just sit with her for a spell and let her just… be… with someone who might be able to impart a bit of "yup, I have stood in your shoes".  Since I cannot, I figured I would jot down what was swirling in my head all day as I thought of her, her sister, and their Dad:

The stages of grief should come with a really big disclaimer - may be experienced in an order different than advertised.  The second after I watched my Dad leave, I was in acceptance. I had been preparing myself for his death for months.  I knew he wasn't going to walk me down the aisle or meet any of my children.  He was my person and he had been in pain during his battle so, in all honesty, I wanted it over and done with for his sake.  He was holding on for me, my brothers and my Mom because he felt like the alternative was pure abandonment of us.  When he was trying to decide whether to cease treatment, he asked me if I was going to be okay.  His face was filled with worry and guilt while tears welled in his eyes.  I rarely lied to my Dad but, without hesitation, I serenely told him the biggest fib of my entire life: I said I'd be fine.  I could lie because I had accepted that this was a chapter in our family's saga - this is how the main character exited.

Since acceptance is the last stage of grief, I naively thought I was done.  Jackson had spent the better part of my life reinforcing the idea that I was advanced and all around awesome.  So what better way to grieve him than in an advanced way that honored how he saw me?  Yay!  Grief over!  Maybe I didn't lie to him - I'm SO FINE!  A family friend told my Mom our entire family was as stoic and composed during the service as the Kennedy Family.  I loved Jackie O, so this was another win in my book.  

Fast forward 9 months and I was in the fetal position on my fuzzy bathmat next to my sink.  I can't really call what I was doing "crying", it felt more like a howl with tears.  What caused this breakdown? I lost my drivers license when out at a bar with my best friend.  As I was washing my face, I remembered another time I lost my license and how I called my Dad all pissed off that I had to deal with the DMV on a Saturday and he basically laughed at me.  During this recollection, I said four words that opened a floodgate that had been building for almost a year: He's Never Coming Back.  Kristen came running into the bathroom.  She couldn't really hug me seeing as I was face down on the floor, using the bathmat to muffle my screams, so she just covered me.  She used her whole body to weigh me down, as if she was doing anything she could think of to make sure I didn't go completely out of myself.

Ever since that moment, the "bathroom floor moment", I have hopped around the various stages of grief.  Everyone is different, no one goes in the order the textbook lays out.  The textbook is full of shit.  That was the main concept that was at the forefront of my mind when I heard about Stuart Scott and I thought of his daughters.  What I would tell them is this: just as no person's cancer is the same, no one person's grief after losing a loved one to cancer is the same.  Sometimes you won't even be able to relate to your immediate family: your Mom's loss of a husband (or in your case, your Dad's girlfriend's loss of a partner) is NOT the same as the loss of a father.  One is not worse or easier than the other.  They are just different.  Your sibling?  It may seem like the same loss on a superficial level but it is not - did they have a few more years than you?  On some dark days, this can create feelings of resentment.  Was Dad present for a few more of their life milestones?  This can put you in the anger stage of grief faster than you can say "hope you enjoyed your wedding".  Who will you talk to when something happens that reminds you of that thing only you and him did together?  A lot of people knew your Dad but only you know YOU & DAD.  Your relationship was unique, which means your grief will also be unique.  

Your Dad seemed to do all he could to make sure his disease didn't define him.  Mine too.  I will tell you, it will be just as hard not to let his death be what defines you.  I struggle with it everyday.  I don't want to be the girl with the dead Dad, but when one has a Dad as so utterly fantastic and larger than life as ours were, there is something enticing about letting the loss of him be your story, more so as the hours become days and the months turn into years.  I am currently trying to reframe this thought so my definition is more that I am his living legacy, but it can be a struggle.  This isn't going to be easy for you but you will get through it.  You will get through it because you are his living legacy, no matter which stage of grief you are in.

Crazy, Cats, Quirks and All

I'm sorry that you don't think I'm as great as I think I am.

That is on you.

You can't make me feel small.

In fact, come to think of it, I'm not sorry.

Crazy, cats, quirks and all.

Shake it like a...

See Time Zero on Netflix!

I just watched the most heartwarming documentary: Time Zero: The Last Year of Polaroid Film.  If you are a vintage-loving nostalgia sufferer like me, you will love this.  It chronicles the rise and fall of instant film and interviews employees on the "Apple of the sixties".  I found myself wishing I lived in the late fifties or early sixties so I could work there.  The film interlaces the stories of current photographers and artists that still use instant film as their medium of choice.  It apex of the story is when Polaroid decides to cease production of instant film and the remaining stock around the world dwindles.  A group of people come together to start The Impossible Project in order to re-engineer production of instant film using chemicals widely available and safe today.

