Letters to Santa

There is nothing more magical than kids who believe.  I am winding down a fairly stressful day with children's letters to Santa.  Enjoy!

"Dear Santa,
I have been trying to be good this year, but boys will be boys. You must know that by now."
- Henry, 8

"Dear Santa,
You are very good at being quiet on Christmas Eve, but I know you are there."
- Edwina, 8

"Dear Santa,
Mom and Dad said I have to wait until I am nine before they will buy me a new bike.  But I don't want to wait so long so I am really counting on you this year."
- Charlie, 7

"Dear Santa,
I heard you in my house this morning.  Two times!  I hope that means you brought some extra stuff!"
Candice, 9

"Dear Santa,
You know how I know you love me?  You waved at me in the mall today, even though I didn't sit on your lap.  Please be safe on Christmas so we can see you again next year!"
-Meghan, 6

"Dear Santa,
Last year I asked for a puppy and toys.  I got lots of toys and turtlenecks.  My neck is warm.  Can I get that puppy this year?"
-Zachary, 9

"Dear Santa,
All I need this year is $111.  Thanks!"
- Ryan, 7

"Dear Santa,
Can you tell me if I am on the nice or notty list?  I want to know what's comen."
- Alex, 8

"Dear Santa,
If you bring a bown arrow, I promise not to use it in the house or point it at anyone."
- Mark, 9

"Dear Santa,
I moved since last Christmas.  Please don't forget to look up my new address."
- Alexis, 7

"Dear Santa,
I would like some new crayons.  Of different colors."
- Morgan, 5

"Dear Santa,
I know I haven't been good ALL year, but I was good when it counted."
- Grayson, 7

"Dear Santa,
Please bring some toys and treats for the dog.  He has been very good this year."
- Michaela, 6

"Dear Santa,
For Christmas I want an internship at the Department of Human Services, several consecutive nights of sleep uninterrupted by panicky nightmares about papers and exams, and some socks.  I will be at the same house that I have been at for Christmas for the last 12 years, so I shouldn't be hard to find.  I won't be leaving you cookies this year, as I will probably have eaten all of them and you really should be balancing your round-the-world diet anyhow.  Please consider using antibacterial hand soap/wipes on your trip this year; I can't help but think you would be an excellent vehicle for infectious agents.  Safe travels!"
- Katie, 23

100. One Hundred. Hundo.

To celebrate my hundredth post I thought I would make a list for ya. I love lists and I love this website on the power of the "List of 100." Listing 100 things on any topic definitely makes you think really hard, dig deep, and get a little creative.

Since it's the holiday season, and I am getting over my Grad School Blues a bit, I think I will grace you with:

100 Things That Make Me Happy

It may seem a little lame, cliche', or tamer than the things I have been sharing lately, but I think it is such a good evaluation of life sometimes, to remind us that there are at least 100 things to be happy about. Enjoy!

1. Woolen socks on winter days.
2. Philosophical conversations over hot coffee.
3. Working for an organization that I truly believe in, and support their mission not only through my work but through my personal actions.
4. 4-legged friends.
5. My roommates. They are some of the most vibrant, dynamic young women I have ever had the pleasure to know.
6. Fast-forwarding though commercials.
7. A big beautiful, blank canvas and an afternoon.
8. Midday naps.
9. Christmas movies (especially when enjoyed in summer).
10. Picking apples off the tree and eating them in the orchard.
11. Doing the crossword in bed on a weekend morning.
12. Singing in the car.
13. Summer evening rainbows.
14. Purring cats.
15. Wearing summer dresses to local art fairs.
16. Talking to strangers in airports/on airplanes.
17. Black and white photos.
18. Being in triathlon shape.
19. Shivan's "Hangover French Toast."
20. Freshly washed, still warm from the dryer bed sheets.
21. 2 f0r 1's @ Stella's on a Saturday night in "the" upstairs corner booth.
22. Weddings. Wedding dances. Getting dressed up for weddings. Being so honored to be asked to be in a wedding. Celebrating love. Weddings are the best!
23. Tacos.
24. Free stuff.
25. When strangers buy coffee for each other.
26. Sun porches.
27. Early morning breakfasts.
28. Wii Tennis championships in the living room.
29. Surprises.
30. Emergency preparedness/planning.
31. Nightly roommate pow-wow in which the following topics nearly always come up: school (we hate it but we love it), funny things we did as undergrads, men (the good, the bad, and the ugly), and food.
32. Fresh snow on all environmental surfaces EXCEPT the roads.
33. Getting to the on ramp right as the idiot light turns green. Wahooo!
34. Getting lost and then found again.
35. Mittens.
36. Going barefoot anywhere it is acceptable.
37. Skipping.
38. Telling "college" stories. What a unique experience to have such a padded place to test your wings.
39. Birthday Week (one day does not have the capacity to contain all the fun I prefer to have for birthdays).
40. Yellow shoe laces.
41. Making Christmas cookies with the "Muehe" ladies. I do not remember a Christmas that we have not had an afternoon of rolling, cutting, baking, frosting, sprinkling, goofing up, "breaking" the cookie to eat it, and some hysterical laughter.
42. One woman dance parties. It is absolutely imperative to one's mental health to celebrate their own accomplishments.
43. The ocean.
44. Being able to consider my immediate family my best friends. It has been wonderful to have a collective 126 years of life experience to draw from!
45. The Spoonbridge and Cherry. Easily my favorite place on the planet. This makes me think that it is funny that no matter how well traveled I am (and I would consider myself moderately to fairly well-traveled for someone my age), it's still things close to home that make me happiest. This is a true testament to the fact that amongst all the other "rights" in my life, I am in the right geographical place too. What a lovely feeling.
46. Car rides. If the walls of cars could talk, they would tell the most intimate of secrets.
47. Driving a manual transmission car. Vrrooom Vrroooom!
48. House plants.
49. Custom Nikes. Love love love love love.
50. Being able to say I am halfway done with large tasks.
51. Realizing I have less to do on a large task than I have already accomplished.
52. Flirting.
53. Giving presentations. If you can't dazzle them with science, baffle them with bullshit.
54. Being respected for being intelligent and praised for being a hard worker. These are some of my favorite qualities of myself.
55. Getting my haircut.
56. Easy to open pistachios.
57. Getting mail.
58. Making faces.
59. Being able to tell your dreams and aspirations to someone and have them love and respect you for it rather than think you are crazy.
60. Sledding.
61. Sailboats.
62. Giving to charity; whether it is time, money, donated goods, or simple well wishes and a thank you.
63. Hot tea before bed.
64. People with an inherent calmness to them. This may be jealousy, as I am not inherently calm but rather a bit of a firecracker. Nonetheless, I enjoy being in the presence of calm.
65. Watching TV shows from my childhood: Captain Planet, Saved by the Bell, Full House.
66. Grammar and spelling. Not that mine are always perfect.
67. A solid "I am here for you" hug.
68. Surprising people.
69. Installing something--anything-- by myself. Like: internet service, shelving units, etc. It reasserts my power over complicated material things.
70. Buying select groceries from the local co-op. While it makes me feel a little poor, it simultaneously makes me feel hip and good for the planet. Plus, organic cheese is the cat's meow.
71. First dates. Even when they rarely become second dates, and almost never become a third, first dates are typically so fun.
72. Butterfly gardens.
73. The sound of running water.
74. People who acknowledge the need to extend human rights even when their own cultural or religious experiences has not.
75. Traveling.
76. Listening to people speak in languages other than English.
77. People watching.
78. Catching someone "people watching" me!
79. Wonderful and supportive classmates @ The School of Public Health. There will always be a unique bond with the people I have shared this crazy experience with.
80. Finishing things significantly before the deadline.
81. Finishing things right before the deadline and having that magical "Phew!" feeling.
82. Bubble baths and a bottle of wine.
83. IKEA furniture that lasts more than 6 months.
84. Completing things you never thought possible.
85. Making a mistake and discovering it was better than what you had intended in the first place.
86. The smell of freshly cut grass in the summer.
87. Balloon hats. And newspaper hats for that matter.
88. Driving with the windows down in the summer.
89. Happy dogs.
90. The absolutely massive variety of hamburgers at King's Cafe in Miesville. I would recommend The Slider.
91. LEGOs.
92. Picking up where I left off.
93. Starting over.
94. A little lesson I learned from my childhood dog: sometimes the only movement you really need to do throughout a lazy, relaxing day is to relocate yourself to the "sunny spots" throughout the house as the sun bounces from one horizon to the other.
95. Crunchy peanut butter (now in organic! My heart be still. . . )
96. People who are thoughtful. I am trying to take notes.
97. Ladybugs on windowsills.
98. Reading the newspaper in print form, rather than online at least once every two weeks.
99. Understanding that someday big milestones will feel little, maybe even become part of the background noise and that the little things may be what ends up defining part of my character. And being okay with whichever way things go.
100. Crossing the finish line.

