That place... you know, the one that you keep yourself too busy to go to. When you are scheduling errands and play dates and barbecues and work and groceries and gymnastics and phone calls and birthday parties and... well, you get the idea... anyway, when you are scheduling all of those things and then you suddenly realize you are done. Everything has been scheduled, everything has been done. You are caught up. You have completed all of the things you needed to complete. You can stop. You can sit down and do nothing for a little while. You can take a break and breathe.
I used to crave this time. This few weeks of unscheduled sanity, when the girls and I could head to the coast or watch movies or catch up on whatever we are reading or lay in the grass and wait for butterflies... whatever. It was free time, the end of Summer. The only real time to enjoy Summer. Those few precious weeks when you can sit back and realize that the end of Summer had come and it was yours to soak up and enjoy before it ended and the monotony of responsibilities were back for us all. Before homework and sports and Student Council and friends... before it was all back.
And instead of enjoying it, instead of relishing these last few weeks of freedom, I am hating it. I am loathing the every free second I have because I don't want that time alone with myself, with my thoughts, with any of it. I am trying in vain to make myself incessantly busy and to no avail. I worked seven hours of overtime this week and wanted more, I want to bury myself, my thoughts, in work so I don't have to be alone with them. I want to run around to a hundred different places and run a thousand different errands, if only to keep myself too busy to notice that picture. I want house work and homework and yard work so I don't have to remember that one time when...
But, I don't have anything to do. I am caught up with everything at home, with friends, with the girls, with everything. And pushing for any more busy time will just make me miss out on being home and I can't do that to the girls. So here I am. I have reorganized closets and toy boxes and cabinets. I have rearranged furniture and books and shelves. I have dusted and scrubbed and painted. I have went through old clothes and organized dressers. I have taken my vacuum apart and vacuumed every part of the house.
My check book has been balanced to the day for weeks, I don't forget things when I leave the house anymore nor do I forget things that the girls need. Our winter clothes are bagged up in the closet, movies are alphabetized, sheets and blankets and spare sheets and blankets are washed and folded and put away. Emails are all returned, folders on my PC are all organized, phone calls to people I forget to call are made.
Everything is done. And some of it even redone.
All the sand has finally made its way through the hour glass and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to deal. I can't sleep. Is this what everyone meant? Is this where it was all headed? Thinking I had everything under control until I realized that I do actually have everything under control yet nothing is under my control at all?
My room is clean, but there, mixed in with my clothes and my pictures and my room is her stuff. Her clothes, her shoes, her nic-nacs, her letters, her makeup, her... just her. I don't ever not think about her. All day. Her picture on my desk has a recording of the voicemail from her cell phone. I can't listen to it. I don't have to because simply looking at her picture is enough.
I guess I thought surrounding myself with her things would cause me to build up an immunity to the power they have over me and yet it doesn't. It still hurts just as much to look at her smiling at me and know that is as close as I will ever be to seeing that smile again. To read the post card that she sent me that is sitting on my dresser and know that is as close to a conversation as I will ever get again. To open that bag of clothes and know that smell is the closest I will ever get to hugging her again.
Is this why I can't sleep? Because I am finally finished catching up... I am caught up now and I have to face myself again. I have to be alone sometimes again. Painfully alone.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
I'm there
Saturday, July 30, 2005
I used to have insomnia...
Many years ago, I used to have really horrible insomnia. I couldn't sleep for anything. Of course, looking back, it seems fairly clear that the reason for that was the insane amount of stress I was under.
So, why is it back?
I am not overly stressed... and yet, I just lay there and lay there and lay there.. waiting for sleep.
So, why is it back?
I am not overly stressed... and yet, I just lay there and lay there and lay there.. waiting for sleep.
Going to try and get some sleep. Hope you guys have a great weekend...
~K
Friday, July 29, 2005
I am bummed...
So, because I am a loyal and adoring fan of Rob Thomas and Matchbox Twenty, I receive these emails sometimes updating me on the goings on of their music and tours and things of that nature. And today, I get an email saying that they are celebrating Rob Thomas' debut by selling numbered plaques signed by him. Only ten available. And, you know what? I am broke. Couldn't they have done this six months ago when I would have frivolously spent a couple hundred bucks for it? Or even the fifty or so for the signed cd? Nope. So totally blows.
~K
To Earthward
Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air
That crossed me from sweet things,
The flow of- was it musk
From hidden grapevine springs
Down hill at dusk?
I had the swirl and ache
From sprays of honeysuckle
That when they're gathered shake
Dew on the knuckle.
I craved strong sweets, but those
Seemed strong when I was young;
The petal of the rose
It was that stung.
Now no joy but lacks salt
That is not dashed with pain
And weariness and fault;
I crave the stain
Of tears, the aftermark
Of almost too much love,
The sweet of bitter bark
And burning clove.
When stiff and sore and scarred
I take away my hand
From leaning on it hard
In grass and sand,
The hurt is not enough:
I long for weight and strength
To feel the earth as rough
To all my length.
~Robert Frost
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air
That crossed me from sweet things,
The flow of- was it musk
From hidden grapevine springs
Down hill at dusk?
I had the swirl and ache
From sprays of honeysuckle
That when they're gathered shake
Dew on the knuckle.
I craved strong sweets, but those
Seemed strong when I was young;
The petal of the rose
It was that stung.
Now no joy but lacks salt
That is not dashed with pain
And weariness and fault;
I crave the stain
Of tears, the aftermark
Of almost too much love,
The sweet of bitter bark
And burning clove.
When stiff and sore and scarred
I take away my hand
From leaning on it hard
In grass and sand,
The hurt is not enough:
I long for weight and strength
To feel the earth as rough
To all my length.
~Robert Frost
Thursday, July 28, 2005
My only wish.
Maybe it is too soon, maybe it is morbid, maybe I am paranoid... but even with all the 'maybes' out there, I can't help it. Veronique's death shone a huge spot light on how close death can be to me. I could be all noble and brave and shit and say that when my time comes it comes and no amount of worrying will change that. But the fact is that I am mortified of dying. Not because of me so much, but because of my girls. I am it for them.
Their fathers range from nonexistent to barely keeping in contact. And the thought of something happening to me and my girls being shipped off to where ever in one of the most emotional times in their lives scares the ever loving shit out of me.
Even if my family were to have some or all of the custody, I am unsatisfied.
You see, dear reader, I pride myself in the fact that I am good parent. When I do leave this world that is all I want to leave behind, anything else is just a bonus. I want my daughters to look back and say "she was the best mom". That is all. I don't need anything else. I don't have to be remembered as the best anything else. So, you see, this is where my attention is focused, this is where my drive to succeed comes from. I am nothing with out them. I would sacrifice my life for any one of my daughters on any day, with out a second thought.
But what if I am gone? Who else would do that for them? Who else would be that person who would love them so unconditionally and so unselfishly and so completely? Who would sit down with them and discuss their lives and their feelings and their fears and honestly care with all that they have if not me? Who else will watch them sleep and brush their hair away as they think there is nothing more beautiful on this planet? Who else will laugh at their corny jokes or feel the same unmoving tooth and declare that it will come out any day now? Who will show them how to love with all their hearts and trust their instincts and laugh when they're happy?
No one can parent them the way I want them to be parented. I have been called 'anal' many times for the amount of attention I pay to things, but nothing even begins to rival my mothering. I am almost positive that no one will ever love my kids the way I do and that no one could ever be the parent I am to them. So, my biggest fear is that I won't be here for them. That I won't get to see them all graduate, that I won't get to instill the virtues and values into them that I think they need, that I won't get to help them establish the core of the person they will become.
If I have nothing else in my life, I just want to be their mother until they are all old enough to take care of themselves. That is my wish. The only wish that matters. Keep money, keep fame, keep it all. I just want time. Time to be their mom.
Their fathers range from nonexistent to barely keeping in contact. And the thought of something happening to me and my girls being shipped off to where ever in one of the most emotional times in their lives scares the ever loving shit out of me.
Even if my family were to have some or all of the custody, I am unsatisfied.
You see, dear reader, I pride myself in the fact that I am good parent. When I do leave this world that is all I want to leave behind, anything else is just a bonus. I want my daughters to look back and say "she was the best mom". That is all. I don't need anything else. I don't have to be remembered as the best anything else. So, you see, this is where my attention is focused, this is where my drive to succeed comes from. I am nothing with out them. I would sacrifice my life for any one of my daughters on any day, with out a second thought.
But what if I am gone? Who else would do that for them? Who else would be that person who would love them so unconditionally and so unselfishly and so completely? Who would sit down with them and discuss their lives and their feelings and their fears and honestly care with all that they have if not me? Who else will watch them sleep and brush their hair away as they think there is nothing more beautiful on this planet? Who else will laugh at their corny jokes or feel the same unmoving tooth and declare that it will come out any day now? Who will show them how to love with all their hearts and trust their instincts and laugh when they're happy?
No one can parent them the way I want them to be parented. I have been called 'anal' many times for the amount of attention I pay to things, but nothing even begins to rival my mothering. I am almost positive that no one will ever love my kids the way I do and that no one could ever be the parent I am to them. So, my biggest fear is that I won't be here for them. That I won't get to see them all graduate, that I won't get to instill the virtues and values into them that I think they need, that I won't get to help them establish the core of the person they will become.
If I have nothing else in my life, I just want to be their mother until they are all old enough to take care of themselves. That is my wish. The only wish that matters. Keep money, keep fame, keep it all. I just want time. Time to be their mom.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
I have a new addiction.
too soon
Ok, I am not sure how PC this topic is but since this is my blog and it is my issue, damn it, here is where I will talk about it.
My oldest daughter and I were driving to gymnastics a few weeks ago when she looked over at me and said, "I can't wait until I am eleven." I thought eleven? I mean, ten I get - it's double digits, thirteen I get - it's teenaged... but eleven? So, I asked her to elaborate. And she tells me that when she is eleven, she will have boobs.
I laughed a little and told her that she would probably not have boobs until she was thirteen or fourteen (or twenty one if the deal with the devil and my soul goes through). She disagreed stating that she thinks she is already getting boobs. I told her that she would know because it hurts when you get them.
Then I started paying attention and noticed that she is right. Oh. God. No. I don't know how graphic is too graphic here... but my daughter is eight (she will be nine in November) and she shouldn't have anything even slightly resembling breasts for many years (in my humble opinion, which apparently means jack shit). However, she is... softening up - for lack of a better term. I had noticed that she is putting on a little weight and when I say little, I mean, literally, a little. Usually when this happens, I can expect a growth spurt. She is healthy and active and normal and all those great kid things. But, the changes in her chest area, not from the weight. I can see where things are changing.
I am staring at my daughter's chest. All the time. I don't mean to, but she will be talking to me and I am trying to see if anything has changed. And god damnit, nothing should be anything because. she. is. eight!
Let me say this clearly - I AM NOT READY FOR PUBERTY in any way shape or form. Fuck, I am just getting the hang of the 'kid' thing. I don't want to be another centimeter closer to puberty and Teenager Land and all the hell that accompanies it. You see, I was, very recently, a teenager and they are evil, evil beings who cause their parents all kinds of grief and I am just not ready for that particular level of hell just yet, thankyouverymuch.
What to do... What to do... Since I can't physically stop this (pending soul deal, remember?), I guess I am going to have to take another step up that parenting ladder. Learn the tricks of the trade for dealing with a slightly prepubescent adolescent (sorry, couldn't help it, it rhymed too well) and master them. I just hope I don't fuck Amanda up too bad since she really is my guinea pig in this whole thing. I learn what to do and what not to do from practicing on her. I can see her in therapy now...
"It was horrible, my mom was trying to shove my boobs back into my chest screaming "NOOOOO! You are too young!!!" Then they took her off to the asylum, she has been there ever since..."
Boobs! For fuck's sake. I just hope that they grow REALLY slowly.
~K
My oldest daughter and I were driving to gymnastics a few weeks ago when she looked over at me and said, "I can't wait until I am eleven." I thought eleven? I mean, ten I get - it's double digits, thirteen I get - it's teenaged... but eleven? So, I asked her to elaborate. And she tells me that when she is eleven, she will have boobs.
I laughed a little and told her that she would probably not have boobs until she was thirteen or fourteen (or twenty one if the deal with the devil and my soul goes through). She disagreed stating that she thinks she is already getting boobs. I told her that she would know because it hurts when you get them.
Then I started paying attention and noticed that she is right. Oh. God. No. I don't know how graphic is too graphic here... but my daughter is eight (she will be nine in November) and she shouldn't have anything even slightly resembling breasts for many years (in my humble opinion, which apparently means jack shit). However, she is... softening up - for lack of a better term. I had noticed that she is putting on a little weight and when I say little, I mean, literally, a little. Usually when this happens, I can expect a growth spurt. She is healthy and active and normal and all those great kid things. But, the changes in her chest area, not from the weight. I can see where things are changing.
I am staring at my daughter's chest. All the time. I don't mean to, but she will be talking to me and I am trying to see if anything has changed. And god damnit, nothing should be anything because. she. is. eight!
Let me say this clearly - I AM NOT READY FOR PUBERTY in any way shape or form. Fuck, I am just getting the hang of the 'kid' thing. I don't want to be another centimeter closer to puberty and Teenager Land and all the hell that accompanies it. You see, I was, very recently, a teenager and they are evil, evil beings who cause their parents all kinds of grief and I am just not ready for that particular level of hell just yet, thankyouverymuch.