I think the reason I'm drawn to Polaroids is my affinity for nostalgia.  The photographs have a color palate that I can only achieve using a filter in Instagram.  I find myself using a word that many of the people interviewed in the documentary used: warm.  The photographs feel warm, the memories feel warm, the tangible photograph that is instantly provided feels warm.

This warmth of instant film is also the reason I am drawn to other analog forms.  Handwritten thank you notes are better than an e-mail, text or even phone call.  Listening to vinyl records on Christmas morning with my brother the year I got him a turntable sounded so much fuller than our CDs or MP3s.  I keep trying to figure out how to set up a "dark room" in the bathroom of every apartment I live in.  I knit, I crochet and I make pizza dough from scratch.  I feel such sense of joy going back to the basics.  Sometimes, in my opinion, the "efficiencies" gained for us by technology and modern advancements take us past the point of diminishing returns - what have we lost to gain it?

Vintage Armul Polaroid

These are the only digitized Polaroids I have saved...

In summary, watch the documentary and join me in scouring vintage shops for a Polaroid instant film camera.  I suddenly feel the urge to add one to my shelf so my other analog camera has a friend.  Also, many things have happened in my life since my last post: new city, new pet, new job.  It was an experiment to test that I am, in fact, actually in charge of my life.  Weird, huh?  One thing is for sure… a bigger city gives me better odds for scoring a deal on a Polaroid at a vintage shop.

If You Are a Dreamer...

My best friend had her baby shower last week.  The new trend is requesting guests to bring a book instead of a card to help build the baby's library.  I walked into Target trying to think of a book that would capture both my 15 year relationship with Kristen (and still going strong) and everything I wanted the little nugget to learn from his or her Auntie Katy.  My eyes fell to Shel Silverstein's Where the Sidewalk Ends and while it wasn't a baby book, I could see the values Kristen and I share in every page of the poetry.  The inside jacket of the book has his poem "Invitation" ---->

by Shel Silverstein Where the Sidewalk Ends

I have always been a dreamer, a wisher and a pretender.  And, while I probably shouldn't admit this, I am a pretty good liar (it goes along with the whole pretender thing).  I have so many dreams I want to test out before I die.  I want to build my own tiny house (see Tumbleweed Tiny Houses) and buy a plot of land and live in it while paying off all my debts and simplifying everything.  I want to put the house on wheels and experience living in places like San Francisco, Seattle, Boston and Maine.  I want to try living in a big city and living in the middle of nowhere.  I want to blog about how I still cook and bake and live happily in a tiny house.  I would be free to find my happy.  I dream of being a teacher - the dream changes from little kids to college aged "kids".  I would love to be in a musical just once, even if in the chorus.  I dream of building a darkroom in my apartment and go back to taking pictures wherever I go, on real film, and developing them myself.  I dream of being a mother and teaching my children that quirky is good and anything can happen.  I have so many dreams, I lose track of them all as they slip out of my ears as another one is born in my brain.

by Shel Silverstein Where the Sidewalk Ends

I have been restless for some time and I think while I can't quite follow any of these dreams just yet, I can start enacting change in my life to put myself on the path of change.  I love Cleveland, but my dreams involve seeing other places.  I love the people at my job, but my job doesn't embody quirky and independent.  So, my readers, I have accepted a job (still as an accountant) at a quirky company in Chicago.  While I'm not in a tiny house with no set job, I am shedding the required busy season and going to a company with a unique culture.  I am scared.  I will miss Cleveland a lot.  But this is something I have to do.  I can't be a magic bean buyer if I don't ever head to the market.

Have you been keeping up on your dreaming?

Workout Your Brain With Hobbies!

Humans are meant to create.  Hobbies are cultivated from what a person enjoys doing when they could be doing whatever they want.  I have found, especially with my peers, that hobbies are disappearing.  If any hobbies are engaged in at all, they tend to be athletically driven like running, hiking or cycling.  I workout for endorphins, health and clarity; however, if I could have a fit and toned body without working out?  Those 45 minutes would most definitely be spent doing something else.  Therefore, for the sake of this post, I'm referencing creative hobbies.  I'm talking about painting, singing, photography, writing, baking, gardening, playing an instrument, wood-working or party planning.  Something that makes the left side of your brain ramp up and start firing on all cylinders.

