Tremendous Blondette

Mail Call

So, I am sort of scatterbrained about a few things like checking my mail. I forget to do it for weeks at a time. Apparently, a package arrived for me and it sat in the mailbox package thing for so long that they had to either give it to the office or send it to the post office. (The date on the slip said 11/24, so it couldn’t have been in the box that long.) The slip I got in my mailbox was a little ambiguous. Now I must remember to call the office and determine whether or not there is a package for me. I’m not sure from whom I’d receive a package. I haven’t purchased anything online lately. It’s not *that* close to Christmas that I’d be getting a gift. Weird. I hope I remember to call the office tomorrow.

2007 Company X Holiday Party

Also, when I checked my mail, I found my invitation to the company holiday party. I enjoy the company holiday party. My first one was in 2005. In 2006, I drank a lot of wine and somehow ended up with several people’s gifts. The holiday party was my first exposure to the concept of a “white elephant” gift. I traded my tin of caramel popcorn for the ceramic-barn-yard-animal-to-be-named-later-now-called-URL-the-Yakpot. (the sign announcing the naming contest is vintage 2005.)

Anyhow, the invitation said I need to RSVP to Tammi (hi Tammi!) by November 30th. I suppose that means I need to say if I’m bringing the “and Guest” that my invitation addressed. Problem is, I don’t have a “and Guest.” To my first company holiday party (which I attended when I was still but a lowly–but paid–intern), I brought my best friend, Stacie. To my second company holiday party, I brought myself and no “and Guest.” You know, “they” do say that the third time’s a charm…

So, who should I bring? the party is on December 17th (a Monday) and tends to involve laughter, merriment, yummy food, and free wine and beer. OH and the white elephant gift exchange. OH AND, THE MOST IMPORTANT PART—–the pleasure of my company for the evening. Volunteers?

hehe.

Tonight I had dinner with my college roommate, Gentri. She currently lives in Texas, but today interviewed with a company here in town–this is the same company where my friend Carrie interviewed a couple weeks ago.

We had dinner at Ghengis Khan *drool.* It is a vegan/vegetarian paradise. ECSTASY. After our delightful dinner, we decided to sample the fine bubble tea. Well, the bubble part of the bubble tea is balls; excuse me, “tapioca pearls.” But it was way more fun to call them balls. And suck them through the gigantic straws.

Some people may have received text message jokes about our balls. We really enjoyed them. My strawberry flavored bubble tea was delightful–the balls were a bit rubbery at times, and I found myself contemplating the nutritional value of balls, but never-the-less, good times!

It was great to see Gentri and share a fine meal and great set of balls. I took a picture of our teas hanging out together on the table–Gentri’s with its blue straw, and mine with its pink straw. They were a fine pair.

But! I warn you! balls are quite filling, especially after a fine meal. But man, they hit the spot.

If you think the ball jokes in this post are bad, you should have heard the jokes we were cracking (at the expense of our balls) at the restaurant. Yes, we jested our balls in public!

It just goes to show you how a good dose of balls can cure the stress and blues of a hectic a day.

I wish I went to the movies more often. I enjoy myself 99% of the time (yes, that 1% is because of my Elizabethtown experience. Company can make or break the movie-watching/movie-going experience–I’ve been lucky enough to have good company for all the movies I’ve seen in the past 2 years) Not long ago I blogged on this very topic of movie watching. One of the movies that made my list of “Interested in Seeing” was August Rush.

Why did this movie appeal to me? Well, first, I am a sucker for anything with Keri Russell, aka Felicity! I love her. Let’s not delve into that right now. (she’s lovely and expressive and delicate and forceful–all of which made her perfect for the role of Lyla Novacek.) Second, I loved the mystical, magical element of music being a tie that binds. Music bonds us with strangers, parents, lovers; it is the voice of our soul. It is the joy in our hearts and the tears in our eyes; it is more than a physical expression–it is spiritual. It is everything around us, and everything in us.

I saw August Rush on Wednesday night. Did it live up to my expectations? Indeed it did.

Freddie Highmore is a Valentine’s Day baby cast in a magical role as the title character, August Rush (real name Evan Taylor.) You may know him from Finding Neverland (which I’ve never seen) or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (which I actually have seen!) [I do hold a special place in my heart for February babies--because I am one! (*coughsendallcardsandmoneyandgiftsandflowersandwellwishesonFebruary 21stcough*)]

Robin Williams made me uncomfortable, as per usual, but I think that was the intent of the character. Instability and passion were his defining character traits as “The Wizard.” Passion is at times wonderful, and at times horrible. Passion is angry, violent, ferocious, tortured, but it is also glorious, hopeful, jubilant, anxious, soulful, heartfelt, and spiritual. Passion transforms people. Thus was the story of “The Wizard.” I was reading reviews on IMDB and found one that compared The Wizard to Fagin in Oliver. Hmm, interesting. I wish I had thought of the comparison to Oliver. The Wizard is our antagonist–and a good one he was because you couldn’t hate him entirely.

