The Boston Marathon is right around the corner and, this year, my good friend Cory will be running in support of the Michael Lisnow Respite Center, a local nonprofit organization that provides respite care to children and adults with disabilities.
Represent, yo.
Cory and I have been friends for a long time -- since that infamous day in 9th grade when I asked him if he got boners in math class. I always make a lasting first impression. On a separate note, I'm still single and looking.
This picture is of Cory and me.
And that is grammatically correct.
Anyway, Cory is very close to reaching his fundraising goal of $5,000, but still needs to raise more over the next few days. I would be honored if you would support my friend and this wonderful organization. For more information about the Michael Carter Lisnow Respite Center and how you can donate, please visit Cory's fundraising page.
If you have been following my tweets and Facebook posts, or if you have talked to me for more than 3 minutes over the past few weeks, you probably know that I have been looking for an apartment with my roommate, Meredith, and have been feeling pretty anxious about it. My search for a place to live come June 1 has been emotionally taxing. There were many times when I felt like I would literally be homeless.
What I do on my lunch break.
I envisioned Boo having to sell himself on the streets for cash, the only consolation being that he would make a pretty penny considering how absolutely, flawlessly gorgeous he is. And considering how many people want to have sex with cats?
FLAWLESSLY GORGEOUS.
Anyway, because I'm a rational person who never exaggerates or overreacts or panics about anything ever, this extreme thinking was totally justified, obviously. But, in all seriousness, it was hard to be hopeful when the turnaround time on renting apartments in Boston right now is approximately 20 minutes--meaning, an apartment is listed and then gone within the span of 20 minutes. For example, we found an apartment we liked only to discover minutes later that it had been rented while we were looking at it. As in, while we were standing inside the apartment. Tears ensued.
We even considered living in Mission Hill. Mission Hill, you guys. People get shot and die in Mission Hill. They DIE there.
Despite all this trauma, Meredith and I found an apartment last night, signed a lease this morning, and will be moving in about a month. I am so beyond relieved. Now I can cut back on therapy costs and also stop practicing becoming homeless.
(In regards to the tweet above) I retold this story to Meredith, who apparently thought I said "midget," not "pigeon." Imagine if I said, "You are dangerously close, sir" to a midget?!
Happy Friday, everyone. I give you permission to drink copious amounts of beer in honor of my finding a home.
I just wanted to let you know that your show, Good Morning America, is absolutely terrible. It is smut disguised as a news broadcast. Unfortunately, it is on every morning at my gym. Normally, I ignore it, but today I couldn't, mainly because I forgot my headphones. Not the best start to my day, clearly.
Instead of covering the news, you spend almost your entire show featuring sensationalized stories about "scandals" and celebrities. Meanwhile, actual news headlines, concerning the war, the economy, politics etc., stream across the bottom of the screen courtesy of the local news station.
This morning, you spent over 10 minutes on a story entitled, "NFL Cheerleader Sex Scandal," during which, your correspondents, or whatever you would call them, berated the accused, portraying her as a slut and a deviant. Now, she may just be a slut and a deviant. Who knows? However, I was under the impression that in America, you are innocent until proven guilty. But the innocent have not a chance when the media publicly burn them at the stake before they even get to trial. I highly doubt anyone from your "news cast" has met any of the parties involved in this case, yet you seemed to be sure that you knew exactly what happened.
The stories that followed were about Whitney Houston and the Real Housewives. You did cut to the local weather, which was probably the most informative segment of your show.
Do you feel proud of this? Is this what you think journalism should be? I wonder, did any of the people at your station even study journalism? I did. In fact, I wanted to be a news reporter until the basic principles of truth, objectivity, and educating the people were squashed by publications and networks like yours. I know you feel like you're giving people what they want. But I want you to know that though I may only be 25, I don't give a shit about the Kardashians or people like them, so I find your show insulting. What I do care about is education and civil rights and public policy; and these are just some of the topics I expect the news to cover. So maybe instead of assuming that all Americans are vapid, superficial people, why don't you take a risk and instead assume that they are intellectuals wishing to be informed? You could make a real difference.
I know I can stop watching your show, and don't worry, I sure will. But, since freedom of speech, like the presumption of innocence, is one of my rights (at least for now), I thought I might as well take advantage of it.
Last week, one of my friends posted the following article on Facebook:
The author, or whatever the hell you'd call someone who creates comprehensive lists of 90s pop culture and/or memorabilia and posts them on the internet, did a pretty good job at covering all the best parts of my(our?) childhood. Though the "article" is titled "175 Reasons Why Being a 90s Girl Rocked Our Jellies Off," most of the list is pretty gender-neutral. Also, now that I'm a feminist because I'm taking my first and possibly only Women's Studies course--fuck gender! Or something like that.
