Drowning in Life. And Stuff.

I had yesterday off work. I slept in, folded laundry, cuddled the PuppyKitten, played tennis with my friend, walked dogs, told my homance happy 25th birthday and generally reveled in having nothing to do.

I had yesterday off because starting today I have 10 solid days of work, 2 of which will be 10 hour days catering 2 different weddings.

After those 10 days is the ManBear’s birthday (a glorious friday off to sleep in and have lots of sex and drink and carouse and blowitup big) followed by another day of partying. Sunday will then be spent celebrating in a secret birthday style. Monday I get to work again. And Tuesday.

Tuesday I fly to Boston.

To meet up with Caitlin.

To drive to BlogHer.

To meet up with everyone.

Then days spent reveling and a flight home monday evening followed by work Tuesday morning.

I feel like I’ll need a vacation from my vacation!

But I am also so breathtakingly excited!

See you there?

—

Here is a picture TO JAZZ IT UP ZATARANS STYLE

Ichabod is not amewsed wif your innernets ramblins! MOAR GRAVY!

Women I love

I’m doing an actual Follow Friday post because I feel like it.

SO THERE.

These are women I love and think you should follow.

Ive limited myself to five because, lets be honest, I love me some ladies. LALOTS. These are women I feel more connected to than most, women I consider friends/ho-mances/lovers/boobie buddies. You’d like them. AND NOW I WILL TELL YOU WHY. In NO particular order.

Also, this is by NO MEANS a complete list. If you aren’t on it, its not cause I dont love you. Its probably more likely that I just am lame and didnt think of you at the moment I wrote this. Sorry. I STILL LOVE YOU PLEASE DONT HATE ME KISSES KISSES?!

1. Miss Grace

Jenny is without a doubt one of the funniest ladies Ive ever met. And I do mean MET. Sometimes when we take our lunch walks and shes all OH MY GOSH YOU ARE SO SLOW it is only because I am laughing so hard. SO STOP SHOUTING YOU JERK. also her son is one of the cutest things ever. Like really. He could win contests or be in magazines or something. AND she is a fantastic writer. A personal writer. I can hear her when she writes. I would totally get in a fight to defend her. Not her honor though. Cause thats not my fight. But i would totally cut a ho in a bar fight. if id had a drink. And she didnt want to bother. Or care. Cause she might not.

AND! She has truly encouraged me in bloggy ways. In sassy, DONT BE A DUMBASS NO ONE HAS A LOT OF READERS WHEN THEY START OUT AND IF YOU DONT GO TO BLOGHER I WILL CALL YOU A PUSSY. I WONT CARE BUT I WILL TOTALLY CALL YOU OUT ON IT kind of ways. Yes.

2. Miss Miss

Oh Miss Miss. Known to most people as “Just One Miss” i have coined the new name and demanded friendship. In a shy demand-y kind of way. Miss Miss was one of the first people I ever followed on Tumblr and she is one of the most welcoming and wonderful people I could have hoped to have found. Shes funny and silly and despite her love of the dodgers I would totally make out with her.

3. Mommy Geeks!

Caitlin is quickly becoming one of my go-to ladies. She is open and accepting and non-judgmental but still snarky enough to match my need for bitching.  Shes a rockin’ mom and an awesome geek (check out Rent a Geek) and website-er-er. And so cute!

PLUS! We are road-tripping to NY for Blogher in august! EEE!

4. GrumbleGirl - even though i usually spell it GrumblrGirl for some reason. GG, or TT as I often call her, is one of those ladies you/I aspire to be. She is incredibly funny and bright and makes me smile. Id known her for a day and I had already told her “I think I love you”. We instantly clicked. Plus her children are gorgeous and shes an amazing writer and loves shoes and helps me stay calm and and and!

You will love her I promise.

5. Meghan. Meghan. My ho-mance. My bestie. My lady-friend boobie-wife. Hater of those I hate. Lover of those I love. Mother of Desmond the Big Fat Black Cat. Meghs. Meggy MacFeggy. Meghan is braver than I will ever be and smart. Like wicked smart. Shes also very modest. She will move mountains and make these huge life-altering changes and not tell you until you are like MEGHAN OH MY GOD WHAT YOU JUST DID and she’ll be like YEAH OK WHATEVER LETS GO MAKE FUN OF PEOPLE. She tells you what she thinks and means and isnt shy about it. She has my back more than anyone else I know. And I will defend her and bitch with her to the best of my abilities for the rest of my life.

Also she got me this awesome best friends matching smiley-face cupcakes necklace that is SO TOTALLY AWESOME AND NERDY AND HO-MANTIC AND I LOVE IT.

and those are 5 random awesome ladies that i love and you will too.

Happy Friday!

Trying to explain Nate, My Hobo, My Brother.

Nate: dear Kat

I’m seriously considering joining the French foreign legion

What are your thoughts?

