Jen, weather is evidently a big deal here in Northeast Ohio, too, although the only people who seem to care are the local news personalities. I was watching the news last night and the anchorman was all giddy like, "Hey, Ramona. How about that weather? Just when we thought we might have a bit of a thaw, the old Cleveland Weather System *insert swift closed-fisted arm movement for emphasis here* just sticks it to us, doesn't it?" And Ramona, whose eyes are gleaming evil in the wake of being able to announce yet another local snowstorm, says, "That's right, Tim! And for details, we go now to our Excessively Aryan Meteorologist, who will pretend to be surprised that, despite the fact that we live next to a giant frozen lake very near the Canadian border, we're going to get more snow!" And then Excessively Aryan Meterologist tells everyone to bundle up the kids, and all three of the bozos start hyuking like fools.
In other news, the remainder of the glass on the front doorknob came clunking off the other night. Now we have this small, sorry metal bit where there was once a doorknob. And even that falls off most of the time. We called the henchman, who was supposed to come over and fix everything last night. He didn't show. Raise your hand if you're shocked.
posted by Kate at 2:05 PM link/comments
I'm not quite sure what to say about this.
posted by Kate at 11:48 AM link/comments
People around me seem to be convinced that my life is much more interesting than it actually is. Like I went to the university food court a little while ago to get a sandwich and three forms of beverage (influenza=dehydration. would prefer to not end up hospitalized.) Lady behind the cash register was like, "Thirsty?" "Well, yeah, kinda," I replied, "I'm a bit dehydrated." She apparently took this to be code for "I consumed too many alcoholic beverages last night" and laughed and said, "Girl, I hear ya. But sometimes you just gotta get yo' drink on, knowwhati'msaying?" I smiled and said that yes, I did, in fact, know what she was saying. Somehow did not feel it was necessary to explain that dehydration was due to two days of nausea and fever.
This morning, my boss asked me how I was feeling and asked if I was "eating a balanced diet." She also wanted to know, in a very wink-wink, nudge-nudge sort of way, whether I was "burning the candle at both ends." Add this to the fact that when I told my mother yesterday that I was sick, she asked, "You're not pregnant, are you?" as though that were a plausible scenario. Although that would explain that visit I had last week from the Angel Gabriel. He said something about some "second coming" or something. I just nodded and smiled. Between him and the damned Jehovah's Witnesses and Mormons, I can't get a moment's peace.
posted by Kate at 11:34 AM link/comments
I understand stay-home guilt completely. I've been knocked off my ass by some evil strain of influenza, so I stayed home from work yesterday. Spent the day actively prohibiting myself from checking voicemail and email messages at work. Was afraid the university would crumble without me. So I spent the day watching bad daytime tv and reading copies of "US Weekly," which is a People-esque entertainment mag. It comes listed in Jen's name. Jen claims she never requested it or paid for it. Seems to be a theme in our house.
In any event, I spent the day reading about the cast of characters on that new fucking Survivor series and also about how Martha Stewart went antique shopping and refused to pay $3,000 for an antique world globe. Last night I had (probably fever-induced) dreams wherein Martha Stewart was among the cast of Survivor. She was trying to make curtains that complemented the Outback. I swear.
posted by Kate at 10:46 AM link/comments
Tuesday, January 30, 2001
If anyone is bored they can check out new Iowa pictures on my homepage. There's one of Paul puckering up for Pan the ferret. This is what I do when the outside world is covered in ice.
posted by Jen at 12:40 AM link/comments
Monday, January 29, 2001
Kate -- that feline dance class clip is too much. What the hell...was that for real? I'm so disturbed. Right now in Iowa there is a rain/slush/ice/snow storm theoretically headed to my doorstep, so my employers have insisted that I stay home. Being this is my third or fourth snow day in the last six weeks, I am struck with this weird "oh my god, I have the day off again" guilt that must be strictly American or something. Why do I feel guilty about a day off? Total Catch-22 going on here: when I'm at work, I can't wait to leave, and when I get an unexpected day off I guilt-trip about not being at work. But I'm sure that in a little bit I'll be rather content as I sit on the couch, eat chips and salsa, and develop a crush on the local weather personalities as they interrupt Martha Stewart to bring me news of the impending doom falling from the skies onto the god-fearing plains of Iowa, where weather is A BIG DEAL. Afterall, a storm that combines the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (in Iowa terms, that means rain, slush, ice, and snow) doesn't happen that often...at least according to the news stations, who are clueless...Rain rides a Wet Horse....
posted by Jen at 2:30 PM link/comments
God knows I love my cats, but this is ridiculous. Thanks to Alex, who stole it from here.
posted by Kate at 12:38 PM link/comments
Awww, Paul, I'm so happy to hear you're still holding true to your dream of jumping Michael Stipe's bones.
I used to want to jump Michael Stipe's bones, but then something changed my mind. Among the crap that arrives daily in our mailbox are several magazine subscriptions in my name, none of which I have ever requested or paid for. As a matter of fact, when I moved from Akron to Cleveland, I didn't even call to change my address, and the magazines found me. Among these mags are Ski Magazine (it should be noted here that I can't ski to save my soul), U.S. News and World Report , Jane, the occasional fitness rag, and Interview. Interview Magazine (founded by Andy Warhol) is the worst magazine ever produced. Their idea of a fashion spread is some muscleman standing around in his skivvies with a plush dog sticking out the top of his underpants' waistband. I'm all for a broad definition of what "real" art, but come on.
In any event, Interview invited Michael Stipe to do a fashion shoot for them. The entire spread consisted of heroin-chic, emaciated, androgenous men and women wearing dull colors and looking sullen. The women were absolutely some of the most underweight, unhealthy looking models I have ever seen (which, I think, is kind of a terrifying concept). So I'm still angry with Mike Stipe over that one.
posted by Kate at 10:27 AM link/comments
Sunday, January 28, 2001
billyjoebob, im flattered that you would jump the fence for me. i would jump the fence for you, too, except that besides being spoken for, i promised myself and posterity that the first man i threw myself at would be michael stipe. i realize thats probably very trendy of me, but it's an old, old crush, and so im willing to risk it.
kate, it's funny you should say that about kissing, because when i was originally writing what i wrote, i wrote "if someone ever kisses you, theyre going to have to kiss ick." or something like that. isnt that funny?
kate is going to kill me now.
my weekend has consisted of buying the book of short stories my major professor wrote and eating chili with corn bread. you might think this doesnt sound like much, but i'll refer you to my earlier philosophy about keeping the definition of exciting elastic.
oh, i also bought a bottle of scotch that came with a little gadget. it's a metal hoo-ha that affixes to the top of the bottle and then makes the scotch pour out in a thin, tight stream, causing it to even further resemble urine. the thingy is made of metal and has a counterweight on it. like those things bartenders put in the tops of their bottles so it looks like theyre pouring a lot but you really get half an ounce of liquor. so now i can trick myself into thinking im drinking a lot more than i am, and then i can realize the trick and get beligerant with myself, and then say something i'll regret and be forced to throw myself out.
so it's a full weekend after all.
posted by Paully at 2:43 AM link/comments
Saturday, January 27, 2001
Weekend Report: Went out dancing last night with Melinda and Holly and Dave at some trendy-ass joint in the Warehouse District. Place called Wish. Music so loud that I still can't hear much of anything except quite a bit of ringing. Fun, though. There were some German and Swiss boys who swarmed upon us, drunkenly trying to remember their English. God bless European boys.
