This. is. JEOPARDY!

Confession: I'm a nerd. But then you probably already knew that.

Ever since I was old enough to read, I have LOVED the show Jeopardy. I also happen to be quite good at it, if I do say so myself. :-)

I actually went on vacation to Los Angeles to watch the taping of three Jeopardy episodes in 2004. My timing was perfect... I saw Ken Jennings become the first Jeopardy contestant to amass winnings of over $1 million! I saw him win the million! They film three episodes per day, so I saw him on his 29, 30 and 31st days on the show. I wanted to take the qualifying test, but sadly, the process of waiting, taking the test, interviewing, etc. would take hours, and we had tickets to Universal City.

But for the past two years the producers decided to make the contestant test available online for a very limited time. I knew about it, but for some reason didn't take the test.

Today was an "ice day" here in Dallas, and after watching news coverage of dozens of cars slipping, sliding, and stopping on iced-over roadways, I opted to stay home. Jeopardy came on at 11 on CBS, and I seized this rare opportunity to watch one of my favorite shows! After answering 90 percent of the questions correctly, Brad sent me the link to the registration for THIS year's online test and told me I "didn't have a choice." He would make me take the test. (What would I do without him?! He's my cheerleader -- err, yell leader?)

Guess what: The test was today!

What timing! Of all the days to be home, to watch Jeopardy, to show off my trivia skills for my husband... and the one day that they're testing is TODAY! They offer this test for only 10 minutes in the entire year, and today was the day! So I registered and received an email saying I needed to log in within 30 minutes before the test at 8 p.m., or I would be disqualified. I remembered RIGHT before the test was about to begin... I was preparing to watch LOST and then realized it was test time.

So I logged in, and the questions started firing! Each question was on the screen for 15 seconds, and I had to TYPE my response in (not multiple choice, people!). Then the screen would change to the next question. There were 50 total questions, and the entire test took about 10 minutes. I knew the answers to 31 questions without a doubt, and there were 19 questions I either passed on or guessed. Not my best performance, but those questions were tough!

I'll never find out my score, and I doubt I'll get invited for an audition interview. There are probably thousands and thousands of people who take this test, and only a few are selected through a random selection process to audition. But I am still somehow excited to have finally taken the qualifying test for this show that I've loved for so long!

Geriatric Joust

I have to preface this post by saying I LOVE the elderly. I really believe I have a special place in my heart for the more senior generation, and always have. I want to befriend every older person I meet and learn from them... even the sweet little old man in Central Market who wore a bowler hat and spent an hour following me around the store a couple of weeks ago and talking to me about every item in my cart, repeatedly asking me to show him how to use the electric produce weights, etc. He was so sweet and friendly, and I just wanted to put him in my cart and take him home with me! (I do think he had dementia or something though, which makes me very sad for him and his family.)

Anyway, I have a HUGE respect for the elderly, and I love spending time with them.

But apparently I could beat up a dozen 90-year-olds.



This is the WEIRDEST quiz I have every stumbled upon (Brad sent it to me), and I had to share it! It's meaningless and possibly even a little offensive, but it asks you a series of questions to determine -- if you should get into a Jets vs. Sharks-like throwdown with a gang of nursing home escapees -- how you would fare.

For the record, Brad, who is trained in mixed martial arts, could beat up 18.

(Don't forget to comment and tell me how many you could handle!)

Crazy Eights

In March 2007, Brad and I boarded a flight to Seattle, where he planned to propose to me. We sat on row 8 of our plane. At the time, Brad – a math and science guy – was very interested in the biblical significance of numbers, and I asked him if the number 8 meant anything. He told me that in God’s word, the number 8 is often used to signify a new beginning… which ended up being exactly what that trip was for our relationship. :-)

How very appropriate that as we begin a new year, I was tagged by Martha to talk about a series of eight things. Here we go!

8 TV SHOWS I WATCH
1. LOST
2. Top Chef
3. Project Runway
4. Mad Men
5. Barefoot Contessa
6. Passport to Europe/ Rick Steves’ Europe
7. The Office
8. 30 Rock
9. House

I watch too much TV! I know I added two extra, and I could probably think of 10 more shows to add to this list.

8 FAVORITE RESTAURANTS
There are SO many, but these were the first that came to mind:
1. Texas de Brazil (Dallas – special occasion place for carnivores)
2. Los Barrios (San Antonio – cheese enchiladas and margaritas!)
3. Longhorn Café (San Antonio – best greasy cheeseburgers on the planet)
4. Black Friar Pub (Dallas - cheese fries and beer!)
5. Toulouse (Dallas – so French, with delicious foie gras)
6. Trudy’s (Austin – great memories)
7. Café Madrid (Dallas – tapas)
8. Deep Sushi (Dallas – Deep Ellum)

Honorable mention goes to Grimaldi’s in Dallas for the coal oven-fired meatball pizza I had a couple of weeks ago and haven’t been able to stop thinking about!

