What I've done today

*Wrote about the debut of a new shelter title. In this economy? Ha!

*Researched and wrote my weekly historical installment for Leavenworth's local newspaper. This week's topic? Famous visitors to the Leav.

*Beefed up my profile and sent out some invites to an amazing web 2.0 resource for journalists. Oh, and I'm trying to win a Macbook or a trip to a really cool conference.

*Reconnected with a former Star co-worker over lunch.

*Brainstormed about the best way to get from Leavenworth to 91st and Nall in Johnson County ... and which coffeeshop could I hit up on the way? This one's my fav, but I'll take other recommendations!

*Tweet, tweet, tweet!

Now I'm off to celebrate the birthday of the Mama Dee with some Mexican deliciousness. I'll be counting chips, though. Gotta make my three-pound goal for this week!

Let's get physical!

Those of you who hear me complain regularly, both in person and on Facebook, know that I've started personal training sessions with the lovely and talented Cherryh Butler. The weekly meetings are, in fact, an incredibly generous wedding gift from my own personal fitness idol.

So it's a no-brainer, then, to assume that the sweat, blood and tears are being channeled into making me the buffest, baddest-ass bride ever. Sure, that's a primary goal. But I need shorter-term gratification while huffing and puffing through mountain climbers, planks, and other assorted torture devices masquerading as exercises.

Things I think about during my workouts include:
*Beyonce. She's one of my girl crushes and ultimate idols, along with ScarJo, Nicole from PCD and WWE's reigning diva, Lilian Garcia.

*Swimming. It never fails. When I sweat, I think about jumping into a huge pool. Refreshing!

*Clothes, clothes, clothes. As I've grown older, I've tried to embrace a healthy lifestyle instead of only losing weight to fit into certain things. But, come on -- it's one of the best benefits. I'm working toward this little number right now -- I think I could rock this with some good jeans and a simple necklace.

And, of course, my upcoming nuptials. Dress shopping, shoe shopping, accessory shopping, oh my! The bigger the biceps, the more bags I can carry :)

So far I'm down 7 pounds and am gaining muscle by the week. I'll keep you posted, and feel free to let me know your own fitness motivators.

Shameless self-promotion . . .

. . . or the blog in which I share some thrilling career news with you!

I've been hinting (rather maddeningly, I confess) to some possible career news throughout the last few months, and I can finally and proudly announce that I will be a published book author!!!

I'm writing a KC guidebook for the Moon Handbook series, a division of Avalon Travel. I am so terribly and incredibly excited about this, and so proud to be able to shine a much-deserved spotlight on my beloved Kansas City.

It'll be an interesting balance of work, as I have to get cracking right away. But I'm thrilled to get started, and to see where this takes me. I'll post more as I go, and will let you know an anticipated publishing date when I have it. I'm estimating some time in the first half of next year.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! And with that, I'm out!

The things we do for love

Confession time.

Throughout most of my life, I've been anti-Valentine's Day (I just don't understand it, and as I told a friend earlier this week, it's not like I NEED an excuse to eat chocolate.)

In fact, V-Day kinda sorta pisses me off. In elementary school, it's great. Everyone has to make valentines for each other -- happy day. Then in junior high and high school, it's a big giant heart-wrenching spectacle to see who gets flowers, or balloons, or candy, or other sugary, sappy, lace-covered gifts that scream "I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I SPENT $40 AT THE GERBES FLOWER DEPT!" (Anyone else grow up with Gerbes grocery stores? No? Never mind.) Suffice it to say that for all but one year in high school, I was a member of the forlorn group that scuttled quickly through the halls, our lockers free of pink and red adornments, our hands sweatily clutching our books instead of a drooping bouquet of half-closed roses.

Anyways. I digress. For the last two Valentine's Days, Rob and I have celebrated with handmade gifts. Through my rose-colored glasses (har, har, pun intended!), it's a fitting compromise. "I love you, but I don't have to spend a bunch of money to tell you that, so I'm sort of protesting the commercialism of this odd holiday."

This year, I've been given the Ultimate Challenge. I'm creating a comic for Rob, based on . . . well, I don't know what it's about yet. Probably us. But I'm freaking out a little. This will be a huge test for my writing repertoire, and you don't want to even know about my draw-ring skills. It ain't gonna be pretty, folks. Two words: Stick people! But it's the thought that counts, right?

Time to go cram with the help of this handy-dandy tutorial. And by the way, if any respectable comic creators or illustrators happen by this blog, please don't judge. I have no hopes of injecting myself into the comic industry, unless it's in the form of a collabo w/ my beloved. And even then, I'll make him do most of the work! Now THAT'S true love!

Weekend recap!

While playing airport chauffeur on Saturday, I broke down and accompanied Dana to the aforementioned mecca -- and yes, it's everything I hoped it would be and more. It's also within walking distance of my apartment, so this will be a supreme test of my financial willpower in the coming months.

Saturday night, we headed south of the border (to Johnson County, of course!) and celebrated Jamie's birthday, fiesta style! Thanks to Meghann for the gnarly mustaches, courtesy of a pre-fiesta stop at a local party store.



That's yours truly on the right, accompanied by the birthday girl. I'm practicing my best Don Juanita come hither stare. It's working, right?

Sunday found R. & I in a haze of post-party sleep. Not waking up until 11:30 puts a dent in the day, so I can't report much. The afternoon passed in the haze of a Biggest Loser Season 4 marathon, followed by the Grammys, always entertaining yet perpetually a failure at honoring those who actually deserve merit.

