Tag: red wine and advertising

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from the publisher february/march 2025

Apparently, when we said the next issue of Luxury Home Magazine would be our Winter issue, the Lowcountry took it as a challenge and gave us the first snow in eight years!

Charleston turned into a winter wonderland with snow angels on King Street, sleds hitched to cars gliding down streets, and the usual joggers on the Ravenel Bridge swapped for ambitious snowboarding attempts. Even the city’s iconic wrought iron gates became portals to snowy blankets covering perfectly manicured lawns, proving that this city knows how to make the most of a rare snowfall.

Looking ahead into the new year, the luxury home market is infused with a sense of positivity and innovation. I find myself excited about the endless exploration of refined living that inspires us to dream bigger. Maybe it’s that I am a hopeless romantic – or perhaps it’s because I’m a Gamecock.

To me, they are one in the same. For now, I’m going to continue to celebrate those three points.

I invite you to view this issue as your gateway to inspiration, showcasing the beauty, sophistication, and creativity that define the Lowcountry’s most extraordinary homes.

A little aside: If you’re reading this note, and your gorgeous luxury home is on the market, but isn’t featured within the pages of this beautiful publication- please understand that your exclusion was obviously an oversight. Rest assured; this can be corrected. This is your opportunity to speak with your favorite realtor about how to reach the top 1%.

As the luxury market continues to evolve, we find timeless elegance blending with modern priorities. Economic recovery is driving renewed confidence, while younger generations are reshaping real estate with their passion for sustainability and smart design. Green technologies and bespoke craftsmanship now stand alongside architectural grandeur as hallmarks of today’s luxury homes. Anything and everything is possible, and each day invites unlimited possibilities.

Inside the pages of this February/March issue, you will find a carefully curated selection of exceptional properties that represent the pinnacle of Charleston’s real estate, the businesses that stand beside them, and an editorial that explains the upcoming trends to combine all of the above.

Each page is an opportunity to live your dreams.

I am excited as Charleston begins another vibrant year, starting with two marquee events that celebrate the city’s unparalleled lifestyle. The first is SEWE (Southeastern Wildlife Exposition), which invites us to connect with fine art and wildlife. It’s a cherished tradition marking the start of Charleston’s tourism season. Following closely in March, the Charleston Wine + Food Festival takes center stage- uniting culinary masters, wine connoisseurs, and food lovers in an unforgettable showcase of flavor and creativity.

These events embody the charm and sophistication that make the Lowcountry so remarkable. Whether you’re searching for your next dream home, exploring design possibilities, or simply seeking inspiration for how to live the best possible life of luxury- this issue is a celebration of what’s possible when beauty, innovation, and luxury converge.

Here’s to 2025-a year of elegance, optimism, and living exquisitely.

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from the publisher dec/jan 2024/2025

Welcome to the holiday issue of Luxury Home Magazine – and my very first as a publisher!

With over 20 years of experience in the luxury market, spanning New York, Chicago, Boston, Europe, and now Charleston, I’m thrilled to bring my expertise to the heart of the Lowcountry. My journey through diverse, high-caliber markets has sharpened my eye for exceptional design and refined living, and I’m excited to apply that perspective to Charleston’s thriving luxury community.

This issue is especially significant as we introduce something truly special- Charleston’s Power Players, a first for us. These titans of industry and visionary leaders are shaping the future of our city, influencing everything from where we live to where we grow. I’m honored to highlight the individuals who are not just creating homes, but cultivating the luxury lifestyle that defines our city.

Inside, you’ll discover a wealth of inspiration, celebrating the art of living the dream. From stunning design ideas to the highest standards of luxury, we’re here to elevate your space to its fullest potential.

A personal note: As Charleston continues to grow, so does the energy around my beloved Gamecocks, who are proving that anything is possible with grit and determination- just as our community does each day.

Of course, as it has to be noted, I always respect the fierce spirit of the Clemson Tigers, whose legacy in this state is undeniable.

Thank you for joining me on this exciting new chapter. I look forward to continuing to curate and celebrate the best of Charleston’s luxury living in every issue.

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The true life of a Gamecock. 

A moment of understanding.

We love our school. 
-we love our football team more. 

Have you every heard 2001 under the lights of a night game?
-I cry every single time.

Remember when you got that Christmas present you campaigned for all year long?
-that's how loud we cheer when Cocky is revealed during the crescendo of 2001, just before the players run onto the field.