New Layout

I wanted to make this easier to read by making the text space wider, as I can often talk at length and it was frustrating to be scrolling so far, only reading 3 inches of text. Sorry, if you were super attached to the old color scheme, it didn't all transfer perfectly with the new template. Don't get your panties in a bunch about switching the yellow to gold-orange. I did what I had to.

Also, I just realized that this is my 99th post, making the next one the BIG FAT 100!

There is a lot of pressure to provide you with something awesome, but my brain capacity is that of a slug. Dilemma-- I can't very well wait all the way until the semester is over to draft a really dreamy post, deserving of the third digit it is about to acquire, but I also don't want my 100th post to be me bitching about school. Huh. There is a lot to ponder.

Paper Writing: Pushing Every Boundary You Ever Thought You Had Set

Physical Boundaries

1. The Gut: I have recently discovered that my stomach does not like to be left out of any event, including paper writing. The harder my hands are working to type things up, the harder my stomach thinks it needs work. It's favorite wartime victims? HoneyComb cereal, mini marshmallows (mmmm mallows), Lime Tostitos and salsa, chocolate, and pickles. Not usually all at once, but the next three weeks may test that boundary as well.*

2. Amount of Sleep Required To Function: Very little, actually. Now, I am not staying up all night to write papers because I value my mental and physical health too much to do that unless it is an emergency, but I am constantly outlining, editing, rearranging, and creating tables in my head. All day. Even when I should be sleeping. I have discovered that the only way to ensure myself some solid sleep is to roast myself into a beautiful coma via electric blanket. Set the dial to [H] and eyelids to closed and. . . I dream in data analysis code.** Okay, not an ideal dream, but at least I am sleeping.

3. The Body is a Vessel Built for Caffeine Storage: An entire pot of coffee? Child's play. However, I do refuse to use anything harder than espresso shots, and even 2 or 3 shots of espresso in a hot beverage is about my max.

Mental Boundaries

1. Multi-tasking: Two tasks at once? That's it?! Pick your knuckles up off the ground, caveman, and learn to really multi-task. For instance, it is 10:50 am on a Tuesday and I am currently engaged in the following:

• Listening to GIS disease tracking lecture
• Paper crossword puzzle
• Harvesting Farmville crops
• Updating assignment due dates on the Google Calendar
• Shopping at rei.com

2. Creativity: There is no bounds to creative ways to eat, sleep, get out of a pickle, create a pickle for someone else, communicate with friends, etc. I also find that my mind is so mumbo-jumbled, that the things I say make less sense, but people think I am being funny. I just roll with it.

3. Memory: If it isn't related to the following items, I have forgotten it:

• Rotaviral vaccination in developing countries
• Mandatory AED placement in Hennepin County
• Official University of Minnesota email as an effective communication method to inform students about H1N1 preparedness
• The risk to human rights by allowing water to be treated as a for-profit commodity

Emotional Boundaries

There are currently no emotional boundaries, because the last three weeks of a grad school semester strip the student of all signifiers of emotion, except tears. There is no patience, no sympathy, no empathy, no epic joy, a little epic heartbreak, little compassion shown, tons of sarcasm, heaps of dramatic and heavy sighs, and many tears. Except, luckily I have crossed into the realm in which there is no time to cry. Which is good, it frees up all the time I was spending sobbing to actually do some work.***

*I bet pickles with salsa could be good in someway. I'll let you know.

