This is the dictionary to my blogs. You may find terms, people, places, things you just aren't used to. And that's fine...it's why this blog is here...to fill in those blanks for you.
When I was little (actually it was only about 5 years ago), I actually asked for Roget's Thesaurus for my birthday (and got it--jackpot!). I just LOVE words. I love crosswords, I love scrabble, I love thesauruses, I love making up words, I love putting words together and the Wheel. And you get the point. So here's your guide to things I say and people I talk about. I will add to it along the road as necessary. Do not worry.
People:
1. Casey- my adoring, loving, faithful, amazing, strong, handsome, hunk-of-a-husband (brownie points? jk. it's all true.)
2. Katie- (a.k.a. Fancypants Jr.) my hilarious, precious, beautiful, rapunzel-like, supportive sister
3. Dawn et al.- my supermom, smart, witty, adorable sister (in tow with a husband Mike and 15 kids...okay okay, 5 kids with one on the way)
4. Momma- (a.k.a. Red) MY supermom, beautiful, put-her-in-you-pocket kinda cute, smart, savvy, fashionista, gentle, giving, loving mom
5. Daddy- superdad, generous, sweet, huggable, willing, knowledgeable (streets AND book! rare) dad and workout partner
6. Patch- most presh pup in the whole wide world (determined yet stubborn yet sweet and gentle and loyal and so so so cute...the make-your-heart-melt kind)
7. Other- Stacie (and Dave), Ashley, Cristina (and Silas), Carina, Maria, Dr. Nieman, Dustin, Salvatore (Sal), Colin, Sandra, Jerry, Missy (and Garrett)
8. Bethenny Frankel- my future boss and would-be BFF
Terms:
1. Presh- precious
2. Jelly- jealous
3. Coolio- cool
4. JIC- just in case
5. GP- good point
6. Whatev- whatever
7. Uje (usage: the Uje)- the usual
8. Any word that is preceded by "el" and ends in "-o" is how Kate and I have decided to make normal words spanish...cause we don't know spanish
9. Delish- delicious
10. Deets- details
11. Fro yo- frozen yogurt (not sure how often it will come up, but we want to avoid any confusion)
12. Gross out- gross
13. Noodle- to think about something (ex. let's noodle on that for a few minutes)
14. Margi- margarita
15. Disgusto- disgusting
16. Amaze- amazing
Miscellaneous:
1. the Wheel- Wheel of Fortune
About Me
- Pamela K
- The youngest of three girls, I used to be the littlest lamb. Then I met a boy, fell deep in love, and now I'm a Krasen! But in my heart, I'll forever be my parents' Littlest Lamb too. I'm told I'm over-dramatic, and I prefer to think of it passionate about my feelings, but you know, whichever...I tell myself I love spontaneity, but let's be honest, if I didn't have organization, I would lose it. So I love planned spontaneity (totally not an oxymoron). I love loving. And I love to write. Enjoy the drama (passion), organization, and love as it unfolds in my life...a life that is not my own, but is dedicated to serving my God and my husband. And a life in which I am clothed in grace.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Through Rose Colored Glasses
No, I am not naive to what's going on in the world...I'm completely and utterly aware that the US is going down the tubes in 2 days or whatever the count is now because of our national debt. And I do not actually have rose-colored glasses (I don't want to look 80 years old), I actually have these super hip black rimmed glasses with a light teal/blue stripe in the black. Okay, so I totally did not do justice to them with that terrible description, but still.
The only problem with them is when I have to actually wear them. They're pretty to look at, but when I have to wear them, I have to resist from looking up, down, and using any peripheral vision, or I absolutely CANNOT see a thing. The world is one big blur. I mean mass murder could be going on beside me or above me and I'd have no idea (assuming all was silent and I couldn't turn my head either). This is a very dangerous situation.
