Defunct Blog Meet Active Blog

This is where I'll be posting until I figure out what to do to revitalize this little piece of blogdom.

My Version of A Nightcap

White wine. Jelly Belly Sours. Priceless.

Happy New Year!

It's been a flurry of activity here in St. Louis. Dave's mom took a turn for the worse the day after Christmas, so he's been working with his family to help her out while she's been in the hospital. In the meantime, I've been working out regularly to beat the stress and work-off the three pounds I gained over the holidays. My buddy Laura and I are starting yoga on Tuesdays. I should be taking Spanish Wednesday nights and potentially working a fabulous part-time job on Saturdays to save up some spending money for Costa Rica and a house. Woohoo!

I hope everyone is doing well. I'll write more soon.

The Inspired.

I'm a lucky lady. I receive e-mails from Marisa, who's staging Civilized Disobedience Dance Parties in the Texas State Capitol and suggests we do one in Missouri. I'm all over that. Meanwhile, Jenna is keeping it real in Venice, Fla. writing a book about her grampoo, and taking the most gorgeous pictures I've ever seen, and I know some artsy bitches. Sarah is creating life over in Collinsville, Ill. and doing it without the epidural, twice now. Stef is romping all over the City Museum, turning down red wine and sushi, and still keeping it stylish in her fifth month of pregnancy. Christine is caring for Matthew as Robert is deployed for the umpteenth time to Iraq. I pray he comes home, as well as all the other men and women who serve our country.

My buddy Beth is studying all things nonprofit, narrative-y, eco-friendly, and sociological in the Sonoran Desert. The future professor still makes time for harvesting apricots and running. David A. is still spitting out blog posts like hot (Swedish) pancakes and sampling fine whiskey and scotch from his connections with the AARPsters. My Dave is playing upright bass all around St. Louis and making amazing mushroom ragout, lime-basted mahi mahi, and whole-wheat chocolate chip cookies. Jenna, my sis, is crafting art out of found objects and raising a beautiful, inquisitive son, Trent.

There are so many more friends and family I know whose graces and joys I could list. For all of those people, I'm thankful for your existence. It's sentimental, sure, but it's true. You inspire me daily by just being.

Must. Shovel. Driveway.

I love snow when I have no place to go and front-wheel drive. I know that snow really isn't interested in my thoughts, but I thought I'd give them all the same.

Working on My Fitness (as Fergie would say)

Does anyone else have that early gym-class memory where they had to do the crab walk or sit their tiny behinds on scooters and race their way across the gym with only their legs? Or what about climbing the rope? Or doing pull-ups for the Presidential Fitness Award? The rope put the fear of you-know-who into me, and yet I still earned that award many, many years ago. I also ran long distances. Now, I barely walk anywhere.

So, I'm on a whole new mission before the New Year's Resolution rush: To lose the weight I had begun to take off in Arizona (I've gained 30 back--um, this was in a year, folks--since moving back to the land of Crown Candy Kitchen milkshakes and Sparky's lavendar honey ice cream). I'm sick of this external padding, and I really want to be able to race up Arenal Volcano come June and not be worried if I'm going to die in the process. Dead woman in Costa Rica = No fun. I also want Year 30 to be the year where I realize healthful eating and exercise = unstoppable, sexy Kella.

Today, I started my mission with my workout-work buddy, Jyoti, who is a super smart person. What's especially inspiring about Jyoti is that she's a big-time exercise advocate. Yesterday, I told her about my pre-Missouri body and she said she'd gladly show me the gym. Today, at noon, we went. We worked out together. There was a mirror in front of the elliptical machine. I learned more about my body in that 35-minute workout by simply being present, talking with Jyoti, and seeing what all my baking and love of Hellmann's Light Mayo has resulted in: a strong, lovely lady who's putting her health and well-being at risk. Ugh.

So, tonight I'm going to the neighborhood gym to continue on in my newfound mission. I've also joined the The President's Active Lifestyle Program. Oh, yeah.

Who's with me? I promise, no crab walk, no rope.

If you're interested, drop me a comment and I'll send you an e-mail with details on how to join the group. We can track our fitness points as a whole as we move and groove to a better body. We're making it happen, ladies and gentlemen.

My Silver Lining (after Rilo Kiley)

Dave does things for me that I'm eternally grateful for. Such as run to the store when I find out there's not enough brown sugar for the pecan shortbread bars I'm making for work. He dances with me to Rilo Kiley in the kitchen even though I try to lead and end up stepping on his toes. He humors my insistence for a real, live Christmas tree. He even strings popcorn garland with needle and thread. He lets my cat sleep with us, and sometimes even lets Willa sleep on top of him. He's calm when I'm a mess. He makes me toasted pecan coffee at odd hours. And mostly, he listens. I have so much to learn from him. I'm a lightning bolt who sometimes strikes without warning, impatient with an electric charge. And yet somehow, some way, this kind, laid-back bass player/bartender is able to ride out the storm.