Maeve Update

My almost seven-month-old niece is struggling to make any more improvements after last week's huge strides.

Backstory: Maeve was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance St. Patrick's Day night after she started turning blue. Several days later she spent six hours in open heart surgery - her first of eight operations. Maeve was born with several congenital heart defects and other problems, all of which have led to serious complications.

Since then, my darling baby niece has gone into cardiac arrest, struggled with collapsed lungs and faced a long laundry list of other medical maladies.

Last week doctors determined Maeve had improved enough where she did not need a machine beating in place of her heart. Over the past weekend they also took her off the ventilator and instead gave her a simple tube with 100 percent oxygen - allowing her to breathe on her own.

It was the first major good news we've had in these six heartbreaking weeks.

Tonight my sister writes that doctors put Maeve back on the ventilator yesterday. Maeve's left lung is also very collapsed - previously her right lung was collapsed but that appears to be fine now.

Maeve's hands and feet have been shaking and doctors say they could be possible seizures. They are trying to keep an eye on things and will run some neurological tests (ct scan, etc.) if they happen again.

Doctors did an ultrasound of Maeve's head but Brig says it was difficult to see anything since the baby's soft spot is closing up.

Please keep this darling girl in your thoughts and prayers. My sister is dying to hold her little girl in her arms. She hasn't cradled her baby in over six weeks.

Maeve has been fighting to survive for so long. We are hoping at some point she is able to thrive.

My sister, Brigid, with the Maevey Bean

Picket Fences & Pool Houses

I love valet parking.

The little luxury saves me when I'm running late, when the weather's bad and when I'm wearing my F Me Pumps. Valet is a reasonable expense downtown depending on the circumstance.

Can you imagine offering valet parking at your home?

When the people of Indian Hill have a party - whether it be a pot luck or a more glamorous soiree - they have valet parking. Valet parking on the Fourth of July. Valet parking for charity fundraisers. Valet parking for political shindigs and valet parking for Christmas parties. These fine people dress to the nines and fling open the doors to their multi-million dollar mansions, inviting friends, co-workers and other associates to check out the pool house and their bowling alley.

So goes the luxe life in one of the nation's most affluent communities.

I have some personal and social connections that allow me to enjoy - for just a brief, flickering moment - how the other half (more like one percent) lives. I am always polite, gracious and awestruck, starting with the moment I pull my car up to the circular driveway.

My childhood years were spent in a more modest East Side Cincinnati suburb, but during my high school days I did get to enjoy the rarefied air of a privileged community in Connecticut. We were a far cry from the kids who lived on the beach, but my family was comfortable and I am grateful for all I was given as a kid (I'll admit it took me a while to appreciate the way I was raised).

The sad thing is, I don't know if I'll ever live that well again.

My generation - the Gen Xers - is likely the first group of people to not surpass the standard of living our parents exposed us to when we were kids.

That unfortunate possibility is not getting any help from our nation's tenuous economy and the rapidly dwindling lock box that was the Social Security system.

Our grandparents worked hard and pinched pennies to send our moms and dads to college, and our parents took advantage of that gift to get ahead in the business world. They, in turn, paid for our trips to summer camp, our soccer uniforms and our violin lessons.

Our parents gave us everything. What will we be able to give our own children? The current situation of the nation's economy makes me wonder whether we'll ever come close to the same standard of living.

I don't need to give my kids a pool house or a home with a cavernous glass solarium. I am okay with living without a circular driveway and a wine cellar.

What I do want, though, is a cozy home in a quaint neighborhood. Maybe a picket fence and a Volvo in the garage.

And we can forgo the valet parking.

Desire's Dance

Here's a question for you:

Lust much?

Get ready: one of the hottest ballet performances to grace the stage is hitting Cincinnati 's Aronoff Center Starting May 9th.

Carmina Burana & Serenade are two spectacular, different ballets that explore the human condition - including dark humor, lust for life and deep passion.

Carmina Burana is incedentally an amazing piece of music you're sure to recognize. Click on this YouTube clip if you're curious.

This ballet is the last of the season for Cincinnati 's ballet corps and it's sure to be phenomenal. I started volunteering with the ballet a year and a half ago and am now on the ballet's YP committee. I had no idea this challenging art form wasn't as high brow and stuffy as I thought.


It's sexy.


It's fresh.

It's the height of hip.

There are several interesting options for you to explore if you're curious, including an exclusive Behind The Scenes tour at the Aronoff.

Some additional details: you can get $10 off your tickets if you buy them online at http://www.cincinnatiballet.com/.

Hope to see you there!

At the Aronoff Center - May 9th through 11th

Visit http://www.cincinnatiballet.com/ for more information

The 'Dam

Amsterdam has come up a lot in conversation lately.

Friday night I had an interesting discussion with a man about the fine European city's stance on illegal drug use. Amsterdam has a beautiful tradition of tolerance - whether that be of race, religion, sexual orientation or nationality. The city also, as a rule, is tolerant of those more bohemian types who like to roll a joint once in a while, provided it doesn't interfere with anybody else's business.

Last night I was listening to some music with Jos when he played for me Jacque Brel's Amsterdam. I only know Brel's work through Joseph - who considers the musician one of the greatest singers of all time. Every time I listen to the guy (or watch any of his clips on YouTube) I can't help but feel his passion for his music. Then we listened to Scott Walker's version, which wasn't nearly as unusual as some of his more recent and more obtuse music.

But Amsterdam. That's what we're talking about, right?

It is a gem of a city - a metropolis of relaxed sophistication. You can buy culture by the bucket in this watery port city. Rembrandt and Van Gogh both called Amsterdam home at one time or another, and the legendary artists are enshrined with their own museums featuring a number of prominent works. The city has other artistic venues to explore, like the many stores selling the classic blue-and-white delft pottery made in the village by the same name. Travelers can also explore the many phenomenal diamond cutting houses - likely the next best thing to Antwerp - that create stunning gems that can be considered works of art in their own right.

Amsterdam: where else will you see chickens roaming at a tram stop?

Amsterdam is a stunning study of contradictions at times - provincial markets with goods brought from the village, and around the corner boutiques hawking the height of fashion. Cozy, well worn bars pour their jenever the same way they have for hundreds of years and painstakingly modern clubs hidden in edgy industrial buildings (think: a cross between a heroin den and a condemned warehouse) radiate the latest in euro club beats.