And I don't even want to get into running. But I will. I mean, you run with glasses, and it's just a disaster cause you start to sweat, and they slide right down. And if you don't wear them, then how do you know where you're going? I mean are you even running on the sidewalk or are you headed for a line full or cars going 55 and about to pancake you? Are you still on the treadmill belt? Or getting dangerously close to the side edge where if you even touch a piece of the stationary part of the treadmill, you'll fly off or lose your footing or make a fool of yourself somehow (if I need to state the obvious, you must stay ON the treadmill belt if you want things to end well). True story--it's happened to all of us. Katie witnessed this very thing in the gym, some Rico Suave who literally flew off the back. Awkward. Not only did he get back on, but he had to prove himself. He got back on and ramped up that speed. Joe cool over here. If you're lucky, you'll have the gym all to yourself if this ever happens.
And for someone who isn't good with directions in the first place (and by "not good", I mean Casey registered us for a GPS for the wedding because of me...and I get lost in a city I've lived in for 28 years but whatev, I pay attention to the important things and driving is not one of them), not being able to see is a huge problemo.
So this is my current woe: I CAN'T SEE. The only reason I know what I'm typing is because I took keyboarding all through middle school, and I don't have to look at the letters when I type. Sometimes, I close my eyes when I type to make work more exciting. Well, the reason I can't see is because, I actually don't know why I can't see. I just woke up one day this week and my right eye is bright blood-red. Gross out, huh? Well it's true. It doesn't itch or hurt, it's just bright red. And then the other night it felt like someone was throwing darts at my eye. Or that a window broke and all the pieces fell into my eye (cause I'm sure both of those things happen to alot of people). That felt good. It doesn't hurt now, but when I try to put my contacts in, it burns. I have an unhealthy love for my contacts so this is unfortunate. I think they are a great invention. I mean, I'm talking right up there with electricity and the telephone and Brooks running shoes and mangoes and the cotton gin.
So anyways, until my eye gets better, I guess I'll just have to type and do my job and drive and run with my eyes closed (which, oddly enough, I actually have been known to do before...the running, not the driving). I obviously can't see all the mass destruction going on around me anyhow...and I'm probably better off...
The only problem with them is when I have to actually wear them. They're pretty to look at, but when I have to wear them, I have to resist from looking up, down, and using any peripheral vision, or I absolutely CANNOT see a thing. The world is one big blur. I mean mass murder could be going on beside me or above me and I'd have no idea (assuming all was silent and I couldn't turn my head either). This is a very dangerous situation.
And I don't even want to get into running. But I will. I mean, you run with glasses, and it's just a disaster cause you start to sweat, and they slide right down. And if you don't wear them, then how do you know where you're going? I mean are you even running on the sidewalk or are you headed for a line full or cars going 55 and about to pancake you? Are you still on the treadmill belt? Or getting dangerously close to the side edge where if you even touch a piece of the stationary part of the treadmill, you'll fly off or lose your footing or make a fool of yourself somehow (if I need to state the obvious, you must stay ON the treadmill belt if you want things to end well). True story--it's happened to all of us. Katie witnessed this very thing in the gym, some Rico Suave who literally flew off the back. Awkward. Not only did he get back on, but he had to prove himself. He got back on and ramped up that speed. Joe cool over here. If you're lucky, you'll have the gym all to yourself if this ever happens.
And for someone who isn't good with directions in the first place (and by "not good", I mean Casey registered us for a GPS for the wedding because of me...and I get lost in a city I've lived in for 28 years but whatev, I pay attention to the important things and driving is not one of them), not being able to see is a huge problemo.
So this is my current woe: I CAN'T SEE. The only reason I know what I'm typing is because I took keyboarding all through middle school, and I don't have to look at the letters when I type. Sometimes, I close my eyes when I type to make work more exciting. Well, the reason I can't see is because, I actually don't know why I can't see. I just woke up one day this week and my right eye is bright blood-red. Gross out, huh? Well it's true. It doesn't itch or hurt, it's just bright red. And then the other night it felt like someone was throwing darts at my eye. Or that a window broke and all the pieces fell into my eye (cause I'm sure both of those things happen to alot of people). That felt good. It doesn't hurt now, but when I try to put my contacts in, it burns. I have an unhealthy love for my contacts so this is unfortunate. I think they are a great invention. I mean, I'm talking right up there with electricity and the telephone and Brooks running shoes and mangoes and the cotton gin.
