Friday, July 31, 2009

six word saturday

So here goes. My life in six words:

won't make memories with anybody else
This is my decision based on the fact that all the memories I made with others (let's face it, I'm just talking about men here) are just too hard to forget. I don't want to go through that again. Call it the easy way out. I don't care. It sure does hurt less...

odds and ends

Here I am, 9:24 pm central, on a Friday night... at work! I know, it stinks. I should really be at a "Welcome Home" party for my friend's husband, who just returned from 6 months of officer training with the reserves. But NO-O-O-O-O-O, I am at work. And worse, because I volunteered!

Yeah, that was about 10 days ago. I knew the party was at the end of July, but honestly, I didn't think July was already over! I can't believe it flew by so quickly. Also, I thought the shindig was on Saturday, not Friday. Oh well. You can't win 'em all and you can't go to every party. At least I'm getting overtime.

That brings me to tomorrow. Because of circumstances beyond the control of the company, there was a lot of lost time this week. The whole first shift was sent home for half the day and now, to make up for it, we need to work Saturday. So since I'm filling in for Chris, who is on vacation today, I have to be here tomorrow, too! Oh well, like I said (more like tried to reassure myself), I'll be getting some overtime pay.

But the story doesn't end there. This second shift thing brought me more pain than I thought it would. See, I was running late to get here tonight (insert sarcastic "That never happens!" here) and going 65 in a 55. Then I saw him. The policia. He did a U-ie and flipped on the bubble gums (my dad always says that) as I tried frantically to slow down. Then I pulled over.

"Dangit Katie, you can't afford another ticket!" I thought as I hiked my top down a little in an attempt to "show a little skin." The officer came. He asked me where I was going. He asked me if I was late. He took my liscense and insurance card. He went to the police car. He came back.

I waited, barely breathing.

Then he said, "Let's make a deal. You don't speed anymore, and I won't pull you over any more."

I quickly agreed to this wonderful deal (I heard a small voice in the back of my mind say, "Not speed again? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! SURE!") But I ignored that voice. I'm so glad I didn't get another ticket. I just got one two weeks ago. I'm sure it's fate, since I have been bragging about my constant speeding and how I never get picked up and how I haven't had a ticket since 2004... The speeding gods seek revenge.

Well, believe it or not, I do actually have some work to do, so I think I'll get to that now. I hope everybody is having fun out there in Friday-land...

Thursday, July 30, 2009

free confession friday

I have a confession to make. It's a free confession. You can't judge me for it. I swear, it's in the rules somewhere. No, I haven't murdered anybody or cheated with somebody's husband. It's not that kind of a confession. It's more just a confession about my quirks. Probably things you already know anyway, if you know me. If you don't, then I'm just filling you in. I'll paint you a picture... of me!

So here it is... drumroll please! I hate weddings. That's right. I hate weddings!!!

There, I said it.

And now comes the inevitable question: "Why?"

And the inevitable answer: "Do you want a list?."
Ok, so that's not really an answer. It's really another question. Actually, it has a lot to do with making a huge (very, very expensive) fuss over one stinkin' day of a couples' life and not focusing on the whole committment. Granted, some weddings are good for that, but mostly they are a girl living her fairy tale. I don't have a fairy tale. Well, not regarding the wedding, at least.

My fairy tale has more to do with being loved and having children. And honestly, I'm barely holding on to that dream anymore either. It seems like all my dreams are just that: dreams. I mean, every plan that I envisioned for my life has pretty much not turned out to be true. I know, God's timing, not your's etc. but I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't at least slightly disappointed.

Oh well. I'm getting used to being alone. I hope I don't have to make a life out of it, but if I do, then I guess, so be it!

I'll be happy as long as I can always find a family somwhere who will let me watch movies with them and occasionaly invite me over for food. Oh, it helps if they have kids I can kiss, too. I just love those fat cachetes!

Anyway, back to the wedding thing. I think another reason that I hate them is my huge aversion to spending large sums of money on something that doesn't last. I would much rather spend money on an amazing honeymoon (I know, not lasting, but much more fun that ceremonially putting men--and the occasional woman like me--through an agonizing hour of blissfully wedded torture.) than a day-long ceremony. I do, however, want to have a big party (preferably a cook-out. I LOVE grilled meat!) and I'll invite everybody.