8 THINGS THAT HAPPENED TODAY
1. Woke up too early on a day off (Happy birthday, Dr. King!) when one of Brad’s colleagues telephoned him at the crack of dawn.
2. Ate mom’s sugar cookies for breakfast, then felt compelled to go on a speedwalk/ run with Brad and my hand weights.
3. Scoured the house for garage sale items and amassed them in the formal living room (it never gets used anyway!)
4. Enjoyed vegetarian platter at Fadi’s Mediterranean Grill with Brad.
5. Bought a tea table and a new console table at World Market.
6. Re-wired entertainment center (around our house, Brad builds things and keeps up the outside, but I do the electronics), then tidied up.
7. Shopped for rugs online and determined I had already spent too much money on home stuff for the day.
8. Practiced shooting the Walther PPS.

Veggie Platter from Fadi's

8 THINGS I LOOK FORWARD TO
1. Toning up my arms before Matt and Brittney’s wedding on May 2!
2. Starting grad school this week… and finishing it in two or three years. :-)
3. Going on a Mediterranean cruise in October 2009.
4. Being a mom someday.
5. Finding a new home and getting new furniture.
6. The rest of my life with Brad (too corny?).
7. Meeting up with my Kindred and her hubs on their year-long sojourn.
8. Retirement. Is that a bad sign?

8 THINGS I WISH FOR
I think I answered this in the last question, no? Maybe the question here refers to material things? If that’s the case, I feel a little materialistic answering… but this is Dallas, so here goes:
1. Mortar and pestle
2. Slicing tools – a rasp for zesting citrus and a mandoline
3. Meat thermometer
4. A really nice camera, and the skills to use it
5. Hermès Kelly Bag
6. Apple laptop (mine got stolen, and Brad uses the Mac we replaced it with for his work)
7. New house or apartment (long story)
8. Chanel perfume (I love her, and the scents are quintessential France)

I also wish Brad and I could move to Paris.

8 SONGS I JUST LISTENED TO
That would be the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack. Amazing movie, if you haven’t seen it, and equally good soundtrack! It awakens the Indian belly dancer in me and makes me “shimmy,” a la Fit TV.

8 MOVIES I LOVE
Well, aside from the aforementioned Slumdog:

1. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Le Scaphondre et Le Papillon, en français)
2. There Will Be Blood
3. No Country for Old Men
4. Sabrina
5. Beauty and the Beast
6. Any movies by Wes Anderson or Christopher Guest
7. Amadeus
8. When Harry Met Sally

I’m desperate to see Revolutionary Road! Have any of you seen it?

8 PEOPLE I TAG
No pressure. These taggings are good for me, because otherwise I probably wouldn’t have blogged for another week and this is good motivation... but I realize not everyone wants to let me tell them what to write. Don’t feel obligated, but I tag my friendly bloggers to write on these same topics whenever they're lacking motivation for original content:

1. Abby
2. Alison
3. Erin
4. Janette
5. Jashley
6. Jennifer
7. Meagan
8. Stephanie

Blog Makeover

Blog-readers (even the sneaky ones who post anonymous comments :-) -- I need your opinion.

As I aim to de-clutter my life by the casting off of knick-knacks, unused sleeping bags, and furniture that screams "FUNCTION!" -- like the media console I bought four years ago that I now find hideous -- I find myself also wanting to simplify the look of my blog.

My design inspirations are this one and this one, although now I'm mad that I've seen both of those because I'm really tempted to copy their ideas. (I invented dandelions!)

I also love Anthropologie's clean, feminine look.

But then I love my blog's eclectic, patterned aesthetic.

What do you think? Any suggestions, or other sites I should look at for inspiration?

Anonymous comments are welcome here. ;-)

UPDATE -- (one hour later) Obviously, I went ahead and played with the coding and came up with something completely different than I had before. Still, please do share your comments and suggestions on the look, if you have any ideas! :-)

UPDATE 2 -- Anonymous brings up a good point. Since I was hot to trot and already changed the background without letting you weight in, you may not remember what the old one looked like! It was this header image:

With this background:

The funny thing is, the coding to get the main wrapper semi-transparent and to get the background the way I wanted it on the old look was so much more complicated than my new look -- and required the use of an FTP -- and this one is pretty easy-peasy, but looks more designy, I think.