Amsterdam is not as big as some of its European cousins. It's quite tiny compared to London, Paris and Rome. Those are fine cities (well, I've never been to Rome) and if I were to be cremated I'd want some of my ashes spread in the UK's biggest city. But Amsterdam - when I take a deep breath, it's the place where I know I can exhale.

Another Maevey Milestone

My sister sent an email saying doctors removed my niece's breathing tube yesterday!

This is (in the classic words of a nameless Local 12 reporter) a big damn deal because that means Maeve is going to start trying to breathe on her own. Brig says she can now almost see Maeve's entire, gorgeous face. The Maevey Bean is back on oxygen - meaning she is still breathing on her own but has tubes of oxygen ensuring she is getting air through her nose. She was on oxygen for several months after she came home from the hospital and Brigid says this time it is cranked up to 100% - a much higher quantity than before.

Doctors say they would not be surprised if they had to put Maeve back on her breathing tube because she had it in so long and is used to having a machine do her breathing for her. The change is a lot for her tiny, little body to do on its own but it is good practice and a major step in her recovery.

Maeve had a new chest tube put in Friday - this tube went in to her right lung as opposed to previous tubes going right into her heart. This new tube aims to fight the pleural effusion, or lots of fluid built up around her right lung. Doctors inserted another chest tube into her left lung yesterday because of fluid built up there, too.

Brigid asks you all to please continue your kind thoughts and prayers about Maeve and her recovery. My sister says she got to see Maeve's little mouth blowing bubbles yesterday and that it was so cute. Brigid is anxious to give that baby her favorite orange pacifier.

Our Lips Are Sealed

A Girls' Night Out started with sushi and ended with some fun stories to tell another time...

Sushi at Aoi at Newport On The Levee. I recommend the spider & barbecue shrimp rolls.

We moved on to Bang to watch a fashion show benefitting the League and sip on some fun cocktails. We got a little snap happy...

From there, we had a cocktail at Twist before heading over the river for some PBR at Newport's Southgate House.

No cover last night - but some great live music there all the same. I really enjoyed these two guys playing in the parlour - acoustic Johnny Cash covers. The crowd was a mix of tats and retro 50s greased up ducktails. The musicians wore flannel shirts and work boots. It was homespun Americana - delicious.

Date Night

Name: Man Magnet
Inventor: Raven
Age: 11
Comments: She attracts men and they fight over her.

You can't really put a price on creativity.

It is revered by bosses, celebrated by art teachers everywhere, and as a rule - relished by every girlfriend.

Now, when it comes to date night, some guys will phone it in. They pick a chain restaurant or a swankier venue awash in white table cloths, and they call it a night.

Most women will sip on their chardonnay and slice in to their chicken breast wrapped in applewood smoked bacon with nary a complaint, but inside they're thinking, God. Does this guy even know how to try?

And that's when I offer to you Happen's Toy Lab.

The Toy Lab in Mt. Washington is this amazing place that helps children create new toys by using pieces of old, broken versions that are recycled for parts. The venue is a non profit arts center, and its website claims its the only place of its kind in the entire world.

Children, whether they be nine or 90, can comb through containers full of toy parts - detatched heads, wheels, blocks, animal limbs - and create something totally new.

The lab has an on line gallery of creations made by children - I especially enjoyed the Man Magnet doll (pictured above).

Happen's Toy Lab is a great place for a new relationship to blossom - you can explore your creativity, be silly and revert back to your childhood days.

Just don't start namecalling or chasing each other around the lab. Perhaps you should choose more mature ways to show your interest.

Happen's Toy Lab—5208 Beechmont Ave. Cincinnati, OH. 45230—(513) 751-2345

Open Saturday & Sunday 11am–5pm

You can call for reservations or for more information: Mon.–Fri. 9am–5:30pm

Keep The Prayers Coming, Please!

My six-month-old niece, Maeve, has made the greatest strides in her recovery since she went to the hospital over five weeks ago for emergency open heart surgery.

My sister and father both emailed me to spread the good news- Maeve had her first echo cardiogram since her cardiac arrest three weeks ago and doctors were very impressed as the thickness in the walls of her heart was markedly better. Brigid says that's a huge thing because of a previous diagnosis of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, which doctors believed would have inhibited the improvement of the heart for several months or forever.

If the heart tissue continued to stay as thick as it was, that would have led to a greater need for a heart transplant - so this is huge news.

Also, doctors removed her chest tubes - we are so grateful for this because the chest tubes going into her mouth are believed to be very painful. It's quite hard for a six-month-old little girl to express pain but Brigid has seen sadness in Maeve's eyes and noticed the baby crying from time to time. Just the thought of it breaks my heart. We are so glad they took out these tubes, and doctors are optimistic they will be able to take Maeve off her breathing tube in the next days. Doctors have done several tests on the baby's ventilator and Maeve did very well so, if all goes well, Maeve could be off her breathing tube soon - meaning Brigid and Steve would get to hold their sweet baby girl for the first time in over five weeks.

There is still cause for concern. Maeve experienced some major arrhythmias yesterday (irregular heartbeats) that would go from 143 to 87 up to 156 in seconds. Brigid and Steve were worried but the experts at Atlanta's Sibley Heart Center were not too concerned.

Brig talked to Mom and Dad last night and they say my sister was in extremely high spirits. Thursday was Maeve's best day in weeks and we are hoping and praying for more miraculous victories in this little girl's fight to stay alive.

We are a bit cautious as we celebrate this news, because every time Maeve shows progress, something critically wrong happens and we are left with heartbreak and disappointment.

But right now we are staying positive, continuing to pray and hoping that little girl is home or out of the CICU and in the step-down unit by Mother's Day.

Nurses are warning Brig and Steve that Maeve will be like a brand new baby when she goes home. She will be seven-months-old or more but will have lost a lot of her motor skills over this month+ of inactivity.

Maeve is keeping her eyes open all the time now and Brigid spends lots of time talking to her baby, rubbing Maeve's arms and legs and letting Maeve hold her mommy's finger.

All of the swelling has gone down around Maeve's head and almost all of the bruising on her torso is gone, too. Maeve still has some fluid in one of her lungs and doctors may need to insert a small tube to relieve the pressure because she hasn't gotten rid of the fluid on her own.

Please keep Maeve in your thoughts and prayers. This tiny little girl has a long way to go before she's out of the woods. One thing's certain - all of the positive thinking and humble requests to God are definitely working.

Wingman

It's great to have someone by your side when you're going in to battle.

JFK had RFK.
Maverick had Goose.
Shaggy had Scooby.

