I just released the first single from my new solo project. I’m so excited for you to hear it. We had so much fun recording. My friend Chad Johnson plays guitar and I couldn’t have done it without him. The song is called “Using You”. Listen to it right meow!
“We read to know we’re not alone.” ―
We’ve all experienced it. A broken heart that hurts so much you wonder if breathing will ever come naturally again. Someone f***s you over BIG time, and you’re left trying to pick up the pieces. People can be cruel and life can hand you a big, fat disappointment wrapped up in tears and heartache. Oh life, why must you suck at times?
Do you need to mend a broken heart, but aren’t sure where to start? My poetry book, Thieves of Love can help you kick-start the healing process. It’s FREE on Amazon Kindle today.
I wrote this to help anyone dealing with grief…some of it may be unresolved trauma from years past, or it may be fresh from a horrible Valentine’s Day yesterday! Either way, if you’re dealing with the pain of a broken heart (whether it be due to divorce, death of a loved one, illness or a horrible experience), this is the book for you.
Read it and realize you’re not alone.
Grab some tea, your cozy pjs and snuggle in for a cathartic read over the weekend. It’s FREE through the REST OF TODAY, so grab it now while you still can!
Smash that download button and get ready for some positive vibes and healing!
Sending incredible love and uplifting thoughts your way…
Happy Valentine’s Day, guys!
To celebrate, I’m going to tell you a little story that happened 5 years ago, today.
My husband Jack and I had just moved back to Minnesota and it was our first Valentine’s day in our new apartment. He was rushing back from a music gig to spend a romantic evening home and, after several years of marriage without preparing anything special, I was determined to finally prove my culinary skills were up to par.
And I wanted to look hot while doing it.
I went and purchased a slinky white dress, lingerie, pulled out my favorite stilettos and spent several hours primping away, getting my hair and makeup perfect for the big night. We’d recently eaten bomb lasagna at our favorite raw food restaurant in NYC (Pure Food and Wine) and I, in my infinite wisdom, decided to show off and make some UBER healthy lasagna using the most nutritious foods I could think of.
This was going to be my first-ever vegan dinner I’d prepare for Jack.
I brainstormed up some ideas and settled on a “green” theme for the holiday, to be original (grin), instead of the normal red and pink. I bought green table linens, a bouquet of green Gerbera daisies, and decided to paint my nails a shimmery lime color to complement my sparkly stiletto heels.
I was pumped, convinced my genius idea of making a 100% veganized lasagna, using nothing but green-colored ingredients aka “GREEN-SAGNA,” would impress my man. In my thinking, after he’d tasted my savory culinary invention, he’d realize what a smart and talented catch I was, and I’d get well deserved bragging rights!
I’m ready for your call, Food Network!
Cue the horror music.
You have to realize, guys, that up until this point, I’d never baked anything before except pizza (which I somehow managed to burn). But I was certain that my brilliant idea of GREEN-SAGNA would magically taste as good as I’d envisioned it to look. After all, vegan muffins are delicious.
I was ready for the challenge (imagine the Rocky theme song playing right now, that’s how stoked I was). The day before I’d spent a fortune on exotic-looking ingredients at the health food store;
Seaweed (for lasagna noodles), basil & a green tube of pesto (for sauce), almonds, tofu & mushrooms (dyed green with food coloring, for “cheese”), and green bell & jalapeno peppers (for “meat”). Before I became a vegan I enjoyed my lasagna thick and hearty – heavy on the meat, can I get an amen? – so I got a lot of peppers as a substitute. Lots and lots of peppers.
I’d never tried seaweed before, but the sweet girl working at the store assured me it had a very “mild taste” that would be a good base for any healthy dish. (Either that lady was misinformed or pranking me LOL! I don’t know if you’ve ever tried seafood, but let me assure you…it can be called a lot of things, but “mild tasting” isn’t one of them!)
So, fast-forward to me feeling all sexy, preparing the perfect meal for Jack. I started sauteing the seaweed in water to soften it up, while simultaneously tidying up the house and, before you know it, the smoke detector goes off! Much to my dismay, my beautiful seaweed was burnt to a crisp!