Me: you don’t speak French

—

Nate is a boy. In every sense of the world, Nate is a boy. At 22 he hasn’t grown past the age of 13 mentally. Not in the idiot sense, because somehow Nate is really smart. But no, Nate is 13, still trying to look up skirts and down shirts, valiantly struggling to find a “centering experience” and his drive. He has been homeless and broke, worked as a photographer, a ski-lift operator, an escort. He choreographs and costumes elaborate dance routines with his best friends. He violently rejects the Mormonism his family (tried) to raise him in. He tries to hide the white-knight complex he devotes solely to people he decides are worth loving, but doesn’t always succeed.

Luckily for me, I’m one of those people. The day I realized that’s what he was doing, my heart was happy because I knew that no matter what happened, I would have Nate forever.

—

Our relationship is one of the weirder ones I’ve had in my life. The quick and dirty of it is that I met him at a party and he was my rebound the evolved into something all the more odd due to his prior rebound status. Nate and I used each other physically and emotionally and we both knew it.

I got over the ex, and Nate moved on as well. And lost his housing. And moved in with me. My Hobo. The Hobo of My Heart.

Around the same time, and partially because I felt Nate having a place to live was more important that my housemates xenophobia being respected, I had a huge falling out with my best friend from college. She refused to acknowledge her depression had anything to do with the fact that we were spending less time together (read: ANY), and I was less than delicate. (It didn’t / doesn’t help that she works for my ex either.) So I looked for places to live while Nate looked for places to work.

And I found an apartment with a housemate ok with the fact that I had a hobo coming with me.

And I started dating the ManBear and Nate continued dating an odd collection of women with dreadlocks and lesbians, of co-op living hippies and bitch-faced blondes.

And we went out to the bars. And we drank and we laughed. And Nate took pictures, and I bought his alcohol and food. And he got a job and brought home pie, and discovered the wonders of Bourbon. And I had a fight over nothing with the ManBear and drunkenly cried at the bar on a Tuesday, and went to the bathroom. And the bartender asked Nate if his sister was ok.

And then I had a brother.

And people tell us how much we look alike (we don’t) and how they can tell we are great friends (we are). They don’t flinch when I mention I grew up in Oakland minutes after Nate finishes stories about growing up in Utah’s winter. They never make the connection.

And we grin at each other, sharing in our private joke, and continue on our way.

—

Oh his birthday, I baked him a Chocolate Bourbon Cake, drenched in bourbon glaze. He ate almost half of it and was tanked.

“I didn’t realize you meant it had that much bourbon in it.”

—

Some people who know us think our relationship now is creepy. “You’ve slept together and now you’re siblings?”

But it’s different than that. The important points of our relationship aren’t the sex. Our relationship is about being there for each other, and we are. I go to him with problems as often as I go to the ManBear or to Meghan or my actual sister. He comes to me more than his family.

We are a little, odd, incestuous family of our own.

—

I had a dream, months ago. Before Nate moved back to Utah, dated a girl he found on craigslist, and launched a career-based website.  Before he decided he needed a centering experience in his life and that the best option was the French Foreign Legion.

I dreamed that Nate was in my wedding, years from now. He was one of my bridesmaids, dressed in a lovely gown, tucked at the end of the line. He picked it out himself.

Guest Post: “Place for One (and a cat) Please”

my friend SassyM of “Chronicles of an (Almost) Graduate” brings us this glorious post about the joys of living alone, and the horrors of having to share. Especially with stinky boys.  Read. Or else.

Disclaimer:

The following post encompasses everything I have grown to hate about
living with people.  These are things that do not pertain to a certain
house or living situation.  If you have lived with me and can’t handle
it, don’t read the rest of this.  I also am aware that I do things
that probably have annoyed the crap out of people I have lived with,
like stealing their food.  I am the food stealer housemate.  Yep if
its gone or seems less full, it was most likely me. Unless you live
with a stoner then maybe not.

Lately I’ve been having wild fantasies of taking my cat and moving
into a studio/one bedroom place that I can afford.  I stress the word
fantasies.  It would smell like nothing, or I suppose sometimes like
delicious food cooking, and would only consist of me picking up my own
things (well except for cleaning the litter box).  I would have a
bathroom, one that would consist only of my hair and dirt and that I
could not feel disgruntled about cleaning.  No pubic hair around the
toilet seat, no left open toothpaste.   I would be able to actually do
my make up in the bathroom and the walls would not be covered in black
spots of mold or cob webs or generally just be disgusting.  The shower
wouldn’t be in desperate need of replacement and the drain oh the
drain it would drain like it is suppose too.  The water would come out
the faucet and then without stopping drain away.  There would be no
smell of urine or leaking toilet water.  There wouldn’t be other
people’s shit (yes I said shit, because if it is not my stuff, it is
shit) laying around the common areas.  And the kitchen, oh man the
kitchen, counters would be clean all the time as well as the sink.
The trash area would not have gum stuck on it.  The fridge would
contain only my food and there wouldn’t be rotting leftovers shoved in
the back belonging to someone else.  My couch wouldn’t be sexed upon
by others, my coffee table left free of ash.  My kitchen wear properly
cleaned after use.  The sink would be wiped down after the dishes were
done. I would only hear maybe other people in their own apartments
being loud,  of which I could just call security or the cops to make
them shut up.  I could even walk around naked!  Omg it would be
like….not living with other people.

