A Great Blog

On Its Way

2008-03-31T23:37:00.000-07:00

This is where Kira's thoughts will go...

Oh, Brother!

2006-11-02T11:41:00.000-07:00

My brother (Hemingway, to those of us who remember what his writing 'skills' were like in elementary school) (Davy, to those of us who refused to jump on the 'Hey, I have facial hair now; call me David' bandwagon) just got his first job! The kid who named all of his stuffed animals and pets after himself (and subsequently sobbed when Davy Fish got flushed down the toilet), who used to wear his school gym uniform out in public because he thought it was cool, who was the cause of every broken bone I have ever had, who claims I borrowed $2 from him in 1987...and still wants it back...is a lawyer!

Congratulations, Hemingway!

Good luck getting your $2 back.

Judge Judy

2006-07-23T06:45:00.001-07:00

I have been accused of being a black/white thinker and of being judgmental. Yes…it’s true. Those are my tendencies. I do think there are times and circumstances when such thinking is appropriate and healthy. I do also realize that there are areas of grey in my own life, and that I am in need of way more grace than I ever thought. So, I do really want to try and give grace and understanding before judging.

But, I must admit, my black/white/judgmental thinking reared its ugly, pointed head when I read this tidbit on the celebrity pages of azcentral.com.
(Yes, I read trashy celeb gossip. It’s my guilty pleasure. Let's move on.)

According to reports, here are Dave Navarro’s thoughts on his recent split with his wife, Carmen Electra.

“...he and Electra remain on good terms despite their split, and intend to help each other through this difficult time. He added in his posting: ‘What does amicably separated mean? It means that Carmen and I love each other, we are and always will be best friends. In fact, we are supporting each other through this time. What better way to get through a tough spot than with your best friend? And that's that.’”

What? Maybe when he says they "love each other," he means it in the same way that Julia Roberts did when she exclaimed "I love everyone!" in her Oscar acceptance speech a few years ago...

I know marriage is messy and complicated and often full of grey areas…but I don’t understand this. I mean, doesn’t this “amicable separation” sound a heck of a lot healthier than some marriages? They love each other. They’re best friends. They want to support each other. If that’s true, they should be staying together, right?

And that's that.

Love,
Judge Judy

Double Hockey Sticks

2006-07-21T16:25:00.000-07:00

It was 116 degrees outside today.

Why, Satan, why?!

Word of the Day

2006-07-06T12:31:00.000-07:00

Merriam-Webster just released its 2006 version of the collegiate dictionary, including 100 new words.

http://www.m-w.com/info/new_words.htm

Here's my favorite new word:

mouse potato
Function: noun
Etymology: after couch potato
slang : a person who spends a great deal of time using a computer

Mouse potato. I love it!

I'm Your #1 Fan

2006-06-29T10:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Internet,

I just have to tell you how awesome and handy my husband is!
In the past three days, he’s single handedly installed three ceiling fans...with Viva waiting patiently nearby, ready to administer CPR in the event he got shocked.

Much to her dismay, he did it perfectly!

I Heart Cooking

2006-04-20T11:41:00.000-07:00

I should retitle my blog “Thoughts from a Domestic Diva.” Last week was a momentous occasion in the Krieger kitchen. I cooked a meal without cussing at the food, without cussing at Jeff, without tears (mine or Jeff’s), and without starting a small electrical fire. Yay!

It was easy and tasty. If I can do it, any bachelor can do it.
Here's the recipe for chicken stuffed with feta:

Ingredients:
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
3 Tbsp. chopped fresh parsley
1/2 tsp. dried oregano leaves
2 Tbsp. olive oil
2 (14 oz.) cans diced tomatoes with roasted garlic, undrained
1/4 cup sliced black olives
1 Tbsp. cornstarch

Prep:
Cut a 3" slit in the thick side of each chicken breast to form a pocket, being careful to not cut completely through the flesh. Combine cheese, parsley, oregano and oil and mix gently. Spoon 1/4 of filling into each pocket.
Place chicken in ungreased 2 quart baking dish.
In another small bowl, mix tomatoes, olives and cornstarch and pour over chicken. Bake at 350 degrees for 35-40 minutes until chicken is thoroughly cooked. Serve with spaghetti, if you like. Serves 4.

Bachelors, start your ovens!

