How Observant

I must be an idiot or someone who just doesn't get it. Everytime I go in for a facial or an eyebrow waxing, I get excited for the pampering and the fact that I'll walk out looking better than I came in. It's like I'm doing something good for myself. I should walk away feeling confident and simply gorgeous! Everytime I leave from a facial or an eyebrow wax, I feel anything but. What is it with me and waxing? I had an appointment at the Nordstrom Spa on Friday. It's very convenient, just down the road from my office. I am taking headshots tomorrow so I wanted to make sure that my eyebrows looked manicured and perfect for a closeup of my face. As I am escorted into a serene room, I am asked to lay down on a bed that is covered with an expensive material. I'm lying there eager for the outcome when all of a sudden, the esthetician pulls a circular florescent light right up to my face. If I hadn't closed my eyes quickly, I'm sure I would be suffering from blindness from this day forth. She begins to poke and prod my face. She asks while pointing to an obvious monstrosity on my face, "are you pre-menstreul"? I wanted to say, "DUH!!! Aren't you observant. Hey everybody, it's Sherlock Holmes! He does facials now." I go in for a simple eyebrow wax and they can't just focus on that area! Why do they have to pick apart all of the flaws of my skin? Fun Memory: My mom, sister and I had a fun girls weekend in June and we stayed downtown in a gorgeous hotel and decided to have a spa day. We were giddy for our facials, massages and manicures. Each of us left for our individual facials with a smile. Each of us returned with tears filling our eyes. My mom said, "I feel ugly and old." My 20-something sister had a similar comment. I felt like any moment I would come down with skin cancer and I should put all sorts of ointments and moisturizers on my face or there would not be a hope in the world for me. I would end up wrinkled without my nose at the age of 30. I felt as though I was in the principals office being scolded for something I really had no control over. I was waiting for a spanking for daring to have teenage acne at the age of 28.
Back to the present: So I have these headshots tomorrow and wouldn't you know it, it's prime time pre-menstreul blemish explosion on my face. WHY GOD, WHY!!! I'm hoping the photographer can do a nifty little thing with photoshop. Then she asks, "would you like me to wax your upper lip." "Sure, why not, I want to look magnificent!" As I am handed the mirror, I almost screamed! My eyes had strips of red skin just under the brow while my upper lip looked as if I had a red mustache. The horror! Even more horrific, I had to go out in public like that. How could I make my way from the 3rd floor or the Northbridge mall to the streets of Michigan Avenue with no one asking me what happened to my face. You have to give us women credit, we do some pretty ridiculous things to look good. As I passed a store, I was enticed by the material goods so I had to walk in to make a possible purchase. I caught one glimpse of myself in the mirror. It was worse than I thought! I practically ran out there and cursed the weather for being too warm for a scarf that day. I could have wrapped it around my head and walked around incognito. Thankfully it was dark and raining outside. I had one hour before I met friends for a movie. I spent that hour walking up and down Michigan Avenue hiding my face with an umbrella and hoping the cold air would sooth the stripped skin. I felt anything but confident and sexy. Is it an estheticians job to make you feel bad about yourself? No, but it helps their career to point out all your flaws and say that your only hope is them! You just can't win!

I'm the Kind of Person Who...

I'm the kind of person who:
1) enters the bathroom and makes faces at herself in the mirror or performs some sort of broadway musical dance. I do this mostly to let out my inner wild side...and only when alone or with a very close family member or friend.

2) prefers to sleep in a tank top and underwear.

3) dresses and undresses even with the curtains open because I really don't care who sees.

4) walks around naked in my apartment when no one is home...now I don't come home, undress and walk around naked just because I can. It's usually when I am getting ready...drying hair, etc. It gets hot!

5) doesn't always write honestly in my journal for fear that someday someone will make a movie out of my writings.

6) hopes that someday someone will make a movie out of my writings.

7) doodles on papers so I look busy and important.

8) is more visual.
9) can't flirt worth a lick!

10) changes underwear multiple times a day depending on what I'm wearing.

11) thinks it's important to floss but is lazy when it comes to flossing.

12) sings at the top of my lungs in my car.

13) busts out in song if someone says something that triggers that song.

14) will make up the words to a song if I don't know them.

15) can wake up in the morning with my hair looking just as good as it did the night before without even brushing it.

16) can't seem to get all the mascara off my eyelashes at night.

17) likes to laugh at herself, even when no one else does.

18) could eat Ben and Jerry's ice cream for meals.

19) will sleep in my bed without sheets if I'm too tired to put clean sheets on my bed.

20) loves anyone who made it through this list!

Life Soundtrack

I so think that my life would be more interesting and dramatic if it had a soundtrack playing in the background as I walked through life. Right now I'm listening to Maroon 5's 'She Will Be Loved' and I'm picturing myself walking along the Michigan Avenue Bridge alone while it's dusk and there's a slight chill in the air. While longingly a tall dark and handsome man looks down from his office and says to himself..."now there's a woman!" Wouldn't life seem so much less lonely if you knew that a soundtrack was playing?
People reading this might think that I'm obsessed with movies and the more dramatic side of life...is it that obvious? It's not like I'm a hopeless romantic or anything...please!
Sitting in my cubicle right now I'm thinking more of a Dolly Parton's 'Working 9 to 5'. Oh yeah, what a way to make a livin'.
Walk into my apartment and you would think the appropriate song would be more along the lines of 'Frosty the Snowman' or 'Winter Wonderland.' Yes, I am aware that it's not even Thanksgiving and I have my tree up. Get off my back and let me enjoy it! Geesh!
I'm waiting for 'It's Raining Men' to even be an option on the Life of Katy Soundtrack.

