Showin' off the KEKEKE purse

From a post over at Something Awful:

Well, I figure it's high time to show off the purse I-9 made for me a few months ago. I requested a kekeke purse and she came through for me.

^_^ <-- RIGHT ON MY PURSE, BUDDY!

Anyway, I-9 has quick turnaround, great products, and she's super-cool to work with. Here's my kekeke purse (and my teddy bear):



So now she's taking on a much larger project for me: A gadget-girl bag to hold my SideKick, Palm Pilot, iPod, digital camera and GBA ... along with compartments for the cords/chargers/etc. ... And room for the 3Ms: Makeup, Meds and Magazines. As soon as we get kicking on that project, I'll post more details.

Seriously, guys, I don't know why I didn't think of I-9 before when I was looking for a gadget-girl bag. I-9 is also named Kate, she's a kickin' seamstress, and she's a goon to boot! If you need somebody to churn out some geekgirl or geekboy gear, she's your go-to girl. Let me know, and I'll hook you two up.

Hello, random Belgian person!

Monstee complains about lurkers. Maybe I should too.

I'm trying really hard to avoid posting site stats all the time, but I'm just really proud. I kinda feel like Miss America. ::grins:: Why? Because I don't link to the blog from the front page of Kate's Ink, so people are finding me other ways.

In June, Kate's Ink had 6,970 unique visits loading 16,646 pages and 28,117 hits. And that doesn't count bot traffic or visitors who pulled 404s. If you count all the traffic, I've loaded 26,124 pages and 38,503 hits. June's traffic is double that in May; May's traffic is double that in March. At this rate, I'm going to have to bump up my hosting package, and I'm not even bitter.

Random factoids about my visitors:

• I get the most traffic (by a slight margin) on Monday.
• Highest hours of traffic (also by a slight margin) are 4 p.m. and 6 p.m.
• I have a lot of readers from Mexico ...
  • 37.4% of my readers are from the United States.
  • 33.1% are from Mexico.
  • 3.7% are from the E.U. ... 3.6% are from South Korea
  • 22.2% are from somewhere else!!!
• There's one person in Belgium who hits the site almost every day ... so Hi Random Person From Belgium! ::waves:: I'm Kate! Who are you?
• I get a helluva lot of referrals from Monstee's site. Thanks, Big Blue! ^_^
• 80% of users are on PCs and 9% on Macs.
• 32.2% of you use Firefox. 1% use Netscape. TAKE THAT, NUTSCRAPE.
  
• 1.2% of you browse me from Lotus Notes. O_o Um, okay, sure.
• Three people got here by Googling the phrase psychiatrist in Kentucky. His name is Tyler Jones. He rocks donkey butt, and he's a gamer-boy. Look him up.
• Other interesting search phrases that got people here (there were 202 ... these are just my three favorites):
  • "Eating expired pasta"
  • "What does it mean if a girl punches you a lot?"
  • "Hideous sandwich"

Okay, so I don't recall talking about hideous sandwiches, although I did eat expired pasta while Paul was out of town and I didn't die. Your mileage may vary. If you die, send me an e-mail so I can warn others.

Anyway, if I could do a cartwheel, I would. You guys rock. According to my statsbot, more of you have added me to your favorites list than I even thought read KI. And to the RSS crew: Hope I'm as good at aggregating as I am at aggravating. :)

Love and peace, boys and girls. <3

Florida hotel rooms for EVERYBODY!

I figured it was high time to book my hotel rooms for Jacksonville, since I'm leaving to see Carrie in four days. I was a little nervous about finding a room over the July 4th weekend, and I was fairly certain that if I did find a room, it'd be pretty darn expensive.

So, despite the snafu in March, I boogied on over to Priceline to look for a room. And I think I really lucked out. I booked two rooms at the 3-star Hilton Garden Inn for $40/night each. Not bad, considering the rack rate is $110 each.

This morning, while making the rounds through my e-mail, I came across the Priceline confirmation letter. What the hell? They'd booked me for SIX rooms instead of TWO. What the bleepedy-bleep am I supposed to do with six rooms?! My first thought: JAXLAN '05. But then I realized Paul probably wouldn't appreciate the $840 charge on his credit card. (He forgave the $150 in liquor for Matt and me ... and the $275 for Matt's interview clothes ... but $840 for six hotel rooms might send him over the top.)

I called up Priceline and wrangled my way through their annoying phone system. They force you to listen to everything they have to say, even if you know what option you're going to select. I finally get to a customer service rep (the overly exuberant Lisa), who said she was going to check on the extra rooms ... and promptly hung up on me. So I called back, wrangled my way through the phone system again (this time, jamming buttons on my phone in an attempt to block out the nasally voice of the damn phonebot chick), and ended up talking to Brandy (who, fortunately for her, was far less exuberant than Lisa).

Brandy put me on hold for, like, 20 minutes before coming back and admitting the error was on Priceline's end. (Really? No shit. I'd been saying that over and over since the time I started talking to a real human.) So -- as far as I know -- we're back down to two rooms at the Hilton. We should get a $560 credit to our credit card within the next five to 10 days.

However, the Hilton Garden Inn now has four extra rooms that are going for $40/night each. Oh, they're the deluxe rooms, too. (Suh-weet!) So if you want to vacation with me and my crew, hop on over to Priceline and snap 'em up. The weekend promises lots of sightseeing and shopping ... along with a really bitchin' water gun fight that's been seven years in the making. For seven years, I have been waiting for revenge. And revenge is sweet.

I have a feeling the water gun fight will be something like Carrie's random artwork and Monstee's related game, ZAP! Except the conversation will go something like this:
Jeremy: "I'll zap you!"
Carrie: "I'll zap you back!"
Paul (who hates water gun fights): "I'm caught in the middle!"
Me: "I'll zap you all!"

(Let's hope that happens that way, anyway. I'll throw a hissy fit if I'm not the ultimate victor.) Two weeks til Matt comes back. I'm counting the days. Peace out, darlings.

Summer From Hell pays off

I've spoken of the Summer From Hell, so I'll skip the details and get to the meaty innards ...

When I emerged from the SFH, my life was upside down. I'd hit the crisis point. Too much work and too few hours together was driving a stake between me and Paul. I was playing long-distance caretaker to Romp -- now long gone. I was heavily drugged and sick from the meds. ... And I was interning on the copy desk at the metro broadsheet, which was the only stable thing in my life.

Here I was, doing the one damn thing I did well: editing. I was complimented often and treated well. So why wasn't I happy? Oh yeah ... I remember. Because I felt crushed under the weight of near-constant gloom. If you're a journalist, you know the saying: "If it bleeds, it leads." The problem was that it was bleeding through the pages, from section to section, dripping from National onto Metro onto the classifieds (which piled on the floor, because really, who reads the classifieds?).

Reporters see one story a day: their own. Editors see dozens, and most of them aren't feel-good stories about kittens being saved from trees. When I left the CA, I was fairly certain I still wanted to be an editor -- just not there. And I stayed true to my word. I explored feature writing, manuscript editing, even Internet journalism (and came close -- I was only a couple of classes away from an IJ major). I didn't know it at the time, but providence was putting wheels in motion that would place me in the crosshairs of a great book publisher, a great magazine editor and a great newspaper. Now I work for all three, and I couldn't be happier.

And it looks like I lucked out, as TMF is reporting a round of union-related layoffs at the CA, mostly from the copy desk. A damn shame really, because I know there's a lot of talent on the rim and the slot. The CA is a nice paper -- not blameless by a long shot, but a good product overall. Had I not flipped my lid a few years ago, I'd probably be there now, red pen tucked behind my ear.

