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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!

Malmartian No More

It was bound to happen. I often complain about it. I dread it. I loath it but for some reason I still don’t avoid it. I was told I shouldn’t use the name directly so, please bare with me as I try to keep the “good” name under wraps. Regardless, it was only a matter of time until I went on a ramble about…Malmart.

First and foremost I don’t honestly support what Malmart is all about. I also realize I’m a hypocrite because like any other paycheck to paycheck individual, I continue to spend my money there. I can’t recall a single time I ever thought to myself. “Self, I am so glad I went to Malmart!” In fact, whenever I refer to Malmart it’s in a negative form. One that usually references a really warm place….and no, I’m not referring to anywhere tropical. Just the thought of it makes me cringe.

I would like to give a shout out to all the mother’s out there that dare bring children along for their Malmart trips. Okay, I’ll be honest…a shout out to the mother’s who bring their children in and don’t treat it like the play place at McDonald’s. Sorry, that was a bit much. I understand kids can be tuff but I also know my parents scared the crap out of me and we didn’t act like that. In the event we did, we suffered the ever so sneaky underarm pinch. Use what works! All kidding aside, I can not physically imagine keeping other “beings” calm in a place so over stimulating.

Stimulating might be the wrong word. Overwhelming may say it best. I can feel every emotion possible in one visit. Before I walk in…scared. I grab a cart…sick. Enter…determined. Before the first aisle….distracted. First aisle….forgetful. Second aisle with four people deep and two people wide….disheartened. Turning a corner too sharp with a blind spot…nervous. Waiting behind someone in the soup or sauce aisle while they ponder their life away with no regard for the person behind them….annoyed. Saying excuse me and sorry multiple times without any acknowledgment….frustrated. Getting to the check out where there are six lights of twenty registers lit up and lines that circle the women’s clothing…helpless. Seeing the bill….nauseous. Exiting the swishing doors….freedom!

I once bought myself flowers on the way out of the produce because I was so sad. What store makes someone so sad they buy themselves flowers? Malmart. While waiting to pay for said flowers I made small talk with the woman behind me. I could tell we were feeling mutually restless with the coupon-er in front of us and the rookie cashier. I told her of my woes and she shared hers. She was irritated by Malmart’s lack of Kleenex choice. This just further confirms that Malmart makes people sad and as a result they have a blowout on Kleenex each week. Why else would such a common household good not be in stock at Malmart?

My all time, most unbelievable trip had to be this past week. I take my place in line behind a rather cute elderly couple. They were just finishing up so I felt like I won the lottery for a quick exit. As I wait to put my items on the conveyor I hear the familiar sound of a camera shutter. The really loud, obnoxious noise cellphones make while taking a picture. I don’t even hesitate to turn around and look. There behind me stands a man, with a dumb look on his face and his phone held at an awkward chest level. Yes, he had a cart and yes he obviously needed to pay for his items. However, he wasn’t so excited to stand behind me and wait his turn after I acknowledged the oh so obvious sound that came from his phone. Interesting.

I realize Malmart has no control over the people who frequent their store or these people’s behavior but it never fails there is always something unsettling about the place. Maybe the sound I heard wasn’t a camera at all, perhaps it was the figurative click of realizing I should no longer be one of these Malmartians.


Whatever Your Little Heart Desires


As some of you may know I’ve recently started a column for my hometown newspaper. I’ve been slacking on individualizing my blogs. I’ve been publishing repeats of what you’ll find in the paper. I’m not certain but I’m pretty sure this is how writing life works. It starts with a whim, then a blog, then print. However, it’s occurred to me that there are certain things I’m able to address with you…my blog followers…that I can’t with the newspaper world. Reason being…..controversy. Most of you that see my blogs from Facebook or searches know that you chose to click and read. Newspaper people, even though they still choose to read have a little less choice on what they entertain themselves with.

That being said I must confess I have a bit of a bone to pick. Since I’m your average person I would like to note that there is an obvious reoccurrence I’m seeing. One of which many of you are seeing as well. Call it what you like but I’d say a majority of you are referencing “pyramid scheme” right about now. JUMP ON THE EXERCISE WAGON. JUMP ON THE OIL WAGON. JUMP ON THE RELIGION WAGON. (Yes I just referenced religion as a pyramid scheme) JUMP ON THE MAGIC SUPPLEMENT WAGON. JUMP ON THE PURSE WAGON. JUMP ON THE CLEAN EATING WAGON. JUMP ON THE TUPPERWARE WAGON. JUMP ON THE MAKEUP WAGON. You name it, they have a wagon for it.

Since I’m an old school girl at heart. As much as I hate to admit it….I have a soft spot for wagons. However, I will admit openly that I’ve grumbled about seeing all these fitness coaches flooding my daily feed, someone wanting me to rub oils in weird places, wanting me to order a rodeo clown equivalent of makeup and a ridiculous amount of Tupperware and if your into it…..lets make every nook and cranny of your home smell like a delicious dessert. I’ve been annoyed. Then, something occurred to me. Something that not everyone will realize but it made perfect sense to me.