Mr. Darcy

So much has been going on. I'm sure you've been waiting with baited breath to know all the goings on of my life. I've completed two half-marathons...put them together and you got a whole one. Bada bang bada boom. Interesting thought: both my times put together makes for a faster marathon than any of my other three. Another interesting thought: I trained for one and not the other yet felt much more in shape after taking off 1 month from running. My new training method = no training at all! Woo hoo!!!! Yet I will continue to carb load for months on end.
The other day I found myself driving along lakeshore drive staring out the window at the rugged sea (aka. Lake Michigan) and wondering "where the heck is my Mr. Darcy?!!" Proudly I admit that I watched all 6 hours of A&E's version of 'Pride & Prejudice' this weekend starring the love of my life (for this moment anyway), Colin Firth. If I really thought about it, Elizabeth Bennett destested Darcy until the very end and I don't want to marry anyone that I detest. So maybe I don't want a "Mr. Darcy" per say but more of a Colin Firth that makes you melt when he stares at you with that half smile. You can hear women around the world giving me a hearty "AMEN!" I am trying my hardest to hold back from having a Colin Firth dedication week. I do believe my next favorite characters would be, of course, Mr. Darcy in 'Bridget Jones' and that of the sweet broken-hearted man in 'Love Actually.' I may fall into temptation this week. It doesn't look good.
I also want to warn all of you that there are dangers associated with shopping. It was one fateful evening in October when I was tempted to try on a cute hot pink zip up velour hoodie. I slowly put down my purse and on the way up I pulled a muscle in my gludious very maximus area. I just want to say, BE CAREFUL! Only I could pull a muscle shopping! Maybe God's trying to tell me something. Hmmmm....
Today is my most wonderful dad's birthday. His 60th!!!! But he'll be the first to tell you that he feels 25, except that he pulls muscles every week. He is the kindest, most generous and loving father anyone could ask for! And so funny and wise too! Perhaps I'm not married b/c he set way too high of a standard for me. Alas....
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!!!!

Garden State

So I haven't written in a while. That's becoming a common phrase with my weblog. It's because I've become so busy and important. You should feel lucky that I'm even writing in this at all. I'm busy and important and am only taking time out of my busy and important life to write in this because I've been asked by all the non-busy and unimportant people to write something new.

Actually, I've been reading Zach Braff's blogs from his Garden State website. He's really hilarious. You know, I think we could be friends. Seriously. You know all normal people like me say that about stars they have a semi-crush on. I was inspired by his blogging and decided to write a little blog myself.

So I had a dream about him the other night. Actually, he was in my dream. Lucky him. He was dating some gorgeous friend of mine (not my friend really but someone I made up in my dream that was my friend and happened to be pretty) but he really wanted to be dating me (of course!). What does this dream say about me really? Not quite sure.

Go see the movie Garden State. I thought it was a beautiful movie. Can I please play the part of Natalie Portman sometime in my acting career. Maybe I need to take up writing again so I can write myself a part like that. Hmmm, I'll do that when I'm not so busy and important.

Two fun/funny awkward things happened recently.
1) a guy in my class pulled me aside and said that of all people he knows, he could really see me going places in the improv/acting world. Then he followed it up by saying, "I'm not hitting on you or anything, I have a girlfriend." Okay, thanks. But seriously, that was kind of him to say that.

2) I walked up to my apartment after class and the entry way doors were open with two guys looking at the mailboxes. I said hi and they wouldn't stop talking with me. One guy kept asking me questions. He asked if I was from here and of course I responded that I was from Texas. He said, "I could tell." "Why, is it my southern charm?" "No, it's just that you said hi."
Okay, I get that. But then he would stop me mid comment and say, "You have really nice eyebrows. I like the thickness and shape of them." Okay, thanks. "I really like your cheekbones." "You have great teeth and a beautiful smile." Gee Whiz, you're so kind. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Caught off guard I responded, "no, do you have a boyfriend? I mean, we do live near boys town." Plus the eye brow and cheekbone comments threw me a bit.

So I have pretty eyebrows, cheekbones and a gorgeous smile. Plus I'll become a star actress. Not bad for one night if I do say so myself.

I'm going to go stare at myself in the mirror and contemplate my eyebrows.

10 Year Reunion

Reunited and it feels so good....
I can almost hear the music playing. Hmmmm.