** So a lot of times when I am frustrated by irony, I will say "Jesus!" Rarely am I a "Jesus Christ!" exclaimer, but I do like "For christ sake." Okay, so then the other day I say someone else's blog in which they typed "Geezus" in place of what I assume is to be "Jesus" when used as an exclamation. So then I debated what to type here, where I eventually decided not to type anything. But, what is up with that? Like misspelling his name means you aren't using it in vain? Gimme a break. Jesus.

*** This could be interpreted as the most giant "I don't give a flip about anything else." This would not be wholly correct or wholly incorrect. Take it as it is.

The History of the Christmas Tree

Roman Times: Ancient Romans decorated trees with small pieces of metal during a winter festival honoring Saturnus, the god of agriculture. [Insert how the Christians stole pagan rituals-- I would call it positive religious marketing. Regardless of where you sit on the religious spectrum, it was genius of them, really.]

Middle Ages: An evergreen was decorated with apples and called the Paradise tree, as a symbol of the feast of Adam and Eve and was held on December 24th each year. Should we be celebrating Adam and Eve's feast? I mean, wasn't it her devouring of one stinkin' apple that doomed us all in the first place? I would opt out of that celebration.

1500's: Modern trees appear during this century in Germany, undecorated.

1600's: 1605 gives us the first recorded decorated Christmas tree, adorned with paper roses, apples, and candies. Tinsel was invented in Germany in 1610. Little did they know Tinsel would become the Herpes of Christmas decorations--permanently infecting EVERYTHING it touches. Let's call this one of Germany's earliest major failures in a centuries-long string of worldly shortcomings.

1700's: Haha, my source for this entry says this was century that saw the first record of a Christmas tree in America. Uh, duh. . . this century also saw the first record of, I don't know, America. Decorations in this century were still of the "homemade variety," except the blasted tinsel from the Germans. Angels appear at the top of trees for the first time in this century, and little fires are lit under their butts.

1800's: Tinsel is still around, making it now the German's longest standing mistake to date. In this century, American greed first presented itself at the holidays during this century, in which each member of the family got their own Christmas tree. It was also in this century that the first Christmas tree lot opened in New York. Despite this advance, parents will still drag their young into the middle of the woods to cut down their own tree for many, many decades to come.

1900's: Christmas trees became larger, so people could put more tinsel on them (for christsake, Germany!). With the Mod 60's in full swing, the Silver Pine became trendy with a revolving light source beneath it, making decorating unnecessary for this tree (bye bye nasty tinsel!).

November 29, 2009: Every. Single. Car. on Minnesota highways has a Christmas tree strapped to it, shoved into it, hanging hap-hazardly out the trunk, or dragging behind. Seriously, even the rednecks in the truck next to us at a stoplight had a Charlie Brown tree untied in the bed of their truck. Holy bananas. I guess I just haven't gotten in to the Christmas spirit yet.

What's In an Inbox?

Once upon a time, in a barren cold land far far away--called Fargo-- I was an RA. Also known as remedial parent/adult babysitter/do-gooder. I loved my job. Loved everything about it (almost) and wanted almost all of my residents to be my best friend, and a lot of them were. So, each year we wrote a newsletter article introducing ourselves in the fall. Now, I could have just written a standard "My name is Katie, I like puppies and ice cream blah blah blather." But I'm not that girl. And I truly believe you learn a WHOLE lot more about a person by what they're not saying: the friends the keep, the way they act, and the stuff they have. So I used to introduce myself by giving my residents a literary tour of my room and highlight things that I owned that were important or significant and why, letting them get to know me that way. I thought about doing that tonight, but I think it would be cooler on here with photos so I am saving it in my idea box for the next time I have too much creativity but no real structured idea.

Not wanting to abandon the whole idea though, I decided tonight I will give you a select tour of my email inbox. I pretty much live and die by my email-- I keep all my most important documents saved there, I use it as my calendar in some ways, I prefer to send work/school communication that way and I even talk to my best friend through email more than any other way even though we only live 25 miles apart, simply because you can send an email at 3am on a Tuesday, but she would skin me if I called "just to, you know, chat" at that time.

Buckle your safety belts, and welcome to @gmail.com:

207 Total Messages

I almost never let it get this full. I love to archive my mail or sort it into the little color coded labels (which I custom made-- every single one of them). The fact that my inbox spills on to a third page is indicative of the true fact that when I am stressed the VERY first thing to get dropped is organization. This is a poor coping mechanism, as disorganization is stressful. I am developing a coping mechanism to deal with my failed coping mechanism-- it isn't refined yet, but usually involves chocolate.

7 Unread Messages

I never leave unread messages. Except it made the blog more interesting if I did just for this part. I am going to check them now.

Of the 7 Unread:

• 2 were NYTimes News Alerts. I want a job where I read the news all day/every day from sources all over the world. I would excel at it.
• 3 were spam. Deleted.
• 1 was a Facebook invite for a running event. Save and star.
• 1 was from DirecTV. It is probably most akin to a very bad dog coming home with it's tail between its legs. They were naughty, and got FULLY reprimanded tonight.

