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Social Media Is About Friends January 25, 2014

Remembering Gordo

My Uncle Gordon “Gordo” passed away on Monday. Our family knew he was not doing well, but the undeniable event landed right in our lap Monday around 3 p.m. When my Cousin asked me “what do we do? We have 30 people coming into town and I have to handle the funeral arrangements. Can you get the food together? I said yes, and without a thought I messaged my friend Russ . Inside info on Russ, he’s an awesome guy, his wife Kate are completely adorable.

All I did was message Russ that I needed his help, I needed this to be a seamless, low key, no problem type of deal, Russ delivered in a huge way, for that my family that we will be forever grateful.

The ceremony was truly beautiful, but the execution at Thr3e Wish Men was as good as it gets. Everyone had what they wanted, food was awesome, drinks were full, it felt like there was nothing else that could have possibly been done.  http://www.thr3ewisemen.com

Thanks Russ, you came through for us when we really needed it!   gordo3

mjk

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Broccoli Soup January 15, 2014

That’s right veggy fans, Broccoli Soup!

As much as I would like to take full credit for this recipe I can’t. All the credit goes to Gordon Ramsay (you might have heard of him.) That gorgeous, half crazy, chef that I can’t seem to get enough of. Over Christmas while I was Googleing his Beef Wellington preparation I happened on this broccoli soup recipe and thought; there is NO WAY it’s that simple. As a dare to myself I decided to make the soup to debunk the recipe, like the tail wagging the dog.   Image

I’ll say it, I’m a complete &$#!*%* idiot. Not only is is simple, it’s simply delicious.

If you’re in the mood to impress your friends with a fantastic soup and you don’t want to divulge how long it took to make, or the complete ingredient list, trust me, you’ll look like a genius.

Gordon Ramsay’s Broccoli Soup

Ingredients:

1 1/2 bunch of Broccoli – you’ll only need the florets

Water

Salt & Pepper to taste

1 small log of Goat Cheese

That’s it.

Bring the water to a rapid boil in a 5 quart pot (water level should be enough to cover the broccoli.) Do Not add anything to the water – just water and broccoli. Cook the broccoli until a paring knife goes through the broccoli easily (do not overcook the broccoli – it should be slightly firm.) Using a slotted spoon take the broccoli out of the water and put into a blender. Take the broccoli water (you just made your own broccoli stock) and fill the blender 1/2 way with the water. Season with salt and pepper and pulse the blender until the broccoli blends with the water, then give it a full spin for about 45 seconds. Taste the soup, add salt and pepper, blend again, taste again until you have the soup to your liking. Remember you can always add salt and pepper, you can’t subtract, so don’t be too heavy handed. Image

Cut or crumble the goat cheese into the center of the bowl and pour the soup from the blender into the bowl. Pour around the cheese so the soup doesn’t cover it.

I’m not joking, it’s beautiful, easy, and delicious!

 

Soapbox * Disclaimer – Opinions Are My Own December 23, 2013

soapbox

Anyone that knows me personally knows that I have a slight, if not significant dispute with God.

Actually, it’s quite significant.

I sometimes feel like a hypocrite because I send my son to catholic school, even though I haven’t been to church in years. Not because I don’t believe in God (even though our relationship is very strained.) It’s because I don’t want to sit in the back of church sobbing, that’s why I haven’t been to church in years.

Look, I have rules. The two things I don’t talk about ever on Social Media:

  1. Religion
  2. Politics

Because honestly to whatever, whomever, you do or don’t believe in… I seriously don’t care. If I care about you personally, I will do whatever I can, whenever I can, if you need me I will be there to help you in any way I can.

Then I’ve seen all this crap spewed over Facebook and Twitter over these Duck Dynasty assholes,

Congratulations, you’ve got everyone talking about you. Good for you A&E!

I’m sure the hillbilly’s have never blown anything except a duck call device.

So I suppose I’ll break one of my own rules. Look, my parents paid a lot of money for me to go to catholic school, and I AM PAYING A LOT OF MONEY FOR MY SON TO GO TO CATHOLIC SCHOOL. That, by the way, does not mean that I agree with all of people that call themselves “Catholics” or “Christians” or whatever the hell they like to call themselves these days. It’s been my experience that all the heavy handed “God Squaders” (as I like to call them) are the biggest sinners. They’ll look you in the face and stab you in the back; unfortunately I’ve experienced this first hand.

Shame on you.

That’s right.

SHAME ON YOU.

Have you ever heard the expression “people that live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones?” While you’re preachin – you might start thinking about practicing what you’re actually preaching.

So why don’t you (that would be all of you barking up this tree)  just shut up?

Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t the idea be to LOVE?