So anyways, until my eye gets better, I guess I'll just have to type and do my job and drive and run with my eyes closed (which, oddly enough, I actually have been known to do before...the running, not the driving). I obviously can't see all the mass destruction going on around me anyhow...and I'm probably better off...
The Birthday Monster
Somebody has a birthday coming up soon...and by soon, I mean in two days.
You guessed it--this girl.
I just, I don't like birthdays because I feel like that means I'm even more of an adult than I was last year, and how adult can you actually get? I don't even know what's possible or even how all this works. I mean don't get me wrong, sometimes I still think I'm 22, but other times I feel like I'm 35 (ok, that might be pushing it a smidge). However, I'm often mistaken for 16 or 18 or some other absurdity along the same lines.
To give you a few examples:
a) I was in the ABC store one time and purchasing a beverage, and the man behind the counter asks me for an id and proceeds to ask if I'm even old enough to buy cigarettes. Actually, sir, I don't know. I have no desire to smoke, so I really don't even know how old you have to be to buy cigarettes. I imagine it's around 16 years old...does this mean I look 15?
b) Me and Fancypants Jr. and Ashley Marie were in Charleston recently (lovely, rockin little town)...a tour guide asked us if were there on Spring Break. High school? College? I'm really not sure (but props to us for looking wrinkle-free). And was he looking to rob the cradle? Illegal activities? I'm not sure where exactly he was going with that...we kept walking. Probably at a little bit quicker pace than we started out at.
c) I was looking at jewelry for the wedding...MY wedding. The sales lady in the jewelry store asks if I'm looking for earrings for prom...yes, I am actually. To go with my sequined rainbow color dress and peacock feather in my curly-sue curled hair. No actually, that's a JK, I'm the bride. That's all what I wanted to say, but I think I may have looked at her blankly. I feel like I make this face alot. I need to learn to censor my expressions I think.
(P.s. I'd like to add that I used that phrase to justify so many things in the couple months right before the wedding "because I'm the bride"...and we decided that I could use it until the honeymoon was over. But, I feel like I really can keep using it until we get the professional pictures back. I'm lobbying for an extension of my bride-ness. And since no one is objecting, I think everyone is on board. That was much easier than I anticipated.)
d) I was getting a manicure circa April 2011, and the lady doing my nails asks me if I'm graduating this weekend. I'm flattered, really, and I know UNCC is down the road, but come on. Or maybe she meant high school...
I really do NOT have a problem with this. I think it's funny, and I LOVE it (except when it diminishes the respect I get and the responsibility people think I have). And it helps stave off the fears of the birthday monster. And my cute little momma looks about 30, so I think I have some good genes waiting for me.
It's funny how things change though. When I was little, birthdays were:
1. taking cupcakes to school (not for me though, cause I'm a summer baby),
2. sitting in the front seat of the car all week (you didn't have to stay in the car for the full week...you could get in and out, but when you went somewhere, you didn't have to rotate with sisters during birthday week),
3. favorite birthday cereal (with no exceptions even if sugar-level was off the charts and ALL to yourself with no obligation to share with sisters! yes, please!),
4. wearing mom's lipstick for the day (inevitably to make you look that year older? no? or just cause it was so special),
5. and birthday dinner!
Now, I have no classroom to take cupcakes to, I HAVE to sit in the front seat all the time (because my car will not drive itself to work, not sure why yet and it's really beyond me, what with all this technology and what not), I can buy my own cereal (which I don't do and even if I did I wouldn't have time to eat it before work in the mornings), and I have my own lipstick.