Highlights from the Other 200 Inbox Cloggers

• Subject: Happy Hour Tonight! I super loved that the time stamp on this was 9:02am. Because this week, all the SPHers are thinking about drinking as soon as we wake up. On the plus side, we are quickly sliding in to a less stressful zone (we think).
• Subject: One more thing you could try I asked my professor one very simple, benign question about median splitting when you turn a continuous variable into categorical, and 6 (SIX) emails later, she had given me yet "one more thing" I could try on my dataset that "might be kind of neat." If I do it, can I have an A? I mean, it's something you could try and it might be kind of neat.
• Three new friend requests on Facebook! I am cyber-popular. And not sure how I should feel about it.
• Two returned, graded papers. Sometimes I call these day-brighteners. Sometimes I feel like they are some higher power, channeled through red ink (yes, I have a professor who does in-text comments in red type), telling me to join the circus. And I think, too late, whatever-higher-power-you-subscribe-to, I already JOINED the circus. I am that stinkin' elephant balanced on the little box holding a bouncy ball in my tail, working for peanuts. Luckily, this week my returned assignments were day-brighteners. They were much needed and appreciated.
• Newspaper articles I sent myself to streamline reading. I think I need to learn about Google Reader, and what it can do for me, because I email myself stuff to read all the time, and it is kind of sad to see 6 messages in a row that list the sender as "me."
• 4 password requests. This one cracks me up because I should just use one password, but its hard to do. Some have to be 6 characters with 1 capital and 1 number. Some must have a special character (you know, they kind you swear with: @%I*#), some can have NO special characters. No spaces. No numbers. Cannot use the answer to your security question in your password. Cannot have repeating characters. Cannot be in foreign language. Must be reference to early childhood. Must be written in Webdings. Must reference at least one Prince song. Cannot be be written in "Elmer Fudd." Entering password is not an appropriate password. So you see, I struggle to remember my passwords, and writing them down is sort of not the point of something only you can know, so I always have to click that [Forgot your Password?] button at secure websites. So embarrassing.

Okay loves, it's tomorrow now. Today is already yesterday and tomorrow is today so I have to get some sleep so when I get up tomorrow I can go to work today.

I apologize that this was random and disjointed. I am also feeling that way. I also had 6 cups of coffee today.

I also apologize that entries are a bit biting, sarcastic, and defeatist. Of course, I know you guys know this is a phase, it is me coping with stress, and I am sort of at a point where little things that shouldn't bug me do. Stress makes me appreciate and seek to maintain status quo. I promise to return to the more positive self that I actually am (not that this isn't me). In the meantime, thanks for putting up with my "grad school is hard" pity party. I don't mean to take it out on you. Thanks, friends.

Nerd Alert in 3. . . 2. . . 1. . . BAM!

Despite the whining or crying you have probably heard me doing in the last week about data analysis, vaccine efficacy, or policy papers, I truly love the field of Public Health, and there are so many reasons to love it. But one of my all time favorite features is Public Health's unhealthy obsession with flowcharts, which mirrors my unhealthy obsession. While I have never historically struggled with learning, I am definitely a visual learner, and if there is an organization or system even better. If it is tangible I will learn it for life.*

So today, I was looking at writing a report and I could waste 4 pages and hours of my time typing, editing, rewording, adding and subtracting OR I could make a chart. I refuse to work harder, always work smarter-- chart it is. Now, on the old, dead thousand dollar paper-weight of a computer, I had a program that made it fairly easy to create flowcharts. Add shapes, add arrows, type some text, and voila! Fast forward to the infamous 2009 crashing of one grad school Dell, resulting in the bullet train that is my current computer (zoom zoom, my friends, this baby is awesome). Except, no flowchart creator. Hmmm, very interesting.

(Digging around the bullet train for a half hour or so)

And then I discovered it. Word 2007 has a chart creator. But this isn't just flowcharts, it is a SMÖRGÅSBORD** of goodies. There's arrows and matrices and relation webs and all kinds of beautiful. And of course, my first instinct was to create some stuff! And then share it with you! And it was funny stuff!

But guess what? I couldn't figure out how to get them from Word to here. I know, lameskis right? And I am sure there is a way, but the longer I try to figure it out, the less actual work I am getting done. So instead, I will share with you some of my favorite flowcharts I have stumbled across on the web in the last few years since I started collecting them.***

Okay, dudes and dudettes: I had posted a bunch of funny flowcharts here, but they didn't fit in the given width of the blog space. Even though the preview showed them perfectly. I don't know what happened. Clearly today, technology wins. I do not have the mental prowess left required to fight with Blogger. I will try to fix it or update something better later. But I figured since I had to struggle like mad-crazy with this, you will have to read a blog entry so sub-par it's killin' Tiger Woods.

Thanks, loves. Have a good Wednesday night. The roommate is making us all dinner! Do you think she and I can realistically live together for life?!

* This is why I blazed through anatomy lab in undergrad, but had to bust my butt to secure a B in lecture. Talk to me about muscles for 3 weeks, I give it 50/50. Let me shock the gizzards out of an animal muscle or put my fingers in a fresh, not preserved brain? I. Get. It.

** That's how Google told me to spell it. . . I don't know, but I never question The Google.

*** Do not doubt! They are saved in my Google Notebook. Seriously. I love flowcharts.

Horoscopes are Bogus, Except When They're Not

I don't really believe in the predictive power of horoscopes, and I figure they only relate to people because they are so vague and happen to touch on universal truths of the common (wo)man. However, my horoscope for today was so dead ringer I choked on a Kix.

Whatever the rules, you will fully investigate their flexibility.

The only flaw? That's really more my life horoscope. If I was a super hero, this would be my mantra.

I Am Typing You This Weblog From Inside a Lion

The title is a reference to the Shel Silverstein poem "It's Dark in Here."

My "lion" is a pile of homework, but I just wanted to share a little nugget with you. In grad school, you gotta rely on the little things to get you through or you will never make it. So, everyday I find something little to be thankful about, and its usually something funny because it makes my mood better to laugh at myself a bit. My 'get-thru-Thurs' thought today is:

"I bet Dr. Phil would find my life totally boring. Oh, thank god for that."

Scar Tissue (And Brief Warning: Semi-Graphic Image)

You know how you see a really great scar on someone and catch yourself staring a little longer than you should, wondering what could have happened to have left such a mark? Or better, when it's a friend and you finally ask and they kinda light up and say, "Oh, dude it is the best story!" When I think about that, it's pretty ironic. Dude, let me tell you about the time that there was such an extreme amount of energy forced against my body (whether its temperature or kinetic) that caused enough damage to the structure and cells that it left permanent sub-par tissue in its place. And energy transfer resulting in an injury to result in a scar can almost, in no physical way, not cause pain. And those of us who have our own scar stories always talk about the pain. Or the blood. Or the infection. All kinds of excellent bodily excretions and functions that go along with severe injury.

