Cup of Coffee with Katie

There are few things left in this world that seem to unite humanity on some universal level…but I’d say the quest for Mr. (or Miss) Right is one of them. I'd say around age 5, we girls tend to dream of a handsome prince who will sweep us off our feet and make us feel like the Disney princess we long to be. For me, it was Belle. No question. (Correct me if I’m wrong but I’m pretty certain boys just think about cartoon characters and video game people for the majority of their childhood days. I think that's where the trouble begins.) As we get a little older, our criteria for Mr. Right continues to evolve: he morphs from a dashing prince into a gangly teenager who will take us to prom (and maybe even a movie?); in college it’s someone who will take us to dinner (OFF CAMPUS!) and maybe even brave a trip home to meet our family. The picture in our head continues to morph as we do…at least hopefully it does. If you’re still stuck in the Disney prince mode, time to move on. Reality

If you’ve been living on the East Coast this week, you’ve been sweltering along with me. The combination of high temperatures and oppressive humidity made for those “I think I’ll take multiple showers”-type days. Until of course you realize that the showers are futile so they soon turn into “Why even bother to shower”-days. Granted, if Al Roker turns out to be trustworthy, there seems to be some relief on the horizon (at least in my neck of the woods). But still this week had me craving one thing: ice cream. I had a fortunate childhood (for many reasons) but one is that although I grew up in a pretty small town, there was no shortage of ice cream shops. I can also tell you there were very few softball games, field hockey games, soccer games, and major springtime school events which weren’t followed by a big-group/team excursion to Big Star, Friendly’s, Sweet Creams, Gabel’s, Twirl Top, or one of another half-dozen mom-and-pop ice cream stands. (In fact we had one walking distance

I had planned to write a very informative post today. One full of websites to visit, products to try, and stores to consider. But then the week took a different turn and I decided that information could wait. Because as I sat down to write it, I realized there was something much heavier weighing on my mind…and my heart…and though that something can’t really be put into words, perhaps parts of it can. I should start out by saying I LOVE words. I voraciously devour them in books, I enjoy using them (sometimes excessively) in conversation, I enjoy writing them…and those who know me are well aware of my Spelling Bee past. You don’t get that without a deep affinity for words. However, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past few years, and again in the past few days, it’s that sometimes words fall short of what you need them to be. And then what? This week started off on a high-note: I was heading back to the hospital where I have spent more hours than I care to count or rem

I realize if you're really going to trust me to be your faithful companion on this allergy-free journey, you probably want to know a little bit more about me. So we'll start with 2 character traits which I'm sure anyone who knows me will readily attest are true: 1) I get absurdly excited about the littlest things in life. Not to say I don’t get absurdly excited about the big things too…but really why do we overlook the little joys in life?? (You know, last day of taking your antibiotic, last run before retiring a pair of running shoes,   first peppermint mocha of the holiday season…all things to be celebrated!) I don’t care that people often make fun of me for it…it’s who I am. And I think the world would be a much happier place if more people hopped aboard my celebration train.   In fact, I once had a plan to start my own line of greeting cards to celebrate obscure events so my friends and I spent much of the spring semester one year at Villanova compiling a list of o

I know these posts usually take a more humorous approach but you knew the inevitable serious post was on its way. Well here it is…because when all is said and done, adapting to a new way of life, whether food-related or otherwise, is hard. You can do your best to face every minute of every day with a smile, a joke, and an optimistic outlook. But the reality is, every once in a while, it gets to be too much…even for the most optimistic of the bunch. You get frustrated. You get angry. You get sad. You feel utterly and completely alone. Of course you do because one of those seemingly unfair realities of our finite human condition is that even the greatest support systems, family, friends, co-workers, etc., are inherently limited. If you’re jetting off on a plane somewhere, security is the limit for your entourage.   Even little kindergarteners on the first day of school can only bring Mom and Dad so far before they’re stopped and the obligatory tear-filled hugs begin (and yes, I’ve seen