Kelly B.com

My bestie Amanda is moving. I'm trying to pick my jaw off the floor and then I'm trying not to be selfish and obnoxious. Things which are difficult for me because I genuinely don't want her to go, but I think that it's a good opportunity for her. I will however miss going out to eat with her, having endlessly unfocused conversations that snake between a dozen different topics, and cooking together. She'll be muchly missed by this Kelly. I know she's a little misunderstood, but I like it. I like her eccentric nature. I think it's a colorful splash of excitement in an otherwise boring and conservative dull world full of khaki pants and polo shirts. I hate saying goodbye, (although given my history with death this year I suppose I should be a veteran at this) but at least I can always hop a plane and visit her. It could be worse. And selfishness aside I think it's due time that she get out. Staying the course has made her miserable. And if you'r...

People. Please stop dying. My little heart just can't take it. Rest in Peace, Carol Ann....and everyone else.

The 2nd house thing fell through. I'm sad for Trevor because he really seemed to love it. But I'm sure there'll be others. On the bright side, my husband has ripped up the boards on the back deck and is now in the mist of replacing them with the assistance of his bro Devin. The cabinets are finally repainted and all placed back where they belong, so thankfully the kitchen looks less like a construction zone. The same can now no longer be said of our back deck/entryway, but progress is progress. The deck was beginning to rot anyway. The house itself is over 100 years old, so you have to expect that with the charming quaintness you inherit a few repairs. It must be deck re-do time because my dad just finished repainting his an incredibly bright light blue. I kind of wonder about the color selection, but Dad insists it's great. Dad takes some serious pride in his handiwork. Mom gets frustrated that it seems to take 5 times longer than it should to be completed, but...

Sooo , I only just broke open the box of my pressure cooker and used it. I got this pressure cooker as a bridal shower gift about this exact same time LAST YEAR. This clearly just goes to show that I did not deserve to receive so many gifts because I might be 80 years old by the time I break into everything I was gifted and use it. Mind you, I'm grateful for everything, I just might not live to use it all. And this was one of the things I genuinely wanted to have because I was curious how it'd work. In fact it's pretty rad. It's like a crock pot, only without all that pesky waiting time of slowly cooking all day. I do however have to admit that I was intimidated by using it. I've seen a lot of cartoons in my youth where it blows up and expels its contents all over the room. I'm sure a lot of other people tend to feel the same way; I've never seen anyone actually use one on any cooking show, my mother's never used one and my friends never make any...

Today? Someone else gets to wrestle with my chaotic mop of hair. Don't be too excited, I'm being boring and just getting a trim. I'm still committed to having long loose tussled-on-purpose hair. I'm psyched for salon time though. I'm a very recent convert; before the wedding you would pretty much have to drag me to get a hair cut because it was unfun and mildly stressful to pick a style. But now I dig it, I think I found a good stylist that "gets me." In fact it's the girl who did my hair for my wedding and I've been going back to her since then because she's so nice and makes me feel so welcome. Plus she totally hooks me up. I love it. I recommend her to local friends but I'll refrain from doing that via internets for fear I'll never be able to book a haircut without a 3 week wait. (P.S.: I am selfish.) My hair history: I started off bald, I stayed pretty boyish looking until 5. I'm not ashamed to admit this because it...