We appreciate that we went 0-21 once.
-humility is a good thing.

We were crying like babies when we won that first game.
-we stole the goal posts and bushes because we didn’t want the moment to end. 
(then we stole them a few more times)

We know Holtz changed it all for us- Spurrier made better. 
-and Beamer made us believe.

Fuck Muschamp. 
We genuinely HATE Muschamp.  
-don’t even mention that guy to a Gamecock. 

We beat Ohio State. Twice.
-they were National Champions the following year.

The HIT.
-no other explanation necessary, other than OSU fans and players alike didn't give a fuck about those consecutive Outback Bowls when this occurred. 

We are hopeless romantics.
-how can we not be?

We are passionate and confidant. 
-some might say we are cocky.

Our passion annoys 99% of the people who don’t get it
- we do not care. 

We are grateful for every moment. 
- and understand more than anyone why George Rogers carries his Heisman around with him, every day.

We hate the color orange.
-we really hate the color orange.

We don’t give an actual fuck how many “Nattys” Clemson has won.
-we smile knowing Dabo fell for “may I take my pic of you,” and it was usually the little kid in the picture who held up 5 fingers.

We hate Georgia just as much as Clemson.
-and never in my life have I heard a Williams-Brice Stadium ‘boo’ the opposing coaches, until Muschamp ran out on the field with them.

Cam Newton Broke every single one of our hearts in 2010.
-we all know he played as one, while we played as a team.

We develop the kind of people you are proud to be around.
"Second quarter, with about five minutes left, fate got me. It was dreadful. A lot of anger. A lot of disappointment. Lot of pain all wrapped into one. I was shouting in the x-ray room. I tore all four ligaments in my knee — ACL, LCL, PCL and MCL — my calf muscle and hamstring and my femoral artery had been hit, which is why I couldn't feel anything. … I was never mad at [Eric Gordon]. At the end of the day, it was a good play. It was a legal tackle." - Marcus Lattimore.
-Lattimore was my favorite player to watch on the Gamecocks football team. He was so fucking good. And pure of heart. I will always respect that man.

Quick side note due to my obvious ADHD: Despite his abbreviated career, Lattimore ranks No. 6 on South Carolina's all-time rushing list with 2,677 yards and owns the school record for rushing touchdowns (38) and overall touchdowns (41). His best season came as a freshman in 2010 when he rushed for 1,197 yards on 249 carries. He earned SEC Freshman of the Year and unanimous Freshman All-America honors.

The NFL loves the players we give to them.
-yet they treat us like a moped; it's okay to ride around the neighborhood, but you don’t want anyone to see you on it.

Dan Reeves, Bobby Bryant, George Rogers, Harold Green, Sterling Sharpe, Robert Brooks, Duce Staley, Sheldon Brown, John Abraham, Jonathan Joseph, Richard Seymour, Sidney Rice, Ryan Succop, D.J. Swearinger, Alshon Jeffery, CLOWNY, Melvin Ingram, LATTIMORE, Mike Davis, Stephon Gilmore, Damiere Byrd, Connor Shaw, DEEBO, Hayden Hurst, Javon Kinlaw, Nick Muse, and Xavier Legette. Phil Petty, Jonathan Martin, Ryan Brewer, Jason Corse, Trey Pennington, Travis Whitfield, Andrew Pinnock, Courtney Leavitt, Vic Penn, Anthony Wright, Jermale Kelly, Scott Browne, Rod Trafford, Reed Morton, Corey Jenkins, Eric Kimrey, Derek Watson, Steve Florio, Tyeler Dean, Cleveland Pinckney, and Corey Bridges.
-each name on this list is a Gamecock. Sure, not all of these men made it to the NFL, but each name means something to us. 

We truly believe that when we are yelling at the television during a game the team can hear our obvious expertise.
-and truly believe the refs are perpetually against us.

We know that every season we could (and probably will) beat the best team in the USC.
-and then lose to the worst. 

We have one logo for the entire university- aside from the baseball team. 
-they get their own, and no one really knows why.

We show up. 
We have no issue learning 100 different chants- depending on the direction of The Might Sound of the Southeast.
We understand that we could be up 1million points going into the 4th quarter- and lose. 
We understand that we could be down 1million points going into the 4th quarter- and win. 
We are fiercely loyal. 
We do not give up.
We see the potential. 
We get frustrated. 
We fight.

