Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh... Canada.

I am grossly behind on updating this blog, and there has been a lot to talk about, but no real time to stop and do so. There have been more immigration steps, house hunting, wedding planning, our illnesses, cat illnesses... and suddenly it's July.

So, I'll do my best to catch everyone up with where life is now, and where it's been since I last posted in November (NOVEMBER??? 9 months ago, really?!). 

So, given the position I was put in with suddenly being without a job, I had no health insurance after the first week in October. As I've spoken about a little in this blog, I have several health issues - some life-threatening, and some chronic pain-related - so not having insurance just flat-out isn't an option for me. That put us in one spot: we needed to get married as soon as I moved up, so I could be put on Steve's health insurance through work/put in my PR application with immigration so I could get a health card. 

We got married on December 18th (took us a month to get all of the paperwork in order), in the lobby of our apartment building by a Justice of the Peace. While she was fantastic, I'd been planning our wedding for 5+ years at this point, so the idea of giving up what I'd been working on/dreaming of for us really upset me. We decided this would just be the "official, but not official" marriage, and we'd go on with the actual wedding in the Spring, and celebrate that as our "official" marriage, and anniversary going forward. It's what would've been the wedding if I'd still had my job when I moved up, so it only made sense. 

That being said, above all else, this is a shoe blog. I bought these heels 3 years ago, and literally never even opened the box they were shipped in; saving them for our wedding day. I decided to give them a trial run on the "official, but not official" day, and thank goodness I did. They're PERFECTION, but too small, and I would've been in trouble if I'd had them on for the "official" wedding. But look how pretty!!!

Brand: Taylor Says Name: Til Death

Store: https://taylorreeve.com/

Review: 6" heel. Fits SMALL. I'd for sure recommend going up a size. Keep in mind, I'm used to having my toes squished, and being uncomfortable for the sake of fashion. These were unbearable, and I only wore them for about an hour, if even that. 

Since December, we've been house-hunting like crazy. The market is out of control right now in Halifax. People are listing for $50,000-$80,000 above what their house is worth, and getting it. It's been incredibly discouraging, especially since we waited this long to be together, and now are still waiting to start our life here on our own. We're getting glimmers of hope here and there in the last 2 months, so I'm trying to stay positive and know our house is coming soon.

Other than that, we dealt with health issues (both us, and Gus - our sweet, 18 year old cat), and *I* dealt with wedding, Wedding, WEDDING. That'll come in another post. It was almost 6 years in the making - it's earned a solo post.

I am still holding off on a job search, in hopes that we'll find a house soon, and I can get us through the move before taking on the stress of resumes, interviews, etc. We'll see if that plan changes in the coming months, if no houses come about. 

So, until next time (i.e. THE WEDDING), it's good to be back, and I'll see you all soon... I hope!

O Canada... A Journey.

So, I've spoken over the years in this blog about my long distance relationship, and I THINK about my immigration journey... but long story short if I haven't: 4 years of trying, and here we are: it's time to move to Canada.

The plan for the last 2 years has been for me to continue working for the company I was working for, and working remotely from home. Suddenly that plan fell through when everything I'd been told for 2 years got ripped out from underneath me. I had to make the unfortunate decision to put in my notice, because I now had to figure out what my life was going to be in Canada with this new twist. My income, health insurance, house plan, etc. was all gone thanks to an unfortunate need to not be truthful with me by a company I'd been with for 13 years. It was (and still is) heartbreaking, but life has to go on.

So the full court press started of getting to Canada as quickly as possible. Despite me wanting this to happen within a couple of weeks, too much has to happen when you haven't even gotten started on the end game. I began packing, and tying up loose ends. Hired a moving company (Trans Canada), and just tried to keep moving. My fibromyalgia did not cooperate, and everything came down to the wire (I was packing literally as the truck was being loaded for Canada). Finally all of the details were done, and it was time to go.