What to do... What to do... Since I can't physically stop this (pending soul deal, remember?), I guess I am going to have to take another step up that parenting ladder. Learn the tricks of the trade for dealing with a slightly prepubescent adolescent (sorry, couldn't help it, it rhymed too well) and master them. I just hope I don't fuck Amanda up too bad since she really is my guinea pig in this whole thing. I learn what to do and what not to do from practicing on her. I can see her in therapy now...
"It was horrible, my mom was trying to shove my boobs back into my chest screaming "NOOOOO! You are too young!!!" Then they took her off to the asylum, she has been there ever since..."
Boobs! For fuck's sake. I just hope that they grow REALLY slowly.
~K
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
the end
Ok, the official ending to my Jason saga. To answer the emails and comments and phone calls even, lol, he is real. Jason Root is his name. He’d be about 26 or 27 now. I did meet him as a teen in Hawaii. He was my first real date, the first guy I really liked and definitely loved in some way. His mother’s name was Lorraine, his sister’s Samantha. Every single thing you read in italics was true. Everything else were figments of my imagination.
When I met Jason, when I was thirteen or so, he and I immediately had a connection. We got along spectacularly and were best friends from the get go. Our friendship developed into crushes and then our blossoming interest in each other came to a crashing halt with his disappearance.
The first few years after I moved back from Hawaii, I didn’t bother to try and find him. I had heard from an old friend that he was attending high school in Kona. I begged her to give him my number or me his, but she ‘never got around to it’. After that, all trace of him was gone.
About two years ago, I hired a company called Locaters Plus whom I paid in full and who consistently gave me information that I could have very easily gotten off of any of the web searches I had already done myself. After awhile, they stopped emailing me altogether and every time I emailed them they assured me that they were still looking. Their website says that they had suffered some setbacks [read: we took your money and had a royal time in the Bahamas] and are now back in service [read: accepting more money to fund our next vacation].
So, the long and short of it is that I haven’t ever found him. It has been over eleven years since he and I have spoken in any way. The story I told all of you is simply one of the many journeys my imagination takes me on before I go to sleep or while I am driving home. I wasn’t sure, when I started writing it, whether or not I should put it on my blog since I thought most of you would see right through it. So, I am glad that you guys seemed to enjoy it so much :) I certainly enjoyed writing it.
Thank you all for the emails and calls and comments and especially the ones wishing for me that it was true, lol. It was definitely one of the fairy tale endings I would have enjoyed having. I’m so sorry to have to admit that it was mostly fictional, lol.
When I met Jason, when I was thirteen or so, he and I immediately had a connection. We got along spectacularly and were best friends from the get go. Our friendship developed into crushes and then our blossoming interest in each other came to a crashing halt with his disappearance.
The first few years after I moved back from Hawaii, I didn’t bother to try and find him. I had heard from an old friend that he was attending high school in Kona. I begged her to give him my number or me his, but she ‘never got around to it’. After that, all trace of him was gone.
About two years ago, I hired a company called Locaters Plus whom I paid in full and who consistently gave me information that I could have very easily gotten off of any of the web searches I had already done myself. After awhile, they stopped emailing me altogether and every time I emailed them they assured me that they were still looking. Their website says that they had suffered some setbacks [read: we took your money and had a royal time in the Bahamas] and are now back in service [read: accepting more money to fund our next vacation].
So, the long and short of it is that I haven’t ever found him. It has been over eleven years since he and I have spoken in any way. The story I told all of you is simply one of the many journeys my imagination takes me on before I go to sleep or while I am driving home. I wasn’t sure, when I started writing it, whether or not I should put it on my blog since I thought most of you would see right through it. So, I am glad that you guys seemed to enjoy it so much :) I certainly enjoyed writing it.
Thank you all for the emails and calls and comments and especially the ones wishing for me that it was true, lol. It was definitely one of the fairy tale endings I would have enjoyed having. I’m so sorry to have to admit that it was mostly fictional, lol.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Ten thousand hits. I am speechless.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
my weekend highlights
- Finished Harry Potter - The Half Blood Prince. I won't be an asshole and ruin the book for you like some people. (ADDED: the story is unraveling in my comments, so if you haven't read the book PLEASE DON'T read the comments!!) Just let me say that it was awesome and written incredibly well. Also let me clarify that I am not a sheep. I started reading Harry Potter when it first came out. I didn't jump on the 'I'm Just Like Everyone Else' bandwagon when the movie came out. So, if I am a sheep, then I am like the second or third sheep from the front, not one of the ones in the back. Just for the record. Moving on.
- Watched the last installment of Into The West. Cried. Once again was reminded of why I loathe Columbus Day and how I think that the History taught to my children in school is utter rubbish. Felt guilty for being here, on Indian land. Was appalled at the brutality and idiocy.
- Some good news! I discovered an entire set of filters on my vacuum cleaner that I had no idea were there! Why is this good news? You ask.. well, because, dear reader, I was able to clean the year and a halfs worth of dirt from them and now my Dirt Devil is sucking like a... Ok, I won't elaborate on how it is sucking, just that it is. And it is awesome and I once again love my vacuum and vacuuming is a pleasurable experience that I enjoy again.
- Took Amanda and Emilee to see Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. Which of course was awesome. Spent 67% of the movie staring at Johnny Depp and wondering is that really him because it so doesn't look like him. I found that I laughed at parts of the movie other people didn't think were funny and since I laugh loudly it was ever so slightly awkward. But, fuck them, I paid over twenty bucks to watch the flick so I will damn sure laugh when I want to even if you are too dense to get the joke. Fucking kids... moving on.
- Cleaned my room. I haven't cleaned my room in M-O-N-T-H-S. The biggest reason is that Veronique's mom gave me a ton of Veronique's stuff and I just sort of shoved it in various corners of my room, not wanting to go through it. Well, I went through everything this weekend. Including my closet. And guess what I found!! My LIST. Don't act like you don't know what I am talking about. My list from highschool. The one where you wrote all down the names of the dudes that you kissed or... um, did more than kissed. Called Tempest immediately and read it to her and she laughed her ass off. Funny thing is that since she still lives down there she knows most of these guys and I don't even remember who they were, let alone what they looked like. She says I have to update it now that I found it. I am thinking I will just burn it. It is evidence after all and we can't have that laying around...
- Did not clean out my car for the fourteenth week in a row. But I did go out there and get all of the various dishes (cups mostly that I use to drink water out of when I drive to work) and clothing (from when we change on the go) out of the car and they are all washed and put away. For the longest time I was able to put all of the crap from the front of the car into the trunk. Sadly, those days are over now since my trunk is full. I won't be able to shop again until I clean it out as there is barely room for the spare now.
- Decided I need a credit card. Why? Because Lola says that she gets all of her flying miles from paying her bills with a credit card and then immediately transferring the money so as to not incur any interest charges. Since I do this anyway, only with a check card, I think it is time for a credit card so I can start saving up flying miles.
- Put thirty dollars in gas in my car. Thirty. T-H-I-R-T-Y. Say it with me ya'll. FUCK YOU GAS PEOPLE. DIE. I used to be able to put thirteen dollars in my car and the tank was FULL and I would drive all week on thirteen dollars. Now I have to sell my fucking soul to drive three blocks. I don't give a flying fuck why gas prices are so high, but I think it is horse shit and that someone could fix them if they wanted to but they just suck too fucking hard. Same thing with milk. Milk is almost four god damned dollars a gallon. There are cows in the fucking field behind my house and I am paying four. fucking. dollars. a. gallon. The gas people and the milk people must have joined forces in their quest to fuck the general public in the ass. I hate them.
- Wrote this entry at 11:20pm on Sunday night and realized that I have a pretty boring life, lol. I am actually pretty happy about it though :) I am going to bed now.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Interview with a Blogger
This lovely little pass-a-long is from Sandra.
The Interview:
1. What's the one thing you've done that you really wish you could takeback? See, now this is always a tricky question. I could respond very cliche and say I have no regrets because you learn from everything - good or bad. But the fact is that I should have left AZ as soon as I got pregnant with Emilee. That is my biggest regret because I was so emotionally unstable by the time he and I finally split that I wasn't me.
2. Why did you start blogging?
There was this girl on another site who had a blog. I didn't start right away... actually the reason I didn't was because I was trying to finish my NanoWrimo for that month, but I digress. I started because I was enjoying other blogs and figured I would give it a shot. I really love it. It gives me an outlet for all the writing I want to do.
3. What is the coolest thing that has ever happened to you?
Becoming a mom. No contest. The first time I saw my [first] daughter was the defining moment of my life. Everything I have ever felt since has been because of them. I have no doubts that the reason I am here if for them.
4. Where in the world would you most like to visit?
Ireland... followed very closely by Greece.
5. How did you choose your kids' names?
It's so funny that you asked me this since I found the list of names for Amanda when I was cleaning earlier... Anyway, with Amanda, I had to have her middle name be Kate because my middle name is my mother's mother's name and so my daughter's middle name had to be my mother's name. Amanda was the closest to a compromise that her father and I could come to on a first name. I wanted to name her Tiana.
With Emo, we were torn between Emily Angel and Elizabeth Hope. We chose the latter when she was born, but when her father went home, I changed my mind. lol When the lady came in with the birth certificate, I decided to name her Emilee Hope. Why? I couldn't tell you for sure. Now Amanda and Emilee have the same last name, so their name's have the same number of vowels and letters. Also, Amanda - 3 A's. Emilee - 3 E's. Yeah, I am weird.
With Triniti, I wanted to name her something that I liked that her father didn't because I am a petty bitch whenwe split up because you stuck your dick in multiple other women I am pregnant and overly hormonal.
I wanted to name her Lylou. Why? Because it had no definition. He wanted a name that meant 'strong' or 'solid'. He wanted something and I quote here "that looks good on her office door". OMFG. Needless to say, when I proposed Violet Sky, he almost shit a brick. Anyway, I decided to name her Trinity because the non-biblical definition is 'third in a set of three', which she is. She is my third daughter in a set of three daughters and his third child. I changed the 'y' on the end to an 'i' because, well, it fit in with my three vowel thing I had going. Triniti - 3 I's.
Triniti's middle name is Eden... No huge reason on this, I just really liked it. And it is four letters like Kate and Hope. And I like order damnit, lol.
Emilee likes to say that Trin's middle name is Eden because she is 'eatin' all the time, lol.
And that is also how I have my screen name :)
The Rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying 'interview me please'
2. I will respond by asking you five questions on your blog (not the same questions you see here)
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions
The Interview:
1. What's the one thing you've done that you really wish you could takeback? See, now this is always a tricky question. I could respond very cliche and say I have no regrets because you learn from everything - good or bad. But the fact is that I should have left AZ as soon as I got pregnant with Emilee. That is my biggest regret because I was so emotionally unstable by the time he and I finally split that I wasn't me.
2. Why did you start blogging?
There was this girl on another site who had a blog. I didn't start right away... actually the reason I didn't was because I was trying to finish my NanoWrimo for that month, but I digress. I started because I was enjoying other blogs and figured I would give it a shot. I really love it. It gives me an outlet for all the writing I want to do.
3. What is the coolest thing that has ever happened to you?
Becoming a mom. No contest. The first time I saw my [first] daughter was the defining moment of my life. Everything I have ever felt since has been because of them. I have no doubts that the reason I am here if for them.
4. Where in the world would you most like to visit?
Ireland... followed very closely by Greece.
5. How did you choose your kids' names?
It's so funny that you asked me this since I found the list of names for Amanda when I was cleaning earlier... Anyway, with Amanda, I had to have her middle name be Kate because my middle name is my mother's mother's name and so my daughter's middle name had to be my mother's name. Amanda was the closest to a compromise that her father and I could come to on a first name. I wanted to name her Tiana.
With Emo, we were torn between Emily Angel and Elizabeth Hope. We chose the latter when she was born, but when her father went home, I changed my mind. lol When the lady came in with the birth certificate, I decided to name her Emilee Hope. Why? I couldn't tell you for sure. Now Amanda and Emilee have the same last name, so their name's have the same number of vowels and letters. Also, Amanda - 3 A's. Emilee - 3 E's. Yeah, I am weird.
With Triniti, I wanted to name her something that I liked that her father didn't because I am a petty bitch when
I wanted to name her Lylou. Why? Because it had no definition. He wanted a name that meant 'strong' or 'solid'. He wanted something and I quote here "that looks good on her office door". OMFG. Needless to say, when I proposed Violet Sky, he almost shit a brick. Anyway, I decided to name her Trinity because the non-biblical definition is 'third in a set of three', which she is. She is my third daughter in a set of three daughters and his third child. I changed the 'y' on the end to an 'i' because, well, it fit in with my three vowel thing I had going. Triniti - 3 I's.
Triniti's middle name is Eden... No huge reason on this, I just really liked it. And it is four letters like Kate and Hope. And I like order damnit, lol.
Emilee likes to say that Trin's middle name is Eden because she is 'eatin' all the time, lol.
And that is also how I have my screen name :)
The Rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying 'interview me please'
2. I will respond by asking you five questions on your blog (not the same questions you see here)
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions
the conclusion
Checking up on me? lol, First I want to just say thank you all for your emails and your concern and your well wishes... but most importantly, thank you for your patience as I know that many of you were pissed off at me for taking so long to finish writing this. (Again, if you are just joining us, this is in follow up to these previous entries: one, two, three, four, five) Now, without further ado...