Tonight: Steve's taking me to a dinner party being hosted by his former colleagues at the environmental canvassing group. Then the Cleveland Cinematheque is showing A Clockwork Orange. I'm beginning to feel as though I have a social life outside this house. Strange.
posted by Kate at 5:44 PM link/comments
Embarrasing Counting Crows factoid: Adam Duritz is the only man i'd ever consider jumping the fence for (and you, Paully, but you're spoken for).
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 2:54 AM link/comments
Friday, January 26, 2001
Hey, everyone: When you build your stortroopers, send em to me at my work email address: klf4@po.cwru.edu. Bastard AOL won't recognize the attachment. Mike and Holly, you need to re-send your to this address. Zack, Steve, and Sean still haven't made theirs, but that's maybe because they haven't posted anything in at least 100 years.
As for you, Melinda. Get on the stick.
Weekend here. Bailing in 25 minutes. Over-n-out.
posted by Kate at 4:05 PM link/comments
Hey, Hiramites. One of the profs who occasionally works out of my office is good friends with David Anderson (and, incidentally, does a dead ringer of a David Anderson impersonation. Only better one I've ever heard was Paul's.) So she gave me a copy of a couple of pages out of Ohio Writer that were devoted to Hale Chatfield. Had comments on Hale by Carol Donley, and an essay by Joyce Dyer, which was rich in Joyceness. Nothing particularly startling, but they did print a copy of one of Hale's poems called "Elegy on the Elegy." I can't say I was ever a Hale poetry fan, but this one's pretty damn good, I think. Or maybe it's just the context. In any event ...
But you are dead.
Where is this place and age
do myrtles grow or laurels?
And if I found some would I dare
to scatter on your grave
the paraphernalia of
mythology?
What divinity
can I invoke and not invite my readers
to mistrust my lines? There is no muse
these days to help us poets write these
poems on death, and even sorrow,
even grief does not assist,
but much more often intervenes
between our pages and our minds.
But you are dead;
and the sea's the same,
un-Neptuned, violent or serene
as circumstances bid, and does not roar
especially, or thrash or seethe
uncommonly; and the sky is blue,
as frequently it was before you died;
and the wind's itself and makes
a windy noise (I hardly think it seems
to call your name, or wail: it blows
all for itself and seems to sink away);
and there are no young shepherds
on the hill to sing sad foolish songs;
and that's the pity of it all,
the sorrow;
and that's the pity and the sorrow.
posted by Kate at 2:03 PM link/comments
This is going to sound really weird (and possibly really mean), but I was just in line at the deli next to someone who, despite being female and black, looked startlingly like Billy Bob Thornton in Slingblade
"Sure would like a pastrami on rye. Mmm-hmm."
posted by Kate at 12:49 PM link/comments
Back after holiday is the Six-Layer Kate "Meet My Family" page, which you can hereafter access via the links at left. Click there for cheesy family photographs, and to see my dad wearing swimtrunks.Oh, yeah, Mom. In case you've been looking for the family photos from the Virgin Islands trip, I swiped them all like two years ago, which explains why they're now on my website
posted by Kate at 11:34 AM link/comments
now the next person who kisses you will only have three degrees of separation between ick and their own mouth
See, Paul, the thing is that the next person who kisses me is going to be less concerned with the third-degree ick separation than with the fact that they'll be kissing a woman who's just gone into apoplexy from the utter shock of being kissed. I don't even think I remember how it's done.
The preceding message was brought to you by the Self-Pitying Faction of Kate's Psyche. Had this been an actual emotional crisis, the attention message you just read would have been followed by trite musings about the meaning of Kate's life. Fortunately, the Stop-Being-A-Big-Wanker Faction of Kate's Psyche has it all under control. The Public Relations Faction of Kate's Psyche apologizes for any inconvenience.
posted by Kate at 11:16 AM link/comments
All right. So I just got a call from mom announcing that she's trying to post, but that she keeps getting error messages. I suspect it has something to do with the fact that my family's Windows95-powered PC has the technological prowess of a sea sponge. Try hitting the "enter safe mode" thingy, Ma, then post again. Maybe that'll work.
posted by Kate at 11:11 AM link/comments
Embarrassing factoid involving Counting Crows: Our freshman year in college, Paul and I spent a lot of time listening to CC's August and Everything After whilst trying to convince each other that no one really understood us. Come to think of it, I still listen to August and Everything After and get weepy. So much for emotional maturity.
posted by Kate at 9:16 AM link/comments
I think two of my most embarrassing Napster downloads were "Crazy" by Patsy Cline and some damn radiosong by Matchbox 20. Both are indulgences in the "depressive self-gratification" category. Kind of like the Ani DiFranco "every pop song on the radio is speaking to me" concept. Counting Crows are the perfect band for this sort of thing. The music's shamelessly whiny, but Adam Duritz writes fabulous lyrics, so there's some justification. The perfect band for the intellectual wallowing in unabashed angst.
posted by Kate at 8:46 AM link/comments
I think cutting scissors with broccoli...uh, I mean cutting broccoli with scissors is completely resourceful and brilliant, and someday soon Kate will save us all with her ingenuity. Or maybe someone needs to save us from Kate's ingenuity. For the record, Paul does have a fairly clean mouth. I almost typed "moth," would that not have been absolutely hilarious...
posted by Jen at 1:25 AM link/comments
napster is both good and evil. napster is good because it allows you to dig up all those songs you used to kind of like but would never, under any circumstances, waste money buying. so then you download them and you can actually listen to them, but then there's this constant reminder of just how pathetic your taste in music really is. for instance: i downloaded that natalie imbruglia song about lying on the floor. im not proud of it, but there you are. and sometimes i listen to it, and sure it feels good while im doing it, but then i have to look myself in the mirror when it's over. and what i see isnt pretty.
i think that cutting up broccoli with scissors is one of the stranger things ive heard of you doing, kate. i mean, at least carry a pocket knife for god's sake. have a little decency. you probably cut paper with those scissors, and you dont know where that paper has been. that's only like two degrees of separation between ick and your mouth. now the next person who kisses you will only have three degrees of separation between ick and their own mouth. dont you see how it's all a downward spiral? i try to keep my mouth clean enough to eat off of. i gargle with bleach three times a day.
i have to go now. i gotta see a guy about a car. if you know what i mean.
posted by Paully at 1:16 AM link/comments
Thursday, January 25, 2001
Kate's mom - Linda II - Mrs Foster....... please please please please please post. As you may be aware, my mother resides in your fair country, 5000 miles from me. As I approach the 27th anniversary of my birth with all the style and finesse of an out of control fertilizer train headed directly for an NRA meeting, I find myself pining for motherly advice and comfort. And besides, look here, are you going to let Kate think that her mother won't post when mine will?
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 8:21 PM link/comments
I have missed much excitement in weeks past. My my. WHere do I begin?? First, parking tickets. I, too, decided to uphold my rights as a lazy bastard college student and not buy a parking permit for the lower lot. I believe I actually managed to talk one of the Phys Plant goons out of completing the ticket they were writing by pointing out the deplorable condition of my 1976 Dodge Colt Station Wagon. (As in "Pity me because I drive this beast. Punish me not for I have more burden than I can bear.") ANother time, I woke up in the morning and had a near panic attack and ran around accusing every one on earth of stealing my piece of shit car. Turns out, I hadn't paid tickets in a while. They towed my baby to the police station. I walked over there and cried. They gave me my car back.