To the Lady in NorthPark Whose Whimsical Outfit Made Me Happy

Based on a True Story

Like a jellyfish billowing near the top of the blue water, with light finding its way through diaphanous folds, your skirt flounced in slow motion, a beat behind each purposeful step. You walked like a Parisienne parading a Standard Poodle through Les Tuileries – or even like the poodle herself – each footstep abrupt but delicate; intentional.

From the buttery leather of your brown booties to the grandmotherly chignon that betrayed your Carrie Bradshaw-like aesthetic, you were on a mission.

Perhaps you had just come from a consultation at Barney’s where you were commissioned to create some new artwork, a thankless backdrop for unreasonably expensive designer garments. The clipboard tucked tightly under your left arm may have itself clung to your sketches, lines on paper destined to become your next forgotten oeuvre.

You didn’t even carry a purse.

A man with tattooed fingers held a heavy glass door open, and you were off. You likely slid into a stuffy Mercedes or Lexus SUV and set off to pick up your stepchildren from private school, but I’d like to believe you sped away on a Capri Blue Vespa, skirt be damned, bound for your studio where yards of empty canvas await fat tubes of unctuous gesso and pigment.

Honest to Goodness

My wonderful and much lauded cousin Martha nominated me for the Honest Scrap blogger award! Read her list here. I don’t have her gift for brevity, so please bear with me on this long post as I list for you “10 honest things about me that you possibly do not know.” And make sure you read to the end, because I may have nominated YOU for the same task!

1. I am a wannabe vegan radical. For some reason I fancy myself a total earth mother, who makes frosting with arrowroot powder and agave nectar and coconut milk instead of butter and sugar (like this blogger does), advocates fair trade and lives super sustainably by making my own clothes and recycling my toilet water and maintaining a compost pile. But alas, I’m just not. Texas de Brazil is my idea of a special occasion dinner, and that’s as un-green and anti-vegan as it gets. I do want to live in a teeny tiny energy-efficient home, and to really serve others in my community. I just ordered a book on Amazon called Irresistible Revolution, and I think it’s going to help me figure out how I can live like a radical in my everyday Jesus-loving life. I’m pumped.
2. I was an overachiever in high school. I was vice president of student council, president of the National Honor Society, a National Merit Scholar Finalist, member of Thespian Society, member of Quill and Scroll, Varsity cheerleader (I quit before my junior year), yearbook editor, newspaper editor, even a member of the vocabulary club! And I’m sure I’m leaving stuff out.

A SACS Lion from age 5

While I don’t look back on those days wistfully (as in, “those were the days”), I do have good memories of high school. On the other hand, part of me wishes I had done less, because I kind of got burned out for college involvement. And on that note…

3. I love the University of Texas and will forever bleed burnt orange, but I don’t think I had an authentic college experience. I graduated early, and didn’t get involved in much except Communications Council (for one year), a student magazine and a free speech group. I also got involved with my church, but not until pretty late in the game. And I worked all through college, so that limited my ability to do a lot. However, God allowed me to have an amazing friend-for-life roommate in college, so I’m grateful for that. I graduated with highest honors, but I regret not taking full advantage of those rare years of being an undergrad.

Me and some of my favorite Longhorns :-)

These next few kind of go together…

4. I sometimes wonder what life would be like if I were still single. Don’t misunderstand me – I’m so GLAD to go through life with Brad, and I don’t regret marrying him for a second. I want to be really clear about that. I thank God every day for him, and for orchestrating everything about our meeting, dating, engagement and marriage the way He did. One of my top goals in life is to be an amazing wife to Bradford. My point is, I always thought I’d be at least 30 before I got married, but I met the man of my dreams at age 20! Just for the sake of curiosity, I sometimes think about what life would be like if I were in Paris and working as a journalist, or living in North Africa and working as a Peace Corps volunteer. Truth is, I’d probably still be right where I am, doing exactly what I’m doing. But it’s funny.

"So happy togetherrrr..."

5. I want babies sooner than four years from now (but I’m going to wait). Brad and I adopted the “five year plan” when we got married. We want to travel the world and finish grad school before other obligations enter the picture. I’m totally committed to the five year plan, but I have a twinkle in my eye for my babies. I can’t wait to meet them someday (Oct. 2012! Ha!).

6. I think Jesus is going to come back before I have kids. Maybe it’s the Christian school influence, but I have ALWAYS thought the second coming of Christ would happen before the next big milestone. I remember being in first grade, and Mrs. McGann told my class that in third grade we get to take achievement tests. I remember thinking “Third grade?! That’s so far away! Jesus will definitely come back before then.” We also lived near the airport growing up, and any time I heard the roar of a plane taking off, I thought it was the rapture. I thought Jesus would come back before I got married, and now I think Jesus will come back before I have kids.

