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A Thanksgiving in Chatham

November 28, 2011

David and I were enormously lucky to escape the city for a couple days and spend Thanksgiving in Chatham.  Our hosts were two dear friends who happen to be big-time foodies, which means we feasted like royalty. It was glorious!  Proof:

1. Aperol Spritzes, waiting to be spritzed.  [This was our favorite drink in Italy- thank you S & S for carrying out the tradition in the USA!]
2. A taste of our Thanksgiving Cheese Plate, Part 1.
3. A taste of our Thanksgiving Cheese Plate, Part 2.
4. The best B.L.T. in all the world. [Thank you Joel!]
5. David was so, so, SO EXCITED for Thanksgiving!

6. Our neighbors in Chatham, Part 1. [Take a time out to remember where you are.]
7. Our neighbors in Chatham, Part 2. [Anchor yourself in the present and enjoy the beauty around you.]
8. Our neighbors in Chatham, Part 3.  [Never forget your roots.]
9. Lighthouse Beach, Part 1.  [Look ahead, but don’t lose focus of the beauty right in front of you.]
10. Lighthouse Beach, Part 2. [Step up to the plate and take responsibility for your life.]

11. Lighthouse Beach, Part 3.
12. Lighthouse Beach, Part 4.  [Waves crashing.]
13. Lighthouse Beach, Part 5.  [Puppies playing.]
14. Lighthouse Beach, Part 6. [Love.]
15. Lighthouse Beach, Part 7. [Windy Janeen.]

16. Globes.  [The world is not flat.]
17. My lover, relaxed & watching his protege, James Bond.
18. Kinda like Thanksgiving Turkey, but better. [Oyster appetizers.]
19. Oh, shucks! [Scott did an amazing job shucking our fresh oysters.]
20. Oysters & garnish. [Skye made OMGAMAZING garnishes. OMGAMAZING!]

21. Seashell driveway on the cape.
22. Sinking, but not sunk.
23. Imagine.  [Life is beautiful.]
24. How was your Thanksgiving?!?

As always, my favorite part of Thanksgiving is being able to listen to Christmas music the day after.  What’s yours?


Relaxing with Pruney Fingers

November 9, 2011

I know.  I know I know I know I know I know.  You all thought I was dead.  You were like, OHMYGOD, KATE TOTALLY DIED!  SHE’S BEEN DIGITALLY MIA FOREVER AND EVER- RIP! But, dear reader, you are very very mistaken!  I am alive and well.  Just playing the internet spectator game while I live my life in the real world and touch things that aren’t just a keyboard.  It’s a strange concept, I know, but it’s fabulous and doing wonders for my stress levels.   But because I am a child of the internet age, I still feel as if my superfuckingfabulous life doesn’t exist unless I document it on the internet every now and then, so here’s a post about my superfuckingfabulous life.  Or, rather, a superfuckingfabulous thing I did this week that was expectantly awesome.

So, Mondays are my day off.  I used to “work from home” on Mondays, which involved lots of coffee, my kimono and Robyn on repeat while I pounded shit out for the salon and talked to my mom on the phone.  Then I turned 24 and promised myself that I’d actually enjoy my weekends and turn them into Kate time.  So far I’ve been kicking ass on Sundays and Mondays- you know, eating a lot of nachos and drinking champagne like my life depends on it (which, let’s be real, it probably does).  But this last Monday I decided to clean up my act.  I met a girlfriend for lunch and took trip to see Martha Marcy May Marlene (Liz Olsen is my favorite Olsen twin of all!) (sidenote: I totally met an actual person named Martha yesterday.  And she was younger than 40.  It was surreal!  She was never in a cult.), which, if you haven’t seen it, is super fabu-creepy.  That’s a new genre of film by the way: fabu-creepy.  Liz Olsen is totally going to win Best Actress in a Fabu-Creepy Film, btw.