I haven't been towed out of Shaker, yet. I assume they're coming for me any day now.
OK, Linda-Kate's-mom-Mrs.Foster-lady, you had better decide to put something up here. Look at us! We're drowning in a motherless world. Give us the guidance and sheltering we are so desperately searching for. Or at least a good quality Cartman impression.
Well, all, I have sapped my blogging for the day. I will try to be better in the future.
posted by Melinda at 4:29 PM link/comments
Mother. If you don't post something to this blog, I'm going to go straight after work and get multiple facial piercings.
posted by Kate at 1:38 PM link/comments
Walked out the door to get some lunch a bit ago, thinking I'd make my usual Thursday-afternoon trek to the Subway across Euclid Avenue. Got to the front door of Subway and realized that it was the last thing on earth I wanted to consume. So I walked like four blocks up Euclid to the hippie Food Co-Op, where I purchased the following: a small container of baba ganouj; three heads of organic broccoli; and a bag of something called "Stone Ground Corn Carrot Chips," which purport to be "made from stone ground corn, carrot juice, carrots, & whole wheat." They contain no preservatives, incidentally. So I got back to the office, stared quizzically at my purchases for a few minutes, then proceeded to begin chopping the broccoli with my desk scissors, since I don't tend to keep large, sharp vegetable-cutting knives in my desk. Just then, one of our student workers, Ian, whom I adore, walked in, started laughing his ass off, and asked me what the hell I was doing. The world continues to laugh at my resourcefulness. Someday they won't be laughing. Someday they'll bow before me! *shakes fist at heavens*
posted by Kate at 1:17 PM link/comments
Australian mob. Hee hee hee. The brilliant part is that you're not too far off the mark, Paul. I know who Bluebox Rob is, but Bill has made me take an oath (on pain of being mercilessly tossed to the dingos or something) to never reveal the details of his nickname. It's like Fight Club. The initiation was hell.
The first rule of Bluebox Rob is that you do not talk about Bluebox Rob.
posted by Kate at 8:54 AM link/comments
holy goofballs, batman. i hadnt had the chance to read the post about the doorknobs. the blog was cleverly hiding it from me. it's a wiley blog you have here, kate foster. a wiley blog indeed. i am most impressed by the fact that you havent succumbed to some aimless yet persistent feeling that the doorknob thing is god's way of telling you something existential about your life, like maybe all the doors to opportunity are closed and have no doorknobs, resigning you to a life of clevelandness. or maybe youre such a go-getter that in your eagerness you pull off all the doorknobs of opportunity, and then you risk locking yourself in mike's bedroom of indecision. or something like that.
here in iowa, temperatures are hovering right around Every-Puddle-of-Water-is-a-Miniature-Glacier degrees. what this means is that, walking to my office, i had to cross the ice plains, but since i'd forgotten my crampons and rope, i had to mince like a little turtle-man while the younger, more dexterous passers-by looked at me like im an aging hipster. this, coupled with my constant sickness and the fact that the other day the word "cool" came out of my mouth like it didnt really belong there, have led me to fear that im getting older. my father isnt helping. he wrote me a long email about how i sound like im sixty and i should be retired in florida. what does he know, anyway?
my students today confirmed that my class is the smallest they have, and they completely surprised me by saying they enjoy my class the most, causing a moment of pause in which i had to re-evaluate my presumption that the comatose looks on their faces up to that point had been more indicative of fawning adoration than utter boredom. who knew? still no word on whether they were just kissing ass. i'll keep you posted.
Billyjoebob, im a little worried that youve already resorted to calling in favors from the australian mob. (im assuming it's the mob--who else has names like "MickeyB" and "Bluebox Rob"?) if you need a place to crash for a little while, we have an open couch here in iowa. i guess we could mail it over there if you cant make it to ames.
jen's ears are full of wax. this means i should get going.
posted by Paully at 1:22 AM link/comments
Geez Kate, your doorknob anecdotes are book-worthy. In our apartment-going-to-hell news, the upstairs bathroom has developed some sort of persnickety electrical short, which means that the ONE switch that controls two lights and the fan is completely useless, and we're lighting candles for teeth brushing, body washing, toilet using, hair brushing, and all things related to cleanliness. Landlord has been called, to no avail. Will buy more candles and matches tomorrow. In our previous apartment, we too had a doorknob fall off. Here, I've noticed, none of the doorknobs match...not even on the same door. Silver on one side, brownish-copper on the other.
posted by Jen at 12:59 AM link/comments
Wednesday, January 24, 2001
fer (insert deity of choice's name here)ssake, lindathemom, POST! If you don't post, maybe I'll stop posting, maybe Kate will stop, then we'll all stop, it'll be anarchy..... I hear you're about to (or may have already) purchase new improved automotive transportation. This is a good topic to start with. You can tell us all about your new locomotion, and we can all seeth with envy about the baby boomers who have all the money while us brilliant twenty somethings are forced to slave away in menial service industry crap jobs while you cruise past the drive through window of our lives in your imported luxury car...... sorry i'm getting a little carried away with the ludicrously horrible nature of my financial state (update: $11.12). But reat assured, bloggers, MickeyB is on the case, as is Bluebox Rob.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 10:39 PM link/comments
Holy hell. Nine website overhauls, three design/print jobs, and a pile of administrative shite that would make your head spin. And all needs to be done by Friday. Nervous breakdown forthcoming.
posted by Kate at 3:51 PM link/comments
I'm actually surprised there's that much call for dentistry there in Ames, Iowa. I would have thought people would just let them fall out, then occasionally replace them with dried corn kernels or dentures inherited from deceased kinfolk.
For some reason, everyone on my grandfather's side of the family was cursed with bad teeth, so my grandpap, my great uncle Cas (aka "Quack." don't ask. i have no idea why.), and my great aunt all had dentures. This wasn't so bad where my pap was concerned, but Uncle Cas had this disturbing, semi-regular habit of popping them out with his tongue. So you'd be sitting there talking to him and (*baroing*) suddenly what appeared to be the top half of a human palate would come sliding out of his face. When he got older, he stopped wearing them altogether, which gave him that charming "lips-retreating-from-enemy-fire" sort of look. I'm not sure which was worse.
posted by Kate at 11:42 AM link/comments
Today's Factoid: Bizarre Patents filed in the United Kingdom:
UK Patent Application No. GB2301524.
