don’t let me watch tv, I get all girly and sensitive

I try not to watch tv.  I get sucked in and lose valuable time.  I get all lost in tear-jerking 2 hour episodes of House like I did tonight and end up feeling all sensitive and girly.

And then, once I get all freakin’ sensitive and girly, I have to start sharing things.  I must.  I can’t stop myself.  Crap.  Here I go, or I won’t be able to sleep…here comes the sharing, nice Kat and after 2 emotional hours of House, I have a lot to say: 

My birthday’s coming up (you must have been under a rock not to know that), and there’s a lot to think about, be grateful for, so very much on my mind.  I’m so excited about paintballing and dinner and karaoke for my birthday that I can hardly hold myself together.  I’m tickled pink not to have to throw my own party this year–thanks, T! 

I’m full of gratitude as this 35th birthday rolls around.  It’s been a tough year in a lot of ways, but I think I’ve picked myself up, dusted myself off and moved right along fairly well.  Dang that Chiquita for trying pretty hard to drop dead earlier this year and stressing me the hell out! Thank goodness she bounced back to eat apple fritters with me in TN and worry with me about poonanny maintenance!  And the V-man, glad you’re back in my life, though I hate that it took your illness to put you here, but I accept that sometimes that’s how life works–now and then, it takes the hardships to inspire us to reach out. 

The Bean and the Steinster moved away; while it bummed me out they had to move on down the road and I miss their jokes already, I’m so pleased they took the opportunities offered.  Miss Rosey, I’m glad that while it seemed like you were leaving, you got to stay after all; you’re a cool chickie.  Daisy, Daisy, Daisy, move that man into your house already; it’s killin’ me.  Annie Oakley, I’m so glad to walk and talk and harass Subway employees with you.  And speaking of lunch, that reminds me to get all grateful for Mr. Oddstar and the time we manage to find to split nachos with extra jalapenos and no tomato and talk about life; you know I’ll perform your wedding ceremony: I’m ordained! 

Mr. Dog and Uncle 420, thanks for always believing in the Kat Box and for helping me have this forum for the last, what, 8 years or so?  I’d be in a rubber room without it, and your offer to beat up those menfolk that have wronged me with baseball bats has always been such a comfort in my times of woe, thank you!!

Scoot gets mad props for building a good campfire and always letting me drink the majority of his beer without complaint; our younguns are gonna be hell on wheels together before we know it!  Ms. Morgan keeps me ever amused with her on-going sagas of love, keep ’em coming, along with your birthday celebrations laden with pumpkin cheesecake.  Baby Bro, I suppose that now that I’m just about 35 and you’re 33 that I might finally let you drive on our roadtrips——-nah, ask me again when you’re 35; bummer about CrueFest, but STP was crazy fun and so were all those roller coasters this summer!

I haven’t exactly made peace with the ex Mr. Kat 2.0 yet, but I have made some peace at long last with ex Mr. Kat 1.0 and that’s big progress over this time last year.  I saw 1.0 today and didn’t once yearn to punch him in the eye! That’s a huge change, so much can happen in a year.

This year we’ve had a bunch of potlucks and the absolute most hilarious food fight ever; I learned how hard it is to shake rice out of my ear and how pee in my pants funny it is to throw Jello in my unsuspecting friend Annie’s face.  Remember last year in September how I insisted on cake for my birthday potluck and had so much cake that I ate it for every meal for days and days!?! You were all so very, very good to me, showing me love with cake! Omg, it was so good to see my beloved Mr. Sutton for my last birthday, such a treat! I love those parties and camping trips and road trips and dinners; somehow I’ve become a social director on this cruise ship of life and I’m ok with that.

Spider John, come out and play with us.  Ricardo Allejandro of the High Mountains, I’ll perform your wedding ceremony, but I have questions about going commando under the kilt I know you’ll wear (what if it’s windy?!).  Vernie Sue & Ada Mae, ever so glad to still have you around–remember when we were just a bunch of goofy Warren Wilson freshmen (we’re still goofy)? NatureGal, you and your old man are such a good match; it’s so sweet and inspiring.  Sparky, what more can I tell you other than what you already know for sure? Thanks for making me smile a lot.  SGF, you are such an SGF and I’ll always be the NSGF (the color on my toes is Rocker Blues).  Don, send nosejob pix and thank you for turning me into a nut for cold sake.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m sure I missed a lot of folks in this lengthy drawn out rambling sensitive girly nonsense, but I have to stop now, I’m sorry! I’m getting sleepy finally, and I’ve worked most of the girly-osity out of my system at last.  So much has happened from turning 34 to getting ready to turn 35–thanks for all the adventures we’ve had, friends, and all the new adventures yet to come.  Thanks for the parts you play in the story that is my life, let’s see what happens in the next chapter!  Much love to all…g’nite!