Love – Beyond – Politics

Love – Beyond –  Religion

Love – Despite differences.

It’s easy if you try.

I think someone wrote a song about that once…..

 

Sometimes My Son Reappears December 13, 2013

We’ve had growing pains, Kameron and I. I don’t like that he’s not my sweet little boy that he once was, and he doesn’t like that his mom is extremely hard on him. Thankfully, every once in awhile that sweet boy comes back, if even for a moment. Tonight he did, and I thought I would share.

Assignment: Write a letter to a Kindergartner from Santa about Christmas.

“Dear Kindergartner,

I am delighted that you wrote me this letter of your Christmas list this year. My elves are working on making and buying all the other children’s presents for this year, including yours. Mrs. Clause is in her kitchen baking cookies and our feast for Christmas Eve, which is full of mashed potatoes, green beans, pudding, and roast beef. Our weather in the North Pole is freezing compared to Indiana. The polar bears are cold even in their fur coats, the penguins are hiding in their igloos, and even the reindeer are feeling like icicles. Dasher is running all around the house. Dancer is dancing his hooves off. Prancer is not prancing but pacing. Prixen is eating all of the Twix chocolate bars. Comet is trying to fly across the sky. Cupid is showing love to me and everyone else in the North Pole. Donder is bonding himself with joy. Blitzen is sprinting at the speed of light. Rudolph is shining his nose to show positive energy. Meanwhile, I am checking my list to see who was naughty and nice.

I am getting ready with my sleigh, my sack of presents and coal, and I will be at your house very soon.

Thank you for writing this letter of your list to me and have a Merry Christmas.

Sincerely,

Santa”

That’s my boy….

 

This Boy – Part One December 6, 2013

I remember thinking what idiots my parents were when they said “this is going to hurt me a lot more than it hurts you.” That phrase was usually followed by a whollap across my ass or in later years being grounded “indefinitely.” (Grounded indefinitely was a phrase that I’m pretty sure that my mother invented. It means that you’re grounded for an undetermined amount of time, lifted or enforced at will, feel free to use it when applicable.)

Kameron has not inherited my long-term memory, or short-term memory for that matter, which to me is extremely frustrating. People can make excuses for him all day long, he’s a man, he’s fourteen, it’s puberty, it’s classwork, yada yada yada… You can preach that stuff to me all day long until you’re blue in the face for all I care. The bottom line is you don’t have to deal with the consequences of his lack memory motivation.

Let me enlighten you. It’s Tuesday, BEFORE Thanksgiving. I’ve heard nothing from his father about plans, not a peep from Kam, so I decided to press on with our own plans. Those plans included Thanksgiving Day putting up the Christmas tree and watching football. Friday Samantha was going to be home and I planned on cooking our family dinner. Saturday my mom was coming over for dinner. Sunday was nothing, to relax and get ready for the week ahead. I went in to tell Kameron good night Tuesday night, he had this weird look on his face, I could tell something was on his mind. I asked “what’s up?” He looked at me and said “just wondering what I’m going to do on Friday with my Dad.” Excuse me? The two of them had made plans on Friday and just “forgot” to tell me about it. So I rearranged our entire schedule.

Tuesday of this week (I guess Tuesday is a bad day.) Kam has choir practice, it ends at 4. I left work, ran some errands, and was at school to pick him up around ten till. I was on the phone with my cousin, so I wasn’t bored, but when the clock showed ten after I started to get irritated. My cousin said “I bet he has practice until 4:30 and forgot to tell you”, I said “no way.” Sure enough, 4:30 rolls around and out he strolls with this somber look on his face. “I forgot” he says. I’ve waited for 40 minutes and “I forgot” is all he has?

Today, I emailed his choir teacher to make sure they didn’t have practice until 4:30 again today, she replied no, so I was at school in line to pick him up at the regular time. I knew they had a performance today at school, but had no idea that there was another performance at 7 tonight and he had to be back at school by 6:30. “I forgot” again. This time I was pissed. I grounded him. Which means no phone, computer, games, etc.

Now he’s grounded “under the house” as I like to put it.

You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out why.

 

Big – Small – Business – Jen Daisy Boutique November 28, 2013

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Small Business Saturday is November 30th. Who are you supporting Indianapolis?

My pick:  Jen Daisy Boutique. Just on the out-cute-skirts of Indianapolis – (129 N. Emerson Avenue, Greenwood, IN.) You say Greenwood? I’ll call your Greenwood and raise you a County Line Road exit where you can step into a boutique that really cares about you and fashion, and how YOU want to feel and look.

It’s all about you, and fashionable chique at Jen Daisy.

I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t know the establishment existed until maybe six months ago. Now, I’m a regular. Jen and her staff are kind, inviting, and super fun! They carry items for S-M-L-XL-2X-3X – yes, that’s right, fashion for everyone!