The older you get the more time flies, and the less the little things seem so special. So I do wish it was my 8th birthday instead of my 28th birthday, but I'm so blessed and have so many truly amazing people in my life and experiences under my belt, that I guess it kinda makes being 28 not-so-bad.
So yes, my birthday is coming too quickly, and I don't like being the center of attention, but I do love the Happy Birthday's and the feeling-special-that-people-care feeling. The birthday monster has been visiting for nearly 28 years, and I seem to survive each year, but you just never know! So until the birthday monster comes and goes, I'll just sleep with one eye open. And maybe he'll bring me a puppy this year.
**If so, we'll also need a bed, a leash, a harness, puppy food, a brush, a toothbrush, puppy shampoo, carpet cleaner, a couple puppy toys, some allergy pills, a puppy sweater for the winter, and 4 puppy boots for the mountains. Oh, and a new camera for all the pictures.
You guessed it--this girl.
I just, I don't like birthdays because I feel like that means I'm even more of an adult than I was last year, and how adult can you actually get? I don't even know what's possible or even how all this works. I mean don't get me wrong, sometimes I still think I'm 22, but other times I feel like I'm 35 (ok, that might be pushing it a smidge). However, I'm often mistaken for 16 or 18 or some other absurdity along the same lines.
To give you a few examples:
a) I was in the ABC store one time and purchasing a beverage, and the man behind the counter asks me for an id and proceeds to ask if I'm even old enough to buy cigarettes. Actually, sir, I don't know. I have no desire to smoke, so I really don't even know how old you have to be to buy cigarettes. I imagine it's around 16 years old...does this mean I look 15?
b) Me and Fancypants Jr. and Ashley Marie were in Charleston recently (lovely, rockin little town)...a tour guide asked us if were there on Spring Break. High school? College? I'm really not sure (but props to us for looking wrinkle-free). And was he looking to rob the cradle? Illegal activities? I'm not sure where exactly he was going with that...we kept walking. Probably at a little bit quicker pace than we started out at.
c) I was looking at jewelry for the wedding...MY wedding. The sales lady in the jewelry store asks if I'm looking for earrings for prom...yes, I am actually. To go with my sequined rainbow color dress and peacock feather in my curly-sue curled hair. No actually, that's a JK, I'm the bride. That's all what I wanted to say, but I think I may have looked at her blankly. I feel like I make this face alot. I need to learn to censor my expressions I think.
(P.s. I'd like to add that I used that phrase to justify so many things in the couple months right before the wedding "because I'm the bride"...and we decided that I could use it until the honeymoon was over. But, I feel like I really can keep using it until we get the professional pictures back. I'm lobbying for an extension of my bride-ness. And since no one is objecting, I think everyone is on board. That was much easier than I anticipated.)
d) I was getting a manicure circa April 2011, and the lady doing my nails asks me if I'm graduating this weekend. I'm flattered, really, and I know UNCC is down the road, but come on. Or maybe she meant high school...
I really do NOT have a problem with this. I think it's funny, and I LOVE it (except when it diminishes the respect I get and the responsibility people think I have). And it helps stave off the fears of the birthday monster. And my cute little momma looks about 30, so I think I have some good genes waiting for me.
It's funny how things change though. When I was little, birthdays were:
1. taking cupcakes to school (not for me though, cause I'm a summer baby),
2. sitting in the front seat of the car all week (you didn't have to stay in the car for the full week...you could get in and out, but when you went somewhere, you didn't have to rotate with sisters during birthday week),
3. favorite birthday cereal (with no exceptions even if sugar-level was off the charts and ALL to yourself with no obligation to share with sisters! yes, please!),
4. wearing mom's lipstick for the day (inevitably to make you look that year older? no? or just cause it was so special),
5. and birthday dinner!
