Monday, December 12, 2011

When perusing recipes this holiday season, please keep in mind:

Sprinkles are not an optional ingredient, they are the reason you are making this sprinkle delivery device.
The same applies to crafts using glitter.

Monday, October 17, 2011


If you've been a loyal follower you know of the void of current ( read "almost already outdated") tech in my life. Also, the more recent handy dandy links on the side bar may have highlighted my perpetual uncoolness. Anywho, I have joined the present in one single weekend of awesome! Got both an iPhone and a wii. Next weekend I should have the Internet hooked up, and then I'll be like a real person again!
oh, and I did this from my iPhone.

Wednesday, October 05, 2011

the kortship has been hijacked!

My grandparents have been naming their boats "KortShip" since, well, since they started buying boats.  Imagine my suprise while purusing for leopard flats for my new, improved work wardrobe, the name "Kortship" jumps off the page.  What is our boat doing on the Nordstrom shoes website?  It turns out that a style of Steve Madden flats have been named such.  I smell a trademark infringement case!

Tuesday, October 04, 2011

Is anybody out there?

If you couldn't tell by my absence, a lot has been going on.  I have a schnazzy new job, a rocking new place, my stuff is slowly trickling out of it's storage locker purgatory.  I have left the post-law school limbo I was in and returned to my original secondary career path, Accounting. Also, if you hadn't noticed, I bought a shiny new URL for this outdated blog...

On that note, I bring you the new, and with it the shortKort of CPA prep.  Exciting, I know. But smattered in that hodgepodge of accountingy goodness will be bits and pieces of my awesome LA/soCal life that may or may not exist during the few hours I am released from the confines of my fancy Beverly Hills office (oh the irony, I work in the heart of hoity toity and more often than not I'm in the lunch room eating PB&J, at least it's organic...).

Monday, May 09, 2011

Wish List building

The greatest season of all is barreling towards up: summer.  Why is it the greatest season?

Tuesday, March 01, 2011

A chicken walks into a library...

I had an interesting experience today.  It all began with the banal task of picking up a new novel to read at my local public library...

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Always look on the bright side of, I mean life!

Taking the bar exam is one of those experiences you really can't begin to describe unless the other person has been there.  And even then, the California version removes itself to a whole different category of indescribable horribleness.
Yet, in the midst of the horror, I am trying to be a more positive person, look on the bright side of things, some may say...others might say I have accepted the only bright spot in my life may be death and at least that is inevitable, for now at least.  Anywho, the California Bar exam, 3 days (not 2, 3) of torture.  Where is the bright spot?  Well, every six months you have the opportunity to take a 3 day vacation from work, minus the relaxing part.  Aside from the studying and worrying and filling in bubbles and typing until your laptop keys fall off and hoping you don't die of a heart attack from stress (don't worry the EMTs are set up across from the laptop room, seriously...) while simultaneously praying an earthquake hits, its like a reunion.  See, this permutation of the exam is known for being vicious in its pass rates, particularly February.  Why?  No one has ever told me, but I think its because they like taking my money every 6 months.  But, every six months you have the opportunity to catch up with those individuals that you took your first bar exam with, commiserate over the crappy retail jobs you are forced to work because of the lousy job market, figure out where the best island medical school is located, proclaim your plans to take the exam next time in North Carolina, laugh at people who think they are actually passing it their first time...its like a secret party, but only for the initiated.
So congrats to all you DC-ians who finished and the rest who finish today. And to those Thursday essay writers who despise their compadres who are already on their bar-cations, just accept that they are lame.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Wicked is infuriating, but I love it. It's a very distressing subject...

I hate the Wizard of Oz.  When I was younger we had a neighbor who was obsessed with the Wizard of Oz and would watch all the Oz movies all the time.  Have you ever seen Return to Oz?  Most disturbing children's movie, EVER, and I grew up in the 80s... Needless to say, I was forever scarred by these experiences.  Not to say I hate all things Oz related.  "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" is a classic that can't be ignored.  I was totally jazzed when I got to dress up as Dorothy for a dance recital (lil' sisKort's class dressed as the Tinman, being older totally rocked that recital).  I wanted a dog that I could carry around in a basket. (Toto was the original purse dog, dontcha know)  Which is probably why I decided to pick up the novel, Wicked: The Life and Times of The Wicked Witch of the West.  Also, I have a soft spot for villains in stories...are they really villains or are they just misunderstood?

If you have read any of Gregory Maguire's novels you will realize that they are exceptionally dark.  Dark in a good way, though, as all fairy tales truthfully are.  Other than the very end of a fairy tale, when the hero shows up, where is the happiness throughout the story?  So the novel is dark, it ends in death (sorry, it's been 50 years, not a spoiler, it's pretty much a given that if the witch died in Wizard of Oz, she's gonna die in this one too), and for effect, there are a smattering of adult situations throughout the story.  Wicked the novel is not Wicked the musical.

Monday, February 14, 2011

What makes pizza good pizza?