Creative hobbies can benefit your professional life, too.  There has been a plethora of papers and articles supporting the connection between having a creative hobby and increased mental dexterity in the workplace.  Evernote's Phil Libin wrote a piece for Inc. magazine about teaching himself piano in his 40's:

"When you learn a new skill, you learn new patterns. And then you start seeing these patterns interwoven into the familiar world. The impenetrable becomes less so. Things you always knew, you now know better […] I feel the effects at the office.  I'm smarter than I was a few months ago, with new ways of seeing things, a new mental vocabulary, and greater cognitive dexterity.  I feel more creative than ever, and I get more done every day."

I feel this myself.  Knitting during busy season quiets my brain.  My head no longer spins about how many audit reports I need to issue, how I can get my team to have more attention to detail, or when I'm going to have that difficult conversation with the client.  If I focused on those things instead of my knitting, I'll screw it up.  Knitting is repeating patterns, math, and a balance of tension… basically a mental workout that hones skills I use in the workplace.  Plus, in the end, I created something and creation taps into your four year old self's "look what I did!" pride.

So try it - for ten minutes build a city in the original Sim City game you haven't touched since you were nine (or maybe you were a Rollercoaster Tycoon kind of kid?).  Find some colored pencils and just doodle.  Bake a cake even if it isn't someone's birthday.  Our society is craving creative outlets - why else would Pinterest and Etsy be booming?  You don't have to share it with anyone… you don't have to be good at it.  View it as CrossFit for your brain.

a self-focused summer

Something that I know for sure?  In the end, you really only have yourself.  Yes, you can fill your life with family, friends and mentors.  Allowing yourself to rely on others is important as it helps to share burdens and makes you accessible to loved ones in return.  The issue is that relationships change, people die and priorities shift.  The only relationship that is 100% guaranteed is the one you have with yourself, which is why it is so interesting that this is the relationship most neglect.

New workout program: Kayla Itsine's Bikini
Body Guide.  My face after day one… ouch.

I have recently felt disconnected from people in my life.  Most have become self-focused in order to concentrate on various life changes.  I felt forgotten until I realized that I could use this opportunity to also become self-focused.  In this spirit, I have been invoking changes to increase the happy and decrease the unhappy.  I am dialing back my spending because being broke makes me unhappy.  I started a new workout program because I missed feeling like a boss.  I am trying to say "yes" only to things that I want to say "yes" to.  I'm going outside as much as possible.  I am watching Full House reruns whenever they are on Nick@Nite.  I am conducting a thorough soul searching mission to identify what more can be done to get my joy back.

To fuel up for big life changes, I needed a big breakfast today.  However, my typical Sunday pancakes, high in refined carbohydrates, probably aren't the best foundation to support all my grand plans.  Therefore, I gave the new "it" breakfast a try.  The three ingredient pancake is all over the Internet and it was only a matter of time before I succumbed to the trend.

My favorite traditional pancake recipe is Barefoot Contessa's sour cream banana pancakes.  My 3-ingredient interpretation uses the same flavor profile.  Only problem?  My ingredient count is at five.  So here is Katy's Five Ingredient Three Ingredient Pancakes (say that five times fast… or three times fast… or five times three times fast?)

Ingredients: 

• 1 medium banana (3/4 mashed, 1/4 small dice)
• 2 large eggs, beaten
• Spoonful of plain greek yogurt
• Dash of vanilla extract
• Almond meal (about 1/8 - 1/4 cup, just enough for pancake batter consistency)

Directions:

1. Preheat greased pan over medium heat
2. Combine eggs, mashed banana, yogurt and vanilla in small bowl, mix well
3. Add almond meal slowly while mixing, stopping when desired consistency is reached
4. Fold in diced banana, reserving a few pieces for garnish
5. Pour batter into pan and cook pancakes until golden brown, then flip (time depends on your pancake size, mine took about 5 minutes)
6. Plate pancakes, cover with desired toppings such as local organic maple syrup and 'nannies

Do you have any self improvement goals on the docket?

High Divers and Try On-ers

Homecoming 2003 = Awesome

I have come to the conclusion, when it comes to relationships, that there are two types of people in the world: high divers and try on-ers.

I am a classic high diver. I tend to get all my questions answered up front and it takes time to sort out my feelings before I pass go and collect $200. Each rung up the ladder is carefully considered because I want to look over that edge, past my toes to the water below, without a single doubt about diving off the platform.  This means I've experienced very few relationships, but they are typically long lived ones. In short: if I say I'm interested... I'm very interested. I don't see the point in wasting my time with someone that my gut says is a maybe.

I would equate my best friend a try on-er.  A try on-er participates in the more classic approach to dating, where a date doesn't mean you're a couple.  Rather, a date is time spent getting to know someone with the goal of determining if a second date should occur. My best friend rarely said no to a date and, in the process, met a lot of amazing people (and a lot of duds). A date without a romantic spark wasn't a failure because it was still getting a chance to meet someone new.  My best friend was "trying on" different types of people- if she didn't open herself up she could miss who would be perfect for her. She never had an answer to what her "type" was because her type was yet to be determined.  It would be who ultimately swept her off her feet.