We are the mighty Gamecocks and the REAL CAROLINA. 
We are the mighty Gamecocks and the REAL USC. 

FOREVER. TO. THEE.

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leftovers.

It’s been a while since I have written (you know, life and all), and I promise I am not turning this into a recipe blog, but I do have one that I must share due to popular request.

If you’ve read this post, you’d know my feelings about Halloween. If not, don’t worry- you won’t miss anything. I digress. 

This year I had a bunch of leftover Halloween candy. Big bars. I pondered what to do with the leftovers (I was shocked to have leftovers, considering I let people take 2), so instinctually I thought of my colligate step son, Gunnar. I feel bad because the moment I text him about mailing it down to him- to which he replied “YES!”- I already had another idea for what I was going to do with it. Oops. Sorry, Gunnar. Next time. Maybe. 

Disclaimer: it doesn’t have to be “leftover” Halloween candy to make these. You can totally make them on purpose with purchased candy bars from the grocery store.  I’ll allow it.  

Katie’s Left-Over Halloween Candy Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies 

Ingredients:  (caveat: I do NOT measure, all sizing is approximate)

Before we begin- preheat that oven to 375. If you have access to music or a Kitchen TV, please put on your favorite background noise. I believe I was watching Nurse Jackie at the time. It very well could have been Gossip Girl, but I’m pretty confident it was NJ. 

NOW, what you’ll need:

  • 3 cups of Oats (I mean really, start the day with Quaker)
  • 1 1/2 cups of Flour 
  • 2-3 tablespoons of vanilla extract. To me, you can NEVER have enough vanilla- as it cuts the “floury” flavor.  Also, if you click the link, there are apparently healthy benefits of it as well.
  • Brown & White Sugar (recipes will say 3/4 cup of each, but I do a cup of brown and 1/4 of raw sugar)
  • tsp of baking soda
  • 2 eggs (no link for this- mine came from my back yard chickens)
  • 1 cup to 1 1/2 cups of butter.  I discovered THIS BUTTER at Market Basket- and I will never use another.
  • Salt.  Most people will say 1/4 tsp, but I like the salt with the chocolate, so I add a little more. Perhaps you are on a diet without salt. No harm no foul. Simply omit this step.
  • 1/2 cup of mini chocolate chips
  • Extra Halloween Candy chopped.  For mine, I used Snickers, Reese’s Fast Break and Reese’s Outrageous Pieces. Don’t chop them tiny- I suggest once down the center and then in 1/4 inch cuts. I believe I used a bout 4 BIG bars in all.

I like to melt the butter, then blend the sugar until its smooth. Add vanilla and eggs. In a separate bowl- combine flour, salt and baking soda. Then add oats to the powder mix.  SLOWLY combine the powder to the sugar/butter/vanilla mix until all combined.  NOW add our chocolate chips, then finally the candy pieces. Should be a nice thick mix of wonderfulness at this point. If I missed anything, just add it. 

Put tsp or TBS spoon size portions on a baking sheet (cookie sheet silicone is a miracle)- about 2 inches apart.

Bake for 11-12 minutes. Cool on cookie rack. They WILL be mushy right out of the oven, so be delicate about getting them onto cooling rack. That will change to a chewy deliciousness you can hide in a cookie jar or do something a little more adventurous.

Enjoy.

these are not fat free.

 

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tomato soup for the soul.

On this very cold March day, I decided to create a meal that isn’t very diet friendly: tomato basil bisque & grilled cheese with truffle butter. I’ll start planning for bikini season tomorrow.

After a first tasting, I decided I would share my recipes for all to enjoy. They are that good.

I used a crockpot and a Ninja for the soup. A stove with a frying pan for the sandwich.

Spices needed: pepper, sea salt, garlic powder (or save yourself some time and just buy Camp Mix)

When you hit the grocery store, this is your list for the soup:

  • 1 bunch of fresh basil
  • 2 cans of 14oz organic diced tomatoes (or fresh tomatoes diced that would equal 28oz- if you have the time)
  • 1 CAN (yes, can-not a jar) of organic tomato sauce
  • either a block of parmesan cheese or a bag of fresh grated parmesan
  • 1 container of organic chicken broth
  • butter (I like the sea-salted)
  • 1 small container of heavy cream (I went with Hood).