A "Contoured Ulterior Pouch" (CUP). -- The cup hides and augments a man's scrotum, but
has an opening leaving his penis free. "From time immemorial,"
says the inventor, "an integral element of the male psyche has
been his awareness of the presence or absence of pronounced
manly form in his loins. What man not generously blessed by
nature, would not wish for the carefree confidence of his more
robustly equipped fellows who suffer no modesty when their
manly form naturally draws envious glances." This is actually
like a trap door that exaggerates the "manly form".
posted by Kate at 8:52 AM link/comments
Tuesday, January 23, 2001
hi to kate's momma. it's like you've stumbled onto the other side of the tracks, and your car has broken down, and you only have a nickel and a can of shaving cream in your pocket. but there you are, so you may as well try and make the most of it.
in other news, i dutifully sent my little person to kate, though i must admit i was unduly flattered by the fact that they gave my body washboard abs. now, im not saying i dont wail on my pecs and otherwise keep my bod hot, but the truth is reading and writing arent things you can do in tandem with situps and pushups. for one thing, you sweat all over the books, and then your wheezing makes the librarians angry, and dont even get me started about the hallucinogenic mold in some of those older books. plus im sick right now, so you have to imagine my little man with a bright red upper lip and snot running out his nose like he's a fourth grader. because when im sick like this i feel like a fourth grader. sometimes i even eat paste. but the little man is there, and he looks reasonably like me.
we did my roommate james, too, and he looks like a carpenter. it was fun.
one of my fillings decided to abandon ship, and so i called the one dentist here who has been nice to me (who didn't, for instance, convulse into laughter when i asked whether he had any open appointments). it turns out he left town, and he told his other dentist friend that before i could be seen for any reason, i would need to undergo a "new-patient's checkup." this is an exciting $200.00 deal in which they take pictures of my teeth, scrape and poke at me without actually cleaning or fixing anything, and then tell me that i don't have any diseases. stuff i already know because i went to the dentist last year and had the same things done, but that was in ohio, and it was cheaper. only after taking me for this $200.00 would the dentist consider replacing the filling that has abandoned me. and the soonest they could make all this happen would be march. in other words, they were doing everything they could to screw me. so i called hundreds of other dentists before one lady said that she could fit me in on February second, and i promptly founded a religion to her. so from now on, when you pray before you sleep, pray to Dr. Jeanette Hayward, DDS. that's her religion name. i have masked her real name so that followers dont flood her and bother her at all hours. she's a private kind of deity.
parking tickets: before i was actually a student here at ISU, when i was scampering around turning in applications i got a ticket, but then i wrote "visitor" on it and i didnt have to pay it. score for me! at hiram one time i forgot i had parked my car on the street, so after scaling the hill down to the back lot and risking my life for nothing, and wandering around looking for my car, and then remembering that i had parked it on the street, and then searching the streets of hiram until i found the car with two parking tickets on it, i discovered not one, but two tickets on the fucking car. on one of them i wrote "my grandmother died," which i secretly hoped would make the police feel bad, but which was nevertheless true, as she had died recently before that. no word on whether the police did, indeed, feel bad. then there was the time i saw the phys plant vampires writing their tickets, and i didnt have a permit because, like with kate, it was a matter of principles, so i moved my car before they ticketed me and then warned all my friends who also didnt have permits, and i saved like five people from having tickets, and i short-changed the vampires out of more blood money, and i was so happy i nearly wept.
see? keep the definition of excitement, and happiness, and other words like that, keep the definition loose, and your life will be so much better. hiram taught me that.
posted by Paully at 5:09 PM link/comments
My mother is refusing to blog. She's suddenly developed a case of shyness and claims she has "nothing interesting to say." This from the woman who does a dead-on impersonation of South Park's Eric Cartman and says (in Cartman voice) things to my brother like, "Teddy, if you don't feed the dogs, I am gonna kick you in the nuts."
posted by Kate at 4:51 PM link/comments
Doorknobs. I hate doorknobs. Scientists need to come study our house, because it appears as though our humble home has become a breeding ground for some new doorknob-infecting disease. It all started with Mike's room. When we first moved in, we noticed that the doorknob would occasionally fall off for no discernable reason. This was all fine and good until the day that Mike closed his door at bedtime, woke up the next morning, turned the knob, and heard the sound of the doorknob clunking to the floor on the opposite side of the door. So there's poor Mike holding a severed doorknob and a bit perplexed about being trapped in his room. Fortunately, I was outside getting in my car to go to work at the time of the incident, and Mike was able to lean out his window and implore me in a very reverse-Rapunzel fashion to rescue him.
A few months later, we noticed a problem with the side door of our house, namely that the doorknob and latch were having some sort of domestic quarrel and refused to work together. This caused a very *ahem* amusing period in our lives wherein the door would occasionally open itself, and our cats would avail themselves of the opportunity to flee the house and hide under Holly's truck in the driveway. Eventually, the landlord's henchman "fixed" the door, which means that the door will remain closed, but only after the user of the door has swung it closed with such force that the entire house quakes.
So then there was the kitchen door. Our house, which should rightfully be a two-familly dwelling, has two staircases, the second of which has a deadbolt-enabled door at the top. We noticed one day that the doorknob to said door was hanging by a thread, so we contacted the landlord, who sent a henchman over. Henchman Eric's solution to this problem was to affix a new doorknob, then secure it by means of some putty-like material which he never bothered to file down or shape into anything remotely aesthetic. Doorknob works, but is surrounded by a strange alien substance which I am adverse to touch.
A short while later, the doorknob to our upstairs bathroom fell off and, as the doorknobs are the faceted glass variety, the inner knob of the doorknob duo hit the floor and a chunk broke off. For months, we kept a towel next to the bathroom door for the express purpose of doorknob handling. "Use the towel to open the door!" we'd warn guests, "We don't want you to slice your hand open!" Eventually, Henchman put the door into working order by attaching a new knob, which had apparently been harvested from other home or dump, because it was covered in tarnish and rust even at its installation.
A couple of months ago, the doorknob to the primary upstairs staircase door fell off. We occasionally reaffix it to the door, only to have it fall off again the next time someone opens it. Goes like this:
Door opens. Sound of glass doorknob hitting hardwood floor
Person Entering the Room (usually hopping up and down in frustration): Godammit! Son of a bitch!
The good news was that the landlord has evidently purchased a new doorknob for us (along with the front stormdoor he bought 3 weeks ago and has yet to install). Problem is that we can't find the damn thing. We're pretty sure he accidentally took it home with him and by this point (given his not-so-secret lifestyle) has probably fashioned it into some sort of drug parephernalia.
So this morning, as I was leaving for work, I turned the doorknob on the front door and (guess what!!!!) found myself standing in the foyer holding half of the doorknob to our front entranceway. I managed to screw it back on as much as possible, but I'm pretty sure it's a lost cause. No storm door. A front door that won't close properly. Thank God we have nothing anyone would ever want to steal.
posted by Kate at 4:42 PM link/comments
Hi Kate's Momma!
posted by Holly at 11:27 AM link/comments
Friday, January 19, 2001
Wait a minute. There is one way to offend my mother: Be her child, then get a tattoo, then be forced to tell her about it because you're about to go on vacation with her and she'll see you in a bathing suit and there will be no way you can hide the five-inch by three-inch tattoo on your upper left leg. That'll do it every time.
posted by Kate at 1:21 PM link/comments
Attention, all! The blog will soon be inhabited by a new member. In the interest of adding new and exciting elements to our bloggage, I've given my mother posting rights to this thing. Don't fear or fret. She's my mother, forgawdsake, and all of you have heard tales. It's impossible to offend her. Believe me. I've tried.
Although, come to think of it, it might be nice if the topic of conversation didn't wander into the category of "Dumb Shit Kate's Done While Under The Influence." Of course, one of my mother's favorite activities in college was doing drunken beer slides across the floors of fraternity houses, so she really has no room to judge.
*kiss*
Love you, momma.
posted by Kate at 1:16 PM link/comments
Thursday, January 18, 2001
junkers and hoopties? Kate's been using the special oregano in the spaghetti sauce again. Didn't get the job. Don't know what to do. Have $20 left.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 11:14 PM link/comments
Aha! Even better! The Official Homepage of Shaker Heights for Shaker Heights residents. Now we're on the inside track.
