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Thursday, April 29, 2004

Do you need a woman to look after you:

There's a reason I named my comic book company Bedhead PressThere's nothing like a budding relationship to get me to look inward and start completely overanalyzing everything. Sometimes this is bad, because I can talk myself into things I wouldn't normally do and/or talk myself out of things I initialy wanted to do. Sometimes it's good, though, because I end up figuring things out about my relationship patterns that are verrry interesting. In fact, I'm formulating a hypothesis at this very moment. Once I have finalized it after some more lengthy overanalysis, I will unleash it upon you. Be warned.

Tonight I'm off to lovely Philadelphia for my friend Shawn's wedding. I will be surrounded by people I love, many of whom will be drunk and/or naked. It will be fabulous. I am bringing two cameras - one film, for the rehearsal dinner & wedding, and one digital, for the bachelor party. We don't want those bachelor party images going to the photo lab. I mean, it would give a thrill to the cute photo lab guy I always go to, but in the interest of keeping us all unincarcerated, I think I'll just keep them in an erasable format.

I'll be in Philly until Monday evening, then home for three days, then I turn right back around and go to Boston for a week. I am really looking forward to the Boston trip, because I will get to spend time with a beautiful princess and see my cousin and wander around one of my favorite cities and geek out super hard. I'm speaking at a techie conference there, so when I'm at the conference hotel bar, I'm going to test out my geek pick-up lines like "I wanna -rm -rf yourpants" and "Whaddya say I sniff your packets and flood your port?" I'll be sure to let you all know how well that goes over.

babbled by Kat @ 2:17:00 PM | |

Monday, April 26, 2004

Talk to me, dance with me:

church sign fun!I would just like to inform you that I have never been busier in my entire life. I have a full-time job that is getting fuller every day, I have a conference to prepare for, I am going to my big brother's wedding in a few days, I have a lot of side projects and I have a couple of good friends who I can hang out with all day long and it feels like it was just 10 minutes, because they are so fucking rad and fun to spend time with. In order to keep up with all of this, I am going to invent a device that alters my brain so that it only requires one hour of sleep per day. I mean, I could just sleep for one hour per day anyway, but I would probably start acting even more retarded than I do already, and that might make the universe implode.

Anyway, this weekend I resurrected laptop #2 from the dead with a spiffy new hard drive. I think I'm going to name it Lazarus. I also spent a good chunk of money at the electronics store and at ThinkGeek purchasing accessories for said laptop such as a USB keyring, a remote control mouse thing for doing PowerPoint presentations and a new laptop case. The latter two items made me so happy that I am beginning to worry about myself. Fuck it, who am I kidding, I'm a raging geekazoid and that's why all you fuckers love me so much. Well, that, and my perky butt, but who's keeping track?

Speaking of ThinkGeek, I highly recommend them. I have literally never had a customer service experience quite as stellar as the one I experienced from them. I placed an order at 2:00 on Thursday and I had all my geeky stuff in my grubby little hands by 10 a.m. on Friday, all packed quite efficiently and for a very reasonable shipping fee. Plus, how the fuck can you go wrong with a place that sells Milton's stapler?

Anyway, it's so fucking hot in my loft right now that I am sitting in my living room with two fans pointed directly at me, wearing nothing but a Justice League of America button-front denim shirt. This has left me feeling quite comfortable, and I'm getting a lot of work done on this VMWare/RedHat thing I'm working on, so I think I will be doing a lot more of my work this way. Besides, everyone knows that no pants = higher productivity. It's a proven scientific fact.

babbled by Kat @ 9:08:00 PM | |

Thursday, April 22, 2004

Love will tear us apart:

To the proprietors of Match.com:

Thank you so much for your e-mail! You really do seem concerned for my well-being. I am touched by your desire to keep me from being lonely. I am moved that you not only want me to find true love, but are willing to tell me exactly how to do so! I'm sure your motives are completely altruistic, and I have been convinced by the helpful testimonials you have included in your multiple messages that you have helped thousands of people find that one person who is perfect for them.