Every person needs that team mate who they can tag when they need some help - whether it be when you're in the office, on the court or at the bar.


I have Jos.

He is my confidant, my window into the male psyche, my big brother.



I've known Jos for around eight years, so I call him when I want to reminisce about the glory days.

I call him when I want a suggestion for a new band to dig into.

My wingman is goofy but deep. He's easy to be with but will challenge your perspective on life.

Jos pushes me to be a better person and I push him to ask for the digits of the cute girl he moons over.

I enjoy Joseph's unique perspective on faith, the universe and humanity. He appreciates my unconventional depth.

Every chick needs a wingman as good as Jos.

Maeve's Mama

I had a great talk with Brig tonight.

Most of our conversation focused on Maeve and the slight, ever-so-gradual improvements she's making, but every once in a while our thoughts would wander and we'd talk about our favorite desserts or boys we had crushes on in high school.

Maeve still has a long, long way to go. She weighs around 15 lbs or so and doctors want her to go potty and get rid of more fluid. She also has an infection in her throat that is potentially dangerous because it could spread and cause more problems. Maeve has fluid in her lungs and still has several drains in her chest. The baby has developed more heart problems - in fact, every single thing that could be wrong with her heart IS wrong. My sister now sounds like a cardiologist when she speaks - she rattles off acronyms and long, complicated conditions like she's explaining how to make a peanut butter sandwich.

There isn't one good thing about Maeve's heart, save for the fact it is determined to pump blood and survive this crisis.

I sent Brig and Steve an international cheese basket last week (what do you get a couple who are devastated about the ever present absence of their little girl?? Flowers? A barbershop quartet? Liquor?) because Brig and I loved calling things cheesy when we were younger. It's such a meaningless gesture but, aside from my almost daily phone message, was the only thing I could do to show my love since I can't be there to wrap my arms around her and let my sister cry on my shoulder.

Cheese. It makes everything better. Especially brie... but chevre and muenster are good, too.

Maeve also had a fever of 104 degrees this weekend, and that's really held up her ability to get better. Every day my niece makes the slightest, barely noticeable improvement, but each day that progress will add up and we are hoping for some miraculous results in a week, a month, whatever.

Today Brig saw Maeve open her eyes the biggest ever since she was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance five weeks ago. My sister says the baby still looked pretty sedated but her line of sight actually followed Brigid's movements.

I am certain a baby will recognize their mother no matter the circumstances.

We are hoping with all hope that Maeve will make it home in time for Mother's Day, or at the very least will be transferred out of the cardiac ICU and into the step-down unit, where Brig will get to sleep in the same room as Maeve every night.

My sister and brother-in-law thank you all so much for your prayers, your kind thoughts and your positive energy.

Scant Information Out Of Atlanta

My parents finally talked to Brigid this weekend.

I try and leave a message of encouragement once a day but I understand my sister is going through a difficult time. I imagine it's hard to pick up the phone and shoot the breeze when your daughter is on life support.

The following is an excerpt of an email I received from my dad yesterday.

Maeve has a small infection (not in her blood) that they think is in her throat. Apparently because of one of the tubes. I think Brig said she had a fever of 104 this weekend. Brigie told told us that Maeve had had 8 operations now (think that included all the heart stuff as well as the opening her up and closing her back up again.

Dad says I can expect a call from Brig sometime this evening so hopefully I'll have more information to report tonight.

Thanks for the positive thinking and prayers for my wonderful niece, Maeve.

KtG

Impetus

I do because I can.

That's the response I came up with when someone once challenged me for a reason behind all my volunteer work and civic commitments. It was a teasing question meant to imply that my life wouldn't have any meaning without the obligations, but in retrospect I think it's my life that gives those obligations meaning.

An olympian does not wake up one morning and decide to lace up his sneakers and chase after a gold medal. He runs thousands and thousands of miles. He studies technique and spends hours conditioning his body. He pounds the pavement in rain and snow and wind and sweltering heat. He evaluates every vitamin and every ounce of food and water that passes his lips. He relies on ice packs and heating pads to soothe an aching body.

The marathon runner eats, breathes, sweats and dreams about his goal - the ultimate finish line - often times dedicating himself to years of rigorous training in a quest to stand atop the winner's podium.

It is passion, patience and sheer ambition that leads the marathon runner through the challenges and obstacles on the path to victory.

I have my own finish line.

My list of goals is a short one, but it's important all the same. I've spent years working toward my own aspirations, fully aware that most good things don't just happen to people, they evolve after a long term commitment to hard work.

My dedication to my career and local civic initiatives are all a part of my plan to become a better person. I have filled up my life with worthwhile interests and I firmly believe they will lead me to personal growth, a sense of fulfillment and true love.

Every day I strive to live with passion because I do not want life to pass me by as I go through the motions.

I want to experience life as it happens.

Quick Pics

Every detail was perfect...

Jos putting his best face forward.

Jos' alter ego - or what he looks like before the vino.

KtG & fellow committee member KK - so white you could white balance off me.

My friend and fellow leaguer LB with boyfriend JB (I think Jos developed a man crush)

KF, TA & KtG

The day after - it is so fun to go home with Tiffany blue.

Song Of My Heart

Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,
and think of you
caught up in circles confusion--
is nothing new
Flashback--warm nights-- almost left behind
suitcases of memories,
time after--

sometimes you picture me--
I'm walking too far ahead
you're calling to me, I can't hear
what you've said--
Then you say--go slow--
I fall behind--
the second hand unwinds

chorus: if you're lost you can look--and you will find me
time after time
if you fall I will catch you--I'll be waiting
time after time

after my picture fades and darkness has
turned to gray
watching through windows--you're wondering
if I'm OK
secrets stolen from deep inside
the drum beats out of time--

chorus: if you're lost...

you said go slow--
I fall behind
the second hand unwinds--

chorus: if you're lost...
...time after time
time after time
time after time
time after time

Quick Lit

The hot rollers are in my hair and I'm waiting for the curls to set.

Jos is picking me up in 45 minutes for the Aultimate Affair - the Junior League of Cincinnati's annual gala event.

My toes got a much needed (and deserved) pedicure this morning and are now covered in a beautiful irredescent pink. My hair got a bit of a renovation, too, after four hours in the chair swathed in bleach and foil.

I spent two weeks shopping for the perfect outfit - black strapless dress, hot pink slides and a cute black cardigan that will work at the office, too. I opted to forgo a new handbag (I really wanted this adorable Kate Spade straw clutch) after taking home one too many pair of shoes (how could I say no to a pair of Coach flats marked down from $159 to $52?). The jewelry will be my own - a turquoise and black onyx necklace made of beads I got in the Netherlands.

