yesterday i wrote a post while my favorite gal was pounding out a 4.5 hour nap. before i sat down to write that post i had just worked out for an hour, showered, cleaned the house, watered the flowers and done a substantial amount of online window shopping.
what i'm saying is this: dear god, can you hear me? it's me, karli. you know...the gal who periodically checks in when i'm in a tough spot. like that one time i asked for your help to finish those last three miles in my half marathon. i was quite positive i was going to crumble into a ball like those ironman finishers. but i didn't. thanks for that.
so now i need your help again. not only am i asking you to make my kaye nap for 4.5 hours every day, but i wrote a post yesterday about having to work out every day in june. well...it's day four and things aren't looking great. i feel physically ill. can you make my aversion to consecutive workout days go away? are you telling me i need more milkshakes? just give me a sign, i'll do it.
okay...so now that we've taken care of the personal business, it's probably pretty important i introduce you to my new friend, nina. lord knows if i ever make it to chicago i'll be calling this gal up...if only to meet her family.
(she says they need a reality show. this is awesome because i LITERALLY think i need a reality show as well.)
(also interesting, i have a cousin who produces reality shows. are you reading woody? well, are you? tv gold out here in idaho...and maybe chicago too! fabulous lives of farm wives...think about it.)
quite enough about me and my epically tired body and my need for attention...let's get to know nina.Flowers in my Hair and apparently, I'm an adventurer. I use the word apparently because I always thought adventures meant heavy backpacks, hiking boots, and boiling water before you drink it. Then I moved across the country–leaving my big, fat, Italian family in Chicago for San Francisco–where I knew no one. And I became an adventurer...without buying hiking shoes.
I fell in love with SF (you can fall in love with a city) over the two years I lived there. A week ago, I said goodnight not goodbye to the fair SF and moved back to Chicago. This is another adventure, one where my mod fam (as I lovingly refer to them) play a supporting role. (I cannot emphasize how badly Bravo needs to call this group for a reality show.)
back to Chicago isn't giving up or giving in; it's actually the opposite. Regardless, one of my biggest fears is settling (also, sharks) and so I string together mistakes and successes in the everyday. You have to, you know, when you're adventuring, taking risks, and leaping, always leaping.
sister who is constantly pointing it out to you. But don't misunderstand. This is not the blog version of I Hope You Dance. I keep it real because I don't know how to do otherwise. So yes, you'll find gorgeous photos of the gorgeous cities but you'll also hear about the homeless guy who spit on me on my birthday (to be fair to this man, he was aiming at my friend who dodged the arc of spittle and left me in the line of fire). Beside adventures and sarcasm, I'm a writer (and I'm kind of wondering why no one has offered me a book deal yet). In the meantime, I'd love for you to come along for the ride.
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