Also, weddings are boring. Especially if they include a Baptist pastor or a full mass. (Sorry Baptists and Catholics. I am even Baptist, and I know how you like to get preachin' at any and every event possible. Mostly it's ok--weddings and graduations are the exception.)

Oh, and btw I'd like a destination wedding on some beach in Mexico, so start saving your pennies now if you want to come! You're totally invited. And since I'm not really headed toward the altar, let's just set a date for a cruise. How about January of 2012? Sounds good to me!

So yeah, there's my confession. I'm not your average girl. Again, if you know me personally, you already know that. If you're just tuning in to my blog, then feel free to scratch your head in bewilderment. That is, as long as you're willing to return for more!

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

runner? er, ahem, runner. hungry runner!

I just went running. I used to run when I was a boxer, and I never liked it. I still don't like it. I have a total love-hate relationship with running... I'm pretty good at it, but I hate running. Ok, well maybe hate is a little strong, but I am certainly not a big fan. I am proud to say, that after not running even once since last year, I was still able to go 1.2 miles without stopping. It may have taken me about 15 minutes, but whatever.

Lately I have been hungry a lot. That has nothing to do with running, but as I am writing, I can't think of anything but eating. I'm trying to write about excersize, and all I can think of is food! Maybe I should make something to eat...

My appetite is as moody as any PMSy woman. Some weeks I hardly eat. There have been days when I don't put some food into my body for the first time until 3pm. Other weeks I eat without end. Some days I can eat 5 full meals within 18 hours! Not to mention the cravings. If I ever get pregnant, I'm going to be out of control. When I had my nose remade (boxing is great for the ol' honker! If you want to look like a porcelain doll that's fallen on her face.) I ate all sorts of awful things. First, let me say that I couldn't taste a blessed thing! Second, I only craved textures and not flavors. This led me to heat up potato salad (probably not a good idea, with the mayo, and all), melt cheese on top of canned peaches, and all sorts of other weirdness. I can only hope I will someday have a very patient husband (if it is that I ever have a husband. I've kind of given up on that one).

Well, this is definately a boring post. Like I said, the other day I had tons of things to write about... while I was at work. Now I can't remember any of them. Oh well, hopefully something interesting will soon happen to me. And by interesting, I mean like funny or exciting, not tragic or awful.

Monday, July 27, 2009

totally awkward tuesday

I can't believe it's Tuesday already! I'm not ready for TAT (said in my whiniest voice). It's not that I don't have any more awkward situationis to write about. It's just that I wanted to blog about other things this week, and I haven't even gotten to them. Also, when I was totally inspiried to write today, I was working and had no time. Now that I have time, I can't think of any of the things I wanted to write about... But alas, I still have tons of awkward life moments to recount.

This time I'm going way, waaaaay back. This is actually my first memory. I thought I must've been a couple of years old, at least, but my mom says that I was less than two. It was around Easter. We were grocery shopping at the Miracle Mile shopping center. I think it was just my mom and I, but I'm not quite sure. I only remember the two of us... and a stranger. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I was looking at the Easter egg dying kits when Mom said "Come on, Katie." But I was busy. You know, at that particular moment in my life, egg painting with Dudley was far more interesting than finding a good price on frozen corn. I stayed there, my little feet planted in front of the display. When I finally decided it was my time to move on, I turned to join my mom.

She wasn't there. I looked to the left. I looked to the right. I didn't see her. I turned the corner of the aisle and then relief--there stood the lady I was looking for. I ran up to her and latched on to her leg. I was so relieved to have found my mom... or so I thought. Something was wrong. I looked up, and to my horror I was holding on to some other lady's leg. Her jeans looked surprisingly a lot like my mom's! I was so embarrassed I immediately started to cry. I distinctly remember that I cried out of embarrassment, not fear.

Instantly Mom was at my side, scooping me up and away from the strange woman. I do remember her being a nice lady and acting sympathetically toward me. It didn't matter, though. The experience was traumatic enough to etch itself forever on my memory.