When I was thirteen, my mother bought a guitar. The extent of my musical talents was learning to play "In The Jungle" on my trusty recorder. I have never, in my life, had any musical inclinations so I really didn't care. My mother was excited about this guitar, I remember her telling us about it and saying that the woman she would be buying it from would stop by that night to drop it off. I also remember her saying that this woman needed the money because she was very pregnant and broke. That evening, my mother made a ton of food for dinner, clearly planning to feed more than just us. She straightened up the house and sent us all off to do our homework for school. This was totally laughable since the school system in Na'alehu was a joke and homework was practically nonexistent. But the three of us went downstairs anyway and goofed off while mom worked upstairs because she told us to. An hour or so later, our dog started barking and we knew that she was there.
I have to admit that yesterday I was dying for it to be eight o'clock as soon as humanly possible. I felt like I was sitting on the winning lotto numbers and damnit I wanted to tell somebody! As the entire week had been busy, Friday was no exception. I probably checked my clock a hundred times but to it's credit, the day went by fairly quickly. I left work at five and headed to my daycare to pick up my girls. Home, dinner, baths, pajamas, teeth, movie.
After I got the girls settled into their room watching Mulan, I jumped in the shower. It was near seven and I had to be out the door by seven thirty to be there even close to eight. I had decided not to call him, I wanted to have this discussion in person so I could see his face when I told him I knew who he was. The nervousness I had been experiencing around him had changed from that stomach-twisting-uncomfortable-in-my-own-skin to straight-out-excited-butterflies. Amazing how simply knowing someone's identity can make your whole outlook change.
Noah and I went to the door to look out and see who was coming. There was a woman, dressed in white and clearly pregnant walking up the hill to our house, a guitar case in her left hand. She was followed by a very small child, a little blonde girl who's name was Samantha. She was only maybe four years old and she was clutching her older brother's hand. Her older brother was someone I had seen around school but didn't really know. He was probably fourteen at the time, a year older than I was.
They walked up the stairs to our porch and we moved to let them in. My mother came down the stairs to say hello and take the woman, Lorraine, upstairs with her. She told us all to go play while the two of them talked. Ruthie and Samantha were immediately friends and ran off to play together in Ruthie's room leaving Noah and I standing there with this young guy leaning against the wall looking most uncomfortable.
Noah was playing with something, a model car I think and this guy walked over and asked Noah a question about it and then we were off. The three of us sat downstairs having conversations about toys and TV and school and friends. We played Mercy, a game which I lost so many times in a row that my hands were killing me. A few hours later, Noah went upstairs to look for something else to show this older kid. Funny how young boys so often love the attention they get from older boys. I think a lot of his adoration was rooted in our father being absent so often and living in a house full of females.
Anyway, this left the two of us alone. We talked for a few minutes about school and how we had seen each other around and neither of us mentioned that we clearly ran in different crowds. In fact, looking back, I can almost assure you that he didn't run in any crowd. He was always alone when I saw him in school. He asked me what my name was and I told him and then laughed and asked him the same thing. Jason...
When Jason and his family left that night my mother called us all into the kitchen to sit down and talk. It seemed that his mother was in a bit of a bind. She was due to have her child in a matter of weeks and she needed help. Mom had offered to let her move in with us until her child was born. This meant Lorraine was going to move into my room, Ruthie and Sam were going to stay in Ruthie and Noah's room. Noah, Jason and I would get air mattresses and start sleeping in the living room on the floor.
Over the next month, the three of us became great friends. Jason and I had our love for books in common and would often be found sitting in the living room, buried deep into whatever story we were reading at the time. One afternoon, he took the book I was reading from me and replaced it with the one he had just finished. I remember griping about it and demanding my book back, but he just smiled at me and told me I had to read this one first. I looked at the cover King Arthur and The Knights Of The Round Table.
next...
When I was thirteen, my mother bought a guitar. The extent of my musical talents was learning to play "In The Jungle" on my trusty recorder. I have never, in my life, had any musical inclinations so I really didn't care. My mother was excited about this guitar, I remember her telling us about it and saying that the woman she would be buying it from would stop by that night to drop it off. I also remember her saying that this woman needed the money because she was very pregnant and broke. That evening, my mother made a ton of food for dinner, clearly planning to feed more than just us. She straightened up the house and sent us all off to do our homework for school. This was totally laughable since the school system in Na'alehu was a joke and homework was practically nonexistent. But the three of us went downstairs anyway and goofed off while mom worked upstairs because she told us to. An hour or so later, our dog started barking and we knew that she was there.
I have to admit that yesterday I was dying for it to be eight o'clock as soon as humanly possible. I felt like I was sitting on the winning lotto numbers and damnit I wanted to tell somebody! As the entire week had been busy, Friday was no exception. I probably checked my clock a hundred times but to it's credit, the day went by fairly quickly. I left work at five and headed to my daycare to pick up my girls. Home, dinner, baths, pajamas, teeth, movie.
After I got the girls settled into their room watching Mulan, I jumped in the shower. It was near seven and I had to be out the door by seven thirty to be there even close to eight. I had decided not to call him, I wanted to have this discussion in person so I could see his face when I told him I knew who he was. The nervousness I had been experiencing around him had changed from that stomach-twisting-uncomfortable-in-my-own-skin to straight-out-excited-butterflies. Amazing how simply knowing someone's identity can make your whole outlook change.
Noah and I went to the door to look out and see who was coming. There was a woman, dressed in white and clearly pregnant walking up the hill to our house, a guitar case in her left hand. She was followed by a very small child, a little blonde girl who's name was Samantha. She was only maybe four years old and she was clutching her older brother's hand. Her older brother was someone I had seen around school but didn't really know. He was probably fourteen at the time, a year older than I was.
They walked up the stairs to our porch and we moved to let them in. My mother came down the stairs to say hello and take the woman, Lorraine, upstairs with her. She told us all to go play while the two of them talked. Ruthie and Samantha were immediately friends and ran off to play together in Ruthie's room leaving Noah and I standing there with this young guy leaning against the wall looking most uncomfortable.
Noah was playing with something, a model car I think and this guy walked over and asked Noah a question about it and then we were off. The three of us sat downstairs having conversations about toys and TV and school and friends. We played Mercy, a game which I lost so many times in a row that my hands were killing me. A few hours later, Noah went upstairs to look for something else to show this older kid. Funny how young boys so often love the attention they get from older boys. I think a lot of his adoration was rooted in our father being absent so often and living in a house full of females.
Anyway, this left the two of us alone. We talked for a few minutes about school and how we had seen each other around and neither of us mentioned that we clearly ran in different crowds. In fact, looking back, I can almost assure you that he didn't run in any crowd. He was always alone when I saw him in school. He asked me what my name was and I told him and then laughed and asked him the same thing. Jason...
When Jason and his family left that night my mother called us all into the kitchen to sit down and talk. It seemed that his mother was in a bit of a bind. She was due to have her child in a matter of weeks and she needed help. Mom had offered to let her move in with us until her child was born. This meant Lorraine was going to move into my room, Ruthie and Sam were going to stay in Ruthie and Noah's room. Noah, Jason and I would get air mattresses and start sleeping in the living room on the floor.
Over the next month, the three of us became great friends. Jason and I had our love for books in common and would often be found sitting in the living room, buried deep into whatever story we were reading at the time. One afternoon, he took the book I was reading from me and replaced it with the one he had just finished. I remember griping about it and demanding my book back, but he just smiled at me and told me I had to read this one first. I looked at the cover King Arthur and The Knights Of The Round Table.
next...
the conclusion continued
My mother came over to babysit the girls for me. I didn't tell her where I was going or who with because I knew she would absolutely freak out. She had mentioned many times over the last ten years that she wondered what happened to Lorraine, Jason, and Sam. I had went so far as to pay a company a hundred bucks a few years ago to find him for me, but they never could. It was as though they had all fallen off of the planet after we moved back to the mainland. She made me promise to call if I was going to be overly late so she wouldn't worry. She would worry anyway, she always does when I go out.
I threw my stuff and myself into my car and hit the road. I glanced at my cell phone and saw that it was seven forty, I was going to be ten minutes late. I was going to be ten minutes late to my second first date with the same man...
Jason and his family moved out after the baby was born. The moved to a neighboring town that was still in our school district, so the only times I saw him were in school. Lorraine didn't come over after that and we only went to visit her a few times. I don't know what happened between she and my mom, if anything. I just know that if I wanted to see Jason, I had to see him in school. This was difficult because he was a year ahead of me.
Then something insane happened. The state took all of Lorraine's children away from her and they placed Jason with my friend's grandparents - in foster care. This ended up being great for he and I because we were able to talk on the phone almost constantly and we did.
One Saturday, he called me and asked me out on a date. I won't lie and say I hadn't thought about it, but I was thirteen and I had never even told a boy I liked him so I was very shy. He asked me to go to the movies with him that night and I, of course, said yes. A conversation about the fact that he and I had secretly liked each other for a while ensued. I asked my mom and he asked his then foster parents and it was all set. My mom would drop me off and then he and I would ride home with his foster parents. We went to see Under Siege and I was so nervous, I don't think I could have even told you what the movie was about afterwards because I spent the entire time being so self conscious. Then, it happened. About half way through the movie, he put his arm around me. I didn't move at all for the rest of the show.
After the movie was over, he and I walked across the street and sat down on a bench and talked, like we usually talked. We talked about how he was adjusting and how he missed his sister and mom. He confided in me that he really liked his foster parents though and he wasn't too upset to finally have a place to stay. His foster parents arrived a few minutes later and took us home. He walked me to the door but didn't kiss me. I don't know if I thought he would or not, but in retrospect it makes sense on account of there being people watching us.
Then he was gone. His mother got him back and it moved him to Hilo (about an hour and a half away). It would be six months before I would hear from him again. And then it was a short call saying he wanted to come and stay with us. My mother said of course and he said he would be there the next day. He never showed up. We had no idea why and no way to reach him. I got a call right before we left Hawaii from him. He was in California, the state had taken him away again and moved him to the mainland. I never spoke to him again. I heard that he moved back to Hawaii, to Kona, and finished school there. But he had disappeared.
I parked my car and checked my makeup, grabbed my purse and locked my doors. I had no idea what he drove, so no clue as to whether he was there or not. I walked up to the sidewalk and he came out the front door. He didn't look like the hot mystery guy to me anymore, he looked like an old friend, an old love and someone I had missed for more than ten years. His jeans and white shirt barely registered in my mind, it was again his eyes I was drawn to. His eyes were everything they had been before, green and bright and full of laughter, only now I could see in them our friendship, I could see in them the months of talking and joking and sharing. His looks were no longer intimidating, I wasn't falling over myself because he was gorgeous, instead he became the grownup version of the Jason I had known as a child. All of the wondering I had done about how he had changed was suddenly answered.
I didn't realize that I had stopped walking towards him. I was just standing there staring and then I noticed, much to my surprise, crying. He walked over to me and put his arms around me. Neither of said anything, we didn't have to. We stood there together for what felt like forever but really could have only been a matter of minutes before I pulled myself together. He stepped back and brushed some of the hair from my face.
"I was wondering when you would figure it out."
I just hugged him again. It was him, he was here, this is real. He found me. I wanted to know everything. Where he had been, what had happened in his life, how he found me. How long he had been in San Antonio... I had a million questions to ask him. I stepped back and he took my hand and led me into the restaurant.
I threw my stuff and myself into my car and hit the road. I glanced at my cell phone and saw that it was seven forty, I was going to be ten minutes late. I was going to be ten minutes late to my second first date with the same man...
Jason and his family moved out after the baby was born. The moved to a neighboring town that was still in our school district, so the only times I saw him were in school. Lorraine didn't come over after that and we only went to visit her a few times. I don't know what happened between she and my mom, if anything. I just know that if I wanted to see Jason, I had to see him in school. This was difficult because he was a year ahead of me.
Then something insane happened. The state took all of Lorraine's children away from her and they placed Jason with my friend's grandparents - in foster care. This ended up being great for he and I because we were able to talk on the phone almost constantly and we did.
One Saturday, he called me and asked me out on a date. I won't lie and say I hadn't thought about it, but I was thirteen and I had never even told a boy I liked him so I was very shy. He asked me to go to the movies with him that night and I, of course, said yes. A conversation about the fact that he and I had secretly liked each other for a while ensued. I asked my mom and he asked his then foster parents and it was all set. My mom would drop me off and then he and I would ride home with his foster parents. We went to see Under Siege and I was so nervous, I don't think I could have even told you what the movie was about afterwards because I spent the entire time being so self conscious. Then, it happened. About half way through the movie, he put his arm around me. I didn't move at all for the rest of the show.
After the movie was over, he and I walked across the street and sat down on a bench and talked, like we usually talked. We talked about how he was adjusting and how he missed his sister and mom. He confided in me that he really liked his foster parents though and he wasn't too upset to finally have a place to stay. His foster parents arrived a few minutes later and took us home. He walked me to the door but didn't kiss me. I don't know if I thought he would or not, but in retrospect it makes sense on account of there being people watching us.
Then he was gone. His mother got him back and it moved him to Hilo (about an hour and a half away). It would be six months before I would hear from him again. And then it was a short call saying he wanted to come and stay with us. My mother said of course and he said he would be there the next day. He never showed up. We had no idea why and no way to reach him. I got a call right before we left Hawaii from him. He was in California, the state had taken him away again and moved him to the mainland. I never spoke to him again. I heard that he moved back to Hawaii, to Kona, and finished school there. But he had disappeared.
