tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88744497118712758862024-03-13T11:14:21.957-07:00Sweet Tea & MoxieKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-74687504654523061332010-07-20T20:23:00.000-07:002010-07-20T20:55:12.802-07:00I'm 25, and I live with my parents...I promise I'm not a loser!Most newly graduated master's degree students would balk at the idea of moving back in with their parents, but that's exactly what I've done. I graduated in May with a master's degree in historic preservation. <br /><br />The past two years have been filled with wonderful experiences in new places and lifelong friends. I moved away from home to go to grad school...almost 9 hours to be exact (which was pretty far for me). I thought when I graduated that I was destined to settle somewhere other than my hometown. <br /><br />The prospect of getting a job in the field of preservation was just not something I considered to be an option where I'm from. During some preliminary job hunting in January, I found a job on PreserveNet.com to be an Architectural Historian in my hometown. What are the odds? A lengthy interview process ensued, and I was eventually offered the job. <br /><br />As I neared the end of my schooling, I began to feel more and more drawn home. I almost thought something was wrong with me that I didn't want to stay where I was (which was a beautiful city filled with some of the most fantastic historic buildings you've ever seen) or go somewhere even more exotic. I felt the need to be closer to home. I have a wonderful relationship with my family and have never wanted to be far away from them. But as a young, single woman, I thought I should "spread my wings" so to speak, and go wherever I wanted to go while I wasn't tied down to anybody or anything.<br /><br />My decision to accept this job wasn't terribly difficult, but being the indecisive creature that I am, I had a few sleepless nights trying to choose between this job and another potential job opportunity that was "right up my alley" and was located in the town where I was already living.<br /><br />In the end, the job in my hometown won out and I am happy to be here. I enjoy spending time with my parents, sister and her husband....and of course my new baby nephew. I didn't want to be an absentee aunt and I LOVE getting to see him regularly.<br /><br />My family suffered the loss of a loved one recently, and I know that my being home is exactly where I'm supposed to be. It is amazing how things work out.<br /><br />Now, for those of you who scoff at me living with parents, to you I say: Pay off my student loans and help me find an apartment or house, then we'll talk. I get along with my parents extremely well, and they give me plenty of space and a place to live while I save money so I can make a dent in my student loan payments. <br /><br />After I told one of my coworkers where I lived, she said, "Just don't make it a habit." I thought that was really funny. I suppose the concept is probably foreign to most people, but I don't plan on living with them forever. It's just nice to be able to come home not only to spend time with my family, but also get well on my way to paying off loans and saving some money for my own place. <br /><br />They say you can't go home again, but I say if you're family is willing and able to have you back, then it is okay to take advantage of that gracious offer in order to establish yourself for the future.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-71601164299553927602010-03-27T07:42:00.000-07:002010-03-27T09:03:02.379-07:00"Adult" is not a synonym for common senseLast night, I volunteered as a docent for a downtown tour of homes that invovled standing in a room for three hours saying the same thing every three minutes or so. I'm not complaining about that, exactly, because I really do enjoy it. Standing on your feet for three hours straight isn't terribly comfortable, but I have such a good time talking to people as they walk through the house that it's worth a little foot pain.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 196px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453342245136927394" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S64p4QAEiqI/AAAAAAAAANg/bpBXSY68AdQ/s320/charleston-battery-houses-blog.jpg" /><br /><div><div><div><div>But you would think that some of these people were raised by idiots...which in some cases is probably true. The houses on the tours are private homes that people have graciously opened to the public, and you would think that people would respect that, but that's not always the case.</div><br /><div>I didn't have anybody try to touch anything last night, but I did a tour last fall where this woman actually opened an old cutlery box when my back was turned. She almost dropped the lid when I turned around to give her the stink eye. Are you kidding me? What would possess you to touch something in a person's private home when you are on a tour? And 9 times out of 10, the culprit is an adult. I rarely see small children on these tours, so that leaves imbecilic adults who don't know how to behave themselves.</div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 176px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 219px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453337499618615202" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S64lkBkVn6I/AAAAAAAAANQ/pdBh6Sz-gNA/s320/stupid_people_smiley.jpg" />In addition to sticky fingers, I also get a lot of arrogant know-it-alls who like to interrupt/correct me when they think they know more than I do. I will admit it when I don't know something for certain, but I hate being interrupted. I had a man last night who I had to use my "teacher stare" on to get him to stop talking so I could begin the tour. After that, he interrupted me three times. Hello?! Use manners much? I am not a genius, but I do know a few things about old buildings and I never say things that are inaccurate.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453330807840986594" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S64fegwOVeI/AAAAAAAAANA/5giTxZhLZio/s320/interrupt.jpg" /></div><div>This just reinforces my belief that just because you're an adult does not mean that you are a professional, considerate person. When you're a kid, all adults seem so cool and sophisticated and always know the right thing to do and say. Now I know that is not always the case.<br /><br />Oh well, maybe I'll just bring a cattle prod and perfect my disapproving glare to encourage people to keep their grubby hands off people's personal property and keep their unwanted opinions to themselves.</div></div></div></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-2344553947462983112010-03-25T22:26:00.000-07:002010-03-25T22:54:25.412-07:00Is it possible to have too much free time?<div align="left">I realize that it has been some time since my last post. All I can say is that my thesis is done and I couldn't be happier. However, rather than having no time for myself during thesis, I now find that I have what I would call copious amounts of free time. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I'm not bragging to you hardworking folk out there, but I really don't know what to do with myself. I am in danger of becoming one of those people you hear about on the news whose bodies have conformed to whatever seating apparatus they can't seem to leave. Oddly enough, my choice of seating is a small love seat that does not instill love when there are two occupants sitting on it. All that can be said for it is that it should be thankful slip covers were invented because otherwise its country plaid self would be out on the street. </div><div align="left"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452814755269588098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 254px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S6xKITHaNII/AAAAAAAAAMw/ZgDHYHNmEN4/s320/loveseat.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="left"> OK, it's not this bad, but it's getting there.<br /><br /><br />But, watching T.V. in my room for hours at night is quickly losing its appeal. Don't get me wrong, I am a threat to be a couch potato (my parents can attest to this), and watching the six episodes of Family Guy that come on three different channels every night is great, but I think I need to get some better evening hobbies.<br /><br />My days are filled with pleasant bike rides to class and trips to the beach. I even got to do a little woodworking in my lab class today with a wonderful gentleman who taught us how to do wood inlay. My career as a carpenter ended when I saw the power tools, but the finished product is gorgeous.