I am a bit of a klutz at times. Mostly I drop things. Usually my phone. The iPhone has miraculously avoided any slip-of-the-hand calamities up to this point, but really – it’s only a matter of time. If I could show you any one of my old Blackberrys, you would agree. Two years ago Santa gave me a new Blackberry for Christmas because the previous one was completely falling apart. I run with my phone in hand and it was on the trail where it met the pavement most frequently. Every time I visited from DC my dad would perform a BBerry inspection, only to find new dents and scratches. Not a single corner went unscathed. And it’s not that I’m not careful… it’s just such a small slippery little thing. That being said, I clearly need a protective cover for my iPhone but I keep forgetting to look for one.

You know how when you NEED a great dress you can’t find one, but alternatively you stumble upon fabulous items when you don’t have any immediate need for them? Well yesterday the stars aligned and I found something I was in need of, but wasn’t even looking for. As I browsed the newly-released CDs at Target, I stumbled upon this little beauty:

A Hello Kitty iPhone cover. I can’t stop laughing – I think it’s hysterical. Trying to take this picture was a joke because every time I saw the image on my screen I would laugh.

It’s completely tacky, and functional, and awesome. Meeeee-yow!

Tonight is one of my favorite annual events in DC – The Drag Race. It’s where drag queens dress up and race the streets of DC in high heels. Absolutely classic. I have blogged about the 2007 event here and because it’s so awesome, below are some pictures from 2008 which didn’t get blogged for some reason.

I grew up loving Halloween. It’s my mom’s favorite holiday so we always had fun decorations, great costumes and hot homemade soup and apple cider to warm us up between trick-or-treating rounds. It always seemed to drop 20 degrees for the Halloween festivities, and in true Salt Lake City fashion – the snow has arrived!

See those mountains in the background? No? Well that’s because they’re completely covered in snow clouds.

Nothing is worse than having an adorable princess costume and being forced to bury your beautiful gown under a ski parka, hat, scarf and gloves. I remember many years begging and pleading to go out sans winter gear, but when you’re a five-year-old Toothfairy and have nothing but a paper thin dress and sparkle tights as protection from the elements, the answer was always a big fat NO.

Hope you all have fabulous Halloween plans, and to my DC friends – go enjoy the parade for me!

When it’s Monday morning and your e-mail server is down, and your web site is down, and everything seems to be going wrong, you need a treat. Something to make you happy.

And nothing makes me more happy than a little smiley-face pumpkin taffy.

This is one of my very favorite fall treats and just the pick-me-up I needed today. Happy Monday everyone!

If you know me well, you probably know that I hate fish. Well, most fish. Give me a platter of wasabi, and tempura-fried shrimp wrapped in seaweed then topped with raw tuna and avocado and I will kiss you on the mouth – but a scaled creature in a bowl? No thanks. I’ve always maintained the belief that fish are the closest things we have to aliens. If you don’t believe me, you obviously missed the “Creatures of the Deep” special on the Discovery Network. But don’t worry, I can sum it all up for you here: fish are disgusting.

For my mom’s 50th birthday, my sister and I gave her a weekend get-a-way to Seattle and Portland. Michelle recently moved to Portland so my mom and I flew in on Friday and hopped in the car Saturday morning to spend the day in Seattle

I love Seattle, for many reasons. I actually really enjoy the weather, I love the size of the city, and cute Cat lives there. Luckily she was able to meet up with us at Pike’s Market for lunch and shopping. I was so happy to see her.

The central focus of the Market, aside from the incredible flowers that I had to continually remind myself wouldn’t travel in my suitcase particularly well, is the fish market. This is where the crew throws fish purchased by the customers. They sell, they cheer, they throw the fish to each other, wrap it in paper and then hand it to the customer. If you haven’t seen this, you should add it to your bucket list – it’s classic.

We asked to take our picture with them and after the shot one of the guys looked at me and told me to follow him. Completely confused I looked at the girls who cheered and insisted that I go. I didn’t know what was going on, but I followed.

And then I was suddenly behind the fish counter. Still confused. But happy.

And then they informed me that I was catching the next fish.