This is when the drama started (not that there hadn't been enough to get to this point). I went to Atlanta for the Xtina concert, thinking I'd have a day or two to finalize everything at the house when I got back in town before Steve flew in for us to drive back to Canada that week. I got a call from him on the way home from ATL on Monday that winter weather was heading in for the NE States and New Brunswick at the end of the week, and he had to stay in town to wait on my furniture to be delivered before he could go anywhere. So basically it was either I drive by myself to beat the weather, or we wait on him and pretty much guarantee we go through  a lot of bad roads. There wasn't a choice. I packed up the car Monday night, and hit the road Tuesday morning with the two cats.

Tuesday's drive went slowly at the start because I was so tired from driving from ATL, plus packing all night that I kept having to stop because I was so tired. Once I got a 5 Hour Energy things went smoother (I don't do well with caffeine, so I was taking teeny sips every 10 minutes or so, but it served its purpose). The problem was, I was so mentally exhausted that by the time I made it to Cincinnati, 10 hours of driving and Harvey at her peak of "I'm over this drive" put me at my limit. I knew I couldn't stop at Cincinnati because that would put me in a horrible position for the next day, so I pushed myself to Columbus and stopped for the night.

Wednesday we set off and hoped to make up time. Did pretty well as the day started, then started getting calls. We'd been working with Trans Canada about not knowing whether I would be in town by the time my goods got there or not. They told me Steve could sign for everything as long as they had all of the paperwork signed by him, and a copy of his passport (which we got to them). Steve showed up Wednesday to sign for everything, and border services wouldn't clear it because the goods weren't his, plus he didn't have the B4 form filled out (which Trans Canada told us nothing about). Trans Canada tried to get him first to lie and say they were his, then tried to get him to pay the fee just to get everything across the border so they could keep moving. Steve, of course, refused both. He called me to fill me in on what was going on, then I called the rep for the company to see what he said. He claimed we'd had the conversation about Steve lying to customs the whole time. There NEVER would've been a chance I would've agreed to this, given we've been going at this for 4 years. I'm not going to do anything to put my immigration in danger. Then the dispatch officer called me and claimed the reason the shipment was rejected wasn't because of us not lying about the goods, but because Steve didn't know my status as a resident in Canada. At this point I lost it, because I told him we'd been working on this for 4 years, there was ZERO chance he didn't know that, so I knew I was blatantly being lied to. And between Steve and I, we were getting a different story every single time. I set back out on the road, and Steve spent the rest of the day on the phone with border services/the warehouse, and they both told him to stop talking to Trans Canada, because they were flabbergasted at the position they'd put us into. So I'm talking to Steve at the end of the day Wednesday, completely exhausted both mentally and physically, going down a mountain in the middle of the night, and suddenly I see in my rear-view mirror Harvey has escaped her carrier. That was the straw. I burst into tears, hung up on Steve, and tried desperately to find a place to pull off on the side of a mountain to get her back in her carrier (those familiar with past blogs know my fear of heights, so this was a worst case driving scenario). I got her back in, and we drove for another 2 hours after that/finally stopped for the night in Cromwell, CT.

I knew Thursday I'd have to get up early because I lost almost 3 hours from the drama the day before. I hit the road at 7. That day was pretty uneventful, driving-wise. I get to the border and...

"You can't move to Canada."

I was numb at this point. I let them tell me all the reasons I supposedly hadn't done things right. Once they were done, I asked them if I could go outside to get Steve the keys to the car so the cats wouldn't freeze to death (he'd come to the border with a friend to help me drive the last leg). They were ok with that, so I went out there and immediately told him to get our immigration lawyer on the phone. 2 hours later (the story is too long and complicated to tell) we hit the road towards "home". 5 hours + a dinner stop later, we were able to go to bed. A 15 hour day for me. 