7. Sometimes I want to move back to San Antonio. As much as I’d like to think I’ve got my stuff together up here in Dallas, visits to San Antonio and Boerne make me remember how much I miss my friends and family. It will probably get worse once baby Gaultneys enter the picture, but I know the Lord has us here for a reason, and we have commitments in Dallas that will keep us here for several more years. I really do love Dallas, and I’ve made amazing friends here… I just wish it weren’t a five-hour drive to “home.”

A dreamy picture of SA's Riverwalk, which I have visited probably three times in my life.

8. I have a long memory, sometimes to a fault. The good news is, I will NEVER forget your birthday. If you ask me to pray for something, I will NOT forget to lift you up. However, it also means I know which of Brad’s Corps buddies came to our wedding and didn’t give us a gift. And it means if you ever gave me a backwards compliment, I made a mental note. I hate that about me. Oh well.

9. I’m jealous of blondes. Gah, who knows why this is? Some of my very dearest friends are blonde (Sharkie, Dubey-Lew, Meago, Meggo, just to name a few), and I don’t have any problems with them at all, but other than that, I have this weird jealousy of blondes. Maybe it’s because there really is some buy-in to the “blondes have more fun,” adage, especially in Texas. But I’ve made it clear to Brad that he is not allowed to think blondes are pretty. I understand him saying that Anne Hathaway is attractive, because good night, I even think she’s a sex monster. But Kate Hudson? Carrie Underwood? That girl who dances on the table in the Bacardi Mojito commercial? NO. Not allowed.

Screen shot of the infamous Bacardi Mojito commercial

10. I’m actually really shy. That surprises some people. But yes, I’m a definite introvert, and most of the time I’d rather read a book or watch Bravo TV at home than go to a party.

So now I would like to take a moment to pass the torch to some of my fellow bloggers (including a blonde): Abby, Meagan and Stephanie. I’m tagging you because I love you and can’t wait to see the 10 things you’ll write about. :-) Now get bloggin’!

O Christmas Tree

I finally have a working cord for Brad's camera, so I thought it was time for a picture post. :-)


I love our dinky little Christmas tree. We got it shortly after our wedding last year. It's a four-foot, pre-lit guy, and we decorated it with these really beautiful ornaments we got for the wedding.


I like the way I wrapped presents this year: black, white, silver and red. That big tube in the back is not wrapping paper... It's an oddly shaped gift in a tube.

I think my favorite ornament is the funny pink bird at the top with the teal feathered tail. Many of you know my affinity for birds (not real birds -- just in decor, fashion, art, etc.). This was part of a really exquisite set of "ornaments for newlyweds." The bird is supposed to symbolize "happiness and joy." (Interestingly enough, a goldfish that came with the set is supposed to symbolize "Christ's blessing." ...?)

Brad and I started a tradition during our first Christmas together that we would make our tree topper each year. Last year was a lot of fun: a red paper plate cut into a star shape, lots of doodles, and some gold paint. This year was wood scraps glued together and bound with wire, with a message written on the back.

And here are a couple of pictures from our anniversary two months ago. Since I had never been in a limo, Brad surprised me and rented one. In the limo he also had our wedding cake, champagne flutes, wedding video, and a CD he bought me. We drove to a restaurant in Terrell, about 40 minutes outside of Dallas, where he and I first talked about marriage. What a romantic stud I married!

Having too much fun...

Restlessness (Warning: Long Post)

I’ve had this unsettled feeling in my heart now for several months. Like I want to move to Seattle, or maybe just Dallas’ Bishop Arts District; or go to grad school (more on that later); or start discipling middle school girls; or dye my hair fuchsia. Or buy a 9 mm and take concealed-carry classes (Oh wait, I’m already doing that. No seriously, I am.). Or maybe come home one day with my body all painted in henna paint à la Indian weddings.


So I think about all of these things but I still have this RESTLESS spirit, so much so that when I think about it my heart literally hurts. Like an aching for someone or something that I can’t identify. Like I'm grieving for something, really. It's not a depression, just a sense of loss over something I don't even understand. Talk about a state of confusion.

So I’ve prayed. Praying without knowing what you're asking for is hard, and even harder when you think you’re not hearing anything back. I have felt like the woman in Song of Solomon who searches for her lover but can’t find him.