I parked my car and checked my makeup, grabbed my purse and locked my doors. I had no idea what he drove, so no clue as to whether he was there or not. I walked up to the sidewalk and he came out the front door. He didn't look like the hot mystery guy to me anymore, he looked like an old friend, an old love and someone I had missed for more than ten years. His jeans and white shirt barely registered in my mind, it was again his eyes I was drawn to. His eyes were everything they had been before, green and bright and full of laughter, only now I could see in them our friendship, I could see in them the months of talking and joking and sharing. His looks were no longer intimidating, I wasn't falling over myself because he was gorgeous, instead he became the grownup version of the Jason I had known as a child. All of the wondering I had done about how he had changed was suddenly answered.
I didn't realize that I had stopped walking towards him. I was just standing there staring and then I noticed, much to my surprise, crying. He walked over to me and put his arms around me. Neither of said anything, we didn't have to. We stood there together for what felt like forever but really could have only been a matter of minutes before I pulled myself together. He stepped back and brushed some of the hair from my face.
"I was wondering when you would figure it out."
I just hugged him again. It was him, he was here, this is real. He found me. I wanted to know everything. Where he had been, what had happened in his life, how he found me. How long he had been in San Antonio... I had a million questions to ask him. I stepped back and he took my hand and led me into the restaurant.
Friday, July 22, 2005
My darling, darling daughter, Emilee...
Last night, Emilee comes out of the bathroom and runs over to me. I was laying on her bed reading (oddly, her bed is my favorite place to read) when she ran up.
"Momma! You have to make her stop!"
Thinking that this was probably another silly fight between her and her sister, I set my book off to the side and asked her what was wrong.
"She is killing the spiders! Tell her to stop. Please mommy?!"
Ok, so I laughed at her, but only a little. And it was only then that I realized how upset she was. Apparently, she had said everything while holding back tears.
"You want me to make her stop killing the spiders?" I said as I laughed.
She became very upset and pushed me and said, "It's not funny Mommy." And then burst into tears. Tears! Realizing that this was one of her Emilee Moments, I sat straight up and reached for her. She pulled away, still crying.
In my stern yet sympathetic voice, I said, "Emilee, first of all, do not push me. Even when you are angry, you use your words, not your hands. Secondly, come here so I can talk to you, baby."
She only needed that small nudge, she was in my arms in seconds. Crying.
I smoothed her hair and apologized for not taking what she was saying more seriously. How often I forget that everything they are saying is not typical kid stuff. And more importantly that what they are saying is of the utmost importance to them and deserves my full attention and seriousness.
When she had calmed down, I asked her what was the matter and she explained it to me.
"Mommy, we have to stop killing the spiders!" She said again and this time as tears are literally spilling from her eyes.
"Ok, ok, sweety. Why do we have to keep killing the spiders?"
This was all so sad and so sweet to watch because she had to keep calming herself down in order to get it all out without bursting into tears again.
"Because we are killing their families, Momma! When we kill the spider, we are killing some other spiders families! Yai-Yai [this is what they call my mom] says they will bite us, that's why we kill them, but they are only biting us because we are killing their families!"
Holy crap. I think my daughter was a monk in a previous life, like a Tibetian monk.
After reassuring her that we would not kill any more bugs, I went and talked to my mother and Amanda and told them to please, please not kill any more insects in front of Emilee.
Amanda kind of laughed at her and I told her to get lost and then I just had to dote a little on Emilee. I told her that she is so special because her heart seems to be so much bigger than normal people's hearts. She smiled at me. I am truly lucky to have her for a daughter.
~K
Thursday, July 21, 2005
revelation
(Again, if you are just joining us, this is in follow up to these previous entries: one, two, three, four.)
You know that little light bulb that pops up over a cartoon character's head when he has a brilliant idea? I can almost swear that I had one of those this morning while I was in the shower. If I hadn't been afraid of getting soap in my eyes, I would have opened them and looked. But alas, there was shampoo and I was scared. So instead, I washed my hair as quickly as I could and tried to get everything done that I had to get done in super fast forward so that I could buy myself even twenty minutes of free time before my actual day started.
Why? Why did I need twenty minutes? Because, dear reader, 'The Knights Of the Round Table' suddenly made an insane amount of sense. It was all I had thought about last night. I just kept massaging that part of my mind trying to wake it up in hopes that I would remember why that meant anything to me. I laid in my bed last night, in the dark, straining and grasping at my far away memories, the ones I knew held the reasoning behind that particular chord being struck. But nothing came to me, just that burning emptiness, that nagging itch of not remembering.
I don't know when I fell asleep as I must have thought myself straight into slumber, but when I did sleep my dreams were a bizarre compilation of horses and swords and this gorgeous mystery man. And then Jason was wearing this suit, this spandex suit with a giant question mark on the front. I was staring at the question mark and when I looked back up, he was The Riddler and I screamed. King Arthur himself road up on a white stallion and killed him with one plunge of his sword. When I looked back at King Arthur, he was once again Jason and he held out his hand to help me get on his horse and then off we rode.
I woke up then, in a strange state of mind. Fuzzy and groggy as I was, I went to get in the shower as I do every morning and then, it hit me. The entire reference, the coded clue that he had mentioned so nonchalantly at the end of our conversation at lunch. I knew what it meant. I knew, without a doubt who he was and I wanted to call him and talk to him and tell him so many things. But, as the morning turned to afternoon and the afternoon turned to evening, I found myself without the time to steal away a phone call and I certainly didn't want to only have a few moments to talk with him. I wanted to ensure an hour, maybe two so that I could say all the things I wanted to say and hear all the answers to the questions I needed to ask. I couldn't risk being three minutes in and having to suddenly go.
All hopes for such a phone call were shot to hell at about 5:15 however. After a lengthy meeting, I returned to my desk and turned the ringer on my cell phone back on and noticed my voicemail light flashing. Odd, since my phone hadn't vibrated and I didn't have any missed calls, but to be honest it hasn't ever worked the same since I dropped it in the bath tub a few months ago.
The voicemail, verbatim:
Kate, hi, this is Jason. I had a really great time with you at lunch yesterday and I am looking forward to our dinner. I would love to meet you tomorrow, say eight? I was thinking that the Italian place on [street] would be nice since you like Italian... if I remember correctly. Anyway, if this is ok, I will meet you there at eight. If not, give me a call and leave me a voicemail. I won't be able to take any calls until mid-afternoon on Friday. I wish I could have caught you, but I will just have to wait I guess. I do hope you are able to make it. Have a good evening.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
So, I guess my huge revelation, my discovery of his identity will just have to wait until tomorrow? That so blows. I am like a kid on Christmas Eve. There sit the presents and I have to wait until tomorrow to open them.
So totally not fair.
part six
You know that little light bulb that pops up over a cartoon character's head when he has a brilliant idea? I can almost swear that I had one of those this morning while I was in the shower. If I hadn't been afraid of getting soap in my eyes, I would have opened them and looked. But alas, there was shampoo and I was scared. So instead, I washed my hair as quickly as I could and tried to get everything done that I had to get done in super fast forward so that I could buy myself even twenty minutes of free time before my actual day started.
Why? Why did I need twenty minutes? Because, dear reader, 'The Knights Of the Round Table' suddenly made an insane amount of sense. It was all I had thought about last night. I just kept massaging that part of my mind trying to wake it up in hopes that I would remember why that meant anything to me. I laid in my bed last night, in the dark, straining and grasping at my far away memories, the ones I knew held the reasoning behind that particular chord being struck. But nothing came to me, just that burning emptiness, that nagging itch of not remembering.
I don't know when I fell asleep as I must have thought myself straight into slumber, but when I did sleep my dreams were a bizarre compilation of horses and swords and this gorgeous mystery man. And then Jason was wearing this suit, this spandex suit with a giant question mark on the front. I was staring at the question mark and when I looked back up, he was The Riddler and I screamed. King Arthur himself road up on a white stallion and killed him with one plunge of his sword. When I looked back at King Arthur, he was once again Jason and he held out his hand to help me get on his horse and then off we rode.
I woke up then, in a strange state of mind. Fuzzy and groggy as I was, I went to get in the shower as I do every morning and then, it hit me. The entire reference, the coded clue that he had mentioned so nonchalantly at the end of our conversation at lunch. I knew what it meant. I knew, without a doubt who he was and I wanted to call him and talk to him and tell him so many things. But, as the morning turned to afternoon and the afternoon turned to evening, I found myself without the time to steal away a phone call and I certainly didn't want to only have a few moments to talk with him. I wanted to ensure an hour, maybe two so that I could say all the things I wanted to say and hear all the answers to the questions I needed to ask. I couldn't risk being three minutes in and having to suddenly go.
All hopes for such a phone call were shot to hell at about 5:15 however. After a lengthy meeting, I returned to my desk and turned the ringer on my cell phone back on and noticed my voicemail light flashing. Odd, since my phone hadn't vibrated and I didn't have any missed calls, but to be honest it hasn't ever worked the same since I dropped it in the bath tub a few months ago.
The voicemail, verbatim:
Kate, hi, this is Jason. I had a really great time with you at lunch yesterday and I am looking forward to our dinner. I would love to meet you tomorrow, say eight? I was thinking that the Italian place on [street] would be nice since you like Italian... if I remember correctly. Anyway, if this is ok, I will meet you there at eight. If not, give me a call and leave me a voicemail. I won't be able to take any calls until mid-afternoon on Friday. I wish I could have caught you, but I will just have to wait I guess. I do hope you are able to make it. Have a good evening.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
So, I guess my huge revelation, my discovery of his identity will just have to wait until tomorrow? That so blows. I am like a kid on Christmas Eve. There sit the presents and I have to wait until tomorrow to open them.
So totally not fair.
part six
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
lunch
(added: It was brought to my attention by someone who read the end before the beginning to p-l-e-a-s-e list the previous parts of this particular post. *In my best radio voice* If you are just joining us, please read this first, this second and this third and then come back.)
Don't you just hate it when you wake up from that dream. You know the one. The one that makes you look around expecting everything that your subconscious just imagined to be real? And then when you realize that it wasn't, that it is just a dream, you try to go back to sleep. But at a glance, you see that you are going to have to get up in three minutes anyway, so you may as well get up now. But you don't want to because your dream world was just so real and so perfect a few minutes ago.
That, dear reader, is how I woke up this morning. I was having one of those too perfect and too real dreams and I wanted so much to go back, to finish it, to feel it for a few more minutes, but instead my clock said it was 5:57 and so being the rational chic that I am, I got up.
And then it hit me, like a fucking brick wall.
I don't know what the hell I am going to wear. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Bite me ok? At the end of the day, despite any misconceptions you all may have about me, I am still a chic and I still give a shit about what I am going to wear when I am meeting some mystery dude for lunch. An hour was clearly not going to be enough time to perform the miracle I was needing to make something magically appear in my closet. (That and I was lacking the eye of toad or skin of newt or whatever the fuck the spell book called for.) So, I went with my black and green skirt and my green blouse. Everyone has been telling me for months I look kick ass in green and so green it is. Jiffinner should be counting her lucky stars that I didn't call her ass at six in the AM to consult and cry.
So, showered, dressed, hair down and done, shoes, a tiny bit of makeup and kids and I am out the door. Off to daycare, off to work. Nervous, nervous... I hate being nervous, but at the same time you have to love that anticipation, those butterflies. All of it reminds you that while you doubted it, you do still feel. And I was feeling... a little nauseous... but oh well.
So work. O.M.G. What the fuck is it with work? To say that we have been slammed would be the understatement of the fucking year. The insane pile up of hellish paperwork on my desk would be the reason that it is taking me such an extraordinary amount of time to relate this all to you. But, I digress. Work is plentiful and busy and so much so that before I even realized it Jiffinner was standing in my doorway looking at me as though I were an idiot.
What?
Uh, hello? Do you want to be late?
Late? Late for-- ohmigod.
A glance at the clock and it is 12:47.
Yeah. Move your ass.
Grabbing my purse and my keys and my sunglasses and I am out the door. I turned around and looked at Jiffinner who just smiled at me and told me I looked fine and forget asking and get the fuck out already.
How do you prepare for this? I mean, blind dates I have been on and prepared for as I have with regular dates. Most of the time you just cross you fingers and hope that the date won't be an hour full of forced conversations with you trying to text message for help under the table while trying to act interested in his ambition to build his home in a semi truck trailer (true story but for another post). But how exactly does one prepare for some guy who says he knows her but and whom she is positive she has never met? Sadly, I didn't have much time to contemplate this as I only work about three minutes from the restaurant in which we were meeting. I parked and checked the mirror and then in I went.
The restaurant is fairly new and Mexican. When you walk in, there isn't a place to wait to meet your other party. There is a hostess stand and then a bar to the left. While the bar looked tempting, I doubted that stocking up on margaritas was a very good idea. I wasn't in the door ten seconds when I started to feel uncomfortable and started to doubt that being there was a good idea at all. Funny how you know you are waiting to meet someone and you know that it is obvious to every one around you but you still feel like a moron standing there twiddling your thumbs.
I could leave... I could leave and go back to work and say he never showed. But he could of course show up at my job since he somehow knows I work there. He could call me since he now has my number. He could be sitting in my fucking driveway when I get home for all I know. But do I really care who this guy is? Yes, Kate. Fuck. I looked at the clock - 1:02. I was giving him exactly three more minutes and then I was leaving because my nerves can't take it. 1:03 - I mean, I have been nervous before when meeting someone for lunch or dinner but not like this. Not like a fucking heart attack and omg I am freaking out. 1:04 ok, fuck it. I am not waiting.
