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.

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.

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.

Allerjeez!

The holidays are the hardest time of the year to have food allergies. Everywhere I look, there are food traps.

I'm technically allergic to about 12 foods. The biggies are wheat, corn, soy and dairy. When I eat these foods, my body basically says, "screw you" and gives me two days of severe swelling (second trimester-style), fatigue and moodiness.

Does that mean I don't cheat? Honestly, no. After two years of this, I've learned what my body can't and really can't do.

Enter the holidays though, and miraculously, my threshold for pain increases. My mother-in-law makes sugar cookies that I affectionately call "crack cocaine." They make my gut so darn miserable but does that stop me from eating five? Nope.

It's pathetic. I know. But to quote John (Cougar) Mellencamp, it hurts so good! I dream all year of these processed-sugar monsters. But after five minutes of yum, it's always two days of Tums.

Does anyone have a Christmas cookie recipe -- that tastes good -- sans the wheat, corn, soy or dairy? If so, please send it to me. Today. In fact, why don't you overnight it.

adDress

I've never been a dress girl. Ever since Leslie O. announced in my 7th grade English class that I looked terrible in dresses, I've been hesitant to wear em'. As a tall chick who could never find pants, you'd think dresses would be a staple. But, in the back of my mind, there was always Leslie's voice.

Recently, though, my eyes were opened to the wonderful world that is dresses. This was in part to finally finding a pair of boots that would zip over my monster calves. (Thanks, Dad. I wanted your legs. Really.) And, a self-talk of, "Self, Leslie's probably in prison, a guest on 'Jerry Springer Live' or lives in a trailer down by the river. It's time to move on!"

Now, I can't wait to wear dresses. I'm obsessed with finding the perfect pair of tights to wear with my wide-calf boots. There's a lot of treadmill miles logged on those wide-calves so I refuse to feel bad about them. And, I'm enjoying it when people say, "I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress."

It feels good to move on ... 20 years later.

Greatest Hits, Volume 1

I'm often asked by the two people who read this blog (thanks mom and dad), which are the most popular entries.

That got me thinking: I need a greatest hits list. I know, don't you have to have a hit to have a greatest hit? But, as calculated by me, these entries have generated the greatest response.

1. For the love of Geese. Hands down, the blog I get the most feedback on. If you're a stay-at-home or working mom, you can probably relate.

2. Super! Perfect for after Thanksgiving, this entry details my thought process after learning my hubby weighs less than me.

3. When Glam Girls Camp. If you're a girly-girl, you'll cringe. This blog recaps our family hiking trip to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and back.

4. Bravo, Tim Gunn. You might think I'm a stalker after reading this letter to Tim Gunn where I ask, okay, beg him to be my friend.

5. Financial Summit. I wrote this last entry to vent but I've been surprised to see it's actually helped some.

Enjoy these entries recapping the last two years. And, thanks for letting me share my take.

From the mind of a small biz owner

As the leaders of the big three automakers descended on Washington last week to beg for government -- rather, taxpayer -- funds, one thought kept surfacing: What about me?

It's selfish. I know. But, what about me? The small business owner who doesn't have an executive dining room but reinvests nearly every dime she makes back into her business.

The auto execs flew to Washington on private jets. Is this the part where I'm supposed to feel sorry for them? Where I'm supposed to dig deep in my pockets so they don't have to fly home coach?

This is not easy stuff. I know that. Thousands of retired autoworkers who gave their lives to these companies now rely on them for pensions and health insurance. And, all of sudden, they're at-risk.

But, when does it stop? First, it was Fannie and Freddie. Now, it's cars. If I, or any other US small business goes out, will the government bust out its white cape and save us? Or, will it be up to us to navigate the downside of capitalism and entrepreneurship?

I think I know the answer. And, the auto companies should be held to the same standard.