So I hate to see the copy desk used as "progressive discipline" as mentioned in the story. It's a department that should never be taken lightly, because it's the last electric fence that separates the apes from the humans. It's the spike strip that keeps the public from peering too deeply into the raw information. And when you start hacking editors during layoffs, you're removing the buffer that keeps the reporters from looking like idiots. Not a good move.

Anyway, send good thoughts to the copy desk. I'm sure it's a little tense up there with all the changes. Peace and love, kids.

The call of the open road (times two)

What was it about that night?
Connection in an isolating age.
For once, the shadows gave way into light...
For once I didn't disengage...
--Rent

It's raining, and I'm feeling nostalgic. Started last night. I'd been talking to my buddy M. for a couple of hours, and was whining that I should've ordered in a pizza before the delivery places closed. With Paul out of town, I'm just foraging. I would've made a lousy bachelorette.

Anyway, about 4 a.m., I decided I was going to make a run to Krystal (White Castle to you Northerners) for some heartburn-on-a-bun. So with my bag of noshables at my side, I decided to crank the tunes and drive (a much easier task now that Carrie and Matt aren't around to agonize). I don't know why I do such things, because I invariably end up visiting my old haunts, dreaming of happier times.

I started by driving by the house where I spent the first seven years of my life. (As you'll recall, Paul and I are paying off the house where I spent '87 to '98.) Funny, how clearly I remember my old house -- watching my grandfather walk in the back door, getting splinters from the pool deck, cutting my hand on the chain-link fence, etc. But most of all, I remember My Tree, the one my parents planted when I was born. It was a beautiful strong Japanese maple perfect for climbing. And in fall, when all the other trees were turning yellow and orange, mine turned purple. It made me feel special. When we moved, the new owners cut down my tree. I cried, then I bought a copy of The Giving Tree, then I cried some more.

After I left there, I drove by my grandparents' house, the one where they lived until Papa's dementia forced them into assisted living. I drove by the park where I met my first crush on the merry-go-round. I drove by the bar where I first heard MattieP rock out (gee, update your blog, thxmuch). Then I picked up the back roads, the ones Mattie and I used to take when we'd go out, and drove all the way to Mississippi. After IMing M. ("You're where?!"), I picked up the Interstate and took it all the way home.

The sun was peeking over the horizon as I pulled into the driveway, and I sat in my car long enough to listen to the incredibly poignant "Side of the Road" by Ben Folds. It's like it'd been handpicked for the end of my little journey.

Next weekend, Jeremy, Sara, Paul and I are piling into the Vue and driving the 12ish hours to Jax to see Carrie. Carrie and I will laugh about stupid things like prom dresses. Paul and I will catch up on each other's lives as we walk on the beach (our 3rd anniversary is a couple of weeks away, so it'll be a nice respite). And at some point, I'll pull Jeremy away from Sara long enough to talk about all the things we've never gotten on the table.

::sighs:: I've got a lot planned for a 3-day weekend mostly spent in the car ... and I haven't even accounted for actually doing anything while we're there. If they're adventurous, we'll all play a beachfront game of hardcore Truth or Truth. If not, I'll play the alphabet game by myself, just like I did on the way to Indy. ::grins::

And that's all for now. I'm off to order the pizza I should have gotten last night. Peace, kiddos.

Why techies and non-techies don't talk

Saturday, 26 June 2005, 2:17 p.m.
Standing outside Bewitched with my mother...

Mom: "Did you have a relaxing morning?"
Me: "Eh. Not really. I've been coding since I rolled out of bed."
Mom: "Coating? Coating what?"
Me: "Coding, not coating. Um, some Web site stuff. And writing some SQL for work."
Mom: "You're writing a sequel?! To what?"
Me: (... long pause, not quite sure what to say ...)
Mom: (... looks very confused. A sequel? I can see her cogs turning ...)
Me: (abruptly) "Oh look! The theater is cleaned out! Let's go pick out our seats!"

::sighs:: I just ... oh ... never mind.

Kate's Ink: The cute and fluffy version

Well, as you can see, KI has a new look. Here's why:

This morning, like every morning, I rolled over and grabbed the SideKick to check my overnight IMs and e-mails. I used to do that first thing after getting out of bed. Now, I do it before I get out of bed. At this rate, it won't be long before I'm checking my e-mail and IMs before I wake up.

Anyway, Carrie had left me an IM that said something like, "Woah! I went to your blog this morning and there was nothing there!" Hmm, nothing? For real? Bummer! I figured that at some point, I'd probably forgotten to close a tag or something, and I just needed to find out where I'd screwed up. So I got out of bed and walked upstairs(!), and started loading up my blog. Sure enough, it was a blank page. No error message, no 404, just a sea of white where my blog used to be.

Well, to make a long story slightly shorter, the problem wasn't on my end. Blogger had a broken pipe, and my blog was one of the ones that went AWOL during the outage. No biggie, but I figured since I already had my fingers in the template, I might as well overhaul the design. Goodbye, Harbor. Don't let the door hit ya on the way out.

Once upon a time, this started as a template from BlogSkins. It didn't stay that way. In fact, all that's left of the original design is the bear. I squeezed out the last few drops of CSS knowledge I'd picked up in my college days and used it to tweak the size of the boxes, font size and color, the way links were handled, etc. I replaced old, tired Verdana with my own handwriting for the headers on the top and in the sidebar. I made everything light blue. ^_^ Oh, and I added a little KI icon next to linked titles (like the title of this post).

Now, I've been playing around with this far too long, and I've tried to fix all the broken links, etc. But if something isn't showing up, is showing up wonky, or could be improved in some way, let me know.

Oh, and I don't want any crap about how cute it is, because, dude, I happen to have a very cute and fluffy side. And a ton of teddy bears, like my buddy, Big Brown Bear. But I'll have you know that the cute and fluffy bear template barely edged out the cute and fluffy death template seen here. Peace and love, guyzos (and Carrie). ^_^

A few random things

I've got a long query running in the background, so I have like 3 minutes to say what's on my mind. So here goes:

1. I heard from Matt today. Yay! He's coming back. Yay! And it looks like the glasswork is going to really take off. But please send thoughts (or prayers or reiki or bright blessings) his way ... he's got some caretaker-type work to do before he comes home. As most of you know, that's not easy, so he's going to need all the long-distance lovin' you guys can send.
2. My brother-in-law, Matthew, doesn't read my blog. And that's fine, because I usually give him a pretty hard time to his face and he doesn't need to know any differently. ^_^ But, at least behind his back, I want to say what an awesome guy he is. He's smart and funny, very understanding, super caring, lets me play video games with him, and almost always accompanies me on my little road-trip excursions. And now that Paul's out of town, Matthew's taking good care of me. If I had a brother, I'd want him to be just like Matthew ... almost. :-P
3. And now for an example of providence kicking me in the face: Yesterday, Jeremy quit his job, so he and I made plans to go out and celebrate. Paul was all like, "You two go have fun!" ... but Jeremy's wife (who was supposed to be at work) wasn't terribly happy that he was out with me instead of her. So we skipped the alcohol, picked her up and went to Houston's for dinner. At no point did alcohol touch my lips last night. So why did I spend 20 minutes hugging the toilet this morning? Let's hope it's not "morning sickness." My birth control has a 5+% failure rate according to my OB/GYN.

Okay my 3 minutes is up (actually, it took 5). I'm back to work, but I'll post sometime later tonight when I get a little time. Smacky, your documentation's on the way. Peace and love, guyzos.

Documentation and YOU!

Dear folks with brand new domains --

I have documentation for you. Four pages. (Would've been five, but I cut back the font size a bit!) Since Monstee's cave is already moved over to his new domain, I wanted him to proofread the documents before I sent them to you ... but he seems more interested in eating my red pens than editing with them.