2 more quotes

I’m a quote collecting junkie.  I think I like quotes so much because the words let me know that someone else has felt exactly what I feel; that notion is both comforting and inspiring to me.

“We cannot become what we need to be by remaining what we are.”
— Max DePree

“Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.”
— Carl Bard

Raise a glass to brand new happy endings!

Further poonanny thoughts…

If you use your poonanny too much, it will fall out–Chiquita and I decided that earlier this week.  After much thought on my behalf, I also determined that if you don’t use it at all, it will dry up, turn to dust and blow away.  “Oh wow, it’s been a really bad pollen season, look at the coating of dust on everything!”  Noooooooooooooooo, it’s been a really bad frigid bitch season; that’s the residue from dried up poonannies!

Use it or lose it, but don’t dare abuse it!

TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF ALREADY!!!!!!!

Over lunch with some anonymous awesome divas today, a conversation came up about body image.  I have a friend who will not be seen in a swimsuit at the beach or the pool, ever.  The conversation went even further into strange territory when it was stated that the preference was to even stay partially dressed (long tshirt, whatever) whilst in, ahem, intimate moments. 

This is not a gender specific issue, body image, so I wanted to get out here on my blog and talk to everyone about it.  Put on your freakin’ swimsuit and enjoy the ocean!  There will always be someone thinner than you, there will always be someone heavier than you, who the hell cares, go have fun!  And as for those intimate moments, ummm, you’ve gotten far enough with someone that clothing is optional and probably just in the way, so just remove it all!

I don’t care if I wear a swimsuit at the beach, geez.  The only peril to that is blinding innocent bystanders when the sunlight reflects off my whiter than white skin.  If I waited until I had some “perfect” body, whatever that is, I’d never freakin’ get to go swimming!  I don’t want to miss out on a thing, and why would you?  In fact, I have more than one swimsuit in case one’s wet and I wanna go swim again!  Why would you want to skip the trip to the lake or the pool party and miss out on fun with friends and family?  They really don’t give a snot what you look like in your swimwear, I promise; they just wanna goof off and spend time with you.  I can’t imagine missing out on playing “mermaid” with Minime in the pool or not wave jumping out in the ocean with because I was self-conscious about my butt in a swimsuit.

As for your special getting freaky moments, strip!  In a fit of far TMI, I will tell you that I HATEHATEHATE to get cold, so in the summer with the A/C blowing, I like a little coverup if it’s time to get down, but if we can get it warm in here, it’s a free for all of paleness and tangled limbs.  Why? Because this is it, folks, this is all there is.  Today is all we have, right this minute, so you gotta accept who you are inside and out today.  Sure, you can wish your abs were less sticky outy, but today, they are what they are…do some crunches and get your freak on!  I hate to think that people are skipping intimacy with their loves because they feel funny about whether their boobs are too small or their ass is too big or their stomach is too round or their elbows are too pointy or I don’t even know what else.  We’re all human, we come in different shapes and shades and sizes, and who you are today, right this second, is completely strip-worthy to the one you love that loves you, too.

It’s not a beauty pageant, it’s real life.  I work with a guy who has such a way with the ladies, but on the surface, he’s just an average fellow—no movie star looks, no bling. There’s never a shortage of women in his life.  It’s not about his looks or his physique, though, it’s about confidence in himself.  He believes he’s a hottie from Hottieville, he projects this with ease and grace, and thus he is.  Believe, people, believe! I know I can’t make you see what you don’t want to see in yourselves, but dang!  This life we get is too short to be thinking you’re anything less than Da Bomb!

Take your clothes off already…in broad daylight, even! (disclaimer: please strip only in the privacy of your own home and not, say, at Waffle House or the office)  All you have is today…enjoy the hell out of it!

it’s sunday & that means STP!

Stone Temple Pilots in Charlotte tonight!! Thank you Scott Weiland for not being in rehab or jail today!!

I’m psyched.  I’m driving baby bro down, and our seats are EXCELLENTLY excellent pre-sale seats.

It’s not time to go yet, but I’m kinda getting things organized.  It’s funny how differently I prepare to go see a show as compared to the olden days.  For example, I’ll go ahead and get some clothes out for work in the morning since I’ll be getting in kinda late tonight…back in the day, I would’ve instead been formulating reasons to call in sick tomorrow.  I would’ve selected my sturdiest badass footwear based on anticipated moshpit time, and now, I’m picking something that’s comfy to stand in for hours.  Of course, big venues like the one today won’t allow moshpits; they’ll throw you out because of the liability…oh but back in my youth, no one cared if we landed face first on the concrete or fell over chairs or whatever.