However, while I appreciate your offers to help me find my soul mate, I will have to respectfully decline your assistance. You see, while I do spend an awful lot of time in front of the computer where I receive your endless outpourings of concern for my love life, I do get up and go out and interact with people in real life. I do this quite often, in fact! Sometimes, this leads to me meeting people who I would be interested in dating. Imagine that! Other times, it leads to non-romantic friendships, which is great, too. What a concept! In fact, while I'm sure there are people out there who are actively hunting wabbits for a soul mate, I am content with my life the way it is, and occasionally pleasantly surprised by meeting someone to whom I am attracted. I know, it may be shocking to you that there is someone out there who is not consumed by the desire to locate their one true love, but it's true.

So, again, thank you for your concern, but please don't worry about me so much. All that fretting can't be healthy.

babbled by Kat @ 3:35:00 PM | |

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

One bourbon, one scotch, one beer:

I was chastised for not mentioning one of the best highlights of the Artwalk: the drunk guy on the street. See, if you look in the photo in yesterday's post, you can see a big giant window behind my pretty little head. That big giant window faces Main Street. On Saturday afternoon, there was a dude walking down Main Street, all drunkified, arguing with his girlfriend. Then he decided it would be a good idea to lie down in the street and roll around. After his horrified girlfriend finally got him to stop doing that, he proceeded to continue down the street, and when I say "continue down the street", I mean "wander in the middle of the road yelling and waving his arms at the passing vehicles". One car stopped, and Drunky Drunkerson started yelling at the driver, and the passenger got out, and at this point there were six of us crowded into my window staring down the street, rooting for him to continue flipping out within our line of sight. What can I say? There's never a dull moment in my neighborhood!

Later that evening, we talked to a guy who told us that he'd talked to Captain Drunktacular earlier at a party that was going on during the Artwalk. Apparently he was a frustrated screenwriter or some other creative type, got really drunk, spilled wine all over himself, and left. That's when he put on his nice live street theater performance for us.

Bravo, Mr. Drunkster. I salute you for flailing about in the street for our amusement.

babbled by Kat @ 10:13:00 AM | |

Monday, April 19, 2004

And the mist will wrap around us:

MeI had the best weekend ever in the history of all good weekends. It was so good that I am almost afraid to write about it, because everything is going so well right now that I will probably jinx myself and end up getting audited by the IRS, sent to prison for something I didn't do, beaten and stabbed by a roving pack of flatulent spider monkeys, or befriended by Carrot Top. However, because I love each and every one of my readers and because you are all not only incredibly witty, intelligent, and good-looking, but also really patient with my wildly varying posting frequency, I will give you some vague highlights, in hopes of appeasing your curiosity while also avoiding jinxation. Just remember, if I end up screwing up my good luck and you start seeing photos of me with Carrot Top in the Enquirer, it's all your fault.

This weekend I: led Grant, Jill, Jeff, Jay, Wil, and Cybele around the Brewery artwalk at various times and speeds; played with toys; did not sleep alone; bought this and another piece from Kevin; ate far too many carbohydrates and not nearly enough sushi; bought some metal art from Alex; witnessed the resurrection of the leg warmer as fashion accessory; bought a painting from one of my favorite painters ever, CJ Kang; and felt incredibly comfortable, content, and happy despite having attained phlegm production levels that neared mythic proportions.

Perhaps this run of good luck is the universe's way of making things up to me after I was sick all last week. If so, I will gladly engage in phlegm production on a regular basis in order to ensure the continuation of my incredible string of good fortune. Luck of the Irish, indeed.

I know I didn't do this weekend justice, but believe me when I say it was so amazing that I am still not entirely convinced that I wasn't dreaming.

babbled by Kat @ 2:13:00 PM | |

Thursday, April 15, 2004

She's crafty, and she's just my type:

I would just like to take this opportunity to announce that I am no longer bisexual. From now on, I will be known as a libertine who, instead of "having sex", engages in a series of actionable items. Make sure you update your surveillance files (yes, I'm talking to you, Herr Ashcroft).