And check this out. Hardee har har. Apparently the city's adopting a plan to keep people from speeding on residential streets. If the plan works, and our fine law enforcement is suddenly able to put stop to the 900,000 eternally-honking junkers and hoopties that go tearing down our street blaring bass-injected music, I will officially be able to die, because I will have seen everything.
posted by Kate at 1:51 PM link/comments
Hot diggety! It's The Official Homepage of Shaker Heights, Ohio. Funny how they don't mention the semi-regular drug raids on our street or last year's horrific shotgun murder of a high school student.
Hey, housemates, apparently we reside in "Cleveland's most distinctive suburb." Damn. I guess there's nowhere to go from here. We've made it in the eyes of the Cleveland elite! Boo-yah.
posted by Kate at 1:41 PM link/comments
Everyone should shout loud words of love and encouragement to Holly, who began her ISIS program yesterday. For those who don't know, our little Holly wrote (and was approved for) a gigantic grant to fund a new program for high school girls. Program aims to prevent teenagers from getting pregnant. She had her first meeting with the girls yesterday, and all seemed to go well, but maybe she'll give a report if she ever posts anything to the blog again.
posted by Kate at 11:25 AM link/comments
Gawdalmighty. Hiram parking tickets. Melinda and I both have choice parking ticket memories. My senior year, after I finally got a car and kept it on campus permanently, I decided there was no way in hell I was paying $25 for a parking permit for the privilege of parking in the lot behind B-C given the fact that you had to look death square in the eyeballs every time you walked down that hill because it was always coated in ice, and given the fact that there was never a place to park, and given the fact that there were potholes that could swallow entire nations and patches of mud that turned any would-be grocery store expedition into the filth equivalent of a monster truck rally. So every once in awhile, Physical Plant would send their vampiric goons around during the wee hours to look for cars that didn't have permits. And I got like 12 tickets demanding a $25 fee and threatening to jeopardize my continuing higher education if I didn't pay up. I never paid. They gave me my diploma. And we still managed to steal those benches back from the fuckers. Yay, Paul.
I think I only had my car towed by the Hiram PD once for having like 6 unpaid parking tickets when I forgot to move my car from the street to the DeathLot.
So in Shaker Heights, they have this law that you can't park your car on the street between like 2 and 6 a.m., and it's all very heavily enforced because apparently, in Shaker, street parking is tacky and contradictory to the city's supposed image of goodness and diversity and lack of crime. What I found the most hysterical was the day we got a postcard in our mailbox from the Shaker PD. It said, "We noticed while on patrol that you've been leaving your garage door open. In our experience in law enforcement, this situation can invite a criminal situation." I almost split in half laughing. We don't ever close the garage door. First of all, if we did, the racoons who live in the eves of the garage would be extremely pissed off to be without their garagedoor foothold in the ceiling. Second of all, our garage currently contains the following: Zack's non-working mid-80s Chevy Celebrity; a seat from Steve's former van; a bunch of tires that don't seem to belong to anyone; the business end of a 12-cup coffeemaker; one broken wicker chair; one broken computer chair; the storm door the landlord bought to install on our front door that he's never actually installed; hunks of wood in varying lengths and colors; an old ferret cage that Zack's stepfather ran over with his car.
posted by Kate at 10:30 AM link/comments
Today on campus I got a parking ticket and I jumped in front of the DPS truck (Department of Public Safety, because me parking in an empty reserved spot was clearly an issue of public safety) in an attempt to get the DPS woman to cease writing the ticket. She was halfway out into the road and I was not letting her move while I exaggerated my status as a "visitor" to campus who didn't realize the spot was "reserved." I...hate...parking...tickets...Everyone tell a parking ticket story now. Fond memories of Hiram parking tickets are flooding back...
posted by Jen at 12:56 AM link/comments
Wednesday, January 17, 2001
Apparently Kate's not as ofay with blogger as she should be...... explore "safe mode", my darling..... all will be revealed......
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 2:11 AM link/comments
Tuesday, January 16, 2001
Grumph. It's not my fault, I swear. Blogger's being a rotten bastard ...
...email it to me. Your images will be used to redesign this page, which is currently giving me a boredom-induced headache. Go forth and design. Failure to do so will result in nagging, guilt-inducing emails.
posted by Kate at 3:03 PM link/comments
To further clarify what Bill said, here's the official assignment for all Six-Layer Kate Bloggers:
Go here and create a StorTrooper like the ones below to match your very unique personality and physicality. Then email it to me. These wonderous images will be used to redesign this page, which is currently giving me a boredom-induced headache.
Go forth and design yourselves. Not doing so will result in a series of nagging, guilt-inducing emails.
posted by Kate at 2:59 PM link/comments
Angel Soft toilet paper was manufactured by the gnarled hands of Satan himself. We were ensnared in its clutches for awhile before deciding that it was worth the extra 23 cents per roll for a brand that was somewhat thicker than medical gauze. We followed this with Kleenex Cottonelle, but Nat began a vicious campaign against it, stating that its ribbed texture caused his fingers to rip right through it. Nat evidently does not fuck around when it comes to the handling of toilet tissue. Now we use some kind of expensive stuff that comes in rolls the size of vehicular mufflers. We are so classy.
posted by Kate at 12:24 PM link/comments
It was bound to happen. Classes have resumed here at the university, which means I've been interrupted approximately 950 times this morning by confused students asking where their classes are. There's also a perpetual herd of screaming people outside my door.
In other news, everyone should keep fingers and toes and other extraneous appendages crossed for Bill, who has a second interview for a new job today.
posted by Kate at 12:18 PM link/comments
Uh, I watched the Wall a lot without even a drop of alcohol for enhancement, and I have to admit that I liked it. It was a high school thing, though. The theme of this week in Iowa is Leaks. The ceiling at work leaked all weekend, right into the middle of my classroom, and later into a series of buckets. Then our bathroom sink started leaking, prompting Paul to "save the water" with multiple containers. I, being the "voice of reason" time and again, called the landlord this morning after discovering that the leak had extended to pipes below the sink, effectively soaking four rolls of toilet paper. At least I know that our Angel Soft Toilet Tissue is truly absorbant.
posted by Jen at 12:13 PM link/comments
TheraFlu. I always thought that stuff was effective, but I haven't been able to drink it for the past 5 years or so. I had this nasty, evil case of strep throat my sophomore year at Hiram and TheraFlu was the only thing that made me feel even remotely better. So I swigged like 5 boxes of the stuff in the space of three days, and now the very thought of that hot tangy lemony flavor makes me a little green around the gills.
As for you, Schnookie Lumps (for those not in the know, Schnookie Lumps is Paul's preferred nickname. *snort*), I'm not sure I could get any sort of joy from pretending I'm a teenager. Of course, my teenage years consisted primarily of sitting around in various homes and Eat 'N' Park restaurants in New Kensington, Pennsylvania with a herd of Wiseass Boys and the occasional Wiseass Boy's girlfriend. Ahh...memories. Doing impersonations of the teachers I hated and playing Sympathetic Ear to Wiseass Boys, who have this annoying prediliction for falling in love with Very Pretty But Very Stupid Girls.