And for the sandwich:

  • 1 block of cheese (I went with gouda, but you pick the kind you like best)
  • truffle butter (most Whole Food-like grocery stores will carry this, if not, then find a nice truffle oil and we can melt down the butter and mix this in)

    oh hey, little friend.
  • bread (Listen, we NEVER have bread in the house, so you know this is a big deal. Anyway, I went with a gorgeous Tuscan Pane White)

    best thing since betty white.
  • Optional ingredients I know my husband will request: tomato and/or any kind of meat.

As far as how much of what to add for the soup- I never follow recipes to a T. I always wing it for taste. Gordon Ramsey would be pleased. The only ingredients I actually “limited” before throwing into the crockpot were of the dairy and spice categories. I used 4 tbsp of butter and a good pour of the cream that probably amounted to 3/4 a cup.  The parmesan cheese I did a healthy handful…and then added some more. As for the spices, just add to taste.  It’s all up to you, really.  

To cook soup: add ingredients to the crockpot and set on high for 3 hours. I went ahead and blended all the ingredients (to make it a more smooth consistency, but you can keep it chunky if you like) in my Ninja after about an hour, and then added it back to the crockpot to continue to simmer. Add fresh basil on top to garnish.

For the sandwich, I would start by truffle-buttering one side two slices of bread. I might even use the truffle butter to oil the pan. Hey- I love truffles and butter, don’t judge. I think by this point if you don’t know how to make a grilled cheese from here then I certainly would be delighted to help you: butter-side-down bread to pan, cheese (add as much as you like), bread-butter-side-up. Heat on medium. I would do 3 minutes and then flip, making sure the butter side is again down (but you keep checking to make sure it gets a nice brown, not black). My husband would have me add two slices of tomato with the cheese, but I go with the basics.

to answer your question, yes, he wanted tomatoes. told you.

I suggest making more than one sandwich. Don’t worry, it will get eaten. Now serve, dip and enjoy.

 

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enough.

I’m in an “accident prone phase” and I don’t like it one bit. Sigh.

I won’t deny that clumsiness runs in my family because it totally does. My father has had fireworks blow up in his face, my mom face-planted onto a sidewalk and my sister used to get into her own bits of accidents. I have done a damn good job of avoiding it, until recently. I have always believed that things come in 3s- and in this instance I REALLY need to believe that the third annoying, painful, frustrating and downright stupid third thing has already occurred.

Translation: I am safe now. Nothing else can go wrong.

Side note: I use to think that if you get pulled over by police for speeding, that you are solid for a while because you had your turn. I thought that, until I was pulled over 3 times, 3 weeks in a row. You might remember my letter (Well, okay, Laura’s letter) to the great state of Maine? 

I bring you to the phase: I have sciatic pain in my legs. It gets really annoying when trying to sleep, sit still at all, go to the movies, work, drive, etc. Sometimes it’s downright unbearable. I know, I know “stretch more, Katie.” Yeah, no. Won’t happen. I can lie to you and say I will, but we all know I won’t.  Anyway, my father told me to buy this cream: Capsaicin. I have used it and while it burns like hell, typically it’s no issue for me. That is- until the phase started. I took a bath one night after work and applied the cream. No big deal. 15 minutes passed and I found myself standing over the freezer, putting ice on my legs. 20 minutes later- I find myself in the bathtub, with freezing water. All of a sudden, my face is equally burning. Brad walks upstairs because it has been a while since I have been seen. Where does he find me? Butt-ass naked in front of the fan in the bedroom- trying to get the air to blow on my legs that felt as if the skin was burning off of them, bawling. Awesome. And hot. (note sarcasm and the tricky pun I used there) “Did you get it on your face too?”  Yes, Brad. I did. Next thing we have Brad on the phone with poison control, trying to figure out how to make it stop. Note: there is no cure. You have to wait it out. Fanfuckingtastic.

Next portion of my phase was this past weekend. This is about 4 days after the Capsaicin incident. I was not feeling well at all, in fact, I even stopped at an urgent care on the way home from work Friday. Well, carry that feeling into the weekend. You with me this far? Okay, so Sundays are Brad’s “Officer Von Haden” days- leaving me home alone. Typically I will go grocery shopping, clean, do laundry, meanwhile binge-watching Netflix. Usually, I like my Sundays. Usually is over; I did not like this Sunday. 