Similar to how I post my writing every week or month. These individuals are doing the same. The most obvious of my realization is that this is Facebook. A social media created to keep us interacting. Sure shit we’re interacting, but on a deeper level than probably Facebook ever intended. We see people who constantly complain, constant pictures, constant bragging, constant love, constant hate, constant….life. We sign on to this, we login to this everyday. Thankfully for those that like to customize, much like life itself…we are able to make these things seemingly disappear without the other party even knowing.

But wait. Before we make all this go away, disappear into thin air, I want you to think about something. Aside from the fact that you’re basically doing this to yourself, I want you to realize that our world is based on one single thing. Rights. You can do this…you can do that and we all feel like no one should tell us differently. Daily, we react this way. I’m not buying all these workouts, purses, makeup, oil, Tupperware and supplements just because they tell me to. I’m independent. I make my own choices. I’m happy just the way I am.

If that last sentence is true…..GREAT! You are likely a small percentage of human kind. You are unique and I commend you. For many, it takes a purpose, a hobby, an experience or another-living-breathing-human-being to bring us to life. It also takes someone or something bold enough to show us the way. Not that you don’t already have what you need to be happy, but that you just need to see it.

Obviously in the bigger picture I’m not saying these people are trying to sell you happiness based on plastic kitchen ware or a beauty commodity but what I am saying is that even something as small as that….makes them happy. I feel bad saying “something as small as that.” Who am I kidding….one of my happiest moments of the day is turning into my driveway. I shouldn’t be one to judge if health, fitness, routine and “product” is what makes people happy. Go for it! Do it!

Overall the message I’m trying to portray is that everyone has their happy. Men…and I know you read this too….if coming home from work, sitting on the couch, drinking a beer, eating a perfectly made supper and watching t.v. is your happy place then by all means…happy away. Ladies…if your happy place is work, exercise, a perfectly made meal (mostly by you), a good book, movie, glass of wine (beer, whiskey, vodka, rum or even tequila), sitcom/series, pet or bed….by all means, happy away.

If you want to tell Facebook about it…great. If you want to broadcast it via phone, text message, email, Instagram, or good old-fashioned conversation then…like my mother always said….”You do whatever your little heart desires.”



Class of Wine

In the last couple years I’ve started to notice a trend. One I’ve only heard about and one I was certain I would be exempt from experiencing. It seems in every circle of friends there’s a trend setter for each walk of life.This scenario is similar to the famous singing groups and movies we idolized and would characterize our friends with in our pre-teen years. Oddly enough, ours was the Spice Girls. I choose the word odd because not a single one of us turned out like a Spice Girl, thank God for that! Its funny the little turns life has in store for us as it steers us away from childish ideals to that of some pretty impressive adults. Last week was a prime example of this trend in full swing. Thursday was a rather mature day; I worked, took off early to meet old co-workers for lunch, ran some errands and met up with friends to catch up. Today would be a first for an outing with friends that didn’t fall in our usual category of fun. Our dignified friend outing started at Barnes & Noble for coffee. It’s logical, but I had no idea there was a quaint little Starbucks tucked in the back of all the piles of books. It was comfy. Comfy enough to catch up on the past two or so years of life. Not only was it fun to hear things I hadn’t previously heard on Facebook but it was fun to be face to face. To hear and see emotion. To witness how proud someone is of their accomplishments, the struggles they’ve faced and the current situations they find themselves in. However, there is truth in the saying, “Some things never change.” Each person the way I’ve always remembered them. A short time passes and we all gather to do something that didn’t involve a bottle of Tylenol or a call to a pizza delivery place at 2 a.m. There was zero bad decisions made, zero creepy guys, no failed dance moves and not a single cab was hailed. Instead of belly up to a bar in downtown Fargo, we were belly down on a yoga mat in an art gallery much too classy for us kids straight off the farm. But don’t mistake, we held our own. True to our unrefined fashion, we piled three people in a one person bathroom to hurry and change into our yoga pants. You know, the ones we don’t usually do yoga in. Every other woman in the room looked and acted as a seasoned veteran. We were stuck discussing if it was appropriate to show our un-pedicured feet and giggling over the days events, not finding our inner quiet center. As class commenced it was clear the next hour would be a test of our maturity, balance and flexibility. I can assure you I question these three aspects of my life daily. I’m a clumsy, not very athletic chick with a terrible sense of humor. Things could get interesting. Half way through cramping set in and it was obvious I hadn’t consumed enough water. One of us fell over, I started to question my knowledge of left and right and no one had busted a gut laughing, passed any gas or judgment so, I’d say it was going pretty well. I didn’t mention this before because I didn’t want it to seem as though it was the reason we chose to take THIS yoga class. But…it did weigh as a deciding factor. There was wine at the end of class. Yep, a big classy glass of white wine after an hour of contortionism. Perfect. We made it through class, two glasses of wine, priceless conversation and several side-splitting laughs. Since high-school we’ve transformed into mothers, wives, teachers, financiers, (almost) doctors, wellness coaches and many more things. We’ve come a long way but still have a distance to travel. May the rest of our lives be more like a yoga class than the Spice Girls. At times we will be exhausted, we’ll feel stretched, we’ll fall, we’ll feel inferior but hopefully we’ll continue to laugh and come together to share good conversation over a tall glass of wine.