<br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452814595968417730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 262px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S6xJ_BrDP8I/AAAAAAAAAMo/PwQflbSwQp0/s320/hum-copy.gif" border="0" /><br />So, my paints and easel are sitting in the corner of my room. I should break them out and do some painting....perhaps on my piazza. Yes, I have french doors in my room that lead onto a second-story piazza. It's quite nice, but I'll have to lace the threshold with roach killer or I'll be covered in the nasty little creepers while I sleep. Eek!<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452814309670347906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S6xJuXIRZII/AAAAAAAAAMg/WZYFwbPEMXU/s320/paintingporch.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>Here's to not squandering the free time I've complained about not having for the past three months!</p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-49187789046297640852010-02-21T13:24:00.000-08:002010-02-27T07:43:23.056-08:00Reading is a solitary pastime...I just want to say that I hate it when people interrupt me when I'm reading. I am obviously doing something, so anything more than a comment or two is rude. Part of the fun of reading is getting imersed in the story and I can't do that if people keep interrupting me.<br /><br />For example, I sit around a lot at my part-time job so I get to read when we're not busy. On one such non-busy day, I was reading in the seclusion of the gift shop when one of my coworkers kept coming in and talking to me. I don't mean to be rude, but why is it that some people cannot pick up on social cues? If I talk to someone and all they respond with is "uh huhs" and "yeahs" I just leave them alone. However, this chick did not bring her own book to read, so she preceded to walk through our book section commenting on all the ones she wanted to buy.<br /><br />I try not to be too curmudgeony, but when I'm doing solitary activities, I like to be left alone. I come from a family of loners so I suppose I inherited it from my parents. Don't get me wrong, we are very chatty and social most of the time, and my family will attest to the fact that I talk a lot, but we all enjoy our alone time.<br /><br /><br />So, if you ever see me reading, and I don't respond to your comments with much enthusiasm, take that as a gentle social cue that I want to be left alone.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442946939479711266" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S4k7Z0r83iI/AAAAAAAAAMY/19VDnUnZA2Y/s320/reading01.jpg" />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-64047111072908378412010-02-21T11:18:00.000-08:002010-02-21T12:20:51.643-08:00Hooray for Sunny Winters!<div align="left">It is 65 and sunny today, and I am in a great mood. I have a thesis to worry about, and the prospect of graduation and job hunting before me, but I feel great. And I think part of that is due to the spectacular weather.</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">I went to a hockey game last night with some friends. It was cold outside, but not <em>cold </em>cold. It was the nippy cold that you get living in the south, minus the snow. I told one of my classmates who is from Pennsylvania that our long walk from the car to the arena would have been utterly miserable if we had to trudge through snow and slush. She just laughed and said "Oh, Kate." But I'm seriously reconsidering my vow to apply to jobs "anywhere" because after looking at the mountains of snow people in northern regions have to deal with, I'm not so sure I could make it.</div><div align="left"><br /> </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440793049045260258" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S4GUc5jB1-I/AAAAAAAAAMI/YQvbN8B3lac/s320/0206-snowstorm_cars1.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 216px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440792919167361090" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S4GUVVtuYEI/AAAAAAAAAMA/64XrJDf0Yj0/s320/snowstorm.jpg" /> <p align="center"><br />This would not be okay with me.<br /></p><p align="left"><br />Snow is beautiful....for a couple of days. But to live in it for weeks and months at a time seems like such an inconvenience. I realize getting snow in the south is different because we are completely inept at driving in it, and everyone freaks out and buys up all the milk and bread. We only freak out because we are so not accustomed to being stuck in our homes for days without electricity and water. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 142px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 106px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440792710747846914" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S4GUJNSo-QI/AAAAAAAAAL4/TU03An0bVoo/s320/images.jpg" /></p><p align="left">We got exactly one night of beautiful snow a week ago, about 2 or 3 inches, and it was perfect. The bright, warm sun melted the snow away the next day and everyone was able to go about their business.<br /><br />I know I'd probably get used to it if I lived in a snowy area for a couple of years, but I don't know if I want to. The Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is listed as a legitimate disorder on the Mayo Clinic's website.....no thank you! I'd miss my gorgeous sunny days and 65 degree weather too much.<br /></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 169px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440792521970524210" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S4GT-OCnoDI/AAAAAAAAALw/v-pQkiByjXw/s320/Sullivans%2520Island%2520View-1.jpg" />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-26184940047647153482010-02-07T11:53:00.000-08:002010-02-13T09:09:40.877-08:00Miss TessI meant to write about this last week, but as usual the procrastination monster got the better of me. But I said I'd write about it, so here we go. I mentioned Miss Tess in an earlier post. She is an absolutely fabulous jazz singer that my friend heard about. When she told me Miss Tess would be performing in our fair city I was so very excited. The concert was free which was an added bonus.<br /><br /><div><div><br /></div><div>The concert was on a Monday night at an out of the way venue, so I didn't really expect it to be crowded. However, we got there about 45 minutes early just in case. When we walked into the bar, we were a little stunned because there were only about five people there. I thought that a little odd, but figured more would come later. </div><div><br /></div><div>Well, when Miss Tess and the Bon Ton Parade (her band) took the stage, there might have been 15 people there not counting my group. Not crazy exciting, but the minute Miss Tess started to sing, I was hooked. She has this absolutely flawless voice. I am always impressed when I go see musicians and they sound exactly like they do on a CD. Her songs range from playful to soulful and I was tappin' and swayin' to them all. She has a quirky look with short curly hair and glasses and subtle retro clothing. I liked how she let her music be the focal point rather than tarting it up with flashing makeup and clothes.</div><div><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 236px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437776147899193458" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S3bcmI-fmHI/AAAAAAAAALo/k7u3gvZYoCA/s320/miss_tess_band_2_(small)_resized.jpg" /><br /><div>In addition to the awesome music, my friends and I also had some interesting characters to watch. Since the place was pretty empty, there was a lot of floor space. People weren't dancing much, but we did have this guy who I'm pretty sure was high on something hopping up and down and fluttering his hands by himself in the middle of the dance floor. There was also this girl who rolled up her shirt and displayed her stomach in indecently low-rider jeans. She even got into a push-up contest with a guy. Yeah, that's how much unused floor space was available.</div><br /><br /><div>There was also this older guy sitting at the bar. He apparently got hungry at some point and went out to his car to bring in a bag of unopened chips. As the numbers dwindled down to less than ten, I guess he felt more comfortable speaking up. When Miss Tess said the song they were about to play was a little dark, this guy responded: "That's okay, we like dark songs here in Charleston."<br /></div><br /><div>Probably my favorite character was this guy who we think was probably high on some serious drugs who danced around the room by himself, fluttering his hands at his sides. He had some interesting moves to say the least.