I think we're gonna do the gala thing and then catch up with Bluegrass Brit and her man afterwards.

I am sipping on some more of that prosecco and eating shrimp cocktail, thinking about the week that was...

Last night I had a great time catching up with my best friend's brother, GI Yogurt, and a bunch of his wild friends from C-bus. We sipped on Dunkel in the Hofbrauhaus biergarten and then did some table dancing inside before making our way to the Beer Sellar on the river.

Still can't believe an earthquake rattled the Midwest yesterday morning. I consistently struggle with insomnia and so I didn't think much when I woke up early. I have a vivid memory of the quake that rumbled in the Tri-State in 1987 - I was laying on the floor of our playroom watching tv with my mom and Brig. The green carpet literally rippled like a massive wave in the ocean. My mom mentioned today that the event was a wild event to see in action, and I can say it felt weird actually riding such a sensation first hand.

I've heard through the grapevine that one of my regular readers (and you know who you are) has started reading more books lately. I have a few great suggestions to offer:

• Garlic & Sapphires by Ruth Reichl. It's a hilarious, true account of the great lengths a new New York Times food editor goes to avoid being identified by the restaurants she reviews.
• Ces't la Vie by Suzy Gershman. Also a true story, this book reveals that everyone has a second chance at happiness. Gershman tells the tale of packing up her worldy goods in search of life and joy in Paris after the death of her husband.
• To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. One of the great American classics, always worth another reading.

I'll keep my eye open for any other humorous or uplifting suggestions.

Gotta go now - Cinderella's got a ball to attend.

Memo On Maeve

The doctors stitched my niece back up for a fourth time yesterday afternoon.

Brig tells my dad the swelling has gone down in Maeve's head and now she only has a swollen torso. Last night and today were critical for the Maevey Bean - every time she has been stitched up previously, she has developed a problem with her blood pressure.

The baby is doing a good job of getting rid of her fluids but we are nervous about her blood pressure levels as it is critical they stay stable.

One of Maeve's nurses has been working at the Sibley Heart Center's cardiac care center for 2 ½ years, and at a similar facility in Cleveland for 4 years before that. The nurse apparently told Brigid that in all her time as a cardiac care nurse she has only seen one other patient as critical as Maeve and that Maeve is a very strong little girl.

Maeve has now been in the hospital for over four weeks. Friday marks one month since her initial open-heart surgery. That six-month-old little girl has an amazing will to live.

Please keep the Maevey Bean in your prayers - this is a very critical time for her.

In Excess

Dinner plans are the last thing you should make when you're trying to cut calories.

Unfortunately this week marks the First Ever Kate Must Eat Out Every Day Of The Week Week.

Yeah, it's an unfortunate coincidence considering my super-ego wants to critique every entree before intake - and yet the id in me ultimately wins out, choosing fried decadence over raw roughage.

Monday marked the start of my round-robin restaurant tour, with a tasty trip to Oakley's Green Papaya. My dining partner and I both decided to set our meals up with some delicious bubble tea. Now, don't go thinking this is the sweet tea variety you've come to know and love in the Deep South. Bubble Tea actually has little to no resemblance to tea. I went with an avocado flavored version, complete with the gummy, purply black tapioca balls that lie in wait at the bottom of the frozen concoction. It was delicious. Don't be afraid, just grow some cojones and pick your own interesting flavor.

For lunch, I went with the box lunch, which is similar to a bento box you might find at a Japanese restaurant. My particular entree started off with a bowl of miso soup, then the server delivered a beautiful Asian box with compartments full of salad, a spring roll, orange slices, veggie pad thai and sashimi - tuna, salmon and other raw fish.

The sashimi was very fresh and tender and I loved the veggie pad thai, but it wasn't nearly as good as what I've had at other neighborhood spots.

Tuesday my mom and I caught a bite to eat before going to the theatre. We decided to visit my new favorite dining spot - Jean Robert de Cavel's Lavomatic in Over-the-Rhine. Mom went with the tarte starter that featured a flattened, puffed pastry rolled out like pizza dough, topped with bits of caramelized onions, bits of bacon and excellent cheese. I went with the charcuterie starter that included duck liver pate, country pate, prosciutto and a meat that reminded me of pancetta. The dish was served with a side of pickled vegetables including beats, Brussels sprouts, tiny onions perfect for a Gibson cocktail and one gorgeous baby carrot.

I sipped on a Leffe draught along with my fancy plate of meats - I last had Leffe at a quaint pub on the Leidenplatz in Amsterdam, and the flavor instantly brought me back to my fabulous trip last fall.

Wednesday was a double hitter of sorts. After starting the week with Thai and French food, I decided to keep the international flair going with a lunch of Korean food. I met up with a friend of mine for a bite at Sung Korean Bistro - I had never been there but a co-worker gave me a glowing recommendation of the bibimbab, so that's exactly what I had. I highly suggest getting the stone bowl bibimbab should you decide to venture to Sung for a meal. For two bucks more your heaping mix of meat, rice, fried egg and veggies come served in a bowl of carved stone. The stone is heated until its extremely hot to the touch (don't even think about it), continuing to cook the dish. The hot stone cooks the rice on the bottom until it develops a wonderful, crunchy crust that punctuates through the rest of the meal. I like my entrees with a little bit more flavor, so I chose to dump in the whole ramekin of spicy bean chili paste served on the side. In all, the dish was fabulous and well worth the 14 bucks.

Wednesday night I decided to take a break from the International Festival that had become my diet. I met Ground Chuck for our monthly dinner out - this time at Chef Sean Daly's Hugo. The restaurant prides itself on serving up sophisticated Southern food - the kind of dishes you could find at Paula Deen's Lady & Sons in Savannah. The restaurant's walls are covered in gorgeous prints showcasing the lowcountry and other Southern gems, just barely hinting at the masterpiece about to land on your taste buds. I went with a rabbit burgoo and the fried oysters topping mushrooms and pickled onions. The small plates were phenomenal.

The drinks were just as great. The bartender went out of his way to pour me a couple special glasses - the first was a deliciously tart lemon drop martini. The second (and my favorite) was a cocktail concoction of gin, simple syrup and muddled blueberries. The flavor was very crisp, fresh and not overly sweet like I thought. The name of the cocktail was great, too - Veruca Salt (But Daddy! I want an Oompa Loompa!)