Gunnar needed to leave for work and he asked me to move my car, as I was blocking him in the driveway. Sure. No problem! Well, my stomach had started to really hurt me. Like stabbing pain. I tried ignoring it, and decided that instead of moving my car, I would go grocery shopping. That made it worse. I got home and found myself laying down, trying to get it to pass. UGH.  My leg pain was making it hard to lay down. I shall wash the dog! This would help.

deep down, i know she loves baths.
deep down, i know she loves baths, despite the face i always get from her.

Washing the dog went fine, but she left a trail of water all over the house- that I could not see. Think black ice on a winter morning, but worse. 

black ice, sometimes called clear ice, refers to a thin coating of glazed ice on a surface. While not truly black, it is virtually transparent, allowing black asphalt/macadam roadways or the surface below to be seen through it—hence the term "black ice".
black ice, sometimes called clear ice, refers to a thin coating of glazed ice on a surface. While not truly black, it is virtually transparent, allowing black asphalt/macadam roadways or the surface below to be seen through it—hence the term “black ice”.

Fast forward to me, walking down the stairs, in flip flops… that hit the water, causing my feet to slide out from under me. The entire weight of my back SLAMMED on the stairs, and proceed to fall fast, SLAMMING me against the front door, one stair at a time.

Julius Caesar would have been disgusted, as I did exactly the opposite of him: I paused. I felt. I CRIED. I think I was hyperventilating by the time I was able to crawl over to the phone and call Brad.  You know that ugly 2 year old cry you never thought was possible past that age? Well, it is. As I am typing this, I feel the pain of my back, butt and the bruising all up my arms.

Feel bad for me yet? It gets worse.

Last night we got home from back-to-school shopping and dinner, and were all watching TV. I decided to get my bunny to snuggle with me before bed.  (yes, an actually pet bunny, this is not a strange nickname I have for Brad). Well, as bunny is being sweet, licking my neck, being the cute little woodland creature he was meant to be, I decide to give him a kiss on his belly. Well, before you think I am giving TMI of my snuggle-session, out of NOWHERE, Mr. Bunny decided to KICK. My face. My eye. I saw stars. Not wanting to draw attention to what just happened- I slowly get up and put bunny back in his enclosure. I then walk upstairs, and proceed to see blood and scratch marks dripping down my face.

Brad had no words when I called him into the bathroom other than, “you want me to take care of the bunny for you?” Nice. And no.

I’m going to go ahead and be more careful for the next few days. You know, until the phase passes.  Scarlet O’Hara said it best: After all, tomorrow is another day. 

that's all folks.
that’s all folks.

UPDATE: 2 days post attack.

#selfie #streetcred #aintnoshameinabunnybeatdown
#selfie #seriousface #streetcred #aintnoshameinabunnybeatdown

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the first 24 hours.

The first 24 hours of owning a home were certainly not boring. I’ll explain in 6 instances.

1. It rained the morning of the close. I had this theory, like some people do with weddings, that if it rains, that must be good luck! Well, it rained. It eventually cleared up, but it was a wet start to the day- which ruined my “really good hair” I had planned on sporting when signing the dotted line 50 times- and also put a little damper in not getting our stuff wet. Bring on the good luck!

2. Most the documents had “Kathleen Schmidt” on them. I pointed out that it wasn’t my name, and I guess this was a big deal. So, other than the fact the closing went smoothly, there was a small delay as they fixed the name. Apparently, Siri has a cousin in PC computers, making typos for all the world to enjoy.

3. There is a random sheet you have to sign that lists your public aliases on it. Interesting. I signed, but I am pretty sure that I am not the only “K Schmidt” out there, nor did I know I went by “K.” Guess my Men in Black career is done. They know who I am.

Okay, I will stop boring you and get to the good stuff:

4. The oops I made. We ALL have dealt with service providers before and the complete road-rage-esque feeling when you have to get an actual human on the phone, a bill to be correct or an appointment to be on time. I’m always the one to set up utilities, so let’s call me a pro at dealing with these people and getting a desired result. OR I just yell until they fold. I was on the phone with 3 different people, 2 different times to get my wifi/cable/landline set up, initially. I thought it was set. Done and done- got an appointment for the next day between 8-10am. I was mistaken (kinda).

Fast-forward to next morning. I decide to call and make sure that we were on schedule. I call and get some guy who can’t pronounce my name, barely speaks English, and has no clue where New Hampshire is on a map. He couldn’t find my phone number in their records, so I gave him the address- while also going up one side of him and down the other with frustration. I’m right, dammit! This is preposterous! There is a pause and the man on the phone gently states, “ma’am Time Warner Cable actually does not service that part of New Hampshire.” Oops.