Anyway, here are some of my thoughts on just 12 of the 175 items on the list:
1. Tamagotchi: I could only afford the knock-off version sold at CVS. I still remember the shame.
2. Zenon, Girl of the 21st Century: I loved this movie, which is weird since I hate space. But I can remember watching it over and over again whilst eating Easy Mac. That shit was also my jam. If it weren't for microwaves, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have eaten as a child.
That is SO Raven.
3. Roller blades: One time my friend Steph and I roller bladed down the Cape Cod Canal. Suddenly, the weather changed and we were in the middle of a hurricane. That was pretty scary. That was also a lie because we were not in the middle of a hurricane; it just felt like we were. I think it was raining or something.
4. Kimmy Gibbler: Every thought I ever had about Full House changed when Bob Saget performed at UNH. He is a dirty, dirty old man.
On that note, I once saw George Carlin with my dad. First of all, let me just say that Carlin was one of the most brilliant comedians/people to ever walk this earth. He is the only celebrity I've ever felt sad about dying. I loved him. Second of all, let me just say, that listening to him make jokes about incest while sitting directly next to your father is fucking awkward.
6. Baby Alive. This thing was fucking disgusting. I don't recall ever having any other doll, not even a Barbie, so I'm not sure how I ended up with this one. The thing peed and pooped and like never stopped doing either. Why? Why would anyone ever want that? Perhaps Baby Alive is the reason I don't want children now.
7. Hypercolor shirts: I talk about these frequently, but no one ever knows what they are.They were awesome. I promise.
8. Stick-on Earrings: Do they still make these things? If so, I need to know where to get them stat. At age 25, I only wear 50 cent stud earrings from H&M, which I think I'm actually allergic to considering my consistently red earlobes. Stick-ons might be a nice, equally priced, alternative.
9. Pogs: I tried liking these, but as it turned out, I just didn't give a shit.
Premature hoarding.
10. Gelly Roll Pens: My friend came out of the closet in high school*. The next day his mom bought him gelly roll pens.
11. Super Nintendo: I had a choice between one of these and a Sega. I chose a Sega. Still regretful. Sure, Sonic was fun and all, but I could have had Mario Kart. MARIO Kart.
12. Last but not least, Buffy the Vampire Slayer: I read the books and watched the show. So fuck you, Twilight fans.
*Note: I didn't start high school 'til 2000, so this list is FRAUDULENT.
Season 2 of Game of Thrones* starts on Sunday. I cannot wait. I've had it written on my calendar for months. I also set a reminder in my phone, as if I would forget.
Kind of like this reminder.
In case you don't remember why I like it, it's because it's medieval soft-core porn with bad-ass wolves and massive bloodshed. Also, dragons.
Get excited.
In Spain, I toured this old medieval* city and felt like I was in Winterfell. I made that pretty clear to everyone around me: "This looks like Game of Thrones." "I feel like I'm in Game of Thrones." "You guys, Game of Thrones."
Unfortunately, I didn't see any midgets in armor, nor did I hear any rumors of incest or bastard children. But, that's probably only because I don't understand Spanish.
*Side note: In 10th grade, I used "thrown" as a noun in one of my papers. This is something I'm still ashamed of. *Side note #2: However, can we all agree the "medieval" is terribly difficult to spell? Even now, at age 25? Please say yes.
At least once a week, I say something along the lines of "My blog is over. It's dead." because I can't think of anything to write about.
Clearly, that is a bit of an exaggeration, but it really is often difficult to come up with something to say. So, if you're ever out there and you see something weird or read something fucked up, let me know about it, because I need the inspiration. And I guess those are the things that inspire me -- weird, fucked up shit.
Or, maybe you need advice about something. You might not know this, but I'm very wise. Sage-like. So I can most likely help you with any of your problems.
So, email me at imyourkatieque@gmail.com (you can also find my email in my blogger profile by clicking my lovely picture directly on the right), and I just may feature your content or question on my blog. It will be like you're famous, except that the only people who will know about you are my Facebook friends. And probably only a small percentage of them.
In honor of the suspiciously fantastic weather we're having in Boston this week, I'd like to share with you possibly my favorite SNL sketch of all time: http://www.tudou.com/programs/view/-3yfHbYd1uY/ (<-found here)
Morning Latte with Britney Spears
Please note Cheri Oteri's line, "What's the deal with the AC fellas? Did it break? Fellas?!" because one time in college, when I was at a frat party sweating my ovaries out, I yelled this out. I was then promptly SCREAMED AT by some fraternity brothers who apparently didn't find me funny. I can't even describe the rage. The absolutely unnecessary rage. But, I guess Beta never liked me that much. Perhaps because at another one of their parties, I stepped on a wire and accidentally caused all of the music/lights to go out. Woopsies.
I actually think that's pretty true. When I was there, it was sunny and 70 every day, and I was told that it hasn't rained in Spain in months. However, I did notice some grassy fields during my train/bus rides between cities.
On that note, the train ride from Caceres to Madrid felt like a roller coaster ride in hell. For roughly two hours, I experienced sheer terror.
