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About ramblinwoman

I call a small, Minnesota town home. I'm a lover of life and all the simple things. Currently I spend my time enjoying my 20's and everything it has to offer, the good and the bad. I have a horse that acts much more like a dog. I have an undeniable love for "junque" and repurposing the old into something new and useful. Yes, I'm Norwegian, not full blooded by any means and I can't say I know the lost art of lefse making but I do enjoy Lutefisk...the good stuff....not the jelly you buy at the local grocery store. This is my first attempt at blogging, I'm a rookie and it will certainly show. However, I thoroughly enjoy putting my thoughts into words and spinning a regular, everyday incident into something a little more entertaining. I hope you enjoy the rambling!

What Would A Kid Do?!?

Many of you have seen at least a time or two, a side by side comparison of adult behavior versus child behavior. For whatever reason there’s a crossing over of sorts when you become of a certain age. Unlike the movie Baby Geniuses, I don’t think this switch happens at the transition of babble to broken English but more so at the time we start practicing modesty.

Just think about it….there comes a point when we can no longer run around half naked and consume an endless amount of sugar. We become more refined, groomed and we develop this awful sense of conformity. Not that growing up is all bad but realistically there are a few things I wish I could still get away with. If you read Knee High Perspective then you’d know much of my inspiration on this topic comes from my nieces. Since my childhood won’t be coming back around anytime soon I often live vicariously through them.

From eating preferences to choice in clothing, I sit and ponder the outcome of such behavior from an adult. For example: If I chose to wear my prettiest princess costume to work they’d label me as manic and send me home on an unpaid mental health day. My niece wants to look like Snow White for a day….no biggie…totally normal. Pffff, whatever….where’s the 7 dwarfs?!? She isn’t even playing the part right but people will tell her every day of the week and twice on Sunday how stinkin’ cute she is! This is how I know our society is rigged.

Sharing is caring. In the grown up world, yes. In child’s play, heeeeck no. Get your own Legos, dinosaur movie, stuffed animal and don’t even think about eating my Cheetos. Freeloader. If I could apply this to my everyday struggles I’d be set. No you can not borrow my whiteout, pen, scissors, phone charger or my money and no I still don’t want to share my Cheetos. How wonderful the corporate world would be if office supplies were completely out of reach for sharing. Imagine the look on your co-workers face when they swing into your office , “Can I borrow your staple puller quick?” Answer back with a sober faced, “No, it’s mine.”

How many of you as a child were excused to go play when something boring was taking place? Whether it be during grown up conversation or while grown-ups tried to complete mundane chores. Regardless, where is this option for me now? How wonderful it would be to hear…..”Kelsey this meeting is going to be long, drawn out and won’t pertain to you in any way, so why don’t you just go play.” Ha! I’d draw up a Boss of the Year certificate with my sharpest crayons and brightness markers just to show my appreciation.

Which brings to mind how creepy it would be if adults drew each other pictures harboring zero artistic skill.

So you’ve just finished lunch…maybe you had spaghetti or last night’s sloppy joes. Both could be a little messy. Perhaps you dropped some on yourself. No worries. Leave it there, you’re just gonna get dirty next time you eat anyway. Because we’re civilized you should probably clean your face but if you washed that meal down with Kool-Aid you’ll be wearing a perma-smile the rest of the day. Wear it proudly.

Oh wait, you’re 27….nevermind, what the hell is wrong with you!

You’re out for a nice dinner with friends or maybe a business meeting for the evening. Uh-Oh too many brewskies, gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now! Shucks, you’re on the inside of a booth 2-3 people deep! Instead of creating the awkward situation of making everyone get up and doing the hop, scoot, slide out of the bench seat. Just do a slither number under the table….drop on all fours and crawl under the table. If you’re sneaky enough no one will even notice. If they do, be polite and apologize but assure them you’ll be right back. At the edge of the table start a full sprint to the potty. I’m not sure if this behavior is only acceptable in certain establishments but if my memory serves me right….Pizza Hut never complained.

As adults we are taught constructive communication. When it’s appropriate to use inside/outside voices, to not argue in public, pick our battles and express emotions at the right times. I think that most adults revert back to non-constructive communication after a few too many alcoholic beverages. That being said, this is an instance where child-like behavior is socially acceptable. On the flip side, let me remind you that kids can often act like tiny drunk adults. Now that perspective is much more entertaining!

To bring unexpected entertainment to your daily life, do me a favor and ask yourself….WWAKD? (What would a kid do?)




Norwegian At Its Best

Over the years it’s become obvious my family is happier at home. They rarely leave the farm and are content with enjoying their familiar surroundings. There’s surely nothing wrong with this but you can imagine my excitement when there was suddenly talk of trip. A trip at short notice, no time to mull over it and certainly not enough time to sit and ponder an excuse to get out of it. That being said I had to make sure I took part in this mini vaca.

