Adventures in Cooking

My Dad is an excellent cook. Before reality set in and we had to start eating healthy (big fat "Boo" to that crap), my Dad would cook the most amazing New Orleans-inspired dishes that could rival the best restaurants in NOLA. From mussels with white wine sauce to shrimp etouffee to cheese soup, those wonderful years solidified my love for all things culinary. And butter. Mostly, all things butter. Sorry, I think I hallucinated. Where was I?

Ah yes, butter. Well, his Thanksgiving feast is legendary (remember the time he and my Uncle Tom dangled a frozen butterball from a basketball hoop to deep-fat fry it and in the process almost burnt said uncle's garage down? Anyone?). He's made 3 turduckens, complete with three different types of dressings. My favorite is still the oyster. Who would have thought? He's spent the last 20 or so years refining his Thanksgiving meal down to an art. He starts cooking at least a week before hand. Yep, that's right-- a week.

Well, this Thanksgiving will be slightly different. I am having my first holiday celebration with Gene's family and I'm pretty excited about it. I'm always looking for new holiday traditions and I'm gearing myself up for some new treats. One tradition that I MUST bring with me is the twice-baked potato. My affinity for this particular spud was started when my grandma prepared them every Thanksgiving and Christmas. In spite of all the magical food listed above that my Dad works his butt off to prepare, the crowning glory for me was always the potatoes. My grandma would make extra because she knew I'd eat at least 4 and wanted another plate to take home with me.

So, because I'm not with my family this Thanksgiving I am making my own twice-baked potatoes. I got the recipe from my mom a few days ago and had a small panic attack when I noticed bacon wasn't one of the listed ingredients. After a quick IM to my mom, she reassured me that she always adds bacon from the recipe following the basic one she sent me. Phew. I almost overreacted. Almost.

Tonight I will attempt to make enough twice-baked potatoes for 20 people. But there's only 10 coming to Thanksgiving. That's right. I want to maintain my own separate stash at home. They're that good. If anyone wants the recipe, here it is. Since my grandma passed away a few years ago we had to taste test quite a few different recipes and here is the best one we've found. Enjoy. Happy Eating!

Let the Torture Begin!

I'm not an athletic person. My finest moment of athleticism occurred when I was 13 years old and I set a new record for the backstroke at the pool where I swam. I received a paper plate award for this monumental achievement that still hangs in my room at home. I have avoided exercising at all costs for my last 25 years. I have ignored the snarky comments from doctors, friends, and family who told me that there will come a time when I need to start working out. Well, my friends that time has come. GROAN.

After definitively ruling out the dryer as the reason that none of my pants fit any more, I realized that my expanding waistline must be the culprit. Finally, last week, after having to lay on the floor to zip up my reluctant jeans and seeing Gene's snarky face I realized that something must be done. Note: Gene wasn't really snarky but when you're upside down fighting with pants that are probably 2 sizes too small, the whole world seems snarky. I made a pact with myself, the puppy as my witness, that I would start exercising TOMORROW.

Well, after a few days of making lame excuses, "Oh, I lost 1/2 a pound today. Guess I can start tomorrow" and "I feel a cold coming on, better not push it," I finally started a week late. Yesterday, I actually was sick but after spending a weekend laying on the couch I felt gross enough to get up and head to our apartment's clubhouse. I did a solid 20 minutes on the elliptical machine (shut up, I don't exercise, remember?) and thought I was going to pass out when it ended. Probably not the smartest decision but I did it. I finally broke my boycott on all things health/health related and got my ass to the gym.

I was pretty sure I would be paralyzed from my over-exertion yesterday but to my pleasant surprise I feel no pain. This means, all excuses are null and void and I will be heading to the gym after work. Yay?!

Note: In addition to being exercise-adverse, I'm also incredibly clumsy. Therefore, I'm sure my new adventures in exercising will at some point land me in the Emergency Room. Stay tuned.