But nevertheless, people love to tell their scar stories. Over and over and over. No matter how gruesome. I, for one, turned my apartment into what appeared to be a murder scene once. Victim: left hand. Scene: Doing dishes. Culprit: broken IKEA glass. Bled for: 26 hours (this is not a lie). Medical care from Student Health Services: probably sub-par, but adequate when in a pinch with blood dripping down your elbow in the waiting room. Scar: small, triangular, pillowy, white and soft.

And while that story doesn't really fit with my thesis to why people love their scar stories (I know, right? There is a point to this), it is still my scar. My story. And sometimes when I tell it in person, it is hilarious.

People like to tell their scar stories because it's proof they made it through something. So yeah, that kind of makes mine lame and your thinking "Wow, Katie, you're congratulating yourself on completing one sink load of dishes?! What's next, matching socks?" But, you could take it in a more philosophical sense of at least I was out there, living on my own, taking care of my basic needs, which I haven't always been able to do and not everyone can/does. And think of the scuffed knees we all have. My knees are a veritable patchwork quilt of rough, scarred, discolored scars. I had many encounters with surfaces less soft than my own body as a child such as the pavement, the curb, the ball field, bricks, tree roots, walls, stairs, sharp corners, and playground surfaces. I let all kinds of foreign bodies enter my system via open wounds on the knee. And all the best/funniest/goofiest/most memorable things I did as a child? Those things earned me another scar on the knee. Because right before the scar, is when people are truly living.

And that's not to say that you aren't "truly living" if you have less dangerous hobbies* or are actually able to work the brakes on your bike (oh my gosh, Kim and Dad, please tell me you remember the time I up-and-overed the curb into the McKeon's yard riding a ten speed for the first time). But scar stories are indications of times where we pushed the boundary a little bit, maybe just a little far, and we got hurt. But it was still worth it, and eventually we pride ourselves, even just a little, on the stupid things we tried. Because, hey, at least we tried. Better than tried really, because even if the outcome wasn't exactly what we wanted, we survived it. And maybe learned from it. Or tried and failed more triumphantly later!

*I do not now, nor will I ever, consider finishing a load of dishes truly living. Unless I am hanging upside down over a riverbed filled with alligators, without the use of my hands, blindfolded, with a toothbrush, all while singing the National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation theme song (Christmas Vacation by Mavis Staples-- google it and for sure you will smile bunches). This would be a dish-doing adventure, scarless or not, worth sharing.

This was taken 2 weeks after the initial injury. If I had shown that picture, you would have puked. I share this one, just in case you are eating breakfast. It's the most important meal and I don't want to be the cause of your nutritional deficiency because you didn't take the warning in the title seriously. I know, warnings like that only make people want to look more. That's what I was hoping, after all.

Warning: This is a Bit "Stream of Consciousness-esque"

My life has no purpose, no direction, no aim, no meaning. And yet I am happy. I can't figure it out. What am I doing right? -- Charles Schulz

It's a curious thing, the measurement of happiness. Sometimes I catch a toothy smile reflecting at me in the mirror, and ask "What do you have to be so happy about?" And on the surface, it seems like maybe not much.

I have no job, and thus no income, but still have bills. I eventually will owe back to the government all of the money I have borrowed from them to be in school. The amount of money I owe them is more than the total worth of all of my possessions combined. I "work" well over 40 or 50 hours per week on school and internship things, and when I am not working on those things I am thinking about them. They stress me out, which is not always physically or mentally healthy. I do not see friends and family as often as I like, it has been almost a year since I had the chance to visit Fargo, I have not been able to see my out-of-state grandparents in a painfully long time. I eventually have to look for a real big-kid job in a crapper of an economy. I am in a class that makes me feel stupid- and that almost never happens. And the homework I am doing is researching babies dying from diarrhea. I mean, if that's not reason enough to think about new career choices, I do NOT know what is.

Ooof, that list of less than happy things is totally not short. But tonight, I shirked homework responsibilities (a little) to watch Grey's Anatomy with my roommates, who I adore. And then I made chocolate chip cookies, including one the size of my face for my roommate's boyfriend. And I don't go out often anymore, but I appreciate the times that I do a whole lot more. And I don't know when the next Sunday dinner at my parent's house will be, but I am so excited for it because it is always the perfect rest and relaxation I need, even if only for a few hours. Today, for the first time, I ran without my headphones in. The first mile totally sucked. My pace was all over, I couldn't concentrate, it was awful. But the last 2 miles-- so cool. I got to enjoy all my favorite parts of my neighborhood and tune into the dog park, and the honking traffic, and the hippie playing guitar at the lake, and kids jumping in the leaves. All while doing one of my newly favorited activities.

On the surface, I think most people would think I am crazy for allowing myself to be in the situation I am in (unemployed, nearly-broke, frazzled single grad student). But somewhere, even where I don't know, there's a secret to this because I am ridiculously happy (and I have not had a beer tonight either). That's so cool.

But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads. -- Albert Camus

Good night, loves.

Spider Plants Can Be Lovely

See. Told ya.

Halloween 2009

I know the photo isn't stellar because I stole it from someone's Facebook, but I just wanted to show you a few things:

1. My roommates and I were some of the best dressed costumes at our parties and did not have our butts or boobs hanging out like several women usually do at Halloween.

2. I don't look awesome in yellow, but overall my costume was awesome-- with removal parts!

3. Check out those shoes. So. Frickin'. Excellent.

Everyone Deserves Community

Today at (unpaid) work, I was charged with looking up associations and organizations in Minnesota that would be suitable contacts for my project-- fire/police associations, EMS associations, volunteer organizations perhaps. So, I turned to The Google, everyone's favorite "I don't know where to start this" work tool. Oh. My. God. There is so weird stuff out there. Enjoy my hard, but unfruitful work!