I turned around and opened the door and there he was. And he smiled. And I stared. Shut up ok? You so would have stared too. Not in jeans today and while I love a guy in jeans, today he was in what I consider to be work attire. Black slacks, black shoes and a baby blue button up shirt. That curly and a little messy hair was tamed and combed and only a couple of pieces were out of place. But, it's his eyes, ok? His eyes are like something... something I haven't ever seen before. They are dark and bright at the same time. Yup, still staring.
Leaving already? I realize I am late, but just a few minutes...
Uh... yeah. Um. I wasn't leaving... just....
Yup folks, a big round of applause for Kate. She has some how managed to not say anything at all. If we add some drooling, then she can be rendered completely incompetent.
Good, so lunch then?
Uhm.. Yeah, of course.
Then he did that walk behind me thing which made it to where his evil powers weren't aimed directly at me so I could actually think and silently curse myself. I make faces when I do this so I am sure that the few people still in the restaurant thought I had a tick or something. Then, you know what he did? He pulled my chair out for me. No big deal right? Except, I can't remember the last time anyone did that.
He sat across from me and not next to me which was good but bad too. Good because he wasn't RIGHT THERE, but bad because then he was looking right at me the whole time. This is why you don't eat with people who make you nervous. They can watch you the entire time. You always find youself doing idiotic things when this happens, like missing your straw or knocking food off of your plate.
The waiter came over and asked us what we wanted to drink. I think I got iced tea. I don't know what he got because I was still trying to calm my fucking brain down. Is there a lamaze for that? Like a breathing exercise for freaking the fuck out. Oh yeah, hyperventilating. But I think the brown paper bag and head between my knees thing might have freaked him out. So I just mentally told myself to calm to hell down and concentrate on being cool, calm, cool.
So, I picked up my menu and stared at it. I have no idea what it said. Because my brain wasn't thinking about food. I had every intention of ordering whatever the hell the waiter said was on special.
So, Jason... Do you work around here?
He set his menu down and looked at me as though he knew where this was going and was surprised that I was entering so early.
Not far, in San Antonio.
Oh yeah? Where abouts?
Northwest side. I work for a law firm near the Medical Center.
So, your a lawyer then?
Not really. Actually I -
Are you two ready to order?
Fucking waiter. He ordered something and I ordered something and then the waiter left and somehow, His Smoothness managed to turn the conversation around to me. Asking me about my job, my kids, my family. And those of you who know me know that I can talk your damn ear off. I got caught up in the questions, in his points of view, in the conversation and before I knew it the food was gone and it was just he and I there.
And then he said it, something that is causing me to clean out the closets and storage spaces in my brain and find out why it rings such a soft bell in the back of my mind. He said, "like the knights of the round table." No big deal right? But it is. It's something, it's like when you can't remember the name of that one guy or that one movie or the next line in that one song. That's the kind of nagging, pulling effect that one sentence had on me.
But then, I looked at the clock and it was 2:30.
Shit, I have to go. It's 2:30. I stood up and grabbed my purse.
Is it really? That was fast. I should probably get going too. But, I enjoyed talking to you.
Yeah.. me too and thanks for lunch. We started walking towards the door. Except, I still have no idea who you are.
Ahhh, but have I convinced you that I am sane enough to have dinner with?
He had and I laughed.
I guess so.
Ok, so I will call you.
And that was it. The Knights Of The Round Table. Where is that from? Is it even anything or am I losing my god damned mind? I have nothing. No idea who he is or how he found me or anything. Except he is cute and he has a great smile and a great laugh. And I have officially managed to put several complete sentences together in his presence. That's progress baby.
part five
Don't you just hate it when you wake up from that dream. You know the one. The one that makes you look around expecting everything that your subconscious just imagined to be real? And then when you realize that it wasn't, that it is just a dream, you try to go back to sleep. But at a glance, you see that you are going to have to get up in three minutes anyway, so you may as well get up now. But you don't want to because your dream world was just so real and so perfect a few minutes ago.
That, dear reader, is how I woke up this morning. I was having one of those too perfect and too real dreams and I wanted so much to go back, to finish it, to feel it for a few more minutes, but instead my clock said it was 5:57 and so being the rational chic that I am, I got up.
And then it hit me, like a fucking brick wall.
I don't know what the hell I am going to wear. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Bite me ok? At the end of the day, despite any misconceptions you all may have about me, I am still a chic and I still give a shit about what I am going to wear when I am meeting some mystery dude for lunch. An hour was clearly not going to be enough time to perform the miracle I was needing to make something magically appear in my closet. (That and I was lacking the eye of toad or skin of newt or whatever the fuck the spell book called for.) So, I went with my black and green skirt and my green blouse. Everyone has been telling me for months I look kick ass in green and so green it is. Jiffinner should be counting her lucky stars that I didn't call her ass at six in the AM to consult and cry.
So, showered, dressed, hair down and done, shoes, a tiny bit of makeup and kids and I am out the door. Off to daycare, off to work. Nervous, nervous... I hate being nervous, but at the same time you have to love that anticipation, those butterflies. All of it reminds you that while you doubted it, you do still feel. And I was feeling... a little nauseous... but oh well.
So work. O.M.G. What the fuck is it with work? To say that we have been slammed would be the understatement of the fucking year. The insane pile up of hellish paperwork on my desk would be the reason that it is taking me such an extraordinary amount of time to relate this all to you. But, I digress. Work is plentiful and busy and so much so that before I even realized it Jiffinner was standing in my doorway looking at me as though I were an idiot.
What?
Uh, hello? Do you want to be late?
Late? Late for-- ohmigod.
A glance at the clock and it is 12:47.
Yeah. Move your ass.
Grabbing my purse and my keys and my sunglasses and I am out the door. I turned around and looked at Jiffinner who just smiled at me and told me I looked fine and forget asking and get the fuck out already.
How do you prepare for this? I mean, blind dates I have been on and prepared for as I have with regular dates. Most of the time you just cross you fingers and hope that the date won't be an hour full of forced conversations with you trying to text message for help under the table while trying to act interested in his ambition to build his home in a semi truck trailer (true story but for another post). But how exactly does one prepare for some guy who says he knows her but and whom she is positive she has never met? Sadly, I didn't have much time to contemplate this as I only work about three minutes from the restaurant in which we were meeting. I parked and checked the mirror and then in I went.
The restaurant is fairly new and Mexican. When you walk in, there isn't a place to wait to meet your other party. There is a hostess stand and then a bar to the left. While the bar looked tempting, I doubted that stocking up on margaritas was a very good idea. I wasn't in the door ten seconds when I started to feel uncomfortable and started to doubt that being there was a good idea at all. Funny how you know you are waiting to meet someone and you know that it is obvious to every one around you but you still feel like a moron standing there twiddling your thumbs.
I could leave... I could leave and go back to work and say he never showed. But he could of course show up at my job since he somehow knows I work there. He could call me since he now has my number. He could be sitting in my fucking driveway when I get home for all I know. But do I really care who this guy is? Yes, Kate. Fuck. I looked at the clock - 1:02. I was giving him exactly three more minutes and then I was leaving because my nerves can't take it. 1:03 - I mean, I have been nervous before when meeting someone for lunch or dinner but not like this. Not like a fucking heart attack and omg I am freaking out. 1:04 ok, fuck it. I am not waiting.
I turned around and opened the door and there he was. And he smiled. And I stared. Shut up ok? You so would have stared too. Not in jeans today and while I love a guy in jeans, today he was in what I consider to be work attire. Black slacks, black shoes and a baby blue button up shirt. That curly and a little messy hair was tamed and combed and only a couple of pieces were out of place. But, it's his eyes, ok? His eyes are like something... something I haven't ever seen before. They are dark and bright at the same time. Yup, still staring.
Leaving already? I realize I am late, but just a few minutes...
Uh... yeah. Um. I wasn't leaving... just....
Yup folks, a big round of applause for Kate. She has some how managed to not say anything at all. If we add some drooling, then she can be rendered completely incompetent.
Good, so lunch then?
Uhm.. Yeah, of course.
Then he did that walk behind me thing which made it to where his evil powers weren't aimed directly at me so I could actually think and silently curse myself. I make faces when I do this so I am sure that the few people still in the restaurant thought I had a tick or something. Then, you know what he did? He pulled my chair out for me. No big deal right? Except, I can't remember the last time anyone did that.
He sat across from me and not next to me which was good but bad too. Good because he wasn't RIGHT THERE, but bad because then he was looking right at me the whole time. This is why you don't eat with people who make you nervous. They can watch you the entire time. You always find youself doing idiotic things when this happens, like missing your straw or knocking food off of your plate.
The waiter came over and asked us what we wanted to drink. I think I got iced tea. I don't know what he got because I was still trying to calm my fucking brain down. Is there a lamaze for that? Like a breathing exercise for freaking the fuck out. Oh yeah, hyperventilating. But I think the brown paper bag and head between my knees thing might have freaked him out. So I just mentally told myself to calm to hell down and concentrate on being cool, calm, cool.
So, I picked up my menu and stared at it. I have no idea what it said. Because my brain wasn't thinking about food. I had every intention of ordering whatever the hell the waiter said was on special.
So, Jason... Do you work around here?
He set his menu down and looked at me as though he knew where this was going and was surprised that I was entering so early.
Not far, in San Antonio.
Oh yeah? Where abouts?
Northwest side. I work for a law firm near the Medical Center.
So, your a lawyer then?
Not really. Actually I -
Are you two ready to order?
Fucking waiter. He ordered something and I ordered something and then the waiter left and somehow, His Smoothness managed to turn the conversation around to me. Asking me about my job, my kids, my family. And those of you who know me know that I can talk your damn ear off. I got caught up in the questions, in his points of view, in the conversation and before I knew it the food was gone and it was just he and I there.
And then he said it, something that is causing me to clean out the closets and storage spaces in my brain and find out why it rings such a soft bell in the back of my mind. He said, "like the knights of the round table." No big deal right? But it is. It's something, it's like when you can't remember the name of that one guy or that one movie or the next line in that one song. That's the kind of nagging, pulling effect that one sentence had on me.
But then, I looked at the clock and it was 2:30.
Shit, I have to go. It's 2:30. I stood up and grabbed my purse.
Is it really? That was fast. I should probably get going too. But, I enjoyed talking to you.
Yeah.. me too and thanks for lunch. We started walking towards the door. Except, I still have no idea who you are.
Ahhh, but have I convinced you that I am sane enough to have dinner with?
He had and I laughed.
I guess so.
Ok, so I will call you.
And that was it. The Knights Of The Round Table. Where is that from? Is it even anything or am I losing my god damned mind? I have nothing. No idea who he is or how he found me or anything. Except he is cute and he has a great smile and a great laugh. And I have officially managed to put several complete sentences together in his presence. That's progress baby.
part five
he calls
My afternoons are usually very crazy. Filled with dirty clothes and dirty dishes and a hundred questions and baths and popsicles and kisses. When I finally get the girls in bed and grab that last load of laundry from the dryer, I am lusting after my bed. I look at it longingly as I fold up those last few t-shirts or iron my pants for the next day. I am in the habit of checking my sheets and blankets for scorpions after the incident last year. After I do, I plug my cell phone in, grab the remote for my air conditioner and turn my alarm clock on. Then I hit the lights and go to sleep. I have thought before about turning my cell phone off so no one will call while I am sleeping but I am always afraid that there will be an emergency and I won't even know, so I don't. I pulled my sheet up and rolled onto my side. I was going over all of the things I needed to do in the morning so that I wouldn't forget anything for the next day. I was nodding of, in that place where you aren't awake but you are still semi-conscious when my cell phone started to sing 'Meant to Live' by Switchfoot. Scared the crap out of me. I picked it up and didn't recognize the number. I almost hung it up but then thought it might be someone looking for my mother. So, I hit talk and said hello as I picked up my alarm. Eleven forty five.
Hello Kate. I would hate to think I woke you.
Uhm, no. Almost, but no. I'm sorry, who is this?
Laughter, low and throaty and husky. He didn't have to answer, his entire presence filled my bedroom and I was suddenly wide awake.
Ahhh, yes, Jason. Hello. How are you? Who are you?
He chuckled and it felt like someone ran their finger down my spine.
That is the question, isn't it? And I know that it has to be driving you mad. But, lets leave it for now darling, if you don't mind?
Hmmm. I guess, for now. But, you will have to tell me, soon.
And I will, soon. So, did you manage to clear a few hours in your schedule for me?
No. I haven't yet. I have to admit that I am extremely hesitant to spend an entire evening with a man I don't know and who doesn't seem inclined to tell me.
(yes, I really talk like this. Shut up)
I understand, completely. So lunch then? That is safe. You can meet me at [restaurant] and we will see if I can't ease your nerves enough for an entire evening. Does one o'clock suit you?
I thought about it for a few seconds. It was safe and it was just lunch.
Yes. One is fine. So I guess I will be seeing you tomorrow then?
I am already looking forward to it. Get some sleep Kate, sweet dreams.
You too.
Bye.
I knew that Jiffinner would be beyond pissed that I didn't call, but she was going to have to wait until tomorrow. Who is this guy? Well, there was no use in trying to sleep now. I got up and came to check my email and update my blog for you guys.
Who the hell do you think he is??
