My love affair

Like most people out there, I love to shop. Generally it doesn't matter what it's for - food, clothes, home decor, shoes, whatever - I like it. But thanks to blogger dooce.com I was introduced to Etsy. The most fantastic shopping known to man. I am not even exaggerating.

Etsy has become one of the greatest loves of my life for many reasons. How do I love thee, Etsy? Let me count the ways:
(1) It has anything and everything you could ever want on it
(2) All of it is handmade, recycled and/or vintage
(3) Everything is lovely
(4) You can find items in every price range
(5) Everything is unique

When Mat and I were not in the process of buying a house, I used to devote about $20 every two weeks to a purchase from a select seller on the site. Now, however, I just ogle at all the fantastic finds that come through on the daily Etsy Finds email.

On how I love these emails. I look forward to them everyday. They usually reach my inbox around 10am. And once I see the little (1) in my gmail window, I look to make sure it is indeed my Etsy mail. I then go pour myself another cup of coffee and proceed to delve into the deliciousness of the Etsy finds of the day.

I have purchased items for Birthdays, including this little gem for my sister's birthday and these inscribed cuff links for Mat's Birthday (I had the underside inscribed with "Your girl" and "I *heart* you"). I have also used Etsy to purchase DIY (do it yourself) baby shower invitations, which turned out so cute. And I have purchased many-a-items for myself, including these and this.

I have absolutely loved all my Etsy purchases. They have all been high quality and super cool, fun and unique. But a couple weeks ago I spotted a very special find on the daily Etsy Finds. It was awesome and I just had to have it. I immediately clicked on the shop's profile to find that the item was sold out (by the time I get the email, the promoted Etsy Finds are usually sold out). I was devastated. But I decided to contact the artist to see if there was any way that she would be producing more of these, and if so, would she mind contacting me. She immediately contacted me, asked my size, and it turned out that she had one left. I immediately ordered it and it came in the mail on Monday. Here is my newest lovely.

And you better believe I'm going to rock its socks off.

Check out Etsy ... you will too have a love affair.

Year Twenty Three

Let me start by apologizing to all my readers for being unfashionably absent from the blogosphere for the past two months. My life has been turned upside down on itself, leaving me a little out of my element and with so many thoughts, I don’t know if anyone out there could make any sense of it.

But with a recently past birthday, I thought what better time for new beginnings.

Twenty three is not one of those years that you hear people say, “That’s a great year.” In fact, after twenty one, you hardly hear that. But twenty three was a good year for me, and because much of the goodness happened away from my blog, I’ve decided to share some of the highlights:

May-June 2008: This is a little before my birthday … but I’m counting it. I officially graduated from undergrad. I had actually finished classes the previous December but couldn’t walk with my fellow graduates (Who schedules graduation 4 days before Christmas … UNLV). Had a huge party at Mat’s parent’s house. This was the first meeting of our families. And the first time I was tipsy in front of my family … yes that is a highlight!

July 2008: Mat and I traveled to Indiana to attend the two-day Dave Matthews Band festival with many of his back-home friends. We camped, got inebriated and watched and listened to great music.

September 2008: I met my new bff Liz.

October 2008: Pumpkin carving party at the house. Many of our friends came. We ate pizza, drank spiked apple cider, and carved some amazing pumpkins. I love my friends. Some of them have moved away, and I miss them!

November 2008: Mat and I went to New York together. I went for work; Mat tagged along. Maybe the greatest three days of my life. It was a much needed trip for our relationship. I loved New York. It was the first time I had ever been to the city, and I hope not my last.

November 2008: I started my blog: JustMeInMyTwenties

December 2008: I truly feared for my job.

February 2008: Mat and I both got acute pneumonia. Quite possibly the most pathetic days of our lives.

February – May 2009: Mat and I decide to look for a house to buy together. This was a long, frustrating, tearful process, but is soon to end with a very positive outcome – we hope.

April 2009: Mat and I celebrated our 4th anniversary. We lived it up at the Stratosphere!

April 2009: I traveled to Montreal, Canada and Dusseldorf, Germany for work. Had a great time. Experienced new places. And even though I had to leave Mat and my animals at home, I got to see them every night, thanks to Skype.

May 2009: Mat and I go from an almost 2,000 square-foot house to a 10x10 room. We moved out of our subleased rental house that we spent the last year in together and into his parent’s house. Things are not bad. But I miss my animals so much and all my stuff and space.