The 10 year high school reunion has finally arrived. I remember being back in high school and feeling like the 10 year reunion was a lifetime away. I can't believe it's actually 24 hours away! I'm really looking forward to spending time with friends, seeing people who I have not seen in 10 years, and seeing how much people have changed or remained the same. Personally I think that I am basically the same person. Others may not see it that way. NO ONE but my closest friends would ever have believed that I would move up here to Chicago to pursue a comedic acting career. I'm sure they thought of me as the snobby girl who wouldn't talk to them. The truth is that I was too shy to talk to people who weren't my close friends. That's a little extreme. I made many friends but wasn't exactly "miss outgoing."
Somethings about me have changed and some haven't. For instance, my thighs have altered a bit but my teenage acne is still here. How can I be 28 and still have teenage acne?!!! Shouldn't clear skin be a reward for making it through the teenage years? Apparently not. The sad thing is that I really didn't have acne in high school. Maybe I'm just a late bloomer. I didn't lose my baby fat until I was 23. But suddenly I've gained it again. Hmmm, how did that happen? Two words: BEN and JERRY.
In high school, I imagined myself at my 10 year reunion. I was married to a wonderful man who loved me, loved Jesus, loved the idea of a large family. We would live in Colorado and work for a summer camp with our three kids in tow. It sounds like one big MASH game (which I have to admit I still play. The last MASH I played had me married to Aaron Eckhardt, driving an Infinity FX with my 6 kids, working as an actress and living in a Ranch house....not too shabby). Oh, and I would have been 20 pounds thinner. DANG! I forgot to lose 20 pounds before the 10 year reunion! I don't think I can do that in 24 hours and still be remotely healthy enough to attend the festivities. Oh well, I'll just have to go as myself. I feel that I am more secure now that I was back then. I hope that's true for all of us.
I had quite an exceptional class. I was honored to be with the most brilliant, beautiful, kind, loving, hilarious and creative people. I'm excited to see where we've all come and to know how we got there. No doubt these stories will be interesting.
In the meantime I'm just going to figure out what I"m going to wear. That's a whole other issue. Seriously! What does one wear to their 10 year reunion? I want to look sophisticated, not 16. But I don't want to look like I work in an office. You can't go wrong with cute, but then again, I've been "cute" my whole life. Maybe it's time for another look. Too bad I haven't cut my hair in 4 months and I'm in dire need of a pedicure. It's a little late for "Extreme Makeover." But I don't need to take those drastic measures.
Maybe I should invest in a good pair of SPANX

Prized Idiot

I walked into work on Wednesday feeling cool and refreshed after a five day trip home to be with my family over the Independence day holiday.
I looked cute in my new Banana Republic skirt with a nice sweater tank top that sported my nice tan (praise the Lord it covered up my drastic running tank tan line...again, not that I've been running). I sit down and greet those walking in and all of us chatting merrily about our holiday weekends. That's when my boss walked up to remind me that we had an important meeting that morning and I needed to go home and change into a suit. THE HORROR!!! First of all, I don't like doing things wrong. If I've done something wrong, I want to be the one who recognizes it. So red faced from embarassment and moments away from a panic attack, I raced home in a taxi ($12 down the drain thank you very much) and changed into a suit (and we all know I don't like suits). Then as I'm walking to my car to drive back to work, a hem of one of my pants comes undone and I have to tack it up with huge safety pins. I park my car ($12.25 more down the drain) and sneak back into work so that no one really notices. The meeting went great but my esteem was shattered. Ultimately no big deal, but I might as well have had the word IDIOT pasted to my forehead.

Last night I had a fun 50 minute journey home from class. As I stood on the platform waiting for the Red line for 30 minutes I kept contemplating jumping ship and riding home in a taxi. But due to the previous days' events I decided I needed to save the money. FINALLY the el arrived and I stepped into a crowded car. One thing I've learned is that if they el is running late, expect it to be packed with people when it arrives. I wasn't disappointed. I noticed people weren't sitting in the seats and then I noticed why. Hot Dogs smashed on the floor. Hamburger buns sticking to the windows with a paste of mustard and...gag...ketchup (can't stand the smell of ketchup). Now I'm no detective but I'm going to guess that someone had had a food fight.
So I ride home trying not to dry heave and pretend that nothing is abnormal with food thrown all over the car. It's late but I decide to walk through the alley anyways. Honestly, it's better lit than the side walks and plenty of other people decided to take the same route (don't worry mom). Some random man with a back pack starts singing at the top of his lungs and swaying back and forth. He starts looking behind him and I immediately speed up my pace to just get out of there. As soon as I pass him, I notice he stops behind a dumpster. Next thing I know, I hear something similar to Niagra Falls. Well that just made my night. I got to hear a man urinating in the street (don't like that word either). I exchanged comments with a fellow innocent bystander and headed home to the safety of my apartment.

What an exciting life I do lead.

Instant Messenger

A random sampling of an instant messanger conversation with a friend who shall remain nameless. My life is so exciting.


ME: i just had to say "diet soda" b/c we can't use coke here and no one gets the universal language of "coke"

FRIEND: haha! damn yankees - they so don't know how to talk. ex: "hey Katy, i'm heading over to the coke machine...want a coke?" Katy: "yes please." me: "what kind?" Katy: "Fresca if they have it." oh, the wonder of the southern talk...

ME: it's so great. it's like an inside secret. Fresca...the drink of the 90's along with Shasta and Tab

ME: I mean 80's

FRIEND: i had a fresca yesterday & thought of you.

ME: ahhhhh. I think everyone thinks of me when they drink fresca. maybe I should be their spokesperson.

FRIEND: i think of my dad, too. the original fresca drinker.

FRIEND: 1 hour, 15 min.

ME: you're right. i think he taught me everything.

ME: how dare you dartegnian or whatever

ME: 6 hours!

FRIEND: Dartanian!