Friday morning, we knew we needed to go to the warehouse to get the paperwork, go to border services to get it stamped, then back to the warehouse to get the goods released. After that, it would just be getting it unloaded at the storage unit. We figured maybe 3-5 hours. Wake up Friday morning: blizzard. Left the apartment at 9:00. Should have taken us about 20 minutes to get to the warehouse. Took us 3 hours. The snow hit almost a day earlier than they were expecting, and was a lot worse than called for. So lots of people didn't have their snow tires on their cars yet, therefore were causing a bunch of wrecks/delays. We had a few things we'd planned to do after the move, and that all got thrown out the window. Thankfully, the actual process of paperwork went super smooth. We got to the storage facility at 3:00, and figured we'd be done around 6:00. We left there just before 8:00. It's a long, frustrating, painful story that isn't worth going into at this point because of how long this blog already is. The one positive thing I WILL say about Trans Canada is the driver was amazing at his job. Problem was, they had him as the driver/unloader, so everything got done wrong in the storage unit, and they had to start over once he saw that was the case. At the end of the day, we had to pay an extra $1500 for the delays that Trans Canada had caused. On top of the thousands we'd paid for the move itself. 

12 states. 2 provinces. 4 days. I told you all we'd have an incredible story for you by the time all was said and done, and this is it... in a VERY condensed version. Apparently 4 years of emotional turmoil wasn't enough.

To give a current update: we're all here in Halifax, and our only current dilemma is the fact Harvey's nose is torn to shreds from busting out of her carrier (the zipper cut it all up). It's looking better every day, I just hate her being hurt. But both kitties are doing well in their new (temporary) environment. Here's hoping we find a house soon so we can start our new lives in Canada!

Something's Gotta Give.

I know better than to proclaim my "health goals" out loud, because that's an instant jinx. My health goals are going to take a LOT of mental work for me to reach (3 years of in-your-face stress has broken me). The physical part is easy, once you break the mental.

That being said, as a very small step, I am going to attempt to start cooking every meal for myself again. I find it's very hard to cook for one. I've cooked for two most of my adult life (and, God-willing, that'll be true again soon). So when I have tried to cook just-for-me over the years, I end up with leftovers, that usually go bad in the fridge because I don't want the same thing again, or I forget about them.

As a result, I've resorted to a lot of simple dishes, or heat-and-eat. And, of course, eating out. I've also noticed when I DO try to cook, I feel like I have to follow a recipe a lot of times. And I have forgotten many of the things I used to cook on a regular basis. My "chef" instinct has faded tremendously. It's still there, don't get me wrong. I can still follow said recipe, but not have to break out the measuring spoons/cups for tsp, 1/2 cup, etc. (any chef worth her salt can eyeball those things). But that natural ability to see ingredients in the fridge, and put a meal together has left me for the most part.

Most of my life, I've been one of those people that knew while I may not always be happy about the weight I was at, I would never be obese, because I'd reach that "frustration level" somewhere around size 8-10-12, and hit the gym hard, to never let it progress to an uncontrollable state. And up until about 2010, that theory held true. I'd usually hit 8, get fed up, get down to a 6- and maintain that for a respectable amount of time.

Something changed after that. I've spoken about my anxiety before, and I don't want to use it as a cop-out for laziness, because there has been a lot of that, but I think it has been the driving force. From 2012, forward, I have gone through a divorce (essentially, though not a legal marriage), moving, beginning the immigration process, my father's death, my step-grandmother's death, my cat's death, changing paths on the immigration process and starting anew, a couple of friends' deaths, family moving in with me, adopting a new cat, my step-grandfather's death, family moving out, and my paternal grandmother's death. Some of which was traumatizing, some just life-changing, but all at least came with a bit of warning/preparation time. Then we capped it off with losing my sweet puppy (of almost-11 years) VERY unexpectedly. Which I still can't fully process. It's like I haven't really had time to "settle" my anxiety in 6 years before the next thing happens. And my health has suffered.

So tonight, I am taking a VERY small step toward the old me, and cooked an improvised/healthy dish. Baked shrimp egg rolls. Nothing but olive oil, shrimp, garlic, spinach, broccoli slaw, and lite soy sauce. Didn't even use the egg for the sealing/basting. So, maybe it's just a roll.