I don't know what e-mail addresses you want to use for contact purposes -- and I need those anyway, in case something borks on the site. So drop a line to kate(at)katesink(dot)com with a subject line like, "YO, BEEOTCH! IT'S (your-name-here)." If I don't realize the e-mail's from you. I'm likely to delete it. So leave no doubt in my mind of who you are.

Okay. I am not terribly coherent at 7 a.m., so I'm off to grab some caffeine and attempt to get ready for work. Peace!

Concert-y goodness

As much as I love Tori (bless her soul), she's been pre-empted this summer.

JULY 22, St. Louis. Ben Folds and Weezer. I'm taking a long weekend and killing time with these fuckers and these fuckers. Yay!

P.S.... when I was looking for the photos of Johnny and Zy, I came across this. <3
P.S.S.... I figured I'd better post a better pic of Dan, who reminded me that he is "so much more" than thong-head man. <3 <3

Hated the world over

So yesterday, I met up with Alex, the CA intern who's writing about local bloggers. Everybody wave to Alex -- Hi, Alex!! He's not at all scary, which is good for you Memfolks -- I, umm, kind of sold you out and gave him your URLs and contact info (Abby ... Evan ... Johanna ... etc.)

Unfortunately, Monstee, he was not interested in your total awesomeness. Your cave is too far away from Memphis, which is a damn shame, because you'd light up this city like a big blue flame. Err, did that come out wrong? You know what I meant.

Today -- for the second day in a row, mind you -- I left the office for lunch. If I do it two days in a row, does that make it a habit? Because I've been working through lunch like my whole life. I'd hate to break my stride now.

Aaaanyway, being the nice middle-of-the-road independent I am, I'm sitting in my car noshing on some Freedom Fries, flipping back and forth between EIB and Franken. (I left my iPod in the office.) Franken rips on the president while Limbaugh rips on Durbin and Pelosi. And Savage rips on everybody because you just can't please him.

Now, as I told Alex, I try to stay away from politics in my blog. You get enough of that locally from Hollihan and Lawrence and Sparks -- a CA staffer whose kids were Paul's playmates growing up. You've even got Ktown's freshman legislator, Stacey Campfield, who's fielded some not-so-nice comments by blogging the innards of the Tennessee House.

So I try to stay away from politics, but after flipping around the radio this morning, I gotta say it: Do you think you could quit hating on the media a bit, guys? Liberals think the media is too conservative; conservatives think the media is too liberal ... and, yeah, Savage rips on everybody. Look, I understand that a certain amount of bias resides in all journalists. It's high time that the media recognizes its right to an opinion while not fanning the flames of that opinion into the faces of its audience. But for commentators to sit in their sound-proofed studios and repeatedly denounce all journalists ... well, that does nothing but embitter the world against the 97 percent of journalists who really do have a conscience.

What's the answer? Not buying fully into either side. Reading, listening and learning as much as possible on your own. Recognizing that everything -- from textbooks to Trivial Pursuit -- is colored by its creators' opinions. ... And trusting that, despite what both sides say, the media is not a giant conglomerate conspiring to brainwash the world.

As a reporter -- and later as an editor -- I cried over stories and sources and situations. I hurt. And I've seen people at it much longer than me approach the meltdown point because they care. So why, as a group, are journalists treated as if they are less than human? It's time for the people with influence -- the Limbaughs and Frankens and Savages of the world -- to take their thumbs out of their asses and learn a little respect. And if not respect, as least compassion for a largely thankless job.

And until that happens, I'm keeping the iPod plugged in. The commentators can kiss my ass.

Peace and love guys -- please be supportive. Feeling kinda low about all the negativity.

No content, but FIVE NEW PICS! ::grins::

First of all, Happy Birfday Sammy! How does 36 feel, old man? Hmm? ::grins::

Well, I have lots to say -- just like last night -- but I'm awfully tired. -_- I'm afraid that's going to be the norm while Paul's out of town. Maybe I'll feel inspired but I kind of doubt it. All my inspiration is being spent on the piano. I'm even waking up early(!) and playing instead of watching the news. What has Matt done to me?

Okay, so I thought I'd share a couple of pics that were on my desk at work. My boss flipped through them today and commented how interesting they were (especially the random thongs hanging from the ceiling). Hey, what can I say? I've got interesting friends. Especially DAN, DAN, THONG-ON-HEAD MAN.

So, I quickly tucked my photos away (hey, makes me seem more mysterious), and brought them home to scan.

• The pantylier. This was set up in the Geek Pit in St. Louis. If I recall correctly, it's three thongs and a pair of granny panties. O_O







• OPS(fa) sitting under the pantylier. This is pre-GoatMeat and pre-Russia. (Wow, has it been that long?) My favorite OP memory: Taking the PCH "detour" from Los Angeles right into the ghetto. ^_^




• Andy, a looong time ago. He's like some hotshot music dude in Nashvegas now who never has time to make it down to Memphis. At least he still answers the phone when I call to bitch at him. Oh, and it's his fault I own every CD Cake ever put out. It's like a damn drug.





• Random folks who know each other. Abby's all the way on the right; Evan's third on the left. This is very important, which you'll discover tomorrow.





• Bought a SK2 tonight. I suppose I'll post more about it tomorrow after I've had time to play with it a bit more. Why did I buy an SK2? Because I dropped the SKcolor like a dozen times and busted it up. So I gave it to Jeremy. Then I took this picture.

Maybe content later, maybe not. ::sighs:: Maybe a latte. Or a nap. Or maybe I'll just curl up with these SQL queries and let my brain work through them a bit.

Blocked

It's 8:10 p.m. I've written and erased the first paragraph of this entry a dozen times now. Doesn't really matter, because I'm at an empty office with the fun and exciting(!) prospect of going home to an empty house.

So, Kate, what's on your mind? Why can't you just write the damn entry and go home? I don't know. I can't clear my thoughts. Now it's 8:38. I'm still here. It feels like the beginning of the end, tonight. I don't know. It's that feeling of pushing your tongue to the roof of your mouth to keep from vomiting. And I haven't felt it with this much regularity since Rompy was around. We don't talk about that now, not even here. And that's not the only thing that's locked up away from you guys in hopes that someday it will dissipate instead of fester.

That's it. I'm sorry. I'm having trouble forgetting. I want to go to Old Poplar, lay out under the stars and pretend that once again the Leonids are racing and erasing across the sky, tumbling in and out of view.

But these days, all that twinkles just out of reach are pieces of the past rising from the mist -- an image here, a feeling there. Like a dream, through the benzo haze, shivers and pangs. The hairs on my arm standing on end.

I wish I were Thessaly. She'd know what to do. I'm sorry.

::sighs:: It's 9 p.m. Might as well head for home.

Hittin' the Big Time

Okay, there's a real post bottled up inside of me, so expect that later tonight.

But, dude, I just had to share the e-mail that buzzed my way:

Hi, my name is Alex LeMaine, an intern with The Commercial Appeal. I'm doing a story about how blogging has replaced previous types of venting and expressing thoughts, such as the phone or actual physical journals.

You being a journalist, I figured you would have some good insight. If you're interesting you can get back to me. I suppose this is a chance for me to plug my own blog; http://www.areyl.blogspot.com. Thanks.

Alex, buddy, I'd be more than willing to talk to you about my blog -- most likely off the record -- but I'd give you some rockin' local sources to hit up. Why off the record? Because, dude, I interned there in '01 ... and I'm fairly certain I've posted a few choice words about my time there. Like how it colored my final memories of "real life" and "real emotion" before I was relegated to heavy prescriptions to get my head on straight. Regular readers: You know this as the Summer From Hell.

But the real reason I posted Alex's letter is this sentence: If you're interesting you can get back to me.

I don't know guys ... am I interesting enough to get back to him? ::grins:: Talk amongst yourselves.