</div><br /><br /><div>Aside from the odd group of people, the Miss Tess concert was wonderful. I recommend going to see her if you can. Check out her website to see her upcoming tour dates and listen to her music.</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437775562086643730" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S3bcECp5eBI/AAAAAAAAALg/u0r4KXkupnU/s320/MissTess04done.jpg" /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://www.misstessmusic.com/">http://www.misstessmusic.com/</a></div></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-79543052536789576542010-01-30T08:06:00.000-08:002010-01-30T08:54:51.386-08:00A Lady Gaga Flash Mob?So, as I was walking home from class yesterday around 5pm, I noticed several people with what I would describe as Cirque du Soleil-esque costumes on. As I got closer to the city square, I began seeing more and more people dressed in weird outfits. When I got to the corner of an intersection, I asked a girl next to me what was going on. She said it was some kind of dance thing to Lady Gaga music....hmmmm?<br /><div align="center"><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432576108491881730" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S2RjMAnuvQI/AAAAAAAAAKA/YV6ddOScg7I/s320/gaga3.jpg" />This is the girl I saw!!!<br /><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"> </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432575976106474098" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S2RjETclunI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/prHyvPx6hI8/s320/gaga4.jpg" /> <p align="center">Becky and Steph...This one's for you!!!<br /></p><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432575835302664610" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S2Ri8G6WGaI/AAAAAAAAAJw/BrpJHrjnPx4/s320/gaga6.jpg" /><br />As I walked by the huge crowd, I saw people holding up camera phones dancing to "Bad Romance." There was even a radio station van there too. The further I went down the street to get home, I saw droves of girls laughing and dancing in the opposite direction wearing leotards and tights with blond wigs and garish makeup. I felt like I was in one of those disaster movies where you see the main characters in the lone car driving back into a doomed city while the other side of the interstate is in gridlock trying to get out.<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432575020705513890" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S2RiMsTQAaI/AAAAAAAAAJo/IvH9LTyZnVE/s320/gaga5.jpg" /><br />Curious, I looked up the cause of this flash mob and it turns out it was a big Facebook thing that had 2,000 people RSVP to come to the city square and have an impromtu dance party with a Lady Gaga theme. It only lasted for 30 minutes, but they apparently raised thousands of dollars for the Red Cross for Haiti relief in tins surrounding the dance-off.<br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432574827700376418" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S2RiBdTPU2I/AAAAAAAAAJg/yWD34YTRt2g/s320/gag2.jpg" /></p>I may not be the biggest Lady Gaga fan, but I thought this was awesome. Even though the weather was dreary and rainy, young people were out having a good time and donating money for a good cause.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-84300327540226880382010-01-21T21:54:00.000-08:002010-01-21T22:25:54.418-08:00Procrastination and Smooth JazzThe last week or so I have been so apathetic towards school work. Okay, I realize a lot of people are that way, but I seriously feel content to sit around and read a book or watch TV (finding new shows to watch on Hulu is beginning to be a problem) when I should really be working on my thesis. When I discuss this lack of motivation with my roommate, I can see the some of the same attitude in her demeanor. Although, I seem to be doing a lot more sighing than she does and I think I might be developing a lazy eye. Well, she is a self-described "thesis machine" which I have a hard time competing with. <div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429445872822646418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 332px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 293px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S1lEQUDN9pI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/uRq_nwO4eKs/s320/procrastination.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>I have a meeting with my advisor tomorrow. I feel confident that I'm getting work done, but I will say that I'm not exactly enjoying it. I think I would get way more experience if I could take more classes rather than spend so much time putting together such a specific project. Oh well, most graduate programs require a thesis, so I'm not holding out hope that this will ever change.</div><br /><div>On the up side of my week: I've started a new station for myself on Pandora that's becoming something of an obsession...plus it really helps me focus when I'm writing because the songs are soothing and I don't know any of the lyrics. I don't know about you, but I can't write if I'm going to feel compelled to sing along to the music. For example, I LOVE the Glee soundtracks (Vol. 1 and 2), but I could never listen to them when I'm writing. How could I <em>not</em> sing along to Lea Michelle singing "Don't Rain on My Parade"? </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429445730770776578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 163px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S1lEIC3acgI/AAAAAAAAAJI/nLisk-dW_5I/s320/s1e13_parade.jpg" border="0" /> </div><div>My previously mentioned roommate's new beau told her about this great female jazz singer called Miss Tess. When I listened to her, I loved her music! And with her stuff as a base for my Pandora station, I can honestly say I like just about everything that comes up under this genre...Ella Fitzgerald, Diana Krall, Sophie Milman, etc. Check her out and you'll immediately feel like drinking some coffee or doing a little slow dance with your sweetheart.<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429445557209631842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S1lD98TNjGI/AAAAAAAAAJA/1-C_S3CaRGs/s320/misstess.jpg" border="0" /></p></div><br /><p align="center">Isn't she adorable?!</p>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-15962715832182458262010-01-16T12:32:00.000-08:002010-01-30T09:38:28.558-08:00Why aren't I working on my thesis right now?<div align="left">I find it interesting that after going months without writing a single blog post, I have now written three in one sitting. I am in front of my computer at my part-time job as a docent/shop worker at a historic house museum. I obviously have access to a computer, so I should be working on my thesis, but we've been busy....and, well, I'm just being lazy. Blame it on the rain, I guess.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427453304325827762" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S1IwBj9cbLI/AAAAAAAAAI4/MBTks68Ola8/s320/rainy_day1.jpg" /><br />This day was almost like any other day: the computer didn't work and my over-60 co-workers' suggestion was to hit the ENTER key until things straightened out actually worked. And as usual, droves of visitors came in just as I was trying to eat my lunch (I don't get a real lunch break). But today, something magical happened. A group of 10 (give or take - I was a little dazed) attractive male architecture students came in with pencils and sketchbooks in hand. This may not seem like much, but when the only people you see for an eight-hour shift are either on their honeymoon or members of AARP, the sight of an attractive, appropriately aged male is something beautiful to behold. Plus, the fact that they were architecture students made my little historic preservationist heart go pitty pat.<br /><br />I probably sounded like an idiot when I told one of them not to worry that he forgot his ticket because I had heard their group was coming. The truth is that one of my classmates works at a sister house museum they had visited the day before and mentioned this group of guys might visit the next day. Trying to be charming, I told him that whenever people under 50 come visit the house, it's something we can't help but mention to each other. Thankfully, he laughed which hopefully is a good indication he didn't think I was creepy.