We were Yin and Yang. I didn't see the point in dinner with someone who clearly wasn't what she wanted, and she didn't understand why I thought weeding out the frogs wasn't worth the hassle.  I believed my method was the better way because my instinct was honed to know when someone could turn into Someone and worth investing time in.  She felt her way brought adventure and taught her lessons about herself that she wouldn't have learned on her own.  I now see there isn't a right way and a wrong way because the methods aren't choices.  I'm just a high diver and she's a try on-er.

My best friend found what she had been in the fitting room of life looking for.  Last month, he proposed in grand fashion while on vacation and I'm so thrilled it is slightly embarrassing (I plan to do my best to stop saying "we" as if I'm some how including in the pending union).  It's going to be a busy but fun year.

Is my friend's happiness and success enough to tempt me to try on being a try on-er? Heck no. That water is really far down and I will continue to climb that ladder only when I feel a swan dive coming on. The high dive quickly becomes a plank if I'm not careful.  Once a high diver, always a high diver.

Which are you?

Blush for the Holidays

I love Thanksgiving. What's not to love? It is the kickoff to the holidays and it centers around cooking and food. Whoopie! I usually get a severe case of post-Christmas blues on December 26th.  With Thanksgiving, much to my delight, the end only leads to more holiday happiness! Plus, I can finally listen to Christmas music since long ago I vowed to judge anyone that indulges before Turkey Day.

My mom and I are Turkey Day kitchen rock stars. We have the two day cook-a-thon down to a science. I thrive making our renowned recipes, doing dishes to the '80s Pandora station with my siblings and watching Elf while eating leftovers. I also used to hunt for a special outfit for the meal. While this year I am trying to "behave" financially and not buy anything new, it doesn't hurt to pretend! I am drawn to geometric patterns, nude shimmers, and a lot of blush tones for Thanksgiving 2013.

J.Crew pixie judhpur pant, J.Crew color block intarsia sweater, Tom Ford show me pink nail lacquer, Bobbi Brown lip gloss in buff, Bobbi Brown sequin shimmer brick eye palate, Kate Spade lynda rose gold pump, and Miss Dior eau de parfum

What are you planning on donning this Turkey Day?

Leader of the Band

Do you ever have a moment where you are listening to a song that you've heard a million times before, but never were truly listening, and suddenly you realize how much the lyrics mirror your life?  I was cleaning out my closet (a favorite pastime of a Type A organized control freak) and was floored by a Dan Fogelberg song that I've grown up with.  Maybe my brain made the connection between the lyrics and my life because time is closing in on two years without Jackson.  Whatever the reason, I think Mr. Fogelberg (who also lost his battle with prostate cancer too young) gave a melody and words to the unique connection I had with my Dad.  While we were/are such a close knit family, I was the only one who elected to follow a similar path to the one he chose thirty years before.

An excerpt from Leader of the Band by Dan Fogelberg:

The leader of the band is tired 

And his eyes are growing old 
But his blood runs through my instrument 
And his song is in my soul 

My life has been a poor attempt 

To imitate the man 

I'm just a living legacy 

To the leader of the band 

My brothers' lives were different 

For they heard another call 

One went to Chicago 

And the other to St. Paul 

And I'm in Colorado 

When I'm not in some hotel 

Living out this life I've chose 

And come to know so well 

I thank you for the music 

And your stories of the road 

I thank you for the freedom 

When it came my time to go 

I thank you for the kindness 

And the times when you got tough 

And, papa, I don't think I 

Said 'I love you' near enough 

I am a living legacy to the leader of the band

I am almost certain that Mr. Fogelberg did not intend for me to equate "my instrument" to my brain, "his song" to finance and accounting, and "to imitate the man" to... well... living, laughing and loving just like him to the best of my abilities.  While Scott did move to Chicago, BJ is definitely not in St. Paul.  And I was in a hotel room in Wooster, Ohio this past week, not Colorado.  I am sure Dan Fogelberg would appreciate; however, how much this song speaks to me now.  Thank you, Dan Fogelberg, for singing a song that makes becoming a CPA just like her Daddy sound WAY COOLER than it actually is.  Could you find Jack and sing Part of the Plan together on September 22nd?  I would greatly appreciate it.

Searching

Attempt at finding balance or just recreating a scene
from Dirty Dancing?

Long time, no talk.