Check out Tova's and other awkward stories at Secret Life of Tova Darling.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

six word saturday

So here are my six words for the day:

I'm gonna eat some fair food!

I'm takin' a shower, then I'm heading over to the Crazy Days festival for some good ol' fair food! Mini doughnuts and cheese curds, here I come!

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

totally awkward tuesday

Once again I participate in Totally Awkward Tuesday, the brainchild of Tova, from Secret Life of Tova Darling.

For this awkward moment, I will go back to my college days. It was my sophomore year, and I was working my booty off with two jobs to try to pay tuition. One of my jobs was on the "Campus Environment Team" aka work-study campus cleaners. I had signed up to clean the library. (Did I mention creepy, 100 year old library with gigantuous windows and stacks of books from floor to ceiling?) Usually I cleaned for about an hour a day, from 9 to 10. I don't know when I did homework. I think it was from 7:45 when I got back from Job #1 to 9:00 when I started cleaning. Oh well, that is beside the point.

So anyway, the security staff insisted on taking the young ladies to and from the buildings they cleaned and the dorms (when it was after hours, of course.) I would usually call them when I was done cleaning, so they could come get me, but sometimes they would come early, and having had keys to all the buildings, they would let themselves in and find creative ways to scare the snot out of me.

On one particular occasion, there had been a huge problem with the plumbing backing up in the basement restrooms. Let's just say that a lot of sewage water found its way up through the floor drains and into parts of the bathroom where there should never be sewage water. Maintenance had gotten the problem fixed and the biggest pieces cleaned up (cringe). I then spent the next hours literally scrubbing poo off every lower surface of both women's and men's bathrooms.

Needless to say I wasn't in and out of there in a mere hour. Security started to wonder. I gave them a call around midnight, stating that I was not yet done, but would be sure to call them when I finished. Adam, the gaurd, said ok. He'd be waiting for my call.

And... back to work. Now there is nothing like putting some real elbow grease into scrubbing doody off the men's b-room floor to make a girl get a little roasty-toasty. Actually, I was dying of heat exhaust! Well, maybe not dying, but at least moderatly suffering. I rolled up the ankles of my sweats and hiked the bottom of my shirt up. In order to keep it from sliding back down again, I pulled the bottom of the shirt up through the collar and tucked it in, exposing almost all of my neon green sports bra. My crop top was complete.

At about ten to one, I was just finishing up. I grabbed my mop and wheeled the bucked of water toward the door of the men's room (mind you, I was in the men's bathroom, after hours in the creepiest old library ever). Just as I reached out my hand to push open the door, it swung open! There stood Adam. I did a gasp/triple take/heart flutter/omigoshi'mpracticallynaked/whatareyoudoinghere,i'mgoingtokillyou and the door swung shut. Adam had just stood there with an equally shocked (I'm sure for other reasons) expression on his face.

I fixed my shirt. I'm not quite sure on all the details of the awkwardness that ensued. I only remember that Adam appologized profusely and I railed on him for not waiting for me to call and for trying (successfully) to scare me spitless.

Now if this doesn't seem like a mortifying event to you, it's only because you didn't go to one of the strictest Bible colleges in the midwest. If you had, you would have known that girls don't show almost their midriff, let alone almost their entire neon green sports bra to just about anyone! Especially one of their floor-mate's fiances! Not much was ever said about the incident, and I'm not sure if I ever mentioned to Mel that her future hubby had seen more of me than he had of her (at the time). Let's just say I was glad that Adam had four sisters!

Friday, July 17, 2009

blogging award

I just got my first blogging award, "Honest Scrap," and I'm uber excited (uber is one of my favorite new words to use). There are certain rules that go along with receiving a blogger award. Unfortunately, I don't follow enough blogs! Everybody I watch already has this award. But I promise, I will follow more blogs and find 10 people (or something near that number) to which I will award this prestigious honor.

Honestly, I am super excited about my first blogging award. I have already exclaimed to Athletic Roomie at least 4 times the wonder of my first award!

I am also completely amazed that "laneyandjackson" is following my blog! Thanks for joining up! I'm so glad you're reading my self-published column! Well, it is time that I officially stop using exclamation points and do something productive, like sleep.

