Friday, August 29, 2003
I always give you what you come here for: hot girl-on-girl action! Thanks, Madonna and Brit-Brit! I would've put Christina up here too but I've gotta save a little something for
whackfodder the archives.
As some of you may know, I take online classes from one of the local colleges here. (See, I told you I was a hermit - it's only like 15 miles from here but I'd rather do the online option.) This semester, all the classes I wanted were full, or they were full 16-week classes and since I'm going to Ireland smack in the middle of the semester and will have spotty internet access during that time, I didn't want to enroll in a full-length class. So instead, I enrolled in the only 8-week class that was open - a philosophy class. Now, I like philosophy, to a degree, but I am having some serious problems motivating myself to read the assigned chapters, because it's goddamn boring material. It's not that I don't understand it - I'm dead fucking brilliant so that's not a problem - but it's that the material is not at all challenging to me. This is the same problem I've always had in school, ever since I was a kid. I was never challenged. It was always too easy. So I'm not sure if I'm going to stick with this class, because I don't know if I can do the reading assignments without falling asleep.
So my Big Plans for this weekend include hanging out with my cat, cleaning my bedroom, and making art. I know you are envious of my wild and exciting lifestyle. I was going to aim for the hermit action again this weekend, but some hotties are coming over and dragging me out to go shopping and maybe take some pictures of urban blight, though we can never seem to find anything that's blighted enough for our taste. Fuck gentrification, man. It's bad for my art.
babbled by Kat @ 1:49:00 PM |
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
Let me begin by saying that I'm really not all that depressed, so you can stop any and all plans to stage an intervention with me. I appreciate all the nice stuff people have been saying to me, though. The depression is mostly organic, however, so all attempts at cheering me up will fail unless they include several million dollars or a full frontal massage.
I was going to try to write something ass-splittingly hilarious to counteract the last post, which was wrist-slittingly depressing, but I'm having a hard time coming up with anything. I have been telling a lot of dead baby jokes lately, but for some reason I don't think they will go over with the general public. Some people like my dead baby jokes, and I love you for it. You know who you are. The rest of you will just have to wait until I can come up with something less offensive. Don't hold your breath, though.
In other news, I am still working on mix CDs and other creative endeavors. I am sorry that I haven't sent you the promised mix CDs yet, but there are reasons, most of which involve how FUCKING HOT it is in my home office, where the CD burner is located. I can only sit in there for so long before my brain starts to melt out of my ears and down the sides of my head, and that starts to get pretty messy after a while so I avoid sitting in there as much as possible. I had to sit in there for a little while during the weekend because I was making enlarged negatives with Photoshop and printing them out so that I could use them for my bitchen artsy projects, but that is all I can handle right now. The brain juice cleanup from just that short session in there was quite time-consuming.
Since I am at home right now fighting off a cold or some other nebulous ailment that is making my body feel as though it has been run over by a steamroller, then reinflated like Christopher Lloyd in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, I am going to stop writing this and go back to lying around and rocking out to Journey.
Don't stop believing.
babbled by Kat @ 3:28:00 PM |
Monday, August 25, 2003
Fun with song lyrics!
Etta James - "At Last"
At last / My love has come along
My lonely days are over / And life is like a song
At last / The skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clovers / The night I looked at you
I found a dream / That I could speak to / A dream that I can call my own
I found a thrill / To rest my cheek to / A thrill that I have never known
You smile, you smile / Oh, and then the spell is cast
And then after a little while reality sinks in and the initial glow fades away and we start seeing each other as we really are instead of the idealized visions that we had created in our minds and we start getting annoyed by each other's odd little habits and quirks and we start making fun of each other to our friends behind our backs and then we start complaining to our friends about all the shortcomings our partner had that we had never noticed before and we start bitching about how the other person has changed and isn't the same person we fell in love with but every once in a while one of us does something that reminds the other one of the beginning of the relationship when we were all starry-eyed and ass-over-tit in love and so we stay in the relationship even though the rest of the time we are miserable and before you know it 40 years have gone by and we are both looking back on our unfulfilled lives and thinking about how we wished we'd done things differently but now it's too late to start over and we're kind of used to each other anyway now that we don't really talk anymore and there's always a plentiful supply of vodka martinis (shaken not stirred) at the ready and even though we are both totally miserable and feel like we've wasted our lives we still look at each other sometimes and remember the very beginning when everything was warm and rosy and beautiful and we think
For you are mine at last.
babbled by Kat @ 2:24:00 PM |
Sunday, August 24, 2003
You may be wondering where I've been for the past few days. Alternatively, you may have been content to stare at that photo of Angelina Jolie for hours on end. Nobody ever said I didn't provide nice eye candy for you people to look at when you're waiting for one of my eagerly anticipated yet infrequently posted babblefests.