June 2009: Mat and I find a house. Closing date is July 20th. Cross your fingers that everything works out.

June 2009: I start training for a half marathon with my sisters. I have run over 50 miles this month. That is probably more than all the miles I have run/walked, up till this point, in my life combined.

June 25th 2009: I turned 24. Looking forward to another great year!

I know there are so many other events that happened in my twenty-third year, but these are main ones that come to mind. I feel really lucky that this past year was full of good friends, good music, good goals and good times in general.

I don’t want to jinx anything but I feel like the years keep getting better and better. I make better and closer friends who have become my family. I learn from my mistakes and try to be a more complete Katie. One of the most important goals for me is to constantly evolve. To have a good idea what my likes are; dislikes are; what my style is and what makes me happy. It doesn’t matter if the list is cohesive or not. I just want to be content, strong and secure, emotional, physically and mentally. I would be lying if I said that aging does not scare me a little. It does. But the solace in aging is that I like what I see.

Here's to a great twenty-fourth year.

A table only a mother could love

Two days ago I sold this table to a couple that responded to my craigslist ad. I had it listed for a few weeks. First at $100, then after a week of no interested buyers $75. So, when I finally got a call I was a bit relieved. But more than relieved, I was sad.

This table was a special piece of furniture. It was the first piece of furniture I acquired while on my own. A classmate my second semester of school gave it to me. Her name was Shelia - a cute little lady probably in her late 50s early 60s. Shelia and I became pretty good girlfriends. She told me all about her life and I told her all about my roommate's and my wild and crazy apartment adventures. I told her about our fine furnishing, which consisted of a cardboard box and a tent in our front room in order to use up some of our space. After hearing all my stories I think she was torn between three distinct feelings toward me (1) I think I reminded her of her youth (2) I'm sure she felt sorry for my lack of well everything and (3) I'm fairly certain she thought I was crazy. The feeling sorry for me part won. She offered to give me, for free, a dining set that her sister and husband were getting rid of. I promptly went over to her house to see the table. And it was truly a treasure.

What stood before me was a 1970s brown-tinted glass-top table with four beige leather chairs. And the fixtures were light-stained wood and brass tubing. The glass was cut in an octagon, giving any room a little geometric flair!

I loved this table. This table moved with me to all of my apartments thereafter - my studio; the boyfriend's and my loft and then the house. It wasn't always being used; it was often in storage. But I could never get rid of it. We moved it from the garage into the house for our Halloween pumpkin carving party last year. And we never moved it back. Instead we gave it a semi-permanent home in the kitchen even though we already had a nice kitchen table. And when anyone came over instead of sitting at our nice table, everyone congregated around the 1970s table.

Well, I decided to sell my little vintage table. The boyfriend and I are moving soon, and most likely we will be moving into storage. So we don't want to have to move, store and then move again anything we aren't going to end up using. But I was determined to find the perfect owner for this table. I wanted to find some cute person who loves vintage items. And who would find this table just as special as I found it. Is that too much to ask? I just wanted this table - that has really accompanied me through my adult life - to have a good home and good owner that would appreciate all its 1970s flair!

Said person was not found. I'm sure the table has a good home and fine owners now, but I'm sad that the perfect person didn't come-a-callin'. I'm sad that I totally sold out and sold my table for a measly 65 bucks. But the good news is that I sold the table, and I think I sold the table to a couple that needs a table. Maybe the love and appreciation for that fine piece of furniture will come in time.

A drunken mess

Based on not just one, not just a couple, but quite a few bad drunken experiences, I have come to the conclusion that I am not the best drunk.

I have been known to wander off, pick fights with the boyfriend and black out. If you couldn't gather, making sound decisions is another struggle while under the influence. Luckily for me, I have someone who is there to take care of me. Unluckily for him, he is there to take care of me. I imagine babysitting his drunk, crazy girlfriend is not the recipe for the best night of his life. He has to keep track of me, to make sure that I don't walk into the the men's restroom or try to drive home. He has to hold my hair while I'm bent over the sidewalk, trash can or toilet. And he has had to deal with many unnecessary full-blown fights, which only escalate due to the fact that I am so drunk I would walk in the men's restroom, drive home, puke, black out and believe that fighting while drunk is an excellent idea.