Silly Biscuits

Too often in life we need to make choices and do things that are a little scary. Not a lot, but just a little scary. Things that make us uncomfortable because of uncertainty and fear of the unknown. It’s only natural and if you told me you’ve never been scared of a life choice, you’d be lying.

Because it’s neither good to lie to yourself or others let’s assume we’ve all been in this place. You have a new job opportunity, you want to make a big purchase, you decide to take on new responsibility, the list goes on and on of all that can make us anxious.

I’m anxious a lot of the time. I think that’s why I’m okay with change. I’m nervous anyway, what difference will this make mentality. I’ve come to terms with this and its helped immensely. But how do other people deal with change?

You will see those that put off change because the risk just isn’t worth it. You’ll notice others don’t even entertain the idea of change because they need consistency. Others will welcome it because the fear of boredom is greater than the fear of something new. Some like change in small amounts and some like it in large amounts. Its specific to your bubble, your comfort zone and your level of courage but change still needs to happen.

I’ve wrote about this more times than I care to acknowledge but since the record isn’t broken yet, I’m going to keep playing it. In my short life I’ve witnessed too many people passing up opportunities and good things. I’ve heard too many people ask why good doesn’t happen to them? Why they don’t have this or have that? If they were asking me specifically I’d tell them to quit asking and start doing. All the people you see around you that have what they WANT…not NEED, (that’s different) made a scary change or choice at some point to acquire it.

Simple as that. Unless you’re willing to put on your big girl panties or your big boy drawers, chances are you won’t acquire any of those things you’ve been wishing for.

To lighten this up a bit, lets think of it this way. The tube of Grands Biscuits in the fridge you want to make tonight. You know they’re there, you know they’re going to be good but there is that chance you could burn them and they’d be gross. You will still pull them out of the fridge….you will still pre heat the oven. You have all the tools you need to make the biscuits but you know what the scary part is? You are still going to have to break the seal. Yep, that horrific popping of the tube, its gonna happen! You just don’t know when and you don’t know how much pressure its going to take. But it will pop and it will scare you.

I bet you still make Grands Biscuits even if they scare you. I do. So, why aren’t you doing other things that are a little scary? Seems silly, doesn’t it.

The Study Struggle

How long has it been since you’ve spent time in a library? Due to technology, my guess is it’s been awhile for a majority of you. Prior to this year my only hours logged in a library were ones I was more or less forced into. Whether it be for AR Reading, misc research projects, quality reading time or computer use, the library was the hot spot. Of course you weren’t allowed to talk, shout, giggle, clap or take part in any other activity that had a volume level greater than one. I don’t know for what reason you would clap in a library, regardless, it wasn’t allowed.

My job requires me to pass several tests before deemed “legal.” This frightens me as my ability to absorb knowledge through reading vs. doing has declined substantially since joining the real world. I’m more of a real world type of person. I’m conscious of what goes on around me, what I’m doing and what results from such things. I find it difficult to lose myself in hundreds of pages of content I’m never going to apply in real life. This is where being “me” is a problem…

I’ve always thought it a curse for being too observant. Don’t get me wrong, my days are never boring! However, I often struggle with letting certain things go. So, how does this apply to a library you might ask?

Well, I decided the local library would be my venue of study. I did my homework before making a decision of where I’d spend all this quality time. I had to check if there was an adequate amount of plugins, cushy seats, (not too cushy so they’d induce coma) how many study rooms were available, friendliness of staff…all the basics to know my 10+ hours a week would be comfortable ones. For extra measure I brought my pin to drop on the tile floor to ensure optimal quietness. I was impressed, it surpassed my expectation.

Apparently my initial visit was at the exact time, on the exact day of prime desolation because almost every visit after has had a volume above 1. They’ve literally cranked it to 10. Every. Single. Time.

To highlight a few: I’ve witnessed a teenage girl strolling through the aisles chatting on her cell phone. No muted ringtone, no whispers, no “I’ll call you later this girl at a study table is staring at me for being obscenely rude”….just a casual after school catch up session with her BFF. I’ve heard the clumsy stampede of dozens of youngster’s in un-tied, slipped on snow boots, frolicking through the library. Running up and down the stairs because walking just isn’t as fun. I’ve spent unproductive time re-reading the same page multiple times because the voice in my head was singing along to the catchy tune being played on the computer next to me, without headphones. There’s a few days I’ll refrain from describing to the public in fear of judgment. But are you picking up what I’m putting down? The library is no longer the place I remember. Its loud, its hustling and bustling, it’s over crowded and honestly…I was so wrong, it doesn’t have enough plug-ins.