When I get busy or stressed (or busy and stressed), my choice method of survival is to cut out all nonessential activities. Thus, the past couple weeks have been focused on work and work trips. Bye bye blogging. However, I was called out. Recently, a friend of mine, out of the blue, mentioned that I hadn't written a new post in over a month. Busted. The more amazing thing is this person, with whom I have a "pen pal-esque" friendship, went on to persuade me to start writing again because it helps "sort things out". How could someone that I have not seen physically in five years know something was  amiss? I must be wearing my life disarray on my sleeve (and in my texts).

The past few months, I have felt like I am searching for something- yet I have absolutely no idea what. My Internet searches provide just a glimpse of my intense hunt for something, anything, to make this sense of unbalance, upheaval and "on the brink of _?___" subside.

Reunions are good for the soul - see below

Acupuncture, crossfit, gluten free, vegan before six, meditation, bikram yoga, spas in Cleveland, bikes, bed and breakfasts, Barre Method, Physique 57, 10K running plans, Ayurveda coaches, hypnotherapy, aromatherapy, voice lessons, community theater musicals, Cleveland museums, jobs in fashion, Cleveland real estate.

See? All over the place. Do I need a diet change, a job change, a new residence, a new workout routine, a wellness plan, a day away, a new hobby, a creative outlet... WHAT DO I WANT?

The answer is there is no answer. I have no idea what I want. However, I am not fretting like I would have at a younger age. At 27, I have started to identify a pattern. Every five years or so, I flip out. It is emotionally, physically, and spiritually apparent. My typically confident, radiant and put together self becomes soft, emotional, indecisive and whiny. I even look different. I know it sounds weird, but just take my word for it. Last time it happened, I was 22 and studying abroad at Oxford. I started worrying about my worrying (never good) because it made no sense to me.  I was in an amazing place, partaking in a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and yet I was out of sorts. This time, having identified the pattern, I'm just letting it ride and allowing my Internet searches to go wild.

Since this blog is supposed to be me, the renaissance woman, imparting her knowledge (knowing a little about a whole lot), I will share a list of things I have found to help in times like this:

Don't wait five years to play again like we did.

- Old friends: reconnect with people who remind you of who you normally are. They will start to bring her back out. Lucky for me, I recently had a reunion of college friends in Chicago for Cards/Cubs weekend. It was perfect timing and was perfect for my soul. I'm still smiling.

- Do what you did when you were seven: I used to lock myself in my bedroom for hours when I was little and sing and dance around and put on concerts for my pets. So recently, Stella has been getting set lists heavily weighted in divas (Mariah, Celine, Vanessa Williams, Brit Brit, KP). It makes me happy to sing at the top of my lungs.

- Get out of your own head: My brother and Toresil just bought a house. While in Chicago, I helped them pack and move for a day (for everyone who knows the family joke of me somehow always moving Scott, commence laughter now). They thought I was being such a help to them; however, what they don't know is how nice it was to be super busy and focused on other people. All I could think about was the best way to fit boxes in my car, how to wrap wedding champagne flutes so they wouldn't shatter, and the number of boxes could I carry down three flights of stairs without dying.  I also felt so loved being included in such a landmark event of their new lives together. I get to say I was there the day the first box was carried into that house, which I'm sure Toresil has already made into a home. 

Freaking adorable.

I have a few new favorite things I need to share as well as a few things on my radar that I really freaking want, so stay tuned

Do you ever feel off center for no apparent reason at all?

Sorry for Homewrecking?

Cleveland Sunrises Lead to Self Reflection?

I have a reputation among my friends. If I am out socializing and there is a guy (typically All-American, quick witted and self deprecating) I happen to be intrigued by - he will, without question, have a girlfriend. I will find out eventually (when I find out is typically based on the character of the guy) and curse the sky as I exclaim, "all the good ones are taken!".

I have spent a lot of time attempting to uncover the root cause of why I am attracted to attached men and why (more often than is normal) attached guys are drawn to me. Theories I kicked around in my analytical brain:

- I have a low self esteem/assessment of my self worth and I put out a vibe into the world that being second fiddle is all that I deserve.

- I'm a competitive Type-A personality who loves a challenge.

- I love being on my own and so, sub-consciously, I'm only allowing myself to be pulled to guys who won't result in someone upsetting the order in my life.

- Did I mention I'm competitive?

The Men of My Life (BJ Looks THRILLED... Scott Looks HUNGRY)

The more I thought about these options, the more none of them seemed to make sense. Yes, I am competitive; however, I'm a huge proponent of the "true love" thing and enjoy when couples find each other. Plus, when I find out guys who flirt back have girlfriends I get pissed and feel like I broke the "girl code". 