Thanks again Raine. I'm so happy to join the coolness club!

Thursday, July 16, 2009

confessions, baby aisle, broken hearts and undapants

So I have a confession to make... I am terrified of the baby care aisle at department stores. I should seek counseling, I know, but that's expensive. This is my counseling (and it's far cheaper than the real deal).

Anyway, there are deep reasons causing my baby aisle terror. That whole theme is a subject for another post (or maybe never :). Anyway, I guess it's enough to say that I'm twenty-stinkin'-five with no baby, no husband, no boyfriend and no prospects. (Hence all the time blogging.) And it probably sounds dumb, but I really want a baby. There's something in my biology that calls out to have one. May just have something to do with my age... Or it could have something to do with my ex-whatever-he-was getting his other ex prego less than 2 weeks after we broke up. (I know, I know... dodged a bullet!) I guess there's something in me that wanted that baby. She's seven months old now and I just saw pictures of her today and she's adorable and... there's really nothing more to say.

So yeah, that's all I want to say about that situation... ever. Ok, well, maybe not ever, but for now...

But onto the real topic of this post: me--having to go in the baby aisle without having a panic attack. You see, my brother and sister-in-law are going to have a baby in September. I'm going to be an aunty for the first time and I'm stinkin' excited!!! But that still doesn't make visits to the baby aisle any easier...

I went in... I perused. I breathed into a paper bag. I picked up cute little things. I got outa' there!

I survived.

I can shop in the baby aisle without having an anxiety attack.

That deserved to be rewarded, so I went over to the chica's cuteness aisle (aka undergarments and sleepwear) and looked at the bras, the undapants (saying undapants is 40% funnier than saying underwear), the jammies... everything. It's one of my coping mechanisms--buying undapants. After a long, stressful day at work or a difficult shop in the baby aisle nothing makes me feel better than buying myself some cutie-patutie undies! (Well, buying some darling shoes would, but that's out of my budget.)

I grabbed an adorable pack of Hanes hipster boycut undies in perfect brown and pink. I had to have them! They were $8.49. That is, btw, way out of my price range, especially for undies! I carried them around with me as I tried to convince myself that I could survive baby shopping without wasting almost ten bucks on two tiny garments that nobody will ever see. I must have walked around the cuteness aisle for about 20 minutes deciding that I didn't really need them. Then something amazing happened. I spotted them. The same cut, not perfect brown and pink, but still, the perfect undie. It was less than $2. I peeled the cutie-patutie package out of my hand, reluctantly placed it on the nearest rack, and ran. I managed to spend less than five dollars on self-medicating and it doesn't even come with a bad aftertaste or a headache tomorrow.

SO... for all of you who don't know me personally, laugh at my ridiculousness. For those of you who do know me, pretend you never read this! It was a free confession! Pretend you are a priest and you have taken an oath to not judge me for my crazy weirdness.

Monday, July 13, 2009

totally awkward tuesday

Another Totally Awkward Tuesday brought to you by none other than Tova Darling of Secret Life of Tova Darling.

Well, there is no better ingredient for an awkward situation than language learning. Any number of embarrassing incidents can be immediately created by mispronunciation of a new language. Here are some of my chart-toppers from my first months in Peru.

¿Mi cama es tu cama?
So I constantly feared that I would mix up the word cama, bed, with the word casa, house. Well, it turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy when one night, after youth group, I was walking home with my friends... from church! I turned to one of the guys and asked him if he was coming to my house... but instead of saying the Spanish word for house, I said cama. I, the missionary girl, asked a nice church going teenager if he was coming to my bed! We both died laughing, because I immediately recognized my mistake. I made him swear that he would not tell anybody what I had said. He kept that promise... for a while. When I went back in January to visit, he made sure to recount it for me and all of our friends. Good times and great memories... Thanks Ruben!

Don't bite your nails!
It must have been my second or third week with the host family in Lima. One afternoon at lunch there was a big bowl of grapes on the table. I asked if they would please pass the uñas. I thought that was the word for grapes, but as it turns out, that word means fingernails. You can be sure, though, that I never forgot the word for grapes: uvas!

