I have three best friends. Two of them, I've known since I was 13. My other best friend is my sister.
I absolutely treasure the history I share with these three women.
Though they all live in different cities, in the last month, I've been able to spend time with each of them. And, it has brought me tremendous joy.
When I sit down with them, it all makes sense. Things I couldn't articulate suddenly become clear. Doubts erase. Memories come flooding back. And, the hours fly by like minutes.
When we leave, there are always tears in my eyes. The kind of tears you get when you care for someone so much and you have so much history that your heart kinda hurts and words can't explain it.
Man, I love my girls.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
My dad
I have an awesome dad. Sure, he always has the TV on too loud, tells really bad jokes (something about watermelons going to John Cougar MELLENcamp's for the summer) and most of the time, I look at his outfits with a furrowed brow, but the man really does rock.
As an adult, you think you know everything about your parents. Because, after 30+ years, how could there be any more secrets, right? But, my dad continues to surprise me.
Last week he told a story about the Chicago race riots in the late '60s. The city was a hotbed of racial tension. He saw a black man leaving a building and realized this guy would have to walk through a mob of white men – who’d been drinking -- to leave. Seeing where this was going, my dad stood next to the black man, walked out of the building with him and there was no incident.
His commitment to doing the right thing has always been a powerful example to me.
Every parent knows that sacrificing time, money and opportunities comes with having kids. And, my parents certainly sacrificed for my brother, sister and me.
But, my dad started supporting his family in high school. There were often strikes at the phone company where my grandfather worked. But, a labor dispute doesn't stop rent from being due or the electricity bill from arriving. My dad worked thru high school to support his three sisters and parents.
I wonder what it would have been like to go to work for my family after school instead of basketball or volleyball practice. Because of my dad and his hard work, I never had to know.
I don't want this post to sound too Hallmark or mushy but I have a really great dad. He's wise, generous, funny (sans the watermelon joke), loving and most importantly, always makes time for me and my siblings.
I hope your dad is like my dad.
As an adult, you think you know everything about your parents. Because, after 30+ years, how could there be any more secrets, right? But, my dad continues to surprise me.
Last week he told a story about the Chicago race riots in the late '60s. The city was a hotbed of racial tension. He saw a black man leaving a building and realized this guy would have to walk through a mob of white men – who’d been drinking -- to leave. Seeing where this was going, my dad stood next to the black man, walked out of the building with him and there was no incident.
His commitment to doing the right thing has always been a powerful example to me.
Every parent knows that sacrificing time, money and opportunities comes with having kids. And, my parents certainly sacrificed for my brother, sister and me.
But, my dad started supporting his family in high school. There were often strikes at the phone company where my grandfather worked. But, a labor dispute doesn't stop rent from being due or the electricity bill from arriving. My dad worked thru high school to support his three sisters and parents.
I wonder what it would have been like to go to work for my family after school instead of basketball or volleyball practice. Because of my dad and his hard work, I never had to know.
I don't want this post to sound too Hallmark or mushy but I have a really great dad. He's wise, generous, funny (sans the watermelon joke), loving and most importantly, always makes time for me and my siblings.
I hope your dad is like my dad.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Eww de Parfum
People, I can't make this stuff up.
Riding in the car last week, a girlfriend of mine started fishing through her handbag for a little jar of Vicks VapoRub. She put some on her lips and under her nose. Honestly, I was so busy putting on my own lipstick that I barely noticed.
When we arrived at the destination, she asked if there were any white traces on her face from the Vicks. I told her no. To which she responded, "I'm sorry, your perfume is just too strong for me."
(Insert sound of screeching noise.) Wait a minute -- what? My perfume is so strong that the best alternative is to slather Vick's on your face? Seriously?
Now, I'll be the first to admit, I over water my plants and I tend to over spray on perfume. But so much so that my friend would rather inhale menthol?
LOL. I don't even know what to do with that.
Riding in the car last week, a girlfriend of mine started fishing through her handbag for a little jar of Vicks VapoRub. She put some on her lips and under her nose. Honestly, I was so busy putting on my own lipstick that I barely noticed.
When we arrived at the destination, she asked if there were any white traces on her face from the Vicks. I told her no. To which she responded, "I'm sorry, your perfume is just too strong for me."
(Insert sound of screeching noise.) Wait a minute -- what? My perfume is so strong that the best alternative is to slather Vick's on your face? Seriously?
Now, I'll be the first to admit, I over water my plants and I tend to over spray on perfume. But so much so that my friend would rather inhale menthol?
LOL. I don't even know what to do with that.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Overexposed
This week, I put on a show for all the ladies at the local TJ Maxx. I was shopping for spring shirts when I was confronted with the terrible truth: The dressing room doors literally hit me at the bust. And, I was wearing flip-flops.
Sigh.
First thought: “I guess we’ll find out who brought their dollar bills.”
Second thought: “I’m hungry. Did I bring a snack?”
Third thought: “I hope no one puts this on the Internet.”
Then, I went to work. I strategically selected my dressing room away from the entrance. (We wouldn’t want a mob scene, right?) Made sure there were no cameras to entertain the elite TJ Maxx security team. Practiced my best bob-and-weave every time someone walked by. And, 20 shirts later, made a mental note that the TJ Maxx dressing room design team had to consist of the shortest people in the world.
Sigh. It’s going to take some time to recover from this traumatic experience.
Sigh.
First thought: “I guess we’ll find out who brought their dollar bills.”