Master of your own domain (part deux)

Okay, the sites are active. I've put a (really lame) holder page up for the index. Hey, look, it was funny to me. That's what matters. ::grins::

I need each of you to grab me at some point for about 8-10 minutes of instruction on how to use your control panel, check your e-mail, ftp in files, etc. I'd prefer to talk to more than one of you at a time, seeing as how I'm not too fond of repeating myself. Easiest way to reach me is via AIM after 5 p.m. CDT. For those of you still puttering around on dial-up, I swear I won't tie up your phone line for longer than a few minutes.

::yawns:: And now that I've spent most of the afternoon setting up the hosting packages, creating e-mail addresses and whatnot, I think it's time to order a pizza and crack open the last Singha in the fridge. Bummer that we don't have PE down here, as it was one of the few redeeming qualities about Indy. The closest I've come is Memphis Pizza Cafe. Or maybe Pie in the Sky. Neither delivers, so I'm stuck with a megachain or skipping dinner.

By the way, hyperlinked addresses and e-mail are as follows:

• StargazerGirl.com, carrie@stargazergirl.com
• MeAmMonstee.com, monstee@meammonstee.com
• GrrFace.com, lauren@grrface.com
• SmackyAndBucky.com, smacky@smackyandbucky.com
• FeroxFemina.com, abby@feroxfemina.com

Peace dudes.

Master of your own domain

I have a story to tell you. Yes, it's worth your time. This is me when I was, like, 10:

As you can see, I used to play soccer. There was actually supposed to be a girls team and a guys team, but I was the only girl who wanted to play, so I ended up playing with the guys.

It wouldn't have been so darn embarrassing if my dad hadn't felt the need to remind me that when they were playing shirts vs. skins that I had to make sure I was on the shirts team. Yeah, I know he was just looking out for his little girl, but gee, Dad, thanks.

(Oh, special note to Monstee: Notice the tan? Dude, that's what I'm talkin' about. ::grins::)

Anyway, I didn't last too long on the guys' soccer team. I got a nasty black eye and that was that. I didn't want to play anymore. See, all my life, I've been buddy-buddy with the guys. I can throw down with the best of them. I'm a gamer chick, a comic chick, a gadget chick, a programmer chick. I like boxers; I hate dresses. And I will beat your ass down if you get in my way. Period.

But that said, I am not one of the guys. Give me a black eye, and I will cry. Fuck with my head, and I'll beat you down and then cry. I'm a chica through and through: You wouldn't catch me dead without a tube of lipstick, my jewelry, and my purse. I still have a favorite teddy bear (see SnottyPaws). And while I'm down with the locker room jokes, I don't often participate in the "she has such a hot ass" conversations. [Edit 6/19: This is not entirely true, as somebody has pointed out to me that I often participate in such discussions. But it's purely from an appreciation standpoint. Well, except for Ani D., because, dude ... she's just cool. Yeah.]

So why am I telling you all this? Well, I'm glad you asked. It's because I spent far too many years of my life keeping things tucked away from my friends ... only to lose them (or their respect?) when they found out something about me that didn't jive. It does you no good to know that I throw down with the guys if you don't know that deep down, I'm still a girly girl. If you don't see both aspects on the front end, it sets things up for failure.

So I started doing things my way. My friendships are built on honesty from the ground up. I laid all my cards out on the table, and those who were left standing were my true friends. They really liked me for me.

First, it was my college buddies. Then I got hooked on AC and found a lot of people who not only loved me in-game, but loved me in real life. Wow. Impressive. And now, I've got my Blogger buddies, the ones who read and comment and stick around. Honestly, you know more about me than my parents do. It's true.

So I figured it was payback time. Time to share the love. To that end, I've registered StargazerGirl.com, MeAmMonstee.com, SmackyAndBucky.com, GrrFace.com and FeroxFemina.com. Yep. Consider it my gift to you. And, to make it even sweeter, I'm the hosting reseller, so you've got the major hook. The nameservers will be resolving in the next couple of days -- probably before Monday -- and I'll get you all set up in your new home.

Hey, if I could buy you all a Rolex, I would ... but this is the best I can do. Enjoy. I love you guys. ^_^

Same game, different players

::Sighs:: It was a long night. I'm pooped.

Paul had to work late (sometime after 3 a.m.) to get ready for his trip to Houston. Jeremy, bless his soul, managed to wrangle a night away from his wife, so he came over to help me clean out the liquor cabinet and watch the one remaining episode each of The Venture Bros. and Robot Chicken. (Seth Green is cool ... but, dude, Matt Senreich roxors my boxers. Mmm ... Toyfare-y goodness. ::drool::)

So Jer and I start with one hell of a rum runner (which also used a half-liter of Grey Goose between the two of us). Then we progressed to double shots of Disaronno and Chambord. Well, he failed to inform me that (a.) he hadn't eaten in like a day and a half, and (b.) he's got the ulcer from hell. So he ended up passed out on the floor of my half-bath, out of cigarettes, with pink puke everywhere. Took me a while to realize it was Pepto-Bismol. (Incidentally, that link is worth clicking on just to play with the Pepto-Bismol Dance Machine.) Well, he was in no condition to ride in my car all the way back to his place, so he crashed in Matt's bed. And he didn't call his wife. >_< (Why do I feel like I'm going to catch hell from her for that? ::sigh::)

Now, see, Matt and I bought $150 worth of booze a week and a half before he left town. And Matt, as we all know, can get pretty sloppy drunk. So the whole point of cleaning out the liquor cabinet was to mitigate the amount of alcohol before Matt came back. So why did it feel like I was taking care of Matt all over again? I tried to (nicely) explain it to Jer this morning ... I've never been much of a drinker, and most of my friends don't drink or only socially drink. So the extent of my experience dealing with drunk folks is from some friends in college (like MD, who puked all over the bathroom wall in his dorm room, leaving a stain that was still there when he and Paul graduated two years later).

Eh, I handled it the best way I knew how. I poked him with my toe. "Err, Jer (poke poke), hon ... are you (poke poke) ... are you okay?" And when he didn't respond, I sought advice online from Paul and Carrie and Matthew and Sammy. (Incidentally, the joke has floated around my circles [AC and SA] that we are all overly dependent on 'Net conjecture: "Hey, guys, my girlfriend just broke her arm, the bone's sticking out, and there's blood everywhere. So, um, do you think I should call a doctor?") Fortunately, it all turned out okay ... but like I said, I'm tired.

By the way, readership is way up, so thanks guys. I'm getting unique hits out the wazoo and I don't even know what a wazoo is. Now I'm off to write some SQL to query my iTunes database, then have a pre-Father's Day dinner with Mom and Dad and Paul.

By the way, if you haven't checked out the Kate-centric posts at S&BII and M's Cave, you should. ::grins:: All the love without any of the fat, calories or guilt. Peace and love, kiddos.

Looking for something to do this weekend?

Woo-hoo -- it's finally Friday! Got any weekend plans?

If not, consider checking out the 11th Annual RC & MoonPie Festival on Saturday, June 18, in Bell Buckle, Tenn. (Incidentally, you need to click on that link just to check out the folks dressed up like giant RCs and MoonPies.) This year's celebration is especially full of especially good special goodness(!!!) because RC Cola turns 100 years old this year! w00t!

I've got the press pack for this event, but unfortunately I won't be able to drag myself there. (I know ... it bums me out, too.) However, if you're planning on going, you can participate in these exciting events:

• The RC-MoonPie craft fair
• The RC-MoonPie 10-mile run
• The RC-MoonPie parade
• The RC-MoonPie king and queen coronation
• The following fun games: MoonPie toss, RC Dash, MoonPie Hoops, watermelon seed-spitting contest, and a game titled "Oldest Person Present." ::grins::
• Plus(!), the world's largest MoonPie, which will be cut and served at 3:30 p.m.