Regardless, I'm making an effort: 

      

Lost and Broken

Tonight starts the first vacation I have had since Christmas last year. I was supposed to be "yelling" VACATIIIOOONNNN on FB, and headed to Summer's house right now, to attend the Bama/UT tailgate tomorrow. That was supposed to be the way I kicked things off before Steve and family members got into town for an epic week.

 And now it all feels unreachable. 

 I know it will still be a wonderful week, with a lot of love. But this is a horrible feeling. Like, when life keeps kicking you, and keeps kicking you, and keeps kicking you... you do what you can to stay positive. To not let it break you. You find the good things to focus on, to just attempt to not completely have a mental break. You say things like "Man, this vacation is going to be AWESOME." And then life is like, "Pshhh. Watch this."

 I don't know what God's plan was for taking my baby from me without any warning. I don't know if he wants to prove to me how strong I am. I feel like the tests I've had on that over the past 3 years have been enough. Losing my father. Losing my cat. Losing 3 grandparents. Losing friends. Not to mention the medical and personal emergencies. And that whole immigration thing. Why one more test? Why take the one true companion I had in life away from me? The reason I am not locked up somewhere in a straight-jacket. She was the one thing that I knew I had each day. Yes, I have the cats here too - but cats are cats. Mine are very affectionate, but even so, they're very self-sufficient. Allie knew that her smile brightened my whole world, even on the darkest days. That if she just sat next to me while I cried, or kissed my tears away, my mood instantly lifted. That no matter how many times she told me how mistreated she was, because she'd only been out 4 times in the last hour, and was given 6 treats instead of the 8 she wanted, I would still listen and give her a kiss to make sure she knew I loved her.

 For 10+ years, she gave me the best love. The unconditional, I-love-you-more-than-bacon love. She was hand-picked by God for me. Sure I thought I was looking for a cat that day. He knew I was looking for Allie. And now she's gone. And I can't stop crying. I'm writing this through tears streaming down my face. Every time I hear a noise outside, or the neighborhood kids yelling, I brace myself for the loud indignant bark that is supposed to come. And it doesn't. And I think about the fact it never will again. My whole world is forever changed. Again.

 And this time I don't know if I am strong enough to get through.

 Rest in Peace, my precious Allie. Mommy loves you with her whole heart.   

Mean Jean

It still doesn't feel real. I've shed a lot of tears over the past couple of weeks. We've been to her house twice to collect/clean out memories. But somehow, my brain is just not really registering that the last of my immediate family on Daddy's side is gone.

When I think of my childhood, I think of two things. Home (Atlanta), and East Tennessee. Mostly Rockwood. From the point I almost drowned at the lake house, to the piano lessons, to the Honeybee Tree game... SO much of my childhood memories are connected to my Nana. "Mean Jean" as she was referred to by our whole family. Which, if you knew her, was the silliest nickname. Given she didn't have a mean bone in her body. Smart aleck? Spunky? Funny? ABSOLUTELY (this runs in the Smith blood). Mean? Not even a little bit. I cannot think of one time in my childhood that Nana even scolded me. I'm sure they're probably there... I just don't remember them.

It's funny how you remember the stupid little things you'll miss when you lose somebody. I used to love to play in the flour canister when I was little. I loved how soft the flour felt between my fingers. I think I even had a little song/rhyme that went with it, but I certainly can't remember it. There might be family members that do. I also loved Nana's tea pitcher. It had this mixer built into the lid that you pumped to mix/stir the drink inside. Think like a TNT detonator. That's how I treated it, as I pumped it every time she made tea. Even in adulthood.

I'll never get to taste that tea again, or pump the mixer handle.

We went this past weekend to sort through as much as we could. Decades worth of memories/clutter is overwhelming. You want to take everything. It meant something to her, therefore it means something to us. But obviously, keeping everything isn't an option. So you have to somehow think realistically. 