This mini vacation took place in South Dakota. To sum it up I’ll use the old “God’s Country” phrase. Between the rolling hills of round bales, cows, cowboys and just all around beautiful landscape I was in awe. I’ve been to SD on business but never to stop and take it all in. I’m happy I went, it was short and sweet but certainly worth it.


I’m not Native American and honestly know nothing about their views, way of life or all around culture. I can say that aside from the basic perception of their culture they are an intriguing group. If “group” isn’t PC I apologize, I mean well. They’re a very proud group and show it.

Anyone who embraces their roots is generally passionate about where they came from and intend on upholding what was accomplished by those before them. After visiting Crazy Horse Memorial, the museum and viewing their annual blast it’s apparent that is exactly what the memorial is all about….people carrying on tradition to keep it alive.

You know how I love a little inspiration so here it goes…

I won’t give you a sappy write up of my family tradition….who my great ancestors were or a touchy feely rendition of what it is my “people” are trying to carry on. Instead, I’ll paint a picture of how a family that is made up of some truly strange characters influenced one individual into being a descendent of the same stature. Bare with me, I’m not much of an artist but I’ll do my best.

Laughter at inappropriate times: This characteristic is a real gem. Those before me have made it an absolute must to have their funny bone tickled at the most inopportune time…usually silence, times of awkwardness, misunderstanding and the occasional unfortunate event. I’ve discovered no rudeness is involved with this, at least not at first. If it’s followed by numerous outbreaks it’s probably because we have completely checked out and we’re now in it for our own entertainment.

A fowl mouth: You may think I’ve spelt this wrong but I haven’t. Never heard of it? Well, most haven’t. It’s a mixture of flying off the handle, verbally flipping the bird and a ruffle of hypothetical feathers. If at any point someone in my family tree is riled, passionate, excited, frightened, or simply ….relaxing….their view will be spewed, to most, in an offensive manner. Again, we mean well. We just really, really, really mean it. And somehow, “Gee that little rascal rubs me the wrong way,” just doesn’t cut it.

Absurd humor: All around I blame our humor on why it is I rarely make a GOOD friend. If you can’t take the sarcasm, the less than PC verbiage, innuendos or follow our irradic train of thought we probably can’t hang out. You’d never survive, just saying.

Use of words: I’ve been told I have a way with words but that’s all in part to hearing the genius use of words first hand. When I say genius I don’t necessarily mean brilliant or even educated. I mean the kind of genius where you find yourself asking, “Why didn’t I think of that?” This weekend I heard a medical term for male anatomy used as a way of describing someone with less than acceptable behavior. It. Was. Awesome.

Short temper: I can’t speak for everyone but I’ve noticed numerous individuals in my family suffer from a short fuse. To each their own with what it is that lights that fuse but I now understand why I have an irrational anxiety of very basic things. Repetition, annoying noises, arguing and indecisiveness.

Snorting: This is rather embarrassing. If you’ve never heard a real Kelsey laugh, you aren’t missing out. There’s a snort involved. Yep, I’m a snorter. Usually only once and it has to be funny on an above average scale. This reminds me of the new laugh my sister acquired on our partial family vaca. If you could imagine the giggle of a My Little Pony then you’d be hearing the song of her people. Maybe it was the change in altitude, nonetheless I hope it’s here to stay.

Sense of family: On a more serious note…. my family, in my opinion, is very close.  We fight, we bicker, go lengths of time without talking but if you say anything bad about my family, there will be a problem. A problem likely consisting of a verbal lashing but we won’t got there because this is a positive message. In the same breath we’re all very serious about any kind of relationship so it’s not exactly family specific.

Odd shopping habits: After making fun of my mom for buying some homely stitched whacha-ya-ma-callit I realized I was in no position to judge. Hours before that I dropped a nice chunk of change on a floor covering for my living room. It’s big and its cow. It’s also my house and if people don’t like it…that will be just fine. I however, couldn’t live without it…then it hit me, mom probably felt the same about her gross doily thing. What can I say, it runs in the family.

Last but not least….

Norwegians: This blog wouldn’t be what it is today if I didn’t have my Norwegian heritage to blame. Since I’m all about a good laugh here is a little Norwegian humor.

In regards to new age technology:
Log On: Makin' da vood stove hotter!
Downlaod: Gettin' da vood off da truck!
Hard Drive: Gettin' home in da vinter time in da snow!
Laptop: Vhere da kitty sleeps!
Software: Dem dang plastic forks and knifes!
Port: Fancy vine!
In regards to medical terms:
Artery: The study of paintings
Barium: What you do when CPR fails
Dilate: To live longer
Hangnail: A coat hook
Protein: In favor of young people
Tumor: An extra pair
Urine: Opposite of you're out

*Compliments of Bergquist Imports




Pitch of the Click

What determines a friend? Or even friendship for that matter. Is it similar interests, same class of humor, honesty or morals? Surely there’s many avenues to friendship but I think its safe to say we all have our groups. Friends from high school, work, neighbors, church and the list goes on.