Second thought: “I’m hungry. Did I bring a snack?”
Third thought: “I hope no one puts this on the Internet.”
Then, I went to work. I strategically selected my dressing room away from the entrance. (We wouldn’t want a mob scene, right?) Made sure there were no cameras to entertain the elite TJ Maxx security team. Practiced my best bob-and-weave every time someone walked by. And, 20 shirts later, made a mental note that the TJ Maxx dressing room design team had to consist of the shortest people in the world.
Sigh. It’s going to take some time to recover from this traumatic experience.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Don't move my cheese
I love cheese. I mean, I really love cheese. Technically, I'm allergic to it and not supposed to eat it. But, this week I've been re-introducing it to my diet to see if the ol' stummy can handle. And, may I just say, it's been a good week.
Cheese. Sigh.
Cheese. Sigh.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Super Fan
It's opening day in Kansas City. And, throughout the city, there's excitement around the Royals and the team's newly renovated stadium.
I am married to a Royals super fan. And, I mean super fan. Ya know those Star Trek conventions? He's the Royals' equivalent.
Much to his dismay, I am not a super fan. And, really, just barely, even a fan.
Before we married, I thought going to Royals games was about looking for cute boys and eating jumbo pretzels. I was shocked to learn people actually watched the games.
Before we started dating, my husband had never left a Royals game early. Whereas, I would start schlepping to the car about the sixth inning. I had to. I couldn't walk that fast in my heels.
I'll never forget one of the first Royals games we attended together. A foul ball was hit right next to me. It bounced. I looked at it. It kept rolling. Seeing the disbelief in my super fan's face still makes me laugh.
For the record, I am athletic. I love sports and I love to compete. But, baseball just doesn't do it for me. You can go the entire game with only the pitcher and catcher touching the ball. Bor-ing.
And, have you ever noticed how many overweight pitchers there are in baseball? You mean to tell me they're getting paid millions of bucks and they can't bust out a few sit-ups? I cry foul.
I will end with one truly endearing thought about my hubby's un-natural man love for the Royals: He sticks by them through thick and thin. He loved em' when they rocked in the '80s and he still loves em' now ... when they're not so rockin'. And, I love him for that. It makes all the jerseys hogging our closet, the signed baseballs cluttering our furniture and those creepy bobbleheads, palatable.
I am married to a Royals super fan. And, I mean super fan. Ya know those Star Trek conventions? He's the Royals' equivalent.
Much to his dismay, I am not a super fan. And, really, just barely, even a fan.
Before we married, I thought going to Royals games was about looking for cute boys and eating jumbo pretzels. I was shocked to learn people actually watched the games.
Before we started dating, my husband had never left a Royals game early. Whereas, I would start schlepping to the car about the sixth inning. I had to. I couldn't walk that fast in my heels.
I'll never forget one of the first Royals games we attended together. A foul ball was hit right next to me. It bounced. I looked at it. It kept rolling. Seeing the disbelief in my super fan's face still makes me laugh.
For the record, I am athletic. I love sports and I love to compete. But, baseball just doesn't do it for me. You can go the entire game with only the pitcher and catcher touching the ball. Bor-ing.
And, have you ever noticed how many overweight pitchers there are in baseball? You mean to tell me they're getting paid millions of bucks and they can't bust out a few sit-ups? I cry foul.
I will end with one truly endearing thought about my hubby's un-natural man love for the Royals: He sticks by them through thick and thin. He loved em' when they rocked in the '80s and he still loves em' now ... when they're not so rockin'. And, I love him for that. It makes all the jerseys hogging our closet, the signed baseballs cluttering our furniture and those creepy bobbleheads, palatable.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Let me tell you why
This week, we closed the KAT Clothing retail store. The retail store only. The Web site is alive and kickin'.
As I've been telling people, I'm continually met with that face that seems to say, "Oh crap, the economy is eating you alive, too?"
Honestly, though, it's more of a strategic decision than an economic one. Would we have closed the retail store if we were bringing in $50K a month? Well, no. But, when I started this little venture that seems to be part vacation, part hell, my goal was specific: To have a successful online store that met the underserved clothing needs of tall chicks.
While the retail store was great for raising awareness and learning, it became clear that it wasn't advancing our primary goal. And, since we're funded by the Bank of Me and it didn't appear I'd be receiving a bail-out any time soon, we made the business decision to direct our resources to the Web site.
So, if you're in the Kansas City area and didn't get to come by the store, I hope you'll visit us online. Also, we're having trunk shows throughout the year across the Midwest. Stay tuned for more information about our first one on May 2. I look forward to huggin' it out with you then.
As I've been telling people, I'm continually met with that face that seems to say, "Oh crap, the economy is eating you alive, too?"
Honestly, though, it's more of a strategic decision than an economic one. Would we have closed the retail store if we were bringing in $50K a month? Well, no. But, when I started this little venture that seems to be part vacation, part hell, my goal was specific: To have a successful online store that met the underserved clothing needs of tall chicks.
While the retail store was great for raising awareness and learning, it became clear that it wasn't advancing our primary goal. And, since we're funded by the Bank of Me and it didn't appear I'd be receiving a bail-out any time soon, we made the business decision to direct our resources to the Web site.
So, if you're in the Kansas City area and didn't get to come by the store, I hope you'll visit us online. Also, we're having trunk shows throughout the year across the Midwest. Stay tuned for more information about our first one on May 2. I look forward to huggin' it out with you then.
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