Love,
Martha Stewart

What a Mess

2006-03-21T20:49:00.000-07:00

I never really considered myself domestic or "wifey." But as soon as we got home from the honeymoon--something just clicked. Actually, I think it snapped. A spring in my chest started tightening and I found myself obsessing over stuff like dirt on the baseboards, crumbs on the kitchen counter, hair in the sink, what to cook for dinner, how to learn how to cook what I want to cook for dinner. I actually cried because I couldn't keep up with the laundry. One of the things we were most looking forward to about married life was opening our home to our friends. But, I didn't want anyone to come over and see the mess. The unpacked boxes and suitcases, the hairy sinks, the disorder, the fact that we hadn't had clean underpants in three days.

I couldn't understand where these feelings were coming from. It felt so outdated--all this pressure to be Donna Reed in 2006. I mean, I don't even own an apron. Where were the feelings coming from? Turns out, it was me. It was my pride. I was turning the role of perfect wife and perfect home into an idol. My pride wanted to keep people out until I felt I had all my domestic ducks in a row. It was stifling. My loving husband showed me this...there's freedom in letting people into your mess. They really don't care. They'll eat pizza off of paper plates. They'll remember the good conversation, not the fact that they could write their names in the dust on the kitchen table.

There's freedom in letting someone else in on your mess. Trouble is, I've always been a sweep it under the carpet kind of girl. But, I guess I'm learning that it's a beautiful thing to be loved and accepted for who you are, dust balls and all.

My Husband

2006-03-21T20:05:00.000-07:00

"I don't know why I do some of these things. When I was living alone, it never would've occurred to me to do half of this stuff. But, because you're here, I do it just to freak you out."

-Jeff

59:03

2005-11-14T19:05:00.000-07:00

I achieved my goal of finishing the 10K without tears or paramedics! Thanks to great race-day running partners, a kick-butt 10K running mix on my iPod, endorphins, caffeine, adrenaline, and a second wind at the 3-mile mark, I did the 6.2 just shy of an hour. If you're a runner...this is nothing special. But I've been what you might call dormant for the last several months. Okay...six months. Ten. Whatever.
This 10k was a little taste of what I've been missing for a while. So, my pledge to myself is to either start training now for the half marathon in January...or get back into rowing. Listen, bloggers, my pledge is to myself. So, don't go trying to hold me accountable or anything.

Love,
Everest or Bust

There's No Crying in the 10K

2005-11-13T06:59:00.000-07:00

I am running in a 10K this morning. (6.2 miles)

Here's how I trained for it:
~~Ran three miles three weeks ago
~~Hiked for 10 minutes this past Monday
~~Extensive carb loading since summer

My goal, aside from finishing, is to finish without sobbing.

This kind of feels like the time I thought I could climb Everest just because I read Into Thin Air.

Note to Self...

2005-10-14T23:32:00.000-07:00

Note to self: Don't give Jeff Cross access to my blog ever again.

It's me, Kira Stout

2005-10-14T16:47:00.000-07:00

Hey guys. Like I said, it's me, Kira Stout, writing an entry in my blog. I'm over at Jeff's house right now and his roommate Jeff Cross is sitting at the dining room table on his laptop. I was not too excited about coming over here, but got really excited when I found out that Jeff C came home from work early today!

Jeff Krieger's parents bought us a bunch of dishes so now I'm getting them all out of the box and playing with them. 5 minutes later I get tired of that and go sit on the couch with Viva. Viva is really hyper right now. I really can't stand Viva. I hope that Jeff will reconsider my suggestion of putting her to sleep.

Jeff K is on his computer at the other end of the couch doing who knows what. Uh oh, Viva is climbing up on me to make out. I guess I have to pretend I like her so Jeff will still marry me.

Jeff Cross keeps glaring at me. Man I can't stand that kid. I can't decide who I like less, Jeff C or Viva. Well, I guess I do kind of owe Jeff C my life since he chaperoned us on our engagement trip. Plus he is paying for our honeymoon. It's hard to believe that the guy isn't married already. He's only 21 and owns 7 international software companies. He showed me 4 articles about him in Fortune magazine. He's been on the top 25 richest americans under 25 list 3 times. I guess he is kind of a jerk though. Actually, he's a huge jerk. One time I tried to give him a hug and he kneed me in the stomach. I almost had to go to the hospital. Some Sunday mornings he shows up drunk to church and laughs really loudly at inappropriate times during the sermon. Now it makes sense why the guy's not married.