I’m quiet. “oh. Time Warner Cable, you say? Ha! I have the wrong number.” I hang up, feeling like an asshole. Why, you ask? My appointment was with Comcast.

5. Karma in the form of the totally paranoid and insulting Cable guy. Now, while I will forever and always immediately say the title “cable guy” in my head exactly as Jim Carrey says it in the movie, I don’t ever expect Chip Douglas to be standing at my door. That being said, I also don’t expect the super insulting, paranoid Comcast man either. Where do I begin? Well, he walks in and only actually seeing the staircase and one room states “Well, this house looks a lot bigger from the outside.” Thanks, jackass. You have seen one whole room, but I appreciate the judgement. He said some other comments while he was there, but I am withholding those, as I am still wounded. Bottom line: he was rude.

“Joe” goes to install the cable, wifi and phone. When he is done, he gave me this very long and angry nervous schpeel about how if I have an issue PLEASE call him and not Comcast. Something about how they dock his pay and black marks on his file. I got the feeling this guy gets more than a few complaints about him. He went on and on and on and on about it for a good 15 minutes. “Put my number in your cell phone” he commanded. “Uh, sure…” I put it in the “notes” section and not the address book. Take that, JOE.

this concludes our broadcast day. click
this concludes our broadcast day. click

6. The million dollar dog strikes again. This is how it went: I got home from bringing Brad a snack and running at the gym. All good. I let the dogs go out to pee. All good. I let the dogs in. All good. I fixed the dogs dinner. All good. I poor myself a well-deserved glass of champagne. Alllllllll good. Buddy starts doing the throw-up dance. Not good. I open the door to let him out. Not good. He comes back in. Better. He starts scratching something on his person. Not bad, but not better. I check him out, nothing. Better. I look at his face. Shocked. HOLY SHIT WHAT HAPPENED TO BUDDY! REALLY BAD. His face looked like he was the victim of getting hit in the face during a baseball game.

his modeling days are over.
his modeling days are over.

I race to the store to get Benedryl because Brad thought he must have been stung by something. I look like I’m abusing him in the parking lot, as I am not only trying to hold him down, hold his VERY swollen head, but also open his clenched jaw to put pills down his throat. Took me about 10 minutes, but I was successful. Poor Little Buddy.

In conclusion: I’m having friends over for dinner tonight to show them the new house. Let’s hope the next 24 hours go a lot smoother. Searching for roofing companies near me. Call Overson Roofing in Arizona. Can I please have a glass of champagne now?!

By the way, does anyone remember which boxes I put my clothing in? 🙂 

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fifty shades of horrible.

So, as I have divulged previously, I am a reader. I picture the story as a movie in my head and get lost in the words. However, I get nervous when filmmakers decide to cash in on a best seller. Don’t get me wrong, the movies basically raised me. While my parents were working, I was watching movies- yet I just can’t handle a bad adaptation from book to silver screen. Additionally, if you want to know what is xd in a movie theater, you can check out these article.

There is one exception: Fifty Shades of Grey.  Now, I know I wrote about my experience reading it, but I never told you my honest opinion on this work of fiction.

Putting all of Stephen King‘s work aside (because there is no need to explain how his cocaine-infused brilliance could never be depicted in film- you all know the films are a shy comparison), and forgetting how most of the fun plot lines in J.K. Rowling‘s Harry Potter franchise were omitted (where is Peeves?!), I actually put effort into forgetting the horrible prose of E. L. James in the hopes that the movie MIGHT be halfway decent. This would be the ONLY instance where the movie could be better than the book. I was wrong. BOTH are horrible.

It has been a while since I read the books. I read all three of them in a week, with the last book taking the longest. I remember actually wishing it would end, but refused to be a quitter. I read until the end and believe I threw it. Done, I say! Be gone with you forever!

Not quite.

Side note: I have a strange memory, where I remember mundane details that no one else would bother. I’m fantastic as a trivia partner, but it makes it hard to slip anything by me. I know they compare “50” to Twilight, but she literally steals scenes and lines verbatim from the Thomas Crown Affair (circa 1999, not 1968) too. It drove me insane reading it. 

This morning Brad had to work early, so I decided to get up and be productive. What shall I do today? I shall go see a movie! I saw that there was a 10:05am viewing of “the film.” Fuck it, I’ll go. I saw Sex and the City and Pitch Perfect by myself, why couldn’t I see this one? I shot a text to Brad- announcing my plans and off I went!

the evidence.
the evidence.