This past week I walk in with a little pep in my step. I’m really excited to sit and read my text-book. Possibly a little too excited. The further I venture into the library, the more stacks of book I pass, the more study rooms I see filled with people, I start to feel anxious. I knew I was an hour later than schedule and I was paying for it. There was one study table left by the coldest window in the whole place. I didn’t bring my coat, I didn’t want to freeze. I look up and I’m at the end of the road. All that’s left is the big intimidating stairway in front of me. I’d never been up there. The little kids sometimes ran up there but they also ran back down. Maybe it was scary up there. With no other choice, I had to take a chance. I make my way up, refraining from running or jumping one stair at a time. Because it’s waaay more fun than walking. But I didn’t, I kept my cool. I finally make my way to the landing. A little winded but that’s okay, nobody noticed…I don’t think.

I look around, lost but willing to find my way. To my left, two people. One at a table seated for six. The other on a couch big enough for only two. To my right an older gentleman and a younger girl seated across from each other. I wasn’t about to crash their party so I meander to the two-seater facing the wall. Perfect! I could get used to this. This place was classy. It had a fireplace, I felt so distinguished with all the newspapers and magazines surrounding me. I take my place and start setting up. Dang it! No plug-in. That’s okay, I have 50% battery, I’ll survive. Nothing can bring me down!

An hour or so passes. I wasn’t keeping time, I was studying, really, really, hard. I was focused and productive. My attention slipped for only a moment when I notice the party on the pleather couches was replaced with a white-haired man. I sit and imagine for a second what I’ll be like at that age. Feeling sentimental and thankful I’m still in my twenties I look back at my book and try to regain my train of thought.

In the dead of silence, a loud, rumbling, boisterous belch, echoes through the upstairs. I’m not the most proper lady but it made my face turn red. Before I can look over to be sure the guy didn’t puke, he does it again. And again. Annnnd again! At this point I’m in disbelief, shock and trying not to breathe in because God forbid I smell it. Hearing it made me slightly nauseous. Because one bodily noise wasn’t enough it was followed by another. This time I cracked up, I lost every ounce of maturity I had. I bury my face in my arms and book as this guy starts to hiccup. This isn’t your average hiccup. By the sound of his high-pitched squeal, I’m a convinced he’s hiding a baby pig in his retro jacket. The noises coming from him are unsettling. Yet, he hadn’t skipped a beat, he sat there paging through his magazine! Un-freaking-real!

I try my best to be compassionate and understanding. But really? After my giggling was under control I sat with a blank stare. I gathered my belongings, shoved in my chair, bunny hopped to the stairs, slid down the banister, whistled my way to the door and slammed it behind me. Next time and every time after that a study room will be mine!

Puppy Love

I’m surely not the only person who has a news feed blowing up with babies, puppies, engagments and all that sappy, warm fuzziness. One in particular that sticks out to me is the four legged, literally fuzzy, lovable pups. They make my little, Norwegian heart melt. Sigh….

I’ve had dogs in my day. The one I grew up with. His name was Bear, he was black and he was perfect. Then there was Digger, I taught that dog more jumps and tricks than a gold medal gymnast.

Of course I’ve had dogs through various relationships. You know those relationships where you’re like, “Ahhh, we should get a puppy!” It’s like a super secret way of saying, “Ahhhh, lets see if we can keep something alive together and test the waters of mutual responsibility and discipline.” I discuss this from an experienced point of view. Trust me when I say, get a plant first. Reason #1: There’s no canine custody battles. You won’t have to worry about supervised visits, pissy step-“parents” or a tugged heart string on top of other emotions. Reason #2: If you can’t agree on a plant feeding schedule or who is gonna keep it’s over growth under control, you really shouldn’t coincide. Simple as that.

As I’ve been fighting off this urge to have my canine companionship back it’s brought up some rather interesting points that my previously immature self would have overlooked. Taking a step back and having a good laugh over it has been the best cure thus far.

Here’s the scoop. Or the poop scoop. I want a Great Dane in the WORST way! Always have, always will. However, my oh so charming boyfriend kindly reminded me of how large of a “mess” I’d have to clean up. He also suggested a Newfoundland as a companion. Now that’s just bonkers! Do you know how big of a poop scoop we would need? More like a scoop shovel. Jeeesh. I think I’ll scratch the horse of a dog idea.

I’ve given it some logical thought and figured an older dog would be appropriate. So I set out to find the perfect fit. Rescues, pounds and Craigslist…you name it, I’ve looked. Luck would have it I find an older, male dog. It was eating me up inside so I had to pay a visit. To sum it up I’m glad I went. Is it going to be right for me? No. That I learned. Among other things but I won’t share that here.


Have any of you had microfiber couches? I have. It’s like having an oversized magnet. One that attracts any fiber ever created! Their stain fighting abilities are poor; dark couches and light couches alike.