ME: I like my spelling better.

FRIEND: woohoo...hey, dont' you get off at 445?

ME: yes. so 5:55 left

FRIEND: i see.

ME: you better
ME: ah, makes me smile

FRIEND: >:o>:o>:o>:o

ME: >:o

FRIEND: i like em small. they are scarier that way to me for some reason.

FRIEND: i think it's the beady eyes.

ME: >:o

FRIEND: what's up w/ this guy?

ME: open mouth, insert foot

ME: that's what I assume it is

FRIEND: really? i wondered if it were a sick person w/ a thermometer in their mouth?

FRIEND: this is a blog conversation waiting to happen.

ME: it's an episode of seinfeld

ME: i like it. i may have to include it

FRIEND: yep

Resident Alien

Apologies to all who have checked this site religiously only to find that I have neglected sharing my thoughts and adventures. Thank you for expressing your concern. But yes, I am still alive and well.
It's official. There's no turning back. I have finally become a resident of the State of Illinois. The Land of Lincoln and the birth place of Ronald Reagan (which I have heard continuously this week. I really am sad that he passed away because he was a wonderful president and a man of integrity and conviction. But, he suffered greatly as well as his family. Finally he is at peace).
My journey to this residency wasn't without it's mishaps and use of maps and algarithmic equations. Why is it so hard to figure out how to get a new license? I needed everything short of a DNA test to even enter the licensing room.
Walking downtown to the Thompson Center (can't believe I found it) was much like walking down the streets of Paris or Rome (except cleaner). I seriously felt like I was in another world. But I liked it and felt like I was a world wide traveler once again. I discovered that I didn't have to wait hours upon hours in line until my name was called. But what I did discover was that I had to take a written test. A WRITTEN TEST?!!!!!!! I haven't even studied this material in over 12 years. Eenie meanie miney mo definitely came into play. TA DA! She passed! And not even barely.
From there I was ushered into a room where they took my photo, but only after they peeled the beautiful Texas license out of my hands, punched a whole in it and sent it on to what I can only imagine is a torturous chamber of fire! Weeping!
"Ma'am, can you tell me your eye color?"
"Brown"
"Height?"
"5'4"
"Weight?"
"Um. WEIGHT?! WHAT THE HECK? WHY DO YOU NEED TO KNOW MY WEIGHT? THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO NEED TO HAVE MY WEIGHT PARADING AROUND TOWN! WHY WOULD A BOUNCER AT A BAR NEED TO KNOW HOW MUCH I WEIGH? Calm down...breath. WILL THEY KICK ME OUT IF I WEIGH OVER 120?"

I couldn't lie. I couldn't do it. I should have said I weigh near 200 pounds. That way people will say, "you don't weigh that much" and it will be a compliment instead of thinking "she totally lied" or "that looks about right."
My picture turned out pasty and I look like a 50's housewife. Hey, it could be worse.
As I went to spend another portion of my inheritance on new license plates I saw something that has been burned in my brain. As I walked up to the counter....I can hardly say it...I saw...a man...I'll just say it!...cutting off a wart on his hand with scissors!!!!!! After 10 seconds of smelling salts, I finally came to.
So no more tickets! I'm official and I finally have my car back! Freedom of the road. I sure missed it!

Single..and Loving It!

I would say that I am a pretty happy single person. I'm not one to usually look at married couples and sigh with disappointment that I didn't have what they have. I typically look at myself as the "I'm single and loving it!" kind of gal. Others are envious of my energy and passion for life and adventure!(she says to herself). But this weekend was a gauntlet of happily married beautiful people (all whom I love and adore!).
There were about all of 4 single people at this recent wedding celebration. Me and my three beautiful friends wore the "I'm single" sashes with pride. But I have to admit that as we all danced on the dance floor I was dreading the all too inevitable "couples only dance." Sure enough "Let's Get it On" came through the speakers and yours truly did a quick about face to the singles table (exactly, why do single people have to all be put at one table as if we're the plague!? Probably because we don't fit in perfect segments of 6's or 8's. Really no big deal but just an observation). I couldn't help but to look on with hope and frustration at the same time.
But don't you think that I walked away empty handed! Oh no. There was some action! Alligators aren't the only predators on Kiawah Island. Two single men were on the prowl. One was laid claim to by a certain someone who will remain nameless, the other was one to be avoided. Unfortunately I was unable to avoid the "goodbye hug" at the end of the night. I had just met him so I'm not exactly sure why a "goodbye hug" was necessary. There was a hug, a slight pause and then I felt his nose dig into my neck as he took a big whiff. After what seemed like WAY TOO LONG he abruptly lifted his head and said, "you smell good." I muttered something about shampoo or lotion. I'm way too secure to be carried away by a statement like that. But hey, it's good to know that you smell good thank you very much.

Some fun events of the weekend that turned into one big dramatic saga:
1)Delayed flight
2)12 ft. alligator sighting
3)hearing the alligator was run over
4)Katy's purse was stolen while she strolled along the beach
5)Katy's bathing suit top broke (I'm not even going to mention the previous fear of the bikini not fitting, but I'm sure it was only due to it being well-worn) Thank you Carrie for letting me borrow an extra strap so I could strap myself in good and tight.
6)Katy cancelling her credit and debit cards
7)Katy finding her purse at the front desk and rejoicing with tears b/c she didn't have to figure out a way to get home without a picture ID
8)More delayed flights on the way home
9)Rachel and Katy unable to find eachother as they wander around Charleston
10)Luggage being lost and not returned until over 24 hours later
11)Finally being able to brush my teeth! Priceless.