Associations that make sense:

• Minnesota Dental Association:
• Minnesota Broadcasters Association
• Association of Minnesota Counties
• Minnesota Association of Bankers
• Minnesota Golf Association

Associations that may not make sense in other regions, but make sense here:

• Minnesota Corn Growers Association
• Minnesota Canoe Association
• Minnesota United Snowmobilers Association
• Iron Mining Association of Minnesota

Associations that are totally totally bizarre:

• Minnesota Association of Rogue Taxidermy: The epitome of bizarre. Totally weird, I cannot even describe. The pictures (which I would NOT show to small children unless you want pee-stained everything) show taxidermied animals in which more than one species are combined, things have extra eyes or legs, features are 'artistically' enhanced. I don't know how to describe it. Check it out: http://www.roguetaxidermy.com/
• Minnesota Association for Pupil Transportation: Also known as "Bus Driver's Poker Club." Just saying.
• Minnesota Association of Cemeteries: The issue here is the wording. Cemeteries to do not associate, in fact the whole point if cemeteries is that they are full of people who no longer have the capacity to associate. They should change the name to Minnesota Association of Cemetery Workers, Curators, or whatever you call someone who is important enough in the cemetery business to professionally associate with others.
• Minnesota Companion Bird Association: Bah! If that bird was such a good companion, you wouldn't need to associate with other bird owners. This sounds like a "I bought a broken pet" club.
• Minnesota Killie Keepers Association: For the people who keep killifish-- of which there are over 320 species! A) this grosses me out 'cause they are little fish. The little ones bug me the most. Meh, so do the big ones. Heebie Jeebies! B) 320 species?! That makes me feel like membership requirements for the club are: "I have a pretty smallish fish in a bowl/tank/aquarium." Some specialization maybe wouldn't kill the club?

Other associations of cuteness and/or interest:

• Minnesota Bed and Breakfast Association: I bet they have The. Best. Food. Ever. at their meetings.
• Minnesota Association of Weapons Collectors: Wow, there's a meeting where you want to get along with everyone. Everyone. My favorite is that it really doesn't distinguish what kind of weapons. Does someone just walk in with a bazooka while someone like me would be snapping people's arms with a rubberband?
• Minnesota Organization of Numismatists: I just like to say the word numismatist.
• Minnesota Society of Children's Books Writers and Illustrators: Probably the most fun meetings ever, and I bet they rarely use words that someone doesn't know (or at least couldn't sound out).

Mugwump Mathematics

If you visit between the time I errantly posted only the title of this post and the time I actually post it-- sorry. Sometimes keyboard shortcuts are our best friends. Sometimes they are our worst enemy.

Before I get to my actual post, which I have spent much time thinking of, there are some other goodies to share. Consider this like the Breaking News that interrupts your favorite TV show (god, I hate that).

Goody #1: I cleaned my bathroom today. It smells like dead germs. I love that.

Goody #2: When I got to (unpaid) work today, there was a raspberry brownie on my desk with a note from The Bosses that says: "To Katie (aka Our Rockstar Intern), Thanks for Everything You Do!"

Goody #3/Baddy #1: The good-- yesterday was Taco Tuesday, and this morning I had tacos for breakfast. It was love. The bad-- I used a non-meat meat substitute (I should have known-- it's called 'veggie protien'). Flavor-wise, not terrible. Texture-wise- meh. I will go back to the ground turkey, thanks.

Okay, back to your regularly scheduled blog: Mugwump Mathematics

adequate breakfast > 1 piece of PB toast + 1 cup of gross coffee

2 people + 1 personal bubble = 1 Mugwump thinking "FREEDOM!" when the bus doors open

3 roommates + 2 hours of good TV + homemade pizza > finishing a paper that isn't due until next week

2 hours + 1 monotone speaker who loves the sound of his own voice + 7 Facebook updates = What slide are we on? What are we talking about?

1 Mugwump + 3 cups of coffee = Let's just call bathroom stall 1 my new office

17 minutes/2 miles > my lung capacity. I wheezed for like an hour straight after I stopped moving. Out. Of. Shape.

16 emails/6 hours = still didn't get the one I need. Guh.

1 Mugwump + 2 Minneapolis paintings + 2 offers to buy = making a "living*" doing what you love

1 dark room + 1 boring class = two extremely heavy eyelids

Well, I am not very math-minded, so I think that's all I got for tonight. Someday I may post pictures again. In fact, I probably will. And despite the mega-breaks between posting of the pictures, it won't make future photos any less trivial. Happy Middle of the Week! It's all gravy from here!

* Aaaaahahaha, hahaha, haaah, whew. A living?! Right . . . let's face it though. Makin' mochas didn't make me a living or make me happy. At least painting is 1 for 2.

Monday Thoughts

1. Oh, apparently it is "hot man" day at the grocery store. I clearly misinterpreted the memo, as I showed up as a "hot mess" in two mismatched shirts and a hat that could not contain whatever possessed my hair this morning. Oh matchmaker, matchmaker. . . you've got your work cut out for you, friend.

2. SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!! Where have you been?! Can you take off your shoes and stay a while? I missed you.

3. I would rather clean than do homework. (What?! WHAT?!! Since when?)

4. Rainbow now sells taco seasoning in bulk. It was love in the Ethnic Food Aisle.

5. Okay, I do love my cube. It is the first time I have had "my space" at a job. However, who decided "Hey, not only am I going to sit you in this cute little lidless box for hours, but I am going to make it the absolutely most flat color of grey I can think of. And then all the furniture will be grey too. Except your chair is red, but it's under your butt so you will never appreciate it.

6. The spider plant is reproducing again. Again. He's such a slut.

Happy Monday, lovelies! The sun and coffee has done wonders for my mood! My (unpaid) job is still excellent, my school is pretty cool, my family is simultaneously my friends. . . it doesn't get better than this.

You Can Stand Under My Umbrella

Rain brings a lot of things out of people: melancholy moods, goofy wet-dog hair dos, road rage.

And their umbrellas. Which umbrella are you?

The Golf (or other Ultra Large) Umbrella

Because that doesn't scream high maintenance.