Let’s backtrack a bit to the part where I was hooked. It was right about the moment that I heard Moondance. Several Van Morrison songs and I was pointing at the screen saying “ahh!” For those who don’t know, I love Van Morrison. There are certain songs and artists who have the ability to scratch my heart–some deeper than others; Van Morrison is one of them. And I’m not talking about “Brown-Eyed Girl” here. That’s one of my least favorite Van songs. Anyhow, I love Moondance not just because of the lyrics (though, trust me, I fantasize about those lyrics) but for the rhythm.

Music becomes tangible though its effect. To say I envy those who are blessed with strong, clear melodic singing voices isn’t entirely accurate. To me it’s about the feeling of physical gratification they must experience while singing. To be able to give such voice to emotion amazes me. I fumble around with words but I’m not sure the gratification is equal. Maybe I’m wrong, but the closest I will probably ever come is running.

I got chills when Evan aka August wandered into the church during choir rehearsal. The gift of music is so powerful in this scene. It truly has the ability to bond. Little Hope was just another example of the power of music. For her, it was storytelling and outpouring. The fact that her name is Hope should not be lost on anyone watching the movie. She is a symbol in this movie. As August ran from the law, and from The Wizard, he found light and hope. We find people when we need them. I truly believe this.

The memory of sitting in an ensemble was ever present while watching (can I really just say “watching?” it was more than watching.) I used to just mock play much of the time and absorb the sounds and vibrations around me. I was privileged to be part of a fantastic music program, surrounded by talented musicians. I was never good a sharing my musical talent with others. I admire those who are compelled to share. August Rush is the epitome of that need to share. The mystical, magical element of the movie is force that dictates sharing–the force that pulls and draws and nets 3 people tightly together, catching others in its way.

I pondered the ending to this movie–but only the length of the credits. Adding anything would have taken away from the power of the resolution. It was best to end this movie on a high note.

Who knows what sort of faces I was making while I was watching, but I don’t care. Hopefully, they were true to what I was feeling and thinking. This was but a small piece.

I finally found the spot somewhere between Ozzy Osbourne and 6am. Of course, by then I had to pee and the cat was crying her usual morning yowl. Oye. Monday. I am glad I took the extra time in bed today instead of getting up at 4am when my alarm started shouting Ben Folds at me. Even though it wasn’t super restful, it was still better than the alternative–and I still got to work by 6:45ish. I’ll just have a late night.

I am about to max out my vacation time at work. In fact, if I don’t take time off in the next pay period, I will stop accruing PTO. I have time off planned for the week of Christmas, but even that only adds up to 24 hours. I bring this up because when one finds the sweet spot, one does not want to get up and go to work. But one must. It’s not that I didn’t want to go to work–it was more, I didn’t want to get out of bed.

Happy Monday Morning.

UPDATE: Cookies are in the oven!!!!!!! should out by 8:30pm. I hope they turn out!

UPDATE #2: It’s 9:09pm and “Mexican Hot Chocolate” cookies are done!!!!! They smell delicious! Idea fulfilled. Yay! “Classic” cookies baking! Did I mention is smells delicious in here? ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

UPDATE #3: It’s now 10:02pm and cookies are all baked and packed in nifty containers and kitchen cleaned. So, I sampled. I can’t lie. YUM. Also, some of the “Classic” really fell apart when I took them off the cooling plate and put them in the containers–I hope that doesn’t make people less likely to eat them. One sheet did get a tad overdone–again, I hope people still eat them. Good times.

——-
Tonight, my cat got out. It makes me anxious when she gets out because she doesn’t have a collar so no one would be able to get her home if she lost her way. And, she’s so cute and lovable that people would try to keep her. She’s very soft and fluffy. People like soft and fluffy. Anyhow, she kept scurrying about sniffing and discovering and meowing and she just kept going farther and farther (or is it further and further?) I finally grabbed her and brought her back inside. Part of me feels very guilty because, of course she wants to wander around outside! She’s inside 24/7 and a majority of that time is spent alone. She may be domesticated but come the fuck on, she’s still an animal–rawr baby rawr! Every animal needs to be let out once in a while. Trust me, I know–I am an animal.