Night on the Town and Reflections the Morning After

After re-reading the title for today's blog it sounds much more scandalous than it actually was. Sorry, folks. Last night, P, K and I met up for drinks at the Samba Room before heading over to a friend's party celebrating her recent passing of the CO bar. The Samba Room was fantastic, cheap mojitos, good mini-cuban sandwiches, all around deliciousness. I walked out of there (maybe stumbled a little) after 2 mojitos, yes, I'm still a light-weight, and one and a half mini-Cuban sandwiches for right around $20 including tip. Not bad at all. It was great to see P and A, law school friends who had the wedding of a lifetime back in September. Seriously, guys. Why can't you have one every year? And Miss K looked FABULOUS with her new short do and fantastic black dress. I wish I had taken pictures. Next time. Dammit.

Confession: I'm always a little (ok, very) hesitant to attend law school functions or events with a high ratio of law schoolers to non-law folks. It's always a strange and somewhat uncomfortable situation. Ever since I quit CU law after my first year of law school, still the best decision I've probably ever made, it's awkward to be around large amounts of my former classmates. It is, however, entertaining. Inevitably I will be introduced to a significant other, or a CU law student from more recent years, and I'm always amused at how people choose to define me. "Oh, uninterested person, this is Katie. She and I went to law school together until we didn't." Think that's my favorite so far. Most of the time it's not nearly that awkward, and I have gotten better at handling the situation.

Right after I dropped out, quit, moved along, made an alternate life choice, fled, whatever.. I felt it was really important people didn't assume I couldn't hack it at law school. For some reason or another the idea that people would assume I left because I failed out or was forced to move along really bothered me. I'm sure it is the over-achiever in me rearing its ugly head. Truth is I just HATED law school. But I didn't hate law school like one hates going to the doctor. Uncomfortable, but necessary to achieve future health and happiness. Okay, that metaphor was horrendous. The point being I realized that while I could survive law school, doing so would not get me any closer to doing something I actually enjoyed. A lot, if not most, people hate law school. And those who don't, I seriously debate your sanity. That's right, I'm looking at you Hersh. But they do it because they know that it will be worth it in the end. People really do love being lawyers, my mom is a prime example. However, I knew that once I got through the shitastic experience that is law school, that would mean I'd be a ....lawyer. Shit.

So, I bucked the system and quit. I had no idea what I wanted to do in my life but I sure as hell knew it wouldn't be law related. While this caused a lot of angst and hardship, thank goodness I bailed. I wouldn't be nearly as happy right now if I had stuck with it. I feel like a completely different person than the 1L I was, and I have no desire to change that.

Anyways, the point of this long tangent is that I've become more comfortable with my choices. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I've been accepted to my new graduate school program and I no longer answer the question, "So, what are you doing now?" With a bunch of awkward sighs and stammers. But, I think most of it has to do with age. I'm come to appreciate that hardships and veering off path is a natural part of life. And the people who have everything in their life planned down to the age at which they will marry, have kids, etc. are bound to be disappointed. There's a really funny magnet at the Tattered Cover that says, "Have you noticed 'What the Hell?!' is always the right decision?" Makes me laugh every time.

Blogger Nation

I've become quite addicted to a few blogs, not so much the political or opinion ones but the blogs that are about real people struggling with a variety of issues. I've always been fascinated with people's successes and struggles (guess that's why I'm going into social work, huh?) and I find it inspiring when people can articulately express what they're feeling. A couple of really great ones are redneck mommy, dooce, and from this point forward. All these women struggle with complicated issues, from depression to the loss of a child. I especially admire these bloggers for being so open and honest about all they are experiencing. I'm especially addicted to dooce.com right now because it chronicles, among other things, a woman's struggle with depression. She's very honest and open about her struggles which is refreshing due to the stigma attached with any sort of mental illness. Depression is a very misunderstood disease due to a variety of factors, like over-diagnosis, over simplification of the symptoms (why can't you just feel better?), and the general feeling by those afflicted with it and those not that if you have never experienced depression you cannot ever really understand. All in all she does a great job talking about her struggles with a healthy dose of humor. If you're looking for something fun and meaningful to read I highly recommend it.

Because it's Friday..

And I've always wanted to dye the puppy's hair. Here's a good reminder that I should let some ideas go..

