Red Hot Shop

Oh, Target. What will you come up with next? First the $1 bins, now this: the Red Hot Shop. Like so many other things, am I behind on this? I hope I'm not the only one who just discovered it today.


It's a round-up of Target's best secret stash that you can't necessarily get in your local store. Strapless dresses, cool gadgets, housewares, and crafty gifts—a make-your-own-bag kit and screen-printing kit? Yes, please!

Wish I woulda known about this before Christmas shopping ...

Front Row Seat to Hear Ol' Jonny Sing

I've been remiss in not posting about the amazing Roots Festival that I went to a few nights ago with Nikki (who is now a Kansas resident!) and her friend. It's a blues and BBQ festival in teeny Paola, Kansas, (about 45 minutes from my parents' house) and apparently it's been going on for 19 years. I'm a terrible former Kansas resident, because I had no idea it even existed. But I went to see Jonny Lang and he was, as always, amazing--especially from the front row.



See this girl? She jumped up on stage and played the shaker with Jonny, saying it'd always been her dream (to be on stage with Jonny, not necessarily to play the shaker). She rocked.


I haven't been loving up enough on Kansas City. It is home and will always be home, and I know I will end up back there someday. Leaving there is getting progressively harder and harder. After moving yet again today, I think I'm ready to put this in writing: I'm done moving. Either I stay here forever, or I go back to the prairie.


There's no place like home ... (sorry, I had to)

Kansas City, Here I Come

Or, more accurately, Kansas City, Here I've Been.

It's been two weeks since I've left Portland. And since then, I've been to nine states: Oregon, Washington, Georgia, Missouri, Kansas, Illinois, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Iowa. It's been a busy few weeks. It's keeping my mind away from being currently unemployed (which really, I'm not, considering I've kept up my income and then some freelancing ... thank goodness).

My days are filled with applying for jobs, working on freelancing, sending out packets of cover letter, resume, clips, cover letter, resume, clips.

And somewhere in between, I went to a good friend's wedding, saw my friends from college, came home, (cover letter, resume, clips, yet again) then went up to Des Moines for a few days. I mostly went to get a bit more freelance work, but ended up squeezing all I love about Des Moines into 48 hours: went to the fair (you do know it's on of the 1,000 Places to See Before You Die, right?), had salad and pizza at Centro, enjoyed wine and cheese on a good friend's porch, had a bean burrito at El Rodeo, sat outside at Snookies, and woke up early to spend all morning at the world's best farmers market (sorry, Portland, I love you, but Des Moines kicks your butt when it comes to farmers markets).




I realized one thing: I'm lucky. I'm a lucky lucky lucky girl. Not only do I have friends all across the country, I have good friends who honestly care about me and my happiness and success. And who will eat bad Mexican food with me, go for a swirl cone at Snookies right afterward, then sit around and watch the Olympics on a Friday night.



For a while upon coming back to KC and leaving Portland, I was afraid I couldn't really ever come home again; that things change too quickly and they won't ever quite be the same when you return. To be honest, I did feel a bit like an outsider in Des Moines, not living there anymore. And I think what I'm really afraid of is that some day, I'll go back to Portland and it will be so different than when I was there this year -- that Portland will have forgotten me.

But, I never felt such a warm homecoming as when I did going back to Des Moines. I was booked solid with breakfasts, lunches, coffees, and dinners. I can only hope New York welcomes me back with such open arms; and that Portland will, too, when I find my way back there even for just a visit.