'Merica

I have recently discovered some interesting facts about myself.

As I have mentioned before, the majority of my friends feel I am destined to marry a Canadian. I now know that I cannot. I cannot actually marry anyone other than an American. This is a very sad realization that I had to come to terms with over the last couple of days. The reasoning is well... the Olympics.

I'm kind of obsessed with them and I get really really American. As in, I instantly dislike any other country that is going up against the United States and I get very competitive. So competitive in fact that during the USA vs. Canada women's semifinal soccer game the other day I: almost cried, yelled, screamed a little, and was 2 seconds away from getting in a bar fight with some Canadians who were also in the same bar obviously not cheering for USA. Which is not ok with me.

So competitive that I considered canceling or moving lunch date plans to watch the USA vs. Japan fighting it out for gold today. Seriously? I was willing to move around my entire day with people I haven't seen in months and will not see again for a very long time since I am moving to Michigan on Saturday. All of that for a game I can DVR and watch tonight. You should be happy to know that I did  not change or cancel any plans with my New Mexican friends and am looking forward to a great day. However, I have checked the DVR settings at least 5 times this morning already just to make sure the game is actually taping.

I am rather ashamed of this crazy side of me. Especially because truth is, I LOVE other countries. I love Canada so much... I bought a passport just so I can go up and visit all the time since I will be living so close. Do you know how expensive passports are? It's a small chunk of change that I would not be willing to spend unless I actually wanted to visit another country. Which I do. I am also a huge fan of Italy because of my Italian roots and I often cheer for them and Canada in most sporting events... as long as they are not up against the USA.

I don't know what it is. It's some kind of competitive switch that I have absolutely no control over. At least, I recognize I have a problem. A problem that would cause intense turmoil in any relationship every two years for the summer and winter Olympics.

So, I am sad to report that I can no longer fulfill the lifelong dreams of all my friends in marrying a Canadian.

I am sorry to all those I have let down. If it helps, I am also devastated about this news.

If you really knew me...

This afternoon amongst my crazy multitasking... and by multitasking I mean watching a movie, watching women's gymnastics, archery, swimming, and diving in the olympics while not ever really getting out of bed... I received a call to duty.

On this lazy, dark, drizzly day fit for staying in and watching the Olympics, I would normally shrug off any call to duty mainly because I'm in my complete and utter useless stage. Actually, that is really the only stage I have been in all weekend and I surely do not wish to break my lazy streak on account of some formal call to duty.

However, this particular call can be done from my bed with the simple tapping of computer keys. All the while, the Olympics plays happily and undisturbed in the background.

So what you ask is this call to duty? Well, there seems to be a blog craze going around. Something simple in which you post about things people would know if they really, really knew you. My good friend, sorority sister, and fellow blogger Jenna posted it on her blog this afternoon and tagged me in the this blogging trend. So here it goes...

If you really knew me...

You would know that I cannot spell to save my life. I actually just misspelled undisturbed and my computer had to correct it for me. I'm surprised they let me out of elementary school.

You would know that I absolutely love soup. It's the best and most amazing food ever and comes in 20,000+ flavors and consistencies. My favorite being Chicken Tortilla Soup at 2 particular restaurants back in New Mexico.

You would know that I am completely and hopelessly addicted to 19th century literature turned movie. North and South, Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Little Women. You name it and I love it!

You would also know that though I love the above mentioned movies, my favorite movies include Fight Club, The Boondock Saints, Die Hard collection of movies, and Saw collection.

You would know that I hate knocking on doors and ringing door bells. I avoid it all costs. It makes me uncharacteristically nervous. If I am visiting somebody, I usually call them when I arrive. I'm sure there is some deep seeded physiological reason for this but I'm not entirely sure what it is.

You would know that I cannot stand cotton balls, polar fleece, cue tips, or anything of the like. Don't ask... I don't have a logical answer.

You would know that when I get really excited, and I start to talk too fast I shorten words and don't even realize it. Not because it has suddenly become the cool thing to do but because my mouth is going much more quickly than my brain can process. The most common is because... which I often shorten to bees. As in... "I'm so excited bees in two days my sister gets here and then in 9 days I go back to New Mexico."

You would know that the very first thing I see on a guy always is his hair. Good hair is the difference between a cute guy and a hot guy. And a bad haircut on a guy can ruin everything. This also makes me very aware of when any of the guys around me have just gotten a haircut. Even if it's a tiny trim, I notice. 