I'm lucky that I just had to go through this with my own stuff 3+ years ago when I moved out of my apartment and in with Daddy, planning for my move to Canada (ONE DAY, AMIRITE?!). So I was able to shut off the Katie "BUT IT MEANS SOMETHING" brain, and only take the few little things that I knew I would treasure. Plus one big thing. Nana's house (not Nana herself; the house visits) to me was always about the piano. Even when I got older and didn't sit down to play it. I would plunk out a quick Hot Cross Buns or Chop Sticks, just to reconnect to my youth. It's now in Daddy's house, and will eventually be in mine & Steve's home. I plan on reteaching myself to play the basics, then progressing from there and actually doing what I should have done in my youth, and becoming a piano player - not just a piano plunker. 

This might be the view I'll miss the most. Oooh, baby baby! Buh-buh-buh-baby!

Most of the cousins know this view the best. It's just missing the lower branches to help you climb up to the top.

I remember when the branches of this tree were so low I would try and hide inside of them during hide and seek. 

Mama's tree

I didn't have the pic of me & Liz as kids in front of this tree handy for this then-and-now photo-op. But once I find it, I'll be sure and add it. 30 years later...

    

Shoes, Glorious Shoes! 37

It's been a while. A full year since I posted a shoe blog, and almost 8 months since I posted ANYTHING. A lot has happened. Namely, two surgeries for kidney stones that took about a month 1/2 of my life. Life in general, then a couple of crazy work months. And here we are.

The last couple of weeks have been the hardest hit on my anxiety I have ever had in my life. Not my emotions - that was (still is) easily my father's death. But my anxiety. I am going through something I have only shared with a small handful of people, and it is completely consuming me right now.

The thing is, I have learned over the years to be a high-functioning anxiety-ridden person. Anxiety makes people uncomfortable, awkward, annoyed, etc. It's easier to hide it than it is deal with the consequences of the real world (ESPECIALLY in a professional environment). I'm great at smiling/laughing/joking when inside I'm screaming. It's something I've - in a very obtuse way - written about before. I DO consider myself to be an emotionally strong person. The more I've thought about that over the years, it's because of that wall I've learned to put up. So when "normal" emotional situations present themselves, I can deal. When anxiety situations present themselves, I go into that same "strong" mode, but my brain NEVER shuts up. Ever. I can do 8 million things to try and silence it. Usually at home, I'll have a TV show playing on the computer while I play a computer game. Right now, I have a TV show playing while I write this - and yes occasionally am having to pause the show so I can clearly think through a thought. All the while, my brain is saying "What about...?" "Did you think about this...?" "What if...?" And if there is silence around me? Forget about it. I'll likely end up making myself throw up from the stress.

People that don't have everyday anxiety don't get this, and never will. Everyone understands anxiety. Everyone can have anxious situations. But for it to be all-consuming, where it can make you physically ill... not many people in your day-to-day will get that. They'll tell you to think about other things, or find a way to distract yourself. Which as you can see in my above paragraph, I certainly try to do. On "small" anxiety days, it sometimes works. In times like these - it barely touches my thoughts.

SO...

That heavy intro aside (I promised y'all I was going to be more real going forward - this is me being real) - I decided to distract myself today by dressing the way the-artist-formerly-known-as-Katie would. Heels, matching outfit, and purse. I had a new dress to wear, and perfectly matching Betsey heels and purse. 

And about halfway through the day decided to blog the shoes, as I would have back in the day. So, here they are!

Brand: Betsey Johnson Name: Kissez

Store: Smile.Amazon.com

(I specifically direct you to Smile Amazon, because YOU CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE)

Review: 4" heel. Fits 1/2 size small. As you all know by now, a 4" heel is nothing to me, so these would be UBER comfortable, except the heel part of the shoe is SUPER tight, so rubs a blister on the side of my foot if I don't remember to stretch it out a couple times during the day.