Tornado support group
Another time I was with my friends who were siblings. A set of male (and also very good looking) twins one year younger than me and their sister who is my age. We were talking about the weather in the United States, and in particular, my state in the midwest. They asked if there were tornados here and I told them that there were. Having never experienced a tornado, they asked if it was scary and what we would do in case of a tornado.

I told them "It wasn't too scary, you just have to go down to the basement, sosten."

Hmmmm... something just didn't seem right about that word. Then I knew it was wrong by the twins awkward silence and Vlady's laughing.

"Sótano", she corrected.

I had said the word for "bra." Apparently all you have to do is hide in your bra to sit out a tornado. Sorry boys, I guess you're out of luck!

Do you have any language learning blunders? Heck, any blunder will to for Totally Awkward Tuesday. Comment and tell me about it, or post the story to your blog and link up to it on Tova's page. Happy Tuesday!

Saturday, July 11, 2009

we've digressed

It seems as though we humans don't interact the way we used to. This generation is different--this technilogical era. And I'm not saying that technology is bad. Heck, I love it just as much as the next person, maybe even more! But I guess it seems like the balance is gone.

For instance, I feel like my roommates and I practice "parallel play" which is what infants do when they "play" together. They really do not play together as much as they play along side one another. They sit there in the same room, side by side, with separate toys doing separate things. My roomies sit together in the same room, side by side, with separate laptops surfing separate webpages...

We've returned to infancy.

Maybe that's the reason we're still all single.

And really, I'm not sure I actually remember how to get together with people and do human things. I think I almost prefer this "psuedo-relationship" found on the wonderful web of awesomeness (aka world wide web). Maybe it's less of a risk. It's hard enough opening yourself to scrutinization on the internet let alone having to face it from real, live, face-to-face people.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not socially awkward (unless it's a ridiculously stunning guapo man) or plagued by anxiety attacks or anything like that. It's just a lot harder to schedule thigns and get together with people and everything than it is to plop down in front of my computer and live my life out through the shiny glamour of cyber-space.

But enough! I'm tired of psuedo-life. I want to do something real. That's why I'm so excited about going back to school (I can't believe I just said that). But of course, on the other hand, there definately is something to be said for some me-time after spending the entire work-week giving of myself and helping people with endless, countless problems/needs (that's what happens when you are an administrative assistant in human resources at a large factory).

So tell me what you think... Do you ever feel like you are spending your life in "parallel play" mode? Has technology taken away from our ability to interact on a physical, human level? COMMENT!!! or else!!!! buwahahahahaha...

six word saturday

I saw this neat little feature over on Show My Face, a blog I found last night. What you're supposed to do is describe your life, or something of that nature, in six words. Now I'm going to give 'er a try... Here goes:

Single people can't have real meals.

I had to write that because I am sitting here eating cheesy broccoli--and that's it. I would like to eat it how you're supposed to eat it, you know, as a side dish. But that would be too much, then I would have to put the leftovers the fridge, and it would inevetibly go to waste. So almost all of the meals I cook for myself are really only part of a meal. The whole meal would be too much... Oh well, I guess that's why they made restaurants, tv dinners, and freezable containers!

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

to have you

I can't have you.
I can't not have you.
I can't unhave you.
I wish I could have you unhave me.

To have you hurt.
To not have you hurt more.
To have to see you kills.
To have to leave sets me free.

I have to get away.

Monday, July 6, 2009

totally awkward tuesday

So I thought I would write about an awkward situation that happened recently. First, let me give you a little background.

There is this man at work. We'll call him José. Let me preface this by saying that José is gorgeous. He's also off the market--married, kids, grandkid--but still gorgeous. He's only like 29 (yeah, I know, world's youngest grandpa), so it's not like he's an old guy. Anyway, he had an accident at home a couple of weeks ago and ended up breaking his wrist. He has a nice black cast on that baby and I like to tease him about its debilitating effects.