The whole self worth issue? I just don't see it. Sure, I am a nurturer by nature, which sometimes can result in getting taken advantage of. But that doesn't mean I think I deserve being used. The first three men in my life were/are fantastic. My Dad and brothers most likely instilled in me a sense that I am more awesome than I actually am. They think I'm fun and smart and they are the bestest, so based upon the theories of thermal dynamics, physics and GAAP based accounting, I am all of those things! (I took some liberties in assuming my brothers currently think I'm fun and smart. For the sake of this blog post, it is probably best not to check with them regarding their true thoughts).

Awesome Guys @ Polka Dance With Matching
Fedoras.  See?  Not Trying to Impress is
AWESOME!

So then what could it be? What is causing me to be attracted to unavailable dudes? I had an epiphany the other day- I'm not drawn to guys because they have girlfriends... I'm drawn to how guys carry themselves when they have girlfriends. At my age, I have found the dating game to be obnoxious. Men at bars try to find a balance of Mr. Moneybags, Joe Cool, Too Cool For School, and Sir Pompous. I like guys who aren't afraid to take sass as much as they dish out. I would rather have fun dancing like an idiot and laughing too loud than appearing "cool". And I don't care if you think you dress well... Everyone has their own style so can I just be the judge of that myself instead of you telling me?

Guys with girlfriends typically aren't out to impress- they are out to have fun. No large production is run to get attention or promulgate a false image. Therefore, you see the real person, they are relaxed, and a girl's "douche radar" stays quiet all evening. 

I'm better about spotting attached dudes since I know my track record. However, to fix the problem, can all the single guys just turn off the smooth talking sleaze switch to hang out and have fun? I guarantee you my friends and I will be drawn to you and will fall off our chairs when we learn you're single.

Did you ever notice any patterns in your dating life?

My First Foray Into "Clean Cosmetics"

At least I've made it to a Tribe game!

I can't believe July is officially half over.  Where is the summer going?  I haven't gone to Cedar Point yet!  The good thing?  PEACHES ARE RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER!  I am pretty sure I am the only 26 year old (not for much longer) young professional who drives to Vermillion, Ohio by herself at least once an August to stock up on peaches.  I have grand plans of pies, crumbles, ice cream and muffins that are typically usurped by the fact that all the peaches are gone by day four.  The only evidence of their existence are the pits in my trashcan and the juices still sticky on my hand (and most likely running down my wrist).  Nom noms.

Starting a month ago, I have been mentioning my desire to veer my entire beauty and self-care routine to "clean" products.  It can be overwhelming both on your psyche and your wallet to switch everything over at once.  Thus, I've been doing it piece by piece.  My first batch was my "face" makeup (i.e. foundation/concealer, blush, powder, highlighter).  Based on the countless blogs and reviews praising RMS Beauty's line of... well... all of the above, I ordered some samples from Spirit Beauty Lounge to determine my "Un" Cover Up shade would be 11 and my Lip2Cheek shade would be Modest.  I rounded out the purchases with the much praised Living Luminizer and "Un" Powder.

For the specific ingredient discussion, the story behind how this exceptionally "clean" brand was born from Rose Marie Swift's amazing head, and the scariness behind the additives that are lurking in your current products and amazingly absent from this line please visit RMS Beauty's website.

The words that come to mind when summarizing these products are dewy (if you want them to be), light, and nurturing.  The coconut oil base of the foundation, blush and highlighter help soothe my skin.  It doesn't feel as if makeup is sitting ON your skin but, rather, the products are being absorbed by your skin.  It sounds very "mumbo jumbo-ish"; however, I can feel my skin being able to breath with these products.  I haven't quite mastered the art of cream blush application; however, I am sure I will only get better with time.  Some days I look healthy and pretty... other days I am sporting the flush of a five mile run in the dead of summer.  Whoops.  The good thing is the highlighter provides some margin for error since it can correct some of the color when I get the blush too close to my nose or eyes.

My one complaint is that since the foundation has such a luminous and light texture, it isn't the greatest at masking my dark under-eye circles (yet is fantastic at hiding little zit marks?  Riddle me that!).  However, the magnitude of my circles (due to my extremely porcelain skin essentially being see-through) is greater than most.  I have ordered samples of a few heavier products from Spirit Beauty Lounge to see if I can add a product exclusively for concealing to the mix.  All in all, I am VERY thrilled with my first attempt into the world of clean beauty.  It does a body good!

In other news, expect more quirkiness (!) from me as my new obsession starts permeating this blog - I am halfway through reading Ayurveda For Dummies and I find it all so fascinating.  My dosha is Pitta, a fiery perfectionist that has a tendency to stress out, speed through life and become envious easily.  Sounds about right.