I've been in a weird mood lately. Well, "mood" isn't really the right word for it. Basically, I've become somewhat of a hermit. Or, as Rahim would say, an "internet hermit". In other words, I like to keep my real-life interactions with the outside world to an absolute minimum, but I still get online and talk to people, mostly fellow internet hermits. I've been forced to leave the house for things like food and work, but other than that I mostly stay in my cavelike loft, lit only by the soft glow of my computer monitor. I've been somewhat productive while I've been in hermit mode - I've sorted through lots of crap and thrown some out (though I haven't taken anything down to the dumpster in a couple of days, because that would require going outside), I've read an insane amount, and I've done some photo printing that I'm pretty happy with. My cat is also happy with this arrangement, because he is very needy and likes to have visual or tactile contact with a human at all times. He's a little annoyed with how much attention I pay to my laptop, though.
In any case, I have successfully avoided leaving my house for the last 46 hours. I was going to wait until it got to 48 hours before I went to the store, but I'm really hungry, and for some reason when I went to the store on Friday I seemed to be really fond of chicken caesar salad, because that is all I have left to eat. Next time I embark on one of these little semi-antisocial events, I will be better prepared with an assortment of food items to get me through at least 48, if not 72 hours of total internet hermitdom. Now, if I could only figure out a way to get my boss to let me telecommute every day, all I'd need to do is have my groceries and other items delivered to me, and then I'd never have to leave the house again.
Sounds perfect to me.
babbled by Kat @ 4:03:00 PM |
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
My life is just a whirlwind of neverending excitement.
Last night, my laptop made a desperate suicide attempt right before my eyes. I was installing a service pack, and all was going along smoothly, and then suddenly, it happened - my sweet, loving laptop completely froze mid-install. No keyboard response. No mouse response. Nothing. I pleaded and cajoled and cursed fate and made unholy promises to Beelzebub in a desperate attempt to avoid the inevitable, but eventually I had to do a hard reboot. (No, that's not as dirty as it sounds.) Of course, since I'd been in the middle of updating the operating system when it crashed, the wildly suicidal laptop would not boot. It would get all the way up to the "loading Windows" screen and then it would recycle and start the boot process over again. No amount of messing with the recovery processes was helping, and I was beginning to think all was lost. However, I was able to boot the machine using a Linux boot CD, so I knew that there was a tiny glimmer of hope left for recovery. Then, I found the installation CD for the operating system and made two attempts at a repair installation. The second was successful. So now the laptop is purring away, behaving the way a good little laptop should. It was touch and go for a while there, though. The lappy was on the edge of a cliff, but I managed to pull it back just before it plummeted to certain death on the rocks below.
God, I'm weird.
In another ridiculously exciting episode, I actually left the house this weekend and braved the wilds of everyone's favorite suburban furniture warehouse, IKEA. Usually, I will not go to IKEA alone if I can avoid it, but I just could not stand to look at the unbearably stark, bare, rugless floors of my loft any longer. So I forced myself to get into my yuppiemobile and drive up to Burbank to mingle with the blond, tanned suburbanites and upwardly mobile gay couples at the Swedish superstore.
Fortunately, I found that the experience was not as horrifying as I'd pictured it would be. I was able to successfully navigate my way to the rug section, and as luck would have it, a whole assload of their Persian rugs were on sale. I dug through the larger ones and located a beautiful red and black one at a significantly discounted price. Really, I know this sounds retarded, but I am just fucking tickled by this purchase. It looks perfect in my living room, my cat likes it, and I can now resume the practice of making little fists with my toes in a soft wool rug. It's those little pleasures that make life great. Perhaps if my laptop had had the opportunity to make toe-fists in a rug, it wouldn't have attempted seppuku.
babbled by Kat @ 9:16:00 AM |
Monday, August 18, 2003
My friends are helping me come up with plans for my evil empire. Observe, Stephen's contribution:
I think you should make an eyepatch for your cat. Something in a deep red with bright yellow, hypno-swirls on it. So when he bobs his head at people their eyes go all woffly and they stand there slack jawed, ready to do your bidding as willing slaves. Just think of the Evil Overlord potential. "Of course, Mr. Bond, you might be able to defeat me and my minions, but first, don't you want to (cue dramatic music) SEE MY PUSSY?"
See? I told you I have the coolest friends ever.
babbled by Kat @ 1:55:00 PM |
Saturday, August 16, 2003
There is a light that never goes out:
It is so hot in my apartment that I started sweating right after I stepped out of my freezing cold shower. SO SEXY.
