Monday, September 24, 2012

now it's back to "kat: in the hat," which is ironic because i never wear hats

so, it turns out my grandfather did not have a secret family in germany.

i know i should be happy about it, but all i can think about is how the potentially greatest chapter of my currently unwritten memoirs will now never be written.

and how the title of my memoirs, "kat: nazi hunter," has lost the touch of irony that was sure to make it a best seller.

Friday, September 21, 2012

okay. it's late enough that i can go to bed now. see you in 2013!

sixish+ months ago, i was watching "60 minutes" with my dad and there was a story about people who don't have the facial recognition part of their brain so they don't have the ability to recognize anybody. ever. not even their children.
it was sad.
they quizzed the non-recognizers by holding up pictures of famous people like martin luther king, jr. and george clooney, etc. and the poor, non-recognizers knew not a one.
and neither did my dad (which made me feel slightly more forgiving towards him regarding the time i had a five minute conversation with him at the bank and it turned out he didn't know who i was (but (silver lining) he was still very nice to me)). like, seriously. he didn't know anybody. and every time they held up a picture of a black guy, he would guess jesse jackson, which was never the right answer.
THEN they moved on to the people on the opposite side of the spectrum, a super recognizer, who remembers every face.
it was also kind of sad.
because when they quizzed the super recognizer by holding up childhood pictures of obscure celebrities, i was shouting out the names just as quickly and readily as the freak on "60 minutes."

this is when i had an epiphany.

my whole freaking life, i have assumed that i am completely forgettable because i would run into people from elementary school or an old job or the bank i used to go to and i'd go up to them assuming they'd also remember me because, hey, it's totally obvious, right? and then, frankly, they wouldn't remember me at all and it would be awkward and i'd walk away offended.
but it finally dawned on me that it's not that i'm more forgettable than everyone else, it's that i'm kind of a freak when it comes to faces.
so ever since then, i've started to notice how kind of not normal it is that, at the gym the other day, i recognized a girl i talked to once, four months ago, at church.
and the woman i saw at the post office last week who i recognized because she dropped off my company's paychecks once last year.
and the guy i saw at the grocery store and recognized because a few days before i noticed him eating at einstein's bagels while i was picking up some lunch for my boss.
and the woman at the pet store who was one of my mom's best friends in high school.
oh, and you know the guy who was in the mormon "pride and prejudice?" that movie that i saw 1.5 times almost 10 years ago? he's in an episode of "west wing" for about 3 seconds. i would bet you money on that.
and the guy who's an extra in "gilmore girls?" you know the one. the extra who's always bussing tables at lukes. oh, you've never noticed him? well, don't worry, he's also an extra in "alias" and some other tv show that i can't think of but i know he's a business man of some sort.

there are three things i want you to think about now:
1. 6 months ago i thought this was normal. i would've been a little bit hurt when the paycheck delivery woman didn't recognize me too.
2. if you ever run into me in person and i don't recognize you, be seriously offended. or come up and say "hi" because i'm probably just pretending not to recognize you. that's what i do now.
3. if you can think of a way to make money from this, i'm open to it.

that is all.

p.s. i'm also weirdly good at unscrambling words.
p.p.s. we've all got a little rain man in us...
ew. i just pictured a tiny dustin hoffman in my stomach.

it's too early to go to bed and i just can't make myself work any more tonight... so hello, blog that i haven't seen in over a year.

the main reason i try not to do anything ironically is that i'm forgetful and if i do something often enough, i forget i'm doing it ironically and it becomes an actual thing.
forgotten irony is the reason i say, "keepin' it real."
it's why i make a pouty, fish face when i dance.
and, oh gosh, it's why i dance the way i do. the running man? why am i always doing the running man??
it's the reason for the nonstop dialogue i provide for animals. i now have full-on, two-sided conversations with ziggy. it's one mother-issue away from being norman bates-ian.
it's to blame for the hair feathers i wear.
and my neon everything.
AND my punk, 80s makeup (i'm 31!).
and the fact that i've seen every episode of "dawson's creek."
...ahem... and "that's so raven."

all i'm saying is that i don't wear irony well. or, i don't wear it ironically.
or whatever.