Hello Kate. I would hate to think I woke you.
Uhm, no. Almost, but no. I'm sorry, who is this?
Laughter, low and throaty and husky. He didn't have to answer, his entire presence filled my bedroom and I was suddenly wide awake.
Ahhh, yes, Jason. Hello. How are you? Who are you?
He chuckled and it felt like someone ran their finger down my spine.
That is the question, isn't it? And I know that it has to be driving you mad. But, lets leave it for now darling, if you don't mind?
Hmmm. I guess, for now. But, you will have to tell me, soon.
And I will, soon. So, did you manage to clear a few hours in your schedule for me?
No. I haven't yet. I have to admit that I am extremely hesitant to spend an entire evening with a man I don't know and who doesn't seem inclined to tell me.
(yes, I really talk like this. Shut up)
I understand, completely. So lunch then? That is safe. You can meet me at [restaurant] and we will see if I can't ease your nerves enough for an entire evening. Does one o'clock suit you?
I thought about it for a few seconds. It was safe and it was just lunch.
Yes. One is fine. So I guess I will be seeing you tomorrow then?
I am already looking forward to it. Get some sleep Kate, sweet dreams.
You too.
Bye.
I knew that Jiffinner would be beyond pissed that I didn't call, but she was going to have to wait until tomorrow. Who is this guy? Well, there was no use in trying to sleep now. I got up and came to check my email and update my blog for you guys.
Who the hell do you think he is??
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
calling him back
This is in follow up to this. Geez, you guys! LOL, one tiny thing in my social life and everyone freaks out. The emails - ya'll are too funny. Anyway, I am sorry, I am trying to post it all as quickly as I can, but we are swamped at work.
So, I am sitting there. I lean back in my chair and look out the window next to my desk to see where he goes, but he never passes through my line of sight which is strange because normally when someone walks out, I can see them walk over to the main dealership. This really made him seem all the less real. So I stood up and walked into the foyer to see if I could spot him out the door, nothing. Turning around, I walk towards Jiffinner's office, but she isn't there so I walk over to my boss' office, same thing. No one is there. Where the hell did they all go? I figure I will call Jiffinner, I have to tell someone... so I walk back to my office and sit down and pick up my cell phone to call Jiffinner and my work phone rings. Snapping my cell phone shut, I grab my pen and glance at the upside down numbers on my calendar.
Sales, this is Kate. How can I help you?
There was an onslaught of phone calls from then until the end of the afternoon. Every time I hung up the phone it rang again. And if I wasn't on the phone then my boss and Jiffinner were. I was going crazy not being able to go and talk to them about what had happened when they were at lunch but at the same time I was so busy that the time was flying by. When I got caught up with everything, I went to give my boss my reports. I looked at the clock and saw that it was half past five. Shit. That meant I had less than thirty minutes to be on the road. My boss was on the phone and as I handed him the stack of folders he covered up the mouth piece of his phone and said quietly 'can you believe this?' I smiled and shook my head and then went to talk to Jiffinner. Before I had even made it to her office, I could hear her finishing a call.
Yes sir. Yes, we have several King Ranches in stock. Yes sir, three of them are copper. Today? Yes, we would love for you to come in and test drive one today. What time is good for you? Six sounds great, we'll see you then. Yes, you're welcome. Have a nice day, Mr. Jones.
She looked up at me then will her face covered in exasperation.
Holy fucking shit! I am pretty sure that is the busiest that we have ever been. I've set like eight appointments in the last hour alone. Are you out of here?
I sat down in the chair in front of her desk and crossed my legs.
Jiffinner, you are not going to believe what happened while you were at lunch.
She gave me this look like she was worried.
Are you ok?
Oh, god, yeah, no I am fine. Totally fine. In fact, with as crazy as everything has been all afternoon, I had started to wonder if I imagined the whole thing.
I told her about the strange guy - Jason, about him coming into my office, about the phone number on my calendar, about the dinner request. As soon as I finished my story, she got up and walked into my office. I followed her. She pointed to the blue numbers that were upside down next to the dentist appointment.
Is that it?
Yup.
Oh my god Kate! I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner! So what are you going to do? I think you should call him.
As if to illustrate her point, she picked up the receiver to my phone and handed it to me. I took it from her and hung it up as I sat down.
I can't just call him Jiffinner. What the fuck am I supposed to say? Hey, Jason, it's Kate. So, when do you want to have dinner and reveal your secret and slightly creepy but oh-so-adorable identity to me? I'm free on Friday.
Yes. Call him.
I laughed. Reaching for my phone, I thought about whether I should or not. I mean, shouldn't I wait until tomorrow? Or until I had more free time to actually talk to the guy? Was I calling too soon? Or should I even be calling at all? I mean, I had no idea who the hell this guy was, he could be a serial killer. Some guy who reads my blog and had tracked me down... (no offense people)
Stop thinking, Kate and just call.
She got up and walked over and closed the door. I took a deep breath and then dialed the number.
One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Voicemail.
Hey, sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message after the beep and I will call you back when I get a chance.
Beep.
Hi, uhm.. this is Kate. I don't really know what to say, so why don't you just call me back when you get this. My number is xxx-xxx-xxxx. Bye.
I hung up and looked at Jiffinner, she looked disappointed. I laughed at her.
Well, what the fuck do you want me to do? I can't make him answer the phone!
She smiled at me.
Yeah, well, I had better be the first person you call when he calls you back. You had better get out of here if you are going to get your kids on time.
Part three
So, I am sitting there. I lean back in my chair and look out the window next to my desk to see where he goes, but he never passes through my line of sight which is strange because normally when someone walks out, I can see them walk over to the main dealership. This really made him seem all the less real. So I stood up and walked into the foyer to see if I could spot him out the door, nothing. Turning around, I walk towards Jiffinner's office, but she isn't there so I walk over to my boss' office, same thing. No one is there. Where the hell did they all go? I figure I will call Jiffinner, I have to tell someone... so I walk back to my office and sit down and pick up my cell phone to call Jiffinner and my work phone rings. Snapping my cell phone shut, I grab my pen and glance at the upside down numbers on my calendar.
Sales, this is Kate. How can I help you?
There was an onslaught of phone calls from then until the end of the afternoon. Every time I hung up the phone it rang again. And if I wasn't on the phone then my boss and Jiffinner were. I was going crazy not being able to go and talk to them about what had happened when they were at lunch but at the same time I was so busy that the time was flying by. When I got caught up with everything, I went to give my boss my reports. I looked at the clock and saw that it was half past five. Shit. That meant I had less than thirty minutes to be on the road. My boss was on the phone and as I handed him the stack of folders he covered up the mouth piece of his phone and said quietly 'can you believe this?' I smiled and shook my head and then went to talk to Jiffinner. Before I had even made it to her office, I could hear her finishing a call.
Yes sir. Yes, we have several King Ranches in stock. Yes sir, three of them are copper. Today? Yes, we would love for you to come in and test drive one today. What time is good for you? Six sounds great, we'll see you then. Yes, you're welcome. Have a nice day, Mr. Jones.
She looked up at me then will her face covered in exasperation.
Holy fucking shit! I am pretty sure that is the busiest that we have ever been. I've set like eight appointments in the last hour alone. Are you out of here?
I sat down in the chair in front of her desk and crossed my legs.
Jiffinner, you are not going to believe what happened while you were at lunch.
She gave me this look like she was worried.
Are you ok?
Oh, god, yeah, no I am fine. Totally fine. In fact, with as crazy as everything has been all afternoon, I had started to wonder if I imagined the whole thing.
I told her about the strange guy - Jason, about him coming into my office, about the phone number on my calendar, about the dinner request. As soon as I finished my story, she got up and walked into my office. I followed her. She pointed to the blue numbers that were upside down next to the dentist appointment.
Is that it?
Yup.
Oh my god Kate! I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner! So what are you going to do? I think you should call him.
As if to illustrate her point, she picked up the receiver to my phone and handed it to me. I took it from her and hung it up as I sat down.
I can't just call him Jiffinner. What the fuck am I supposed to say? Hey, Jason, it's Kate. So, when do you want to have dinner and reveal your secret and slightly creepy but oh-so-adorable identity to me? I'm free on Friday.
Yes. Call him.
I laughed. Reaching for my phone, I thought about whether I should or not. I mean, shouldn't I wait until tomorrow? Or until I had more free time to actually talk to the guy? Was I calling too soon? Or should I even be calling at all? I mean, I had no idea who the hell this guy was, he could be a serial killer. Some guy who reads my blog and had tracked me down... (no offense people)
Stop thinking, Kate and just call.
She got up and walked over and closed the door. I took a deep breath and then dialed the number.
One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Voicemail.
Hey, sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message after the beep and I will call you back when I get a chance.
Beep.
Hi, uhm.. this is Kate. I don't really know what to say, so why don't you just call me back when you get this. My number is xxx-xxx-xxxx. Bye.
I hung up and looked at Jiffinner, she looked disappointed. I laughed at her.
Well, what the fuck do you want me to do? I can't make him answer the phone!
She smiled at me.
Yeah, well, I had better be the first person you call when he calls you back. You had better get out of here if you are going to get your kids on time.
Part three
Today my little brother is 23!
God, how weird is that??? How fucked up is it to say my little brother is 23. I mean, I remember when he was a royal pain in my ass, literally. He spent an entire couple of years being a 'punk', lol. Of course, I also remember when he used to sit in his room playing with Teen Age Mutant Ninja Turtles for hours... Ok, see, now I want to sing the theme song... teen aged mutant ninja turtles, heros in a half shell - turtle power! I loved Michelangelo... well as much as you can love a cartoon turtle anyway. He also had legos from hell and more hot wheels cars then any boy should ever have.
He's been a good brother though. Bless his heart, he grew up in a house full of chics. My mother, sister, myself... then for a brief time my two older girls. What guy could possibly come out of that sane? Probably why he ran off and joined the navy, so he would be around some guys! And they could do manly things... like play Halo and fart. I dunno, I am not a guy. [totally off topic, but I just remembered some books I had as a kid called the Thingamajigs, did you guys have these??]
Anyway, Noah and I fought a lot, probably because we were only two years apart. It wasn't until he hit highschool that he and I could really hang out and talk. We have always been very different people, different priorities and really very different lives. But you know what? My brother kicks ass.
My brother has stepped up and filled in the shoes of father figure for my girls. He has loved them, so much, from day one. He has always taken the extra time to sit and talk to them or call and see how they are or spend a fortune on a birthday party because he couldn't be there. He loves them, more than any uncle has ever loved a child. He loves them as though he were their father. And for that, he is the best brother I could ever imagine having. And the best uncle they could ever have.
Noah, I love you so much. And I am so absolutely proud of you in everything that you do and in the man that you have become. Happy Birthday.
~Your Sister
Monday, July 18, 2005
conversation with a stranger
I was sitting at my desk when he walked up and stood in my doorway. I didn't look up but rather assumed it was my co-worker and said I was almost through and to please give me three more minutes. He laughed and I jumped. The laughing, had there been any, should have been female. I looked up then and saw him. He was tall, at least six three, and wearing faded jeans and a dark green shirt. These eyes, these dark green eyes, looked back at me. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know who he was. He smiled and walked completely into my office and sat down in front of me. I had never seen anyone who looked quite like him, who radiated that kind of handsomeness and laughter in the same breath. To say hello seemed silly and so I apologized for my comment and tried not to stare quite so obviously. He laughed again, in that good natured kind of way that made you feel like he had actually found the humor in this, as he did in everything. This made him all the more attractive. It made me want to get my camera out and take his picture, but that seemed silly so I sat back then and smiled. If anyone can regain their composure quickly, it is me. Although, I was sure he knew already that he could easily intimidate me. He was acting as though he had sat in that chair, in my office, laughing and charming so many times before when in fact this was the first time I had ever seen him. I asked him what I could do for him (assuming he was a lost customer) and he leaned forward. I watched him sit up and slowly extend his arm towards me. I, too, leaned forward and shook it as he was silently requesting.
My name is Jason.
Well, hi Jason... my name is Ka-
Kate. Yes, I know.
Then he sat back in his chair, my chair, and this time propped his cheek on his fisted hand and just looked at me. Not like he was waiting for anything, not like he was even wanting anything other than just to look at me. He was looking at me as though he appreciated the opportunity to do so. And it was making me nervous because I couldn't figure out why he was there. Why he was looking at me. Was he a customer? Had I been emailing him? Was I expecting someone this afternoon? I glanced down at my calendar and shifted a paper over off of todays date, but nothing was scheduled. I didn't think there would be, I hadn't set any appointments because I had reports to finish. Which is what I should have been doing right then. While he looked at me. I couldn't just sit there in this silence. I would go mad, surely.
I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but do I know you?
Not yet. Not now. But you will. I would like to buy you dinner. When are you free?
I laughed. Of course I laughed. This is ridiculous. Am I asleep? Some guy, some mysterious man, is sitting in my office like he's been there before offering to buy me dinner and looking at me like he knows me. And he is gorgeous with his golden brown hair, curly, a little long and just ever so slightly mussed and his tanned cheek resting on his hand and that look, that carefree and happy look. His eyes, with that sparkle. Who is this man? He has to be a customer! Has to be. No one else knows I am here, I don't talk to anyone else... Me, being rational, I had to ask... again.
So, let me get this straight. I don't know you, I've never seen you, and you just walk into my office and sit down and ask me to dinner. How did you even get here?
