Ok. So you might have noticed, this really isn’t a garden. It’s more a play on words. Because, a. my name so conveniently rhymes with “Mary,” the girl from the popular nursery rhyme who possesses an apparent contrary nature and a noticeably green thumb, b. I like to plant and grow and play in the dirt, c. the overall site design just happened to be mostly earthy-looking when completed, mostly because I’m a native WestCoaster, a closet hippie, and, apparently, I possess a strong affinity for the color brown d. I’m a big dork (no closet necessary).

So, long story short, THIS is the text for the about page. And, being the about page, I am required herein to (at least pretend to) discuss the who, what and whyfor of this site. It is an unwritten webLOG rule. Those who break the rules are subject to stoning with particularly strong smelling spam. Or so I hear.

So, hello! I’m kerri (anne) ladish. That’s me on the left. And up above, too, doing my best rendition of Girl Who Prances Along The Seashore And Does Not Freeze To Death. (Mostly I just like that photo because it was taken during my first trip to Alabama, and because I look almost graceful in it, and graceful and I, we don’t typically co-exist. Did I mention how much I adore parenthetical asides?) (So ANYWAY) This is my site.

I started this online endeavor on Thursday, June 24th, two Junes ago, a la B to the logger, as a way of keeping myself consistently writing, and as an attempt to be even mildly entertaining and articulate on a semi-regular basis. The jury is still out on those initial intentions.

Since the genesis of this site, much has happened. Cross-city migration has occurred, twice, little sisters have been married, karaoke cherries have been popped, trips to Alabama have been wrought, Peet’s coffee has been correctly spelled, and correctly consumed, hair colors have changed (a few times), mysteries of the universe have been pondered.

Also, as of July 9th, I am engaged! To this handsome fellow. You can read the story here. It’s a pretty good story. You know, in my completely unbiased opinion.

As to the general specifics of me, I was born and raised in Washington State, and herein do again reside. For now. A few years back I trekked to Oregon for a stint at Willamette University, where I became quickly and fully convinced that I felt the need, the need to read (I told you. I am dorky. You thought I was kidding?), and that studying wasn’t nearly as much fun if it wasn’t taking place at 3 in the morning, post alcohol (or coffee, or shrimp scampi) consumption.

I graduated in June of 2005 from Eastern Washington University with an English Lit. Major, Sociology minor. I think in RealWorldSpeak that degree translates to I’m destined to be destitute for the rest of my life, writing prolific prose on the napkins I pick up from the tables I wait. On the contrary, and thankfully, since graduating I haven’t had any trouble finding myself perpetually employed. Unless you count those months I spent living in a van down by the river.

In the past year I have perused the non-profit sector of things, type of work including: grant-writing, web-site updating, development director assisting, serving, being really really ridiculously good looking.*

I love being barefoot, finding sand in my pockets, making lists, the Realist and Naturalist movements in American Literature, buying purses, laughing, frisbee with my little sis, being immersed in water, keeping my nose stuck in a book, graphic design, Priest Lake, rain on my head, singing in the car, playing (and listening to) the guitar. My family and support network make me happy, and make me feel incredibly blessed on a daily basis.

If I ruled the world you would be able to have at least two “selves,” one of which could be reading at all times, thus giving me time to read Moby Dick once a week. Also, water would refill itself in your glass, The Soup would be a required daily staple, and every person on the planet would be happy in their own skin.

I someday plan to visit London, own a dog named Atticus Finch, and remember how to speak French.

As far as the site itself is concerned, it wouldn’t exist without the talent, charm and (amazing, unending, relentless) patience of the handsome man you see pictured to the right. Resisting the urge to gush too freely, and too long-windedly, Chris is simply amazing at what he does. Actually, he’s amazing in general.

The design for this site started as a concept from a piece of wrapping paper I used to hide his birthday presents this year. End my sole contribution to the creation of the site itself. Unless of course you count my shrieking color schemes at him and denouncing design after design and font after font while rocking back and forth and mumbling incoherently about something to do with wrapping paper, as “contribution.”

Chris won’t ever take full credit for this design, but that’s mostly because he sort of loves me. He thinks I’m cute when I’m teetering back and forth in my chair, drooling and sputtering nonsense. I don’t hold that against him. He, and the ever-versatile Movable Type, do indeed deserve full credit for this site, and here and now said credit is hereby bestowed (I feel as if I need a crown and sceptre to finish this sentence), and praises are being sung (albeit off key).

Chris, thank you for putting up with the crazy, indecisive girl that I am. I would have kicked me in the face by now if I were you.

And thank YOU for putting up with the neverending nature of this About page. I promise I’ll shut up now. Actually, I promise I won’t. But isn’t that the point entirely? Feel free to poke around and play in the dirt with me. You’re welcome in my (non) garden anytime.

*Making playful reference to “Zoolander.” If you didn’t smirk, or have no idea what I’m talking about, PLEASE, I beg of you, rent and watch that movie. Or email me. I’ll mail you a copy. I’m helpful like that.