Well, have you ever tried to tie your shoes or button your pants with a cast on? I have and it's not very easy! Apparently it's not easy to unbotton things either, and that's where the awkwardness comes into play. I was helping Summer Intern learn something (my memory of other surround events was instantly erased) when José came up to us, spun his butt cheek toward me, and asked me if I could unbutton his pocket. I was about to laugh out loud and ask him if he was for stinkin' kidding me, but a glance at his face told me he was not joking. Now I know any one of my female coworkers would have taken complete advantage of this situation, as it was almost a complete invitation to grab his booty, but I resisted the temptation. (A booty grab would have been much more awkward!) I gingerly pinched the hem of his pocket, pulled it out and undid the button. He thanked me, stuck his radio in his pocket, turned and walked away.

Summer Intern and I immediately died laughing. She said she wasa jealous. I still don't know what to say. Definately the awkward situation of the week, if not month! Check out Tova's awkward situation on her blog, Secret Life of Tova Darling.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

snip, snip

I am holding a clump of hair in my hand right now. It came out of my head. It is my own fault; I cut my own hair. Well, better said, I trimmed my own hair. And no, I'm not talking about trimming the ends... I'm talking about buzzing all the hair off of my neck. I hate hair on my neck. Apparently my great-grandma hated it aswell and cut it all off of her neck, too. Anyway, it really makes me crazy. Which is, in fact, the reason why I buzzed it all off. I thought I had done a bang-up job cleaning up my neck as I buzzed away, as I stook in front of the medicine cabinet mirror in the bathroom with my mini mirror in hand. It seemed as though everything went well. Until...

I was fingering through my hair, which is up in a pony-tail and several long chunks of hair just slipped out... Apparently I didn't buzz so expertly. I haven't taken out the whole pony-tail. I'm afraid to. I already have a nice strip of 8-inch hair in my hand. I'm not sure I want to see if there's anymore. Darnit! Oh well, at least the hair's off my neck (and a little more than that, I guess)!

Let me know if you have ever cut your own hair. How did it turn out?

Thursday, July 2, 2009

open doors


"How will I afford all this?" I think.

Sometimes it's better when I don't count the cost, and just live life, checking the balance as I go along. Well, at least it seems that way...

I just made myself a budget. I thought that I should really start managing my money better, especially since I'm going to try to move. I will most definately need more money if I'm going to be studying at some school in New England. Nothing is cheap over there. Everything is cheap here, especially if you share an apartment with 5 other girls.

I just looked at my bank account. Not good. It seems that after I pay my rent, phone, utilities, and fill the endlessly gasoline gulping machine that is my car, I'll have meager pennies to live off of until two weeks from now. Again, payday seems to dissappear in the click of a mouse.


I'm not really sure what I'm going to do. I'm not really sure how to remedy this problem. If the money's not there, then it's not there. Maybe it's time for me to work my booty off for the summer.

And an idea just popped into my head.

Tonight I received a call from some random girl who is a friend of a girl who used to work summers at my company. She was just calling from blah, blah, blah, wondering if I wanted to blah, blah, blah, for some extra cash this summer. Naturally, I did not. Now I'm going to facebook said aquaintence and see what the deal was. Maybe I do want to blah, blah, blah this summer. Another job might be just the thing I need to get my mind off of my life for the coming months also. Of course, there's also monetary gain involved, and that's the most important thing...

Well, I guess I shouldn't say it's the most important thing. I mean, trusting that God will take care of me and lead me is more important. But like they say, "Have faith, but wear your seatbelt." In other words, do your part. God will provide, but not in a magical, Santa Claus sort of way. He gives you the ability to work for a reason.

Speaking of work (and changing the subject almost all together) while I was at work today, doing my usual administrative assistant/translator/interpreter gig, something came up that prompted me (because nobody else happened to be available at the time) to have to go personally inerpret for almost 3 hours. The experience merely cemented my desire to go back to school for interpretation/translation. I feel like today was an open door, in the sense that God uses "open doors" to lead or not lead us in certain directions. This was like an open door, welcome mat, and large sign with blinking, neon arrows. Soooooo... I'm walking over the threshold! We'll see what happens next. I'll keep you posted!

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

blank slate

Can't think of anything to say.
Everything still reminds me of him...
The rims on that truck, the old apartment,
The hospital, the drive into town,
Every baby girl.
Every time I pass the infant care aisle
I see your face; I see her face

I want to wipe the slate blank.
I want to forget you forever.
Like she said, it's gonna hurt when it heals too.

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