I chatted with Jen recently and asked her about being a small business owner and what she is passionate about. I could have done this interview without actually meeting Jen or being a customer because her passion shines so true, but I thought I’d ask her anyway, and I wanted a new shirt…..

Q: What inspired you to open your own business? ” I have helped many friends with changing their style and updating their look. I loved seeing their faces after we changed their appearance. It changed the way they felt about themselves and gave them a confidence they seemed to loose over the years. I can look at someone and instantly know what will look good on them or how to take them out of their comfort zone of dressing. Many girlfriends said I needed my own store; I decided it was time and knew I could take my 13 years in the hospitality industry to good use (great in my opinion) using a different approach to customer service. I am a hands on boutique owner – (I can guarantee that.)

Q: What do you want to accomplish? “I want to help women feel beautiful and teach them how to dress for their body types. (Don’t you love her already?) I also love having the opportunity to give back to my community with different fundraisers.”

Q: What charities/events are you involved with? “Meeting Professionals International, Gleaners Food Bank, Red Cross, CGI, Teachers Treasurers, Cystic Fibrosis Foundation.”

Q: What is challenging about being a small business owner? “Knowing you’re buying the right things and the right amount of items. I also think boutique business is a very competitive business, staying ahead of your competition, and caring about your customer is the most important thing to my business.”

Q: Just curious, do you have a favorite author or quote? “My favorite author of easy reading is Jennifer Weiner. My favorite quote is from Audrey Hepburn: “The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman is seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides. True beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It’s the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman only grows with the passing years.”

It’s so nice to have someone make you feel so beautiful….and mean it.

P.S. She has some bitchin deals on #BlackFriday – get there at 7 am (she opens at 8 am)

You can also follow Jen at https://www.facebook.com/pages/JenDaisy-Boutique/374911262592639?ref=br_tf 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Progress Report November 4, 2013

kam14Last week we had parent teacher conferences at Kam’s school. I remember going to my own parent teacher conferences, the fear, the dread of what the teachers might tell my parents.

Things were different when I was in Kam’s shoes. My parents couldn’t check my grades online. They didn’t get weekly emails telling them what my grades were. Progress reports were given to parents and the parent teacher conferences were so the teachers could hold our feet to the fire in front of our parents, or the other way around. It was definitely more intimidating.

When I got to school Kam met me in the hallway. I could tell he was nervous. Report cards had already come out, so I already knew what his grades were. He made second honors, which in my book is great, not so much in his book. He puts an incredible amount of pressure on himself about his grades; and pretty much everything else. Walking up the stairs I asked who he wanted to talk to, he said his home room teacher and Mr. Carter. I put my arm around him and said “I’ve told you Mr. Carter reminds me a lot of my professor Mr. Hanna right?” He said “yeah mom.”

Mr. Hanna was hard on me. It wasn’t because I didn’t get good grades, it was because he saw more potential in me than I saw in myself. He helped me get through school, when I wanted to quit, he would just tell me “oh that’s just bullshit.” When I went to school I was working full-time, going to school at night, and toward the end pregnant. I remember crying on the phone with Mr. Hanna not wanting to leave my month old baby to take finals so I could graduate. He probably said something like it’s 2 hours, get in there and get it done, it will be ok. So I did, and I graduated.

We went into Kam’s homeroom teacher. She’s very nice, saying that Kam is participating a lot more in class, and just needs to work on his AR (some additional reading they have to do every quarter.) I assured her that we were going to be working on that. She said that he was very polite, and respectful to the girls. I thanked her, we headed out down the hallway to Mr. Carter’s room.

Mr. Carter is an old school type of teacher. Instead of talking about what grades Kam had he asked him how he thought he was doing. Kam said “good.” Then Mr. Carter asked what he was struggling with, they chatted a little. I was looking at my baby having a grown up conversation with his teacher, I could feel myself holding my breath; taking in this moment. Then Mr. Carter said “what do you think mom?”

I told him that Mr. D and I were very proud of him, we’ve noticed he’s really grown up this year. Mr. Carter agreed. He said that “in sixth grade Kameron seems a little dazed, but he’s really come into his own. He’s more confident, he applies himself, he’s respectful to the girls, he has a real presence about him. You should be very proud of the way you’ve raised him. He’s going to Roncalli next year right?” I said yes, we’re very excited.” “Good, that’s good, he’s really stand out at Roncalli, he’s be a star there.”

As we got up to leave Mr. Carter shook Kamerons hand and told him to keep up the good work. He patted my shoulder and said “nice work mom.” An oddly familiar gesture, it’s exactly what my Dad would have done.