You would know that I need alone time. I am not one of those people who can constantly be surrounded by other people. Being too social actually really stresses me out and makes me very grumpy. Not that I don't love being around people. I do... I just need space sometimes.This makes clingy guys a problem.

You would know that I literally have to fight myself to stay awake in a car if I am not driving. It's torture. If I'm in the passenger seat, I definitely want to be sleeping. Five minutes in a car and I can be dead asleep and not wake up again for hours. It's not by choice either. It's a physical reaction of being in a car that I just cannot help. It's so damn relaxing! Unfortunately, this makes me a really bad road trip partner.

You would know that I don't actually own a brush. No, I'm not kidding. I do not brush my hair or comb my hair really. I have a pick that I use to detangle my hair right out of the shower but that is it. Experience has taught me that my insanely frizzy, thick, wavy/curly hair is turned in to a straight up afro at even the site of a brush. 

You would know that I love ellipses. You know... those three little dots. I don't even think I use them correctly most of the time but that isn't going to stop me!

You would know that I am excited but really, really, really nervous to uproot the only life I have ever known and move to Michigan... a place where I know not a single soul, in a mere 13 days.

You would know that I love my life, I love my friends, I love my family, and partly due to this I take things very personally.

What Up!

This is the story of how my life has been made instantly better and surprisingly worse by the show How I Met Your Mother.


You see, since 2005 people have been raving about this show. So much so that people often quote catch phrases used in the show. It really is an amazing show. I may even say it is legen...wait for it...dary!


But what have I been doing for the past 8 years the show has been airing? Well, not actually watching it of course. When it came out, I was only 15 years old and quite frankly I wasn't in to watching witty and slightly crude humored sitcoms. As a junior in high school, I was watching things like Supernatural (Jensen Ackles. Nuff said), Charmed (3 kick-ass witches), Gilmore Girls (charming and witty and I own the entire series),  House (when it used to be good), CSI (also when it used to be good and with the original cast), 24 (because Jack Bauer could save my life any day), and other collections of like shows. But I was definitely not watching How I Met Your Mother.


Time passed and I heard ravings about the show but I just couldn't make myself start watching it. By this time, it was already 3 or 4 seasons in and I felt like I just missed too much.


Then something crazy happened. I received a Facebook video post linking to a song entitled "Lets Go to the Mall" by Robin Sparkles. It really is a classic song filled with true talent and lyrics that will just blow your mind. If you have not, you must youtube this video. It will change your life. I promise you this.


Along with this video came a post of how I look and remind my friend of Robin Sparkles/Robin Sherbatsky... a character in the show How I Met Your Mother. Obviously I don't see the physical resemblance because Cobie Smulders (the actor who plays these characters) is beautiful, but  I must say the character does remind me of myself. Her complete inability to commit, her not wanting to have kids, her even being afraid of kids, and her passion for dogs. Only difference is she is Canadian... which may or may not be a difference since apparently I was supposed to be born a Canadian and will one day actually marry a Canadian according to the awesome friends I have.


One of her quotes is, "I mean yeah their shoes are cute when they're real little but beyond that whats the draw?!"


Which kind of sums up how I feel about kids actually. 


After this first comparison, I started to receive more and more, and I just knew. This was the universe's way of telling me I must watch this show.


So at the beginning of June... yep just 58 days ago... I started watching How I Met Your Mother on Netflix. And in these 58 days I have gotten through 112 episodes and am currently on the second episode of season 6. 


My obsession with this sitcom grew a little too intensely and actually kept me from being productive... a lot. 


But the biggest thing I noticed about this show is how it is affecting my real actual life.


The first time it happened was a couple of weeks ago but I shook the feeling off. But after last night, I can not ignore the problem any longer.


Last night my friend and I were at a bar, when this boy starts chatting us up. Though he was nice and not nearly Barney Stinson like I found myself finding classic Barney pick-up tricks, comparing our conversations to exact conversations used in the show. And eventually telling myself that this guy has no chance because even though he didn't "Suit Up" he is in fact a version of Barney Stinson. Not in anyway as bad as Barney because he was actually nice and appeared to be somewhat intelligent. Probably Barney when he first started out with his player status before he hit it really big... you know, at the beginning of his career.


And that is when I realized I now officially take all bar advice from Barney Stinson.  Except instead of using his advice to pick up people, I use them to spot a pseudo Barney Stinson at a bar and steer clear of him or at least have an entertaining night watching them with their ridiculous pick up lines, boasting, and fake-impressive stories.