<br /><br />The lack of eligible men in my city is appalling. I won't say where I live because I love this city with all of its charm and elegance, but it seems like the only people that I see regularly are tourists, honeymooners, old people and spoiled college students. The "men" that live here tend to be over-grown frat boys that wear short khaki shorts and either work as bartenders or at a job their daddies got for them.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427453161208995778" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S1Iv5Ozu38I/AAAAAAAAAIw/1Kb85am9ABE/s320/TheSartorialist_Shortshorts.jpg" /> <p align="center">OK, maybe not <em>that</em> short, but you get the picture.<br /><br /></p>I have had the most amazing time living here, but as my gorgeous, intelligent, funny...and single...female classmates have said time and time again: If any of us are ever going to find a <em>man</em> (no boys, please) then we have got to get away from here. Lucky for me graduation is coming up and I need to get a job. I have a promising possibility in the town where I was born...so I pray that God will guide me to the place I need to be.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-54208086251614026332010-01-16T11:22:00.000-08:002010-01-16T12:02:15.116-08:00Furry coats and battery powered socks...So, it's winter time and therefore it's cold. I realize it's not as cold in living in the south as opposed to other places, but to me it's still dang cold. It's times like these that I wish I had the guts to wear a fur coat. There are women in the city where I live that find no problem breaking out the fur, but I feel a little odd wearing fur when I live twenty minutes from the ocean. I don't know, maybe I need to move past my reservations and prejudices and go for it. I probably won't because I have plenty of coats....and I'm poor. But I will say a fur lined coat would have looked sweet when I went to Vermont for spring break last year. <div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 287px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427430324995170306" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S1IbH_SFIAI/AAAAAAAAAIo/1_F63tFaPKc/s320/blue.jpg" /><br /><div>I also want to investigate an intriguing product my friend Julie mentioned her father bought her mother last year: battery powered socks! I have the worst blood circulation (my friend who is in med school said it was either diabetes or bad blood circulation...I'm going with the second one) and my feet and hands are almost constantly ice-cold during the winter. It is incredibly uncomfortable, so I'm always looking for new ways to keep them warm. These socks have their own thermostat and last for 12 hours! I doubt that I would be wearing them that long, but holy cow! This may the answer to all my cold feet woes. Even though I've already invested in a space heater for my room, I'm thinking a belated Christmas 2009 present to myself is in order.</div><br /><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 231px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427430168328513042" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S1Ia-3p1phI/AAAAAAAAAIg/3H7_uwZ7eHw/s320/heated-socks.jpg" /><br /><br /><div>I realize my desire to live in a place where it is appropriate to where fur coats is at odds with my icy extremities, but hopefully I can find a way to make it all work.</div></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-77681614611401579522010-01-16T08:33:00.000-08:002010-01-16T11:21:44.218-08:00Things I don't like but wish I did...Do you ever look at something you can't stand and wish you liked it? I have a long list of dislikes that range from food to outdoor sports. My family and friends are constantly chastising me for saying "I don't like (fill in the blank)" I don't mean to be negative, but in the words of Jill Scott "I'm gon' be who I be." <div><div><br /></div><div align="left">So, here a the list of twenty things I don't like but wish I did (in no particular order):<br /></div><div align="center">1. guacomole<br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 249px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427401807229132818" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S1IBMCU0oBI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/ACMQ7nKVy_0/s320/guacamole_healthy_recipe_cinco_de_mayo.jpg" /><br /><div align="center">2. running</div><br /><div align="center">3. pickles</div><br /><div align="center">4. water skiiing</div><br /><div align="center">5. hummus</div><br /><div align="center">6. black coffee</div><br /><div align="center">7. speed dating</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427401610861024018" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S1IBAmzBExI/AAAAAAAAAII/qhZGDcyCoSs/s320/speed_dating.jpg" /><br /><div align="center">8. rock climbing</div><br /><div align="center">9. orange juice<br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">10. working out</div></div><div></div><div><br /><div align="center">11. reading classic books</div><br /><div align="center">12. yogurt</div><br /><div align="center">13. snow skiing</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 262px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427401372958775506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S1IAywis2NI/AAAAAAAAAIA/F1uMPiiMIZA/s320/12022.jpg" /></div><div align="center">14. pictures of outer space and underwater creatures (I refuse to show a picture of these because they freak me out)</div><br /><div align="center">15. grits</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">16. breakfast food<br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">17. fast food breakfast</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 204px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 203px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427399311908143298" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/S1H-6yh8AMI/AAAAAAAAAH4/PwG4DvkfdNk/s320/4-carb-scrambler.jpg" /> <div align="center">18. olives</div><br /><div align="center">19. cottage cheese</div><br /><div align="center">20. sushi</div><br /><div></div></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-31656792936239505372009-09-19T20:18:00.001-07:002009-09-19T20:58:01.787-07:00Shirt Dresses: A Wise Decision? I think not...I live in a southern city along the Atlantic coast. Because of its proximity to the water, I believe it is okay for women to get away with wearing clothes that are similar to what most people would call "beach wear." However, there is one particular item of clothing that has become popular especially within the female population of our local college. It is the "shirt dress" and it's widespread use has reached epidemic proportions. I don't know where it came from, and I don't really care, but it needs to go.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SrWlm5S0vUI/AAAAAAAAAHc/qNEw2CsTUk0/s1600-h/Vince+Laundered+Cotton+Shirt+Dress.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 165px; height: 186px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SrWlm5S0vUI/AAAAAAAAAHc/qNEw2CsTUk0/s320/Vince+Laundered+Cotton+Shirt+Dress.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383391017224682818" border="0" /></a>I'm not even kidding, I've seen girls wearing shirts like the one on the right with Ugg boots and no pants...bleh!<br /></div><br />This doesn't mean that I poo-poo on girls who want to showcase their legs. If you've got it, flaunt it...but please please please do it tastefully. It has almost become a spectator sport for my friends and I whenever we walk around downtown to see these girls who obviously looked in the mirror that morning and thought: Can I get away with wearing no pants? And their answer to that loaded question was a big YES! Thankfully, once the weather starts getting cooler (which doesn't happen till late October around here) the girls will start pairing those "dresses" with leggings or tights.<br /><br />Please note that I put quotations around "dresses" because in my opinion, these items are <span style="font-style: italic;">shirts</span> and not dresses at all. For proof, I can cite trying on a shirt at Target. Want to know how I knew it was a shirt? Well, for one thing my posterior would have caught quite a considerable breeze without britches, and lo and behold, the darn tag said "t-shirt" plain as day. Not a week later, I'm at a concert and I see a girl wearing that same shirt as a dress. Now, her body was great, but the combination of heavy drinking and stripper shoes really took away the legitimacy of her outfit as a dress. And here's an example of the ever-skanky lingerie dress:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SrWlcSfPavI/AAAAAAAAAHU/nNVwzG2eknk/s1600-h/shirtordressorlingerie.