Today, I cleaned. I finally bought a new vacuum cleaner and H.O.L.Y C.R.A.P. It sucks well. Very well. My carpet is very happy. I feel fulfilled.

I am preparing to bake cookies. I will be baking 2 types. I woke up this morning and thought “hmmm, I wonder what that would taste like?” (keep it clean pervs.) So, what I’m saying is free cookies to anyone who wants to be a guinea pig and tell me if my idea was indeed good—tasty. (See updates!)

Also, right now the cat is meowing at the front door and jumping up trying to get out–she knows that the knob opens the door (actually, she opens doors all the time–but this one is locked.) GUILT.

This time of year everyone is asking “for what are you thankful?” (okay, so they actually say something like “what are you thankful for” but I chose the proper grammar version of the interrogative.) It is not my intent to be ordinary or trite; thus instead of asking the standard questions, I’d like to make people think in a little different way.

The other day I was thinking about one thing in particular that I was lacking and I thought “what would I give up for that?” Like, would I give up chocolate for sex? Would I give up sleep for a few quiet hours of undisturbed work time?

So, what would you sacrifice? How far would you go? For what do you yearn?

So, would you:

give up potatoes
give up chocolate
give up sleep
give up your favorite food
give up your favorite dessert
give up your favorite recreational activity
give up your favorite tv show
give up sex
give up a once in a lifetime opportunity
give up Hannah Montana tickets (you get the best of both worlds, chill it out take it slow, then you rock out the show)
give up someone you love
give up your career
give up your job
give up your favorite shoes
give up something new
give up one of your five senses
give up your worst fear
give up hugs
give up kisses
give up meat (Thanksgiving will be hard for me)
give up electricity
give up your reputation
give up your identity
give up plumbing
give up your pet
give up your car/truck
give up on something you desire
give up hope
give up shopping
give up despair
give up a negative attitude
other

For:
wealth
happiness
anger
sex
chocolate
love
a new car
potatoes
hugs
kisses
Hannah Montana tickets
sanity
comfort
sleep
electricity
something new
plumbing
solitude
tv
music
shopping
hope
despair
negative attitude
positive attitude
friendship
a job
a career
pet
reputation
other

Disheveled, though clean, hair and non-sore feet that should have been sore marked the beginning of my Monday. (oh and it was an early Monday! but aren’t they all? I was out the door for work before 6am.)

Last night, the newly opened Sprint Center in downtown Kansas City, Missouri was home to history, personal history, my personal history.

Let’s begin about a month ago. I was at Old Navy browsing their offerings, when my cell phone rang. My mom was calling to tell me that my step dad had just bought 6 tickets to the Garth Brooks concert on November 11th. Yes, and not only were we going, but we were 15th row on the floor–and it didn’t cost an arm and a leg.

Yesterday was November 11th.

One of the best parts of the night was actually the opportunity to see and hear Trisha Yearwood perform. Phenomenal does not begin to characterize her voice. I was in awe of the power, beauty, and control. She treated the crowd with a mix of old and new–one of my favorites which completely caught me off guard was XXX’s and OOO’s (American Girl)–I used to sing this one as a teenager in my bedroom. “SHE USED TO TIE HER HAIR UP WITH RIBBONS AND BOWS, SIGN HER LETTERS WITH X’s and O’s, SHE’S GONNA MAKE IT IN HER DADDY’S WORLD, SHE’S AN AMERICAN GIRL…”

And of course…Katie’s sittin’ on the old front porch watchin the chickens peck the ground…

Oh! how I remember these songs! I think I love “She’s in Love with the Boy” partially because the girl’s name is Katie. We all like our names in songs–unless your name is Eileen like my mom. (Come on, Eileen! sheesh.) What’s fantastic is that I just belted out, as off-key as humanly possible, this entire song…acapella. I really hope my walls are sound proof.

And then came Garth. He’s an American icon. Even people who profess to hate country music like Garth Brooks. He’s just infectious. Man has charisma y’all. He wouldn’t have gotten so far on just talent alone.

With each song, I found myself saying “Yes! THIS is the song that defines my life–or that SHOULD define my life.”

Unanswered Prayers, The River, More Than a Memory, Wolves, Shameless, Standing Outside the Fire, The Dance, even The Thunder Rolls–These songs all make me think of someone different.

Unanswered Prayers will always remind me of my stepdad and my mom. My mom once told me that my stepdad told her (and I’m paraphrasing and such here because I have no idea what the words were, but I know what the meaning was) that he identified with Unanswered Prayers. He had a love when he was younger, I don’t know much about her or their time together, but I know that he was happy it didn’t work because he found my mom. Beautiful.