If you're bummed out because you can't make it to the event, you could always order this shirt. Yup. Peace and love, guys.

Find me a purse ... Win a prize!

I'm a gadget freak. There, I said it. (Insert polite AA applause here.) This has not been a problem until recently -- in the last two months, I've aquired both a hiptop and an iPod Photo.

"I need a place to stick these things," I mused to Paul the other night. He looked at me dumbly and responded, "Like, maybe, your purse?" Okay, no. That's not what I mean. My "purse" is a 17"x12"x6" black embroidered Daily News satchel capable of holding an old-school laptop. It lacks the pockets I need to store chargers, cables, headphones, etc. (But it makes a nice man-bag!)

So I took my search online. I hit up Old Navy, Macy's and eBags. When I hit a dead end, I searched Google and eBay. And I even found a Dior bag that would do the trick, but it's slightly out of my price range ($2,800.00). Sigh.

I've failed, so now I'm putting the task to you. Here's what I'm looking for:

• A reasonably priced (use your judgment on price) purse/handbag/laptop satchel/whatever
• Has pockets for my iPod, hiptop, Palm Pilot, GBA and digital camera
• Has zippered sections or pockets for chargers, headphones, cables, etc.
• Can handle a decent amount of weight without breakage
• Will also hold my makeup, teddy bear, bottled water, magazines, sheet music, hat, mirror and meds (~10 bottles)
• Bonus points if it's at least somewhat stylish
• I'll even consider a custom sewing job as long as it's not terribly expensive and meets the above requirements.
  

Now, if I were you, I'd be saying, "Dude, Kate, that's like a monumentally impossible task. Give me one good reason to help you out."

Hmm, well, since you're gonna play hardball like that, how about this: You find me a bag that fits the bill, and I'll send you an autographed copy of my anthology, an autographed copy of the bestseller The Next Big Thing, a package of limited edition Memphis-only Elvis notecards (authenticated by EPE), and a half-pound of super-fine imported Belgian chocolate ... all tucked inside my old Daily News bag (which is really l33t in its own right). Now that's hardcore.

I'm serious about this. I need pockets, and fast -- before my iPod headphones find themselves once again tangled up in my hairbrush. Please help?

Never have I ever ...

Today's "thong on my nose" photo brought to you by Ronin, who'd kill me if he knew I'd posted this. ::grins::



(We'll save the pantylier story for another time.)

Settling into the closet

Well, I'm finally getting settled into my new closet, err, office. Here's what it looks like:

• The view from my doorway. Note the extensive phone/'Net equipment on the wall. If I'm angry, I can disconnect everyone from the Internet or change their phone extensions. If I'm unlucky, the fan in the corner will catch a whole mess of cords, thus disconnecting everyone from the Internet and changing their extensions in one fell swoop! ::grins::
  


• What's an office without a welcome mat? And my welcome mat comes with a built-in warning: Cross the line, and Cosmo and Wanda will zap you into oblivion. Or turn you into Vicky (ewww).
  


• Half of my "smart workspace." Let me tell you guys, ever since they installed this smartie workspace, I've felt my IQ increase exponentially. Or maybe that's just a caffeine rush. Anyway, I've got all the essentials: boombox (and iPod), Paul's pic in a fluffy pink frame, and my own coffee pot. SCORE!
  


• This is the view from my doorway. Woo-hoo! Actually, I'm within five feet of the bathroom, the Coke machine (now with free Cokes), and the fridge ... but I'm tucked away from the rest of the office. So the only time I get visitors is when somebody's hungry, thirsty, or has to pee (which is more often than you might imagine).

Actually, I can't complain. I'm really happy with my new closet. I mean, it beats a cubicle by a long shot, I've got way more desk space than I had in my larger office, and it's way quiet back here. Also, the T1 box sits right above my desk, so in theory, I could hook right into the pipe if I so desired. But I'm a good girl. I'd never do that. I just like to dream.

EDIT: I almost forgot to mention that I've got it a lot better than some of the other people who were recently rearranged. I had to giggle this morning when I opened an e-mail from my boss. In part, it read:"Don ... was recently relocated to the shower area in the southeast corner of the second floor." Poor Don. Poor poor Don. He was supposed to move into my old office, but gave it up for a pregnant coworker who can't climb stairs anymore ...

... and now he's been relegated to the shower. ::cringes:: Yeah, when you put it in that context, my closet is pretty darn nice.

Yippee! Word from Matt!

Okay, I couldn't wait any longer to post an update.

Here's my conversation with myself this morning: "Okay, Kate. You're not going to call Matt today. In the past 14 days, you've called him at least 14 times, left one voice mail, and sent two e-mails. There are two explanations for this: (1.) You've pissed him off and he's avoiding you; or (2.) He's having so much fun that he's ignoring and/or not charging his phone. So give it a rest. When he's ready to talk, he'll call."

Yep. That's what I told myself. Then, while I was cleaning out my office to move into my closet, I found his number on a Post-It ... so I picked up the phone and dialed it. What can I say? I'm weak like that.

Lo! What is this?! An updated voice mail message? Holy moly!

I was shocked (read: overjoyed!), but that was quickly replaced by irrepressible giggles. Turns out that the dude we'd gone to visit over Memorial Day weekend ran over Matt's phone with his car. ::grins:: Okay, okay ... I'm sorry that Matt's phone was destroyed and that Unnamed Megachain is giving him problems about getting a new one. Still, it's kind of funny that the dude with no home phone was the dumbass responsible for this whole debacle.

This also (sort of) explains why duder didn't call me back when I left a message for him at work. Hey, his loss. I had a gift for him, but I don't send gifts to people who don't return my phone calls.

Matt e-mailed from a computer in Unnamed Megachain ... just something long enough to say that he's okay, things are hectic, and he'd be in touch. Didn't mention whether I should buy glass or the Minor (dude, you're killing me here) ... so I'm in a holding pattern money-wise until I know how much he wants me to buy.

Okay. Happy. Dizzy. Going back to work. ::hugs::

The hardest habit to kick

Goodbye, EffexorXR. And good riddance.

In two days last month, I decreased my dose from 450mg to 150mg. In two days this week, I decreased my dose from 150mg to ... nothing. Crazy? Yes. If Paul knew, he'd kill me. But I see it as an exercise in self-preservation. It's time for me to admit that I'm physically addicted to this drug and find a way to break that tie.

Withdrawal is the pits. Going from 450mg to 150mg was very hard. And quitting completely is nearly impossible. I'm dizzy and shaky. Imagine spinning around in a circle 30 or 40 times before getting behind the wheel of your car. That's me. I've done my best to offset the effects: I've increased my doses of vitamins C (regulates neurotransmitters), B3 (treats mood disorders), B6 (balances hormones and moods), B9 (treats anxiety) and B12 (fights fatigue). I've also added a steady flow of meclizine and doxylamine (both for nausea), naproxen (for the constant migraine) and caffeine (to increase uptake speed).

Hey, that cocktail seems to be doing the trick so far. The worst movement of the day is sitting up in bed. After things kick in, I'm good to go. I visit the doc on Thursday, so we'll see what happens from there.

What else is going on in the Kate pipeline? Well ... I'm thinking about driving to Jacksonville to see Carrie. This is complicated slightly by the fact that (a.) Paul's going to Texas for, like, damn near forever to do some research; and (b.) it's a really long drive. So my plans hinge largely on whether I can secure a compadre as a reserve driver. All the pressure's on you, Jeremy. ::grins::

Carrie, Monstee and I have started PuzzleDonkey 1, which we're slowly attacking as a team via AIM. It's funny, how we all think a little bit differently -- we've each been responsible for solving some of the problems. Anyway, it's not too late to get in on this with us. Just drop me an IM tonight and I'll hook you up.

Okie dokie, time to get a move on. Peace and love, guyzos.