I really should have discovered marijuana in high school. I watched The Wall when I was 16, and I was stone-ass sober. The-Wall-while-sober is the worst movie ever made.
posted by Kate at 9:07 AM link/comments
Monday, January 15, 2001
There was a moment of excitement today, when Paul and I, sitting next to each other at our computers, had a nifty conversation via Yahoo Messenger, both thrilled to death that we could be verbally talking to each other but instead we were sending dumb messages via our computers. But I think that excitement is about to be topped by me guzzling some sleep-inducing TheraFlu (no flu, just the sniffles) and enjoying the new blue flannel sheets on the bed. I think Paul's right. I need to redefine the word "excitement" in my life. Flannel can be exciting afterall.
posted by Jen at 2:22 AM link/comments
Sunday, January 14, 2001
howdy all. here i am back from a period of monkish silence. im not sure anybody missed my speechifying, but i feel a little like a celebrity posting here, anyway. the prodigal son returns and all that. everyone love me.
jen is only pouting because she hasnt achieved the proper zen frame of mind for surviving winters in iowa. for example, the definition of excitement has been too ambitious for years now. excitement is really nothing more than eating pie at the village inn. or, as i learned last night, excitement is pretending youre a teenager again and watching pink floyd's The Wall while youre stoned. or drinking a lot.
one time, excitement was peeing off my back porch while smoking a rancid cigar and looking at the moonlit, snow-covered trees. also, i have some photos of myself experiencing excitement, and while i cant remember what i was doing in these photos, or even when they were takeni look like im either having a great time, or im really sleepy. so theres plenty of excitement here in iowa. especially if, like me, youve developed the powers of denial typically held by 50's housewives, who were able to convince themselves that raising children and vacuuming were the building blocks of a fulfilling life.
i feel so pretty today. dinner will be ready soon, honey.
posted by Paully at 11:50 PM link/comments
Hate me if you will, as i type it's a balmy 87 or so degrees, and at 10:15 am, I'm seriously considering a G&T - but it's your fault, Jen, because I wouldn't be thinking about it if you hadn't brought up Bombay Sapphire. Got a couple of job type phone calls to make this morning, then back to my life of sloth. We need to work on some form of matter transferral in which we can take the cabal house and bring it to Australia. Also word comes from on high. All bloggers must build a StorTrooper and email it to Kate or myself sometime in the next week or so. Major collaborative design project in wings.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 6:20 PM link/comments
Jen, I think it has something to do with it being winter in the midwest. The boredom eats at your brain until you surrender to a life of minivans and sending the kids to 4H meetings. I think that if anything exciting happened around here, I might die from the pure shock and happiness of it all. As I glance at my watch, I realize that it's just about time for my midwinter blues, the joyous post-holiday bout of depression wherein I acknowledge the fact that there's at least two months left of this nightmarish climate and decide that I will die if I have to face one more morning of ice-scraping and staring at the monstrous mounds of filthy snow that line all the roads in Cleveland.
Bombay Sapphire is damn good gin, though.
posted by Kate at 10:35 AM link/comments
I'd just like to report that there is nothing, NOTHING, nothing of interest happening in Iowa. Boredom is sapping motivation from my brain. On the other hand, I've come to enjoy Bombay Sapphire Gin and I bought some new shoes that have made me absurdly happy.
posted by Jen at 3:06 AM link/comments
Friday, January 12, 2001
*giggle* *smooch*
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 9:57 PM link/comments
So it seems as though it's Plague Week in the cabal. I was a big phlegmy, coughing, feverish mess last week. Jen was a big sinusy, phlegmy, feverish mess at the beginning of this week. Yesterday, some evil bug caught hold of Melinda's and Holly's digestive system. Consequently, their stomachs have revolted and remain strongly in "reverse" mode. So far, the boys seem well. Hmmm. Maybe the boys are trying to kill us. Fess up, boys.
posted by Kate at 1:28 PM link/comments
Kate's going to be at work in about ten minutes. Yay.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 8:22 AM link/comments
i wonder if i can get this to post, oh yeah ps have fun with these
get your own at StorTroopers
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 8:20 AM link/comments
Thursday, January 11, 2001
posting from the Melbourne equivalent of Grand Central Station, which is neither grand nor particularly central. Here to pick up theotherkate, because i'm such a nice guy. The movie's called Romper Stomper, and i expect a full report when you get to work tomorrow, Kate. smooches
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 11:19 PM link/comments
I have been involved for most of them, it is mostly Greg's assistant too. Ken is making the big decision anyway. I decided to not be involved - I thought it would be less awkward for my co-workers and Steve.
posted by Holly at 4:33 PM link/comments
OK, so this position Steve's interviewing for. Isn't it a position to be your assistant. If so, why the hell aren't you involved in the interview? I will never understand your workplace.
Today is a great day because I have absolutely nothing to do except work on my latest university website. And my boss is out of town and the students aren't back from break yet and the only thing I can hear is the Pavement CD I've got playing.
If anyone knows of a good website where I can steal slick java applets for navigation menus, contact me with extreme prejudice.
posted by Kate at 12:36 PM link/comments
Okay, define a surreal amount of being overly involved in roommates life:
Everytime something bad happens at work I do check the blog to ensure that there is still goodness and sweetness in the world. I don't post because at those points I usually have absolutely NOTHING nice or good or sweet to say. Let my roommates gasp in wonderment that I am actually holding back some complaints and general bitching. Anyway, I am blogging this while half listening to Steve being interviewed in the next room. He's been in there for an hour and a half. I'm hungry and figuring that if he gets out soon we could have lunch, but if he takes too long I'll have to go because I have to teach at 1:30.
On a good note, ISIS enrollment is going well. Pretty soon I will have 15 young female minds to expand and empower. I hope they don't hate me.
posted by Holly at 11:54 AM link/comments
All right, so I've been informed by a certain blogger that I haven't been posting enough for her satisfaction. Apparenly, Holly sits at work all day obsessively checking the blog and becoming very upset with me when I don't post. This is, of course, despite the fact that SHE doesn't POST when in the midst of her obsessive checking.
Housemates: Bill has issued some sort of Australian fatwa stating that we must rent a movie called Romperstomper about Australian skinheads. Sounds suspiciously like American History X. Apparently it features Russell Crowe at about age 21. This cannot be a bad thing. Whatever it is, it has got to be more palatable than The Cell (Jennifer Lopez movie Jen rented last night, for non-housemates). I had nightmares last night about chopped-up horses.
And Holly, your going-to-bed-early ass missed a fabulous Law & Order last night. One of the best I've seen since the sacred Chris Noth/Michael Moriarty era (*insert moment of silence here*).
posted by Kate at 10:32 AM link/comments
Holly, your jelly fascination reminds me of a game which i play sometimes called "getting in tourist photos" in which you run up behind a tourist taking a photo and get into it. The theory being that they will return home with their happy snaps and say to their friends "oh yeah, and this is this bizarre guy who just jumped into our photo" and then thier friends will say "fuck yeah, when we went to melbourne he jumped in out photo too" and i will be famous. by the same token, i've been inspired by kate's posting and want to share with you all one of my favorite poems, but it's not a poem, it's the lyrics to a song called "Little Wing", by Jimi Hendrix (who was actually by the way a fucking genius) and it makes me think about someone who posts on this site who i have a big crush on. Well she's walking through the clouds When I'm sad
With a circus mind that's running wild
Butterflies and zebras, moonbeams and fairytales
And all she ever talks about
Is riding with the wind
She comes to me
With a thousand smiles
She gives to me free
It's alright, it's alright, she says
Take anything you want from me
Anything you need
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 7:22 AM link/comments
Wednesday, January 10, 2001
From poetry.com's "Top 100 Poems of All Time," two I'd never read, but really like:
Denise Duhamel
Buddhist Barbie
In the 5th century B.C.
an Indian philosopher
Gautama teaches "All is emptiness"
and "There is no self."
