Hello Irene, I'm Katrina.
I'll be working with you over the next several days. My friends and I have been preparing for your visit ever since we learned that you were heading to the North East Coast.
Even Mayor Bloomberg and his buddies are anxiously anticipating your arrival. They thought your visit granted a day off for many of our transit folks, so he decided to shut down the subway & bus system in honor of YOU. That doesn't even happen at Christmas time, which just goes to show how special we think you are.
You truly are the talk of the town. Even the media are super hyped about your arrival. It gives them something to new to talk about - which is great because people were getting bored hearing about the debt ceiling.
Oh, and I hope you don't feel like Mr. Earthquake was trying to steal your show on Tuesday. Think of Mr. Earthquake like John the Baptist. Just like he prepared the way for Jesus, Earthquake helped prepare the way for you and your upcoming arrival to New York City.
The grocery stores in the city have been packed out with people these past 24 hours. They must be getting ready to have a feast in honor of you. It's almost like Thanksgiving - except bread and water are the top selling items rather than turkey and pumpkin pie.
PS If you would, please avoid entering through my window; I don't think you'd fit very well through it. I'm not saying you're fat, so please don't take it that way. My mom is just concerned that you might break it, and I already told her that you wouldn't.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Tonight I was asked...
Tonight I was asked if I dated while I was in college.
I explained to the 19 year old gal who inquired, "Not really. I dated someone from Spring Hill - the summer camp I worked at in Michigan - just before college, but he broke things off with me at the end of the summer."
I still remember his breaking words, "Katrina, you're going to meet a lot of studs at U of M." He kissed me on the cheek, stepped back into his SUV, and with a wave of his hand, he was gone.
He was wrong; I didn't meet any studs at U of M. Instead I wondered about that other guy I had also met at camp that summer. Other guy and I stayed in touch beyond the summer and he even came for a visit to Ann Arbor. In response, I initated a visit to his campus. However, my visit to his campus was a failure" and it became clear - he wasn't interested.
However, summer fling contacted with an apologetic e-mail a few days after Valentine's Day my freshman year, confessing that he had been a jerk, and wondering if maybe we could try again.
We were both going to be back at camp that summer...
I explained to the 19 year old gal who inquired, "Not really. I dated someone from Spring Hill - the summer camp I worked at in Michigan - just before college, but he broke things off with me at the end of the summer."
I still remember his breaking words, "Katrina, you're going to meet a lot of studs at U of M." He kissed me on the cheek, stepped back into his SUV, and with a wave of his hand, he was gone.
He was wrong; I didn't meet any studs at U of M. Instead I wondered about that other guy I had also met at camp that summer. Other guy and I stayed in touch beyond the summer and he even came for a visit to Ann Arbor. In response, I initated a visit to his campus. However, my visit to his campus was a failure" and it became clear - he wasn't interested.
However, summer fling contacted with an apologetic e-mail a few days after Valentine's Day my freshman year, confessing that he had been a jerk, and wondering if maybe we could try again.
We were both going to be back at camp that summer...
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Owosso
Nearly a week ago a friend that I've known since pre-school got married in my birth town of Owosso, Michgan. I call it my birth town rather than my hometown, because I was only six years old when my parents, siblings, and I moved out of the parsonage.
Parsonage is a fancy name for a house owned by a church that the Pastor and his family get to live in for free.
We scored BIG on our parsonage. Rather than being a the standard humble abode, we lived in a grand 4 bedroom Victorian Home that was featured each year on the city's tour of homes.
The parsonage was located across the street from the church where my Dad served as a Pastor for 7 years. 7, according to the Bible, is a number that symbolizes completion, so the number of years my Dad spent at that church might seem appropriate; however, his time ended there with a forced signature of resignation.
Half the church left when we did, and rather than feeling complete and whole about our 7 years in Owosso, we were left broken.
Even still, for some reason, I had in my mind, that someday I would return to Owosso, and return to that same church to state my wedding vows.
So a few years ago, when "he" told me over the phone that aside from Spring Hill, there's another place to him that is super special... and it's this town in small town in Michigan called Owosso.
Parsonage is a fancy name for a house owned by a church that the Pastor and his family get to live in for free.
We scored BIG on our parsonage. Rather than being a the standard humble abode, we lived in a grand 4 bedroom Victorian Home that was featured each year on the city's tour of homes.
The parsonage was located across the street from the church where my Dad served as a Pastor for 7 years. 7, according to the Bible, is a number that symbolizes completion, so the number of years my Dad spent at that church might seem appropriate; however, his time ended there with a forced signature of resignation.
Half the church left when we did, and rather than feeling complete and whole about our 7 years in Owosso, we were left broken.
Even still, for some reason, I had in my mind, that someday I would return to Owosso, and return to that same church to state my wedding vows.
So a few years ago, when "he" told me over the phone that aside from Spring Hill, there's another place to him that is super special... and it's this town in small town in Michigan called Owosso.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Final Days
Sooooooo is it wrong to pray, "Dear God, please help me find a trashy, black dress for Jaimie's bachelorette party tomorrow"? "Quickly... and one that's not too pricey... "?
20 minutes & 15 dollars later - prayer answered at Banana Republic...
That was today.
Yesterday God blessed me with sweet surf at the south end of Huntington Beach, and then returning home to a house full of fabulous roommates - all back in town for Jaimie and Lee's wedding.
I'm not ready to leave...
20 minutes & 15 dollars later - prayer answered at Banana Republic...
That was today.
Yesterday God blessed me with sweet surf at the south end of Huntington Beach, and then returning home to a house full of fabulous roommates - all back in town for Jaimie and Lee's wedding.
I'm not ready to leave...
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Urth Caffe
Sunday nights after church I often find myself eating a late night meal with friends, or in some instances - as was the case last week - complete strangers.
http://www.urthcaffe.com/
The downtown location -
451 South Hewitt Street, on Hewitt and 5th, in the Arts District of Downtown Los Angeles.
That was last week.
Tonight we ventured to LA Cafe located on Spring Street, between 6th and 7th.
http://www.thelacafe.com/
I couldn't find parking nearby so I drove several blocks away until I found a metered spot (free on Sunday nights!) - right beside the sidewalk where one man was sleeping in a cardboard box and several others were setting up tents for the night.
I debated back and forth as to whether or not to drive on to another location, or to just suck it up and pay the $10 to park in a lot closer to the restuarant.
After some deliberation, I got out and quickly started towards the restaruant, doing my best to not to gag on the smell of urine that pervaded the streets leading up to Spring Street.
Two weeks ago: The Yardhouse at LA Live Staples Center
Three weeks ago: A Sushi spot in Little Tokyo
http://www.urthcaffe.com/
The downtown location -
451 South Hewitt Street, on Hewitt and 5th, in the Arts District of Downtown Los Angeles.
That was last week.
Tonight we ventured to LA Cafe located on Spring Street, between 6th and 7th.
http://www.thelacafe.com/
I couldn't find parking nearby so I drove several blocks away until I found a metered spot (free on Sunday nights!) - right beside the sidewalk where one man was sleeping in a cardboard box and several others were setting up tents for the night.
I debated back and forth as to whether or not to drive on to another location, or to just suck it up and pay the $10 to park in a lot closer to the restuarant.
After some deliberation, I got out and quickly started towards the restaruant, doing my best to not to gag on the smell of urine that pervaded the streets leading up to Spring Street.
Two weeks ago: The Yardhouse at LA Live Staples Center
Three weeks ago: A Sushi spot in Little Tokyo
Friday, June 24, 2011
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