Just a few weeks ago we decided to go out to the clubs (not a normal activity for us) and it resulted in many of the things mentioned above. I got trashed. I kept ordering drinks. I couldn't add. Resulting in $42 bills with $10 tips that totaled $75. How does that work? I have no clue. Thankfully, the boyfriend caught my excellent adding skills and promptly took away my debit card. This drunken night resulted in me wandering off more than a couple times, where no one in our group knew where I was. And to be quite honest, I can't remember where I was. This also resulted in puke in my front yard, my hair, all over my clothes and bathroom. Now that was a classy night! The one positive thing I can say about that night is that the boyfriend and I did not fight (as mentioned above, a common occurrence while drinking). The sad part was that when I woke up the next morning, I was afraid to ask how the the night ended up, for fear that we had fought and I was just too drunk to remember.

So this coming Saturday, to celebrate the boyfriend's 26th birthday, we are going to Studio 54 with some friends. This will no doubt result in a drunken night. And I have been prepping myself for a better night.

My goal is to limit myself, take it slow and still have a good time. I am hoping that I will accomplish this by making this night about the boyfriend. For once, he shouldn't have to be the one keeping track of me. He shouldn't be the one calling a cab for me and holding my hair. I'm hoping that I can keep reminding myself that this night is for HIM. And maybe if it turns out to be a successful, still fun night, it won't be so hard for me to have some self control next time.

The Word on Weight Loss: Month 1

I know I said that I wanted to get serious back in December, but come on. It was December, right before Christmas and all that food - that deliciously bad food! So, I think we all knew how that was actually going to go.

But the news in not all bleak. The 1st of the the year came, and I decided, once again, to be serious. The difference this time was that Christmas was over, one; two, I had a friend who also wanted to get serious; and three, the first of the year is always a good time to make a change.

On January 12th, I put my close to 25lb. overweight butt back into the Weight Watchers program, where I hope it will stay this time around!

I have found myself reverting back to some of the old ways. Measuring out my cottage cheese in the morning. Counting my crackers. And keeping my handy little food tracker open and next to me daily. This might sound like work. And I'm not going to lie. It is. It is irritating and can be embarrassing depending on the situation, but I know the results are worth it. And once I do it, and incorporate it into my routine, I know it's not that bad. And honestly, as lame as it sounds, I am addicted to routine, so doing all this on a daily basis makes me feel good.

Although the food part is not too difficult and I'm embracing it, the exercise part is quite a different story. I cannot seem to do it. I'm not even trying. I think to myself, "Ok, today I'm going to make it to the gym." One thought,that's it. It doesn't enter my mind - in any positive, proactive way - again. Well, until the next day when I have the same conversation with myself. It's very simple: I just don't want to. And convincing myself otherwise has, so far, been impossible.

As much as I want this, and I will do what I need to, to get back to the weight I want (at least 150) I recently had a revelation about my character. A few days after I joined Weight Watchers, I met up with a friend that I've had since high school. She has been having some family issues, familiar ground for me, and we were swapping tricks of the trade. She was very nervous that characteristics that she hates about her dad are unfortunately coming to the surface in her own personality.

I then relayed my experience with bad characteristics rubbing off on me. My step-dad is someone who needs constant praise. I mean the man needs a congratulations for simply breathing. I definitely do not take it this far, but I do need constant praise in my life.

I didn't ever think that this stretched so far into my life. But after this conversation, I was reminded of another conversation I had back in August 2007 with the boyfriend. I was telling him how nervous I was about hitting my lifetime weight at Weight Watchers. Sounds crazy, I know. But I was nervous because I felt like after I hit my weight I wouldn't have anything left to work toward. Well that was half of it, but I think the bigger half was that without the weekly praise from the boyfriend, my mom, my sister, his family, etc. I wouldn't have the motivation to continue. After a while, no one would think/hopefully say, "Oh wow, look how much weight you lost ... you look so great ... you worked so hard." It would eventually just be commonplace - what I accomplished would eventually just be commonplace.

Maybe that sounds vain. I'm sure it does. But, it's the truth. The truth for me anyway. And I'm glad that I know this now. That I can vocalize it and acknowledge that this perspective, this personality trait can be dangerous. But it can also be managed now that I'm aware of it. So I figure that I can either work hard at curbing this feeling - this motivation. Or I can make the boyfriend sign a contract to tell me how must weight I've lost and how great I look. Either way, I think it's a win-win situation. (That is if I lose the weight!)

Oh and by the way, this month I lost 5.2 lbs!

I've got Skills

If picking was an Olympic Sport, I'd win the gold metal. Not only am I a skilled physical picker but I also have quite a talent with verbal picking. The boyfriend will vouch for both!