After the movie, I met another friend for a relaxing soak at Inman Oasis and dinner.  Now you’re like, sooooaaaak?  Whaaaaatthefuck? Well, let me tell you, it’s fabu-fabu (which is a new genre of bathing).  So you go to Inman Oasis (super close to my house, yay Slum Castle!) and you pay $10 and get to sit in an amazing tub and soak for half an hour.  Sometimes you’re chilling in the tub with other people, and sometimes you’re all aloney on your owney.  Either way it’s totally awesome and the place is super clean and the staff is super nice and your fingers are super pruned and it’s awesome!  Really, it’s just like taking a luxury bath at home (minus the bubbles) except that you’re wearing a swim suit and sometimes there are people you don’t know sitting across from you with their eyes closed while they do breathing exercises.  Strangely, all my friends are super grossed out by it, but I assure you it’s fabu-fabu to the extreme!  Especially for girls like me with super shallow Home Depot piece of shit tubs that hardly hold enough water to cover your bum.  Once you soak, you will want to soak all the time!

So I did that amazing things this week and you’re probably still grossed out but I promise it was clean and restorative.  If you live in Boston and miss taking baths, I suggest you go.  I also bet there’s a weird soaking dating thing going on- so look into that if you’re single.  It’s probably super fabu-creepy!



Never Forgetting

October 3, 2011

I’ve been back from my European vacation for two weeks and I’m loath to admit that the magic is starting to fade.
I want to cling to my memories and savor them like truffles across my tongue.  I want to remember the swell in my chest when I looked out over the fields, the pounding of my heart when I climbed atop the mounds in Scotland, and the sweetness of the wind blowing off the Mediterranean.  These are moments that have calmed my psyche and made my fingertips itch.  I want to remember them always.

Remember the light in that church and the way the railing around the pulpit made such beautiful shadows on the floor.

 Remember the sound of the choir that drew us in- eerie and sad but beautiful, too.  You sat in a pew and I walked through to the back, enraptured by the soft light and subtle sounds.
In a small alcove on the right of the pulpit, I found a CD player with a collection box beside it.  The choir was not real.

Remember that dragonfly that died.  It was so vibrant, so green.  We found it in the sink on the patio, its torso and lacy wings stiff, its insect legs folded across its heart.
We remembered seeing it alive in the kitchen the night before and shooing it away.
We hoped it had a good life.

Remember how all the food was delicious!  Even the meals we made at home- eggy bread and cheesy pasta never tasted better, and will never taste as good again.
As much as we ate, we never got full, and as much as we drank we never got drunk, and as much as we saw, we could not believe we were actually in Tuscany.

Remember the figs that grew right outside the villa, between the driveway and the patio.
In the morning, we’d feel their skins, squeezing gently and testing for ripeness.
Their flesh would melt in our mouths and our tongues would work the seeds out of our molars as we ate them in the sunshine.

Remember how it was warm in the sunshine and cool in the shade and the air always smelled fresh, even in the cities.
Sweat rolled down our backs but we did not feel dirty- we felt alive.

Remember the afternoons when we’d drink aperitifs at small cafes and when the waiter asked if we wanted sparkling water we always said yes.  We watched people pass us by and noted their dress and the way they carried themselves.  We decided it’s not better or worse in America, it’s just different, and we wondered if we’d tire of European life, or if it would always present a unique challenge that inspired us to move forward and appreciate the beauty in everything around us.
We are still unsure about the answer.

Remember when we went to that vineyard and saw the grapes, tasted their tartness and marveled at the succulent sweetness of the wine they made.

Remember how we’d talk late into the night and our laughter would echo through the valley. Dogs would howl into the night sky, calling to each other from one farm to another.  The sunsets were beautiful and red, signifying another day of good weather tomorrow.
In bed, we’d pull the covers tightly around us and we’d wake in the morning with them kicked onto the floor, our arms splayed out and the sun shining through the open window.

Remember the grown men diving off the cliffs of Cinque Terre into the Mediterranean below.
Their skin was hard and dark, their limbs were lean and strong, and their feet knew how to manage the slippery rocks.

Remember the double rainbow in Brussels.  We walked on cobblestone streets and floorboards that are older than the oldest settlement in America. We felt comfortable in the shadow of so much history and tradition, and we wondered if the people who laid those stones knew how long they’d be there, wondered if they imagined people walking on them for centuries to come or if they were simply looking forward to a pint of beer and a stool by the fire at the end of a laborious day.
They were in it for the paycheck, we decided.  Longevity be damned.

Remember that we didn’t bring the right clothes for London and had to buy sweaters and scarves to keep us warm under grey skies.
But it was still lush and beautiful and the chill made us cold but drew us together and we found warmth between us.

Remember, always.
Never forget.

Here I am!