Yep, Barney Stinson my bar guide... a fictional TV character. A character who sleeps with over 200 women and is in the kindest of terms, a man whore. A character who is played by a man who in real life isn't even attracted to women.

My life is so messed up, I cannot even begin to tell you... 

Foody

I've never posted about food before but I'm thinking maybe I should start. If there is one thing I love in this world, it's food. Maybe a little too much. I love it so much that if I had enough money and knew I would be successful business owner, I would drop out of the sciences and open up my own bakery. The muffin, scone, bagel, cupcake type of bakery. But alas, the economy is horrible and I am in no position to start a business nor am I a good enough cook to achieve excellent success.

But I do love to cook. Food is so much a part of our culture and who we are as human beings. It's what we do when we get together with friends. It's what you we do when family comes to visit. It's what we do when you have a good day and want to celebrate with something special or when you have a bad day and need a little pick me up. Food is pretty freakin fantastic.

It's gotten harder though as I grow up and move on in the world though. Food takes time to prepare... and time is not something I find readily. And sooo much food is not good for you. But lets be real with ourselves. It's not logical to cut out all of the unhealthy things we eat. That is just asking way too much. Balance and smarter cooking I think are the keys. So lately I've decided to try and maximize my food and stay healthier while also being practical with my time.

I've had several people ask me about this dish and I happened to make it today so I decided to post it on here. It's absolutely fantastic. I found it on yummly.com which is one of my all time favorite sites when it comes to looking up recipes. That and pinterest of course. You can find just about anything you could imagine on yummly and you can tailor your search to a specific food item or even to a specific calorie amount that you're looking for.

This particular recipe is called Gnocchi with Spinach and Peas. If you've never actually made gnocchi, you are missing out. You can make them homemade which I hear is excellent or you can be lazy (like me!) and purchase them from any grocery store. All they are are dumplings. Magical little potato pillows of goodness. And they are ridiculously easy to prepare from the package.

After all of this healthy talk I just threw at you, I'm going to give you a recipe that isn't the healthiest thing in the world. It has quite a few carbs (hello, they're made from potatoes!) and higher in fat but relatively low in calories. So it is one of those meals you make every once in a while... not every day.

So here is the recipe, and as I find good delicious things to make I'll put them up on my blog and let you know.

 Gnocchi with Spinach and Peas

1 cup of frozen peas that have been thawed
1/2 cup of heavy cream
1/4 tsp of hot red pepper flakes (I use more... a lot more because I like firey, spicy food but be careful because it can get hot fast)
1 garlic clove smashed... or 2 or 3 really. You really cannot go wrong with garlic.
1/4 tsp salt
3 packed cups of baby spinach
1 tsp grated lemon zest
1 1/2 tsp fresh lemon juice
1 lb gnocchi
1/4 cup reduced fat parmesan cheese

Simmer the peas, cream, red pepper flakes, garlic and salt in a covered skillet for just about 5 minutes until the peas start to get tender. Remove the lid, add your spinach and cook on medium-low heat until your spinach is wilted. It looks like a lot of spinach at first but spinach cooks down crazy small. Remove from the heat and add in your lemon juice and lemon zest.

At the same time, boil your gnocchi in salted water until al dente. About 2 minutes after they start to float to the top. Save some of the pasta water and drain the gnocchi. Add the gnocchi to your peas and spinach mixture. Toss together and add extra pasta water to coat make sure everything is evenly coated. Top with your parmesan cheese.

And that is it folks. Easiest meal ever and never takes me more than 15-20 minutes. I always save the leftovers and they make pretty decent lunches for work. Keep in mind gnocchi is much better freshly made than re-heated... but hey, it beats a sandwich for lunch!

Nutrition (per serving - 4 servings total)

Calories: 326

Fat: 14 g

Carbohydrates: 46 g

Protein: 10 g

Oh Canada

As you may know, I am moving to Michigan very very soon. As in I leave for Michigan in 27 days and get there in 29 days.

Needless to say the only thing I have packed is my shot glass collection... which is obviously the most important part. So important in fact that it took me hours to individually wrap each and every one and pack them nice and neatly into boxes before I left for the summer in Boston. Because really, the only thing I will need in graduate school are shot glasses right?

Who needs clothes, shoes, towels, bedding, toiletries and books anyway? Those things are overrated.