Who is ready for the best day of the entire year tomorrow?

Mopey Monday

Nothing is worse than a Monday morning after a long holiday weekend.  I delayed going to bed last night because "that made it real". I went to the gorgeous Palace Theater in Playhouse Square last night to catch Book of Mormon with friends. Step 1: hilarious. Step 2: wish it were longer since I could have sat there laughing all night. Step 3: I want to be a chorus singer/dancer in Broadway shows. I'd settle for quirky (!) off Broadway productions. Heck, maybe I'll just start dancing and singing in the street wherever I go and cross my fingers that a bunch of people join in, knowing the words and steps.  That is how it works in ALL my favorite movies.

At least back to work means back to a routine. I ate myself silly this weekend. Homemade popcorn balls, anything grilled, anything carb-related. Nom noms. What started the eating frenzy? Homemade zucchini bread. I had about five medium zucchini from my CSA program and figured turning them into two spicy cinnamon loaves of awesome was my best bet. I ate both loaves within four days. Oops. No joke - I froze a loaf only to thaw it within 36 hours.  Make your own binge worthy bread by following the recipe below.

Katy's Spicy Zucchini Bread

5 medium zucchini - grate or shred in a food processor.  Roll up in baking towers and squeeze out as much water as you can.  Set aside

1.5 AP flour

1.5 wheat flour

1 tsp salt

1 tsp baking soda

1.5 tsp baking powder

3 tsp Saigon cinnamon

Whisk above ingredients together and set aside.

3 large eggs

.75 cup white sugar

.75 cup brown sugar

3 tsp vanilla extract

Whisk together fervently (or put in a mixer with whisk attachment) and beat until pale yellow and fluffy.

1 c. whole milk – whisk into egg mixture.

Gradually stir in dry ingredients into wet until just combined.  Don’t over mix! 

Stir in zucchini and divide between two buttered and floured loaf pans.  Bake at 350 for about 45-50 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.

My only other recommendation? Plan to give one away!

Oh Hey, Best Month Ever!

Full time siblings... part time models

It's my birthday month.  I was never one of those girls that decided, at a random age past 21, to suddenly hate her birthday.  I'm going to like my birthday when I turn 30, 50, 70 and 99.  I will still blast the Captain Zoom birthday song and everyone will still be required to dote upon me.  I am finally starting to get back to my happy-go-lucky self.  My brother's wedding was last month and, with it, came a much anticipated and much needed vacation to Northern California.  It was beautiful, magical and all around perfect. The best part of all?  Toresil is now officially my Toresil.  However, with extremely happy events comes the extremely blue and sad let down.  Now what am I supposed to look forward to, get ready for, buy pretty dresses for and plan ridiculous dance moves for?  Sigh, being so drunk on happy sure can bring on a hangover of melancholy.

What has gotten me through the past couple weeks of meh is continuing my hunt of "non-dirty" beauty and skin products.  I already have some favorites.  I also have some on a "Come to Katy" list that I plan to treat myself to once I pay off my rockin' rehearsal dinner dress I bought for last month from Nordies.  For the next few posts, I will share one thing I love and one thing on my wish list.

Can I just say I am a sucker for good packaging?

Thing I Love

May Lindstrom The Clean Dirt cleansing clay & The Problem Solver mask - Can I just say that May Lindstrom is fantastic?  You know that type of person that makes you feel like the only and most important person in the room when they are talking to you?  May accomplishes this via her online presence with her customers.  Her Youth Dew serum, while amazing, seems to just not agree with my skin.  I have read countless reviews from people that dub it a miracle product, but for some reason my weird post Accutane skin doesn't like it.  I e-mailed May my problem and some questions and she responded to me within 24 hours with suggestions on how to better introduce her line to my skin.  I absolutely love her cleanser, which I use about three times a week, and her mask, which I use weekly.  There is something so comforting in her concoctions of basic, pure, and effective ingredients that are made by hand.  Each time I use them, I feel like I have been invited into May's very special circle of friends with whom she chose to share her talent.

Come to Katy

Jiva-Apoha Body Oil - I read about these body oils on Seed to Serum, a clean skincare blog that is a new obsession of mine.  I have been looking for a clean alternative to the various dirty body lotions I have been trying to use up.  After reading the various descriptions of the oils, scents, and the feelings they intend to accentuate, it is readily apparent that most seem to be right in my wheelhouse.  Not only do the Jiva-Apoha oils moisturize with high quality oils from the best ingredients, but the creator is trained in Ayurveda and holistic healing methods. Therefore, each oil has different therapeutic benefits it can bring to its user.  The most exciting option?  Getting a personalized oil speciality made based upon how one responds to a questionnaire.