I wish you could feel the panic that this moment caused me. I begged. I pleaded. I told him repeatedly that I was not the girl for this job. Make Cat do it – Hurry! We’ll switch! I told him that I could hardly catch a frisby, let alone a wriggly, slippery, 10-pound salmon with my bare hands. He didn’t seem to think it was a problem. (Obviously he has never played any sort of athletic sport with me). My knees were shaking. The image of a big flying fish, smacking me directly in the face and knocking me into the fish-gut bucket played over and over in my head. A large crowd began to gather as I insisted in a trembling voice that this was a terrible, terrible idea.

And so the fish-catching lesson began:

You don’t want to catch the fish with flat hands because it will slip right out, he expained as more and more people gathered with cameras pointed in my direction.

You have to wriggle your fingers like this:

Ready? No? Ok!

- Fish flies through the air -

I have no idea. Even now, my heart is racing because the thought of standing in front of a hundred camera-toting tourists expecting me to catch a giant, slippery sea creature is too much to handle. But I did it.

I washed my hands thoroughly but I’m pretty sure that I smelled like fish for the rest of the day.

After Pike’s Cat took us on a tour of the city, stopping by Cupcake Royal, and then we finished off the night with an incredible dinner at the top of the Space Needle. The restaurant rotates slowly giving you a complete view of the Seattle skyline; It really is such a beautiful city.

After dinner we had one last stop for our Mom – tickets to see Wicked at the Paramount Theatre.

It was such a fabulous trip, and I’m willing to catch a smelly fish anytime if it means another a fun weekend with these ladies.

Happy 50th Mom!

Love, Nicole

Below is the arm today. The silver lining is that it’s fall, so I can wear long sleeves and cardigans comfortably. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure people who see my arm assume I either have a drug problem or an abusive boyfriend – possibly both.

I’ve come to the realization that a good phlebotomist should not go unappreciated. I am the squeamish type who hates needles, so I typically consider all needle-armed professionals a necessary evil. I look away when I get my blood drawn and leave as soon as possible without so much as a “thank you for taking my blood and not laughing at my deep breathing while you stuck me with that needle and drained all of the blood from my face.” Nope. I stare at the floor, become extremely pale, and then slowly walk out of the room as soon as they let me.

Last week was no exception. I sat in the chair, pointed to the arm that is best to draw from, looked in the other direction and anxiously awaited the end. The only difference this time? It HURT. And more than a pinch. More than the tetanus shot I’d just received in my other arm. The next day my left arm hurt so badly that I couldn’t straighten it without pain. And then the bruising started – and boy is it ugly. I called my doctor’s office and the nurse insisted that bruising is extremely common, but if it got worse I could come in.

So on day six, when I’m still sore and my arm looks like this, I call again.

Seriously? This cannot be normal. I wish I could show you all in person, because it is that ugly. It starts halfway up my forearm, covers my entire elbow, and then wraps up and around the back of my tricep.

So I call and speak with the nurse again and she tells me to stop by today and she will take a quick look at it. When I get to the office I can tell she thinks I’m making a big deal out of nothing as she walks me back to an exam room. I lift up my sleeve and her reaction was awesome. Blank stare. Blink. Blink. “Ummm. I’ll be right back.”

[Short time passes, Doctor enters the room with the nurse following behind.]

This moment awarded me great satisfaction. No. I was not being a dramatic hypochondriac – well at least not a hypochondriac. After a quick examination the doctor assured me that there were no blood clots, so that is great news, but the phlebotomist punctured my artery which caused the extreme bruising. They went straight through my artery. And he most likely realized it but didn’t tell me. No – sorry, but your arm is going to be SUPER sore tomorrow and you probably won’t be able to straighten it for nearly a week. Oh. And you’ll look like you got your arm slammed in a car door.

So I am newly resolved to smile and thank my next phlebotomist. It is most definitely a thankless job, but when a great service is rendered it deserves some appreciation. So next time you get your blood drawn, if you don’t end up with a wicked bruise like mine, send them a thank you card. Or maybe a fruit basket. And then give me their business card.