Now, I have no classroom to take cupcakes to, I HAVE to sit in the front seat all the time (because my car will not drive itself to work, not sure why yet and it's really beyond me, what with all this technology and what not), I can buy my own cereal (which I don't do and even if I did I wouldn't have time to eat it before work in the mornings), and I have my own lipstick.
The older you get the more time flies, and the less the little things seem so special. So I do wish it was my 8th birthday instead of my 28th birthday, but I'm so blessed and have so many truly amazing people in my life and experiences under my belt, that I guess it kinda makes being 28 not-so-bad.
So yes, my birthday is coming too quickly, and I don't like being the center of attention, but I do love the Happy Birthday's and the feeling-special-that-people-care feeling. The birthday monster has been visiting for nearly 28 years, and I seem to survive each year, but you just never know! So until the birthday monster comes and goes, I'll just sleep with one eye open. And maybe he'll bring me a puppy this year.
**If so, we'll also need a bed, a leash, a harness, puppy food, a brush, a toothbrush, puppy shampoo, carpet cleaner, a couple puppy toys, some allergy pills, a puppy sweater for the winter, and 4 puppy boots for the mountains. Oh, and a new camera for all the pictures.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Coffee for two, please...um, I mean one...uh okay, none.
After my coffee experience this morning, I've decided that today is the day to officially start a blog. Totally blog-worthy morning (in my eyes at least...and probably anyone else who has a love-hate addiction to coffee).
So, I'm married now (yayyyyyyyyyy), and that means I've learned how to make coffee--at home! Raise the roof for saving money...I feel like even though it's only been 7 weeks of marriage (one of which doesn't really count because we had bottomless cups of free coffee on the honeymoon cruise), we're saving gazillions of dollars MAKING coffee instead of BUYING it. It's so great. I feel so green when we make coffee every morning.
With that being said, obviously we always make coffee for two. 10 cups to be exact. One carnival-cruise-travel-coffee-mug full for me and one carnival-cruise-travel-coffee-mug for Casey (yes, we bought matching ones on said honeymoon cruise cause we're so darn cute). Then an extra little thermos full for Casey to take to work just cause I feel like that's what men do. They take extra thermoses of coffee to work. So this is the coffee recipe (10 cup pot) I learned when we got married.
So, last week, Casey had to stay in Tennessee over night for work, and I had to figure out how to make 4 cups of coffee. Coffee for one. Nightmare. I was literally scared. I think I may have been sweating. Bad coffee = bad news. It was surprisingly good, so I didn't have any reservation this morning when I had to do the same (Casey was in Greensboro...I wasn't being mean and not making him any).
I turn on the coffee while I'm getting ready and later walk into the kitchen to leave for work and find approximately 3 oz of coffee has been brewed. I mean, what do you do but stand there for 20 more minutes and watch the coffee percolate while you're getting later for work by the second? So that's what I did.
Oh. My. Word. Seriously. After, what?, 3 hours, I still only had half of a travel mug's worth of coffee. It must be broken. It's probably just me actually. Whatev. To make matters worse, I prematurely put my milk and splenda in the mug (which I NEVER have done in my life probably) assuming I would end up with a full mug...but I just couldn't wait any longer for this coffee to brew or why even go to work? Honestly.
So I poured what I had and the coffee was disgusting. I think I spit it into the sink. For one, too "sugary" and milky. And for two, it was cold. Beyond me how it could possibly be cold since it was JUST brewed...cold by my standards anyhow (usually, I drink my whole cup of blazing hot coffee before Casey or Katie can even take a sip).
So I get in my car with my nasty coffee and head to work late and stuck in traffic. Now Casey calls just cause he's, like, the sweetest husband ever, and of course, all I can say is "I WANT COFFEEEEEEEEEEEEE" (and he's the one that's been up since 2 am). So I recount my devastating story, and he's like why don't you just buy a cup of coffee?? And of course, I'm all about the fact that we don't spend money on coffee anymore (nevermind the fact that we have to actually buy our grounds, cream, and filters), so I refuse to buy a cup of coffee and our coffeemaker MUST be broken. So of course, on my way into work, I stop at my faithful Wilco Hess gas station that sells Dunkin Donuts (only THE best) coffee, to fill up. Not only should it taste A-MAZING cause I paid $1.06 for it (break the bank...can we even afford Christmas presents this year?), but because of everything I had to go through to get it.