The week of incredible dining continues tomorrow.

I'm meeting up with a fellow Junior Leaguer for a bite at a place that supposedly has spectacular slider burgers (no, not White Castle) and a great patio.

And Friday night isn't so much about dining out as it is having a beer with D Money's little brother. We're catching up at the best place a German-Irish girl can grab a brew south of the Ohio River.

Who's ready to dance on some tables?

Correction

Change is in the air.

That's the hypothesis I've cooked up while sitting in my bedroom sipping on a nice, cold glass of prosecco - my belly full of shrimp cocktail and a stuffed manicotti Healthy Choice meal.

This post comes after checking in with the wonderful writings of NB-C and Nat - two wonderful women experiencing their own miraculous changes. Their words inspired me to reflect on the changes happening in my own life.

Sometimes its easier to turn a new leaf when you're handed a whole book of change.

'Tis the season for personal discovery and growth, and I guess I am not one to buck the system - at least in this case.

Some people don't like embarking on too much change all at once, but I am taking advantage of my new career - ensuring the benefits make a positive impact in my life.

My new job has lifted a major weight off my shoulders. I don't feel any internal conflict caused by negative energy. My new salary has opened up an opportunity to save for the future. My new hours have led me to hit the gym after work.

I can't remember the last time I felt this happy.

The world is dishing out so many twists and turns these days, I am so grateful I am embracing the changes with open arms and anticipation.

I can't wait to see what happens next.

Maeve Update

My parents got an email from Brig last night -

Maeve is apparently losing more fluid and her blood pressure and heart rate are good.

The baby had an ultrasound done on her head Saturday because a nurse thought my niece was moving a bit strange - with her hands turned in to her body. They wanted to make sure no neurological issues had developed. Fortunately the ultrasound came back looking fine.

The baby has some more fluid on her right lung and may need to have an additional chest tube put in if the fluid doesn't drain out.

Maeve has had a fever on and off so the hospital took some cultures to see if she has an infection - those results have not come back, but my sister says that's a good sign.

Doctors haven't said anything about closing Maeve's chest back up but Brigid is hopeful that could happen today or tomorrow if things continue to look positive.

The swelling on Maeve's head has gone down, but her torso is still swollen.

Brig says she got to give Maevey Bean another sponge bath Saturday night - I am sure she just loved that...

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this will be the third - and last - time doctors have to stitch her chest back up...

Holding Pattern

We haven't heard much out of Atlanta regarding Maeve's progress - which means she's not improving by leaps and bounds. It also means, thankfully, that she is not getting any worse.

There have been minor improvements since I last posted about my six-month-old niece. She is apparently losing her fluid, and that means she's one step closer to getting her chest stitched back up a third time after her open heart procedure three weeks ago.

My parents returned to Cincinnati late Thursday night after spending about a week in the A-T-L. They mostly kept my sister and her husband preoccupied and would tag along for hospital visits.

By Tuesday Maeve had lost 100 cc of fluid and her doctor was really happy about that. Her blood pressure had also started improving by that point. Maeve is still sleeping but my dad says they would see her arms and her hands moving, and every once in a while they'd catch her making a face.

My parents and Brig all took turns holding Maeve's hand and they were thrilled when she would squeeze back.

By Wednesday Maeve had lost 400 cc and the nurses were so happy with her progress they were dancing around her bed and cheering.

Thursday Maeve was down 1000 cc but still needed to go potty a little bit more to get rid of her fluids. My parents say Maeve likes to sleep with her left eye open just a crack -just so she can "keep an eye on what's going on."

This past week Brig and Mom were at Maeve's bedside and she was resting and she opened both of her eyes wide open, looked at Mom and looked at Brig and then went back to sleep. They kind of thought she was saying "Oh, there's Mommy and there's Nana. Everything's okay."

My parents say they may go back to Atlanta in a week or two depending on what the situation is down there and what Brig needs.

Strike A Pose

We got a bit snap happy while enjoying Cincinnati's hottest new bar last night.

KtG, Zooey, X5 and Bluegrass Brit.

I think X5 and I were a couple martinis in at this point - I recommend the Deliciously Dirty.

Bluegrass Brit was very upset that I didn't bring Jos with me.

We don't know who this random dude is, but he wanted his pic taken with Bluegrass Brit. As you can see she was a little bit scared.

I would have gotten in this photo but I don't have a British accent.

Best Dressed

I was pretty much a dork.

At least that's what the kids called it when I was in school. Mine was a fate tainted by errant genetics and immature taste. My head was topped by a kinky mass of haystack blonde hair - or as I lovingly call it, "White Girl Afro." The hair was so bad that my grandmother used to ask my aunt in private why my mom gave me, "all those awful permanents."

My aunt reluctantly replied that a perm wasn't at fault for the freak of nature north of my forehead.

The second facet of that plague was my incessant interest in any clothing that completely deviated from the acceptable norms of junior high fashion sense circa 1990. Most girls in 8th grade were infatuated with those peg leg Guess? jeans with the little gold zippers on the ankles. I was infatuated with baggy, red checked Esprit pants. I suppose I got the brand right, but the material looked like it was ripped off a table at the neighborhood Kountry Kitchen.

Yeah, I wasn't quite a fashion plate back in the day.

But all that changed once I got out on my own and started earning my own money.

My first investment purchase was a $250 Coach purse I bought a month after I graduated from college. It's a beautiful, black leather bag that I still carry around all these years later. My mom thought I was insane at the time for spending so much money on a handbag. Why does a 22-year-old unemployed girl need such a nice purse? I can still hear it in my head today. But I look back on the day I bought that purse and I remember the sense of accomplishment I felt when spending my own hard earned money on something so beautiful. So luxurious. So rich.

I still carry that bag to job interviews, the theatre, social occasions, professional functions and the neighborhood bar - and it still looks great. So I guess the 250 dollar investment breaks down to almost 25 bucks a year when you consider how long I've carried the purse.

Well worth it, in my opinion, and way better than a bunch of cheapie handbags.

Ever since I graduated from college, I've had a firm resolve to buy nothing but the best. The best purses, the best shoes, the best jewelry - the best that money can buy - because I remember the bitter, second-rate feeling I endured in grade school.

Don't get me wrong. I'm the first to admit - clothes don't make the (wo)man. The same goes for expensive clothes. I am tickled when I find a pair of $150 shoes on sale for 40 bucks. I am equally happy when I find a quality made good, whether it be a shoe, a lamp or a bottle of wine, at the neighborhood Big Box Store.