The Playlist

Okay, so I haven't yet shipped out Carrie's birthday gift. >_<

This is because I'm missing a vital component of what I'm sending. But I still feel guilty -- I went to great lengths to pick up part of the gift so I'd have it by a certain date. In fact, I had Paul meet this dude "under the guard tower in the Southern Ave. parking lot at 1 p.m. to make the exchange" (his words). Doesn't that sound exciting?! ::grins::

Anyway, last night, we were talking about some songs she'd heard when she was in Memphis. I offered to burn a CD with those songs, plus a few others I thought she needed to hear. I added the playlist to my iPod, and I'm actually listening to "Carrie's Mix" right now.

OH! Time to break out a whole folder of embarrassing Carrie photos! Feel the love!

Now that that's out of the way, I can get on to sharing my playlist with you. Came out to 78 minutes -- so it fit perfectly on an 80-minute CD. Here are the songs ... in order, hotlinked to lyrics.

1. Can't Cry Hard Enough (cover), Susan Ashton
2. Boulevard of Broken Dreams, Green Day
3. Homeward Bound, Simon & Garfunkel
4. Still Fighting It, Ben Folds
5. Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen), Baz Luhrmann
6. Steady On, Point of Grace
7. I Will Hold On, Moxy Fruvous
8. Somewhere Down the Road, Barry Manilow
9. Ironic (karaoke version), Alanis Morissette
10. Lisa Listen, Lisa Loeb
11. Carrie, Europe
12. Three Little Pigs, Green Jelly
13. Excuses, Alanis Morissette
14. Landed, Ben Folds
15. A Rose is a Rose, Susan Ashton
16. Breathe (cover), Opportunes
17. Section 12: Hold Me Now, Polyphonic Spree
18. Daniel (cover), Tori Amos

So I tried to get all the lyrics from Leo's (since they're generally free of pop-ups), but I had to venture elsewhere on the web for four of the songs. I tried to hit up places without pop-ups, so you should be good to go.

Also, I have a confession to make: I told Carrie I'd give her the playlist in advance so she could veto any of the songs. But I've already burned the disk. Oh well. She'll live.

Peace and love, kids.

A (very) short story

Paul and I eat a lot of Chinese food. This is because they deliver, and when you've got one overworked editor and one overworked chemist living together, delivery is a godsend. This is especially true now while Matt's gone -- I pull a lot of late nights at the office so I don't have to come home to an empty house. ::Sighs:: We haven't talked in 11 days; I'm a little worried. But, hey, what can you do?

Anyway, back to the Chinese food. Woke up this morning wanting to write. Something about why we get so much Chinese delivery. Something short I could throw in my anthology if Chuckie and I ever get our acts together and get it to the printer. ::Winces::

Here's what I came up with. I haven't edited it; just cranked it out and posted it. So be nice.

Mu Shu Rhapsody

In the dimness of Chin’s Chinese Café, Allison signed her Visa receipt. Her waitress hovered nearby. Allison closed the receipt portfolio and nodded to the waitress, who approached in quick, small steps, picked up the receipt and bowed low.

As the waitress turned and scurried toward the kitchen, Allison admired the intricacy of her server’s traditional cheongsam. Crafted of tasteful navy silk embroidered with lotus flowers, the long-sleeved dress encompassed the woman’s tiny frame as if it had been made especially for her. Its length brushed her ankles, but slits up either side allowed for movement. Not as if her server needed the slits; as long as Allison had been coming here, she’d never seen the woman walk in anything other than a tiny tiptoe.

Allison sighed contentedly as her eyes roamed over the restaurant’s interior. Its appropriations were as traditional as the waitron. A large, clear aquarium with three koi greeted guests at the entrance. Well-manicured bamboo plants were clustered in unused corners. And from the lights positioned over each table dangled a small baqua and bell to which a large red tassel had been attached.

Chin’s had the best mu shu pork in town, bar none. Ever since Allison had moved to San Francisco, she’d been venturing to this tiny bistro on the outskirts of Chinatown. And every time she left, she felt this way – full, contented, warm, sleepy. Better than her last lover had made her feel, she mused.

In fact, she enjoyed Chin’s so much that her patronage there had increased steadily in the last year. Nearly every night now, she’d walk the twelve blocks from her tiny, windowless office at the insurance agency to the café. And she wasn’t the only one – the crowds had been growing steadily over the past few months. These days, to get in the door, she had to squeeze past a dozen people in line to pick up their take-out orders. She’d gone so far as to make a standing seven o’clock reservation for the table in the far left corner, the one she called her own.

Allison pulled a pocket mirror from her handbag and looked briefly at her reflection. Something in the back of her brain sounded an alarm – she looked gaunt these days. Gaunt and tired. But as soon as the alarm sounded, it was gone, replaced by the warm rush of her satisfying dinner. She quickly applied a thin layer of lipstick, closed her purse, placed her napkin on the table and stood clumsily. And suddenly, out of nowhere, her waitress was back at her side. She offered a stabilizing arm, walked Allison out the door, helped her into a waiting cab.

Then, the thin waitress sauntered back inside, past the aquarium and cash register, into the kitchen. Her next table’s order, kung pao chicken, was almost ready to serve. She reached for a small unlabeled shaker stored on a low shelf with the other seasonings. A quick dash on top and it was ready. She placed the GHB back on the shelf, straightened her cheongsam, and walked out of the kitchen, order in hand.

More pictures ^_^

::Grins:: I had so much fun going through pictures last night that I thought I'd share a few more today. Don't worry, I don't plan on making a habit of showing off my friends -- I'm not like one of those grandmas who pulls out a walletful of photos and spends 45 minutes talking about her nephew's last colonoscopy.

But most of my (local) readers know each other in real life, so without further ado ...

• My little bro-in-law, Matthew
• My favorite columnist
• Frank, Daniel, Billy and Carlos playing Risk
• Mom and me with my cat
• And Dad and me
• Paul as a kid (Wasn't he cute?)
• Paul and Matthew playing in the rain
• And I'm only including this because I can't figure out whose butt I'm checking out LOL

More commiseration

Well, I surpassed 4,300 songs on my iPod, at which point I decided to stop uploading and go through boxes. Not the boxes we haven't unpacked since we moved, mind you, but the ones that my parents left behind with all my stuff in it.

Oh boy. What a goldmine. I found lots of pictures and some art ... but the biggest find was a book in which all my friends had a page (or pages) to draw on or decorate as they saw fit. It's full of all these crazy inside jokes from 1996 (my sophomore year in high school). Inside jokes that don't even make sense anymore, like the following phrases:

• Spastic cheese and bombastic potatoes
• Hey monkey, am I a mountain or a hill?
• Hairy nacho
• To pea or not to pea

At one time, those meant something. Okay, they still make me giggle, but mostly because they're so darn absurd.

Also, I broke out the scanner so I could share some visual aids from days when I was a bit crazier than now ...

• Random musings from 1994
• Carrie's "artwork" (love the note at the top)
• Jeremy and Len showing off his cake decorating skills
• Paul, Len, me, Jeremy, Rebekah, Andy, MD

Yurp. Happy days. ^_^ Peace and love, guyzos.

For 81 cents a day ...

Kate's Top 5 Online Subscriptions (in no particular order):
1. Something Awful forums -- Utter asininity. Quick-witted and often sarcastic forums covering everything from pets to Photoshop and guns to goons. Throw in a hefty dose of anime, porn and GBS (general bullshit), and you've got SA. (Cost: $9.95 one-time fee, or less than 1 cent a day.)

2. TotalFark -- The big sister of Fark.com, TF is user-submitted linkage categorized by time and type. While Fark posts 40-50 links a day, TF posts 1,200-1,500. This is my lunch break nirvana -- there's enough weird news and funny Photoshop contests here to keep my brain from dwelling on work. (Cost: $50/year, or 13.7 cents a day.)