I would also like to tell everyone who lives within a reasonable driving distance from downtown Los Angeles that the Brewery Artwalk is this weekend. I will not have my studio open this time, but I do have a piece in the I-5 Gallery group show. I think that you should show up purely to stalk me see that one piece, but while you are there you can check out some of the really kickass art that my friends and neighbors have created. If that doesn't get you to show up, maybe fire-breathing robots will. (I'm not kidding. He really does have fire-breathing robots. My neighbors are soooo much cooler than yours.)

babbled by Kat @ 10:56:00 AM | |

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

Dance the ghost with me:

I have this ancient laptop that I use to write many of my totally fascinating posts here at the ol' Fez, and I must say, it has held up pretty well over the years. It may have a tiny hard drive, no integrated ethernet (!) and an inability to support more than 512 MB of RAM, but it's got a DVD drive, supports my wireless card, and serves quite nicely as a jukebox for special occasions. However, I may have to rethink where I keep it, because it is about 15 feet from my window, which faces a major street and is quite close to a major freeway, and so a lot of street schmutz comes in the window. I fear that the street schmutz that is undoubtedly taking years off my life will also contribute to the downfall of my poor old laptop. Therefore, I will protect it with an air purifier, because clearly my laptop's inner workings are far more important than my lungs continuing to function. I say this as a rather stinky large truck just wheezed a good chunk of diesel fumes into my loft. Yum.

In other news, tonight I had a lovely dinner with a new friend, which included the consumption of large amounts of raw fish, spirited discussion about baseball, and random Sisters of Mercy references. Since my friend and I returned to the Brewery after the fun sushi action, I am certain that yet another rumor has already surfaced, which is fine, because I think that from now on I am just going to embrace the rumors and start making up new ones about myself. However, instead of the regular old rumors like "oh my god, she left the bar with so-and-so, clearly they are sleeping together", I will make up excellent ones like "Kathleen is pregnant with Eddie Izzard's love child" and "I totally saw Katherine Moennig leaving Kathleen's place at 3 a.m. with a big hickey on her neck". I will know if this is successful because one of my neighbors would totally punch me if I got to make out with Kate Moennig and she didn't, so I figure I will gauge my rumormongering success by whether or not she punches me in the near future.

Lastly, I would be remiss if I did not chastise you, my dear reader(s), for not commenting enough. You keep asking me to bring back the photos of the hot ladies in my posts, so I did on Sunday, and what did I get? Two. Freakin'. Comments. Come on, now, people. I know you can do better than that. What do I have to do? Mention that I like the Yankees? Talk about my masturbation habits? Post some pussy* photos? Rant about spelling and grammar? Tell you about my torrid love affair with Eddie Izzard? Tell me. I'm totally willing to sell out** for comments.

* I meant of my cat, you perverts. Get your minds out of the gutter.
** To a degree - I mean, I'm not going to start liking the Braves or something horrible like that.

babbled by Kat @ 4:21:00 AM | |

Sunday, April 11, 2004

You can call me lazy, but I know where I belong:

You asked for hot chicks, I give 'em to you.This weekend was chock-full of action-packed excitement. Allow me to tell you the fantastical tales of debauchery, adventure, and tomfoolery that occurred. You may not believe some of them, because they sound too amazing to be true, but I assure you, they are not fiction - nay, they are indeed fact!

On Friday evening, I entered a mystical structure called the Millenium Biltmore hotel and located a mysterious place in it called the "bar". At this wondrous "bar", I encountered many mythical creatures who, it turns out, are indeed real and not merely legends who exist only in fairy tales. I know, because I shook hands with many of them and was even "dude"-ed by one or two. The evening was fraught with spirited debate, fascinating conversation, and copious amounts of intoxicating beverages. It was capped off with a lovely and spontaneous trip to the local watering hole with two friends, which is sure to spark off many a rumor in the hallowed halls of the Brewery about my alleged copulation practices. Fear not, gentle readers, I did not engage in any untoward activities, much less take on two beastly stallions on my own. Such activity would be far too much for my fragile consititution to bear.