Smurf Costume FAIL

more Fail Dogs

Dear, Car

You are making it very difficult for me to pay off my credit cards when you keep getting sick. First the tires, now the brakes. I understand that I need to take better care of you and I will do better in the future but your ability to drain my bank account with one clanky noise at a time is not inspiring me to do so. It makes me want to drive you straight into a lake.. Just FYI.

One year..

I'm sitting here trying to figure out exactly what I want to say to commemorate this monumental occasion. It's been one year since President Obama was elected as the first African American president. One year since all of the chaos, crazy shenanigans, and not being able to sleep from all the excitement of election day. I know there will always be questions such as, "Is this really the change we hoped for? Is he doing enough?" But I don't care about any of that right now.

A year ago was much more than the story of one extraordinary man who defied all the odds to become the leader of the United States; it was the story of hundreds of thousands of people who came together to demand change and devoted their lives to fulfilling that goal. I met more wonderful people on the campaign trail than in any other point in my life. I will be forever grateful to President Obama for introducing me to such wonderful people. As our state director often said, there are few times in life when you find yourself surrounded with people who share the same ideals, goals, and hopes that you do. From the outside, people (eh-hem, Republicans) might view it as a cult mentality or simply a bunch of kids doing the "hip" thing and working for then-Senator Obama. I guarantee you there is nothing "hip" about working 14+ hour days, 7 days a week. Regardless of your politics, you can't deny the dedication and sacrifice shown by the thousands of staffers and volunteers who worked tirelessly for change.


There are so many memories, important life lessons, and just overall crazy times I will forever hold in my heart. The campaign was a time of immense personal growth for me, it showed me what I could do and what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. The campaign forced me out of my comfort zone and I will be forever grateful. Because of the extreme working conditions, my fellow staffers instantly became family and although I don't speak to most of them as often as I should, I would drop anything in a heartbeat if they needed it.

I will always be proud to carry the title, Obama Field Organizer/Volunteer Coordinator, and I am blessed that I met so many people who share the same badge. Congratulations to you all. Team Granola forever!
Pictures (from top): Senator Obama and me after the debate in Austin; County Convention in Austin; View from our office in Clarksburg, WV; Taking down the West Virginia Headquarters sign after our loss; Team Granola at the Democratic National Convention.

Halloween and such..

This weekend turned out to be very fun and eventful. We spent most of Saturday with Gene's family celebrating the baptism of one of his little nieces. All of the family was there, including Gene's 3 sisters, their 7 kids, and a bunch of cousins with their kiddos. It was a good time hanging out with his family and seeing his cousins who I don't see that often aside from when we run in to each other at comedy shows (his cousin E is a HILARIOUS comic who performs at comedy shows all across Denver). Any-who, my favorite was hanging out with his little niece, Cindy Lou Hoo who only ever wants to eat (we have this in common). I looked over from the living room and saw the little two-year old on her tippy toes trying to get a handful of chips off the counter. I made it there before she dumped the whole bowl on her head.

After hanging out with Gene's family we went over to P and A's house for some Halloween cocktails. Ever the perfect hostess, P had created some awesome cocktails complete with dry ice and orange food coloring. She even dressed up her incredibly pissed off cats, one was tigger, the other was a devil. Tigger was pretty hilarious to watch because whenever the hood with tigger's head on it was placed over his head he freaked out and starting running backwards to escape. He also sat in the corner for some time peering out of the corner of his eye at the tigger head that had fallen across his shoulder. Poor thing, he was convinced he had somehow grown a head over night. The devil kitty just sat completely still and refused to move, until of course Lola (their golden retriever) would walk by and then she'd swat the crap out of her. She seemed to like me which Gene thought was hysterical because I am not a fan of cats (they scare the poo out of me, you never know what they're going to do and all of sudden they attack your face--true story, and no, I don't want to talk about it). I think she liked me because I had a really sweet cat costume on. Pictures to come.

After P and A's we headed off to our Devotchka concert at the Boulder Theater. It was a lot of fun and a great show. My favorite costume was the guy dressed up as lego man. Gene half-assed the costume portion of the evening, all I could convince him to wear was a pair of mouse ears to go with my much more elaborate cat costume. Oh, well.

Sunday we spent most of the day watching football (Boo Broncos, Yay Vikings) and just relaxing. Hope you had a Happy Halloween!