I've been thinking about pizza a lot lately. Most likely due to the fact that I kind of went vegan-esque when I moved back to Cali (for a lot of reasons, none of which being animal rights, sorry PETA!) and haven't had any due to the cheese thing (vegan cheese is not the same as cheese, no matter what anyone says, ever). However, I broke down and had a slice of real pizza with pepperoni on my break today, and oh, how good it was...
Now, some people say there is no such thing as bad pizza. Obviously, these individuals never ate in my elementary school cafeteria...
But what exactly is good pizza? Disregarding the NY vs. Chicago style debate (clearly NY style for the win), what exactly makes pizza sooo good that you go back over and over again?
People will mention artisan ingredients or wood burning ovens or the water for the dough, but there is where the actual dilemma lies. What kind of pizza are we talking about here?
I view pizza as the everyman's food. Everyone, at every level of society, likes it in some capacity (seriously, find me someone who hates all pizza and I will give you a cookie).  Now, I have had some fabulous pizzas, with perfect crusts and fabulous, fantastic toppings, but isn't it the everyman aspect of pizza that make it great? So in my mind, the good pizza is cheap pizza, pizza that you can eat while you are studying, consume cold to sooth your hangover, AND eat with friends at movie night on the couch straight out of the box.  In my mind the perfect pizza was the Jumbo pizza from Ameci's.  It served all these purposes and reminded me of my childhood at the same time.  The pizza is like 20 some slices and cost like $10.  There's not a lot of sauce, the middle gets a little soggy cause it's so big, and the cheese tends to slide off the first slice you pull from the pie. It's this chain from the area where I grew up that happened to put one on my college campus 400 miles away from the rest of their stores.  It's the pizza that was served at my childhood girl scout pizza parties.  It's where I decided pepperoni and pineapple should become pizza topping buddies. It is my guilty pleasure.  And isn't that what good pizza should aim to be, so bad that it is actually good?

Friday, January 28, 2011

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

My great grand little (GGL aka @lifegavemelimes) is getting married; ergo, I get to be a bridesmaid.  As you would be well aware if you kept current with her wedding blog, the bridesmaid dress situation is muy bueno considering we got to choose the dress that looked best on us to wear, even if it does mean that I have to cut off about a foot of fabric from this dress to make it the right length.  So in addition to everything else going on, I am now on a quest to achieve a tan and a sexy back, shoulders, and arms to make me make the dress look good .

In the meantime, though, there are the little wedding things that lead up to the big event, and the next one for me to attend is the Bridal Shower.  I do not know if you have ever been to a bridal shower, but they are far more happening than baby showers, rest assured.  First, the guest of honor is in no way prevented from drinking alcohol (always a plus).  Second, no one tries to make you play guess what this poop-like substance in the diaper actually is.  Further, as the name suggests, the Bride is Showered w/ gifts.  I am rather excited, as GGL (and I guess future Mr. Goodlaff) registered for a plethora of goodies that I get to go shopping for!  In addition, every so often the bride receives lingerie that she is forced to open in front of, and show off to, the entire group, which may or may not include elderly relatives who make classic off-handed comments revealing that they are either closet freaks or would be more comfortable in a burka.  Regardless, the awkward moment is worth every penny when you capture the bride-to-be's face of dread.  (Sex toys also produce this result, if not more so.)

Anywho... this shower also means that I will be heading up to NorCal to attend.  As I have been in PA for the past 3 years and my move back has consisted of me habitating only in SoCal as of yet, I have not had the chance to get up there to visit GGL in her home since leaving Reno.  And I have yet to even meet the future Mr. Goodlaff. (But, we are now friends on Facebook due to a glowing recommendation of me as a social networking compadre by GGL after I friend requested him.)  Needless to say, I am very excited to be attending in a few months.  Inasmuch that I spent an evening this week determining (and trying on) suitable ensembles to wear to such an event (which I thought I had down, but as I was writing this it struck me that Mid-March in the Tahoe-ish area is not really warm, per se...), as I have been informed that a hat will be required to accompany me.  A HAT!  Like one you would wear to afternoon tea, or a polo match, or the now i have to get a hat.  Now, this hat thing is all in good fun, because my GGL is like awesomely quirky in a good way and responded enthusiastically positive when I suggested I may wear the mad hatter hat I got at Disneyland one year.  But, I will leave that hat where it belongs, in one of my boxes in the storage locker and seek out an appropriate hat for the occasion.

To begin, I have discounted the ball caps and visors, as well as the various bucket hats and lifeguarding hats I have floating around.
I already have a Panama Hat that would do the job adequately.  Especially if I decided to channel Meyer Wolfshiem* for some reason.

But I see this as an opportunity to make a purchase.
I am drawn to a floppy straw hat because of it's possibility to be dressed up.
In addition, I can wear this to the beach when I want to look like an ingenue hiding behind the giant hat whilst lounging on the sand. 
But then, I realize it is not yet summer.  A cloche type hat may be more apropo.
Or even a beret.

So what do you think?  Stick with the classic, floppy straw number or embrace my inner french girl?

*GGL was an English major of some sort, she would understand the reference as should you, I hope, you graduated from High School, right?...otherwise, google it!
ALSO: What do you do with a B.A. in English? What is my life going to be? 4 years of college, and plenty of knowledge has earned me this useless degree...