I opened for my lover, but my lover had left; he was gone. My heart sank at his departure. I looked for him but did not find him. I called him but he did not answer. (SoS 5:6)

And it occurred to me… I’m not serving. I feel most alive in Christ when I’m serving him, and my top spiritual gifts are service and pastor/ shepherding. Maybe my lack of service is what’s causing this weird friction in my spirit. But what to do with this knowledge?

I sought godly counsel from an awesome, life-loving, astoundingly wise friend, who by the grace of God is also family. We’ll call her “Martha.” So Martha, irreverent as she may be, sat down with me over yummy, thin crust, European-style pizza yesterday in Southlake, and we cussed (a little :-), laughed about smoking on the sly, talked about motherhood (her) and future motherhood (me), and generally just had a mini heart-to-heart. Then I came out with it. “Martha,” I said. “What’s going on with me?” I gave her the back story, and she was blunt, as I hoped she would be (I’m paraphrasing):

“Hello? Did you ever think that this restlessness could be the way God is speaking to you, that he's trying to tell you to act on those sneaking suspicions?”

O-M-Goodness. No. Really, no. How could I not have realized that I wasn't just feeling crazy for the sake of crazy... He may be making me feel that way because I'm still not acting on his promptings. I didn’t consider that the Lord was trying to get my attention or affirm the longings of my heart by this aching feeling. But that makes SO much sense. ::: slaps forehead ::: Doh.

She had a lot more truth to speak to me, and I’m not giving her enough credit for her invaluable counseling abilities and insight, but I left feeling really validated – not only validated, but justified – over some of the nutty ideas that have been swirling. My heart and my head are still having a cage match with each other, and I have a lot of thinking to do, but today I really do feel a little bit better. I need to be in the Word for a while, and let some things marinate, but I think I can tell you more later.

I’m deeply grateful for Martha.

And for Brad, who encouraged me to apply for grad school, which I’ll be starting Jan. 22! It’s a professional program (code language for “I’m not quitting my job to go to school, don’t worry”), and I expect to go two nights a week. It’s funny how God works… in the middle of this season of spiritual frustration, I had to register for classes. I’m in a Master of Liberal Studies program, which will allow me to focus on art, French and writing (or as I call them, The Holy Trinity of Katie). But for this first semester, I wanted to have the same schedule as Brad so that we can carpool and spend an extra hour together a day during a time when we otherwise might not see each other a lot.

Well, I had to take a couple of required courses for my first semester, and the only other class that fit with the schedule wasn’t anything that fell into the aforementioned Trinity; it was a theology class.

Theology? Okay. I love Jesus, but theology is really Brad’s thing. I like Beth Moore and Max Lucado and John Piper… but theology?! But I clicked “register” and I’m in. And I have to wonder if God isn’t planning on teaching me something really significant through this course, which is called “The Spiritual Vision of Jesus.”

Think service might be a part of that vision?

Complacent Blogger

I want to apologize for my lack of blog activity recently. It's not that I don't have anything to write about... a lot has happened in the past few weeks, including Brad's and my one-year anniversary and a weekend visit by some very dear friends! It's that I just don't feel like writing. :-( Painfully honest truth. Maybe I will get the motivation to write again soon, but until then, I thought I owed you a post so that you know I didn't fall off the face.

Love to my homies.

Killer Pumpkin

I've never really liked Halloween. It's just not a holiday I get excited about... fear and candy are two things I want to stay away from. And I only went trick-or-treating once as a kid. But Brad LOVES Halloween, and he just told me he wants to put this in our front yard:





Yikes.

I am excited about Halloween this year though, because my beloved Kindred Spirit is coming with her husband to visit!

Random post... I'm on a conference call now and shouldn't be blogging anyway. :-)

Work Update

Hey, friends! I apologize for the long lapse in posts this time. Last week was a nutty week with a few late nights at the office, so I thought rather than delay new material any further, I’ll just write about what’s been on my mind: work.

For those of you who don’t know, I work at a public relations agency in downtown Dallas. There’s always something new to deal with every day, which appeals to me and my short attention span. But I’ve recently expressed an interest in focusing my work in one or two areas of “expertise.” That is, rather than working on 80 different clients – in telecommunications, higher education, entertainment, agriculture, food, healthcare, finance – I’d like to put all (or most) of my attention into one area. Or two.

Let me interject and say that I know I’m blessed to get to experience such a wide range of fields through my job. I’m grateful that the variety and number of clients/ projects I’ve been able to encounter have served to make me more well-rounded. But for the sake of professional development, it’s time for me to zero in a little bit.