3. LAUNCHcast Radio -- Yes, LC offers a free radio service to all Yahoo! members. So why would you want to plunk down money for it? Well, one good reason is that it allows you unlimited song skippage instead of a certain number of skips per month. Also, it eliminates advertisements. And it unlocks 80-100 members-only stations. My favorites are 10 Years Ago: Hits of '95 and Modern Broadway, but at work, I usually listen to Chill Out, New Age or Martini Lounge. ($35.99/year, or 9.9 cents a day.)

4. City of Heroes -- Okay, so I've started playing Guild Wars too, but CoH is my first love. Create your own superhero, choose your powers, and team up with friends to fight bad guys. The graphics are great, the storyline is absolutely incredible ... and the free comic book doesn't hurt either. It's held my attention for nearly a year, and that's a record. (Cost: $14.95/month, or 49.8 cents a day.)

5. Comics.com -- I subscribe to 80 comics, which are e-mailed to me in one nice (and surprisingly small) HTML file daily. Comics.com also has a searchable extended archive, with the option of e-mailing the comics to a friend. Want to find all the Dilberts from 1999 that deal with love? Not a problem. And you also get access to editorial cartoons, newspaper columns and (as of this month) an online crossword puzzle. (Cost $24.95/year, or 6.8 cents a day.)

That adds up to 81 cents a day ... which is surprisingly little to provide me with as much entertainment as I get from these links. Anybody know of any good Web subscriptions I left off the list?

Thursday morning buzz

Once upon a time, I was a coffee drinker. In fact, I used to regularly down megamugs of the $1.29 vanilla blend at the now-defunct Espresso Etc. while listening to the musical stylings of Zero Ohms.

Then I gave up the coffee for tisanes (and the occasional tea). Coffee became a "sometimes food." Why? Well, I'd like to say that it's because I'm looking out for my health, but that's a laugh coming from a chica whose motto is "Better Living Through Chemistry." <-- (note updated link)

Well, this morning, I discovered the office is now serving Javarama and Starbucks. Every day. For free. I've already had two cups of each -- and that's a lot, considering we only stock 20-ounce cups in the break room. I am quite buzzed, and my productivity is through the frickin' roof, if I do say so myself.

The free coffee is a consolation prize since I'm relinquishing my office to the ad manager (who is, in turn, relinquishing his office to a subsidiary company that's taking over our second floor). I'm moving from my spacious office into a closet (yes, I'm for real). The upside is that it's much quieter ... and now I can drink my 80 ounces of coffee in peace. ::grins::

The brain in my iPod

My iPod is sentient. I know it.

Why? Because it has musical tastes.

This has become apparent while using the shuffle feature in the past week. Let me explain: I have a 30-gig iPod Photo with about 13 gigs of music loaded in -- roughly 3,750 songs (and still six inches of CDs [without cases] to rip). According to iTunes, there's currently enough music in my iPod to run continuously 24 hours a day for about 10 days without any duplication.

So why am I listening to the same 20 songs over and over?

My first thought was that the songs were being scored and weighted, causing some songs to be played more than others. But (a.) I have not rated any songs, and (b.) the songs it's playing over and over aren't even songs I really like.

I commute around 35-45 minutes to work each way, so roughly an hour and a half total. And during that time, I do hear plenty of songs that the iPod hasn't played before. But for the last three days, at some point in that hour and a half, I have heard the following songs:

• Juliana Hatfield's cover of Weezer's "Say It Ain't So"
• Billy Joel's "I Don't Know Why"
• The Beatles' "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds"
• the karaoke version of Alanis Morissette's "Ironic"
• Rage Against the Machine's "Take the Power Back"
  

There are several other songs that have played at least twice during the last three days. Paul says the shuffle feature is far from perfect; I say the iPod is thinking. Next thing I know, it'll be plotting my demise or worse!, trying to convert me to a Mac. (Okay, guys, I'll front: I've had a soft spot in my heart for Macs ever since I my first programming class -- I learned BASIC on a university Mac when I was like eight. ::grins:: AND Macs are all I worked on for years as a reporter, a designer and an editor. But, still, they're inherently evil ... right?)

So, I'm left with these questions: Does anyone with an iPod SDK think you could, you know, fix this little problem for me? And in the meantime, should I even bother ripping the rest of the CDs if I'm sure I'll be listening to the same songs in a different order tomorrow?

Happy Birthday, Carrie! (plus some other stuff)

Today is my best friend's birthday. There aren't adequate words to express how much I love this chica. She's endured my crushes on obnoxious boys without getting preachy. She's put up with me spewing repeatedly on cross-country bus trips without getting grossed out. And she's even thrown shoes at my friends when they deserve to have shoes thrown at them. ::grins::

Carrie, you may be far away, but pieces of you are always here with me in Memphis. Happy birthday, dear. May it be a good one.

Now on to something completely different...

I'm feeling a little lonely these days, with Carrie back home (for another year), Matt gone (and won't return my calls), Jeremy going (maybe?) and Paul working all the time (which makes him distant and moody). Even Matthew is too busy to hang out. I'm throwing a pity party, and this is my theme music.

Stacey and Lance come back from Europe tomorrow, and I'm kind of sad about the whole thing. Not sad about them coming back, but sad that I'll be giving up the extra work around the office. I've thrown myself into Lioness Mode the past few weeks. I've worked late every night, given up eating breakfast and lunch and savored the burn in the pit of my stomach from the extra stress. Why? Because it's like the old days, and I missed it. Stress with a purpose. I like doing things all the way, pushing my limits. And I guess I kind of like other people looking out for me when I don't look out for myself. That's hardcore.

Have I mentioned I'd like to run off to Canada? Either Toronto or Vancouver. Just six months or so ... long enough to savor the change of pace. I'd freelance out my mad writing and editing skills for rent money. And if things got bad, I've got friends in both cities who would help me out. I'd drink lots of maple tea and shop at Daiso (in Vancouver) or the farmer's market (in Toronto). I'd savor the cold weather, watch lots of hockey, write prose and music (no, I don't share it with anyone), maybe figure out a few things about myself. Hell, it'd never happen, but it's fun to plan -- err, I mean dream about. ^_^

Peace and love, guys. Oh, and hey ... good luck Smacky. (Hope your "boss" [tonight] is a real slavedriver.)

Musical chairs

When Matt and I were on the road Memorial Day weekend, he mentioned that he and I have very different musical tastes. It was something that he'd mentioned before, and yet I still had to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Well, what do you like to listen to?" I asked him.

"You know, old stuff. The Beatles. Stuff from the Sixties. Things like that," he replied. Of course, this confounded me even more, because I have CDs of The Beatles. Several of them, in fact. And other old stuff, too. And, I told him, I could get different old stuff if he wanted -- he just had to tell me which artists he liked. This, of course, presented a problem. He couldn't remember which artists he liked. Sigh.

I have come to the conclusion that Matt thinks we have very different musical tastes because (a.) he hasn't seen the extent of my music collection, or (b.) I like very eclectic things, so it's not that I don't like what he does, but that he likes much less than I do.

I didn't realize how eclectic my tastes were until I started adding music to my iPod. I uploaded my MP3 selection and started ripping CDs (which I'm still doing several days later). Right now, my count is somewhere near 3,500 songs -- with about three dozen CDs to go.

Despite Paul's protests, I like to keep the iPod on shuffle when I'm in the car. And that's when it gets really funky. During my morning commute, it shuffled through Billy Joel, Jessie Mae Hemphill (blues), some ambient rock, Ani DiFranco, Bob Marley, some hardcore Japanese trance, Green Day, a gospel song, System of a Down and Ben Folds. They Might Be Giants' "I Palindrome I" was playing when I pulled into the parking lot. So, yeah, pretty eclectic. But I'm really bad about the shuffle feature, because if I'm not in the mood for a certain song, I skip it. While driving. Bad Kate.