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 196px; height: 196px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SrWlcSfPavI/AAAAAAAAAHU/nNVwzG2eknk/s320/shirtordressorlingerie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383390835009088242" border="0" /></a>Keep it in the bedroom darlin'<br /></div><br />So, ladies, my point is that you can be sexy without showing everyone your business. Try for a little mystery. And I realize men reading this will probably disagree, but too much leg says trashy, not high fashion. And I can't see how constantly worrying about a rogue breeze lifting your skirt up on a windy day is a good thing.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SrWlCNUQO0I/AAAAAAAAAHM/D6eqGXQ1Mmw/s1600-h/pink+shirt+2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SrWlCNUQO0I/AAAAAAAAAHM/D6eqGXQ1Mmw/s320/pink+shirt+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383390386944228162" border="0" /></a>What's better than a shirt dress? A shirt dress dancing on a table at a bar!<br /></div><br />Unfortunately for me, the girls at this college spend more time shopping than they do reading, so I don't know if I will ever see an end to this trend. But for the rest of you, perhaps there is hope.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-77004292658803771382009-07-05T20:16:00.001-07:002009-07-05T20:51:47.162-07:00The meanderings of a hapless idiot...One of my classmates who is away for the summer came to visit a week ago. She brought her younger sister, and we had a lot of fun hanging out at the beach and driving out to the internship work site of three of our classmates. I consider myself to be a very confident and capable person, but some things I did on each of the days I hung out with my visiting friend makes me wonder...<br /><br />DAY 1<br /><br />On our way to the beach, we stopped at Publix to pick up some sandwiches. While in line, we girls were chatting it up. I carry a big purse which has been known to knock into things. (I'm talking specifically about the time I knocked over and broke a wine class at a student/faculty party with same said purse) Apparently this was one such occasion. As I turned, I heard three or four thuds behind me. I figured I knocked a few boxes of a shelf or something, but no. I turn around and see that I have knocked several pears into a tall trash can. I know they were pears because there was one left in a bag (the kind you put your produce in) on top of the trash can. I laughed it off, thinking somebody had picked up some pears, then decided not to get them.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355189273188360466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SlF0RV1f4RI/AAAAAAAAAG8/vH3U5oRvsk8/s320/pears.jpg" border="0" /><br />Not two minutes later, this lady comes over with a sandwich in hand and walks right up to the trash can. Now, we're still in line, so I'm right next to her. She picks up the lone pear and looks at her friend and says "Somebody stole my pears." I love my friend, but she has a tendency to laugh too loud in the wrong situations, and I could feel my ears turning red in embarrassment. We snickered...not maliciously....as the lady's friend deduced they had been knocked into the trash can.<br /><br />I suppose a considerate person would have told her what really happened to the pears, but I just couldn't do it. What was I supposed to say? "Um, sorry...I dumped your pears in the trash can and left them there?" I don't think so. If we had been somewhere else, I probably would have said something, but we were at a grocery store, so she could go get some more pears. But, that ended up being a moot point because she just reached right on in and retrieved the pears! I know we all wash our produce before we eat it, but I sincerely hope what I buy hasn't been sitting in a trash can.<br /><br /><br /><br />DAY 2<br /><br />The next day, we drove out to the where our classmates have been working on restoring historic windows at a plantation. It's a 40-minute drive there one-way, so we settled into our trip. I was driving because my friend's car's check engine light had come on. OK, I know you're thinking my bad luck with technology rubbed off on her car, but I'm hoping that wasn't the case.<br /><br />About 20 minutes into the trip, I see a blue thing in the middle of my lane on the interstate. I thought it was a bag or something, but there were cars on either side of me so I couldn't change lanes to go around it. All of a sudden, I hear a dull thud and scraping noise. We've been hit! It took me about .2 seconds to realize that we were dragging something under my car. I immediately pull over, put my hazards on, and get out to check on the damage. I'm always nervous stopping the side of the interstate, but there was no way I could keep driving with that thing under my car. So there I am, kneeling beside my car in 95 degree heat and what do I see? Oh, well, there's a blue plastic milk crate (see picture below) stuck to the bottom of my Jeep. And by stuck, I mean it's lodged under the car without touching the ground. (This brings to mind the time I was on my way to the beach at night with friends and we hit a bat which got stuck spread-eagle in the front grill....at least the plastic crate wasn't alive)<br /><br />I think it didn't do as much damage since it had already been hit a few times and was pretty bent out of shape. After my friend and I push and pull on it, the thing finally comes loose and I throw it into the ditch by the road. I figure it's not littering if it was already there. Besides, I was doing people a service by getting it out of the road.<br /><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355186259362230258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SlFxh6dWr_I/AAAAAAAAAG0/pPFsslLwm4o/s320/499811810_ffacc4f823.jpg" border="0" /></p><br />These are just a few things that go against my self-vision as a competent and contributing member of society. I really do mean well, but I suppose we all have our own idiot-moments now again. Let me know about yours....maybe they'll make me feel better.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-76813234896761125492009-07-05T19:46:00.000-07:002009-07-05T20:15:57.615-07:00The Technology Angel of Death Strikes Again!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355180465085703826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SlFsQpGLZpI/AAAAAAAAAGs/TSDbWW59XBo/s320/Angel_of_Death.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>OK, so my very first post explained my abismal relationship with technology. I joke about it, but sometimes I wonder if I'm cursed. I manage to kill things without even trying. You may think I'm overreacting, but let's see what you think after I tell you about my most recent technology woes.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Exhibit A: My mostly new camera is the biggest battery whore I've ever seen. I got a really nice camera when I began graduate school since we take a lot of pictures of architecture and interiors, so we need a good zoom. When taking pictures to document a plantation and its outbuildings, I discovered that the camera would take about 5-10 pictures before dying. I bought an 8-pack of AA batteries and used them all over the span of about 3 hours. It still works, but I can only wonder what the problem is.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Exhibit B: I live near the beach, so I've been trying to visit it as much as I can while class is out for the summer. On one such occasion, I stopped at Taco Bell for some lunch on my way over. I don't eat fast food often, but I get a craving every once in a while. I also got a drink which I stupidly put in my beach bag. Naturally, it spills and I have a bad feeling that my iPod became yet another casualty. It isn't broken, but some of the songs started skipping. So, I took the advice of some friends who have had experiences with submerged cell phones and left it alone for a few days to make sure it dries out completely. I'm still too nervous to turn it on.