Anyway, as I sit observing the dog, all the past instances I’ve had with a dog in my home came flashing back. The flalying, uncontrollable tail wagging, licking, fur flying, slobber throwing, red rocketeering……all. over. the. microfiber.

Call me materialistic. I don’t care. At this point in my life I’d prefer to not deal with red rockets in my house….on my furniture or a red rocket leaking on my hardwood floor. I don’t want to find my shoes eaten, table legs destroyed, clean up mounds of poo or find them with my bare feet in my yard. I do miss the greetings at the door, my partner in crime in the car, a cuddle on the couch and a motivation to go for a walk.

Sadly, right now a cactus would be best for me. Cute, yet aggressive in looks. Which is exactly what you can get with the right kind of dog. If that’s what your looking for. I wouldn’t dare cuddle with it and it’d be a little weird if I took it along in the car.

Yet, I’m not opposed to naming a cactus. In fact, I might buy a red cactus and call it Rocket. Best of both worlds!

“Ahhhh, we should get a cactus!”

I hear they’re really hard to kill.

Subconscious Problems

You’re so sleepy….you drag yourself to bed….assume the most comfortable position……close your eyes…..and bam! Eyes shut, Brain ON!

In my case I’m convinced I have a nocturnal, split personality stowed away in my brain. It only comes out when the lights are low and all the rest of my being wants to sleep. It suggests the most convincing concepts, life goals, wants and needs. It wins every argument I may have had that day or perhaps an argument I’ve never had. Its more inspiring than any motivational speaker. And even if I don’t suffer from A.D.D… does.

If you haven’t caught on by now my guess is you and I don’t have the same types of problems and you probably won’t be able to relate to this in any way. Nonetheless, read on if you wish.

I’ve thought about trying to write down my sporadic thoughts while counting sheep but its occurred to me that its an entirely different part of my brain at work. The subconscious. I really shouldn’t be surprised by its behavior given my daily conscious thoughts.

I’m not kidding when I say I have an irrational fear that there may be people among us that can read our minds. I pray I never unknowingly find myself in the presence of one. Bad for me….worse for them.

Anyway, I will admit this isn’t a nightly occurrence but it does happen often. Often enough for me to want to write about it. Well, who am I kidding, I’d write about anything. This however has won the top spot for this week.

I’m unsure of what causes the subconscious to be so loud. Perhaps an overload of conscious stimulation. A busy day, too much problem solving, dealing with people you’d rather not deal with, basic things that demand your logical train of thought. I’ve narrowed it down to the fact that my brain has had no time to play. It has had zero fun and it is pissed.

You see, its most common to have an over active voice in my head on days I’ve felt the most productive. Days I’ve crossed all the To Do’s off and gotten ahead of the game. Nights I’m certain I will be soaking in all that beauty sleep all these women talk about. That being said I assure you my subconscious isn’t all that attractive.

We can’t win them all.

I’ll keep this short and sweet but I think it would be in this posts best interest to give an example of how my subconscious sounds on the evenings it feels most active. My main goal here is to let it out to play, if only for the hour I have on my lunch break. Then, and only then will I have a fighting chance to shut. it. up.


Ahhh these pillows, I need new pillows. Or maybe another pillow. Yeeaaaahh another pillow. I could have so many pillows…I’d be like the Princess and The Pea. Wait that was matresses. And a pea….why did she have the pea again? Like, don’t pea (pee) the bed? Was that a potty training book? How long ago did I pee? Gosh I hope I don’t have to wake up in the middle of the night to pee. Did I drink enough water today? Next time I’m at Walmart I should get a new water bottle. Something fun, that makes me WANT to drink more water. I should exercise more. I should buy fun workout clothes that make me WANT to exercise. Then I’d have to eat better. Geez, I ate a lot of junk today. I’m gonna wake up early, eat yogurt, exercise and drink water. Lots of water. Wow, I’m really gonna do it this time. I feel so motivated. I am so excited to wake up tomorrow. Eww, I have to pay bills tomorrow. I should save more money. I’m gonna start a savings account tomorrow. Wow, by the end of the year, Christmas, I’m gonna have so much money. I love Christmas! Jeepers, what should I get Tom for Christmas. I wonder what Tom is doing right now. PROBABLY SLEEPING. Why can’t I fall asleep? Crap, did I turn the furnace down? How “cool” would it be if I could turn down the thermostat from my bed? Ha, wow I’m so punny! I bet no one else is this punny this late at night. What time is it? Uhhh I’ve been laying here for 10 minutes. What else takes 10 minutes? Taking a shower, drying my hair, washing my car. Gross. My car is filthy. I’m getting a carwash on my lunch tomorrow. What am I gonna have for lunch? Dairy Queen…..NO a salad. I’m gonna have a salad, get my car washed, buy a lottery ticket….because I bet this is the time I win. I could buy so many water bottles if I won the lottery. I could buy a new car. Maybe I won’t wash my car  At the car wash, Workin’ at the car wash yeah, Yeah yeah yeah yeah. I wish my radio was on. Its too quite in here. (Crack) Oh my gosh what was that? Ugh, what if my house got broken into right now. I have on the weirdest pajamas. And its cold. Its too cold for a robber. I love those little masks that robbers wear in cartoons, its so sneaky. Sneaky but cute. Puppies are cute too, awe I want a puppy. But a big puppy. A HUGE puppy. One that grows up and is the size of a camel. Not a horse, a camel. HUMP DAY…no tomorrow is Thursday. Today was hump day. Garbage day. Did I bring the garbage can in? What if someone hit it? Did I check the mail? I love getting mail. I’m such a loser, 24 and I like getting mail. Whoa, I’m almost 25. I need to do a lot of stuff in 25 years. When I’m 50, it will be year 2040. Weird…..