You feel entitled to your very own dry planet and you do not care how many eyes you poke or shoes you soak, with those stupid drops that fall off the points of the umbrella arms, to get it. Your spatial reasoning skills are terrible, as you do not recognize that your umbrella is wider than the entire sidewalk and now no one can pass alongside you, forcing them to slop through mud puddles. Of course, you don't notice because you can't see from underneath the convertible top you wield to repel all traces of weather.

The Windestructible*

Oh goodness, no, you don't look this stupid. His umbrella is really irrelevant to his appearance of stupidity.

Luckily for you, rain always falls straight down and weather systems that contain rain produce no other meteorological symptoms. Like wind. The funny thing is your umbrella is so fickle that a sneeze in the Himalayas sends your umbrella topsy-turvy inside out, faster than Republicans pick up pennies off the floor. You spend the majority of your time outside the umbrella, wrestling with each little prong, getting soaked. Also luckily for you, umbrellas were designed flawlessly and you won't at all look awkward or ridiculous fighting with yours on the sidewalk. Honest, you scream "graceful" over there.

The Too Small Two-fer

Invest in this, snookie bum cakes. Look at all that free space.

You just wuv your wickle snookie bottoms peach cake of a boyfriend/girlfriend and cannot stand the thought of being a WHOLE UMBRELLA'S WIDTH away from schnookums. But, you don't have any money to buy a big umbrella because you spend all your extra money (and time!) on nice things for boo boo baby cakes. And let's face it, you don't want to be the huge umbrella asshole, pokin' out eyes. The screams of pain would distract you from staring into your schmoopsy's soul through her big beautiful eyes. So instead, you (gladly) melt yourself to your significant other while you try to cram under one tiny umbrella. Congrats, only half of you is COMPLETELY soaked. Heh, now you truly do have a better half-- the half that doesn't smell like wet sneaker.

The I'm-a-Total-Idiot Umbrella

Aaaaaahahaha. . . hahaha, haaa, heh. Whew. You look dumb.

I am just going to let the picture tell this story.

*An awesome play on words, if I do say so myself. I hope you got it. Wind. Indestructible. Destructible. Shut up, it's funny.

The Perfect Gentle Nudge/Kick in the Butt

I usually refuse to allow myself to cry over things that are trivial or that I have done to myself (the latter being most of the things that bring me to tears). And of course, it all builds up.

Today I got this email, and it definitely brought me to tears, but at the same time was a great "There's nothing to cry about here" reminder. And I got over myself and got to work.

To: Katie

From: [Removed]

Subject: first notice

The Caribou Mafia wants you to know it expects you to be working on your thesis.

Make a group of opinionated ol' men lattes for months, and they will return the favor by leaving decent tips. And by looking out for you. Thanks guys.

Epic Exam > Updating Photos

This is a super quick time-waster because I am in over my head in infectious disease modeling, biut don't have time to take/edit/update photos. Tomorrow I will, I promise. But, I do have to share this news*: THE NIKES ARE HERE AND THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL. You could see my feet coming a mile away. And I love it. And I love them. And I have been wearing them all over the house. And I plan on running tomorrow just so I can run in them.

Alas, the compulsive package tracking can cease and desist. Mission accomplished.

*This is, of course, only news if you do not follow me on any combination of Facebook/Twitter/chat/interpersonal communication.

65/365

Day 65: Monday, October 12, 2009

WHOA! Only 300 more to go. . . seeing as how the last 65 went sooooo smoothly and seamless, the next 300 should be cake.

The Sky Was So Busy Making Snow Fall, It Forgot to Make the Sun Rise

Monday, October 12, 2oo9

The best thing about this photo: the snow has a way of making everything seem uniform, and peaceful. Regardless of what it going on in the natural world, the snowfall blankets everything in a stark white sameness.

High maintenance house cats do not fall within any sort of natural order. So while all this peaceful calm was going on in my camera lens, near my feet was one peeved kitty, moving her paws about a thousand miles an hour in and out of the shallow, but damp snow cover, trying to figure out how she could reach her puma-esque goals of living the outdoor house cat life without getting her "pwecious pwetty toesies wet and cowd." Hilarious. Although, she later showed me who would get the last laugh as she covered the entire heat register in the room I was in with her body, in which case the furnace pumps heat directly into the belly of the beast (quite literally) but not anywhere near my own pwecious pwetty toesies.

Continued. . .

The Tree's Knees

I Love Low F-Stops

Stay Warm, Little Buddy

Artist at Work

Make a Wish

It's not the full 19, but it at least gives you something to chew on for a bit.

Love love.

19 Photos = Up-to-date

Honestly, not all from each respective day that I have missed, but I will try to give you 19 new photos (including what was meant to be Moose Week*). This project has given me a whole new respect for people who can do something everyday**.

Moose Week

The Last Days of The Chaco

It Rains Every Day

Bills and Paperwork. Paperwork and Bills.

Leaky Pillow

You're Not In Fargo Anymore

"I'm Not Available Right Now"

Thomas: Toe Hunter

Green Acres At Twilight

Sunday Afternoon Spirituals

* You know, like Discovery Channel's Shark Week? Which is the most awesome week of television ever. Ever. And don't even pretend Space Week comes close.

** Except the basics. You do not wow or impress me if you brush your teeth everyday.

Two Glasses of Wine, A Bubble Bath and a Blinking Cursor? This Could Be Dangerous.

Impossible Things I Have Thought This Week:

1. I wonder if I could just stay up all night, not to study, but to get some time to just chill?

2. I think I will run the lake twice this morning.

3. It is easy to turn down an invite to Chipotle with a super great friend.

4. It won't take that long to clean my room.

5. A bowl full of Tootsie Rolls isn't really tempting.

6. I could live in Seattle.*

7. If I eat a HUGE meal in the morning, it will last me all day and I won't have to pack a lunch.**

8. If I just drink two (or so) glasses of wine and take an hour long bubble bath, I will come out rejuvenated and motivated to get things accomplished in the rest of my evening.

*Five straight days of rain and no sunlight has made me a very gloomy person. At first I was going to blame the bad mood on a whole host of other things (school is busy, work stinks, I am disorganized. . . yada yada yada). But as soon as the sun came out today, and all else held true, I felt better. Which is actually good. I would rather know that I wasn't going to be stuck in a bad mood on a beautiful day.