I think I’m moving in that direction. I’ve been working on more and more healthcare clients, and the healthcare team is just unbeatable in terms of creating a FANTASTIC professional environment. They are great to work with, and some of the sharpest PR practitioners in the agency, I’m convinced. Here’s a photo of Alison, one of my colleagues who works on healthcare, making a binder for a beast of an award entry last week:


And while I'm posting office photos, here's a photo of me and colleague Natasha posing with a basket of flowers a telecom client recently sent us for completing a project to their satisfaction. We're standing on our desks:

I’m also spending about 15 hours a week on a financial client. Now, finance lingo is about as foreign to me as Mandarin, but it’s been a lot of fun learning. Plus, many of you know I come from a long line of bankers. Everyone in my immediate family has worked for a bank at different points (including myself – it was marketing though), and my father and brother still work for banks. So I guess it’s fate that I should have this client!

And I'm continuing to do graphic design support for the office, which is a lot of fun. :-)

But with the good news, I must report some sad news. Holli, my good, dear friend who I also happened to work with, has left the agency to pursue a teaching career. I’m so happy for her and all that she’s sure to accomplish as a teacher, but I miss her already! Thursday was her last day. Here’s her last IM to me. Not sure what we were talking about, but it sounds like it was good (her text: "that nauseates me!")! She sent it Thursday night, but I didn’t notice it until Friday morning, after she had already left. I had to take a screen shot. "Holli Williams has signed out." Tear-jerker.

And here’s me and Holli at the company Christmas party last year. Good times.

Sorry for the practical post! I’ll try to write again soon. Love y’all.

"Dew" Not Disturb.

It's finals week at the Gaultney homestead.

Dear Bradford has his first round of final exams for his MBA this week. For a man who admits he had NO study habits in college, I've been impressed at his dedication to studying for his economics and accounting classes.

Sidebar: Can I just say that I am SURROUNDED by studiers?! Brad for his MBA, Stephanie for the NCIDQ, and Caroline for the LSAT! I have such impressive friends!

Anyway, Brad used to be addicted to coffee. I'm talking, seven-cups-a-day addicted. We got a really lovely coffee maker for our wedding, but I don't drink coffee. Frankly, I don't even know how to make it. I LOVE coffee culture... the conversation, intellect, appreciation for flavor, the coffee house as the social hub of our generation... but I just don't love the taste of coffee. I'll drink it if it's covered up in gingerbread, pumpkin, vanilla and caramel flavors, but a true coffee aficionado, I am not.

I think Brad felt it was too much trouble to feed his addiction alone, so he turned to caffeinated soda. He doesn't like dark soda, but he still wanted to meet his daily caffeine quotient. And given the number of sodas he would likely consume, it should be a diet version, lest he gain 100 pounds during our first year of matrimony.

The winning beverage was Diet Mountain Dew. Neon green, with a questionable flavor profile of citrus and hobo sweat, it's not my fave. But it keeps Bradford the MBA Candidate chugging. This is what our drink fridge looks like today, though most of the time it has a couple of two-liters stashed in there as well (look at the bottom row):


And here's what the counter looked like when I came home Saturday night after Brad had spent all day studying:


I'm so proud of him for studying, but I'm going to add up the money I spend on Dew each month and start invoicing him!!!

But seriously, he's taking a final RIGHT NOW and I'm praying for him as soon as I finish this post. Please pray too if you read this before 10 p.m. on Monday! :-) Love y'all!

Y'ALL.

I'm so sorry to have posted a happy blog post about Rupert the Muntjac deer (below) prematurely. It seems our little champ just wasn't ready for this world. He has earned his deer-angel wings and flown away to be with his mama in Deer Heaven.

Click here for the full story. :-(

Deer Readers,

I'm an unfaithful blogger this week. I know I am, and I am sorry! I could make up excuses... some legit (like that I've been staying at work a little later this week and still have a lot to do when I get home), some silly (like that it's dark outside when I get home so I can't run which means no endorphins which means no happy blog post).

But I won't. (Or did I already?)

I don't feel motivated to write original content just yet, so I'm going to more or less repackage a very "deer" story. Maybe I'll come up with something personal and new and write about it tomorrow.

Anyway, the headline of this post is not a typo. I came across the SWEETEST little photos on the Interwebs and wanted to share it with those of you who need a cuddly lift to kick off the weekend. And if you're in need of additional snuggly vibes, I always recommend cuteoverload.com for that extra pick-me-up.

This is Rupert, a Muntjac fawn:



Rupert was born three weeks early, after his mama was hit by a car and went into labor. Veterinarians tried to save Mrs. Muntjac, but unfortunately she couldn't hang on. Thus, Rupert was delivered via Caesarean section.

He was just six inches tall and weighed 500 grams (17.6 ounces; less than a pound!) when he was born.