The song Highway, by Holly Williams, will blast at 6:30 a.m. reminding me its Thursday morning when I’m suppose to get up exercise and drink more water.

My conscious self will win with the push of the snooze button. 3 times.



A Valentine’s Day for the Books

Let me start by saying there isn’t a specific Valentine’s Day that sticks out to me. Having been through many with a significant other, still, nothing jumps at me as memorable. I think I’ve gotten flowers, maybe a card, I think one year a candy bar, jewelry etc….its been done, it just hasn’t been over the top. I’m okay with that. I don’t think I have an over the top personality or personal expectation. I do just fine with mediocre.

Valentine’s Day has passed once again but this time with a story to tell. I don’t want to get your hopes up so I’m going to warn you it wasn’t all lovey dovey, roses, champagne and chocolate. There wasn’t teddy bears, a sparkling necklace or a vase tied with a bow. The mood was not set for romance and the candlelight was nowhere to be found.

If any of you out there had a day that included some or all of the above mentioned….high five yourself because I’m about to one up you.

Well, kinda.

Okay, its one of those….”the eye of the beholder” things. And its possible my definition of one upping is very different from yours.

Any-who, I hope your day was enjoyable and that you were able to express your love in which ever way you’re capable of and that love was expressed to you.


A few months ago I distinctively remember having a discussion about planning a trip to Florida. You know, where its warm, because its freaking cold here! Much like any other trip I’ve ever tried to plan, it just never worked out. Conflicting schedules, expensive flights, lack of follow through…whatever it might be it just never comes together like my venturing imagination would like it to.

I also remember this really great conversation I had with my boyfriend about going somewhere tropical….but the conversation table quickly turned.

“Ahhh yeah we should really take your dad’s fish house for a weekend too…like Devil’s Lake or somewhere.”

Being the good Minnesota girl that I am, I agreed…. because hell, who doesn’t like a good fishing trip?!?! As February approached and the hopes of sunshine faded it was decided that Devil’s Lake was the ticket. A date was set, the fish house lined up and our wheels were ready to turn. Sleep was missed and excitement was in the air!

It should have been a teaser to our weekend when miscommunication of keys and hooking up tow lights was a greater task than anticipated. But hey, there’s always road bumps, how were we to know the trend would continue.

Friday comes. I’m getting excited to get out of work. The guys are taking off a little early to ensure everything is set up. Sounds perfect. My ideal adventure.

Then I get the texts….

“…make sure to grab the generator n those blocks in the back of my truck…no joke.” “Gimme a call when you get a chance.”

No generator = no heat. My female alarm sounded…this ain’t good.

A couple hours pass and the girls are Devil’s Lake bound. Generator (Check), Tow Rope (Check), Food (Check), Tip-ups (Check), Beer (Check)……ahhh that reminds me…beer.

Side Note: Yet another foreshadow to our weekend went unnoticed. I thought I’d pick up beer for the weekend. Perfect, didn’t even get carded…sweet. I walk out sporting a 24 rack and open my backseat to buckle it up.

Weird, who put boxes in my backseat and why do I suddenly have an e-brake in my center counsel? Magic?

Nooooo….. wrong car Einstein. (Insert red-face emoticon)

Okay, back to the story…..EHHEMMM

Well on the way to our destination we receive a rather frustrated phone call. The guys are still not set up and still not on the lake, it was clear frustrations were on the rise. Thank god we had another 80+ miles to let them cool down and find their way.

80+ miles pass….we roll into town and see a very familiar truck and fish house in a parking lot. We stop to investigate. Turns out they hadn’t already caught the big one and called it a night.

They had yet to drop a line or even drill a hole.

Good thing we have beer.

Since its now after dark we decide its best to find our hotel. Wait, did I say hotel? I’m sorry, I meant motel. Contrary to what GPS suggests we pull into our bungalow. In the parking lot we find few cars. But one car in particular looks as though its been there awhile….perhaps all winter. Usually not a great marketing tactic for a place of business. But clearly we found the place.

We first inspect the rooms before safely bringing in our belongings. I even told the beer to stay buckled. Once inside, we find that only half the lights work due to lack of light bulbs and/or electrical failure. The T.V. looked promising but one step in the door had me Google searching reviews that may claim bed bugs were their number one guest.

