Good... And Good for You

my goal for the month of march was to figure out the difference between "affect" and "effect". i thought i knew. but turns out i did not. so i put it to you on this the night of march 30th... dear smart people, why is it wrong for me to say that something "effect"ed me? why? i just want to be more like you. thanks ever so, kat

let it be known. there is only one movie ONE! that nicolas cage has been bearable in... ... and that's basically because moonstruck's awesomeness eclipses the cage's weirdness. so i ask you... HOW is he still making movies? who is his fan base? WHO? i demand an answer.

i react to stress in two very cliched ways. can you guess what the first way is? whoa, my lack of self restraint could really get me into trouble. it's a good thing i don't work at a chocolate factory. ... wait.

one blog i check out pretty habitually is spEak You're bRanes . it's basic mission is to mock comment threads. it's secondary mission, as far as i can tell, is to bring joy to my life. the following post especially. joy. to my life. "Thanks to Angel for finding this comment on a Times article about violence against women. women are often as attractive and as beautiful as flowers(with brains) it is normal that they want to show the best of themselves through being sexy : it is the essence of feminity and real men like that .Those who dare hitting a woman are not well in their mind.Who would hit a flower Didier, paris, France I tried to explain that to my girlfriend once. She said I was a patronising jerk and then wept as she beat her tiny fists ineffectually against my manly chest." of course then i read the article and the joy was ebbed.

being single is awesome. i don't really blog about dating/singleness very much because, well, first of all i don't have much to say about it, but mostly i worry that no matter what i say people will think that i'm lying or overcompensating or secretly filled with insecurity and bitterness when, seriously, i've never been more content and sure of myself than i am right now. although now that you bring up insecurity, the secret third reason i don't write much about dating is because guys i've dated or wanted to date or who wanted to date me sometimes read this and i can't help but imagine them sitting at their computer saying, " i could tell you why you're still single, heheheh..." and then my soul shrivels up a bit . but i'm going out on a limb today because the only other thing i've got in my arsenal is a story about an impromptu square dancing party that took place during family dinner on sunday between mom, dad, carolyn, and mohamm...

now, i'm not saying i have an addiction. i'm just saying that when someone opens a can of soda, i have a pavlovian response. as in, yes, drooling like a dog. speaking of things i hope you find strangely endearing... this is what i see when i leave for work every morning. yes, yes. a lovely brick house, but just like a "where's waldo book" (is that the best comparison i could've made?) you have to look closer... closer... " maybe you don't want to go. " that is what ziggy's ears and forehead are saying. so let's just add some things to the classified ad i hopefully will never get to the point of actually writing: #1 must love dogs #2 must love diet coke and #3 must love the fact that i have a picture of ruben studdard next to my computer (he's my muse of the month)...

in less than 60 hours i will be on my way to dublin and i cannot tell you how excited i am, wait, yes i can. because i am literate. i'm very excited. of course i also realize that in less than 40 hours, i'll have a knot in my stomach and will start wondering if there's any way i can get myself out of this trip and shouldn't i just stay home and watch tv instead? because i am a crazy person. and i recognize that. i broke out in hives two days before i went on my cruise. so if i write any desperate, kidnapping victim type blogs in the next couple of days, just do what my friends do in real life: roll your eyes and say, "oh, kat. you'll be fine."

as is the way of my life, i spent the first half of february up to my elbows in frosting. it was sexy. wait, no. no it wasn't. i was a little less willing to do the frosting heart thing this year because while i was working 10 hour days, i kept picturing my actual work piling up and up and up toward the heavens... and i just didn't want to deal. but it was fine. because even with the frosting and the work and the commuting and my determination to run sprint intervals every night so i could fit into the "ireland pants" i'd ordered online with a 37" inseam that i was GOING to fit into because they're a size smaller than i usually wear and seriously, if i was going to be shopping in a land with european sizing, i was going to need pants sized in the single digits to change back into and stop me from hating myself... i love valentine's day. my love has been tested. my love has been proven. and nothing can tear us asunder.