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Exhibit C: The most frustrating thing so far has been my car. I drive a 2002 Jeep and even though it was bought used, it's been an excellent car with very few problems. However, I am getting ready to take the dang thing back in to the car dealership for the third time in less than a month. The first problem was a rear window that wouldn't go up and down with the switch anymore. All I did was try to let a moth out and the thing craps out on me. I got to pay the men at the dealership a $60 service fee to hook something that had become unhooked. They found multiple other things to fix....of course....and I paid them another $85 to get my check engine light to go off. And when I got back in my car to leave, guess what? The check engine light is still on! By then end of it all I've paid them another $115 to fix it and I feel like I've been had. I know I'm a girl who doesn't know anything about cars, but it's not fair that I have to go into a car place and feel like I'm being swindled. Egh! To make matters worse, my car is now sporting it's own personal jet engine rumbling noise complete with the smell of burnt rubber whenever I drive somewhere. So now I'm getting ready to take it in for a third time. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>My lack of success with all things technological and mechanical is very frustrating to me. I know so little about most of it that I am completely stranded when something goes wrong. My dad usually takes care of these things for me. I know that must make me sound pretty useless, but I'll admit that it's nice to let someone else take care of that sort of thing when they're good at it. I completely trust my dad in all things, but he's not here to do this for me. It's hard to appear like you know what your doing when you don't. I suppose I'll find out the damage when I take my car in to the shop tomorrow. Hopefully it can be fixed before I leave town in a week.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And so, my ill-fated relationship with technology continues...</div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-67835519695987514572009-06-17T08:46:00.000-07:002009-06-17T10:50:24.589-07:00"The Hangover" - Definitely worth it!I'll go see just about anything at the movies. I like adventure, comedy, suspense, historical, action, and horror, you name it. So, I enjoy raunchy guy movies just as much as the next person....most of the time. Some of them are so disgusting in their attempts to get a laugh that it just becomes awkward and contrived.<br /><br /><div><div>However, that was not the case with "The Hangover." I don't think I've laughed that hard and continuously through any movie I've ever seen. The casting was spot-on, and they kept the plot moving with hilarious hijinks that were exactly what you'd expect from four guys who'd been slipped roofies during a batchelor weekend in Las Vegas. We girls had man-candy Bradley Cooper to look at while the entire cast was just plain hysterical so I was a happy camper.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348353758750820562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SjkraCN3yNI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ZSX5qO7GS6g/s320/the_hangover01.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div>I definitely recommend this movie...for mature audiences only of course. If you're looking for a good laugh and don't want to waste your money, this movie is a perfect choice.</div><br /><br /><div><strong>Favorite Quotes:</strong><br /><br /></div><div>Phil: Would you please put some pants on? I feel weird having to ask you twice</div><div> </div><div>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div><div> </div><div>Stu: She is wearing my grandmother’s Holocaust ring.<br />Alan: I didn’t know they gave out rings at the Holocaust.</div><div> </div><div>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div><div> </div><div>Alan: Tigers love pepper... they hate cinnamon.<br /></div><div>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div><div> </div><div>Stu: We’re not going to leave a baby in the room. There’s a f***ing tiger in the bathroom.</div><div>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /></div><div> </div><div>Phil: It's Phil, leave a message. But don't text me. It's gay.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-1702968247182270702009-06-10T06:35:00.000-07:002009-06-10T08:01:49.870-07:00Ramblings of a frazzled student...My main task over the next two months will be to write a proposal for my master's thesis. My internship is winding down, and I've been offered a part-time job with a gift shop and house museum that is run by the foundation I am interning with. That, combined with two weddings (one that I'm going to and one that I'm in), makes for a fun and relaxing summer. So why am I worried? Two months is plenty of time, but I have found that when I am not in school, I have a difficult time focusing on school-related things.<br /><br />I can read for hours, hang out at a friend's place, or go to a movie and have a blast, but I have this constant niggling tightness in my stomach thinking about the coming year and how hard it will be. I am not worried because I know that I am a good researcher and writer. I find that I feel this nervousness before I begin every paper I write, and I can say with certainty that my thesis will be the biggest paper I will have written to this date. So, it is understandable to be nervous starting out. I suppose it is mostly the unknown that puts me ill at ease. I have an idea for my thesis, but I still haven't fleshed it out which makes it this abstract idea that's been floating around in my head for several months. However, I am thankful for my calm, easygoing attitude that comes from God because I would surely be a bundle of exposed nerves without Him.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345713606049261122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/Si_KM6-J5kI/AAAAAAAAAFU/N9CdB36OgG4/s200/FrazzledCat.jpg" border="0" /><br />While I love all of my classmates dearly, some of them let their nerves get the better of them and have mini freak-outs around due dates for papers and projects. I am usually able to keep things in perspective, but their nervous energy sometimes rubs off on me. It's like when you've studied all night for a test, then when you come into class on test day and everybody is quizzing each other and doing a last minute scramble through their notes. That may work for some of you, but it definitely does not work for me. When I was in grade school, I had to sit and listen to it, but thankfully now that I'm in graduate school, I can leave the room till time for the test to start. I see no point in making yourself sick over something five minutes before you're to be tested on it. My theory is you'll do as well as you've prepared yourself to do, and after that, you have no control over the situation. I think many people lose sight of that and needlessly worry over things they cannot control.<br /><br />So, when they freak out, I try to calm them and help them put things in perspective. If that doesn't work, I get the heck away from them so I won't get sucked into their black hole of nervousness and worry.<br /><br /><br />As a cathartic experience for myself, I think I'll tell you about my thesis idea if you'll indulge me:<br /><br />Historic preservation is such an interesting and diverse field. By preserving old buildings, we are preserving our history and culture. Winston Churchill said "We shape our buildings; thereafter, our buildings shape us." In addition to preserving our culture, historic preservation is also complimentary with sustainability and adaptive reuse of buildings.<br /><br />Many of the historic preservation pioneers are dying out, and I wonder if newer generations will have the same love and reverence for historic buildings as those who came before them. The city where I live used to have families who had been living in their historic homes for generations. They had blood ties to these buildings that indoctrinated them to preserve their history. However, the dynamics of the city are changing, and more and more downtown homeowners are from other places. Unless they are sensitive to the needs of historic buildings, their loose connection will make them less likely to preserve what is historically significant and their children will not grow up with a respect and knowledge of historic buildings.<br /><br />How can we expect children today to appreciate history and all of its buildings and structures if we do not educate them on the subject? They won't grow up to understand all of the financial, environmental, and social benefits of restoring downtown areas and adaptively reusing a building rather than tearing it down for new construction. If young people are not adequately informed on this, then it will be very hard for cities to have continued support for their historic structures.<br /><br />I would like to find a way to get children and young adults excited about historic preservation. I could create educational activities and/or lesson plans for young people to participate in at museums and historic sites as well as in the classroom. I would also research how other historic cities address this issue. The Preservation Resource Center in New Orleans, LA is a good example of an organization that has been successful engaging student interest in preservation.