This is what sheer terror looks like.
The area between Caceres and Madrid is mostly mountains and farms. If we werent crossing some tiny bridge (probably built in the 19th century) between mountains, then we were in a tunnel driving through one. At one point I looked to my left and just saw clouds. While the train was wrapping itself around the side of the mountain, I was clutching the arm rest for dear life, as if that would do anything.
You see, I don't like heights. You might think that's ironic since I love skiing, which involves going to the top of a mountain, strapping blades onto your feet, and speeding down. But, I usually cling to the bar on the chairlift until it's absolutely necessary to lift it. I'm generally terrified of being up high. Remember my experience in Disney World? I literally sobbed on the Tower of Terror.
No es divertido.
But at least in Disney World, I had someone to hold my hand. Unfortunately, this time, I had no ally. I was just surrounded by a bunch of Spaniards reading and playing on their phones as if we were not on top of a fucking mountain. Meanwhile, I was silently panicking, but decided that crying wouldn't have been received well, so I held it all in.
I thought for sure I was going to throw up, but thankfully I did not. Especially since I can speak approximately six words in Spanish and none of them would have helped me explain that. "Umm, lo siento... Como se dice vomit?"
Hola amigos! I am back from my fantastic trip to Spain. Did you miss me?! I'd like to think you did. So if you didn't, at least pretend. I'm fragile, you know.
So, of course, my account of Spain will mostly involve all of the food I ate. You know how I roll. One of the best things about Spain is how much the people there love bread. One day, I ate an entire baguette by myself. Like a whole loaf of bread. It was delicious, freshly baked, and approximately 40 cents. Everything there is so cheap, I couldn't get over it. A typical glass of wine is the equivalent of $1.50. A DOLLAR FIFTY. I already drink so much wine in the States, I can't imagine what would happen if it was $1.50 here. (I'd be a drunk, that's what would happen.)
The entire time I was there I just kept asking myself and everyone around me how Spaniards are so skinny. They eat chocolate for breakfast. Melted chocolate in which they dip fried dough. For breakfast! Also, it's nearly impossible to find vegetables there, and things labeled "vegetarian" have ham in them. Nutritious. Yet, everyone there is little. This is astonishing to me. I eat one carb and blow up like a balloon. But, don't worry, that didn't stop me last week. I ate my way through Madrid, Seville, and Caceres. And I'll tell you what, I fucking love me some patatas bravas.
While I was in Caceres, I went to the school at which my friend Stephanie teaches English to 3rd-6th graders. Apparently, one of the classes found out about how I feel about food and presented me with some of the traditional dishes of Spain.
On that note, I felt like a celebrity while I was there. All the kids were so excited to see me, partially because I was their teacher's friend and also because I was a foreigner. They followed me down the hallway and shouted my name. At one point, they were literally pressing their bodies against a glass wall to look at me. They also did this:
This was all a bit overwhelming since even pairs of children make me anxious, nevermind gaggles of them crowding around me asking me questions. And of course, their favorite question was, "What is your boyfriend's name?" To which I had to respond, "I don't have a boyfriend" in very clear, precise English. Awesome.
One little girl asked me if I liked birds, and I answered, "No, I do not like birds" because I think they're fucking gross and scary. She gave me probably the dirtiest look I've ever gotten in my life. Sorry, Lucia. I wish we could be friends.
Anyway, although I loved Spain, I'm happy to be back. I got home and went to the grocery store and spent $50 on vegetables. Maybe that's why people don't eat them there.
I'm going to Spain mañana! Wee. ¡Estoy muy emocionada!
This is the Spanish flag.
This will be the first time I ever leave the continental U.S. I know, I know - you can't believe I've never left the country! Oh my god, that's so weird! Oh my god!
It's really not, actually. Some people haven't been able to afford to travel abroad. Some people still can't afford to travel abroad but are going to do it anyway because it's about god damn time. Priorities.
Anyway, in preparation, I've been practicing my Spanish. I'm visiting my friend, Steph, who told me I'll be fine because I was in Spanish Honors. Well, that was approximately 8 years ago; so, needless to say, I'm pretty rusty.
I decided the best approach, given my limited amount of time, was to focus on learning the essentials. I also purchased this helpful manual to carry around with me:
Practical purchase.
Here is what I have down so far:
Biographical information: Me llamo Katie. My name is Katie. Tengo veinticinco años. I am 25. Yo soy Americana. I am American. Pero, no soy un agujero del culo. But, I am not an asshole. Yo broma, yo soy. Just kidding, I am.
Important questions: ¿Dónde está el bar? Where is the bar?
Preferences: Me gusta comer. I like to eat. Me gusta beber, tambien. I also like to drink.
Typical sayings: Estoy hambrienta. I'm starving. Me estoy muriendo. I'm dying. Estoy re-mal de filo. I'm fucking hungry.