Keep in mind, this was going to be my awesome cooking debut! I could NOT f*** this up! And it was Valentine’s Day, and Jack was due to be home soon…I didn’t have time to go back to the grocery store and start over.
I decided I would fix it.
My brilliant solution? I added some salt – what I now know is a lot of salt – figuring the clear crystals wouldn’t alter my green color palette, and would mask the burnt flavor. So I put it all together, burnt seaweed and all (with copious amounts of Pesto to cover the charring), and shoved it in the oven.
I wisely used this time to paint my nails, like the multitasking Betty Crocker-esque domestic goddess I was, and expected to have a wonderful tray of GREEN-SAGNA waiting for me. With my toenails still wet with polish, I lifted out the tray from the oven to taste it, and was devastated to find it much too salty (and DISGUSTING).
By this point I realized, horrified, that my cooking “skills” were scary. Paranormal Activity scary.
Most people would give up at this point and order pizza, right? Seems like the sane and reasonable option? But noooooo, not this girl. I’m MUCH too stubborn (and stupid) for that. 😉
To top things off, I’d thrown out our bag of white sugar a few weeks ago after reading an article on natural sweetener alternatives.
Honey is healthy and sweet, right?
And sweet is the antidote to salty?
So I lathered on a generous amount of honey, and opened the oven to pop the lasagna back in. Just then, my rambunctious (and WAYYY too curious) kitten, Fritz Von Purrmonsta, decided to explore where all that heat was coming from.
Hooman… I want know what dis thing is called “OVEN”?
He tried to jump in, and I screamed to stop him, dropping the tray of green goo all over myself (and my new slinky white dress), Fritz and the floor. Fritz panics, I panic even more and snatch him up to run to the shower.
Holy S***! Is seaweed or pesto toxic to cats?
I step in the shower fully clothed, clinging desperately to my kitten, and blast us both with a cold stream of water. This being Fritz’s first experience with water (and you know how much cats LOVE water flying at their faces 100 miles an hour from a weird silver thing thing above their heads!) he fights for his ninth life.
Very long story short – he scratches me on my upper eyelid and gets the hell outta Dodge, my allergies kick in and my eye puffs up, swelling almost entirely shut.
Of course, this is the moment Jack conveniently decides to arrive home to find a perilously-close-to-burning-down kitchen, a kitten going bats*** crazy, AND a curly-headed cyclops who looks like she’d been chewed up and spat out by the Loch Ness Monster itself.
Sur-prise!! Ain’t I SEXY?
Needless to say, Jack and I didn’t eat my green concoction, and my surprise was ruined. But he was a sweetheart about it all, grabbing some ice and Benadryl from the medicine cabinet for my eye, and cleaning up any evidence of GREEN-SAGNA from the scene of the crime.
(Now that I think about it as I write this, Jack has never once complained about my cooking, but has since volunteered to cook every meal we’ve ever eaten LOL!!! Smart man. I guess his Darwinian survival instincts must’ve kicked in full force that evening).
Anyways. What is the point of this entire anecdote?
Sometimes it’s better to give up and chuck it in the F*** It Bucket, than to keep pushing for something that isn’t right. Some things are doomed for failure (like my GREEN-SAGNA), and it’s a really useful skill to learn to say f*** it and move on.
Chuck it in the F*** It Bucket.
In case you’re wondering, Jack and I did end up having the best Valentine’s dinner a girl could ever hope for: two stale sugar cookies, a few crackers and orange juice from Super America.
A healthy gourmet meal at home, with me appearing amazingly flawless and talented?
Chuck it in the F*** It Bucket.
Moral of the story: Jack and I sat in the parking lot that night, playing each other songs in our car, laughing and talking for hours. It was one of the most magical experiences of my life…once I learned to let go and laugh about it, that is.
Lesson learned. Thanks, F*** It Bucket and GREEN-SAGNA!
Is there a moment in your life where you wish you’d just “chucked it in the F*** It Bucket” instead of being stubborn?