In the 20th century A.D.
Barbie agrees, but wonders how a man
with such a belly could pose,
smiling, and without a shirt.
Frank O’Hara (1926-1966)
Why I Am Not a Painter
I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,
for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
"Sit down and have a drink" he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. "You have SARDINES in it."
"Yes, it needed something there."
"Oh." I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. "Where's SARDINES?"
All that's left is just
letters, "It was too much," Mike says.
But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven't mentioned
orange yet. It's twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike's painting, called SARDINES.
posted by Kate at 1:14 PM link/comments
Tuesday, January 09, 2001
The dress is just adorable.
posted by Holly at 3:55 PM link/comments
Actually, it does seem like an eternity ago to me. But there have been alot of changes in my life since then. You know of my recurring fantasy, Katy, you must be suffering from brain freeze. For those not in the know, I have, for five years nows, been occasionally afflicted with an overpowering urge to get in a car and ling handfuls of jelly at children playing in the street. The reasons are simple:
1. It's jelly. It is very unlikey anyone would get hurt.
2. It's jelly. Even if caught, I would probably get court-mandated counseling rather than jail time.
3. The children would be covered in jelly, sticky, and in stained clothes. They would have no recourse but to run to their mothers, who would e obviously upset that their little angels had so wickedly and purposely destroyed their outfits, and tell them that it wasn't their fault, that some random person had flung jelly at them from a passing car.
4. The mothers would never, ever believe it.
The children would learn that the world is an unfair, haphazard and cruel place with things going on it it that they can only dream of. It's what I've always liked about it. The rest of their lives they would wonder about it. The very youngs ones would forget, and it would become a story told at Xmas to future spouses about 'the most bizarre little lie Timmy came up with one year.'
posted by Holly at 3:53 PM link/comments
As for you, Melinda: I think this is all about a willingness to sacrifice. Quite frankly, I don't see you as the home-owning, talking-about-mortgage-rates kind of gal. However, the payoff to a three-year commitment to living and working in Maple Heights *shudder* is pretty damned substantial. I think it boils down to whether you're willing to suffer. Is it worth the $35,000 (or more) you'll end up with in profit at the end. Three years isn't that long when you think about it. Three years ago, we were beginning our second semester in #235. Doesn't seem like an eternity ago, does it? (Hmmm. On second thought, maybe it's best if many aspects of 235 were committed to distant memory.)
posted by Kate at 1:44 PM link/comments
OK, OK. When I posted the link to the dress I'm wearing for the wedding, I didn't realize theknot.com would require you all to sign away your firstborn to view it. I swiped it from the site, so click here .
posted by Kate at 1:34 PM link/comments
Holly. What the fuck. Elaborate on jelly-related fascination.
posted by Kate at 1:26 PM link/comments
It takes little to scare you, Bill. I am very disheartened. It's okay about your brother though, most guys who are flying across the world to meet their beloved are not interested in one-night stands with the roommate of their brother's object of affection. At least that's what Cosmo is always saying. I'm thinking I'm not gonna tell you abut my strange fascination with throwing jelly at children. . .
posted by Holly at 12:56 PM link/comments
Yes, Bill, but what you're forgetting here is that places like Fargo and Cleveland have one very enticing factor: Steve Buscemi. He was in Fargo, but his spirit manifests itself in Mike's tentacle. I swear. We live with le essence du Steve Buscemi. What more could you ask for? Aside from reasonable weather, decent school systems, and an efficient public transporation system?
posted by Kate at 12:20 PM link/comments
watching fargo to remind me about why i don't want to live anyplace where it's seriously seriously cold, like minnesota or cleveland.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 5:20 AM link/comments
Monday, January 08, 2001
OK. Kate, much as I love you and would do just about anything for you, I'm not going to sign up to the knot in an effort to see the dress you're going to wear for your uncle and almost-aunt's wedding, in Georgia, in September. Personally, I'm sure you'll look beautiful, especially in blue.
Melinda, buy the damn house. You'll never get a deal like this ever ever again in your life, and besides, I may need a place to crash if I ever get around to darkening your shores.
Holly, you scare me - I hereby withdraw permission for you to jump my little brother.
PS want pictures of whole scrubs bowling experience ASAP.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 6:52 PM link/comments
This is the dress I get to wear for my uncle's and almost-aunt's wedding in September. I think it's going to be blue, and I'm going to feel like a princess.
posted by Kate at 3:25 PM link/comments
Much chaos around the cabal this morning following a bathroom flood. On top of this, couldn't shower in usual shower because hot water heated is broken and slated to be fixed by one of the landlord's henchmen (a man Henchman Eric refers to as "Smart Jim." as you may gather, there's some sarcasm dripping from this title). Last time Smart Jim came to visit, he was supposed to put electrical outlets in Zack's room. Instead, he put electrical outlets in Holly's room. He's also been known to cut holes in walls and repair said holes with plywood rather than oh, say, drywall.
So I dash into the shower this morning and as I'm unused to using the upstairs shower, failed to take stock of the towel situation. Upon emerging from the shower, I realized that all towels had been used in sopping up the fruits of that morning's flood. Because I have no sense of foresight, I decided to towel off with my nightgown, which is a long fleecy sack-like thing. Fleece does not absorb water. In addition, because I choose to share my bed with three black-haired cats, the nightgown was also covered in cathair. Cathair that promptly transferred itself to my wet flesh. So there I am, standing wet, naked, and covered in cathair in a towel-less bathroom. Eventually, I leaned out the door and yelled to Mike and Steve, "Look. It's like this. I need to run naked through the house now, so please avert your eyes." And they made no effort to belittle me, because Mike and Steve are nice boys and I love them.
posted by Kate at 2:32 PM link/comments
Are you really asking for my input on this decision? Like I'm going to put my own selfish desies on a shelf and only think of your best interests? What the fuck are you smoking?
No. Don't buy a house.
Move to the wilds of Oregon with me. We'll go out at nights carrying fairy lights and playing halloween sound effect tapes and convince all the guys in the militia compunds they've seen aliens.
This is what I would consider a fulfilling life.
Again - are you sure you want my input?
posted by Holly at 10:24 AM link/comments
Saturday, January 06, 2001
much posting to blog while absent! It's good to hear from everyone again. We even saw Sean Tupa's bitch ass last night so we know he's still alive. Whipped, but surviving.
i made it home from Beantown without too much strife. Steve was kind enough to fetch me from the airport at 12:30 am after my flight was horribly delayed. But, the did fly me in first class. Big, squishy leather seats and all. No free liquor, though and I'm rather peeved about it.
So, newest life shattering decision. Need input and possibly some counseling. Do I buy a house?? I've rattled on about the HUD program to most of you. For those of you not subjected to my constant, redundant raving, I am in a position where I may be able to purchase a 70,000 dollar home for half price, under 3 year contract. The whole philosophical stance behind buying a home gives me the willies, though. Must commit and clean gutters. Yipes.