August 25, 2011

I haven’t written on this blog in a long long time because every time I blog for myself, I think about how I should be blogging for work.  Yes, I’ve ruined blogging for myself.  Or maybe I’m just bad at compartmentalizing.  Either way, I’m driving myself crazy by either feeling guilty or feeling bottled up.

So, David and I are moving to Slumerville.  I mean Somerville.  I mean, NOT BOSTON.  I’m having a little bit of an ego complex about the move.  Geographically it’s a downgrade, and not in the sexy way that Manhattanites moving to Brooklyn is sexy.  No, I am moving to a place where I’m legitimately afraid my car will be stolen, where David said he doesn’t want me walking alone at night (especially not in six-inch heels), where there isn’t anything to walk to except a pottery center and a Men’s Warehouse.  No bar across the street, no pool with lots of friends who always have coolers of pre-made drinks, and no twenty minute walk to work.  It’s going to take some getting used to, BUT THE APARTMENT IS TOO BEAUTIFUL TO PASS UP! You’ll  have to come visit me and see for yourself!

And really, (Mom, listen up!) I’m sure it’s a great neighborhood once you get to know it.  We’ll sniff out the cool bars, we’ll rub elbows with the movers and shakers- the fuck-the-rent-in-Boston types who moved to Somerville to have space (so much space!) at a really easy price so they can play their music loud and spend time in their apartment without clawing at the walls.  In no time at all, our neighbors will know us by name, invite us over for dinner and name their children after us.  We’re going to save money, drink at home, and live our dream(s).

It’s going to be magical.  Right?  Right!

And here’s some night photography from a couple weeks ago.  I was at a wedding- my friends got married and everyone got drunk and David and I snuck out back and had cigars (you would not believe the number of people at wedding receptions who come out and talk to you if you’re smoking a cigar!) and I took pictures of the flowers because the world was beautiful and I wanted to capture some of it.

Now I’m going to watch Project Runway.  GOODNIGHT!

Guys, I should have been born in 1950

July 15, 2011

It’s true.  Forever, people have told me that I’m an old soul, that I’m beyond my years, whatever.  Sure, I like to hang out with old folk sometimes, but more and more I think my personality reads this way because I have an allergy to the internet.  As I get older, it gets stronger, and before you know it I’ll have sequestered myself off in a forest in NH and will start making my old parchment, or something.

I wish I’d been born in 1950.
Except not really, because then I’d be old.

So, David and I are looking for a new apartment.  We want something that looks like this:

(minus the dog, obviously.  Le Chat is already too much for me to deal with!)

or this:

or this:

And we want it to cost almost nothing and be in a super convenient/awesome location. I guess you can say that I like to get my hopes up and then be horribly disappointed.  It’s kinda fun. I’m a tortured artist at heart.

Apartment hunting.  That’s what I’ve been up to.  What have you been up to?!?

Tassles & Ping Pong

May 23, 2011

I’m completely Mesmerized by this video: Sooyeon Lee: Grand Slam by Matthew Donaldson.

Vodpod videos no longer available. presents: Sooyeon Lee by Matthew D…, posted with vodpod

Cliff Walk

May 23, 2011

David and I drove to Newport, Rhode Island yesterday morning to walk the Cliff Walk as part of our training for the Susan G Komen 3-Day for the Cure that we’re both walking in July with some of my people at Avanti.  The skies were dreary and grey and perfect for pictures!

Cliff Walk, Newport, Rhode Island

Cliff Walk, Newport, Rhode Island

Cliff Walk, Newport, Rhode Island

Cliff Walk, Newport, Rhode IslandDoes anyone know what this rusty orange mossy stuff is?  I’m super obsessed with it (& with the purple seaweed from the picture above it)!

It was incredibly refreshing to walk along the ocean, taste the salt in the air, listen to the waves crash against the rocks, and stand with my toes on the edge of a cliff as the wind whipped through my hair and every neuron in my body felt so so alive, recharged, and fresh.

It’s no wonder they used to send people to the ocean when they started to feel ill, for there is something so restorative about a beautiful view, a sharp wind, and the smell of the sea.  My little 7-mile walk was like a jumper cable to my soul, and I returned to Boston content, blissfully sleepy, and relaxed in both body and mind. I should probably make a habit out of this nature walking thing- for it’s the perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon!

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