As you know, I do most of my thinking in the shower, and while I was in there I thought of something that I wanted to write down right now so I didn't forget it. I have had the pleasure of having some great conversations with my family and friends in the last few days, and those conversations just reminded me how motherfucking lucky I am to have such kickass family members and such terrific friends. Observe:
My mother and I spoke on Wednesday night so that she could wish me a happy birthday and we could chat like moms and daughters should. I told her that I had a pretty cool birthday because it was so laid back. Even though I joke here about everyone sending me presents, I really don't like to make a huge deal out of my birthday because I really don't think it was much of an accomplishment on my part. I mean, come on, all I did was exit someone's womb. I think my mom deserves all the credit. She's the one who had to shove my giant, nearly 9 lb. self out of her uterus. So I say, on your next birthday, send your mom a present. That giving birth shit hurts, you know.
Anyway, while we were talking we stumbled across the subject of my sexuality. This is the part of the conversation when I swelled with pride at how cool my mom is. She has always been pro gay rights, and when I told her that I was dating a woman when Liz and I started getting serious, she was totally cool with it. I explained to her that I was bisexual, that I wasn't "switching sides", and that I'd always been this way - that basically I fell in love with an individual, regardless of gender, race, etc. Not only does she totally understand that, she thinks it's really cool. She said those exact words, "I think that's so cool." No, Mom - you're the one that's cool.
Also, I would like to give props to my best friend Shane. He has spent a lot of time on the phone with me lately, listening to me bitch about stuff and run scenarios past him and try to hammer out major life decisions, and he's never once complained about me yammering in his ear about my lameass problems. He also whipped out some serious logic (heh, heh, I said "whipped out") and talked me out of spending a grand on a camera that I wanted to take with me to Ireland and offered to let me borrow his sexy, heavy Russian camera. Plus, he's really hot and nobody else looks better in a pair of leather pants, and that is a quality that all best friends should have.
So basically, for the last week and a half, I've just been appreciating the fact that I have some really amazing friends and family, and I think it's about time I started telling them how much I appreciate them. So expect more sappy shit like this in the future.
Don't worry, though - I'll still spout the usual vitriol, misanthropy, and general malaise on a regular basis.
babbled by Kat @ 6:03:00 PM |
Thursday, August 14, 2003
Burning from the inside:
There is something about being extraordinarily busy at work and having a lot of shit going on in your personal life that will literally suck the creative energy right out of you. It is like some giant entity has walked up to me and inserted a giant crazy straw into the creative center of my brain and just sucked it all out, kind of like that one scene in Starship Troopers, except I didn't die or get to fuck Denise Richards.
In order to force myself to think creatively and start making some goddamned art already, I am going to start building out a darkroom in my house this weekend. I really want to start doing my own prints, and I also figure that being in a closed room with a bunch of toxic chemicals will help to make me even more creative. It might make me more insane, too, but you know, I'm just suffering for my art, man.
I'm also planning out my trip to Ireland, England, and Scotland in the fall. My ultimate goal is to look up a couple of old friends that I have over there on the Emerald Isle and get them to let me stay with them, for two reasons: 1) I like doing things the locals do, not what the tourists do, and 2) it's way cheaper than staying at a hotel. England and Scotland are already covered because I'm staying with my friend Emma and she has promised to cart me around and show me some really kickass stuff and be patient while I take thousands of photos of everything, God bless her. I am really looking forward to this trip, because the last time I was in England and Ireland it was for business, and I didn't really get to see anything except parts of London and most of Dublin. I want to go wander the countryside and hang out with wizened old Gaelic-speakers and drink peated whisky and climb around ancient castles and stand in the middle of a misty expanse of green moss and take photos of all of it so I can remember it forever.
In the meantime, I'll try and get right on that darkroom stuff so the chemicals can start getting to my brain and making me all goofy. Hilarity will ensue, I'm sure of it.
babbled by Kat @ 10:50:00 AM |
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
You say it's your birthday:
Colin Farrell keeps giving me shit for not having any photos of him on my site, seeing as how we're like best friends and stuff. So I told him that I was waiting till the best day of the year (aka my birthday) to put up his photo, but really it's so that he'll stop pestering me. I mean, he is dreamy and everything, but a girl can only take so much begging.
This weekend in New York was fan-fucking-tastic. I do feel kind of like I got flattened out by a steamroller and then reinflated like a cartoon character, and my liver is threatening mutiny, but other than that I had a good time. I will now proceed to give you a detailed account of the weekend's activities, but keep in mind that several details may be missing due to the fact that I consumed at least double my weight in single malt scotch in a three-day period. But, remember, what doesn't kill your brain cells makes them stronger. Or something.