<br /><br />OK, so that is just a start, but I think it is an issue that is relevant and important for the preservation of our historic structures. Thanks for listening to my ramblings!Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-6338151200510712162009-06-03T07:08:00.000-07:002009-06-03T08:03:53.202-07:00'Grab your torch and pitchfork!' -ShrekAs part of my internship, I sometimes attend city zoning meetings. Being an intern, I don't actively participate in the proceedings, but it is a learning experience to see how zoning ordinances and variances are handled in a historic city. Most of the time, it's rather boring, but last night....well, let me just tell you about last night.<br /><div></div><br /><div>Without going into too many specifics, let's just say a neighborhood association got their panties in a twist because a business was requesting that the zoning for a building in the neighborhood be changed from residential to office use. The building was never used as a residence in its almost 100 year existence. Despite the fact that there are other commercial buildings sprinkled throughout the neighborhood, this particular business was not receiving a warm welcome. Some neighbors wanted to turn the building into a residence, but its open interior layout is ideal for an office/studio space.</div><br /><div>Representatives from boths sides of the argument spoke at the meeting. What should have been an open-and-shut case turned into a "Peyton Place" melodrama that lasted for over two hours. I half expected some of the angry neighbors to pull torches and pitchforks out of their designer purses. Since I didn't have to be there, I suppose I could have left. But it was like watching a train wreck, and I had to know the outcome. </div><br /><div></div><div>Early on, the opposers were given a verbal slap on the wrist by one of the board members for rudely grumbling and harumphing too loudly. Keep in mind that 95% of these people are over 50 years old. The lack of maturity and respect displayed was astounding. </div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343116819119070322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 219px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 189px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SiaQcB0B3HI/AAAAAAAAAE8/InJEGILvh8g/s200/angry-mob.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>While there were many hysterical speeches made, perhaps my favorite involved a young-ish man who began crying because he wanted this building to be turned into a residence. Apparently his buddy can't afford living downtown, but might be able to if this building was put on the market. Then they'd be neighbors! Ooooh goody! Now, I consider myself to be a mature and professional adult, but I could not contain my giggles during this pathetic display. I wanted to explain to him that his friend should make more money if he wants to live in this area. Heck, I'd love to live there too, but guess what? I don't have the money so it ain't gonna happen. The city doesn't run a charity for people who can't afford to live in big houses. </div><br /><div>Nobody seemed to care that the historic integrity of this building would be severely compromised if its open interior was chopped up into small rooms for a residential use. I suppose stubborn ignorance is an inevitable thing when working in the field of preservation. Understandably people will look out for themselves and what they want, but it would be nice if they would try to consider what is good for the community as well. Downtown neighborhoods can be enhanced by incorporating small amounts of commercial use. Those who want the honor of living in a historic district need to understand that these neighborhoods have always included commerical buildings, and that diversity is what makes them special. If you want to live in a strictly residential area, move to the suburbs. </div><br /><div>Thankfully, the zoning board sided with the business and allowed for the change from residential to office use. I find it ironic that despite the overwhelming response from the neighborhood, their petulant display worked against rather than for their cause. Perhaps a lesson in brevity and eloquence would have been beneficial to this angry mob. Next time, leave your pitchforks at home.</div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-70996231034408827142009-05-31T21:22:00.000-07:002009-05-31T22:27:46.365-07:00Sostenere Le Arti!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342225094610816498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/SiNla1J0jfI/AAAAAAAAAEc/I4tWqMKptQ4/s200/arts_music.gif" border="0" /><br /><div><div>For two weeks, my city has had a wonderful arts festival that has offered live music, theater, and dance as well as the visual arts. Its a great time for locals and tourists alike to come out and get a good dose of culture. </div><br /><div align="justify">Today, I listened to live bluegrass music while I perused the stalls of vendors selling items such as art, jewelry, handwoven dog leashes, and frozen lemonade. As an artist myself, I was particularly drawn to the variety of local art on display. Some of the pieces were so gorgeous they took my breath away. And some of it made me think I should paint a bit more if people less talented than me are able to charge hundreds of dollars for crappy paintings. I don't say this to be conceited because I know we have all seen bad art being sold at ridiculous prices. For example, I saw animal art being sold at an aquarium last weekend for $45 a painting. They were horrendous, but if that's being taken seriously, one of these days I'm going to go out and buy a cat, dip its feet in paint, and let it run around on a canvas to see what unfolds. </div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify">We all see evidence of our nation's lagging economy in job lay-offs and decreased spending. While I was at the festival today, I overheard one of the vendors on their cellphone saying that there were a lot of tourists walking around, but no one is buying anything. It is a sad fact that the arts are among the first to suffer when money is scarce because they are viewed by many as a luxury rather than a necessity. Personally, I saw many pieces of art that I would be thrilled to put up in my apartment, but I just can't afford it. Graduate school has a way of leeching money away at a scary rate. Although, I have a feeling that I will never be able to afford the $1,000 painting I was lusting after. It is upsetting because I know this annual festival is something that local artists count on to promote their work and make money. I could tell that people were really enjoying themselves and the atmosphere in the park, and I hope that their presence brings a boost to the city's economy that is primarily driven by tourism. </div><br /><div align="justify">I acknowledge that the arts are not necessary for physical survival, but I encourage you to patron them in any way possible. Even if you can't spend a lot of money, go out to your local festivals, craft shows, concerts, theater productions, and art shows whenever possible. You'll be suprised at how much they will enrich your life and get your own creative juices flowing. I have a painting I've been working on for a while now, and the summer has given me some free time to finish it up. I am a notoriously slow artist, but seeing all the beautiful artwork today inspired me to make a goal of finishing it this summer. It is for my sister, so I know she will be glad to hear that. Take advantage of your community's cultural scene and support the arts!</div></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-32153903751178930872009-05-22T07:57:00.000-07:002009-05-22T12:59:54.620-07:00Bedknobs & EscutcheonsI have an internship with a historic foundation this summer and I am thoroughly enjoying it. I get to go on mini field trips several times a week to see the coolest historic buildings (our office is housed in one right along a beautiful harbor!). I feel very lucky to get to work with this organization.<br /><div><div><br /><div>My first thought when I was presented a box full of historic hardware on my first day was: Wow, this is so awesome! My second thought was: Wow, I know absolutely NOTHING about historic hardware. My task was to come up with an itemized list of everything in the box, down to each door knob and rim lock keeper (yeah, it took a while to figure out that one), and also include a comparable price for each item.