He has been thriving at Tiggywinkles Wildlife Hospital (awesome cuddly name, by the way) in Buckinghamshire, England, and will make a full recovery after his dramatic arrival. He is just over a week old now, and opened his eyes for the first time a couple of days ago.

I just loved the story of this little fighter! Wouldn't this make a good Disney cartoon? Like Bambi for the modern age...

Sweet Weekend

If only all weekends could be this simple and sweet. 'Twas a weekend of:

• Listening to presidential debates on radio (old-school)
• Grilled turkey-guacamole-swiss sandwiches
• Driving around Dallas helping Brad take pictures of gas stations (work)
• No makeup
• Messy hair
• Banana crumb muffins, straight out of the oven
• Working in the backyard with Brad
• Gardening
• 11-month anniversary
• Cleaning the house
• Netflix
• Relevant church and fellowship
• Laundry (even though I missed a pen in Brad's pocket with unfortunate consequences...)
• Sore muscles
• Fixing a leak
• Soothing my soul with David Crowder Band
• Speedwalking with hand weights
• Drawing
• "Mad Men" on AMC

Tomorrow I have to wear a suit. :-(

Tu t'amuse.

Stumbled across this brilliant video that anyone who depended on Babelfish (or Google Translate, etc.) while learning a language can appreciate.

These people wrote a script for a brief (3 minute) film. Then they translated the text FROM English, TO French, then TO German... then back TO French, and back to English. The result is hilarious! You need to read the "subtitles" while listening to the actors... Enjoy!

(Favorite line: "I was put in failuuuure.")

Nonsense

I am convinced that my husband knows every song out there. We'll be driving through East Texas and a random bluegrass song from the 1950s will come on the radio, and he will be able to more or less sing along.

Or we'll be walking through GAP and some cheesy little teenage angst love song comes on, and he whines along in unison.

I've never even heard these songs, so sometimes I'm impressed by his music knowledge. But half the time -- no, more like 90 percent of the time -- he makes the lyrics up. They're phonetic, but they're usually WAY off. For example, Bruce Springsteen's "Blinded by the Light" is completely butchered by Brad. The actual lyrics are:

Blinded by the light,
Revved up like a deuce,
Another runner in the night..

But the way Brad sings it, it's:

Blinded by the light,
Wrapped up like a douche,
Another running uhhh-nuh night!

For YEARS, he actually thought those were the words. Seriously. Srsly.

Most of the time it's cute, but sometimes I can't believe that he doesn't know the words to these songs. Like, I get the feeling he'll just start singing whatever he wants.

Leona Lewis' "Bleeding Love" may become:

I don't care what they say I'm uhh- luhhhhhh- you.
They try to tear me apart, but I uhhh- luhhhhh you.
Keep thinking, keep, keep sinking in luhhh,
I keep dreaming, keep, keep dreaming uh-huh...

Anyway, Brad is studying at Starbucks right now and listening to Coldplay. Apparently he was wishing he could serenade me, because I returned to my computer a moment ago and was simultaneously entertained and horrified by what was on my G-chat... Coldplay lyrics. Butchered. Nay, massacred. I'm going to put the actual line, followed immediately by Brad's version in red, for two of the songs.

"Clocks"

Lights go out and I can’t be saved
lights go out and a camping slave
Brought me down upon my knees
bought me down - oh I beg and please

Shoot an apple off my head
hoot an apple off my head

And a, trouble that can’t be named
trouble trouble can't be named.
Tigers waitin’ to be tamed
Tigers waiting to be swinged

Confusion never stops
cold fusion never stops,
Closing walls and ticking clocks
all the stuff clocks

Curse missed opportunities
curse stop, my chin-a-neese

Home, home, where I wanted to go
Comb, where I want it to be.

"Green Eyes"

Honey you are a rock
honey you are a rock
Upon which I stand...
pun witch I stan...

That green eyes, yeah the spotlight, shines upon you...
the green I's, yeah the spark light, shins up on you
I came here with a load
i came here with a lobe
And it feels so much lighter, now I’ve met you...
and it feels so much lighter now I metchu...

Sighhh... What a crazy, goofy man I have married. :-) Thanks for indulging me.

We Did It!

Just wanted to give a little update on the "90 by '09" Campaign. As of last weekend, I surpassed 90 profile views! Thanks for your help in bolstering my self e-steem (Internet self esteem).

As a little reward, please enjoy this Jackson Pollock widget. Run your mouse across to splatter paint, and click to change paint colors.



Thank you for your help and your clicks! :-)

Shoulda Been German

I know I’m Italian. My mom’s family is from Sicily, land of gypsies and mobsters. :-) My dad’s family is from England (my maiden name is Thorne), with a little Scottish and Irish thrown into the mix.