It's Gettin' Hot in Here!

It's getting hot in here and yes I wish I could take off all my clothes. Not that the office would much appreciate that one...or EVER want to see me again.
What is it with this city?! As my dad said, "In Chicago, if you don't like the weather wait 5 minutes."
Okay, I don't need to bash the city. Who cares if I am sitting in a puddle of sweat today and that tomorrow it may be snowing! I mean, it's more the fact that the air conditioning in this office is broken and I can hardly concentrate because I began to panic when I feel a bead of sweat forming on my brow. I love it too when you have dark lines on your shirt because your pudgy tummy catches your shirt in it's rolls and it stains it with sweat.
For all of you who were sweet enough to read my Europe emails, this may sound familiar. I laid in bed the other night paralyzed because any movement could cause me to break out in severe persperation. Finally my roommate agreed to turn the air conditioning on so that I could sleep and wouldn't be grouchy. I just can't sleep when it's hot. And when it's hot, that just seems to be all I can talk about. Just ask Trey, he'll tell you.
I often wonder if I would rather be severely cold or severely hot. The jury's in and I'd just rather be perfectly comfortable thank you very much.
My avid readers and fans will be happy to know that I just returned from being waxed by a new person....drumroll please....she was great, quick and painless. I've finally found my new bikini waxer! (que the trumpets). Let's just hope she doesn't get married and move away and I have to start over from square one again.
ARGH! I'm finally squeaky clean in the unmentionables area but I am a little frightened by the fact that I have to squeeze myself into a bikini that may or may not fit me. I know where the bikini is, I see it and it taunts me. I can barely bring myself to try it on. I might as well get it over with. I'm secretly hoping that I'll be so turned off by myself that I'll throw away all the movie candy that sweet Maria brought over last night for girls movie night and I will never be tempted by "bad" food again. Or maybe I'm secretly hoping that I look great in my bikini. I mean, all I really need is a good tan right? Tan fat is prettier than pale fat. That's my motto!

Personal Care: Hunting for Women

So I'm on the hunt for a new bikini waxer. I went to the same person for 11 years. Sweet Lee who knows my life story and all of my friends has moved on. Talk about a tragic moment in my life! I thought Lee would always be around. I had plans of her waxing me before my wedding, seeing pictures of my kids, etc. She was a fixture in my life. She was there when I got my drivers license for the first time. She helped me through two years of cheerleading (can't mess around with short skirts and bloomers. High kicks and toe touches made sure I saw Lee at least once a month). I saw her on my visits home from College. She even wished me the best as I headed around the world. I could almost shed a tear!
Hunting for a new bikini waxer is no easy task. You try to get recommendations from other people but that doesn't always work. Then you have to actually go through the bikini waxing experience with this new person. It's so personal and vulnerable. You don't just trust anybody! And when it doesn't work, IT DOESN'T WORK! It's enough to make a grown man cry for his momma. It's a sort of trial and error if you will. It can be very similar to going to a new hair stylist except the pain ratio is much higher. But at least if it's a bad job, you don't have to wear a hat for the next six months.
Men have no idea what we go through! Seriously! Let's take the most sensitive part of our skin, throw some hot wax on it, rub a piece of cloth over it until it sticks like cement, and for kicks...RIP IT OFF! This sounds like some kind of torture if you ask me. That's why it's imperative that you find someone you trust, who's good at what they do and makes it as quick and painless as possible.
I have to admire Bikini Waxers. That is definitely not something I would want to do for a living. I mean, they have to pretend that it isn't in anyway awkward or weird. When you go to a new waxer for the first time you pretend that "hey this is normal, this is good. I've done this before. No it doesn't bother me that I'm exposed." Then you bring up insincere conversations of "where you from? How are the kids? No I'm not interested in new lotion that can keep me from breaking out but will break the bank."
Oh Lord I hope no boys read this. Wait, I take that back. If they do read it, they will be better men for it. I applaud any guy who made it through this ranting and raving.
I'm nearly ready to hit the beach. I just have to take care of this one little thing...

10 Random Thoughts

Some random thoughts for the day:
1) My recent word of addiction has been "HYSTERICAL." I use it way too often and find myself saying it in almost any situation. For instance, "Katy, my dog just died." I respond, "that's hysterical!" Or I say it when someone says something funny but not funny enough to induce a laugh. So it's a deadpan "that's hysterical." Or how about when I'm just so tired and don't know how to respond. For example, "Katy, Merve just called and said he didn't get an email." I respond, "That's hysterical." I really must get a new word.

2)I just took a quiz on "which Friend are you?" I'm Phoebe. Hey, I like her. She's "hysterical."

3)I work in an office of 16 woman and some genius decided that we needed only 1 bathroom. For some reason my timing has been off lately. Everytime I get up and turn the corner, the door to the bathroom closes. There's a nice one down the hall, but let's face it, I'm lazy.