I’m excited!  When I bought the tickets, summer hadn’t even really kicked in yet, and the concert seemed a million years away, but it’s today!  I haven’t seen STP in about twelve years.  Last show I saw was when I was living in Virginia–wow, that was a long time ago, because I went with Minime’s dad, Mr. Kat 1.0, as one of the last things we ever did as a married couple.  Yeah, that’s been a lifetime ago…

I will not be wearing an STP shirt to the concert.  Scootster and I were discussing the dorkiness of wearing the band’s shirt to their show…it’s kind of a DUH! thing to do, because you’re obviously a fan or you wouldn’t be there in the first place.  Wearing their shirt is just overkill, trying too hard.  I do like concert shirts, though, but why the hell are they so damn pricey?  I’m not paying $40 for a tshirt, hell no…especially when I can get it off eBay for less some other day.

Happy Sunday, all!

Bacon

When you’re as important (and moody) as I am, it’s terrific to know that all I have to do is wish for things and there are people who want to make my dreams come true.

Why, just yesterday, I gently kindly wistfully wished aloud for some bacon for a late breakfast.  Or maybe I said I’m starving, why the hell hasn’t anyone around here brought me any freakin’ bacon yet?  I tend to believe I was delicate and sweet in my humble wish…and before I knew it, there was warm crispy bacon being delivered to my office.  I’ll point out that I don’t work in food service and there was no bacon in the building at the time of my request, I just wanted it and someone made it happen for me; this bacon was a special delivery.

If my being in print in Mountain Xpress and being on television this week wasn’t proof enough that the world revolves around me, the bacon, that’s all the proof I need.

fresh breath crisis?

I was at Sam’s filling up the KatMobile for a road trip.  The guy on the other side of the pump was going through his Jeep at breakneck speed, looking for something, looking, looking…I heard a cuss word or two as he kept searching.

Finally, I hear a cleared throat and a “Hi, excuse me, do you have any gum?”

“Gum?” I ask, obviously perplexed, raising an eyebrow at Jeep Guy.  I’ve been approached for money, food and lots of other entertaining things while pumping gas, but this was a first.  “Is it a gum emergency?”

“Yes, it is,” he replied. “Is this your first time in a gum emergency?”

I said it was, and grabbed the minty fresh gum from the cup holder in my car.  I extended the whole pack, thinking he might need the whole thing to MacGyver together some sort of world-saving device, but no, he just took one piece and thanked me profusely before zooming away in his Jeep.

So now I’m left to wonder what sort of fresh breath crisis lends itself to asking a stranger at a gas pump for gum?  Hot date? Job interview?  Sipping vodka on your lunch break?  Sneaking out and eating a double Whopper then going home to your vegan wife who thinks you’re vegan, too?  I’m so curious!  At any rate, whoever you are, Jeep Guy, I hope all was well once your gum emergency was thwarted.

I Woke Up Needing Validation

I woke up very unlike myself.  I woke up needing praise, needing validation, needing an atta girl and there was none to be found.  I woke up needing to be told I’m the awesomest person in the world.  And at 5:30 AM, there was no one around to do that.

Sigh.

So I got on the treadmill and climbed hills for a few minutes, thinking a little accomplishment early in the day would be a great beginning.  I climbed til my ass hurt, but it didn’t do much for me.  I even soaked in a hot bubble bath post-treadmill, and a bubble bath usually fixes everything, but…no.

On the surface, all is well.  Underneath it all, I am unsettled.  Too many things are up in the air and I prefer to be in control, so I think maybe that’s where the nervousness and neediness come into play this morning.  As I sip my requisite Diet Coke, I’m trying to make a mental list of what I am in control of and what I know I’m doing well to see if I can bring myself back to more comfortable footing…

My birthday!

Sure, my birthday’s not until September 5, but let’s get a plan in place!

Saturday Sept 6, let’s go play paintball that morning.  And that night, let’s go eat copious amounts of food and rock out some serious karaoke—sake, anyone?!  Ooooo and there better be chocolate cake. 

What do I want for my birthday?? Hmmm.  I think I already have what I want most, but it’s in that rent-to-own stage that I blogged about recently– a little confirmation that things are on the right track would be good in time for my birthday, that everyone’s on the same page, that’s always good for the soul.  As for what your hard earned dollars can buy me because I know so many of you are so uncertain, well, bubble bath is an every day must, truffles dusted with cayenne pepper from the Chocolate Fetish and a bottle of something red: a shiraz, syrah or merlot—you can’t go wrong with those things, and using that list as guidance, well, I’m not as hard to please as people imagine.

Let’s start celebrating me now so we don’t pull a party muscle!

Cake hogging weasels

No one shared birthday cake with me!  You’re all a bunch of cake hogging weasels.  WEASELS!

But now that all these birthdays have finally passed, we can start planning MY birthday, oh yes we can!  Cake! Karaoke! Paintball! (Don’t shoot my cake!)  September 5 is the official date, but please be advised that I will start accepting cake, presents and general adoration from this point forward and that it is completely acceptable to celebrate me every single day.