<br /><br /></div></div><div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338737272658739858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/ShcBQ332QpI/AAAAAAAAADs/Nt9FrR75rKs/s200/DeCostaHardware_May09+(1).JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338737130549600546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/ShcBImeY4SI/AAAAAAAAADk/7n4hMss_g7c/s200/DeCostaHardware_May09.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><div>So, in addition to finding the names of these items, I also had to make an educated guess as to how much they are worth. Thank heaven for the Internet! I honestly don't know how I would have done it otherwise...actually, I do know how: I would have had to go talk to someone knowledgeable about the subject. What a novel idea. I'm not one to shy away from talking to people, but the Internet definitely made things easier. I don't know, maybe Miss Price and the gang could have helped me out.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338739658418266066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 106px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/ShcDbvhPn9I/AAAAAAAAAD0/lYtzomYerMs/s200/BEDKNOBS-15.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>It's suffice to say that once I got the hang of prowling around antique hardware sites (and bugging my co-workers to make them play "Name that thing!"), I really enjoyed myself. I even learned words like "escutcheon" - which is another word for a key hole cover (see picture below). I am finished with the inventory. Although I wouldn't go so far as to say that I would like a hardware historian to look too closely at it, I'm proud with what I came up with.</div><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338736783232005170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/ShcA0Yna9DI/AAAAAAAAADc/7X_SDA-K0rs/s200/Escutcheons.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>Artifacts, while extremely interesting, are not necessarily my main area of interest. I am really excited about re-vamping a house museum tour to be more geared toward children and teenagers. I have a background in education, so I hope to develop this project into a possible thesis. That decision will impact my entire second year of grad school. Wish me luck! </div><br /><br /><br /><div> </div></div></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-14303222665853413972009-05-21T07:59:00.001-07:002009-05-21T08:22:28.800-07:00Reading for FunNow that I'm finished with my first year of graduate school, I finally have some free time to read for fun. All reading is fun, you say? I love history, but not all history-oriented texts are "fun." In fact, many are quite dry. Hence the reason why I need some mind candy to give my overworked brain a rest.<br /><br />I'll be honest and say that my "fun books" lean on the romantic side of the literary spectrum. I would like to say that I spend my free hours reading the classics, but it just isn't so. Bring on the romantic fluff. Unfortunately, many of these novels come packaged with rather embarrassing covers which further the cheesy stigma that comes with this genre. Publishing companies were at some point misinformed that women felt comfortable buying and checking out books with women in heaving bodices and long-haired, half-naked men on the cover (sorry Fabio). For example:<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338296574875479586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 105px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 185px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/ShVwc4sjLiI/AAAAAAAAADU/8MEhbT_oeho/s200/romance1.bmp" border="0" /><br />Here is a popular pose. Please note the title of this book. Absolutely hysterical!<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338296269137703282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 102px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/ShVwLFu-8XI/AAAAAAAAADM/ugQ5cNVJC1s/s200/fabio_haunting_love_stories.gif" border="0" /><br /><div align="center">There are no words. </div><br /><br />Now, riddle me this: Are there any other women out there who find these awkward too? It makes me feel like I'm purchasing inappropriate things from an adult store or something. I actually refuse to buy or check out books with covers like that. For those that do, bookstores and libraries might want to start offering brown paper sacks.<br /><br />Thankfully, not all romance - chick lit have these types of covers. Many modern books are erring on the side of whimsy or simplicity. Perhaps the racy covers are a throwback from former decades. This might explain why many of the women have ridiculously big hair.<br /><br />At any rate, I will continue to read my "fun books" and hold my head high. It's summer, and my brain needs a vacation.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8874449711871275886.post-16866148837750413542009-05-20T10:52:00.000-07:002009-05-20T13:58:11.251-07:00I have a blog now?Wow. I never thought I'd see the day when I would create a blog. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who look down on bloggers, I am just realistic about my technology savvy...or lack thereof. I sometimes refer to myself as the Technology Angel of Death. The term may sound funny, but a bum PC, mortally injured printer, and crashed hard drive have removed most of the humor from the situation.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337999630560742914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 84px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 122px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/ShRiYc69TgI/AAAAAAAAABc/07RvCS7agWg/s200/angel-of-death-756351.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337998661238950546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 145px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 84px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Pd2RRu6JYqs/ShRhgB6oipI/AAAAAAAAABU/3XPG3X8PJ84/s200/RethinkElectronics.jpg" border="0" />I am usually quite optimistic, but my most recent snafoo has got me seriously thinking about my relationship with electronics. A few weeks ago, my relatively new phone decided that it was unecessary for me to hear people when they called me. Naturally, I disagreed, but to no avail. I eventually got a new phone (the Pantech Matrix) with a keyboard. It's taking some getting used to, but I really like it so far.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>As a result of all my unfortunate technological mishaps, I requested an external hard drive for my birthday. My family laments my habitually uncreative birthday and Christmas lists, but hey, losing everything on your computer makes one stop and think, ya know? Even though it is supposedly non-exciting, I was tickled when I received it in the mail. Tickled pink, that is. My dad got me one that is red and pink, and I think it adds some much needed pizazz to the world of gray and black electronics. </div><div><br /></div><div>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div><br /><div>The name of my blog stemmed from several hours of indecisive searching and a supportive email from my sister. I must give a shout-out to her for being my inspiration. She is a writer, so her blogs are always amazingly funny and clever. Born and raised in the South, I try to live by the selfless and thoughtful manners my parents taught me through their actions and words. And while I love sweet tea (those of you who can stomach unsweet tea get a gold star because I just can't do it), I also have a spunky, outgoing personality that allowed me to move to another state and begin a brand new life in graduate school. </div><div><br /></div><div>My life as a graduate student isn't filled with too much excitement, but I am so happy with the way things are going. I am entering my second year of graduate school in historic preservation and I am in love! Yes, old buildings get me going. I love to look at, live in, and preserve them. I hope to help educate people about why preserving and adaptively using historic buildings is such a wonderful idea. If you like to go green, then check out this field because there is a lot is going on. </div><br /><div>With all that said, I will venture forth into the exciting world of blogging. My small group of friends and I keep ourselves entertained in one of the most beautiful cities in the country. I will seek to keep my blog lively and fresh, but forgive me any blogging faux pas!</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13594015053230044583noreply@blogger.com1