The flight on Friday was uneventful, though I did get to sit in the section formerly known as business class, and so I was able to sleep and relax and put my feet up because they have bitchen footrests in business class. I was picked up by my good friend Adam in his swanky Mercedes, and we promptly drove to the city and had drinks, but not enough drinks to alert my liver to the impending doom that was about to befall it. (I'm sorry, liver.)
On Saturday, after blissfully sleeping in late in air-conditioned comfort, I headed down to the easssside to visit my home skillet Tony and my sista-girl Kerry and the two wayward lesbians that Tony had chillin' in his crib. (I sooo can't pull off sentences like that. But I keep trying, and that's pure comedy gold.) We spent the day eating, shopping, and schvitzing like R. Kelly in a schoolyard because it was so humid. We then had dinner with the sugar daddy and I got to play the role of sugar momma. Then we got our drink on, and my liver shouted obscenities at me all night.
I awoke on Sunday feeling like I'd been kicked in the nads, and since I don't actually have nads, you can imagine how shitty I felt. Kerry and I spent some time walking around and sweating like a priest in a boys' school, and after we said our tearful goodbyes I headed back to the hotel to meet up with Rahim. Against my liver's better judgement, we spent most of the evening drinking scotch, until I was somewhat incoherent. I awoke the next morning feeling like I'd had my ass kicked a couple of dozen times, while my liver screamed bloody murder and threatened to jump ship.
Somehow I managed to recover from the Ultimate Hangover and squeeze in a visit to my old office, where I was greeted with mild enthusiasm and shocked surprise, and had lunch with my homepiece Jake. Adam took me back to the airport, where I proceeded to get through security in record time only to have to wait to take off for two extra freakin' hours. After what seemed like an eternity on the plane, I finally got home to my cavernous, empty apartment just in time for my the clock to strike midnight, indicating the official start of my birthday.
So, in conclusion, I had a really great mini-vacation in NYC, though my liver would probably beg to differ. I think it was a great end to my 28th year. Now make with the presents and help me kick off the 29th year properly.
babbled by Kat @ 11:31:00 AM |
Friday, August 08, 2003
I wanna be a part of it:
I'm off to New York City this afternoon. I'll tell you all about it on Tuesday!
babbled by Kat @ 11:04:00 AM |
Tuesday, August 05, 2003
No one knows:
In an effort to maintain content on this site, I am plaigiarizing an old entry from my IAM.BME journal. Enjoy!
Some random facts about me:
I consider caffeine to be a life-giving substance.
I own thirty pairs of Gap cotton thong panties and two pairs of Hello Kitty panties.
No, you can't see them.
I am mildly obsessed with baseball. If it is playoff season, I am frighteningly obsessed.
I own over a hundred and fifty movies.
Five of them are Ed Wood movies.
Seven of them are vampire movies.
I study theology in my spare time.
I have some skeletons in my closet, along with lots of shoes and way too many Banana Republic sweater sets.
I wear my emotions on my sleeve.
I sing in the shower.
I sing in the car.
I watch must-see TV.
I collect shot glasses, comic books, and vintage cameras.
There are 5 computers in my home office.
I just touched my left nipple.
babbled by Kat @ 10:56:00 AM |
Monday, August 04, 2003
Pretty soon I'll be living alone, a fact which for some reason hadn't really sunk in until this past weekend. Maybe that realization had to swim through a river in Egypt, or something. Anyway, after I sat around for a while thinking about how much my life differs from what I want it to be, I realized that when I am alone in that loft I am going to need to do a lot of decorating, because I really don't have all that much furniture, and the furniture I do have is kind of blah and mass-produced, and so I think I should do something to remedy that. The first thing I did after deciding to go on my redecorating spree was to promptly sit down and watch a marathon of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" on Bravo, followed by several episodes of "Trading Spaces" on TLC. In the process of watching these two fine examples of modern television programming, I realized that a) redecorating can be expensive, and b) the Grooming Guy is way hot.
In any case, I've decided that I need to be really inventive and creative when I redecorate, because I can't afford to spend tons of money, but I don't want my place to look all bleak and empty, which it will in a couple of weeks. So, my local friends can expect me to rope them into helping me paint and lift stuff, and my non-local friends can expect.. well, nothing, really. You guys are off the hook for now.
In other news, I have an article to finish writing before I jet off to lovely New Yawk City this weekend, so there is a chance that I will not be posting much this week, because when I am channeling all of my energy into tech writing, my creative writing goes down the shitter. So depending on how motivated (read: amped up on Rock Star) I can get in the next couple of days to finish the article, I may create a couple more fantastically funny and wildly entertaining blog entries. If not, I may post something late Friday morning saying, "DEAR GOD, HELP ME! Oh, the deadlines!" I guess only time will tell.
babbled by Kat @ 2:40:00 PM |