Here’s to a Happy Valentine’s Day (and a full to the brim F*** It Bucket)!
XOXO, Kitty =^.^=
“Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead.”
I’m losing my mind (in a good way). My blog may be a bit sporadic as I adjust to everything happening in my personal life. A few years ago I started a process I call Unbecoming that helped me lose 345 pounds without surgery, fads or diet pills. I decided anything in my life that didn’t make me authentically happy had to go! I even wrote a book about it if you’re curious to learn more about my journey…
But that’s not all that this Unbecoming process has led me to. Since then I have switched careers, changed friend groups, gotten off of most social media and have become a full-time cyclist.
I’m in the process of restructuring my entire life…and I still have more things on the chopping block I’m examining. Whatever it takes to create the life I deserve.
Change is scary, but good…as long as you’re growing and steering your ship to a destination you want.
I’m only willing to settle for a life that drives me crazy with excitement and fulfillment.
Which brings me to the point of this blog entry: YOU.
Are you truly happy…or has the daily drudgery of life caused you to lost your zest? Be honest with me for just a second. Seriously. Or rather, be honest with yourself. There’s no risk, no one can read your mind!
Consider this one question:
What’s something in your life that drives you CRAZY with excitement, or adds meaning to your existence. What drives you wild? Are you willing to pursue your most authentic passions, even if rocks the status quo to its very foundations, beyond recognition? Are you willing to do whatever it takes to live your best life?
Do you have the guts to lose your mind for a while as your new life takes shape?
I hope so. Maybe I’ll see you at the other end and we can have a few laughs over a cup of coffee and compare notes! Here’s to a crazy good life, full of change for the better!
Stay brave and beYOUtiful.
“All good things are wild and free.” – Henry David Thoreau
What’s that you say, my good Sir? Why, I’m quite flattered. How convenient of you to notice my latest offering, Mr. Thoreau! (ahem, wink wink)
Yes, that’s right. You heard it here first. My debut poetry book, Thieves of Love, is FREE on Amazon Kindle for the next five days.
And, upon further reflection, Thieves of Love is also a pretty wild book as well, so I’m pretty certain that means my collection of poems qualifies as a “good thing” in Mr. Thoreau’s opinion.
Okay, fine. I’ll admit it.
It’s safe to assume my boy Henry wasn’t talking about my free poetry book…however, I do think he would’ve agreed, just the same, that it’s a good deal for you.
And who doesn’t want a good deal? Only a crazy person like this guy:
Don’t be crazy. Download Thieves of Love for FREE today thru Friday!
It’s my Valentine’s gift to you.
Stay sweet (and sane),
XOXO Kitty =^.^=
Guys! Holy guacamole! It’s day thirty three of blogging.
In honor of the Big Three-Three (and because I’m pandering for likes 😉 ), I’m posting three dad jokes and THREE BABY ANIMAL PICS!!
What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.
Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon? Great food, no atmosphere.
Why couldn’t the bicycle stand up by itself? It was two tired.
And as promised:
For your viewing pleasure, here’s a baby turtle, frenchie and fennec fox! I would give almost anything to have all three (and a baby monkey and donkey), but my cat and landlord object for some strange reason.
Have a great day!
“You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.” ―
The Minnesotan landscape is covered in a fluffy, sparkling blanket of snow, and my teapot is picking up some overtime. Each month I schedule a day to do nothing but leisure activities. I think for anyone managing an addiction, eating disorder or losing weight it’s essential to give yourself a break from the rat race for at least a full 24 hours. Today’s a curl up in bed with the Red Queen books by Victoria Aveyard and binge read the entire series kinda day. Soooo good! I’ll be brief because I’m taking a day off.
Pamper days are the best!
What’s your favorite thing to do to recharge your battery? Do you have a book or author you’d recommend?
Love, Kitty =^.^=
“I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.”
