Good... And Good for You

last night, i went to the open house of the masonic temple. one of the people we went with kept calling me "katie". wait. no. he was calling me "catie". i very distinctly felt him pronounce it with a "c", and it was all intensely disturbing. i've never been a catie before. i don't want to be a catie now. i don't like catie... she doesn't understand why the masons think geometry is the most important of the liberal arts. she thinks that's stupid. people think she's 20, even after she shows them her driver's license. she tells people they're bumptious. and then explains to them that bumptious means "overly loud and obnoxious". when bumptious people tell her she's not the first person to hate them, she adds that she probably won't be the last. when people ask her if she has any funny bad date stories, she says not really. catie's cranky. so from now on let's stick with kat. or kathryn. but not catie. n

during dinner with my grandmother, my out of town parents called to check up on us. my grandmother's side of the conversation went like this... "i wasn't sure if she would like soup, but i made some and she seemed to like it. she ate it all. and she had some broccoli, and some carrots, and some potatoes, and some chicken... she seems fine. i checked her gums and they were pink..." um, ya... they were talking about my dog. i'm great, by the way, mom. working through some jealousy issues with the dog, which is pretty weird...but... that's fine.

sometimes i think i'd be happy if i had... her hair, or her face, or her money, or her brains, or her sense of humor, or maybe her job. but that's flawed thinking. which is why i'm happy to have... this hair, and this face, and this body, and no money, and bad coordination, and this job.

my roommates are totally into "felicity". i am not. mostly because every single line of dialogue is whispered. "hey" "oh... hey" "i think i love you" "hu" "do you love me?" "no... i love the other guy. the one who cheated on me last week" "hu" "hu" anyways, yesterday jacob took a super long, super late nap, and i ended up watching an episode of "felicity" where she and the one guy are in a drawing class and the class is critiquing her drawing of two hands. and they're tearing it apart. not literally, but with their words . using phrases like lack of composition, flatness, inconsistency, blah blah blah. and the tv viewing audience is going, "um.... felicity's crying because people didn't like her drawing of hands... they're hands . i mean, what's the big deal? they look like hands. they're great hands... i'm pretty sure this would never happen in real

i love the drive thru guy at taco bell... you know the one... or maybe you don't... either way. even though it took me forever to order my food today because he kept on asking me questions about my car through the intercommy thing. and even though i feel a little bit stupid because the employees at taco bell totally recognize me (it's like how i had to stop ordering from pizza pipeline because they would recognize my voice on the phone and go, "oh. hi there. the usual?") and even though i sometimes end up ordering chicken baja tacos instead of what i really want... the grilled stuft burrito, because i don't want him to think i'm a cow. i adore him. because he tells me i'm beautiful.

when i was 13 years old, i completely charted out the next 10 years of my life. with my friend kate, at her kitchen table. not a single facet of my life turned out the way my 13 year old, chris o'donnell loving, billy joel album owning, poofy banged self thought it should. phew. not to insult the 10 year plan. it was great. but in 1995, i didn't know what the internet was, i'd never gone on a date, and i'd never seen an episode of "the simpsons". i didn't have all the information. cut to me 10 years later trying to chart out my life. because me writing down where i want to be in 10 years on a post it note will totally make it happen. (and apparently me doing taebo in the mornings is an integral cog in my 10-year-plan-well-being clock.) instead of planning the future, maybe i should kind of plan the now. otherwise, by next thursday i'll be living in my car in the howlett's driveway.

dear boys, i'm staying up an extra 2 minutes to tell you that you.are.WRONG!! did you hear that? you . . . are . . . wrong. it's not just that this isn't the most right you've ever been. it's that you are wrong. you are wrong. you think you're right. you think you're right and i'm wrong. but YOU are wrong. i am right and you are wrong. wrong. wrong. WRONG! and will you just accept it? will you just trust that i'm a reasonable, rational human being with similar thoughts and emotions and i know what i'm talking about? and that's what makes me so right? and you soooooo wrong. so wrong. best wishes, kat

on sunday, my grandmother very abruptly turned to me and said, "you eat too many carbohydrates!!" she was very vehement about it. hello slim fast how i've missed you. and also celery. hello celery. i did not miss you.