I am going to take a nap on the couch now. I gotta get rested up for my big engagement party tonight. Hopefully my stingy friends will fork out some bucks and get us some real gifts. Keep it real homies - K S

KAK

2005-09-16T19:19:00.000-07:00

I've been getting a lot of grief from many of my friends (and enemies, like Jeff Cross)...wondering why I have not yet blogged about the fact that this past weekend, the best man I've ever met (that would be Jeff Krieger) asked me to marry him in no simple way. Well, people, I've been a little preoccupied with some of the details. Such as: What's the best way to plan a wedding? What's the best way to plan a wedding and avoid having someone, at some point, refer to me as 'Bridezilla'? And, does this mean I have to learn how to cook now? Anyway, I think I have most of that stuff figured out now. And, I just found a stash of coupons for some frozen dinners. I think I'm all set.

Yes, in a few short months, I will be Kira Ann Krieger. KAK. And, I am already turning into one of those girls. My bag is overflowing with glossy bridal magazines and the Anti-Bride Wedding Guide. I've had hour long conversations with friends about the benefits of daytime vs. evening wedding ceremonies. And there's actually a web site dedicated to the wedding. (Sign our guestbook!) The engagement story is pretty incredible, too. But, I'll have to tell you about that later. I'm very busy right now. I have to go read a few magazines and heat up a Marie Calendar's pot pie. Besides, it's a story best told in person so all of the facial expressions can be reenacted.

~~~Click here for pictures of the engagement weekend and see for yourself why it's totally obvious that God has blessed me far beyond anything I could've ever imagined. So like Him.

Bet You Didn't Know...

2005-08-31T16:54:00.000-07:00

Inspired by this hilarious post by my friend Brandon, here's a random list of oddities having to do with me.

1. I can't do boy push ups.
2. My hair air dries to look like sheep's wool.
3. If you look at me closely in direct sunlight...you'll see I have quite a mustache. I shaved it once and it felt like a cactus growing back in. Love me. Love my mustache.
4. I once had my eyebrows dyed.
5. I couldn't read clocks when I was a kid. I used to measure time in "Dukes of Hazzard."
6. I am an English major. I haven't read a book cover to cover in years.
7. I can't bring myself to get rid of my New Kids on the Block tapes.
8. I can't stand to touch, look at, or think about my bellybutton.
9. I have a thing for really cute old men.
10. My dream job: writing a column for Redbook.
11. My first crush: Michael Jackson.
12. I am addicted to gum.
13. I am an awful cook.
14. I was a tomboy in the early 80s. I actually got a toy gun set for Christmas.
15. My other dream job: lead singer in a band.
16. I've had half of a broccoli/chicken casserole in my fridge for over a month now.
17. My fears of getting attacked by wildlife almost keep me from hiking.
18. My other dream job: luggage cart driver at the airport.
19. I love watching people.
20. I am afraid of sharks. Even in swimming pools.
21. I can't burp.
22. I think David Lettermen is cute. (see #9)
23. I went to a Neil Diamond concert. Voluntarily.
24. I am really good at "Name that Tune."
25. Someone recently told me I look 14. I am almost 30.
26. Oh my gosh. I am almost 30.
27. I know all the words to Billy Joel's We Didn't Start the Fire.
28. I love listening to sad break up songs.
29. I am not as scholastic or organized as most people think I am.
30. I hate showering. (Not really. But Gabi, my old roommate, hated showers. And I miss her. So this one is for Gabi. She also likes gangsta rap. :)
31. I think Dr. Phil and Oprah are overrated.
32. I love to read GQ magazine.
33. I love martinis.
34. There are approx. 6,000 popcorn kernels under my desk at work.
35. I think Jennifer Garner is hot.