Well, I think I'm going to run off and nap. It's been a helluva day and I don't really feel like talking about the important work-type and life-type stuff going on right now. :) Peace and love, guys.

Puzzle Donkey

All hail PuzzleDonkey!

If you've never played, now's the time to start. Why? Because it's a real mindjob. Think of them as all-American koans and meditate on them freely.

I finished PD1 way-back-when and got halfway through PD2 before getting stuck on a puzzle and "thinking on it" (read: forgetting about it). Now I want to finish up PD2 and get through PDs 3 and 4. I have worked with a team of PD enthusiasts who still got stuck on quite a few puzzles, but my friends tend to think, err, differently from most people.

So get crackin' on PD1 ... we all need to be on the same page by tomorrow, OK? Peace and love.

Saturday night, and you're still hangin' around...

... tired of living in your one-horse town
You'd like to find a little hole in the ground
For a while ...

Okay, technically, it's not Saturday night anymore. But, hey, if I haven't gone to bed yet, does it really count?

I finally felt well enough tonight to sit at my piano without getting a little queasy to my stomach. So I sat and played and played and sat, and every once in a while looked over my shoulder, but no one was there. So I played some Fleetwood, some Elton John and Billy Joel, a little Ben Folds ... even this Maria McKee song, which is hand-written on a stained and splotchy folded-up piece of paper on my music stand.

It felt good to play. Cleansing, like the getting-a-week's-worth-of-sadness-out kind of good. And when the piano was finished (because, as all musicians know, we are merely the tools by which the instrument communicates), my soul felt warm and nourished -- the way one does after warming up to a grilled-cheese sandwich and tomato soup in the middle of winter. And, of course, it made me wonder why I hadn't played my piano all week. I could have been having grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, but instead I was moping and loping from one moment to the next, subsisting on stale zwieback and flat Coke. What was my problem?

Next weekend, I am told, I will be hitting the open road with no particular agenda and no particular place to go. I have already pulled out and dusted off my travel companion, which has traveled more with me than some people do in their whole lifetime. I found a menu stuck in the back of the book from a St. Louis hole-in-the-wall. I became reminiscent. Lord knows after the past three weeks being in charge at work that I deserve a little R&R. I'm thinking of making it a 3-day weekend and heading west to Dallas. Or north to St. Louis (but that's so predictable for me). Or east to Atlanta. I'll pick a map and point.

Well, the sleeping pills are finally kicking in -- both diphen and dox tonight, because I was being indecisive -- so I think I'll go move Dear Hubby over to his side of the bed, crawl under the covers and get some shut-eye. And the iPod's going with me, because I've just added a few hundred more songs (3,188 is my current tally). Certainly there's something I want to listen to in there. Right? ... Anyway, peace and love, guys. Sleep well.

Cravings -- AMENDED

Dammit, I want pizza. And none of that chain crap either. ::sighs:: I suppose I'm out of their delivery area, right?

Amended 6/3/05, 6:38 p.m.

I am also craving the following:

• Tomorrow's goonmeet
• Urban spelunking (got to time it after Matt gets back but before Jer leaves)
• Leveling MK tonight?

Of course, I'd gladly skip the goonmeet if I could convince Paul to point at a map and just go. My wanderlust is growing exponentially.

Several comments, two poems

Hey world! Watch your favorite editrix gnash her teeth right before your very eyes! Sorry about the bitchy tone in my earlier post. Besides the whole missing Matt thing, I've got a lot on my mind (namely that I'm playing boss at work ... while dealing with some harsh med issues).

I guess the stress level lately has kept me from posting about all the amazing things going on in my life, like the following:

• Chris (the upstairs techie dude at work) and I are growing out our hair for Locks of Love. I'm about 2/3 of the way there.
  
• Paul bought me a 30-gig iPod photo. I've imported my MP3s and will start on my AACs soon. (10 gigs -- and nothing I want to listen to?)
  
• I have received the most amazing birthday gifts from the most amazing friends ever. Period. I love you, but you spoil me too much.

Other random things I should mention:

• I'd really like to get to a Ben Folds concert this summer. Anywhere. But Dear Hubby is preparing his prospectus and can't get away. So if you're free and want to road trip (or meet me) somewhere, let me know.
• I need to borrow a four-wheeler. ::grins:: I'm going back to Old Poplar this weekend, and would really like to see the deer up close. Also, I'd like to see the cattle and get over to that place where all the bones are. Yeah. So a four-wheeler. Pronto.

So I figured I'd share a couple of poems while I'm posting. New stuff.

Annealed
From my kitchen window
I sneak a glance at you --
Torch tucked between your taut thighs,
Cigarette dangling from the corner of your lips.
And your seaweed eyes,
which have snapped me back to reality
with their cool resignation
Now dance with conviction
For the orange-blue muse in the flame.
Thank you for folding me up
And stuffing me in your back pocket
through the years.
Thanks for respecting me -- dissecting me --
Teaching me that roadblocks are
of my own device.
And as I watch you now, unnoticed,
A small smile creasing the corner of your mouth,
I realize your wisdom exceeds your years,
Your understanding transcends this life --
But your cigarette glows the way it always has ...
The ashes stuttering downward as you speak,
Glowing as they pass the flame
Then sputtering into gray dust
by your bare feet.

Thoughts on Winter's End
Winter came and you flew south,
Wrapped your still-tired wings around me
So I could nest in the warm.
And still, I took this all for granted,
the olive branches offered at my doorstep
the sole cooing under the cover of night.
But now the sun brings its spring-green atonement,
Now the world stretches and stutters itself awake,
And my gosling, too, has found his way,
Forced open my wings and left the meadow.
And you, too, must begin your northward journey,
Start building your own nest
from strings of memories
and twigs of time --
But I am not yet ready for Capistrano,
Not until you remind me that once upon a time
I, too, could fly.

Quaking

In 1999, in preparation of Y2K, my family stocked an upstairs closet with jugs of water, canned food, first aid supplies, etc. Y2K came and passed ... and eventually those cans of pinto beans made their way to the dinner table.

Then, after September 11, 2001, we restocked the closet (this time throwing in several rolls of duct tape). But, alas, the United States kept the terrorists at bay ... and again, the contents of the closet were slowly depleted (hey, it beats a trip to the grocery store).

Now, it's time to restock the closet.

I live on the New Madrid fault line. In the last few weeks, a number of earthquakes have hit the region (see this map). It's only a matter of time before the city crumbles. And I have no doubt that it would largely crumble, since so many buildings are not earthquake-retrofitted. Why? Because we went 150 years without a serious earthquake ... and builders got a little lax somewhere in the middle there. I work in a converted police stable. Yeah, like a horse stable. No way that thing is going to stand up to even a minor quake. I think I need to go shopping for a stylish -- yet functional -- hard hat. Whatcha think?

Now on to something completely different...

I'm sorry if I came off sounding like the victim in my previous post(s). And I'm sorry if I've made Matt out to be worse than he is. Paul likes him. I like him. He's easy to like. And, at least this morning, I'm getting a little defensive of him because I feel like you guys think he's a monster -- that I've portrayed him some way I shouldn't have.

It looks as if I'm losing another dear friend, who's probably moving away too soon for my liking. Last night, I got in my car and just cried about the whole situation, how this winter has been so amazing and how everything's coming to an end. After half an hour, I had a poem. It's downstairs, but maybe I'll share it later.

I'm defensive because I'm loyal and jealous and stubborn. But mostly loyal. And that makes me sometimes changes my view of reality ... like now.

::sighs:: Running late for work. All my love. Peace.