Saturday was spent whiling away the hours with whimsical abandon. I engaged in many relaxing and enjoyable activities such as monitoring server activity, changing settings on upwards of 400 databases, and running other server maintenance to ensure a smooth transition to a new database distribution on Monday morning. These activities were made all the more pleasant by the fact that my office chair, while quite charming in its own way, makes one's back feel as though it was trampled on by a stampeding pack of rabid wildebeests. After spending the bulk of my Saturday performing such restful, calming activities, I was momentarily distracted by a short trip to my favorite sushi restaurant. I proceeded to consume roughly two times my body weight in raw fish, after which I returned to my home office to resume my Sisyphean tasks. After completing them (as well as three quarters of a bottle of wine), I fell into a deep, restful slumber, all the better to prepare myself for the following day's activities.

I spent the bulk of Sunday diligently rolling the system maintenance rock up the hill over and over again, while simultaneously attempting to finish some damnable PowerPoint presentations for an upcoming hootenany. These presentations, which once brought joy and light into my life, have quickly become the bane of my existence, and though I once loved them fiercely, I am now beginning to hate them with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns. However, this blinding, intense hatred has given me the motivation to kick their proverbial asses and complete them with such quality and efficiency as to render all who read them mute with awe. I expect to accomplish this with the help of some Chinese take-out, several copious servings of Pinot Grigio, and some Sapphic inspiration.

I hope to have a slightly less action-packed week, but my hopes for that are slim to none. If you hear a shriek of exasperation coming from the direction of downtown Los Angeles, send emergency supplies, such as single-malt scotch or a small army of masseuses, posthaste.

babbled by Kat @ 7:54:00 PM | |

Thursday, April 08, 2004


So I'm watching ER right now, and Carrie's partner Sandy just got wheeled in to the ER with burns and other injuries. To give a bit of backstory to those who don't watch it, Carrie used to be an ER doctor and is now head of something or other at the hospital, and Sandy is her lesbian partner. They have a baby, and Sandy is the biological mother. Sandy's mother thinks they are gross nasty perverts. Sandy's mother is currently babysitting while all of this is going on.

I can tell you right now what is going to happen. Sandy is going to die, Carrie will want to keep her child, and Sandy's mom is going to fight for custody because she thinks Carrie is a dirty lesbo perv. While I know that this will bring the plight of same-sex parents to the masses, it's still just suuuch a fucking predictable plotline. Plus, I was totally rooting for one of the only visible lesbian couples on prime time television. Their first kiss ruled, and dear fucking Christ, I hope I'm wrong and this won't be their last.

Update: Yep, she died. Let's watch the custody battle ensue! (Which, of course, will cause me to get all political and fiery.)

Update #2: And of course the family won't let Carrie even fucking see the baby. I hope this crap makes people who think that same-sex marriages and same-sex parents are immoral see the freaking light, already. However, I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt even though they continually give me reason not to.

babbled by Kat @ 10:21:00 PM | |

Sweet dreams are made of this:

Last night I went out to dinner with a good friend and ate so much that I felt like I was pregnant with a food baby. It was excellent food, though, so it was totally worth it even though I don't think I will be hungry again until at least January of 2005.

In other news, I have been having some of the weirdest, most fucked-up dreams lately, and fuck if I can figure out why. For example, the other night I had a dream where my friend was doing my hair, and she was blowdrying my hair straight, but got distracted partway through and left me with half-curly, half-straight hair. So, since she was busy but we had plans to go out after she got done working, I left and went to this old house, which I apparently owned but rented out to my cousin. I haven't seen that particular cousin in like 3 years, but I have had a dream involving that house and renting it out to her before. Anyway, her husband got in my face because it was January 15th and he wanted to know if I had stayed home even though my company didn't give us the day off for MLK day, and I said no, and he started yelling at me about it, and I threatened to evict them. Then I was suddenly hiking on a mountain looking for shards of Native American pottery with a bunch of dudes in khaki shorts. And my hair was 100% curly again.

Lesson learned: my subconscious is fucking weird.

This weekend, I am playing hostess for a friend who is coming to town. I am sure that my cat and I will provide a delightful and comfortable experience for my friend. We will be wandering around town seeing the sights. (The guest and I, not the cat.) However, I have to spend the bulk of Saturday working. I think I may just have to hand over the keys to my car and pray to the little baby Jesus that the asshats aren't out on the freeways. Since little baby Jesus is getting all the good mojo this weekend from all the people celebrating an ancient pagan fertility goddess his resurrection, I bet he'll direct some anti-asshat vibes my way.

babbled by Kat @ 11:24:00 AM | |

Monday, April 05, 2004

Neutralize every man in sight:

It's time for more fun, random facts about my favorite person - me! Enjoy.