As you can see, my lack of packing seems to be a rather large problem. But I still have 27 days to get my life together... nope! I only have 3.5 really short days in New Mexico at the end of the summer to pull it all together. And it's not like all I am doing is packing... I do have other plans:

1. Eat a TON of food. Literally, I may gain 10 pounds in 3.5 days and I don't even give a damn. This may be the last time to eat at some of my favorite restaurants and eat so much yummy Mexican food.

2. Have lunch at Andele's with one of my best friends.

3. Have an all day happy hour extravaganza with some of my favorite people. Oh happy hour how I have missed you!! Boston doesn't believe in happy hours... no really, it's illegal. Reason #15 why living in Boston would be a bad choice.

4. Family dinner.

5. Maybe some hiking with good friends who will also be in town.

6. Dinner and drinks with the Sisterhood.

7. Bar time... all the time.

And then after all of that, I can possibly, maybe start thinking about packing. As you can see, I have my plate (and cup) rather full for 3.5 days. I even had to nix a dentist appointment I had wanted to schedule because clean teeth take a backseat to good friends and family.

However, none of these encompass a main concern. A concern of mine that has been growing steadily for some time. What exactly is this concern? How do I go about finding a Canadian to marry?


You think I am kidding. I assure you I am not. I have never been more serious about anything in my life. Which is saying a lot because I'm actually quite serious when it comes to school and you know, my future. Just those little things.

This concern of mine came about when I realized the pressure the world was putting on me to marry a Canadian man. The world seems to be very adamant about this and vocally expresses it through my friends.

You see, since I have been telling people that I am moving to Michigan in August I have gotten a lot of responses. Do you know what the number one response has been? Nothing to do with how this will be great for my future, how I'm going to hate the cold, how I will love Ann Arbor. No... the number one response I have received is that moving to Michigan will be the best thing for me because my chances of finding a Canadian husband have increased by 85% percent due to proximity to the actual country of Canada.

When I asked my friends why everyone who knows me believes I should marry a Canadian these are some of the responses I have received...

1. "You'll have a really sweet house in the woods in Canada that will be an excellent place to visit and do wintery wonderful activities."

2. "You love syrup."

3. "I know you really hate kids, Kaitlyn, but you'll love Canadian kids. There's a big difference."

4. "Not only will you have awesome Canadian kids but they'll speak French and wear berets."

5. "I mean, look at you. You basically scream F off boys unless you're Canadian. I wouldn't be surprised if that is the first question you ask on a date."

6. "You talk like a Canadian anyway. This way you'd have an excuse to say Eh all the time."

7. My personal favorite... "Obviously I need to use your son for his dual citizenship to smuggle Cuban cigars into the USA because Americans apparently aren't allowed to go to Cuba. I've got a lot riding on this."

And we wonder why the rest of the world hates Americans.

I am honestly baffled as to how this Canadian obsession came in to being. But seriously folks, I feel like I have a moral obligation, a duty to uphold and so many people counting on me. I'm really starting to feel the pressure of the situation. I may even have to put out personal paper adds for this issue... or hold auditions.

How hard can it be to find a good Canadian boy in the Ann Arbor vicinity?

I'm not sure but... Challenge Accepted.

Hot Mess

I have to say, Boston has not been nearly as amazing as last year. I am 100% convinced that I should NEVER live here. I love this city. It really is amazing but there have been some signs that are just too much to ignore when it comes to living here. It is kind of like the universe is throwing huge gigantic signs in my face letting me know this is not where I am meant to be.

It makes my decision about going to Michigan for grad school just that much better. Way better in fact.

What are some of these signs exactly? Well, I will list a few from both of my summers combined...

• Falling down a flight of stairs... twice... consecutively.
• Hurting my ankle.
• Getting an ulcer.
• Getting a really bad flu
• Getting a viral throat infection
• Getting an ear infection
• Lung congestion
• All of this interrupting my running progress.
• Rain... so much rain.
• Clouds all the time... even if it isn't raining.
• Experiencing the worst interview process of my life at BU (really it was horrendous. I was shocked at how horribly put together the process was). But I am so grateful for this because if I had liked it and decided to stay in Boston I would have been making the worst life choice. 

Mainly though it is all the sickness. I mean, I'm a sickly person. I often get sick with random little things. Even if I eat healthy (which I really really have been this summer), take vitamins every day, drink lots of water and do everything humanly possible to make myself healthy. It doesn't help. I am still bound to get sick eventually. It's just the law of my nature. And nobody is ever quite surprised when I show up with a runny nose, or a scratchy voice, or a fever that would make Hades jealous. 