He sat up some in his seat and propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and laced his fingers together in the middle. He looked.. he looked... cocky. Maybe that is too harsh a word. He looked self-assured, confident. Then he smiled. A smile that started on one side of his mouth and then worked it's way over to the other side and made my stomach muscles wake up.
It doesn't matter, Kate. What matters is that I am sitting here in front of you right now asking for some of your time. Some time to get to know you better, to make you smile. And you are curious. I know you are. You want to know who I am. I want to tell you, so have dinner with me.
He held my eyes for a moment more and then stood up and leaned down, putting both hands on my desk. I looked at his hands and then made my way up his arms, his very nice arms, to his face. He smelled good, like coffee and new clothes with just a hint of cologne. He smiled again.
I understand that you are hesitant now to accept. But you'll change your mind and when you do, you can call me.
He picked up the pen I had been using and wrote down his number on my desk calendar, right next to the reminder that I needed take my girls to their dentist appointment on the twentieth, day after tomorrow. The number was upside down which made me smile.
You're awful sure of yourself, mister... I'm sorry, your last name was? (It was my last attempt to get something on him. I know a big chunk of you "bloodhound" girls out there who could have had me any and all dirt on this mystery dude in like ten minutes.)
Cute, Kate. You'll find out soon enough.
He handed me back my pen and held my hand a moment, making my stomach muscles tense up. Then he turned and walked to the door. He stopped and looked at me again.
I'll talk to you soon.
Then he winked and walked out. That sexy ass wink that guys do in movies and you rewind because you want to watch it one more time.
Well, well, well, readers... what have we here?
part two
My name is Jason.
Well, hi Jason... my name is Ka-
Kate. Yes, I know.
Then he sat back in his chair, my chair, and this time propped his cheek on his fisted hand and just looked at me. Not like he was waiting for anything, not like he was even wanting anything other than just to look at me. He was looking at me as though he appreciated the opportunity to do so. And it was making me nervous because I couldn't figure out why he was there. Why he was looking at me. Was he a customer? Had I been emailing him? Was I expecting someone this afternoon? I glanced down at my calendar and shifted a paper over off of todays date, but nothing was scheduled. I didn't think there would be, I hadn't set any appointments because I had reports to finish. Which is what I should have been doing right then. While he looked at me. I couldn't just sit there in this silence. I would go mad, surely.
I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but do I know you?
Not yet. Not now. But you will. I would like to buy you dinner. When are you free?
I laughed. Of course I laughed. This is ridiculous. Am I asleep? Some guy, some mysterious man, is sitting in my office like he's been there before offering to buy me dinner and looking at me like he knows me. And he is gorgeous with his golden brown hair, curly, a little long and just ever so slightly mussed and his tanned cheek resting on his hand and that look, that carefree and happy look. His eyes, with that sparkle. Who is this man? He has to be a customer! Has to be. No one else knows I am here, I don't talk to anyone else... Me, being rational, I had to ask... again.
So, let me get this straight. I don't know you, I've never seen you, and you just walk into my office and sit down and ask me to dinner. How did you even get here?
He sat up some in his seat and propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and laced his fingers together in the middle. He looked.. he looked... cocky. Maybe that is too harsh a word. He looked self-assured, confident. Then he smiled. A smile that started on one side of his mouth and then worked it's way over to the other side and made my stomach muscles wake up.
It doesn't matter, Kate. What matters is that I am sitting here in front of you right now asking for some of your time. Some time to get to know you better, to make you smile. And you are curious. I know you are. You want to know who I am. I want to tell you, so have dinner with me.
He held my eyes for a moment more and then stood up and leaned down, putting both hands on my desk. I looked at his hands and then made my way up his arms, his very nice arms, to his face. He smelled good, like coffee and new clothes with just a hint of cologne. He smiled again.
I understand that you are hesitant now to accept. But you'll change your mind and when you do, you can call me.
He picked up the pen I had been using and wrote down his number on my desk calendar, right next to the reminder that I needed take my girls to their dentist appointment on the twentieth, day after tomorrow. The number was upside down which made me smile.
You're awful sure of yourself, mister... I'm sorry, your last name was? (It was my last attempt to get something on him. I know a big chunk of you "bloodhound" girls out there who could have had me any and all dirt on this mystery dude in like ten minutes.)
Cute, Kate. You'll find out soon enough.
He handed me back my pen and held my hand a moment, making my stomach muscles tense up. Then he turned and walked to the door. He stopped and looked at me again.
I'll talk to you soon.
Then he winked and walked out. That sexy ass wink that guys do in movies and you rewind because you want to watch it one more time.
Well, well, well, readers... what have we here?
part two
Friday, July 15, 2005
A game for Friday!
Ya'll know you love my games :)
Ok, ok, I have to give credit here to Sandra. I was bored out of my fucking mind last night listing shit on ebay. And while I was waiting for the pics to upload, I was blog-hopping. I was checking out the links on Sandra’s side bar and came across one that managed to keep me entertained for the rest of the evening. And no, it wasn’t porn thankyouverymuch.
So, here’s the game. I loaded ten of your blogs into this website (which converts your eloquently written text into gangsta talk, lol). Then I took a couple of sentences from an entry done with in the last few days. You guys guess who’s is who’s. The only catch it that you can’t guess your own blog.
Here is an example from my blog. When Malcolm tagged me the other day, I wrote this:
Ok, I haven't ever been tagged. I have stolen tagworthy blog entries from some of you very talented writers out there. I have read your ideas and then stemmed off into my own little version (always with credit).
It translates into this: Ok, I haven't ever been tagged dogg. I have stolen tagworthy blog entries fizzy some of you vizzle talented writa out there. I have read yo ideas n tizzle stemmed off into mah own shawty version (always wit credit) . One, two three and to tha four.
:)
Ok, lets play!
1. I'm bad wit pimpin'. I have been fo` a very long tizzy. I'm sure I've lost plenty of opportizzles coz I would hold everyth'n inside to increase tha peace. And everyone I was wit was tha same way, so nuttin' would ever git rapped `bout. I would bitch say thizzat dreaded L word unless it was said ta me first, n even thizzay I sometizzles didn't say it . Keep'n it gangsta dogg.
2. My love, so mizzy has changed since our fizzirst face ta face meet'n over a year ago. You hizzle changed, I've changed, our lives have changed. You hizzy been a bootylicious nigga ta me over tha years, pimpin' me words of encourizzles n shawty notes jizzy ta makes me smile n playa me on.
3. The topic of beauty has been an ongo'n n uncomfortable conversizzles T-H-to-tha-izzat has been in mah heezee fo` quite a while . You gotta check dis shit out yo. As many of you K-N-to-tha-izzow, I was very heavy until `bout 3 ½ years ago. My whole S-to-tha-izzelf worth was based on being S-M-to-tha-izzart spittin' that real shit.
4. I usually say "hi" ta `bout 50% of tha thugz I come in contact wit everyday n I typically git `bout 25% of T-H-to-tha-izzem ta acknowledge me. It seems that thugz is often alarmed wizzle a brotha nods at thiznem or gives tizzy any general recognizzles
5. Anyhoo, I was pimpin' mah own business swimm'n in tha loch (it's quite peacful D-to-tha-izzown there... vizzle dark, mind you, but peaceful) whiznen I fizzy sum-m sum-m snag mah leg.
6. i do believe it would be especially benefizzle in tha internet community (wit email, instant ho-slappin' n blingin'. it is really D-to-tha-izzamn hard ta portray a tone of voice or sarcasm or sometizzles even bustin' in writ'n.
7. And ladies, I SAW WHAT YOU DID WHEN YOU THOUGHT NOBODY WAS WATCHING . Chill as I take you on a trip. Pleaze do not adjust yo skirt in public wizzy it slips up in yo you-know-where bizzy there . One, two three and to tha four.
8. This gang bangin' on mah way ta work (45 minutes late) mah ride started ridin' n begg'n fo` gas. Decid'n ta give tha whiny beyotch wizzle she wants, I pulled into HEB ta fill-‘er-up fo' real. As I was finish'n tha transaction n ridin' around ta git bizzle into mah ciznar, I noticed a homey wav'n at me n shit.
9. Through tacos n shawty debbie (thizzat slut) did mah bootylicious S-to-tha-izzack fizzle of giant brass gonads become soft n weak.
10. And anotha hail n welcome ta dizzay smallberries! I suggest you all wizzle eggshells around darth smallberries ya dig?. It appears tha Electroids hizzle not only become aware of tha Force, but have mastered it ta tha point of becom'n Sith as well n' shit.
Ok, here are the ten sites I chose, in no particular order:
Walter, Jilly, Jiffinner, Sandra, Grend31, Blog Ho, The Girl, Liz, Malcolm, RHSP
Some of your sites wouldn't work (*cough cough* Toddy! EL! *cough*)!
Have fun!
Ok, ok, I have to give credit here to Sandra. I was bored out of my fucking mind last night listing shit on ebay. And while I was waiting for the pics to upload, I was blog-hopping. I was checking out the links on Sandra’s side bar and came across one that managed to keep me entertained for the rest of the evening. And no, it wasn’t porn thankyouverymuch.
So, here’s the game. I loaded ten of your blogs into this website (which converts your eloquently written text into gangsta talk, lol). Then I took a couple of sentences from an entry done with in the last few days. You guys guess who’s is who’s. The only catch it that you can’t guess your own blog.
Here is an example from my blog. When Malcolm tagged me the other day, I wrote this:
Ok, I haven't ever been tagged. I have stolen tagworthy blog entries from some of you very talented writers out there. I have read your ideas and then stemmed off into my own little version (always with credit).
It translates into this: Ok, I haven't ever been tagged dogg. I have stolen tagworthy blog entries fizzy some of you vizzle talented writa out there. I have read yo ideas n tizzle stemmed off into mah own shawty version (always wit credit) . One, two three and to tha four.
:)
Ok, lets play!
1. I'm bad wit pimpin'. I have been fo` a very long tizzy. I'm sure I've lost plenty of opportizzles coz I would hold everyth'n inside to increase tha peace. And everyone I was wit was tha same way, so nuttin' would ever git rapped `bout. I would bitch say thizzat dreaded L word unless it was said ta me first, n even thizzay I sometizzles didn't say it . Keep'n it gangsta dogg.
2. My love, so mizzy has changed since our fizzirst face ta face meet'n over a year ago. You hizzle changed, I've changed, our lives have changed. You hizzy been a bootylicious nigga ta me over tha years, pimpin' me words of encourizzles n shawty notes jizzy ta makes me smile n playa me on.
3. The topic of beauty has been an ongo'n n uncomfortable conversizzles T-H-to-tha-izzat has been in mah heezee fo` quite a while . You gotta check dis shit out yo. As many of you K-N-to-tha-izzow, I was very heavy until `bout 3 ½ years ago. My whole S-to-tha-izzelf worth was based on being S-M-to-tha-izzart spittin' that real shit.
4. I usually say "hi" ta `bout 50% of tha thugz I come in contact wit everyday n I typically git `bout 25% of T-H-to-tha-izzem ta acknowledge me. It seems that thugz is often alarmed wizzle a brotha nods at thiznem or gives tizzy any general recognizzles
5. Anyhoo, I was pimpin' mah own business swimm'n in tha loch (it's quite peacful D-to-tha-izzown there... vizzle dark, mind you, but peaceful) whiznen I fizzy sum-m sum-m snag mah leg.
6. i do believe it would be especially benefizzle in tha internet community (wit email, instant ho-slappin' n blingin'. it is really D-to-tha-izzamn hard ta portray a tone of voice or sarcasm or sometizzles even bustin' in writ'n.
7. And ladies, I SAW WHAT YOU DID WHEN YOU THOUGHT NOBODY WAS WATCHING . Chill as I take you on a trip. Pleaze do not adjust yo skirt in public wizzy it slips up in yo you-know-where bizzy there . One, two three and to tha four.
8. This gang bangin' on mah way ta work (45 minutes late) mah ride started ridin' n begg'n fo` gas. Decid'n ta give tha whiny beyotch wizzle she wants, I pulled into HEB ta fill-‘er-up fo' real. As I was finish'n tha transaction n ridin' around ta git bizzle into mah ciznar, I noticed a homey wav'n at me n shit.
9. Through tacos n shawty debbie (thizzat slut) did mah bootylicious S-to-tha-izzack fizzle of giant brass gonads become soft n weak.
10. And anotha hail n welcome ta dizzay smallberries! I suggest you all wizzle eggshells around darth smallberries ya dig?. It appears tha Electroids hizzle not only become aware of tha Force, but have mastered it ta tha point of becom'n Sith as well n' shit.
Ok, here are the ten sites I chose, in no particular order:
Walter, Jilly, Jiffinner, Sandra, Grend31, Blog Ho, The Girl, Liz, Malcolm, RHSP
Some of your sites wouldn't work (*cough cough* Toddy! EL! *cough*)!
Have fun!
Thursday, July 14, 2005
emails between Jiffinner and myself
I sent her an email linking her to a neat blog I had stumbled across. The responses:
Jiffinner:
STOP BLOG-HOPPING! We can't both be hopping at the same time.
Kate:
Are you afraid we will bump into each other?
That it might hurt?
Maybe we should schedule our hopping so as to avoid such an incident? I would hate to bump into you mid hop, fall down, lose my spot and have bruises.
That would suck.
I will cease all hopping right this instant and start my July log.
I'm too scared now.