  • My name means "pure" and "virginal". No, seriously.

  • If I had been a boy, my father would have named me Aloicious Jedediah. This is one of many reasons why I'm glad I don't have a penis.

  • There is a spider that lives in a web in the corner of the hallway just outside my front door. Every time I leave or come home and I open the door or make some other sudden movement, he kind of jumps and moves away a little bit. I respond by telling him "Don't worry, spider dude. I'm not going to hurt you." This means I'm "eccentric".

  • At one point, I owned the domain name partiallygaydivorcee.com. Because I am one.

  • I am a total baseball nut, and because baseball season started today, and there are games in progress right now, I am having to physically force myself not to open a new tab in my favorite browser and start streaming games, or at least monitoring scores. I have had to actually slap my own wrist today. I'm sure that is doing wonders for my coworkers' opinions of my mental health.

  • When I am driving, if someone cuts me off or otherwise displays random asshattedness, I will yell at them, many times with improvised combination curse words. One of my favorites is "cock-knocking son of a crack whore".

  • People mistake the above for road rage. I prefer to call it "mobile Janovian therapy".

  • My pants are tight, and that's okay.

    Good lord. I am wayyyy too fond of bulleted and iterative lists. Just look at my posting history. Jesus. I should kick my own ass.

    babbled by Kat @ 2:53:00 PM | |

    I love myself better than you:

    Today is the 10th anniversary of Kurt Cobain's death, which you probably know because everyone else is talking about it. I am not going to talk about it, I'm just going to spend the day listening to Nirvana on my headphones while I'm working. Fun times.

    On Saturday I went to a microbrewery festival thing at the Santa Anita racetrack. It was fun, but I haven't seen that many bad fashion trends all in one place since the '80s. Apparently, pleated miniskirts are back, as are super chunky stripey highlights for the hair and I swear I saw at least one girl wearing leg warmers. I hope to god she was a dancer of some sort, because I just do not want to see that trend return.

    After the beery fun, I went to the movies with a friend. We saw The Ladykillers, which I really liked. The character that Tom Hanks plays will probably annoy some people, because he's all intellectual and long-winded, but I liked him. The one nitpick I have is that at the beginning, there are a few scenes that don't really make sense at all, but keep watching - they all tie in after about 10 minutes.

    I spent yesterday helping a friend with some editorial stuff and attempting to move this blog to Movable Type. MT is all installed and configured, and all of my old Blogger posts have been imported, but the way that Blogger exports stuff screws up all the formatting. That means I have to go back and edit over 250 posts to get the formatting corrected. This is a fairly low priority, so I may just move the current stuff to MT and leave the blogger archives intact for now. I am sure that you would all be completely inconsolable were my archives to disappear, and I don't want to make my loyal readers cry, so never fear, I will figure out a solution that works for everyone.

    babbled by Kat @ 11:20:00 AM | |

    Thursday, April 01, 2004

    Doomed to crumble unless we grow:

    I came up with another really good idea for a creative project while I was driving to work today, and I started wondering why I always come up with good ideas when I am doing mindless activities. I used to think I only came up with good ideas in the shower, which led me to think that I only come up with good ideas when I am naked, and I attributed that to the fact that my naked body is mind-bogglingly inspirational. However, then I realized that I also come up with good ideas when I am washing the dishes or vacuuming, which led me to think that perhaps cleaning things (or people) is what inspires me to come up with brilliant ideas. Then I remembered that I fucking hate cleaning because I am a lazy motherfucker. After that, I realized that I was really coming up with great ideas when I was doing something totally mindless that didn't require any thinking, like reading Ann Coulter or operating heavy machinery, which led me to think that I should really never actually do anything, because then I'll just come up with brilliant ideas all the time, sell the ideas to people who are nowhere near as lazy as I am, and live in the lap of luxury for the rest of my days.

    babbled by Kat @ 5:26:00 PM | |