Saturday, July 30, 2005
Something's gotta turn out right:
I just wrote an entire entry about how grumpy I am and all the things I want to do that are half-finished because I've been paralyzed by whatever it is that paralyzes me occasionally, and then I realized how fucking lame that was, so I deleted all that whiny crap. Instead of sitting here wallowing in my own bullshit and complaining, I'm going to get off my ass and go get shit done. I know that means taking a shower, putting pants on, and going outside, but sometimes a person must compromise their personal principles for the greater good.
I'm going to give myself a facial and a pedicure, head to the drugstore to purchase hair dye and madacide, and go to a BBQ where I'll be using a blowgun to shoot darts at a stripper's ass. Who said my life wasn't fulfilling?
babbled by Kat @ 4:42:00 PM |
Friday, July 29, 2005
Wanted dead or alive:
Stuff and things, in a convenient bulleted list:
Today is my friend Wil's birthday. Wil has been a fucking awesome friend to me and has helped me through some really weird shit. He is also a really kickass person to do road trips, poker, and Hooters visits with. Happy birthday, g.
My pal Amanda will be performing at Cirque Berzerk this weekend. If you're in the L.A. area, you should go see her. She'll be the chick with wings in her back. Tell her she's hot and touch her bum. She loves that.
I totally can't remember the third thing. Senility rules!
I'm working on many new projects. Expect my senility/ADD to increase.
babbled by Kat @ 8:44:00 PM |
Friday, July 22, 2005
I'm not taking a hiatus. What you witnessed below was the result of several hours of very intense emotional fuckedupness that went really late into the night. Sorry about that.
I took all of last week off work and spent time with some of the most wonderful people I know. Existing friendships were strengthened and new friendships were forged. I can't even begin to describe how much spending time with all of you meant to me.
This past weekend, my big brother came out to visit and we headed down to San Diego for the nerd prom. There were way too many people there. So we decided that next year, we will go down to San Diego, skip the convention, and just have our friends over to our hotel room to drink and lose their pants.
We came back up to L.A. on Sunday and had a BBQ on the roof. It was planned a long time ago, because my big brother, ex-boyfriend, and two other hot people were all in town and at my place, and I wanted to give our mutual friends an opportunity to ogle their goodies. But since a lot of the people who were coming happened to know Keith, it turned into a memorial. We went to the liquor store down the street (called S&M Liquor!) and got a 40 of Olde English to pour out, and all gathered around to say a few things about our friend.
So, since I usually deal with pain, sadness, and strife with completely inappropriate humor, I'll be sure to get back to posting stuff about fisting celebrities pretty soon. You might have to wait till I'm done with this, um, project I'm working on, though, because it's far easier to type when you don't have your hand in someone.
babbled by Kat @ 12:47:00 PM |
My friends are all grieving in their own ways. So am I. I don't know what to say or do, because the truth is, nothing anyone can say or do will help. Grief is grief. The reason that people are uncomfortable when their friends are faced with grief, especially people who have experienced it, is that they know that they can't possibly do anything to ease your pain. All they can do is listen and be there for you. But they can't really make anything better. Nothing makes it better.
That said, I'm going to withdraw for a few days. Anyone who needs/wants to can call or IM me. (really. especially if I love you. fuckers.)
The point of this is that grief is understandable. Feel it. Live it. Process it. But please, don't hide it. I think KA would've hated that.
babbled by Kat @ 1:52:00 AM |
Saturday, July 16, 2005
What can I say about Keith motherfucking Alexander?
He was smart. Brilliant, even. Driven. Imposing. Strong. Silly. An asshole. A rock star. A gadget geek. A big kid with a warm, open grin that lit his face up. A man with a twinkle in his eye no matter what the situation or mood.
He lived his life 150%. He never let anything stop him from doing what he wanted, and he never let any of us forget that we shouldn't, either.
He was more than a friend.
He was family.
I miss you, mofo.
babbled by Kat @ 12:15:00 AM |
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
My good friend Keith died yesterday.
I don't know what to say.
I'll be back when I do.
Update: More info about Keith here. Dee said it better than I can right now.
babbled by Kat @ 2:23:00 PM |
Sunday, July 10, 2005
I'm packing for my next trip. My packing and trip preparation style is both insanely anal and amazingly fucktarded. Observe:
Anal: I triple-check that I've packed deodorant, hair defrizzing stuff, and toothpaste. Okay, make that quintuple-check. Especially the defrizzing stuff.
Fucktarded: I always forget shampoo. And hotel shampoo is shit. That's why I need the defrizzer.
Anal: I fold my panties into neat little triangles, and stack them in the suitcase in the following order (for this trip, anyway): black, green, black, hot pink, black, magenta, black. It's like a club sandwich made of lace panties.
Fucktarded: I toss like 8932738947987 cables into my laptop bag without tying them or organizing them in any way, so they come out looking like a technological tumbleweed.
Anal: I roll all of my clothes into little tiny cylinders of cloth. And then re-roll them. Several times.
Fucktarded: I've been carrying my friend's iPod charger and headphones in my suitcase for a month, meaning to mail them to her. In my spare time. Riiiiight.
Anal: I refuse to check bags and can fit 7 days of work and casual clothes, 2 pairs of shoes, a dopp kit, and an SLR into an 18" rollaboard.
Fucktarded: I think all of this bullshit is blog-worthy.
babbled by Kat @ 1:01:00 AM |
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Idle hands are the devil's playground:
Right now, my next-door neighbor is either doing some serious home improvement, mass-murdering a large number of people and then grinding their bodies down to make an apocalyptic quantity of soylent green, or engaging in some strange ritual involving heavy machinery that is only understood by lesbians and the French. I'm not sure which of those options I'm comfortable with. In any case, it's very noisy.
I have a number of things on my to-do list today, not the least of which is stocking up on food items due to the fact that my favorite grocery store will probably be closed tomorrow. I do not want to be relegated to futile attempts to find anything remotely edible at the 7-11 while the well-meaning but somewhat ignorant people in the surrounding neighborhood shoot guns into the air to celebrate old white people escaping the tyranny of other old white people. I may be an increasingly old white person, but I do not wish to memorialize that fact with a bullet descending upon my head from a few hundred feet in the air. I prefer to get shot by people who know me well enough to want me dead.
babbled by Kat @ 2:02:00 PM |