So for all of you who have lived alone, is it glorious?  And if you’re
married without kids, is it still glorious?  Am I hitting a stage of
normalcy in wanting to live alone?

Best of ’09 (Part 1)

1. Trip.

2009 didn’t include a lot of trips for me. Not that I stagnated but I think I was simply happy to exist in the life I was making here in Santa Cruz.

I’d visit Oakland, hit the city, see my family on holidays, but there weren’t many trips. Those that happened were short weekends away, which may be why they’re harder to remember than I want them to be.

The trip that pops out most is the trip Jesse and I took to Los Osos to visit his dad and step-mom. It was relaxing. It was a step away from what I was used to, though he’d lived there. It was a breath of his family that I had yet to see. His dad and step-mom at home, perfectly clicking together and operating as a team; his sweet and aging Grandfather looking through a photo album, listening to the voice of his wife from the past sing Christmas songs; the dog snuffling everyone. I came to love them all so much more on that trip.

2. Restaurant moment.

This one is a tie, though they both happen to be at the same place. I was tempted to say any meal at Planet Fresh, but thats different.

My first favorite Restaurant Meal of the year is Fried Chicken at the 515. It happens every Thursday and it is delicious. Caleb fries a pile of chicken in the perfect crispy crunchy batter and serves it with an ultra-smokey bacon gravy I could eat with a spoon. The combination, paired with your favorite cocktail, knocks you over. The only downside is that Fried Chicken doesn’t start until 11pm and goes quickly. It’s hard to get motivated to get there that late, but it’s always ALWAYS worth it.

The other favorite (I wont call it my second favorite because it’s not, it’s still tied!) restaurant moment was an anniversary dinner with Jesse at the 515. I don’t remember which anniversary of course, not that we’ve had all that many – I just simply don’t remember. We’d had a long day of driving or loafing (Can’t remember that part either) and somehow decided to take ourselves out to a nice dinner at the 515 in out schleppy clothes.

We started with cocktails, and munched on the Lambjoun (spiced lamb on baked flatbread with feta and pine nuts – a delicious and gamey combination).  After we shared a Hearts of Romaine salad with roasted cashews, artichoke hearts (of which I graciously allowed Jesse to eat the majority) and parmesan cheese with a vanilla vinaigrette. It was refreshing and light. To finish the meal, we had a delicious ravioli in a creamy sauce, used mainly as an excuse that we’d had a full enough meal to justify dessert. Dessert – chocolate lava cake, and the best one you will ever have, served with vanilla ice cream.

We didn’t talk much through the meal,  but we did hold hands for most of it. It was one of the most comfortable and comforting meals I’ve ever had. Just the two of us in the Miles Davis room, lounging on couches, watching people from the windows, eating food and existing.

3. Article.

I don’t think it counts as an article, but my favorite PSEUDO article has to be Boston.Com’s Big Picture, which regularly posts photo collections (at the moment they’re running THEIR best of 2009 as well). Some pictures are funny or inspirational, others are a punch in the gut, but they are always amazing and interesting.

4. Book.

This one is easy for me. I was introduced to the series A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin and havent looked back. They are, without a doubt, some of the best books I have ever read, both in writing style and in plot. Martin creates real characters that develop in real ways. His plots intertwine like plots should, and he always ALWAYS leaves you gasping for more.

The series opens with A Game of Thrones and keeps its pace, plot and character driven narrative through the continuing three novels (each a hefty 900+ pages). Sadly, Martin has paused after this 4th installment and is being VERY SLOW (much to my chagrin) in getting around to releasing the next book. It’s frustrating but is balanced by the fact that HBO has optioned Song of Ice and Fire for a pilot so fingers crossed on that! I highly HIGHLY recommend checking them out.

5. Night out.

The best night out of 2009. For some reason this is a much harder one than the ones before. I think for simplicity sake, I’m going to say my birthday weekend was the best night out (despite it being 2 days). The first night, my closest Santa Cruz friends and Jesse’s siblings, and the two of us of course, dressed up all fancy and went out. It was wonderful to be able to be with most of the most important people in my life for my birthday, and in general. I felt very loved.

The next night we schlep-ed it and stayed low-key. Jesse and I met up with Meghan at a bar and just hung out for a little and had an awesome time.

The best nights are those spent with people you love and who love you. And they were both nights like that.

(Next time: Part 2 of Gwen Bell’s #BestOf09!)