Fuck that, for now. Going to go put on scrubs and go bowling.
posted by Melinda at 7:34 PM link/comments
Thursday, January 04, 2001
home now, sunburned and tired - drove two hours out of my way to pickup thekate and bring her back to Melbourne for the weekend, we had a long, beautiful, frank, adult discussion on the four hour drive about our relationship and the reasons why it was doomed to failure (the primary one being left out for the moment by yours truly, for fear of an uncontrollable banshee in his car). All was going well until about an hour south of Melbourne when she burst into tears and said "yes, but i know all that now, and if i'm aware of it, then can't we be together anyway?" I guess that the whole time i've been dating her i've been trying desperately to treat her like an adult, whilst knowing deep down that she's a child. A highly intelligent child, but a child nonetheless. It's my fault, i know, for painting her pictures of a romantic life together, for taking her out and showering her with affection in a way which could only serve to bewilder and bedazzle her. Now i'm left with this petulant little girl who stamps her foot and whines......but whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy You can't imagine how badly i just want to get some closure, some cash and a plane ticket..... hangon gang, i''m coming.
posted by billyjoe noodle-bob at 4:21 AM link/comments
Wednesday, January 03, 2001
Dear God. If this is what the world thinks of us, I'm moving tomorrow. Jesus. It's not like I spend my evenings sidling up to the slophouse for some home-cookied hominy and a mason jar full of kentucky bourbon.
posted by Kate at 4:11 PM link/comments
Today's Sampling of Weird Shit People I Don't Know Send Me Via Email:
+----------------- Bizarre Condom Names -------------------+
1. Billy Boy (Germany)
2. Enormex (U.K.)
3. Euroglider (Netherlands)
4. Happy Face (New Zealand)
5. Honeymoon Super Stimulation (Germany)
6. Jiffi Exciter (U.K.)
7. Licks (U.S.A.)
8. Mamba (Sweden)
9. Power Play (U.S.A.)
10. Skin Less Skin (Japan)
posted by Kate at 3:12 PM link/comments
i was watching one of those TV magazine shows, and up popped a man who revealed--for free!--the perfect method for avoiding a hangover. he said all you had to do was drink half your body weight in ounces of water, which i interpreted to be four full bottles of my 32 oz water bottle, and then stuff yourself with vitamins, then drink the alcohol, then drink more water and stuff more vitamins into your now bloated body, and youll actually wake up feeling better than you did when you fell asleep. theres also something about drinking on a mostly empty stomach to avoid vomming. i can tell you first-hand that this method not only works to avoid hangovers, but also causes your penis to imitate a hose all night long. of course, the method really only works because youre too bloated to think about drinking alcohol, so instead you smoke marijuana and spend the evening marveling at how the human body works just like the water cycle diagrams you saw in the sixth grade. that night you dream about the ocean. you slosh when you wake up.
my real recommendation for hangoverphobes--drink three pint glasses of water before bed, or two pint glasses of Gatorade, and youll only wake up feeling heavy and a little stupid instead of deathlike. this method has never let me down, and your body absorbs all the water since it actually needs the water, as opposed to treating your esophagus-gastro-intestinal-tract-penis/urethra like a funnel. this method even helped avoid a hangover after a night of 5 shots of scotch, 5 pints of cider, several random drinks people tricked me into imbibing, and some colorful fluid the identity of which i'll never precisely know. i remember it tasted wonderful.
posted by Paully at 1:06 AM link/comments
Tuesday, January 02, 2001
Paully and Jen have returned from the splendor of Ohio to the splendor of Iowa and the splendor of our DSL connection. Ah. New accessories for our apartment include a huge and wonderfully tacky lamp that will hang from the ceiling of our bedroom, filling the love den with turqouise 70's pimp-daddy light; seven "amish" jars courtesy of my mom, who thinks I need storage places for pasta; and one of those medieval-looking candle holders that can hold eight (count 'em, eight!) candles. We saw Cast Away and the audience absolutely sucked. There was a guy behind us who kept saying, very loudly, "Holy Mackeral" everytime something happened, and apparently no one had ever seen blood before, since the sight of Tom Hanks bleeding under water earned gasps and retching from 80% of the audience. On New Year's Eve, Paul thwarted a hang over by successfully drinking almost 128 ounces of water BEFORE having even a nip of alcohol. It seems to have worked, but I'll leave the final analysis up to him.
posted by Jen at 10:59 PM link/comments
I really really think I'm going to die.
posted by Holly at 3:44 PM link/comments
Hmmm. First chicken salad of the new millennium was replaced by first chicken sandwich of new millennium. Decided to consume carbohydrates in an effort to soak up damage done to digestive system during insane weekend.
Things I have put into my body over the past 4 days:
* Bacardi 151 (again, damn Ben)
* Gin (I think I get to blame Will for this one, yes?)
* 75% of a bottle of Aussie shiraz (steve's xmas gift to me. yummy.)
Approximately 13 slices of white bread consumed while drinking to offset nausea
* An indian curry dish, bits of which are still surfacing from beneath my fingernails. My hands smell like a Tandoori restaurant.
* Absolut Peppar vodka
* A dozen cans of cheap Pittsburgh beer (rough estimate)
*grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup
*butterscotch schnapps
*coffee liqueur
*6,000 gallons of water
*Some weird "key lime pie" liqueur shit (jen's doing. natch.)
*champagne
*Grand Marnier
*11 cups of coffee
*Approximately 80 cigarettes.
Augh. What the hell is the matter with us? I think I'm getting too old for this.
posted by Kate at 12:54 PM link/comments
Damn. Holly has unearthed secret plot to keep Mike from having sex. Knew that sharp little bird would figure us out eventually. Must devise new nefarious scheme.
posted by Kate at 12:39 PM link/comments
1. I am fairly sure I am going to die before 5:30 when I can drag my sorry, alcohol sodden underslept whory feeling self home.
2. Melinda, I'm sure we can get you home, especially considering how I let the team down on the way there.
3. The last couple days have been like a French sex comedy/farce. And I have been very, very good at it.
and finaly:
4. Mike, do you have any idea why you having a woman in your room is so horrible for others? They seem to pick on you, although not this year, and only because I quickly volunteered to find Sara myself. Sometimes (most of the time) I feel I am not gettin' enough, but at least there is no militant conspiracy plotting against the possibility of me getting booty. I would feel pretty damn hurt if I were you.
posted by Holly at 11:34 AM link/comments
Melinda, what time is your sorry ass slated to arrive at Hopkins tomorrow? I'm sure someone will be happy to cart you home.
Ah, the first working day of the new millennium, and I'm sitting here eating my first protein bar of the new millennium and sucking down my first bottled water of the new millennium. Later I'm going to go to my first meeting of the new millennium and perhaps have my first chicken salad of the new millennium around midday.
So I reckon this means the holidays are officially over and done with. All for the best, really. Anymore of this shit and I'm going to need a liver transplant. Damn Ben and the 151 he brought into our home....
posted by Kate at 9:02 AM link/comments
Monday, January 01, 2001
So, Mike, any women in your bed last night? In any case, a happy New Year to all. I woke up at some godless hour this morning and drove to the beach to see the sun rise on the new millenium. All very symbolic and very fucking cold.
Things are good here in Boston. I truck out later this afternoon to go and see Leigh. Should be marvelous fun.
I hope the rest of the party last night was good. It sounded like things were off to a good start, keg and all. Missed all you house sorts and Sean but, I'll be home on Wednesday. Anyone feel like picking me up from the airport?
posted by Melinda at 2:48 PM link/comments