But all these years later, I have a strong resolve - I am entitled to nothing but the best, because I've worked hard, I've waited long and I've suffered much to get to where I am today.

So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright

Goodbye is a hard word to say.

The sound itself is not difficult to produce - it starts with (I'm relying on a couple linguistics classes, now) a plosive, velar consonant made in the back of the mouth with the tongue and soft palate.

Spitting the word out of the mouth isn't hard, it's what goodbye connotes that makes saying those consonants and vowels difficult.

No matter what people say, goodbye means change. Goodbye means distance. Goodbye means gravitating away from a situation of constant presence.

Sometimes goodbye means don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Most of the time, though, goodbye is said with a sort of sadness.

That's how I feel about my time at Channel 12.

I walked in the door in March 2005 with a bruised, defeated ego. My confidence was completely destroyed by my previous employer and I was woefully insecure about working in a television market two times bigger than Lexington. I was also intimidated by the thought of working at one of the best stations in the nation.

Everything about Local 12 was a polar opposite to my experience in the Bluegrass.

Lexington's newsroom was dominated by youth - the station had one senior reporter to carry the load - the average age in the newsroom skewed toward the mid-twenties.

Local 12 brimmed with experience - a majority of the newsroom was in their late 30s to early 40s, with most of the reporting staff in their 40s and 50s. Local 12 also brimmed with great ratings, great recognition and a great reputation.

The accolades are fine and dandy, but it's how I was treated that I will always remember.

I heard a relevant quote just today from the COO at my new office (stick with me, that info is on the way): People will not always remember the words you said or the things you did, but they will always, always remember how you made them feel.

How profound is that?

There are a few people and a few experiences I will remember shrouded in a cloud of negativity, but by in large I will recall the exceptional goodwill that flourished at Local 12. I will remember the kind moments I shared with many people while working in that newsroom, and for that I am eternally grateful.

Local 12 gave me an opportunity to find my confidence. Local 12 gave me a chance to flex my producing muscles and grow as a broadcast journalist. Local 12 opened up the chance to meet so many incredible people, a phenomenal group of individuals whom I will never forget.

Thank you - my friends at Local 12. You know who you are, and I know who you are, and hopefully that means we won't go long before saying hello once more.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Now, for the new job bit.

I started feeling some career growing pains about a year ago.

About a year earlier, I dove head first into the world of volunteering and discovered so many wonderful opportunities to help the community. I became a member of the Junior League of Cincinnati in 2006 and that introduced me to the wide array of needs around town. I spent time at a local battered women's shelter, I ushered at performances of the Cincinnati Ballet. A couple months ago I was voted onto the board of trustees for a local agency that battles child abuse.

At the same time, I really started evaluating the direction I was headed in life. The broadcasting business is a road paved with relocations and unusual shift demands. I decided I didn't want to dig up the roots I worked so hard to cultivate - but I didn't want to get stuck in a situation with no mobility.

My priorities shifted - no longer was I the rockin' party girl I knew so well in my 20s. I had become a volunteer with a vested interest in making my community a better place.

I wanted to honor the duration of my contract, so I waited until January to look for opportunities out of the tee vee business. It was all prompted by a conversation I had with my platonic boyfriend Jos - I guess you could say I owe my new job to him.

A few days in to the new gig - I know this career change is spot on.

I now work in the marketing department at the United Way of Greater Cincinnati. Ours is the ninth biggest out of 1300 United Way agencies in the nation - a daunting statistic that intimidates me. My particular position is dedicated to the media relations aspect of marketing, and I am anxious to use my experience, my know-how and my connections to help publicize the United Way and the 150 local agencies it helps financially support.

I am a little bit scared about this new venture, but I know fear is a good thing. It will help motivate me, push me and challenge me to learn new things about an entirely different profession.

Step By Step

The following is a letter I received from my father this evening.

Hi Katy,
Maeve had a pretty good day. She made some progress on the elimination of fluids (tinkle). She is still very swollen, but her doctor said he would have been happy if she was just even, but she was down 100cc. Her blood pressure has also gotten better. That is a good start according to Steve (my brother-in-law).

Maeve is still sleeping, but we see her moving her arms and her hands, and every now and then she makes a face, but she keeps her eyes closed. We took turns having Maeve wrap her hand around one of our fingers and talking to her. Every now and then she would squeeze our finger, which would make each of us very happy.

This morning, and yesterday, Steve went to work and mom and I went to the hospital with Brig. In the mornings and in the evenings I get to walk Biscuit. He is a real handful. Sometimes he just pulls me around like a rag doll. Well, the progress is very slow with Maeve, but she is going in the right direction.
Love
Dad

Slow And Steady Wins The Race

Hello friends!

I really need to buckle down and write a couple blogs about a) my final thoughts on my old job at Local 12 and b) my budding impressions of my new job (I know some of you are dying to know what it is...)

But it's late and I am tired, so I'm just going to write a brief Maevey update.

The current situation reminds me of the old fable of the Tortoise and the Hare.

The bunny is so quick to win the race that he breaks down and rests and takes it easy. Meantime, the turtle is slow but determined and ends up crossing the finish line ahead of that wascaly wabbit.

I see a lot of that turtle in my Maevey.

My niece isn't getting better by leaps and bounds, but she is crossing little milestones, and they deserve to be celebrated as big victories.

Today doctors decided to take Maeve off a bunch of medication. My six-month-old niece was hopped up on a bunch of meds after Friday's major setback and doctors wanted to bring the levels down to a more appropriate dosage. Apparently the only way to do that is to go cold turkey and then watch Maeve's reaction.

Today they took Maeve off a paralytic (which inhibits her body movement - duh), a sedative and a painkiller. They also took her off the super serious Epinephrine, an adrenaline type drug that helps to regulate her heart rate.

Well, today Maeve had a good day - in that she handled the loss of medication well and didn't suffer any setbacks.

Make no mistake about it, there was no monumental improvement today, but this small display of stability further substantiates the amount of fight in this tiny, 13 Lb. baby.

Doctors will keep an eye on her heart rate and a bunch of other signs to determine how much pain medication etc. she needs.

God, this little girl has the strength of a lion.

No News Is Good News

Maeve is still in critical condition and her circumstances have not changed since doctors took her off the heart bypass machine yesterday.

Brigid sent me an email letting know Maeve is still actually on life support and has been almost the whole time she has been in the hospital. Maeve was previously listed under stable condition but now is listed as critical.