The River—well, I’m a dreamer. This one matches with my ideology so completely, how could I not get tingles? I do believe in taking chances and living. I’ve taken a few. I am still reeling from some. But I choose to chance the rapids and dare to dance the tide.

More Than a Memory–I think of someone I know who is haunted by memories of someone loved. It makes me sad that anyone has to feel that pain and angst–and that there’s nothing I can do to make it subside. I really like this song, but I really hate that it’s reality for anyone. I find myself drawn in perhaps because I can personalize it. This one hurts me, shouldn’t I hate it?

Wolves I hadn’t heard this one. Honest. Okay, maybe I have, but I certainly do not remember it. I digress. This song made me think of me, and my fears of being left behind. It’s very real.

Shameless Someone should feel this way about me. I should affect someone this way. I won’t settle for less–no one should. But careful friends. You should never abuse the shameless. In fact, you should be shameless right back. It doesn’t have to be negative. I think some people would say that it is.

Standing Outside the Fire Driving, pulsing, thriving, daring. LIVE!

The Dance This is Carrie’s song. I kept waiting and hoping this one would tune up because I knew this was her one wish. Thank you Mr. Brooks.

The Thunder Rolls I have a dark side. A brooding side. It’s this side that tries to feel the angst of the betrayed. Yeah, not healthy, right? Meredith Grey isn’t the only one who’s dark and twisty (yes, that is a Grey’s Anatomy reference.)

Music isn’t just about listening. As I’ve described above, it’s much more about feeling. Well, I have to say, sometimes there are things that make it hard to feel the music.

I generally like tall people, many of my friends are tall–some are very tall; but when you are in floor level seats at a concert and stand only 5′4″ish (there’s debate about how tall I actually am; I may be as short as 5′2 and 1/2″ and I may be as tall as 5′4 and 3/4″. I know, the uncertainty is quite unsettling! I can tell you that i need short length pants for certain brands.) tall people are not well received. I spent the entire concert trying craning and leaning to my right, and to my left, and to my right, and again to my left, trying to see around the monument that stood 3 rows in front of me. (I have quite a few great shots of him on my camera phone. I hope he’s famous someday at least.) I was also very distracted by the odd Ménage à trois that was unfolding.

Mr. Mustache, with the floral button-down, Ms. Broad-Shoulder-Button Down, Mr. Monument–Distracting! Who was Ms. Broad-Shoulder Button Down doing? Mr. Mustache was very touchy-feely and she wasn’t stopping him, but I saw her reach up and kiss Mr. Monument…oh, my question was NEVER answered. So, I decided they were a three-some. It was easier and allowed me to refocus my attention on the stage–even though 2 of the 3 were uncommonly tall and in my direct line of sight.

That said, the energy in the Sprint Center on Sunday, November 11th was radiant. The crowd had Garth in awe. “On a Sunday night!” he kept repeating. Unbridled enthusiasm for one man, one show, one night. Unbridled enthusiasm for one crowd, one show, one night.

Well, Mr. Brooks, this crowd ain’t givin’ in ’til they get enough.

The best part of waking up…is Folgers in your cup! Not really–I prefer Starbucks or Roasterie.

I am hyper, coming off not a lot of sleep (I went the Garth Brooks concert last night–that gets its own separate post) and a sort of crazy Monday (aren’t they all? trust me, they are–but truth be told, I think I’m sort of addicted to the adrenaline only a Monday can produce.) Trust me, if I spilled everything that happened I’d be writing for a while. Anyhow, I came home to a bunch of new comments on my blog.

People (if you are indeed people), you are the best part about blogging. Sure I love to talk about myself and ponder the deeper workings of my melancholy and euphoria, but man…I love that people actually take the time to read my ponderings–and then, oh yes, they take the time to comment!

Your comments mean ever so much to me fine, fine readers. This is my thank you to you.

Last night marks the 3rd time I’ve tried to watch the movie Elizabethtown.

The first time was on a date where the guy would not keep his hands and lips to himself and let me watch the movie. So, I missed the movie–and was not exactly happy. One or two dates later and that guy was history–that’s an interesting story for another day–and not for my blog.

The second time was a few nights ago. I had been wandering around WalMart and happened upon a giant display of $5 DVDs. I saw Elizabethtown and said “hey, I never did get to watch that.” So, a few nights ago, I unhooked my DVD player from the living room tv and set it up in my bedroom.