I always wished I was French, but I don’t think I have a drop of French blood in me. Knowing my love for La Belle France, Brad told me while we were dating that the name “Gaultney” is thought to have originated from French tribes (Gaul, like early France). But he has since confessed that it’s probably Welsh. Boo.

About once a year though, I think I’m embodied by the spirit of a German woman. I grew up in South Central Texas, which has lots of German influence, so Oktoberfests, Wurstfest and German towns like Kerrville, Fredericksburg and New Braunfels bring back sweet memories for me.

Addison hosted its annual Oktoberfest celebration this weekend, and Brad and I had a great time. He did his research and figured out that if you reserve a room at the Hampton Inn for $49.00, you get:

• Two free tickets to the festival
• $10 in food coupons
• A “deluxe” beer stein

That's not to mention the hot breakfast the next morning and HBO! ;-) Ha.

Since the hotel was within walking distance from the festivities, we went for it! It was a really nice Hampton Inn that felt a lot more like the chain’s older brother, the Hilton. So together Brad and I celebrated our first “stay-cation.” Ha!

We ate good German food – brats, schnitzel, streudel, kraut, etc. – and drank good German beer. We rode a Ferris wheel, I got a temporary tattoo of a dove (lame, I know), we listened to German folk music and people-watched.

When we walked back to the hotel there were a bunch of Addison Police Department cars in front of the hotel… Apparently some guests had enjoyed Oktoberfest a little too much and were being rowdy when they returned to the hotel. Anyway, one of the police officers who responded to the scene was a friend of Brad’s from college and we stopped and talked to him for a couple of minutes. Funny coincidence.

Here are some pics from our time at the festival. Loved it! Really sweet, light-hearted fun with my best friend.



I spent the morning of the festival baking bread at home to get into the German spirit. I went with a braided yeast loaf with sea salt on top. Yummo!

Ode to Fro-Yo

I’m trying to listen to my body more. In the same way that pregnant women get telltale signs of vitamin deficiencies by their cravings – like women with iron deficiencies may crave chalk, dirt or even laundry detergent (a condition called pica) – I’m trying to train myself to listen to my body’s cues in terms of ways I should adjust my diet.

Some girls crave breadsticks or cake or donuts. None of those things really tempt me. I always tend to crave red meat and cheese. But for the past couple of weeks, I’ve been craving yogurt! I think it’s because I don’t get enough calcium, and all the women in my family end up with osteoporosis. My mom has osteopenia right now, the precursor to osteoporosis, and she’s still quite young!

(It may just be an old wives' tale that cravings signal a nutritional need, but as long as my stomach/ brain are prompting me to eat healthy things, I'll listen!)

I went to the doctor on Monday and asked him what he thinks about probiotics. I’ve been hearing so much about them lately and how they’re just healthy body miracle-workers, and I wondered if I should pick up powder or something from GNC. He said he believes in them, but that the yogurts that have probiotics in them (Activia, DanActive, etc.) are just as good as the powders and pills.

So yesterday I went to Wal-Mart and went on a yogurt-buying spree!



My love for yogurt began in France, where my French family had a serving after dinner each night. Click here to read my blog post about French people and yogurt.

Then, during Stephanie’s Dallas visit this spring, we happened upon an old-school frozen yogurt (fro-yo) place, Natsumi. I guess old-school isn’t really the right word. Its contemporary interior with white leather Barcelona chairs, concrete floors and Calypso blue accent wall makes it very up-to-date. But the yogurt pays tribute to the way frozen yogurt is SUPPOSED to taste – not like sorbet, not like light ice cream – but like yogurt! It has a sweet but tart taste, it’s fat free, and it has those live active cultures that are good for you!

In the spirit of Natsumi (or Pinkberry, OrangeCup, or whichever fro-yo purveyor you prefer), I decided to make my own frozen yogurt last night. I took two containers of the plain Greek yogurt my grocery store carries – about six cups – and to it I added one part Splenda and one part sugar, about three-fourths of a cup each (1.5 cups total). Then I added a little bit of vanilla extract, maybe a teaspoon and a half, poured it into my ice cream machine and let ‘er rip for about 25 minutes.

The result: even BETTER yogurt than Natsumi! It came out of the ice cream machine with perfect consistency, but after storing it in the freezer overnight, it was a little too hard this morning. In fact, I had to let it thaw for about 45 minutes before it was scoopable.

Here’s my breakfast: fat-free, low-sugar vanilla frozen yogurt with blueberries on top. :-)