This dress** is so simple, but I love it SO much. It's very Parisian, to me. In fact, it makes me think of the last two episodes of Sex and the City, when Carrie first gets to Paris:

As much as I hated how cheesy they ended the show (even though I loved the actual end result), I was (AM) obsessed with those last two episodes, because EVERY. SINGLE. OUTFIT. was perfection. That was most of my (and plenty of other women's) obsession with the show, was the fashion. Then the hilariously brilliant writing was a bonus. But OMG, those last two episodes. They could not have been any more perfect, fashion-wise. And I'm sure they went all out, given they knew they would never have to worry about budget again (until the movies came around). PER.FECT.ION. 

**Sidenote: that one picture of my dress took me sitting in the grass to set up my camera on my tripod/adjust angles/self-timers, etc. for maybe 2 minutes: and resulted in an hour+ long allergy attack. The joys of being allergic to outside, y'all.

Anyhoo, I know this blog has been all over the place. But that's just where I am right now, so I'm sharing it. See y'all... I dunno when. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in another year. 

      

Road to Oz

I know what you're thinking. "Didn't she already do this blog?!" The answer is no. No, I didn't. I did the first Oz trip. But guess what??? ONE WASN'T ENOUGH.

So one thing you should know about me (or if you know me and are reading this, you already know this about me) is my birthday is usually a big deal every year. A month-long event. While I know this sounds incredibly selfish, it's never been about me drawing it out as much as possible (though don't get me wrong - I'm a Leo - the attention was never turned away). It was more that I had different groups of friends, family, co-workers, etc that I would celebrate with, so it always turned into weeks of celebrations. Well, this year I knew would be different. Everyone in my life is incredibly busy, as am I. So knowing I'd likely not have many celebrations, I decided I needed something different than the usual party at my house or going-out celebration on the actual day. After thinking about it, I decided a trip back to Oz would be fun, and after a few e-mails back and forth with my bestie, Kelly, we decided to go for it!

Now another thing that you should know, and likely have learned, if you're a regular reader of my blogs is I. LOVE. ROAD TRIPS. Hopping in the car and letting adventures happen is one of my most favorite things to do in life. I usually do these type of trips alone, because most people I know hate road trips, or can handle them but want to "hurry up and get there". I was worried about bringing up my fun road trip idea to Kelly until I remembered - she's used to long drives, given she has family in Nebraska. So I tossed it out there: what if we found quirky roadside attractions on the way to and from and stopped to take pictures? She was down with the idea, so I started researching.

The very first attraction I found while searching put my excitement level to warp factor 7.

A TRAIL OF STATUES OF ALL OF THE POPEYE CHARACTERS!!!!

Popeye was one of my favorite cartoons growing up. Mainly, I think, because my family used to tease me that I WAS Popeye (not sure why that didn't upset me, given I used to cry when people would tell me I looked like my Daddy, because I thought they meant I looked like a boy) because of my deep, passionate love of spinach. So the idea of reliving a piece of my childhood was very exciting for me. It was an instant "Add to trip" click. More research turned up a Buried Giant, Giant Concrete Teepee, and World's Largest Wren. We added them to the "if we have time/feel up to it" list.

So stop #1 was Popeye and his friends/enemies. I brought my Nikon and tripod, so we could get pictures with all of the statues with both of us, rather than doing individual pictures with them. We set the timer for 20 seconds and for it to take 5 pictures, so we could switch up poses and hopefully get 1 shot we both liked in the group. Two things you learn while doing this: 1) 20 seconds is either REALLY long, or my camera counted to 142 before starting to snap. 2) You run out of pose ideas very VERY fast. 

Poopdeck Pappy

Castor Oyl

This is where the crazy lady was yelling at us from inside the hospital (see below). We got out of there as quickly as possible.

Sea Hag/Bernard the Vulture

Bluto!!!!!! (I geeked out so much I drove the wrong way in the parking lot)

Rough House

Professor Watasnozzle

Fun in the square!

WIMPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cole Oyl

Olive Oyl and Swee Pea

Alice the Goon

And the Piece de Resistance... POPEYE THE SAILOR MAN!