The volume was too low, but I was in bed and I don’t have a remote control for my bedroom tv, so I didn’t adjust the volume. Then I fell asleep. Drew had only just arrived in Elizabethtown when I drifted off. I woke up to the menu asking me if I wanted to Play. oh well.

The third time I tried to watch Elizabethtown, I started to wonder if I’d chosen the wrong movie. It grabbed me at first, not by the heart, but by the mind. This man, so devoted to his career and his dream, became oblivious to other basic and important elements in his life. He did not see his family for holidays, he did not take a road trip with his father–in fact, he didn’t even really know his father. So, my mind immediately said, “hmm. Katie, you do seem to step out of family life and into work life–and yes, it is easier because work is so constant and necessary and such a driving force, but…you haven’t seen your father in 10 years.” And thus, I got on the daddy train of thought. I tend to be very one-track minded at times. I drive myself crazy. And it just stuck there–You haven’t seen your dad in 10 years.

Remember, I said my heart was not grabbed–just my mind. This is most likely because I’ve run the marathon of emotion about my relationship with my dad for over 20 years. There’s no pain left to feel; no tears left to cry. I was saddened by the fact that it’s been 10 years, but I understand it. And I shouldn’t let you think that I’ve not spoken or that we have a bad relationship–neither is true.

I pushed aside my mind and (OMG 10 YEARS) and just watched the movie–and that’s when my heart was grabbed.

I like to think I’m like Claire (Kirsten Dunst.) She has a habit of “taking pictures” and I do the same thing–only I don’t make the little click noise and pantomime. Drew collected last looks, and Claire collected other looks. One thinking of the end, the other only of the moment.

Claire’s idea that she and Drew are substitute people intrigued me. Claire’s statement that “I’m impossible to forget, but I’m hard to remember” is so sad and so true at times. To realize that there is something about you that makes you not enough to be someone’s person, or more than their 1b or 2a person is not pleasant. You have to find the person (or people) who will make you #1 (no a or b), not number 2 or number “for right now.” We move in and out of people’s lives (each other’s lives)–weaving…sometimes dropping a stitch or 5. I’m cute and cuddly (among other fine qualities) and I deserve to be more than a substitute person–so do all of you.

I loved that this movie shows that what we think is bad timing just might be perfect–it’s life. Timing just is. It’s what we do with what we are given.

Just like Claire (and everyone else), “I’m one of a kind.” Me? I ended up wearing my underwear backwards all day yesterday–and the other day I fell out of my chair..then the chair fell on me. I also believe that the fragrance I wear on any given day has direct impact on the events that transpire on that day.

Life is not a movie (or a book.) I know. I know. I know. and I keep telling myself that. Yet…why isn’t it? Why can’t it be? So maybe I don’t “know.” I don’t want to know dammit. I want life to be a movie (or a book.) and so it shall be to me. It sometimes makes me do and say things that are just a little…too much. And knowing (ha–yes I do know some stuff) this about myself, I do censor and reserve at times. But I think my filter is broken. Being vulnerable is who I am, but I do try to protect myself.

Elizabethtown touches not just on romantic love, but family love, and self love (not that kind perverts.) It creates a synergy of the love we experience in life. The glowing threads that sew our patchwork.

After watching Elizabethtown for the 3rd–and first real time–I went to bed with a smile on my face and a warm, bursting heart.

This is just a quickie (I have a better post coming later after I shower and get coffee. yes, I’m in my nightshirt at 10am.)

I love changing my hair. I also love keeping it the same. Within the past month I’ve gone from hating my hair to loving it again. (I changed conditioners and started using my beloved Redkin Smooth Down again and it’s made a world of difference.)

My hair when born was reddish with some dark. Then, it was just blonde. My mom, dad, and brother all have naturally dark hair. (well now I guess they are all trending toward naturally grey hair.) I went through a phase (a few years) in college where I colored my hair in many shades of dark red and dark brown. It wasn’t ugly by any means, but when I finally went back to my natural zone, the reaction was telling. Everyone, though they “liked” my darker hair (which did indeed make my blue eyes pop) preferred my more natural dark ash blonde with highlights.

I find that I am now afraid to change to anything that isn’t in that zone of blonde.

However, today I was checking the weather forecast for KC on Intellicast and saw something that caught my eye–a banner ad. Yes, this is interesting on several levels considering I work in internet marketing and I know the stats on banner ads etc, but I digress. I was caught by the hair style of the woman in the image. I was thus compelled to use my screen grab tool and save the image.

So here it is:

I’m considering this hair style for myself. Yes, I love my natural hair color with highlights and I am a big fraidy cat now, but…hmmm.