4)I had an "hysterical" thought last night. I was in a cab on the way home from my aunt's house (thanks to the many tickets provoking me to park my car in her garage. It's in hiding) and had the thought, "I need to run another marathon." Now what would incite me to think that? Maybe the fact that a diet of chocolate and carbs isn't doing it for me. Running is my only hope. At least I can do a half.

5)Why do I set my alarm for 6:15 a.m. knowing that each morning I'll change it to 7 a.m. when the alarm goes off? Do I feel more athletic or in shape just because I "think" about exercising? It's the thought that counts, right?

6)I've lost all discipline. I used to be the queen of discipline. People hated me because I was so disciplined. I don't even floss daily anymore. Maybe I should start there...with the little things.

7)I just looked through People's 50 Most Beautiful People and was disappointed not to find myself in the issue. And to make things worse, my star crush, Aaron Eckhardt wasn't in there. What has this world come to????????

8)I'm having a good hair day. It's the first in months. Note to self, the hair growing out process is not a smooth and easy transition unless you're a celebrity with a personal stylist.

9)I hate when you take a pice of gum out of it's package and the white wraps come out with the silver lining. Now all my gum will fall out into my purse and it will be squished.

10)I just read that Drew Barrymore is staring in the Movie version of "The Confederacy of Dunces." I wanted to be in that movie! Also, she lost 30 lbs. running. Why can't I be disicplined like her?

Fangorn

Things are really progressing with Trainer Brad. He actually opened up to me about a friendship he wants to turn into more of a romantic relationship. I gave him some wise counsel. I'm thinking that maybe we could come up with an agreement: He offers free training sessions in return for some wise relationship counseling. I think it's fair, not sure he would see it that way. And trust me, he needs the help!
The other day he had me doing more exercises to make sure my butt looks in great shape (too bad I counteract that with Ben and Jerry's and a tub of guacamole the other night from Adobo Grill...and milk duds - the best movie candy EVER!). He had me doing these mega stair climbs. A weight bench stood in front of me and it was my job to step up onto the bench and then raise my opposite knee (much like step class) and then switch each time. Unfortunately for me (and other innocent bystanders), I was wearing shorts.
Now, I've been using bikini wax as my favorite form of hair removal since I was a teenager. But the long winter months in Chicago had me not caring a bit whether or not things were ship shape. So all I kept thinking as I stepped up and raised my knee was, "I hope everything is tucked away down there and there aren't any surprises for potential audiences around me." I simply refer to it as "Fangorn." For those of you who could care less about the Lord of the Rings, you'll have no clue. It's a dense forrest that is believed to harbor scary things. Hence my reference to it.
I have decided that wearing long pants would be more suitable at this point. And it would improve my chances of being asked out on a date.
Laser hair removal definitely is something I want to look into. All you girls out there can just give me a big fat "AMEN"!!!!
I do realize that this particular story that I've shared might frighten people, but I'm working on being vulnerable and honest no matter the cost. They say that makes the best comedy.

Ticketed

This sunday I walked to my car for the first time in two days. And what did my eyes see? My car adorned in orange and white paper. Two tickets awaited my arrival on my driver-side window. Seriously, that was totally unnecessary.
I am a poor sad soul who allowed my Texas Registration sticker to expire. Now why the heck would any police officer from Illinois care that my TEXAS registration sticker had expired? I will leave the officer's name confidential but all I can say is DESPERATE to make QUOTA!
People are out and about in Wrigleyville enjoying the Cubs play the Mets. The police officers are also out and about enjoying the festival of tickets that they have waited so long to hand out. It's like the City of Chicago awaits Cub season so they can raise all sorts of money from poor souls like me! Two tickets within 24 hours of eachother...by the same person! Like I can do anything about a TEXAS registration sticker on a saturday or sunday. Give me a BREAK!!!
I'm working on it! I'm definitely contesting one of the tickets. I couldn't sleep last night because I kept dreaming police officers were stalking my car and adorning it with their equivolent of crate paper to a cheerleader. Not that I have anything against police officers. I greatly appreciate their hard work and their commitment to keeping all of us safe out there! They do indeed put their lives in danger by protecting us. But how is a registration ticket a danger? Don't answer that.
As I told my dad this morning, it just makes me want to be married so that someone can take care of me and certain areas of life that I tend to want to pass over or procrastinate on. Like getting the oil changed. Or someone to point out that I need to have my tires rotated because the tread is wearing thin. Like I have a clue about those things. All things cars just stress me out!
So I am $100 poorer but a whole world wiser. Thanks but I don't want to have to learn this lesson again...and again...and again.
I'm applying for a mail order groom who likes to take care of cars and leaks in the roof...oh and great when it comes to taxes and money. Leave me to the relationships and nurturing. Heck, I'll even cook!

Sprng Eternal: A Lunch Break Epiphany

Spring signifies a time of renewal and transformation. It does indeed! Yesterday as I was walking along Michigan Avenue I was overwhelmed by the warmth of the sun on my face and hoped that my hybernating freckles would finally appear. People walked a little slower, filled their lungs with fresh air and forgot their troubles momentarily.
I was almost giddy as I walked along the tulip lined street of the Magnificent Mile. It was as if they were about to burst into the air to greet the world. Green fragile leaves are peeking out from the stems that once encased them. It is like they are stretching and yawning from a long winter. The buzz of the people and the music of the birds filled the air.
It was enough to make me want to hug the silver robotic man on the corner of Chicago and Michigan. I wanted to hi-five the lady dressed in a business suit and running shoes. I wanted to yell to the cab driver honking his way through the busy street that I loved him! I was waiting for everyone to break out into song and dance as if we were starring in a musical.
There's hope of life renewed and the desire for transformation in all forms of life. It's amazing what spring can do.