Do you remember when you first learned to walk? Probably not. I suspect forgetting the process is a protective measure provided by our brains; falling ten million times is too damn frustrating! 😉
But imagine if you did remember. How many times would do you think you fell in the course of the first couple years of life? Tripping over your own pudgy feet, losing your balance, knocking things over, stumbling over those baffling rectangular mindf***s known as “stairs.”
I bet you fell hundreds, no, thousands of times before you finally got the hang of it.
Do you scream at a toddler for trying to walk? For attempting to grow, to learn?
Of course not, falling is a necessary and expected part of the process of learning to walk.
So why do we internally scream at ourselves whenever we try something new and fail? How else are we supposed to learn to master something if we don’t attempt it at all?
To walk you will first fall flat on your face.
To do anything you will screw it up…initially.
And then you’ll adjust. And adjust something else. And then, yet again, adjust yet another detail. But one day, after the seemingly endless adjusting and falling flat on your face it will pay off. Every angle of the failed attempts will register in your sponge of a brain and you’ll learn the skills to stand on your own two feet.
You’ll succeed after thousands of epic fails.
It’s completely illogical to berate yourself for doing the one thing required of all successful people:
Falling flat on your face for all to see.
So do me a favor. Fall on your face, pick yourself back up, maybe make a few memes of it and learn to poke fun at the process, then stand up and take no prisoners.
Congratulate yourself for doing the one thing every successful person has mastered: failing.
Then get back to work and SLAY! (After you pick the fibers of carpet out of your front teeth).
Kitty (aka The Queen of Face Plants)
“Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent.” ―
It happens to the best of us.
We hear the whispers of something trying to come out…pleading, cajoling.
The insistent murmurs of something wanting, needing to be created.
Whether it be a song, a poem, a painting, or even a string of code for a site. We hear the cries of a soul dying to express itself, to emote, and we ignore.
I’ll do it later, we tell ourselves. Shooing away that annoying voice in our ears urging us to explore our whims. We do it innocently, thinking we can tap into our creative energies when it feels more convenient, less risky. Next week I can carve out some time after the game, or some errands, or after the kids are asleep. Tomorrow, next week, later…
We press the mute button, and go about our busy day…our busy month… over and over for years. One day we wake up and realize we have made a habit of stifling our creative energy.
Eventually our creative instinct has learned its lesson: I talk. Yet, I’m silenced by the only person who has the power to make me heard.
And then, years later, we wonder why we never feel inspired to create anything genuine anymore. Why we no longer feel invited to contribute the the pulsating river of communal energy flowing through the airwaves and into our life; the ever-morphing Life Force of artists, designers, influencers, movers, thinkers…creators.
Why? We have told our imagination that it is not allowed to create. Not now, not later.
Genuinely think about it. No, seriously. Stop what you’re doing for a second and think about it. What was the very last thing you told your creative voice?
Did you brush it away like an annoying gnat, giving it lies?
Go away. I’ll deal with you later.
Or did you invite it to the table: make if feel safe, honored, and encouraged to create?
That’s a damn good idea! I better get this down on paper, recorded, or released into the world, stat!
Inspiration is a gift. Art is a must in the throes of an apathetic society clinging to mehs, memes, emojis, tinder swipes and the noisy drone of mediocre. Your creative energy is buzzing, desperate to be utilized. To feel alive and revered. It’s desperate to create. Can you hear it? That something bubbling up inside of you, squeezing your guts, tickling your curiosity, crying out to be heard. Can you feel it?
Listen to it for once, give yourself voice. Go on, give it a try. Commit it paper, canvas, record, film or whatever medium you’re working in. Let loose and don’t censor yourself! Please, for all of us waiting to be affected by the stirrings of your soul. For you.
I guarantee you have something amazing to say.
Here’s to unmuting ourselves! Stay beYOUtiful.
Love, Kitty =^.^=
Hey guys! After hauling myself around outside all day on crutches in the midst of one of the iciest days ever in Minnesota, my ever-diligent arms are shot to s***.
I can barely type.
So I will leave you with a dad joke and…wait for it, wait for it. A picture of baby penguins! You’re welcome. 🙂
How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh? Ten-tickles.