After a weekend spent with a mix of old and new friends it made me reflect on why it is I occupy my time with certain people. What qualities they have that draw me to them and what the basis of our friendship is. Questions that I’d usually answer, ” I don’t know, because they’re fun!”

As important as fun should be in any relationship it’s not always first and foremost. My best friend would never be afraid to tell me when I’m being a jack-donkey, tell me exactly what she thinks of the company I keep or tell me when I’m being a total unrealistic, psycho. On the flip side, she isn’t afraid to tell me that I deserve better, that I should push myself harder or tell someone else they’re being an unrealistic psycho in my honor.

I’ve met a variety of people from a variety of places, scenarios and events both fortunate and unfortunate. Regardless of where they’re from, how we met, one thing is for sure. The click. The undeniable exchange of, “Yep, this person gets me.”

However, in order to hear this click you’d have to be listening and giving them the time of day. This is what I struggle with. I love the click, I live for the click but I’m terrible at “hearing” it. It would be easy to blame it on my love of obnoxiously loud music but I know that’s not the case. I also have a nasty habit of confusing the click with a rather odd clack….or perhaps yack.

Yes, yack….the sound you make when something is distasteful.

Because I’m human and have poor judgement I will always try something twice….while expecting different results. Very foolish.

I should mention this misinterpretation of a hypothetical sound goes both ways. I meet individuals that I “click” with instantly but disregard because ‘something might not be right with the click’…. it sounds a little off pitch. In return I put up a…pitchy…exterior.

See what I did there ;)  

If I’ve learned anything in the past year it’s that the good people stick around and the bad people find their own way out. But attracting bad relationships shouldn’t be the main event. It might be best to learn straight out the gate and not drag out the same tired, end result.

The focus should be on those that compliment you as a person. Not those that drain you, strain you or shame you.

After all this rambling…

My point is that we all have those that truly know us. They know our quirks, strengths, weaknesses and they respect them. Never choosing to use them against us. These are the people that deserve our attention.

I can confidently say I have friends that could tell you exactly how I said it, if I said it, and if I did it. They know my aspirations, humor, mannerisms and morals. To those….I greatly appreciate you and I wouldn’t change you for the world.

Also, there are a few who may think I haven’t heard the click. As a result of my reflection I’ve slowly but surely heard it. My apologies for taking so long but a big thank you for being aware my pitchy tactics are only skin deep. I could stand to learn a thing or two from you.


HAPPY….Having A Purpose to Pursue You

I’ve been told I have a purpose. Something that I’m supposed to do or produce to fulfill why it is I’m here. Why I’ve met certain people, how I got where I am today, and a reason for the lessons I’ve learned. I believe that one day it all comes together. All our key experiences come flooding back and the pieces start falling together.

It’s not the same “thing” for all of us. For some it’s a significant other, a friend, a career or a hobby. So how is this “thing” found….noticed….or even detected? I’ve heard it called the pursuit, the search….the journey. All of which are fitting but they all insinuate a movement. A movement to find what it is we are chasing.

How silly.

Who has ever wandered aimlessly around their house looking for something that isn’t lost, something that isn’t there or something that doesn’t yet exist? We would all look like crazy people! Yet, maybe we all are crazy from the outside looking in. A bunch of wanderers with no outlet.

Until….until we stumble upon this strange, comfortable, awesome, scary, exciting….”thing.”

I speak for myself when I say its frustrating to not know. The concept is there and understood but it hasn’t yet clicked. So, that brings to me a new light.

Perhaps, we (I) shouldn’t be looking so hard. It might be best to take it as it comes. Live life in a multiple choice fashion. Meet cause and effect head on. And just do what makes you happy. If others question or judge you it’s only because they’re still lost. That in turn leads me to my next theory.

If you are doing what makes YOU HAPPY…..keep doing it. It’ll make all those crazy people that much more crazy.

But….it could possibly inspire others. And that, is also something to pursue…..


Snoozers Don’t Lose

Inspiration is found in strange places. Whether it be inspiration for creativity, problem solving or simply getting out of bed in the morning it can be found nearly anywhere…it just depends who’s looking for it. What if your outlet for creativity started in bed and was based largely on your struggle to get both feet to the floor? Well then you’d be me. The 12 times I push the snooze button each morning results in an abundance of creative tricks, tips and shortcuts that early risers will never know or appreciate.

