"You Get Everyone Addicted to your Coffee and Off you Go"

Why do I not own August Rush? Have you effers seen that film? It's amazing. It's moving. And shit. Sorry I called my readers effers. I mean it in the most loving of ways. I'm listening to the August Rush soundtrack right now and it's just improving everything around me. I think some imaginary grass started growing and imaginary birdies are singing their birdy lullabies all around me. What.

Medium coffee.

My mind is moving a million miles a minute this morning. I dragged myself to my favorite yoga class this morning and I am SO glad I did. Instead of getting discouraged and distracted by my knee injury like last week, I was able to put my worry aside and gently work though it. The result was an open mind and heart. Because I'm so zen.

I just realized I've called the current time 'morning' twice so far. It's 1:49 PM.

I heard today is the only day of the year that is a command. Get it, March fourth? I think that's just incredible.

Tonight I'm attempting to create MUSHU CHICKEN with my fellow cooking friend, Klapperita. I'm really excited about this. I got the idea from a catering event I worked last week where the chef was making little schezuany pancakes of spiced duck breast, fried duck skin, julienned cucumbers, scallions and a nice hoisin sauce. He didn't let me have one, even though I was standing next to him for two hours serving the steamed dumplings like a good little girl. Obviously I'm going to hold this against him until at least the time I die. So, needless to say, since it looked so damn easy, I needed to create these little treats myself. And who better to provide the free-range chicken than my good butchery friend, Klapper. I wonder what kind of wine matches this dish. I should really buy some sort of Asian beer, but I reckon I'm all beered out for this week. It is possible.

Should I start a food blog? I've been losing sleep over this question lately. Just kidding. Just kidding actually I've been thinking about it for approximately 10% of each day for the last two weeks. So maybe it's time. I need to brainstorm. And talk/email with other people. I mean, I don't know if I'm completely ready to join the 'professional blog' world. No offense pro bloggers, but it's kind of like joining an adult forensics team or a chess league in high school. I mean, I could bring the 'cool' to food blogging. The umph. The chutzpah. The glam. The sexxxie vibe. (I urge you to spell sexy with an -ie; it'll make you feel better.) The point I'm getting at here is if anyone has any serious recommendations or advice, do leave a comment!

Either way, it's going to be an experimental process at best. And maybe I could get my lazy ass back into HTML-coding and create a real cute-like design. I definitely have a good amount of artist friends these days that could help with the layout.

F, I am typing SO FAST. I am like Mavis Beacon's favorite god daughter right now. If you got that reference, I'll probably make out with you sans tongue. What an offer.

I hope at my funeral people will not say "Katie was a lot of talk."

That is seriously my worst fear.

See, I'm open and vulnerable this mor--afternoon. Sharing my worst fear with you weirdos.

Just kidding, everyone who reads this is neat.

STROMBOLI.

I'm sorry, it's the coffee. You know how I get.

I should hold a walkathon to raise money for my new blog. Not that it's going to cost any money. But I really just would like some more money burning a hole in my pocket. So I can go see "How to Succeed" on Broadway and vacation in India. Right. Top two things on my list. The other top two I got out of the way yesterday. That's right, ordering free samples online. I would be lying to you if I didn't admit I am expecting some free tamponz and a cookbook thanks to the internets. Now, that is some mail. I can put in a tampon while I read the cookbook. Oh my god. I just lost 45 readers. Or gained 45 women readers. Either way, I'm laughing pretty hard at my own joke. Go figure.

Have yourselves a splendid weekend and cook something good in the name of the spring season that is almost upon us! Ow ow! UNT

You are open like an open-faced sandwich. I am closed like a closed-toe shoe.

Finding the Netflix in my house is always like an Easter egg hunt. A really annoying Easter egg hunt where sometimes you never even find all the eggs. Or sometimes your roommate sent the eggs back to the Netflix company because she thought you watched them already.

I wonder if my landlord would allow me to house a pellet stove in my living room.
Is that a fire hazard? I mean, I know it's essentially a cage of fire.
But is it hazardous?


I'm sneezing.

I just returned from a 6-day trip to my homeland: Michigan. I touched a turkey's taint. Or grazed it lightly with my fingertip. Whichever you prefer. I brought my Nana some flowers and had a delicious lunch with her--full of many lunch meats, various cheeses and nutty homemade brownies. I ate my Grandma's stuffing. Two helpings at the Thanksgiving meal. Later that evening on a turkey sandwich. The next day for lunch. And later that evening for a snack after bottles of champagne and wine that I politely shared with my best friend of almost 10 years. I visited my family's favorite Japanese steak house. Yes, I had filet. How can you even ask such a preposterous question. I of course had to stop by my grandpa's restaurant with my step-dad for a light (okay heavy) breakfast. And I may or may not have overdid it with the Thanksgiving remix at my Aunt's on Saturday. If by overdid it, you mean two different types of stuffing, three glasses of Cabernet, pecan and pumpkin pie, biscotti, and all the other usual suspects (turkey, green beans, salad, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, rolls, etc.) But nothing truly compares to today. Dare I even put it in print--er---the blogosphere . . . okay, I'll just say it. My name is Katie and today I had breakfast at Hardees and lunch at Arby's (Mark's fault, I mean choice).

Basically what I'm pointing out here is my obvious virtue of self-discipline.
what.the.WHAT?!!

Anyway, tomorrow it's back to the daily grind. My stomach will cry as I whip her back into shape and try to shrink her size over the course of the week. Is butter a carb? Just kidding. I know what butter is.

I'm trying to resist the urge to get a bagel tomorrow. Every time I see the Empire State building from a distance, my mouth waters for a NYC bagel.

I don't think I'm very good at ESP because I just tried to will two different people to call me. So far, nothing. I ate some peanuts while I waited. The peanuts were good, thank you for asking. I think my telepathy needs some practice. And my telekinesis. And my photosynthesis.

I have to go before I get carried away. On a platter.
But mostly so I can go look at something that doesn't remind me of food.

To all my American readers, I hope your holidays were stuffed with cheer and gaiety.
Here's to the beginning of the December holiday season . . .
UNT

p.s. I feel sorry for tofurkeys.