This place was bad. I mean, the opening plot for a scary movie bad. After further inspection and other signs of life pulling into the parking lot, we figured it’d be okay to unload the car.

I dropped my bag and simultaneously cracked a Coors. Much needed. After assembling a game plan for morning we turned in for the night but not without the exchange of hilarious pictures and video of our out of this world heating systems and free amenities. One heater resembled the sound of a Mack truck and the other wouldn’t even purr.

It was a cold and icky night but we were hopeful for the next day because it surely couldn’t get worse.

Six thirty comes much too soon. We set out for Catfish Hunter! However, mistakes were already made. The auger and generator were left in the arctic temps and the beer was left behind.

Soon after throwing it in park on the lake it was apparent the hole driller and the heat maker were going to need a little warming up. We let them soak up the warm air in the truck. The quarters were tight but for a good cause.

Since it was near 30 below and the guys were much more motivated to catch a prize fish, we sat in the pickup and assessed the situation over a cup of gourmet, gas station coffee. Sounds enchanting right?

It was a breathe of fresh air to see a smile on the guy’s faces when they broke water while drilling the first hole. There was a lot of ice and nearly not enough auger. We really got lucky on this one! Woooooo.

As they run around like spring chickens setting the tip-ups, we prep the house. It seems as though the stars are aligning and the fish gods are about to send us a real wall hanger. Everyone is content….

Although hopeful, a better part of an hour passes without even a nibble.

Soon to follow was the first perch of the day and later a couple walleyes pop through the hole.

When I say “the hole,” I mean the only hole of ALL the holes drilled that day that had a fish come out of it.

After ten and a half hours on the lake, without catching a buzz or catfish hunter, it was time for a nice supper. We all deserved that at the very least.

Silly us showed up at the tail end of a supposed nice Valentine’s Day special. We were still able to order drinks, food and dessert but of course not without complication.

The bar blender was broken, they ran out of mashed potatoes and their vegetable medley, although tasty….were very sad looking. Yes, vegetables can be sad. Sad like they were definitely the last ones out of the pot and had endured a rather long day.

We could relate….we were basically sad vegetables.

I would also like to add that the tray of Pina Coladas that passed our table after we were informed the blender was broken told us one thing and one thing only. The bar must have a blender mechanic on call on holidays. Impressive.

The dessert was great. We could see that before we even ordered it. Given our current luck we didn’t want to miss out. I tried to pre-order the dessert directly after we got our food. I expressed to the waitress my concern that they may run out or perhaps the dessert might break before we could order. Okay, that statement isn’t entirely true but she did assure us we’d be able to indulge in the cheesecake.

The next day offered the same quality of fishing but this time a little more action on the tip-ups. We didn’t stay nearly as long as the thought of home was much too tempting.

You have one more year Catfish Hunter. One more year.







Amenity and Necessity

I ran, I tried to hide and it found me. Technology caught up with me and there is no turning back. Since I moved into my humble abode I’ve tried to keep it old school. Old school is easy. With old comes appreciation….it creates for me the ability to love my simple life and sit back and watch how easy we all have it. I’m not implying I force myself to struggle. There is no struggle here, in most cases I’ve just cut out the fluff and kept the necessity.

I’ve come to realize if I plan on living in today’s world. I’m going to need certain amenities of today. As the years pass I see that compromise is one of life’s most important tools. Even though my preferences may withstand, my capability to bend becomes easier and for the right reasons. There is always more than one way to accomplish and more than one way to aspire.

I’ve preached time and time again that individuality is a must. In my mind it’s a necessity. A life necessity. I have no desire to be anyone or anything else other than myself. I find it taboo when people strive to be like someone else or be a certain way to appease others. This is one thing I may never bend on. To me its a moral and without reason, I refuse to bend my morals.

I think that’s why this topic and the amenities of today go hand and hand. Amenities are often confused with necessity. Today’s world makes us believe we have to act or think a certain way in order to succeed or even be considered the norm. This isn’t true. I see both aspects every day. The struggle of those to keep their head above water to ensure they’re keeping up with the Kardashians. On the flip side, I see those that walk without fear of rejection…there should be more of those people.

In the days passed I’ve been called stubborn and I’ve had people question my personality. I think both are okay. In some instances I may be offended but nonetheless its all very understandable. Not everyone makes sense to me either. I think its normal to pass judgment on the unfamiliar….that might be why we’re called humans. In the same breath I think its important to try to understand each other. That’s what makes for smooth sailing. Whether it be at work, home or within friendships…most all is well when there’s understanding.

In my mind understanding and compromise are interchangeable. As I said before, I am now more willing to compromise for the right reasons. If I’ve met in the middle because I’ve traveled the distance on my own and understand how I got there; I’m more willing to make the trip the next time around. Its all give and take but make sure you’ve given and taken for a good purpose. Otherwise, its all extremely exhausting.