Before I admit myself to SPA (snooze pushers anonymous) I will tell you the real reason why I’m always late. My mother….good ol’ Pam shared with me her genetic inability to grace anyone or any place with her presence in a timely manner. I’m not sure what the genealogical term is for this or if its a type of phobia in relation to fear of being on time but there’s no way its a personality flaw. If it was, you’d think I’d have my act together by now!

Tardiness is rude, disrespectful and we have been taught to look down upon those who disregard a schedule. It’s not that I intend to offend anyone and I do in fact know how to read a clock. Preferably digital, the ones with hands are do-able just a little more confusing when I’m in a hurry! Instead of seeing this as such a negative trait I feel its only fitting to twist it ever so slightly to make others see that a snoozer really isn’t a loser.

Let’s start with how long it takes an average person to get ready. Okay, the average female….what, an hour? Maybe an hour and a half? Not this chick, I have it down to 20 minutes if its absolutely necessary. You won’t find me taking a ridiculously long shower, fixing my hair or finding time for piddly chores like folding clothes, washing floors or exercising so early in the morning. The way I see it there’s no time for procrastination.

Minus the amount of procrastination it takes to ignore my alarm for an hour. That isn’t the basis of my blog, so we won’t go there. End result: less water used, less damage to my hair and not a single strained muscle before work. 

From what I understand people spend a big chunk of their morning trying to find something to wear and apparently even the night before on occasion. I would know nothing about this. I’ve learned that my first instinct is the fashion forward instinct and you must always follow it because “Ain’t nobody got time for that!” End result: Practice made perfect for anytime a man may be waiting on me….this cures any whining associated with their boredom. Win, win!

Daily I surprise myself with flawless multitasking skills. Answer me this. Who else do you know that can brush their teeth, put on heels and change the song on their morning playlist, all at the same time? Few I’m sure. End result: Multitasking and efficiency are spelled a lot different but realistically they are one in the same. Half the time, twice as much accomplished. Booyah

Speeding tickets are for one time offenders. The poor souls that are never 10 minutes late and those that dismissed instead of snoozed. This is my life….I know exactly how fast I can drive without a speeding ticket, how long it takes to get from point A to B and exactly when I need to pass someone before I’m officially stuck for the duration of my commute. All of these are crucial factors to ensure I won’t be paying out to some grumpy State Patrol in a funny looking hat. End result: I can save hundreds on speeding tickets by switching to snooze.

You can’t speed if you don’t have gas but you can’t make it to work on time if you have to stop for gas. For this reason I have the utmost confidence in my vehicle that once it stops reading at 32 miles till empty, I know it will still get me to where I need to go. I might be rolling in on fumes but hey, its not how you get there….it’s if you get there. And, I have yet to make a call to triple A or phone a friend for a gas can. Winning! End result: Thrill, nothing gets you going in the morning like a little drama. Will I make it or will I be hitch hiking? Oooooh how I love the excitement!

I’ve learned to stay on my toes because even though I’ve been through this a million times there is still room for error. A rushed state of mind can make you forget the necessities. For example, believe it or not my vehicle is unable to start when my keys are left on the counter. It’s also very tricky to get my keys once the house door has been locked. Remember it’s all about the thrill so I don’t keep a spare key. Hehe. End result: I acquired a new skill. Find me a doorknob I can’t get past with a credit card. I dare you.

How does it go? “The early bird gets the worm.” I’m not your average bird so I’ll occasionally find my worm at the bottom of a bottle.

Not that often because worms are gross and so is tequila.







Mr. You’re In My 20-Something….Get Out

As I search the web, entertaining myself with countless blogs and articles. I often see the headlines of people writing about their twenties. I hate to follow suit but what the heck, why not! I’m going be here for another six years so I better embrace it and tell all before I get to my thirties and develop memory loss or worse yet, dementia.

My experience of my twenties may have been different if I was where I used to be, which thankfully I’m not. Looking back its all water under the bridge and it just so happens my bridge is awesome and leads to a really green pasture. I haven’t made it to this quote on quote “pasture” yet but I’m well on my way.

I make it sound like everything is perfect through my rose colored glasses and realistically all is well. But I have this nasty habit of finding people who have terrible morals. They don’t all carry similar characteristics but it turns out they all don’t understand the concept between right and wrong.

In case you were wondering dating in your twenties is awful!  Even the act of getting to know new people in your twenties is awkward. Either you meet them when you are super hammered or you meet them in the morning because you don’t remember meeting them the night before. Of course there is always those handy apps to get you out there and have the full on “twenty” fourteen experience. Which I am proclaiming right now, I will NEVER do!

My married, long-time friend and I were having a cocktail a few weeks back and she admitted she can’t imagine being single at this age. I followed her confession by “I wonder if there’s an adult 4-H I can join.” Riiiighhht? But in all honesty thats how I feel, the bar scene is the same old gross scenario and nobody my age has real hobbies. It’s difficult to find people, even friends, with honest intentions.

