New address:

The latest incarnation


come visit, won't you?

Just moved.

Hey all.
Gonna switch addresses or similar soon. I'll shoot you all an email with the new one. Stay tuned.

Well, I shouldn't say you all, per se. But you know what I mean.

Thanks for reading. I'm done with life effing me in the a.

Hot pot of coffee!

Just spilled a huge cup of coffee. Not on my desk, thankfully but on the rug. Looks like a friekin Newfoundland took a leak next to my filing cabinet. That's great. Yet another final interview tomorrow. Different company this time. I've received instruction to be "warmer." I am not, in general, the warmest of people. Indeed, I am often cold and surly. Tim will attest to this, given his initial impression of me. Alas. This job though could be sweet. Walking distance from my apartment. Really nice people. Nice money. Good benefits. Business casual. Only a small number of garments would thus need to be purchased. Wish me luck. Coincidentally, I will be interviewing with a man also named Tim.

In other news, I have Mr. Brown for the week. He let me sleep in today so I took him on a long walk. He's very cuddly. And he asks for so little. And he's always happy to see me, no questions asked. It's very nice.

Bark twice if you're in Milwaukee.

Good news says psychiatrist this AM. As Nic had suggested to me a few months back, my 10-15 pound weight gain over the last two years is due to the medication I'm on. Anti-depressants make you fat.

I went to my first session with him since March and we went over the basics. Job, money, love life, sleeping, eating.

"How's your appetite?"
"Great. I've gained some weight, though. Is that -"

Doctor nods emphatically.

"Yes," he says. "Has it been over the last two years?"
"Yeah and I can't get rid of it."
"Do you work out?"
"Yeah, almost every day."
"That's what it is."

I celebrated this confirmation with a post-session donut. Since I've been "healthy" for almost two years now, we're due for another session in late July to start weaning (sp?) me off the meds. I'm very excited about this, for multiple reasons. But, honestly, I'm just tired of this layer of blubbery dimpled flesh hanging over my once-toned abs and NEVER-toned but less huge thighs. And let's not even discuss my ever-widening ass.

I'm tired of getting zits in my ears. I hate my job. I'm still broke. But the writing, revising and DOING is going great.

In addition, because I had so little money last week, I couldn't do laundry or dry cleaning. I'm currently wearing a bathing suit bottom. And if you think FOR A SECOND that a bathing suit bottom from FOUR YEARS AGO is comfortable . ..

I pooped a cornish game hen

good morning, readers.
I'm going to take this opportunity to try to put links within a post and then attempt to put links on my actual blog. babysteps, people, baby steps.

Today is Bagel Wednesday! Brought to me by the good people of the EAC: Employee Activities Committee. I have consumed 1.5 bagels. Let's see what this looks like in terms of my ever-expanding gut and thighs:

[URL=http://www.calorie-count.com/calories/item/53183.html]calorie count[/URL]

did that work? I guess I'll find out when I publish.

In other news, I had a brief glimpse into NYC's novelty this morning. A quick flashback to how I felt when I first moved here. I was pulling my crappy umbrella down, juggling a homemade iced coffee and leather tote while cursing my hangover and there it was. Too tangible to be nostalgic, too fast to be savored . . . but there nonetheless.

When you live here, you have a tendency to associate neighborhoods with people and times. I used to associate this great bar called Rufus with The Fat One as we had our first kiss there and now I go there with many other people so it's lost that initial association. Although I associate Park Slope with asshole Jim Burger and my first apartment in New York (I think if I walked down 4th Street between 8th and the Park I'd probably weep for want of that simpler, debt-free existence and legs that could still run in that gorgeous park even if I was an idiot back then), I associate it now with John and Nic's apartment. And there are quite a few bars that have spanned my six-year (7? dear god) stay here. The circle expands. You gain people, some folks are swapped out, some move and some you just lose. The backdrop, it seems, though, is this city. It's bigger than all of it. And there's something comforting about that. It's far too universal to be solely your own and when the mere thought of a certain block or statue or restaurant is far too painful, it becomes something else. Thank God.

Antony and Cleopatra!

So I was on the blogger homepage looking at blogs of note, wondering, with tongue firmly in cheek, why this blog wasn't listed. Some of the blogs of note aren't even blogs, for christ's sake. And they have themes like "Lost" or "Science" or "woodring" or whatever. What about the everyman blog? The blog that bitches about one's family, one's workplace, one's lover (well, I don't do that one actually .. but I have!), one's lack of money, one's flatulence, one's weightgain, etc.

Where? Where does that blog fit in .. in the blogs of note? Where is it to be found? Nowhere I tell you! Nowhere! Whores! Ne'erdowells! Nincompoops! I shake my fist in your direction and bellow mightily. Had I my now-traditional 4pm gas, I would push one out into the blogging cosmos with a riotous "amen."

In other news, I yesterday listed 10 tangible goals to be fulfilled this week, all related to my writing career. I have done one of them today and shall have another one done before the dayis over. Blogs of note indeed.

Great Odin's Raven

Lobster also makes me gassy, I'm not gonna lie to you. To welcome Big Ron back to NYC, we went to 6pm mass and then to the Palm for a lobster special. 4lb lobster plus salads and sides and coffee. Dad had his scotch, I had wine.

I continue to be mystified by my sister-in-law. Just before my trip to Florida last weekend, she complained that "your brother and I have stopped planning things for your arrival because your sister always monopolizes your time," suggesting that I should feel guilty for spending time with my sister. When I do spend time at my sister-in-law's house, there are no family meals, no food in the house that I feel comfortable consuming. . .for example:

Kath: "ooh. diet coke. may i?"
brother: "sure, it's for guests. we don't drink it."
5 minutes later
sister in law: "did you open the diet coke?"
Kath: "uh, yeah. Brother said it was okay. Is it not okay?"
sister in law (sniffs): "no,that's fine."

So, on the one hand, I'm not treated like a guest because I'm expected to help take care of the children and on the other hand I am a guest because I should ask before I consume something. It's very puzzling. And unless I go hunting/gathering through the kitchen myself, I'm not going to eat. But I have to ask first. It's very frustrating. And then she wonders why I want to spend time with my sister and her husband, who have food and drink in wild abundance and actually like to relax and have a good time. If I pour a glass of wine at my sister in law's house she thinks that I'm a drunk and that the children have driven me to drinking.

Something else that annoys me: people who call me and then say "hold on."

Bartending went quite well. I can pop a bottle with the best of them. And I'm fast. So, in essence, my saturday night paid for itself My co-worker, who had hired me for the gig, told me he wanted to marry me. This is not the first time he has said this. For those of you who know about my recent run-ins with men and marriage, this is all the more confusing. Someone who barely knows me outside of a work context declares his undying love and yet . . .