I walk in to the movie theater and immediately feel like a pervert. Instead of going to the teenagers in the little box to buy my ticket, I go to the kiosk. No shame if no one knows, right? Now the thinking begins: do I get popcorn for a 10am movie? I haven’t had breakfast yet, so this counts? I walked towards the ticket-checking chick, who then lets me know that she doesn’t know if it’s good, to which I finish for her “because you are not 17 yet are you?” Inside thought: ahhh, I’m old. I’m that old 30something chick going to see the mommy-porn movie and I’m not a mom! 

I have to say that the previews were better than this movie. There was no chemistry between characters and about 45 minutes in I wanted to leave. I decided to stay. I waited a little longer- this hurts.  The casting was bad. The acting was “acting” (you know, when you can tell they are acting) and I just wasn’t lost in the movie. I didn’t expect to be running out- grasping for Brad to take me after, but I expected to feel something. Nothing. Watching this made me feel bad that Brad wasn’t staring in this movie! Why would I want to watch this cold, young horribly cast character, when I have the real deal at home?

I finally looked at my phone: 12:05! I had sat here for two whole hours and this flick is nowhere near done! I stood up, grabbed my water and left. I will NOW be a quitter with this franchise. This is two hours of my life I cannot get back.

Lesson learned: When every single one of your friends tells you they have no desire to see a movie, listen to them. There is a reason you are sitting in there alone!

I shall now finish my weekend Fifty Shades mortified, ashamed and appreciative that this book is finally behind me.

The End.

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good karma.

kar·ma
ˈkärmə/
noun
  1. (in Hinduism and Buddhism) the sum of a person’s actions in this and previous states of existence, viewed as deciding their fate in future existences.
    • informal
      destiny or fate, following as effect from cause.

If I can remember anything from high school, it was the sole value my principal was trying to instill into the student body: integrity. For some reason, this was the one word I remember from every single time he would speak. He was that principal who would make the varsity basketball team practice on one half of the gym, so his spoiled, obnoxious sons could take foul shots on the other half the day before a game. I once got yelled at and called to his office for calling him an asshole, during class, for saying to Vanessa Kermick that women were never going to be as smart as men. I’m not even a feminist. I just remember the look on her face when he said it, and the words came out. My point in telling you this is that my principal wasn’t the nicest man, but he did teach me about integrity. Regardless, the word integrity has become part of something I have always admired in people- and the most attractive quality someone can have. Good thing Brad has more integrity than anyone I have ever met. Perhaps that’s why I love him so much.

With integrity, comes living your life well. Brad said something to me once that has always stuck out. “At the end of the day, the only one who has to look in the mirror at yourself is you.” So, for the almost three years we have been together, I have striven to live my life with the utmost integrity. Not for the return on investment, but because it’s true. I’m the one who has to look at myself at the end of the day. I can’t tell you how fantastic it has been to smile every day I do so.

This past weekend, however, I have learned that my actions have resulted in FANTASTIC karma! I shall relay the past 24 hours to you, as it’s insane.

This weekend, we decided to go to see Lady Antebellum, Billy Currington and Joe Nichols.

Side note: The history of the name “Lady Antebellum” stems from pre-Civil War, before the north won and celebrating the south.  A little surprised that name went over so well, especially given the omnipresent racial war. Being I was raised in NH, I didn’t know the meaning of the Confederate flag, much more than that was the decor of the Dukes of Hazard’s General Lee, but I learned very quickly the real meaning of it once college came. Don’t judge my lack of knowledge, my history teacher wasn’t that great- and New England tends to focus the curriculum on Paul Revere and the Boston Tea Party. Interestingly, the Christian flag, a symbol significant to many, might have brought a different perspective on historical symbols if it had been included in our teachings.

just a good ole boy.
just a good ole boy. Never meanin’ no harm.

First act of good karma: I was looking for a hotel room in walking distance to the venue. Not only did someone cancel 5 minutes prior to me calling, but the woman was so nice she gave me an additional $20 off the room.

Second act of good karma: It started to rain like something out of a comedy. We got lawn seats, and of course assumed that we would be in the 20th percentile when it said there was an 80% chance of rain. I went to buy us ponchos and of course they had just sold the last one. Well, the woman behind the counter gave me one look, and simply reached into her bag and gave me her own poncho to take. “Seriously? What will you use?” I asked. “I have an umbrella.” I was in awe of her kindness.

advice: invest in an umbrella.
advice: invest in an umbrella.