I’m not going to sit here and tell you all men are horrible, because they aren’t and I know that. However, it’s my encounters with this strange species that shapes my perception. Lets take a look at the lost pages of a Norwegian girl’s diary….the little black book if you will. This is an outline of people, no names mentioned, that I have had the pleasure of interacting with.

1. Mr. Off The Meds: No joke, I once recieved a facebook message asking if I’d like to go out for supper and a drink followed by “I’m finally off all my perscriptions so I can drink again…woohoo.” I didn’t take him up on his offer.
2. Mr. Pat My Head: After going out to eat with a lawyer/golf cart salesman it was clear we had nothing in common. While leaving the restaurant I seen the dead end sign when he tried to throw me in a snow bank. And it was a no second date confirmation when he patted me on the head in the car. Yep. Patted. My. Head!
3. Mr. Icefishing: The handful of guys who invite me to do really fun outdoor activites, promising cards, beer and hours of B.S.-ing and then they find out that I was under the impression this was a “friend” outing. They then cancel on me. Partially my fault I agree but you can’t be getting a girls hopes up and then not follow through.
4. Mr. Friend Shark: Everyone has heard of this one, an aquaintance or even long-time friend that waits in the dark water, only to emerge when your relationship status has turned to single. Usually much too soon and it results in an emense amount of hurt feelings. Don’t feed the sharks ladies, it never ends well.
5. Mr. Ex-Boyfriend’s Friend: My ex-boyfriend friends are all really awesome, and it seemed as though most were on my side of the fence after the breakup. Turns out a few of them wanted to permanently be on my side of the fence. There’s a fence up for a reason….
6. Mr. Classic Date: This is the scenario when you go on a traditional date, try to get to know a person. They pick you up, they hold the door blah-blah-blah. All very nice and flattering, until a few days later they give you the impression they want to marry you and for you to begin child birth immediately. My biological clock isn’t on a timer and even if it was you’d be the last to know. 
7. Mr. I have a Girlfriend: These ones are usually gorgeous and totally unattainable but for a short amount of time they’ll try to make you believe there’s a chance. Its all a lie, a lttle made up game because they’re no longer in the “game.” Great, all you’ve done is made yourself look like a tool and confirm my original assumption that well….you were a tool.
8. Mr. Unique: I’m not very good with these individuals and I tend to scare easily. Especially if you have an eyebrow ring and you have a bird and a lizard. Both by the name of Zoey/Zoie. My name isn’t Zoe so I have a feeling this isn’t going to work, among other reasons.
9. Mr. Up Front: This is for the guys that aren’t afraid to let it all hang out. The true blue, obscene men that tell you how it is. I love honesty but if you flat out ask me to go home with you, send me risque snapchats or call only after you’ve had a night out with Jack, Jose or Jim….you’re gonna get shot down. No self respecting female is into this….
10. Mr. Clingy: You may have known this person for years or maybe only days. Regardless, he is going to text you every hour because even though he may have given you the impression he has a life, really his life already revolves around you. You may recognize them by “Sorry if I sent a message twice, my phone is acting weird. But did you get my last text about…..” Also recognizable by “Why don’t we talk anymore?” Although your phone clearly states you had a conversation two days prior. My bad, I was busy with breathing…Eeeek!

With my close friends we could have a fun game of, name that dude. But for privacy reasons, we won’t. This one might get a lot of negative feedback but guys and gals alike will be able to relate in some way to at least one of these Mr’s.

I’m far from perfect and I bet each one of these above mentioned people could write a less than tasteful blog about me. That’s the beauty in freedom of speech my friends.

Changing The Score

The word change appears in my posts often and its safe to say I just as often dwell on it. Unlike many other people, I love change. From the expected changing of seasons to the unexpected/unwelcomed change thrown upon us, its all what makes the world go ’round. I can only imagine how uneasy those feel that refuse to meet change head on. They hide in their comfortable box hoping it won’t notice them.
If you accept change, you therefore let go of the negative. When people dwell on, why is this happening to me, why did it turn out that way, its all in negative stride. Negativity and unwillingness to let life change course becomes habit. We all have good habits and we all have bad habits , if you are able decipher what is serving you and what no longer is you are winning half the battle.
I get it, the unknown is uncomfortable. Uncomfortable is associated with dark. Dark is associated with fear. Fear is associated with reluctance. What if you let go of that perspective? Uncomfortable became the new hobby, dark to light, new was exciting and fear the new thrill. It all lies within a choice.
I could most definitely be talking about myself on this one but I often find disappointed in routine. This is a rather extreme way of thinking but I dislike seeing the same cars on my commute, taking the same way home and arriving at the exact same time. Memorizing strangers license plate numbers, predictable by a watch and feeling uneasy about a detour sign is no way to live your life. At least not in my book.
Potential is another great aspect to change. How is ones potential met when the path traveled is so familiar? This is what I will do, only this. Not that, that’s unknown and that might be more difficult.  Pushing yourself is a must, especially if you have goals. Goals were never made from the sidelines, sitting out of bounds on the bench. Get in the game and score some much needed points.
*Reader Warning: This is the only time you will see me referencing anything sports like. I don’t like sports, sure I’ll play but never will I commentate. Unless of course I’m trying to commentate life via a blog.
Then yes, expect more of that behavior.
All I’m trying to say is get out there and do something with yourself different than the day before. You’re as young as you will ever be and perhaps as healthy as you will ever be. Why not make the most of it?