Photo courtesy of The Daily Contributor

The hero of the night? M.I.A. If I looked this good and could rock out with the Rap Pack on the day I'm due to give birth, you best believe I'd be up there, too.

Until my next post, kick back, relax and dream of your next vacation with this bit of hilarity courtesy of my favorite SNL cast members. 'Scuse me while I grab my flippy floppys, and I'll meet you ON A BOAT!

A fitting farewell

Well, if my favorite magazine has to close, then I'm happy it's getting the send off it deserves. And a thank you to the lovely Dana for the heads-up on the article.

Let them eat cake!

Note: An accompanying picture will be posted later today.

Add this to your "That Just Happened" file, lovely readers.

Scene: Leawood Town Center AMC 20, lobby, post-premiere of "He's Just Not That Into You."
A group of 8 friends and I are gathered to rehash the movie and ogle the delicious cake I won from Dragonfly Bakery 'cuz I'm engaged and I danced in front of an entire theater while dropping the gem "He IS just that into me!" True story.

Small talk ensues. Numerous passers-by stop to comment on the cake, iced with the "HJNTIY" gem "No answer is your answer." An older "gentleman" approaches.
Random dude: That cake looks great! How is it?
Me: I don't know! I haven't tasted it yet.
Random dude peers into box.
RD: Is that icing or fondant?
Me (smiling the "You're an idiot" smile): I have no idea.
Without warning, RD swoops two fingers into the end of the heart-shaped cake, obliterating it into a pile of crushed cake-icing hybrid that he proceeds to stuff in his mouth.
Me, staring, mouth open, unsure of what to do. Laughter builds from the friends who have witnessed the insanity.
RD: What? What's so funny? Why are people laughing?
Meghann (in a voice that is equal parts authoritative, disgusted and shocked): SIR!
RD leaves, licking his fingers.
Laughter reaches several decibels as reality sets in. I start to hop around, cake box in hand, avoiding the pee that is threatening to escape my Diet Coke-soaked bladder.

PSA: For your future cake needs, please consider Dragonfly Bakery. Not only are they connoisseurs of fluffy cake laced with raspberry filling and coated with deliciously sugary icing, but they make cakes so good that RANDOM STRANGERS STICK THEIR HANDS INTO THEM!

A grassroots effort

Some talented and enterprising bloggers have hit the keyboards in an attempt to save a beloved magazine.

Eulogy of a brewpub

A cursory check of the Star's evening headlines left me saddened after reading about the demise of one of my favorite local restaurants.

Sadly, restaurant and retail closings (just like magazine shut-downs) are becoming an increasingly common by-product of a viciously insatiable recession. Yet I felt the need to write a few words about RMB, because aside from offering one of the best hamburgers I've had the privilege of sinking my teeth into, it holds one of my favorite Ryox* memories.

Flash back three years to a cold - no, scratch that - FRIGID winter's day. Jamie and I bundled up and headed down to a River Market packed with hopefuls vying for a coveted spot on America's favorite reality show (well, it's my favorite reality show. And right now, on my blog, I count as 'America'!)

The line snaked around the block surrounding the brewery, and for more than eight hours, Jamie and I stood shivering, making small talk with other prospective contestants. (Ben from the music conservatory at UMKC, I don't know where you are but I hope you're doing well and I regret not exchanging e-mail addresses with you!) Finally, just as my nose hairs were beginning to freeze and break off, we made it To Mecca -- a.k.a. the interior of the brewery.

(Side note: I couldn't help but think that it was kind of cruel to hold Biggest Loser tryouts in a brewery full of the smells of onion rings, hamburgers, nachos and other calorically intoxicating treats. I'm sure the restaurant's owners were doing a jig in the back, thinking of all the business they'd make off the starving and frozen fatties desperate to consummate their new friendships with plates of grease-covered awesomeness.)

So we gathered around in a circle in groups of 12-15. Jamie and I had assessed our competition, and we were ready. The interviewer proceeded with a few questions -- "What's your goal weight?" "Why do you want to be on the show?" The other earnest hopefuls didn't have a chance. Jamie and I charmed and sparkled with our witty repartee, our sincere honesty, and our wholesome Midwestern approachability. In fact, we even noticed the interviewer scribbling notes on our applications.

We left RMB in a haze of ecstatic glee, sure that we would receive a phone call (before 10 p.m. CST) notifying us that we would, in fact, be training with Bob and Jillian on the Biggest Loser Campus. Elated, we headed to The Peanut (how could you not eat wings after that??) and watched our phones. for. hours.

Alas, the calls never came. To the Biggest Loser producers, you lost out on what would have been the greatest and most entertaining duo EVER.

And to the RMB owners and employees, thank you for providing the backdrop for what remains one of my favorite memories. I will miss your nachos, your cheeseburgers, your delicious onion rings -- and your vodka lemonades, which are made with the "secret" ingredient (it's all about pink lemonade!).

Safe travels to that Great Brewpub in the Sky, RMB. I'd lift a glass of strawberry blonde to you, but, you know, I don't drink beer. So I'll pour a Diet Coke out for you instead.

Love,
Katy


*Ryox = a last name hybrid created by the linking of mine and Jamie's last names. It also signifies the permanence of our heterosexual life partnership, which is nearing 20 years young! It's good to be a Ryox.

Funnies for the Monday

You MUST go read this blog -- if only for the brilliant Photoshop work that accompanies it! I'm still laughing . . .