Family Mottos

I grew up with 5 of them.

1. There's a place for everything, and everything in its place.

2. Take care of your equipment, and your equipment will take care of you.

3. Always dance when you've got the chance.

4. Measure twice, cut once.

5. Don't get mad, get even.

My Mom sent me an email with the following poem, saying This is why you should dance when you've got the chance!

The Dancers Inherit the Party by Ian Hamilton Finlay When I have talked for an hour I feel lousy— Not so when I have danced for an hour: The dancers inherit the party While the talkers wear themselves out and            sit in corners alone, and glower.

Here's to dancing this weekend!

Highlights from spending the weekend with my family in the midwest.

I believe Pittsburgh is in the midwest.  And I KNOW that all of you born and raised 'burghers will tell me how I'm wrong (I once had a date explain to me over dinner why I was incorrect based on historical  events and geography of Pittsburgh), BUT, as a born and raised Eastern snob, I will tell you, it is most certainly, the midwest.

My parents however come from the undeniably midwestern state of Minnesota.  I still have a lot of family there, and that is where I spent labor day weekend, attending the wedding of one cousin, the baby shower of another, and generally eating a lot of cake.  Which, was completely fine by me.

Highlights:

- Every once in a while I hear Pittsburgher's complain about mosquitos.  'Burghers, you have no idea.  I had welts on my neck and face from 1 hour outside during brunch on Sunday.

- Driving with my parents requires written directions, a gps, my iphone, and some how, my Mom and Dad still end up bickering over where we're going, and then I inevitably jump in when I get that I can't take it anymore feeling, which is no way actually helpful.  My sister sits in the back and rolls her eyes.  I admire her silence.

- My dear cousin who I am very close to just got engaged, and asked me to be a bridesmaid.  I am super excited, and also suspect that this may be where my life becomes that of Katherine Heigl's in 27 Dresses.  Only instead of a hunky reporter from the NY Times, can I get Brett Ehrlich from Current TV to fall in love with me please?

- My family drinks coffee.  All. The. Time.  Now, I love coffee, a lot.  But, I've got myself used to a big cup in the morning, and maybe, MAYBE one in the afternoon if I'm really crashing.  After 3 days of basically mainlining coffee however, my one cup was not cutting it.  So I got a latte for lunch.  And have spent the remainder of the afternoon twitching at my desk between the caffeine and lack of food.  (because if I wasn't drinking coffee this weekend, I was eating.  Usually both.)

Maybe due to the fact that I skipped lunch, maybe due to the fact that I'm finally getting the hang of this cooking thing (thanks CSA!), but I found like 17 recipes via blogs and twitter which I can't wait to try.  And then sent them to Precisely, because really, my favorite form of cooking goes like this.

      Precisely is in the kitchen sautéing.           

      I wander in holding a wine glass, "Wow babe, that smells great!"
      Him: raised eyebrows.
      Me: swirl, swirl.

I almost always clean up though.

- Getting your foot stepped on with a stiletto hurts like heck!  And will cause you to tear up whether you want to or not, (which you definitely don't), and you'll find yourself waving your hands in front of your face like a beauty queen telling people you're fine as you choke back sobs, and pray your mascara won't run.

- Conversation with my family as we're about to leave for the wedding.
My Dad: "Kels, you look great!"
My Aunt: "Very chic."
My Mom: "That skirt is so short!"

- Conversation with my recently engaged cousin.
Cousin: "I guess you're next!"
Me: "uhhhhhh"
Cousin: "Unless your sister beats you!"
My Sister: "uhhhhhhh"

It was a good weekend.  I don't make it up there often enough.

That One Time Social Media Totally Backfired and Completely Embarrassed Me... WHILE ON A DATE!

If you read this blog (HI GRANDMAMA), you know that it is not anonymous. I firmly believe that if you put something out on the internet, then it is public regardless of what your security settings are or how hard you try to hide your identity. There are algorithms, and codes, and tracking devices (probably), and while I don’t know how all that works, there are nerds and hackers that do.

All that being said, I’m very comfortable with people finding me online. Friend me on facebook, follow me on twitter, google me, addictomatic me, I don’t care, there’s nothing to hide. Family, friends, coworkers, we can all be connected on line. We’re all friends. There is no public and personal life on line, it’s all public. I thought this approach to Social Media was very smart of me. And maybe it still is. But last night, I finally got burned.