Living in the 9..2..4

It’s long overdue that I have my own place and learn the ropes of life without another person as a crutch. Being female and living alone apparently is some taboo idea that only really “weird” people do, especially if you plan on living in a town hall in the country. I’m not sure what is so odd about living in a town hall, seems perfectly “normal” to me. Nonetheless, I’ve endured the strange looks and the “Oh, really?!?!…Why?” People’s concern for my well being is literally never ending but hey, if it entertains someone I will tell them my story a million times over. To date…I’m still alive and well, I will report back if anything changes.

Along with the personal growth that comes from living alone, the experiences are just as great! Things I have never been good at I am now forced to master or they will be left unfinished. Sure, I’ll admit it can get a little intimidating around home but I’m embracing it and exploring the new and uncomfortable.

After almost three months of flying solo it’s occurred to me that 924 sq ft can be a blessing and a curse. Nothing terrible, but a curse of just, well……awkward.

If you occupy an area the size of most apartments there is a lot of convenience involved. Number one being nothing is more than 6 steps away. Unless of course you go directly from the front door to the bathroom then expect at least 15 paces. Regardless, you will never get winded. Not ever.

Referencing the awkward. Imagine having eight windows, two doors, no garage and a driveway the size of a Wal-Mart parking space. Now try to pretend like you aren’t home if someone you’d rather not talk to stops by. Yeaaaaah, not gonna happen! Prime example, taking a relaxing shower after a productive evening at home…too bad the neighbors want to visit. If four knocks doesn’t make you want to give yourself up and come out of hiding, ten thunderous ones will. Conveniently they could hear….BE RIGHT THERE yelled from one end of the house to the other and retreated to the end of the driveway. If they hadn’t brought beer when I emerged I would have been slightly more irritated.

Want to mow your lawn? Go for it! Only problem is you’re the weird chick who lives in the town hall. You’re never home so people want to take a sneak peek when they can. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for the same people to drive by four times. Yet they only waive twice because the other two times were not planned and they don’t want to seem like it was on purpose. I’m from a town of 532 people….I’m on to you. You can’t fool this Norwegian! (shaking fist like the iconic grumpier old men)

It’s been a sufficient amount of time for people to feel comfortable enough to address me when they see me out and about. This is acceptable and I’m glad they haven’t shunned me before allowing me to prove I’m a sane, average person. But what about the odd conversation that emerges before it’s acceptable? You’re in the local hardware store, the guy at the counter seems overly happy to see you. As if he’s been expecting you. You have a friend with you, a male friend. Your male friend leaves with purchased merchandise and then it begins….

Hardware Hank: “I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before, are you new to the area?”

Me: “Yes, yes I am, I bought the old Dora town hall.”

Hardware Hank: “Oh, that’s you! The seller was telling me all about you. How you’re a young, single gal, so ahhh that must not be your husband there, right? Your boyfriend?”

Me: “Nope, nope its not, just a friend.”

Hardware Hank: “Hahaha okay that’s what I thought.”

Cricket: “Chirp, chirp, chirp.”

Me: “Thank you” Exit stage left

Even though at times it can feel like being a newbie in an Amish colony it’s great I’ve had the opportunity to have such a unique home and it’s a wonderful place to be. The good with the bad it’s all very entertaining.

Most entertaining moment to date:

I recently purchased a charming farmhouse table, complete with a bench. A bench that quite possibly was put together by a female like myself. One who doesn’t use power tools but can use the hell out of a hammer. This bench was nailed together…not braced properly and was most likely meant for looks and not actual use. My mom was nice enough to haul the table home for me and she sat on this bench no problem….actually I specifically remember her saying “Oh, nice it doesn’t even tip!” This was clearly a set up. Next day I got busy doing something, I sat down for better concentration. What do you know the bench doubles as a teeter totter! Too bad I live alone and ended up on my backside short of breath. Thanks mom, that was a real knee slapper!