My niece is still holding on to a lot of fluid and we hope she expels it quickly, allowing doctors to stitch her chest up for a third time.

As I said in my post Friday, Brigid and Steve are trying to stay positive through this whole painful ordeal and are asking the same from their family and friends.

Maeve still has quite a way to go to get to the level of progress she had made prior to Friday's devastating setback but we are quite confident she will grow stronger and healthier in her own time.

Thank you to all of you who have offered many prayers, kind words and messages of support through this painful time. Please keep those prayers coming!

Much love and gratitude,
Katy

The Prayers Are Working!

I just got off the phone with Brigid and Steve.

They have taken Maeve off the bypass machine!

They say doctors are amazed that Maeve is ready to rely on her own heart beat. Everyone at the Sibley Heart Center in Atlanta is astonished!

We are still not out of the woods.

They had to perform surgery on Maeve today to determine whether anything needed a suture and I guess they decided everything looks okay. Maeve's chest is still open and she only has one nurse attending to her now (as opposed to the three dedicated to her last night).

Brig says basically they're back to where they were a week and a half ago - which is far more hopeful than last night.

Please keep praying because that little girl is responding!

Please Pray For Maeve

My niece, Maeve, went into cardiac arrest around 4:30 this morning and had to be resuscitated.

This, after she had open-heart surgery two weeks ago at one of the best pediatric cardiology facilities in the world.

A bypass machine is now performing the functions for Maeve's heart and she is losing quite a bit of blood because of her problems with clotting.

Surgeons tell my sister, Brigid, they don't know what else they can do.

They are trying to determine whether a heart transplant is a viable option, though these doctors have never performed a transplant on a patient with Noonan Syndrome. The doctors want to assess whether Maeve could even survive something like that.

They have evaluated all of Maeve's data and don't know what precipitated the cardiac arrest in the first place. Doctors stitched her up Sunday and despite some concerns Monday, she had continued to improve.

Monday endocrinologists visited with Brigid and told her Maeve may have problems with her thyroid or pituitary glands, and that the circumstances could hinder brain development. Maeve's brain was also a concern today but doctors put some ice on her head and she reacted appropriately so they know her brain is functioning well.

Brigid says she has seen Maeve's body move a bit here and there so she concurs with the belief Maeve's brain is fine.

Our parents are in Atlanta. I am staying in Cincinnati and waiting for word on whether I need to make a trip down south. If so, I will stay in town and wait until our youngest sister, Mickie, arrives from Ohio University and then we will make the trip down together.

I don't want to have to make that trip.

Please say a prayer for Maeve. Please have your family and friends pray for Maeve.

To me, she is the most precious thing in this world. Maeve has the softest skin I've ever touched and the biggest blue eyes I've ever seen on a child. She has cheeks that look like big pillows and her onesies and shirts cover up a massive tummy. Her legs and arms are chubby and her mouth is shaped like a perfect, puffy bow.

Maeve is smart - she smiles when you make silly faces or sounds and her eyes stay fixed on her mama when Brigid is buzzing around. Maeve is so, so happy - especially when she's not eating (she struggles with massive acid reflux).

Maeve has Noonan Syndrome, which typically involves several different congenital heart defects. Maeve's heart is especially complicated, meaning doctors face special challenges while trying to fix her.

My niece comes from a long line of feisty women, and I know she has that fight in her, too. I have plenty of pictures that show a determined, strong baby girl in action.

That spirit is serving her well - in my 31 years of life I've never met anyone else who has faced the kind of challenges Maeve has experienced, and tomorrow only marks her six month birthday.

Please keep my niece in your prayers - this situation needs all the faith, prayer and hope it can get.

Much love,
Katy

Dark Side Of The Moon

Dorothy had a Yellow Brick Road to take her to Oz.

But before she made it to the Emerald City, she survived a tornado, she found the bravery to make such a daunting journey, and she found three great partners to show her the way.

I always respected Dorothy, and I can definitely identify with some of the challenges she faced because my path to Local 12 came with its own frightening and unexpected developments.

I spent six years at the ABC affiliate in Lexington, Kentucky before making my way to Cincinnati. I went from Tape Editor (bottom rung) to 6 pm producer (closer-to-the-top-rung) in that time span - and the experience really changed me.

It turned me into an egotistical, hard-swearing, grand stranding Know-It-All. I was aggressive, defensive and proud. My vernacular was of the four-lettered variety and I drank hard as an outlet to let go of all the stress and responsibility.

I'll own up to the actions of my past, but I can't help but think I was a product of my environment.

In those same six years, our newsroom weathered:

• Three General Managers
• Four News Directors
• Three Executive Producers
• Five main-anchor-team combinations

We were the last-place station in a one-horse town (okay, Lexington has a couple more horses than that), and it didn't appear that anything was going to let up at any time. The CBS affiliate was #1 and cornered the market on the old people and down home crowds. The NBC affiliate was #2 and quickly growing by strategically aiming for the college-aged and young professional demographics.

Us?

We heavily campaigned an On Your Side brand that helped foster viewership in every trailer park from Paintsville to Pikeville.

Employees began taking management suggestions with skepticism. For all we knew, we were dealing with the flavor of the month, so we had a hard time taking stock in the demands of the moment.

Enter a general manager (to this day I think they should flood the PA system with the Imperial Death March whenever he walks through the halls of his place of employment) who had an utter disregard for humanity and a complete dedication to the eradication of man's spirit.

There's a long list of twisty events that unfolded during those days (one example: when was the last time your boss took an image of your company brand and set it on fire in a staff meeting, proceeding to fervently stomp on the logo as it smoldered in a trash can??) but it's all water under the bridge for the most part.

That's the tornado part of this story.

And that's when the company and I decided to part ways, putting me just two weeks away from the unemployment line.

Now, don't worry, because this tale has a happy ending. But for a good, long time I really thought I was going to have to survive on those unemployment checks and a piecemeal of a babysitting jobs I managed to string together.

And I guess that's when I had the bravery (and faith) to follow the journey of my destiny.

That's also when I ran into my own scarecrow/tin man/cowardly lion.

I was in a bar surprise, surprise when I came across an old friend whom I hadn't seen in a long time. Wilhelm and I previously never worked together - we had a mutual friend and plenty of good memories involving UK football games, dancing on coffee tables and a hilarious night of free cover at a local bar for 15 of our closest friends.

Anyway.

There I was, sipping on a cold pint on a Saturday night at McCarthy's in Lexington when I ran smack-dab into Wilhelm.