Now among the things that happened as we snapped these pictures: SEVERAL strange looks (you can't tell me we're the only ones that come to see the Popeye statues), a few fox whistles, a crazy person at the hospital yelling at us from inside, a stop for lunch at a "bar and grill" that didn't have a food menu - "we only have pizza", which I imagine was frozen pizza they would nuke if we requested, and a secondary attempt at lunch... until upon pulling up we realized we'd be shunned instantly because we have lady parts. This is a Man's World...

Chester, IL - you are interesting.

And so we moved on. Next up: the Buried Giant. Not gonna lie, the pics we saw of this beforehand didn't do it justice. It is MASSIVE. A really awesome sculpture. I would've loved to have been able to get pictures of it with no one there. But people have kids, and stuff. 

So by the time we finished at the giant, we plugged in the address for the teepee, but got distracted by an outlet mall. Much shopping fun was had. As we got back on the road, we realized we were going to lose our light. So decided to go on to the hotel, and possibly hit the teepee/wren on the way home Sunday. Well, thanks to a random we-don't know-why traffic delay and a MASSIVE downpour (seriously, I was stressing - I don't see well at night anyway, thanks to my astigmatism - the rain made seeing to drive near impossible), our transit time got increased tremendously, and it became a matter of "What is our backup plan?" We had planned to try out a Mexican place in Manhattan, KS - where our hotel was - that night, but there was no way we'd be getting there before the kitchen closed. So we switched our plan to Party in the Room. Found a liquor store (That's a whole 'nother story. Good heavens.), got our wine, and hit the road again. This is actually the point the downpour hit, I got a bit ahead of myself. So, additional delay. By the time we actually got to the room/settled it was about 2 in the morning. We were exhausted. No party. Bed. Day one: 18 hours.

So on to Oz! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KATYBUG!!!!!!!!

Last time I went as Dorothy. For my birthday, a Wicked Witch felt more appropriate.

I took a ton of pictures at the museum and winery as I did last time, but they're a lot of what you saw on the previous blog, just with a better camera. So, in an attempt to long-story-short this blog (lost cause), I'll skip that and just give you this:

They were so sweet to put this in the party room for me!

A birthday selfie is required.

So after finishing our day at Oz, we made our way back to Manhattan. Did a little shopping, then went to dinner at Tallgrass Taphouse for birthday dinner. Rooftop dining with perfect weather, craft beer, yummy appetizers... can't ask for much more. 

Plus, you know, this girl. :-)

Back to the hotel to rest up for the drive home the next day. Or that was Kelly's plan, anyway. Our day had too much going on, plus I needed to research the alternate route we were taking home for must-see stops. Katie-brain does not allow sleep when that much is happening. That being said, I was EXHAUSTED, and was reading sentences 4 times without understanding them. So, I made myself to go to bed and decided to plan our drive home the next morning, as I knew I'd have time while Kelly got ready (I'm a fast get-ready person. She is not.).

So the next morning, I discovered our alternate route still led us past the wren and teepee. And also discovered we'd be passing the World's Largest Fork. TRIP. BOOKED. 

Total time for Day 3 was 12 hours. We encountered the wren, teepee, and fork. Tried an antique mall, but it might as well have been called a glass mall, as everything was glasses, goblets, crystal serveware, etc. Tried to stop at Osceola Cheese, and the line to get to the cheese was insane. Had I been by myself, not gonna lie - I might've stuck it out: I LOVE ME SOME CHEESE, Y'ALL - but for the sake of Kelly's sanity/the trip home we skipped out and kept going. 

So here are the pics from the last of the Katybug Birthday road trip. I have some pretty "Katie's future photography business" pics as well, that I will likely add as a gallery to this blog eventually. I just need time to go through them and pick my favorites, edit, etc. This blog has already taken me two days. I don't need to delay it further. You get what you get, and you'll like it. Please like it. Again, I'm a Leo, I need attention...

I hate birds. I was ok with this one.

It is GIANT.

I feel like this fork deserves a meal beneath it!

So, anyway - Happy Birthday to me. On to more adventures!!