So, I’ve been seeing this guy. And until I come up with a better nickname for him on the blog, we will refer to him as “Guy I’ve Been Seeing” or GIBS for short (and this is what happens, GIBS, when you say sure, I can write about you just don’t use your real name).

In a long ago post, I mentioned how I rarely go out with guys on more than 3 dates, so when it happens, it’s exciting. You know what else is exciting? Dating someone for like a month, who is a fun and interesting person, who your friends approve of, who makes you laugh, and who also happens to be a good kisser.

You know what isn’t exciting? Or fun? When you’ve just had a great date, and he’s about to drive you home, and checks his iPhone, and asks if you know someone who has requested to follow him on twitter because you share the same last name as this person, and you realize in horror, that the request came from your mother!

Did. Not. See that one coming. Ever.

My Mom refuses to join facebook. She only has a twitter account because I set it up for her. She has never tweeted. She only follows 2 people. Me and @Coro_Pittsburgh. Yet somehow, this happened.

So of course, I was so embarrassed. How does one handle that situation??? What do you say? “Oh yea, guy I’ve been seeing for a month, that’s my Mom who requested to follow you on Twitter.”

GIBS to his credit, was a good sport about the whole thing, and laughed and said his Mom would have done the same thing if she was on twitter, (only she’s not and she didn’t). He did text me later that night, so apparently he hasn’t been scared off thinking me or my family is totally crazy. Or maybe he does and is ok with that anyways.

I called my Mom the next day, and she had no idea she requested anything of anyone. She apparently was trying to open some hyperlink I had tweeted, and started hitting buttons. She kept asking me “But how did I do that?” I don’t know Mom. I just know somehow you did.

Once she thought about the situation, she cracked up. “Oh honey,” she said in between laughs, “I’m sorry. Tell him,” more laughter “it was completely unintentional.” laughs.

Sigh. Parents and technology.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree.

This post is really less about my trip to Toronto and more about how I am absolutely my mother's daughter.

Toronto is great. We spent Saturday wondering around the city, eating brunch, checking out hip furniture stores, drinking the best latte I've ever had... Anyways, we come to the Drake Hotel, where they are having a flea market/yard sale including selling things that used to be in the hotel, and are no longer being used. Among these items was a very cool chain-mail curtain. Precisely saw it first, and we both agreed that it would look fantastic in la loft separating the dining area from the living area, or something. I love a good yard sale bargaining session, so I tracked down the guys who were selling it.

They offered it to me for $20, which is awesome, and I was all excitedly ready to take it, when the Lady of Leisure reminded me that we did drive here, in her car, which is a small hatchback.

I've grown up with very resourceful DYI parents. My mother especially, has a penchant for finding "treasures", at yard sales, at flea markets, and in the trash. Usually, she can fix these finds up nicely. I have a chair in my room that she found curbside before I moved to Pittsburgh. We painted it, and gave it new cushions, and it's lovely.

My mother is very good about fitting these "treasures" into vehicles and transporting them home. Sometimes though, she has had to convince my father that rescuing these pieces of furniture is a good idea. Luckily, her persistence, is apparently hereditary.

When the question of transporting the curtain back to the States came up, I found myself making the arguments I've heard my mother make a thousand times. "Oh, it will fit, no problem! We'll make room. The suitcases can sit in the back with me, and we'll put it in the trunk. I'll carry it, I'll take it in a cab now. It will be great."

And just like that, I found myself walking down the streets of Toronto with a chainmail curtain slung over my shoulder.

At one point, I was stopped by a man in an SVU. "Where did you get that wonderful object?" He asked. I told him, and assured him that they did indeed have another one, and he sped off, presumably to go get his own chain maille curtain.

The day of our departure arrived, and the curtain coiled up in the trunk, with me and the luggage sitting in the back. We get to border control, hand over our passports, take off our sunglasses, and answer the questions of how we know one another, what we were doing in Canada, how long we were there, etc.

"Are you bringing anything back?" asked the border patrol official? "Did you purchase anything while you were there?"

The Lady of Leisure looks in her rearview mirror before responding, "Just this chain maille curtain."

He pauses for a second before shaking his head and saying "Move along."

So now, the chain maille curtain is home, and I just need to figure out how to hang it. Listen up Pittsburgh. I'm going to have an actual Steel Curtain in my home. THAT's how devoted a Steeler fan I am.