Third act of good karma: I only got one poncho, so when I walked back to the completely soaked and smiling Brad, I had nothing to hand him, but the plastic bag the poncho was in. He smiled and proceeded to poke a hole and place it around his head. The people in back of us then handed him a brand new poncho to use.

Fourth act of good karma: 45 minutes in the pouring rain came an angle in our sight with an umbrella. “I have two extra seats inside if you would like them?”  So then our luck moved to the 4th row of the upper section- inside, out of the rain.

you deserve to be inside.
you deserve to be inside.

Fifth act of good karma: I had new earrings in- somewhere in between my dripping wet hair and the slow process of it drying, my earring ripped out of my ear and dropped on the ground. I found it within 3 minutes, directly in front of me.

Sixth act of good karma: I was waiting in a very long line, in the rain, for the bathroom. Upon entering, even though I was third in line to go, the women in front of me insisted I go- for no other reason than I made them laugh.

When things go shitty in your life you can get angry at the higher power or everything around you, even reflecting and blaming within, but it is these little moments of happy that give you hope that good karma really does exist. Either that, or I am one lucky girl.  If I am being honest, it’s probably a little bit of both.

Hope your weekend was as nice as mine.

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obsessions.

Good morning! Sitting in bed, watching a rerun of MadMen and thinking about dinner last night at the York Harbor Inn’s Ship’s Cellar Pub. The food was amazing, as per usual, but it was the dessert that is lingering in my mind. So, I thought I would share that- and some other of my obsessions. Who knows, perhaps I will introduce you to something you didn’t know existed, or had yet to try. I’ll limit it to five.

Obsession #1. Flourless chocolate cake from YHI. After dinner, we ordered dessert to go. It came with fresh whipped cream and a raspberry sauce. Holy party in my mouth. Okay, I shared a couple bites with Brad- even though he had his own apple crisp. Dessert isn’t something I usually save room for, but in this instance- don’t mind if I do.

hello beautiful.
hello beautiful.

Obsession #2. J Lohr Chardonnay. The first time I had this wine was at a dinner with my roommate’s parents in Boston 2004. We were dining at Aujourd’hui, within the Four Seasons, before the Broadway show The Lion King. Looks like it’s just event space now, but it was a gorgeous restaurant. They ordered a bottle and I have been hooked ever since. It pairs wonderfully with seafood and Thanksgiving dinner.

buttery goodness.
buttery goodness.

Obsession #3. Fairy Drops mascara. I have very thick, but short lashes. These make my lashes look like I got extensions! Apparently, the Japanese are the best when it comes to mascara. Who knew?! I found this cute YouTube video, which tells a little more about it in detail. Take my advice and switch brands.

lashes for days.
lashes for days.

Obsession #4. Pinterest. Need a recipe? Want a new fitness routine? Don’t know what to wear to that party? Not sure how to decorate the house for Christmas? Looking for a quote or new book? Curious what common birthday gifts are for men? Pinterest. I love searching this site and getting lost in the pins. Next time you are at a loss for words: Pinterest will come to the rescue.

search. pin. like. share.
search. pin. like. share.

Obsession #5. Netflix. I was angry, along with the rest of the world, when they jacked the prices and decided to charge for the home streaming. However, I have had a change of heart and now I can’t stop watching it. Brad’s son, Gunnar, was nice enough to put the Xbox downstairs. We watch at dinner time. Okay, I might also watch/listen to it on my commute to work…which may or may not cause my data usage to equal that of an entire family plan. I can’t help it! Netflix original series Orange is the New Black and House of Cards are amazing! I’m honestly considering cancelling our cable, as it’s basically useless to us now.

“a great man once said, everything is about sex. except sex. sex is about power.” -frank underwood.
“a great man once said, everything is about sex. except sex. sex is about power.”                                        -frank underwood, house of cards.

As I lay in my bed, petting my golden retriever (who isn’t supposed to be in the bed, but as Brad is at work- he won’t know) and looking out the window, two thoughts cross my mind: Do I go to the gym and try out that new fitness plan I found, or do I go downstairs and watch more Breaking Bad? Decisions, decisions. Either way, my lashes will look fabulous.

Don’t you just love lazy Sundays?