36. I think this guy is hot, too.
37. My little brother has way more style than I do.
38. Your little brother has way more style than I do.
39. I love singing along to "Baby Got Back."
40. I have to end this list on an even number.

So...let's have it. Where's your list?

Quote of the Day

2005-08-23T14:52:00.000-07:00

Then the time came when the risk it took
To remain tight in a bud was more painful
Than the risk it took to blossom.

~Anais Nin

Here's to getting out of our buds...

My English Patient

2005-08-17T08:40:00.000-07:00

So, yesterday I took my boyfriend to the hospital to have minor outpatient surgery. I should say that I have only been to the hospital for medical reasons once...and that was 29 years ago...and kind of my mom's fault. But, every other time I've been to the hospital for non-medical reasons, I come away with this altruistic sense that I would've been such a great nurse. (Nevermind that I'm not that much of a people person, and that I ran away from home whenever it was time for a doctor's visit.) Still, I picture myself as a Snow White-like nurse, floating around the hospital...comforting patients...bringing cheer and calm...birds chirping and perched on my shoulder. So, I found myself looking forward to taking care of him later that day as he recovered.

But, as we sat filling out pre-op paper work, I was nervous down to my veins. Scared that he wouldn't wake up from it, that there would be pain, that they would do the wrong procedure, that they would donate his body to science. I tried to exude cheer and calm...chanting 'Snow White...Snow White' to myself in my head. I can't tell you how many times I had to swallow that lump that kept welling up in my throat. The nurse was kind and let me go back to pre-op with him. Decked out in a paper gown, booties, and a little cap that made him look like a French chef...he hopped up into his hospital bed. Polite chit chat ensued with the various nurses that came by to check vitals. This actually helped take my mind off of the pool of nausea that was filling up my stomach...until the IV went in. As the nurse was giving a running commentary on how strong his veins are, I think the color drained out of my face, the room all the sudden looked like an Andy Warhol painting, and my knee caps turned to Jell-O. I had to sit down and lay my head on the bedrail. Nurse, can I have a little laughing gas...just to take the edge off? No problem, I thought. I could still be a nurse...I'll just have a cocktail before work every day.

They gave him a little drug to relax him. After he was sufficiently slurring his words, they whisked him off into surgery. I think I heard him singing "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" as they wheeled him away. In the waiting room, I read everything that wasn't nailed down. The doctor came out to tell me everything went great (big exhale). Later, I rounded the corner to the recovery room to find the cutest patient propped up in his bed, sipping water out of a little straw. My altruistic feelings returned and I think I actually heard the sound of birds chirping somewhere in the distance. I was just about to break out into song...and then the nurse came by to take the IV out. I saw stars. Luckily, there was a chair behind me to catch my fall. Nurse, where's that laughing gas?

Humph. I guess this Snow White stuff is for the birds...or at least not for the faint of heart (or stomach). But, taking care of my patient later that night was as fun as I predicted. Thanks to Blockbuster, two pints of Ben and Jerry's...and the absence of needles.

Hold that Thought...

2005-08-13T08:33:00.000-07:00

Technical difficulties and a busy schedule have caused me to take a blogging hiatus. And by "busy schedule," I mean that every time I sat down to blog...there was something good on tv.

So...here's what's new and random. Actually, it's just random:

~~~I recently rediscovered the library in downtown Phoenix. It has a big city feel...lots of eclectic glass and granite and Willy Wonka-like elevators. Having only a few minutes to grab a book, one title caught my eye: 'Runaway Eating.' As a girl who is not above using food for comfort...I found this interesting. Could I be a Runaway Eater? Cut to me an hour later at IHOP, taking the "Are You a Runaway Eater?" quiz....while waiting for my butter-laden pancakes to arrive. I think we know the answer.

~~~My boyfriend graciously allowed me to borrow his dog, Viva, for a few days. My thinking is that I can use her to meet people at my new apartment. It's been over a month, and I've yet to see a living soul on my floor. (I'm beginning to wonder if I'm in a bad Hitchcock movie.) But, it seems like everyone and their dog congregates on the grass outside to shoot the breeze. I want to fit in. I need a dog. What I forgot about Viva is that while she's cuddly and cute, she's also somewhat of a playground bully. Instead of finding myself easing into conversation with folks while we watch our dogs play nice...I find myself apologizing and doing doggie PR. "Sorry she jumped up on your skirt...chased your kid...peed on your shoe...ate your mini-poodle." Just kidding. It's not that bad. The poodle wasn't really hurt.

~~~I'll file this under the "Say Anything?" category: You know that feeling in relationships where you want your significant other to share everything that's on their minds...every little thought? Well...do you ever think that's maybe not such a great idea...especially the more comfortable two people become with each other? Let me give you a few examples. If you had hung around me and the boyfriend in the past few weeks, here's what you might've overheard:

***To be fair, these comments are especially funny to me because I happen to be dating a guy who is the world's most sincere and best compliment giver. So, I guess I can't complain. But, still...read on.***

(at the beach)
Me: "Hey, do I have sand on my forehead?"
Him: (looking intently at my forehead) "Inspite of all that surface area, no."

(still at the beach)
Him: (laughing)
Me: "What?"
Him: (still laughing)
Me: "What!? Tell me what you're thinking." (This is me falling into the trap!)
Him: "Okay...senior citizen swimsuit competition winner."
Me: "What?! This bathing suit is a classic!"

~~~My to do list:
1. Remove phrase "Tell me what you are thinking" from my vocabulary
2. Go swimsuit shopping

~~~Here's my new favorite museum (on the west coast, that is): http://www.getty.edu/

Culinary Discovery

2005-07-27T06:31:00.000-07:00

One of the best things about living downtown is the opportunity to be an urban explorer. I haven't had the chance to venture out all that much yet, but so far I've discovered a yoga shop (Not to be confused with a "yogurt shop." Talk about a let down if you go in expecting that.). Around the corner is a fair trade coffee joint called, appropriately, Fair Trade. They're affiliated with a local church and they have the best Irish Cream coffee--and live music on Friday nights. There's a retro little breakfast place on 1st Street and McKinley called Matt's Big Breakfast. The pancakes are the fluffiest I've ever had.

Last night J and I made one more urban find. (Okay...I had nothing to do with this discovery. I actually didn't want to go in.) Carly's is an eclectic little bistro on the corner of 2nd St. and Roosevelt. They serve Mediterranean sandwiches, salads, and other cheesy/olive-type dishes. We split a plate of flatbread with hummus and olive tapenade and the Ex-Patriot sandwich. All delish. J's comment was that it's good, but it's no IHOP. I almost choked on my olive. The icing on the flatbread is that the hours are convenient (open 'til 10 on Tuesday, 'til 12 on Wednesday and Thursday, and 'til 2 a.m. on Friday and Saturday, when they have a DJ). It's nice to find a place downtown that doesn't just cater to the 8 to 5 crowd.

The only negative: the women's restroom door is sticky and I got stuck in the bathroom. I had to deploy a Jennifer Garner/Alias-style kick to get it open...only to find someone (who shall remain nameless) laughing at me. Hmm. You, my friend, can go back to IHOP.

Are My Legs Still Attached?

2005-07-24T19:24:00.000-07:00

I spent the weekend in my home away from home: the Grand Canyon. Though I am a city girl at heart, the canyon has owned a piece of my soul since I first hiked it in August of 1992 with my family. Back then at the unfortunate age of 15, I was more concerned with what the heat was doing to my hair than with the beauty of the trail. After getting in a few more hikes, and some perspective on my hair, I fell in love with the most famous hole in the ground. I'll hike it three times in a good year, and my parents--well into their 50s--can still hold their own against it.

My friend Jenn has become my canyon companion. She, an Arizona native, hiked it for the first time with me 4 years ago. She doesn't know it, but she revolutionized the canyon experience for me. Pre-Jenn, my approach to the hike was to get from point A to point B. With headphones on, the goal was simply to make short work of getting out of the beast. Jenn opened my eyes to the hidden fun in taking your time on the trail. In our years of hiking it together, we've developed a few traditions:

1. Never Too Many Pictures: A self-timer is a canyon hiker's best friend. I can't tell you how many hours we've spent at various resting stops, propping the camera precariously on a backpack to capture ourselves with cream cheese smeared on our faces.
2. Trivial Pursuit Champs: The canteen at Phantom Ranch (the campground and lodging oasis at the bottom of the canyon) opens up after dinner. Depending on how sore the legs are, everyone walks, hobbles, or crawls back in the evening to play cards, drink Tecate, and swap stories. Tattered board games, probably donations from canyon regulars, sit on a shelf in the corner...below an old guitar that is always out of tune, but always a delight to hear. Jenn and I are always up for a good game of Trivial Pursuit. Our favorite adversaries were a father and son from France. Even with one too many Tecates in them, they still knew more American history than we did!
3. Breakfast on Bright Angel Bridge: This suspension bridge crosses the Colorado river and connects the Bright Angel trail to Phantom Ranch. Crossing the bridge at 4 a.m., we stop and sit over the roaring Colorado--passing time eating granola bars, staring at the moonlit canyon walls. And, of course, posing for pictures.
4. Canyon Questions: Very few places can make you feel so small as the inner gorge. And the 9- mile hike out gives you plenty of time to contemplate life and your place in it. Almost every trip, we come up with a few good canyon questions--those gut check questions that force you to articulate your five year plan, your favorite childhood memory, one thing you want to change about yourself...or the person you're hiking with. Most importantly, canyon questions help take your mind off the fact that your quads--and every other leg muscle you have--are going up in flames.
5. Calories Out, Calories In: The canyon is no place to go on a diet. While trail food consists mostly of grains, nuts, and other twig-like snacks...dinner at Phantom Ranch is some well-deserved beef stew, mixed salad, and chocolate cake--all served family style. On the way back to Phoenix, we always stop in Flagstaff for Arbys. (I know, you're thinking "Why not at least treat yourselves to Buster's or Strombolis, for crying out loud?" Don't ask. We're simple girls and suckers for curly fries.)

This latest hike featured all of the above traditions, minus the canyon questions. Unless you count, "Who would you rather not be: one of the Olsen twins, or Lindsay Lohan?" I'd post a few pictures for you, but our hair looked just awful. (Some things never change.)

A look down at Indian Gardens (the long thin trail in the center). It's the half-way point.

Salty Dog

2005-07-21T20:34:00.000-07:00

I am currently sitting in the back seat of my boyfriend’s Pontiac Vibe. We’re on our way back to Phoenix after a quick trip to San Diego. Seated next to me is his dog, Viva. She’s a border collie that likes to bark at or chase anything with a motor or a pulse. Today was her first day at the beach. She ran her doggie heart out and took in much sand and salt water. The latter has been coming up every hour on the hour. My boyfriend’s roommate is in the coveted passenger seat up front, out of range of Viva’s salt water spew.

This trip west was partly an excuse to do something fun on my BF’s birthday, partly an excuse to get out of Phoenix, which lately feels more like the valley on the sun—less like the valley of the sun. (On the way out here we stopped for ice cream in Gila Bend and it came out of the dispenser already melted.) Even though I will be crawling into my own bed very late tonight and getting up early for work, it was well worth it. Now we’re wrapping the trip up with a San Diego tradition: In-n-Out burger. Not such a novelty now that they’re cropping up all over Phoenix.

Getting the salt off of Viva:

Hide the Knives

2005-07-17T06:44:00.000-07:00

Well, here it is. My first ever blog post. I don't know how I've managed to escape this trend thus far. I've always been something of a late bloomer--I guess even when it comes to technology.

(All of the sudden I feel pressure to be deep, insightful, and witty.) (I think I'm suffering from blog fright.)

I'll start simple by describing my surroundings. I'm sitting in the living room of my new apartment downtown. I moved here from my old apartment in Arcadia, which friends affectionately called the 'cell block,' just a few weeks ago. The place was old, made of cement, situated in a seedy little pocket on the corner of 40th and Camelback, and resting on the largest ant hill in Phoenix. My first week there, in addition to adjusting to the suspiciously skinny parking lot spots, I had to deal with an ant infestation...in my closet. My old roommate and I originally chose that apartment to save some money...perhaps for a trip to Europe. I can handle anything if I know a trip to Europe is the light at the end of the tunnel. (Here's the score after a year of living there: Money saved: $500; Trips to Europe: Zero.) Hardly worth it. Early on in our stay, my roommate got a 'get out of jail free card' when she accepted a job across country. For 10 months, it was just me and the ants living there. I slept with the lights on and a steak knife under my mattress.

It's amazing the difference surroundings can make on my domestic state of mind. Living in downtown Phoenix is like a breath of fresh air. (Figuratively, of course. Have you seen the brown haze down here?) Finally, I'll get to live out my dream of being a single chick in the city (even if it is a city where everything pretty much shuts down after 6 p.m.) The best part: sleeping with the lights off, and keeping the knives where they belong: in the kitchen.