So not-amazing. Or maybe I'm just used to our coffee now. And the extra love it's made with in the morning. And cause I'm so proud of our efforts to save money. Oh well, hopefully tomorrow's coffee is better. Undoubtedly so if Casey makes it. Cause I'm sure the coffee pot will work just fine for him...coffee for two tomorrow, please.
So, I'm married now (yayyyyyyyyyy), and that means I've learned how to make coffee--at home! Raise the roof for saving money...I feel like even though it's only been 7 weeks of marriage (one of which doesn't really count because we had bottomless cups of free coffee on the honeymoon cruise), we're saving gazillions of dollars MAKING coffee instead of BUYING it. It's so great. I feel so green when we make coffee every morning.
With that being said, obviously we always make coffee for two. 10 cups to be exact. One carnival-cruise-travel-coffee-mug full for me and one carnival-cruise-travel-coffee-mug for Casey (yes, we bought matching ones on said honeymoon cruise cause we're so darn cute). Then an extra little thermos full for Casey to take to work just cause I feel like that's what men do. They take extra thermoses of coffee to work. So this is the coffee recipe (10 cup pot) I learned when we got married.
So, last week, Casey had to stay in Tennessee over night for work, and I had to figure out how to make 4 cups of coffee. Coffee for one. Nightmare. I was literally scared. I think I may have been sweating. Bad coffee = bad news. It was surprisingly good, so I didn't have any reservation this morning when I had to do the same (Casey was in Greensboro...I wasn't being mean and not making him any).
I turn on the coffee while I'm getting ready and later walk into the kitchen to leave for work and find approximately 3 oz of coffee has been brewed. I mean, what do you do but stand there for 20 more minutes and watch the coffee percolate while you're getting later for work by the second? So that's what I did.
Oh. My. Word. Seriously. After, what?, 3 hours, I still only had half of a travel mug's worth of coffee. It must be broken. It's probably just me actually. Whatev. To make matters worse, I prematurely put my milk and splenda in the mug (which I NEVER have done in my life probably) assuming I would end up with a full mug...but I just couldn't wait any longer for this coffee to brew or why even go to work? Honestly.
So I poured what I had and the coffee was disgusting. I think I spit it into the sink. For one, too "sugary" and milky. And for two, it was cold. Beyond me how it could possibly be cold since it was JUST brewed...cold by my standards anyhow (usually, I drink my whole cup of blazing hot coffee before Casey or Katie can even take a sip).
So I get in my car with my nasty coffee and head to work late and stuck in traffic. Now Casey calls just cause he's, like, the sweetest husband ever, and of course, all I can say is "I WANT COFFEEEEEEEEEEEEE" (and he's the one that's been up since 2 am). So I recount my devastating story, and he's like why don't you just buy a cup of coffee?? And of course, I'm all about the fact that we don't spend money on coffee anymore (nevermind the fact that we have to actually buy our grounds, cream, and filters), so I refuse to buy a cup of coffee and our coffeemaker MUST be broken. So of course, on my way into work, I stop at my faithful Wilco Hess gas station that sells Dunkin Donuts (only THE best) coffee, to fill up. Not only should it taste A-MAZING cause I paid $1.06 for it (break the bank...can we even afford Christmas presents this year?), but because of everything I had to go through to get it.
So not-amazing. Or maybe I'm just used to our coffee now. And the extra love it's made with in the morning. And cause I'm so proud of our efforts to save money. Oh well, hopefully tomorrow's coffee is better. Undoubtedly so if Casey makes it. Cause I'm sure the coffee pot will work just fine for him...coffee for two tomorrow, please.
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