Jiffinner:
Crackhead. You know how easily confused I get, I cant keep up with what blog is whos and so on...
Of course I am also having trouble with my [database] emails right now so I could just be confused in general. Also don't you think we run into each other enough in real life? I would like to avoid head on collisions in the blogosphere thank you very fucking much. :P
There you have it folks, a near collision between two innocent blog-hoppers. Be careful out there, the blogosphere is a scary place.
And yes, we do actually work.
:P
Jiffinner:
STOP BLOG-HOPPING! We can't both be hopping at the same time.
Kate:
Are you afraid we will bump into each other?
That it might hurt?
Maybe we should schedule our hopping so as to avoid such an incident? I would hate to bump into you mid hop, fall down, lose my spot and have bruises.
That would suck.
I will cease all hopping right this instant and start my July log.
I'm too scared now.
Jiffinner:
Crackhead. You know how easily confused I get, I cant keep up with what blog is whos and so on...
Of course I am also having trouble with my [database] emails right now so I could just be confused in general. Also don't you think we run into each other enough in real life? I would like to avoid head on collisions in the blogosphere thank you very fucking much. :P
There you have it folks, a near collision between two innocent blog-hoppers. Be careful out there, the blogosphere is a scary place.
And yes, we do actually work.
:P
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
A picture is worth a thousand posts....
tagged
Ok, I haven't ever been tagged. I have stolen tagworthy blog entries from some of you very talented writers out there. I have read your ideas and then stemmed off into my own little version (always with credit). In fact, most of the blogs I read on a day to day basis are on my favorites list because I was so impressed with them and had to mention them here. One of these marvelous blogs is Malcolm's. The man I have just been tagged by.
I know a lot of the time I read other people's blogs and they are all pissy about being tagged... but I am jazzed. :P Yeah, I am retarded, sue me.
What I was doing ten years ago:
Ten years ago, I wasn't even pregnant with Amanda yet. What a different life, what a different person I was then. I was fifteen, I had already been through so much... I was with AZ and mad in love or lust or whatever... I was an A Honor roll student and one of the most popular girls in school. How your priorities change... I was merely a girl, a child, completely naive...
5 years ago:
The answer to that is here.
1 year ago:
One year ago I was so fucking happy that I had finally gotten my tax return! I had filed in January and found out in February that NY had claimed Triniti! It took months to get it all sorted out and it was late June, early July when I finally got it and boy howdy did I need it! When NY and I split up there year before he left me in a very shitty place financially and I needed that return to get caught up with everything.
Yesterday:
Ahhhh, yesterday we were in internet hell. major mailing problems with our servers, their servers, too many fucked up emails being resent... etc, etc, ad nauseum... Then, I went and got my girls and Amanda's best friend with whom she had her massive argument over the weekend. I was so way beyond jazzed that they had made up.
5 snacks I enjoy:
smoothies
pretty much any fruit
coffee anything
nachos
ice cream
5 songs I know all the words to:
Ok ANYTHING by Matchbox Twenty. Anything. (Including Rob Thomas)
Beautiful Soul - Jesse McCartney (my daughters are IN LOVE with him)
Landing in London - 3 Doors Down
Sideways - Citizen Cope
Pour Some Sugar on Me - Def Leppard
5 Things I would do with $100 million:
Ok, I can't just list this, lol... I would buy (1) a huge chunk of property, like a couple hundred acres. Remember my post about my own community? Yeah, I could make that real :) I would have a house built for me and the girls. Pick out the layout and then let the girls decide how they wanted their rooms, have it all built to our specifications. Let them choose colors and furniture, all of them having their own PC in their room... That garage would hold a couple of new cars for moi :) (2) I would also buy a place for my mother and a place for my sister and brother. For all that they have ever done for me or the girls. (3) College funds, trust funds... My girls would be fine when they were older. All the appropriate clauses needed to ensure that they don't fritter it all away when they turn twenty-one. (4) Start my own organization for teenaged mothers. I once worked with incarcerated teen moms and their children and it was the most rewarding job I have ever had. I would love to start something of my own like that. (5) Then, the girls and I would travel the world. See all the sights, learn all the languages, gain all the culture...
5 locations I would like to run away to:
Greece
Ireland
Hawaii
Disney World
Scotland
5 bad habits I have:
smoking
biting my nails
being very anal about... well just about everything
stubborn
lately, finances... been spending more than I can afford...
5 things I like doing:
swimming
reading
writing
playing with my daughters
cleaning
5 things I would never wear:
thong bikini
a man's ring who I didn't love
a shirt that said 'I hate MB20'
anything made from cute little animal's fur
tacky stuff (yup, ran out of ideas :P)
5 TV shows I like:
Grey's Anatomy
House
Gilmore Girls
One Tree Hill
Law & Order
5 Biggest joys of the moment:
my girls - always
*Triniti talking so much more
*Emilee making a best friend
*Amanda and her best friend making up
a story I am working on
Into The West
The fact that my car still starts every morning
That Boss is very seriously considering hiring The Cake Lady to work with me!
5 Favorite toys:
my DVR
my camera
my computer
my blender
Ruthie's fucking huge stereo that she had to leave when she went to Hawaii
I tag:
The Girl
The Cake Lady
Jiffinner
Red Hot Sexy Papa
The Educated Liberal
I know a lot of the time I read other people's blogs and they are all pissy about being tagged... but I am jazzed. :P Yeah, I am retarded, sue me.
What I was doing ten years ago:
Ten years ago, I wasn't even pregnant with Amanda yet. What a different life, what a different person I was then. I was fifteen, I had already been through so much... I was with AZ and mad in love or lust or whatever... I was an A Honor roll student and one of the most popular girls in school. How your priorities change... I was merely a girl, a child, completely naive...
5 years ago:
The answer to that is here.
1 year ago:
One year ago I was so fucking happy that I had finally gotten my tax return! I had filed in January and found out in February that NY had claimed Triniti! It took months to get it all sorted out and it was late June, early July when I finally got it and boy howdy did I need it! When NY and I split up there year before he left me in a very shitty place financially and I needed that return to get caught up with everything.
Yesterday:
Ahhhh, yesterday we were in internet hell. major mailing problems with our servers, their servers, too many fucked up emails being resent... etc, etc, ad nauseum... Then, I went and got my girls and Amanda's best friend with whom she had her massive argument over the weekend. I was so way beyond jazzed that they had made up.
5 snacks I enjoy:
smoothies
pretty much any fruit
coffee anything
nachos
ice cream
5 songs I know all the words to:
Ok ANYTHING by Matchbox Twenty. Anything. (Including Rob Thomas)
Beautiful Soul - Jesse McCartney (my daughters are IN LOVE with him)
Landing in London - 3 Doors Down
Sideways - Citizen Cope
Pour Some Sugar on Me - Def Leppard
5 Things I would do with $100 million:
Ok, I can't just list this, lol... I would buy (1) a huge chunk of property, like a couple hundred acres. Remember my post about my own community? Yeah, I could make that real :) I would have a house built for me and the girls. Pick out the layout and then let the girls decide how they wanted their rooms, have it all built to our specifications. Let them choose colors and furniture, all of them having their own PC in their room... That garage would hold a couple of new cars for moi :) (2) I would also buy a place for my mother and a place for my sister and brother. For all that they have ever done for me or the girls. (3) College funds, trust funds... My girls would be fine when they were older. All the appropriate clauses needed to ensure that they don't fritter it all away when they turn twenty-one. (4) Start my own organization for teenaged mothers. I once worked with incarcerated teen moms and their children and it was the most rewarding job I have ever had. I would love to start something of my own like that. (5) Then, the girls and I would travel the world. See all the sights, learn all the languages, gain all the culture...
5 locations I would like to run away to:
Greece
Ireland
Hawaii
Disney World
Scotland
5 bad habits I have:
smoking
biting my nails
being very anal about... well just about everything
stubborn
lately, finances... been spending more than I can afford...
5 things I like doing:
swimming
reading
writing
playing with my daughters
cleaning
5 things I would never wear:
thong bikini
a man's ring who I didn't love
a shirt that said 'I hate MB20'
anything made from cute little animal's fur
tacky stuff (yup, ran out of ideas :P)
5 TV shows I like:
Grey's Anatomy
House
Gilmore Girls
One Tree Hill
Law & Order
5 Biggest joys of the moment:
my girls - always
*Triniti talking so much more
*Emilee making a best friend
*Amanda and her best friend making up
a story I am working on
Into The West
The fact that my car still starts every morning
That Boss is very seriously considering hiring The Cake Lady to work with me!
5 Favorite toys:
my DVR
my camera
my computer
my blender
Ruthie's fucking huge stereo that she had to leave when she went to Hawaii
I tag:
The Girl
The Cake Lady
Jiffinner
Red Hot Sexy Papa
The Educated Liberal
Who: katehopeeden
Where: San Antonio, Texas Yeah, so I am all that you see here. I am friendly and kind, crazy and bitchy, playful and flirty... sometimes I am funny but mostly I just write the first thing that comes to mind and then stop when it ends. I love life and I am lucky to be living the one that I am. Want to know more?
Click here!
12/14/84 - 1/26/05
April 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
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October 2005
November 2005
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August 2009
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November 2009
December 2009
January 2010
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March 2010
April 2010
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June 2010
July 2010
August 2010
September 2010
October 2010
November 2010
February 2013
September 2016
December 2004
January 2005
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January 2007
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October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
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April 2008
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August 2008
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October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
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September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
January 2010
February 2010
March 2010
April 2010
May 2010
June 2010
July 2010
August 2010
September 2010
October 2010
November 2010
February 2013
September 2016
"The most wasted day is one in which we have not laughed"
"Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once in a while you might miss it."
"Guys are like stars, there's a million of them out there but only one of them can make your dreams come true."
"Reach for the moon, even if you miss you will still land among the stars"
Veronique
Yoda
Hot Toddy
Finding Liz
The Adorable DB
Tux Baby
Malcolm (he'll be back)
They'll All Fall
we grabbed the lion
Red Hot Sexy Papa
Snow
dooce
Madi (my stalker)
Did I miss you?
Do you feel left out and sad?
Click that link up there
and email me your blog!
Yoda
Hot Toddy
Finding Liz
The Adorable DB
Tux Baby
Malcolm (he'll be back)
They'll All Fall
we grabbed the lion
Red Hot Sexy Papa
Snow
dooce
Madi (my stalker)
Did I miss you?
Do you feel left out and sad?
Click that link up there
and email me your blog!
New Blog!
A few years later...
Things change...
last night
The Red Princess Detective
Song of the day - Cover Me
slacker.
Enchiladas and Spanish rice for my sister
Kale, leeks and pesto over pumpkin ginger rice noo...
bedding and barstools and dinnerware, OH MY!
A few years later...
Things change...
last night
The Red Princess Detective
Song of the day - Cover Me
slacker.
Enchiladas and Spanish rice for my sister
Kale, leeks and pesto over pumpkin ginger rice noo...
bedding and barstools and dinnerware, OH MY!
Childhood Memories
My Mother
The Story of AZ
The Time In Between
The Beginning Of NY
The man from my dreams
The End Of NY
Growing and Changing
Learning to Cope
These are a work in progress. They are in the right order, but more will fill in the blank spaces in time as I write them.
"I just got done reading the history lessons on your blog (yes, I've been lurking on your blog). All the respect I had for you...has increased, like, tenfold. I don't think I could have done it. To go through what you have and not only still be able to discuss it with such wit and poise, but also to raise those three gorgeous girls. You are truly an inspiration. You are honestly one of the strongest people I have ever known, either online or IRL. Thank you so much." -Stef
My Mother
The Story of AZ
The Time In Between
The Beginning Of NY
The man from my dreams
The End Of NY
Growing and Changing
Learning to Cope
These are a work in progress. They are in the right order, but more will fill in the blank spaces in time as I write them.
"I just got done reading the history lessons on your blog (yes, I've been lurking on your blog). All the respect I had for you...has increased, like, tenfold. I don't think I could have done it. To go through what you have and not only still be able to discuss it with such wit and poise, but also to raise those three gorgeous girls. You are truly an inspiration. You are honestly one of the strongest people I have ever known, either online or IRL. Thank you so much." -Stef
www.flickr.com
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The one and only Matchbox Twenty
Teddy Geiger
Rob Thomas
James Blunt
The Trews
Jack Johnson
Mark Broussard
Gavin DeGraw
Bowling For Soup
Switchfoot
Tabitha's Secret
Our Lady Peace
Citizen Cope
Teddy Geiger
Rob Thomas
James Blunt
The Trews
Jack Johnson
Mark Broussard
Gavin DeGraw
Bowling For Soup
Switchfoot
Tabitha's Secret
Our Lady Peace
Citizen Cope
That cracked my shit up! TM
Kate went to Dallas?
You asked Kate questions?
Kate was stung by a Scorpion?
Kate met Mr. I?
Kate got pissed?
There was a mouse?
Kate shared?
Kate confessed?
Kate turned 25?
Kate shared some more?
"There are some of us out here who are living vicariously through you, okay?! So for god's sake, let us have some fun and excitement!" -Educated Liberal
Kate went to Dallas?
You asked Kate questions?
Kate was stung by a Scorpion?
Kate met Mr. I?
Kate got pissed?
There was a mouse?
Kate shared?
Kate confessed?
Kate turned 25?
Kate shared some more?
"There are some of us out here who are living vicariously through you, okay?! So for god's sake, let us have some fun and excitement!" -Educated Liberal