Tomorrow is another day and yesterday is in the books. Today I’ll make a mental note of all my glory in the 9..2..4. It’s only going to get better!




People-Eat-People World

In regards to the old adage “It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there.” I would have to strongly disagree as I’m not sure why the dogs are to blame for this. I see this in the human world much more than I have ever seen it in the canine world. Everyone is out to please themselves whether it results in hurting someone else or not. Lie, cheat, steal, gossip….you name it. It’s been done and it continues to happen every day.

Today I had to send a rather lengthy email to co-workers reminding them how to act like an adult, a professional and a (kind) human being at times of frustration. This group of women range from 16 to mid 60s. So its obvious that cattiness is universal and has no age preference. I know you may be reading this thinking….”HA tell me something I don’t know, damn women and their drama.” But realistically I don’t think this is specific to only the female walk of life. I think its EVERYONE. It seems as though no one is happy anymore, they aren’t happy with themselves, they aren’t happy for others and they aren’t happy with a situation unless they are in control.

After mentioning the word control, maybe that’s all it is. Control- a power trip of sorts…the euphoria of knowing you are the puppeteer.

I’m not making a snide reference to my co-workers but a general observation of the people I interact with and see in the media. If people were overall happy individuals these days; why would reality {DRAMA} TV be so popular? In my opinion it wouldn’t be. Happy people don’t spend hours watching a flittering, colorful boom box and wake up every morning and say “WOW, I’ve really got this life thing figured out!”

Per my typical rambling self I’ve gotten a little off track. I apologize, my point is….

From personal experience I see people degrading others for the pure fun of it. Bringing them down for the purpose of making themselves look better. When in reality, the opposing individual hasn’t done anything the other hasn’t done. The trick is to beat the other person into pointing out the oppositions flaws first. Then and only then they will make themselves look like the prize. I rarely see good work ethic, quiet-yet intelligent minds at work to succeed as a whole.

I strongly believe that if you have never been a team player, part of a group where accountability and organization were key. You will fail miserably at being a decent, respectable person.

I’ve been part of a professional setting for near seven years and thanks to a few awesome mentors have learned the ropes fairly well. Not necessarily by following exact directions or listening to everything I was told but following by example. When someone showed me respect, complimented me on my drive, work ethic, stellar idea, awesome question or overall job well done it inspired me to do the same.

Instead of seeing all these people breaking each other down based on their flaws or shortcomings, I’d like to see people feed off others strengths and knowledge. Why do we not excel to meet others level of genius? Why do we pick people apart by what they’ve done wrong, not teaching them the right answer and then bask in the fact that, “Hey, at least I didn’t make the mistake!”

As I explained in my email earlier today….when you work together it shows, the work you produce is that of a well oiled machine and its something to be proud of. But when there is constant tension it shows in equal stance but in a negative, draining manner. Play off each other strengths, therefore mending everyone’s separate weaknesses. The willingness to succeed individually is based solely on you…but in many cases you don’t succeed without a little help. Give credit where credit is due and when something is unjust—speak up.

I’ve said it to many people and I will say it again. If you want to be a leader do not focus on how much YOU know and don’t hinder others from learning what YOU know. Leadership is a personality trait not a level of knowledge. No matter what your personality or level of knowledge, as long as you continue to refine it, you will go places. However, you will stay exactly where you are if you choose the more…dare I say…cannibalism route. It shouldn’t be a dog-eat-dog world out there or a people-eat-people world for that matter……

<<<This is where you get to assume I’m holding up a peace sign, in bell bottom jeans with free love written across my shirt>>>

It should be a world where we meet each other face to face, realize and be thankful we are all different; utilize the diversity and soak up all the knowledge our little brains can handle.



As a society we would be unstoppable, yet we are not.

Tickle Me Elmo

This is just a guess but I think most girls enjoy a little pampering every once and awhile. I on the other hand don’t take part in this activity nearly as much as I probably should. Yesterday I decided to try this whole pampering thing out. I called my mom who mentioned she was in dire need of a manicure and asked if we should go together. She agreed and so goes the story of Tickle Me Elmo-oh hell no…..

I’ve been to these places before, you know the place where they offer goods to a little Buddha in the corner, cheesy Chinese decorations hung aimlessly on the walls, filled with people who not only speak broken English but have literally stripped the English language beyond repair. Welcome to a nail salon folks! The man who greets me is asking questions I don’t know how to answer…mostly because I have no idea what he’s saying. I try with all my Norwegian might to explain I need a pedicure and that my mother needed a manicure. After some non traditional sign language and halfway head nods he shows us to our chairs.