** Eating a huge morning meal accomplishes one thing, and only one thing: and uncomfortable tummy on the bus ride to school, a sleepy first class, and insatiable hunger around 11 am. Epic fail in digestive management on my part.

45/365

Day 45: September 22, 2009

iIntern
September 22, 2009

The Red Cross. I. Love. It. Love love love. Even Monday, I did "intern" things like sort papers into little piles, which I have a sinking suspicion is going to eventually lead to some data entry. And guess what? I would data enter ALL day for the Red Cross if they let me. I get to wear nice clothes, be with interesting, dynamic people who are all passionate about this awesome organization. I am a small cog in an international machine of good deeds and I am determined for my cog to get noticed for positive things and turn the cogs around me just a little bit better.

44/365

Day 44: Monday, September 21, 2009

Gallery Muehe: Admission Free
September 21, 2009

Well, you could bring a bottle of wine. . .

43/365

Day 43: Sunday, September 20, 2009

Omigod I Love Going Home
September 20, 2009

Smores and hot dogs over a campfire one night; grilled veggies and chicken the next?! I died and went home this weekend, and it was lovely.

42/365

Day 42: Saturday, September 19, 2009

I Want to Ride It Where I Like*
September 19, 2009

* Name that artist!

41/365

Day 41: Friday, September 18, 2009

"Your Blue Teeth, Tongue and Lips Really Bring Out the Blue in Your Eyes"
September 18, 2009

G2, Gatorade's low-cal energy drink in delicious blueberry pomegranate would be excellent, if you didn't have to drink it in the confines of your own home with no prospects of seeing anyone. I felt a little "You're turning violet, Violet" while I consumed one.

40/365

Day 40: September 17, 2009

Good Reads
September 17, 2009

39/365

Day 39: Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Nothing to Wear
September 16, 2009

38/365

Day 38: Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Where the Magic Happens
September 15, 2009

Ever watch MTV Cribs or those shows where they tour a celebrity home, and they always go into the bedroom, pan to the bed and say "This is where the magic happens!"?

Yeah, well, I gots intellectual magic (somedays) and this is where it happens. Because the only thing that happens in my bed is laundry and sleep.

37/365

Day 37/365: Monday, September 14, 2009

Using a photo from wedding weekend, as I was editing them for several days. . . no more taking 1200+ photos at one event. Uff da.

Grandma's Pearls
September 13, 2009

35/365 and 36/365

Days 35 and 36: Saturday, September 12 and Sunday September 13

Take a Seat
Saturday, September 12, 2009

Velez Wedding
September 13, 2009

Hired as a wedding photographer for the weekend for my roommate's little sister. Beautiful location, beautiful weather, beautiful (and laid back) people made it a success for my first gig. I probably won't make a career out of it (I wasn't that good) but it was definitely enjoyable!

34/365

Day 34: Friday, September 11, 2009

I Shot This Moose
September 11, 2009

Ugh, Guys. . . Seriously Sorry

Dudes, you are on my to-do list. I promise to update photos and stories so soon. I really do. For sure on the weekend. Which I know is a long way (trust me, I know). But I want to do it sooner, so I will try.

On the plus side, the mood of the last week has been one of "At face value, it may seem as if there are too few hours in my week, too many calories in my meals, too many items on the to-do list, and too few priorities set. But it's actually quite perfect."

I know, this is going to be a hectic semester. I am prepping myself with positive attitude. I allow myself one meltdown per semester-- I am hoping to save this one for right around December 13*.


* There is no reason for the selection of this date, but it is sort of that halfway between the holidays, winter sucks already, school never ends period where EVERY assignment is due at the same time and none of the holiday shopping is done, you spill hot cocoa on your white shirt every day, and you can't seem to stop eating. I hate this period of the year (for only the listed reasons-- love the holiday stuffs) and I want to celebrate my hatred with one mega temper tantrum and a bottle (or two) of 3 Buck Chuck.

Good night loves, I have not forgotten you.

33/365

Day 33: Thursday, September 10, 2009

Check and Check
September 10, 2009

Not that I claim that most of my photos of the day are good, but I realize this one is of especially lame photography quality. In this instance, it's the subject matter that counts. Do you see all the things crossed off that list?! Do you see that?! Okay, so some things ended up on the list more than one day, but they got done. That never happens! I never get things done. Conclusion: God, I am awesome.

Hopefully this trend continues all semester. We shall see. . .

32/365

Day 32: Wednesday, September 9, 2009

A picture is worth a thousand words, right? Here's today's words:

Longest. Day. Ever.

A thousand. . . three. . . what's the difference? However, a day that starts at 4:40 am and results in my strolling through the door around 8:58 pm does not get a picture. Sorry.

31/365

Day 31: Tuesday, September 8, 2009*

Truth in Advertising
September 8, 2009

*This day lives in infamy as my last first day of school. At least full time school, because at some point the government is going to want their money back and my parent's health insurance is going to drop my like a hot, diseased potato.

30/365

Day 30: Monday, September 7, 2009

Those Toes
September 7, 2009

Sorry feet, you probably aren't going to get to relax like that for a while. But thanks for hauling me all over this summer, and for holding up through a triathlon and a mega-relay. And for circling the lakes a thousand times, and for squeezing into many a heels for weddings and happy hours. You deserved the pillow today-- kudos!

29/365

Um, Day 29 brought to you by a dead camera battery. . . and an uncharged backup 25 miles from my Sunday location.

Sorry.

28/365

Day 28: Saturday, September 5, 2009

Mighty Midway
September 5, 2009

Had an excellent time at the fair with Dad on Saturday. Activities included (and were pretty much limited to): eating, people watching, photo taking (until my battery died-- not well prepared), and walking. A lesser known "on a stick" treat, the Scottish egg, was excellent. The tub of Sweet Martha's Chocolate Chip cookies on the counter is also excellent, although getting emptier and emptier by the hour. . .

27/365

Day 27: Friday, September 4, 2009

She Radiates
September 4, 2009