He asked me what I was up to and I told him, with a chuckle, uh, a week from unemployment.

And Wilhelm kindly offered up the nugget that his station in Cincinnati was looking for a Morning Show producer.

There is no other way to explain that coincidence than divine intervention. I truly believe God put Wilhelm and me in the same corner of the same bar in the same part of Downtown Lexington for a purpose. And to this day, you can say what you will about the man, I will always be grateful to Wilhelm for his kindness that evening.

So that was a Saturday night.

The assistant news director in Cincinnati called me the following Tuesday to talk down and dirty about a job. He asked me to come up and meet the news director that afternoon and discuss the possibility involving their opening.

I was so thankful for that meeting - I had passed up an opening at this same station two years earlier and didn't want to make the same mistake.

One thing led to another and basically I found myself blogging about unemployment one day and blogging about a new job three days later.

I guess Dorothy had the Yellow Brick Road to take her to Oz. I had Interstate 75 to take me to Cincinnati.

The journey is full of an amazing series of events that led to a magical destination, but I must admit I sometimes think the lessons learned in the end are far more important than the bumps along the way.

1) There is no place like home. I wasn't born in Cincinnati, but I spent my childhood in this town and can't help but appreciate being in an environment that I've known since I was six years old. I had no idea at the time how personally enriching a trip back home would be for me. I can't begin to express my gratitude for an opportunity to work in a town that I am more than a bit sentimental about.

2) (and this is the important one) I always had the power to come home. Glenda tells Dorothy that only she had the power to go home, she just had to look inside herself and discover her heart's desire. I found the answers to all my problems inside my own heart, and all those answers were telling me I could survive and thrive in this new opportunity north of the Mason-Dixon line.

Thrive? I'd like to think so.

At least I can say I don't face that egotistical, hard swearing, hard drinking chick when I look in the mirror these days.

I'm far more happier than I was back in the day, and I can't help but think it's because this journey to Cincinnati changed me - immensely.

No place like home, indeed.

Holding Tight

I didn't mean to listen to the conversation.

The television was blaring in the background as I surfed the internet and read a few newspapers online when I heard a woman heralding the virtues of her hometown area code.

Marin (I am only vaguely familiar with Anne Heche's character) trotted off to Alaska to share her wealth of relationship advice (the character, not the actress, obviously), taking with her a New York City cell phone and an intangible connection to the Big City.

I don't normally draw parallels between my life and that of a character played by a woman who once called herself Celestia - I really don't think she'll ever live that down - but I couldn't help but identify with the city slicker.

I moved back to Cincinnati over three years ago, taking with me the vestiges of my time in Lexington. One of those small traces of the past involves my own area code.

The phone number is ingrained in my mind, and I have no plans to give it up any time soon.

In fact, I dream about the days when I am an old woman who will wear purple, answering her 859 cellie.

There's something about the area code of my home-away-from-home, the place where I did quite a bit of growing up and yet celebrated some of the best (most hedonistic) times of my life.

And let's not forget: the same year I graduated college Central and Northern Kentucky changed the area code from 606 to 859 as a way to honor my alma mater.

People in Cincinnati ask me all the time about when I'm changing my area code, I guess it's in part because they have to pay long distance fees if they call me from a land line.

But I'm not giving it up.

I Make My Living Off The Evening News (At Least For Two More Days)

Every girl has her own brush with gossip in grade school.

Some girls are the ones who spin - the loudmouths who disseminate the news of 7th Grade. You know: who's kissing who, who's failing which class. Who's suspended and why.

Other girls are the subjects of the spinning - the victims of sometimes falsified, sensational information. Those little nuggets of knowledge sometimes get stretched and trumped up for the sake of selling a good story, leading crowds of pimply, brace-faced teens to crucify an unsuspecting (and sometimes innocent) victim.

I had my own encounter with idle gossip in junior high, and it firmly planted in me a desire to work in broadcast news.

After that painful encounter, I wanted to be a purveyor of news- I wanted to be a source of credible, accurate information that was important and relevant to others.

I wanted to tell stories that mattered - because they were the truth.

18 years later, I still feel my heart racing after receiving word of a good story.

I literally jumped up out of my seat and cranked up the volume on my old antenna TV set Sunday evening. One of our anchors broke in to a heated March Madness game to report the discovery of the remains of Staff Sergeant Matt Maupin, a Tri-State soldier who had been missing in Iraq for almost four years. My jaw dropped at the shocking development that many wondered would ever happen.

Monday night the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up after catching wind that a beloved legend at my alma mater had passed away - just streets away from my newsroom. Other folks in the newsroom failed to immediately grasp the importance of Bill Keightley - but I knew the Big Blue Nation on the other side of the Ohio River would collectively weep over the loss of such a monumental figure.

This morning my eyes fixed on the television to learn a young man had admitted to killing his parents in their Northern Kentucky home more than four months ago. It was a mystery that previously police had no answers for, a suspicious crime that bewildered neighbors at the local barber shop and lunch counter.

My heart still races when I'm the first to hear a hot news tip.

It's not always good news in the sense the stories are sometimes unhappy, sometimes gory and sometimes emotionally dramatic.

The local news business is a glorified form of gossip - we look for opportunities to spread credible, accurate information that people care about. We ask ourselves, "What are people talking about?"

We dig for sensational stories that will suck viewers in after Master Control rolls the show open.

I'm going to miss that aspect of the business, and that makes me feel a little dirty inside.

The First Post Of The Month

Okay... so it's actually the second post of the month, but who's really counting?

I decided to jump the gun and reveal more about my new job.

Click here for more information.

In other news, the BBC says the millions of web surfers are using the internet to influence pop culture.

Cheers,
KtG

A Dad Left To His Devices

I looked at my statcounter today and was stunned by all the hits from the readers originating at TV Spy's Shop Talk.

Local news types: welcome to the chronicles of my life. Sometimes it's serious (especially lately) and sometimes it's silly.

Either way, it's all genuine and it's all mine.

I am currently the 4 pm producer at Local 12/WKRC-TV in Cincinnati. I've been in the business for about nine years - spending three years in the Queen City after a six year stretch in Lexington, KY.

My comings and goings are all chronicled in the archives - the good, the bad and the ugly.

This week actually marks my last in television news. I am taking a new job that I will blog more about after Friday.

Stay tuned.

In the meantime, here's a nice little video clip I enjoyed this afternoon. The warp-speed piece showcases the chore of feeding a fellow producer's child. The video was put together by my co-worker's husband, a SAHD.

Enjoy.