If summer were a weekend, we are now well into Saturday afternoon... what are you doing to make the most of it?  My to-do list consists of going to a Lake Erie beach, catching a show at Playhouse Square (Book of Mormon, here I come), going to a weekend Tribe game and getting Stoddard's custard.

More Glow, Please!

Cleveland E. 9th Pier @ Sunrise

I think I'm scaring my Mom. I am a self-proclaimed make-up aficionado who, yesterday, declared that "I think I am going to start trying to be more cognizant of the ingredients in my cosmetics and what I put on my skin..."

Oh boy.

I have always been aware that there is scary stuff in cosmetics. I even read somewhere once that mascara is one of the worst things on the planet you can put near your peepers. However, you are reading the thoughts of a girl who suffered through debilitating acne in high school (from which, I'm pretty sure, my self confidence has never fully recovered). I use products to exude different moods and perceptions, much like I do with clothing. Am I really going to ditch my favorites because they contain scary stuff I can't pronounce? Well, maybe.

Lorain-Carnegie Bridge Guardian
a.k.a. My Boyfriend

I used to fall back on the idea that our skin is a canvas... A barrier between our insides and the outside world. This theory crumbles when one considers medicinal patches such as birth control and nicotine... Obviously something passes through this barrier and is effectively absorbed into the bloodstream. Oh, crap.

There is more science there and probably some arguments for the barrier theory; however, it was enough to get me to start researching kinder skincare and cosmetics. I'll save you all the trouble and just tell you: it is flipping overwhelming. I can't suggest any products yet, because I haven't tried anything. That will be for later posts. What I will say is that a girl who knows nothing about natural beauty products found a diamond in the rough at The Spirit Beauty Lounge website (please Google, some people are weird about linking to their website).

Nothing is better than Ohio grass on
barefeeties.

Spirit's website lets you request nine samples of almost any of her products for $25, which includes a coupon off your next purchase (an assumption that you will buy one of the items). All the products I had read reviews on went on my list. I'm super pumped. Most of these products are only sold in specialty brick and mortar locations, so this practically eliminates the risk of the product collecting dust in my make up drawer. Natural cosmetics are a tad more expensive, which makes sense, so this would give me much heartburn than normal.

Have any of you thought about this? Apparently there are documentaries that scare people silly about it. I haven't drummed up the nerve to watch them yet.

PS- Since I haven't bought anything yet, I had no pictures to go with this post. Therefore, these are random pictures from my life the past couple weeks. You're welcome.

Who needs junk food when you have this?  West Side Market
organic heaven.  Swoon.

Brink of Summer

Reassessment, realignment and reinvention is easy
during a gorgeous Sunday sunset over Lake Erie.

At the change of each season, I crave reassessment, realignment and reinvention. I feel the craving approaching as summer gets closer. I am seeking outdoor workouts, organization, light eating, Ayurveda approaches, and kindness. I am drawn to silk fabrics, dusk, my friends, and 1990's music. I would gladly spend my days walking anywhere.

While I can't hone in on and take advantage of all of these feelings (work tends to get in the way), I plan to allow myself to gravitate naturally towards what I appear to be asking for instead of what I think I need to be doing (realignment!). I've been trying to take time out of each day for quiet instead of automatically turning on the television the minute I get home (reassessment!). Lastly, I am trying to embrace some new eating habits and workout schedules (reinvention!).

I, of course, failed to realize my hat made me stick
out like a sore thumb!

I just returned from Toresil's bachelorette party. Fun was had by all. Now I have exactly one month to get myself in order for the big nuptials. Things that help? Bachelorette parties that involve 10k hikes through shin deep mud pits and climbing of retired ski hills.  We dressed up in outlandish outfits and all crossed the finish line together.  Toresil's cheeks must hurt today from smiling for 36 hours straight.

Some things at the forefront of my mind:

- The future Rose's baby gift. Working on it makes me smile as I think about her. She is going to be so rockin', I can't even fathom it.

Kerry - this is the only hint you get.  Stella tried to eat
the yarn tag from the gift supplies.  Shocker. 

- Dry skin brushing. It is changing the look of my legs, I swear. Google it.

- Sleepytime Vanilla Tea by Celestial Seasonings. All these pre-summer cravings make my mind race. This makes my brain shush.

- Kristen Wiig's SNL 1-800-FLOWERS commercial. My brother turned me onto this. If you want a glimpse into the relationship of Sharon and I, please view this clip online. You're welcome.

A classy Toresil party means no yucky appendage-shaped
decorations.  Just purple.  So much purple.

Does anyone else get season changing cravings?