However, the amount of sickness that I have had in just 6 weeks of being in Boston is obscene. And when I get sick, I genuinely don't give a damn about anything... except showing up for work. I'm pretty adamant about that. 

-Sidebar: Did you know that 79% of men and 84% of women do not feel comfortable with taking off from work when they are genuinely sick. Yep, go ahead and group me in with that 84%. It makes me nervous and stressed and for some obscure reason I think I will lose my job or get a bad review if I take off work. This is stupid. Nobody at works wants to get sick with whatever you have. And lets face it, you aren't even an efficient worker when you're really sick. And if your boss really truly gets mad about you getting healthy because you're at home puking your guts out or curled in your bed with a fever of 101 then you should not want to work there and I suggest looking for a new place of employment. 

Yes, I know all of this but I still hate calling in sick and I don't think this will actually change for me anytime soon.

Anyway, I genuinely don't give a damn about anything. Like getting dressed... who does that!? If, I am not at work I am in my pajamas. True fact, I actually walked to CVS to get medicine in my pajamas because I was too exhausted to put on a pair of jeans and didn't even want to be leaving the house in the first place.  

Ironically, I think I was hit on by the cashier... or I am being stalked by him. I really have not yet decided which one it is. Then again, I suppose if you're walking around in your pajamas in Boston you're kind of hard to miss. Especially if you did the exact same thing 2 weeks prior because you were sick then too. 

My life is kind of a hot mess and besides taking bottles full of drugs... the prescribed kind... I guess I am really not in too big of a rush to "get it together." 

Batty Boston

There are many things in life that I think I handle quite well and with a certain amount of grace, though I may complain about it at the time. Some of these things include working 12 hour days and 80 hour weeks though I would much prefer not to and am trying to wean myself off from doing this (as if it is really my decision). Falling down/up stairs... obviously this is not very graceful but it's something you must get used to if you're as clumsy as me. Sticking to running at least 3 miles a day 5-6 times a week. Cleaning. Moving to new places where you don't know anybody. Standing in line at the grocery store. Being on my feet for well over 80% of my day. Sticking to a budget. Being covered in rumen fluid and god only knows what else from certain animals such as sheep and cattle...

However, there is one thing I absolutely CANNOT handle and this is furry, crawling, flying, insects/animals or just about anything else inside my house that should be outside my house. And let me tell you, I've had my fair share of creepy crawly things in my day: scorpions, centipedes, geckos, numerous varieties of spiders, and even a mouse once which just about made me throw up.

So, when I was going to put my water glass away in the dishwasher late the other night I didn't expect a bird to fly less than 2 inches away from my face in my living room. This caused an entire series of events... me running to my room freaking out, waking up all of my roommates, hiding behind doors and running frantically away from the flying animal.

The next and only obvious choice is to call our parents. I mean what else do we do when you're freaking out and contemplating shooing the winged creature into the stairwell and having somebody else deal with it. So I get my parents on the phone and I blurt out to my dad that there is a bird in the house and I don't know how to get it out and we are currently locked in our rooms for fear of being attacked by birds. All I can think about is the movie Birds and my outlook on the situation gets drastically worse. Then my Dad pauses and asks, "Is it a bird? Or a bat?"

No freakin way... it's probably a bat. It's 11 at night why would a bird be in here. I don't have glasses on and I ran away too quickly to see if it was actually a bird.

And that is when all of Medical Microbiology comes flashing back to me and I think of the cases in which kids got scratched/bit by a bat got rabies and died. That's it folks. I'm going to have to climb my way out of my 3 story apartment because get real if you think I am going back out there to suffer rabies. That stuff is crazy.

So yes, it was indeed a bat. And it took 3 girls and one boy (my roommate's boyfriend) well over 40 minutes to get this crazy flying creature out of our house. In the process we manage to completely contaminate a trashcan, throw several pillows and tissue boxes around the room, and in the end accidentally kill the bat.

And don't judge me about this. I love animals as much as the next person... probably more than the next person. Once, I ran over a rabbit and I had to pull over on the side of the rode because I was crying so hard because I felt so bad for the poor little bunny. But I also love not having rabies. I've decided this is probably a really really good thing. So much that I don't feel bad for this little bat. It shouldn't have come in to our house in the first place...

Suffice to say, Boston has been making me a little batty.