Sweet Lovin': A Story of Passion & Betrayal

It is a love that has blossomed over the past few years. A love that has brought me much joy, satisfaction and happiness. Never could I have imagined my relationship with these two men to be so wonderful and so wrong at the same time.
Ben and Jerry. Their love surprised me one night at a grocery store. I looked through the pane of glass and my heart quickened. I began to read the characteristics of their gifts and an addiction was born. An addiction that still haunts me to this very day.
When I was training for a marathon there was so much joy in our relationship. They were a reward for my hard work, sweat and determination. I was in my own Utopia. They were my opium. Nothing could go wrong. They were a foundation built of rock in my life. If I was lonely, they were there. If I was joyful, they were there. If I was angry, they were there. And if I was bored, they were there. A pattern that could do no wrong. No wrong until I stopped my obsessive physical exertion. That's when the betrayal began.
What kind of betrayal you ask? The worst of it's kind. I gave them nothing but attention and consistent quality time. No they did not run away; instead they stuck to me like a listerine strip sticks to the roof of your mouth. A permanent nuisance to my once ideal life. Is this revenge? I don't understand why.
No matter how I try to turn my eyes or ignore my thoughts, I just cannot have enough of them. Even yesterday they got the best of me. Am I doomed to fail daily?
I sat there praying that I would have the strength to walk away. I found myself asking God for my favorite flavor to be missing from shelves of the Jewel frozen section. And I said, "If it is there, then that must mean that you want me to give into this animal-like behavior." And there as I rounded the corner, I saw it. "Everything But the..." staring me right in the face. I asked, "God, is this you?" Silence. "That must mean that You want me to have this." He replied, "Don't even bring me into this! You have the power to SAY NO!"
Oh treacherous deceit! They thwarted me into letting my guard down and moved quickly to devour my strenth. I gave in once again. AND IT SURE WAS GOOD!

Measuring Up

I think it's safe to say that I've had the same 2 bras for the past six years. Only now are they starting to wear a little. I am a little surprised that they lasted this long. The secret is to hang dry the lingerie. Normally I'm too impatient to do this but you don't mess around with a good bra.
Wednesday I thought it might be a good idea to try something new and different. I innocently walked into Vicky Secret's with my roommate to "just look around." Suddenly I was approached by a woman with a tape measure around her neck worn like a scarf. Yikes! I've seen one of these a little too recently.
She kindly asked if I was looking for anything in particular. I asked if she would point me in the direction of the bras. She said, "Have you been measured recently." I wanted to shout, "Yes! And it wasn't pleasant. My hips are not at a happy stage at the moment." But I refrained. Instead I said, "No, but I don't think I'm ready to be measured."
"But you need to be measured every 6 months. 9 out of 10 women wear the wrong sized bra."

"Yes, I can see that, but I'm not at a place right now, physically, that I want to be measured."

"Oh, you're wanting to lose weight?"
(thank you captain obvious!)

"Exactly. I'm just now coming out of winter hybernation."

"Most women gain weight over the winter and that's why you need to be measured every 6 months."

"Well, I don't want to be measured! Why buy a bra that's going to be too big for me in one month!" Plus I'm a risk taker! I might just buy a bra and not know for sure the right size. I'm crazy!
Why may I ask did I have to be accosted in a safe environment like Victoria's Secret? I thought women understood women. Apparently not. I mean, if I wanted to get measured, I'd go to the doctor or back to Brad to be completely humiliated. I was waiting for a "you're a little larger around the rib cage but you could use a training bra in the cup." NO THANK YOU!

A Bachelor Obsession

I didn't mean to do it. It wasn't in my plans. Perhaps it was a force stronger than myself that led me to turn on ABC last night to catch the last 40 minutes of The Bachelor. All I can say is, DRAMA, DRAMA, DRAMA!!!!!
I missed too much of it to really know the new cast but I caught enough of it to know that it's going to be one vicious season. All the more fun to watch!
We had an office meeting this morning in the hallway between the cubicles to discuss these important topics: 1) Who is the mole? and 2) What the heck was that with poor sweet Katie?!!
Let's start with topic #1: It seems to be a concensus in the office that it's Jenny S. Gorgeous in her own right, she's not the pageant queen/cover model the rest appear to be. Good for her! Also, she has quite a bit in common with the bachelor. So, hmmmm. We shall see.
Onto topic #2: As a Katy, I must ask, "Why is it always the Katie's of this world that get picked on, picked over, and cast to the side?!" Hello! She's totally adorable and a worthy competitor if you care to know my opinion.
Also, a guy should NEVER give advice to another guy about women. If the "host" had been a woman, Katie would have stayed on and never known she wasn't wanted. I was yelling at the t.v. and secretly waiting for Jesse to turn to Chris and say "I really wanted to give you the rose." And for Chris to reply, "Finally! I thought no one would ever notice me!"
And really, why must Chris say "Jesse, Ladies, this is the last rose" for every rose ceremony. DUH! I think we can see that and the women have been counting down the roses since the first one was handed out. He gets paid for this?!!!
And why do I care so much about this? I have no idea. And did you see the previews for the season? Two words: CAT FIGHT!