I understand that getting cable and internet in my home shouldn’t create a ground breaking revolution but…..this isn’t a normal home. I will continue to reach a middle ground on the trivial, non-life altering matters. The more important stuff I may be a tad hard headed about.

I may crinkle my nose every time I look up and see that astronomically, constructed dish on the side of my house but the worst that will happen is a wrinkle or two and another bill to pay. To interject a positive, I won’t need a night light anymore since I have an entire wall lit with blue and green flashing lights. Its like Christmas festivity all year.

Yes, I have (had) a night light.




Nothing In Particular…

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been able to put my pen to paper or fingers to key. I have multiple drafts waiting for me to hit the publish button that promise a good read. Yet I can’t seem to finish them. For the past few weeks my brain has been overloaded with new information and I’ve been focusing on how to retain it all. However I continue to have my usual sporadic thoughts….all of which I wish I could share with you.

Tonight it occured to me. How ’bout I stay true to my rambling fashion and compile a blog with everything that has gone through my mind in the prior weeks. Some have nothing to do with the other and others have everything to do with the next. If that makes sense. Most likely it doesn’t so without complicating it any further I’ll get started.

Negativity makes me angry. I won’t even be PC. It pisses me off! Is your life so bad that you must exert negative energy wherever you go? Doubtful. Shut up, chin up and get up. DO something other than whine about what is so wrong in your world. There is someone out there that would one up you with their hardships all while wearing a smile because they’re still here to tell you how wrong you are.

Cooking. I’ve kinda gotten into this cooking thing. I kinda like it. Apparently I’m not too terrible at it either. My sister calls it domestication. I personally think domestication is a dirty word. Right up there with moist. Yep I said it, moist. Ewwww. For the record I never intended on writing a blog about cooking or the word moist. But I did recently share recipes for the first time in my life. That was weird….I’d even classify it as taboo in my book. Not my normal behavior by any means.

I now know where to locate my main water shut off and what every breaker in my house does. I failed at flushing a hot water heater but I hope I never have to try again. I’m getting to be a pro at starting fires and I acquired my first axe at 24. My life skills are really starting to blossom. Even if blossoming means into a backwoods living, tiny house dwelling Jack of all trades. I’ve got this life thing nailed down. Kind of. Well, just a little bit.

To date, the only animal that has worked out for me is my horse. Apparently I have some bad luck with pets. Roofus the no-tailed, wonder cat was fun for awhile. But he shared my hatred of a litter box and refused to use it. He tried for a little while and it just wasn’t doing if for him. Maybe we had too much in common? Needless to say my parents farm has this huge over-sized litter box that he doesn’t even know he’s using. It’s called a yard.

Home improvement projects have always been a favorite of mine. I love the transition from old to new. But I’ve had passed instances were others have made these projects far from enjoyable. In fact, I have this nasty habit of constantly assuming the worst because of the help I’ve previously enlisted. Fortunately for me this handy man I have hanging around is pretty good at what he does. One bathroom remodel is almost in the books and the F bombs that have been dropped weren’t at each other! Winning!

I’ve come a long way in a year or so. I think about the person I was not all that long ago and I seriously consider reaching back and throat punching myself. If only that were possible! If I had one piece of advice I’d tell time and time again it would be to never settle. Ever. I don’t want to sound like a broken Sugarland record but there is always a choice besides settling. Okay, I lied on the one piece of advice bit. Also, never take any b.s….sure you can entertain the idea of b.s. when people first present said “b.s.” but seriously….NEVER tolerate it. You’re better than that.

Did you know DirecTv not only offers television but appears to be channeling life in outer space? I, Kelsey, admittedly now have a disgusting, enormous, gray dish attached to my roof….gross. I also have a genie…which I think is a cute name for a DVR….but DVR is not like a VCR….. I don’t think? The genie hasn’t done anything magical yet though….yet! I tried rubbing it the other day but no little blue man appeared…yet! But if he does I’m gonna wish for my rock back. You know the one I used to live under. Yeah, that one.

When did everyone become so entitled? Where did all this selfishness come from? I think the world would be a better place with more compassion and understanding of life beyond yourself. The earth is in orbit…that’s a fact. However, it is not revolving around your supposed scent-free arse. Get over yourself people….

People, I love people. The people that show passion and meaning. Those that show and accept love. I don’t care what you do as long as you’re happy. I love happy people. There isn’t a catch here. Everyone has the ability to be happy, it just takes some longer to realize it.

Support. Support is so important. We all need to feel like we belong. Like we matter and that we are cared about. I believe everyone accepts and expects support differently. It’s especially important to take the time to communicate how you need support if you aren’t receiving it. It’s not too much to ask for.


I can confidently say I’ve now wasted a good portion of your time. That’s what you were after though right?!? Nobody comes to a blog called Ramblings of a Norwegian Woman if they didn’t have a little time to burn.

You are welcome. I promise my next one will be a little more “together.”