My mom, hidden behind a tasteful fake plant and me in a oversized, massage pedicure chair are ready for a real treat. I can’t speak for mom but I was just thankful to still have her in view. Granted we are in Detroit Lakes, MN and there is no underground smuggling (that I’m aware of) going on, it still makes a person feel a little uneasy when your surroundings are so foreign. No pun intended.

The smallest of small ladies comes over, pushes a few buttons on my chair, smiles and walks away. I feel like the smile was a little more vindictive than sincere as she wasn’t even half way across the room and this chair comes to life. I sit forward, not very impressed by the protruding, rolling balls behind me….the grumbling and grinding noises coming from this chair are beyond intense. Soon an equally small man appears.

Okay, okay he didn’t just pooof appear, I seen him walk over but for the sake of this story lets add a little enchantment. So…..ahhem where was I?

Poooof! A man dressed in outdated men’s formal wear pulls up a rolling stool. I’m quite certain at this point I haven’t even blinked. I’m still fixated on the fact that I may not enjoy this service I will have to pay my hard earned money for. He asks me what kind of pedicure I want…. I say pedicure. He laughs…I don’t. The same awful woman who started the engine on my chair hands me a list. Thank god they had all of this typed out or I may have agreed to one heck of a pricey pedicure. I point to my preference, he nods then requests I pull up my pant legs. My first thought…..whoa buddy, we just met…easy. Whatever, I listen and do as he says because I’d rather not soak my pant legs at the same time as my feet.

Let’s go back to the chair, at this point I have noticed that there is a timer on this ride. 17 min and counting to be exact. The last 3 minutes have seemed like an eternity. In 3 minutes I have learned that these “massaging balls” can make it all the way to the base of my chair and back up to the top. As these clumsy things make their journey they push me out of the chair in an awkward posture. Where is the off switch? It gets better (worse)….the seat of the chair starts bending in, pushing my legs together and I begin to experience the same level of anxiety as I do when my blood pressure is checked. OKAY….when is it going to stop, that’s a little much, oh boy, alrighhht whew okay back down it goes! As if I couldn’t feel anymore helpless….the chair starts shaking….yep, shaking. I think it was suppose to vibrate which wouldn’t necessarily be ideal either but instead it shakes. I now know where I could stand to lose a little extra weight because everything and I mean EVERYTHING shook. If I didn’t know any better I had sat on the paint mixer at the local hardware store. Good lord…

Alright, back to the guy messing with my feet. First it was the average, soak, clip, file and so on. That I can deal with. Then it came to the bottom of my feet. At that exact moment, I knew I had made a terrible mistake. If this guy was going to make it to the end of his day without getting kicked in the face, it would be a miracle. He starts rubbing a cold gel on my feet….instantly I feel the need to giggle. I cover my face, put my head down and give myself a pep talk. “Don’t laugh Kelsey, don’t do it. Everyone is going to stare at you.” My face got hot, on fire hot and I crack a smile. I rein it back in before it could get out of hand. The last thing I wanted to do was let out a famous Kelsey snort in the middle of a public place.

It seemed as though he was spending too much time on the bottom of my feet and I was starting to lose control. He then stops and says ” I help you, I help you.” I give him the squinty eye look and repeat “Help you?” He says, “YA” and disappears to the back room. I’m nervous, unsure of what to expect when he returns.

Around the corner he comes with a cheese grater…or a paddle that resembled one. “Oh, are we cooking now….I’m not hungry. Something about feet just makes me loose my appetite. No thank you, I’m good.” I mean I can totally understand if they can eat around feet because they do it for a living….not judging. Being the polite person that I am I keep my thoughts to myself and just watch in shock and awe.

Turns out it wasn’t for cheese but my feet. Cute, right? Not so much. I realize I may go without shoes more often then the girl next to me but whoa…way to make a girl feel bad about herself. My imagination runs wild, I had scrambled out of this rollercoaster ride, grabbed my mom and ran all the way back to the car…screaming and leaving my shoes behind.

Since I try to hide my crazy as often as possible I just opened my eyes as far as they could go and tensed up. Helllll no this guy is not going to use this thing on me….helllll yes he did! The shaking chair no longer seemed to bother me. Wonder why?

I’m here today to write this blog so clearly I didn’t die. I might have overreacted a tad bit but I’ve made the decision that I will not frequent these kinds of places. One and done is good enough for me. Besides, while sitting there and hearing him say “French be 5 mo dolla”….brought a rush of every stand up comedian act I had ever seen. That alone made it difficult to sit and not bust a gut.

According to my mother my face even turned bright red during this whole ordeal. I was channeling Elmo and all his “don’t tickle me” glory. It just so happens hell no rhymes with Elmo and I’m a poet and didn’t even know it.

***Disclaimer***These people are great at what they do, I was completely satisfied with their service and I in no way want to offend anyone. This is just how my mind works, I would apologize but everyone knows that won’t happen.