Humiliation at its Finest

It's that time of year again. The time of year when you look at yourself in the mirror for the first time in 6 months and wonder "How in the world am I going to fit into last years' bikini?" You begin having visions of yourself being arrested on the beach for indecency and the lack of discretion for wearing such a thing when you're not "physically fit" enough. Why can't America be like Italy? You see great grandmothers, obese men and women and everyother body type wearing bikinis and speedos. No one gawks horrifically at someone who has a patch of cellulite on the thighs and turns to their friend to say, "No one who looks like that should wear a bikini!" Personally, I think that's just insecurity speaking. Or maybe I am facing trial for comments like those that I spoke years ago.
Enough with that rampage. I faced a humiliating reality last week when I went to the gym to have my "physical accessment" done. Now as someone who has prided herself on great physical fitness and muscular tone, the 5 month Chicago winter has hit me like a chicago-style pizza in the thighs.
Sweet Brad, my trainer. 23 year old, just out of college Brad had the opportunity to squash my pride to the size of a nanoatom-molecularproton-amoeba thing. Lucky him. At 6am on a Monday morning he pointed towards a certain object against the wall and looked on with horror and disbelief. How could I weigh that much?!!!!!! Then came the torcher utensils. Plyer like tong things that pinch your skin and tell you how fat you are.
Three areas where most women develop insecurities:

1)The back of the upper arm.
2)The side of the stomach that rolls when you bend sideways to pick up something off the floor.
3)The abdomen directly next to the belly button that is often mutilated by the indention of pants zippers.

Not once, not twice, but three times did these areas of my body have to be pinched! Picture this:
Brad on his knees with my shirt lifted above my belly button while he takes his two fingers to grab my belly button and the skin beside only to squeeze it with this sharp tong-like object. Run on sentence...for a moment of time that kept running on.
One would think that I would be motivated enough after that humiliating incident. But no! Last night I had a gourmet shmorgasbord of fine foods at a friends house. And did I watch what I ate? Well I sure did watch the food disappear from the table and into my mouth in record like speed. I almost couldn't breath. Good times.
Learn from me. Learn from my mistakes. And live happily!

Urban Chic

Sometimes I can be known for my impulsive shopping sprees. But this one was no fault of mine. I have to blame it on Spring. Yes, Spring, as in the season. I knew something was amiss when my entire office went out on a shopping venture for our lunch break on Friday. We have been bitten by the bug. The bug that makes us long for something new and adventurous. No doubt the fact that we are so sick of wearing our coats and sweaters for sixth months in a row has a little something to do with this. But it was not clothes that I was after on a warm and sunny saturday morning. I wanted transportation!
Spring often lends itself to nostalgia in my little world. I could almost hear the ice cream trucks, sprinklers spraying, the sound of the community pool and a tennis match playing in the background while I nap on the couch. It also made me think of days of old when I would ride my bike with my dad to a local diner and we didn't worry about the potential danger an environmentally conscious person could face on the road.
So what did I do when I passed a neighborhood bicycle shop? I went in of course. I was also attracted to the "Super Sale" sign grandly displayed on the outside of the store.
I walked out of there with an Urban Chic bike. It's nothing fancy and definitely not decked out, but it's cool enough. I even had a rack put on the back so that I can go to the grocery store. It is commuter friendly and stylish. How hip I must have looked as I had a saddle bag filled with groceries riding down Halsted. Let's hope there was little resemblance to the wicked witch that taunted Dorothy and Toto. I can almost hear the song in my head. Oh God, please no.
So now I am officially Urban Chic. I am free from the dependency on a car. I can ride my bike anywhere I may choose and not have to worry about parking. That's freedom. And I'll save a few bucks too due to the rising prices of gasoline.
I keep trying to remember my bicycle safety class in second grade. I even whipped out a hand signal yesterday at a stop sign. I do remember some of the things I was taught in my youth!
Freedom on the road. That's me.

Morning Breath Commute

As I sat on the el this morning, I had an epiphany. This was in no way a self-propelled realization. Instead it was forced upon me by a sudden waft of an unidentifiable odor. But as it came in and out like waves on a shore, I studied it and came to a conclusion. Morning Breath. Please, is it really necessary to open your mouth everytime you beathe? If it is, a nice brush before the morning commute would be nice. If not for your own well-being and the well-being of your teeth, then for the good of all those who are forced to ride along with you on this journey. There are different kinds of odors that can be caused by this olfactory damaging disease we like to call "halitosis." There is the, "I just had cereal and milk but was too lazy to brush my teeth" odor. We can't forget the most well known of all, the "I had to have my morning coffee on the way to work while I read my paper" breath. Some opt for the "I was running late for work and forgot to brush my teeth and didn't have time to change my underwear" aroma.
You see, these are the things I ponder as I ride to work. The first half of the ride I look out longingly at the bright blue sky and the chirping birds. The second half I am resolved to think due to the tunnel effect. I have to be careful not to think too much or I will be overcome by claustrophobic-like symptoms.
All in all, I will probably have much to say about my commute to and fro. It provides me much amusement.