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friendships over easy

manifestos February 19, 2017

I lay here on this dreary Sunday morning, wondering to myself if the dampness is causing my ankle to ache more (yes, it is.)

I message to my friend John the following question “is it a nap, or just going back to sleep if I am thinking about it at 8 am?” We conclude that if I’ve been up longer than 2 hours, it is indeed a nap, otherwise, I’m just going back to bed. Considering the fact that I’ve only left bed to let the pups out and feed the beasts, I think it’s fair to say after I hit send on this ramble, I will most likely go back to bed. That is a good friend that helps me justify a 9 am nap!

I experienced something on Thursday that I’m still thinking about 3 days later. I jumped on the phone with my friend Gina, a woman that I’ve known for eleventy million years, but for the life of me, literally can’t figure out the last time we talked voice to voice. Thanks to Facebook, we keep up with each other’s lives and have maintained a friendship over the years. What I still can’t stop thinking about though is how absolutely effortless it was to get on the phone with her. To pick up a verbal conversation like we had never missed a beat.

I love this about my people. Real, genuine conversations. I am the same way with a handful of people, able pick up at any point in life and just keep going.  They know I love them even if I am an asshole and don’t call for months on end. Life gets lifey. Sometimes, it’s just hard to pick up the phone and ramble.

I love that with some people, I don’t need to have that constant interaction for them to know that I still give a shit. I don’t need to talk to someone every day to consider myself part of their lives, or they, mine.

I love easy conversation. Thoughtful conversation, or sometimes, friendships that require no words.

Not every friend interaction has to be a major event. Not everything has to be Instagram worthy, although, it is nice to have the memories.  (Refer back to yesterday’s Insta feed)

It is nice to have the friendships that are various, random and not always making sense.

sidenote:

Since I started writing this post, I absolutely went all A.D.D.- wrote my meal plan for the week, ordered a pair of pants, and donated money to two different charities that support the Parks AND Women’s health.

Back to my point… what was it again? OH YES.

Friendships. I’m not nearly perfect in the friendship department, in fact, at times, I totally suck. I don’t listen enough and sometimes go AWOL for extended periods of time. The thing is, if the base of the friendship is good, it doesn’t matter at all.

As I grow older, I try to be a better friend. I try to be less of an asshole and find myself wanting to deal with less asshattery in general.

So, cheers to a Sunday filled with few assholes, good friends, and our democracy.

ps- I’m on week two of skipping the Sunday shows. I’m not skipping them because I think they are fake news (they are most certainly not), but I’m skipping them because I like my Sundays to be like Lionel Richie… easy.

 

 

 

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Things That Make Me Happy.

What Makes You Happy?

manifestos January 29, 2017

Greetings and Salutations.

My friend Leslie gave me a book for Christmas called “52 Lists for Happiness” and I decided to parlay that into a blog project of sorts. Additionally, I have created a self-mandate to blog at least once a week on Sunday, and I’ve already #bigly failed at that, so I decided to write this grammatical nightmare of a sentence and work on a list. WHOA. HORRIBLE GRAMMAR. Next blog post “why I should never write for a living.”

Today’s list “Things That Make Me Happy.”

 

  • George, the dog is less awful than he was 2 months ago. I mean, there is absolute progress. In fact, he was almost awesome today. I say almost because while talking to my buddy John this morning, a fire truck drove by. Every dog in the neighborhood started barking. George, my half basset/half lab dug deep inside himself and started this slow, horrible howl song that made me actually yell and him and say “STOP THAT OH SWEET BABY JESUS DONT LEARN HOW TO HOWL.” But ya, he is less awful than he was before.  To see more of Georges adventures, why not follow me on Instagram and keep up with the #dailydogjeffersons antics. http://bit.ly/instakatethegreat
  • I love cozy pjs. Soft, cozy pjs. I’m rocking some amazing leisure wear tonight and that makes me happy.
  • I do believe I have perfected the Zehnder’s buttered noodle recipe. It’s really not complicated, but it’s cozy and delicious and probably reason #459 why I am the size of a small planet. What is Zehenders you ask? I feel like that should be it’s own blog post, but for right now, read THIS.
  • I purged my closet (again.) I know what I have, what I am likely to wear and have a big pile of clothes ready to go be donated. If I keep passing this stuff by, there is literally no point in keeping it. PLUS, my closets are not big enough to have a wardrobe of multiple sizes/seasons/clothes that I may or may not ever wear again. Plus, I need to shrink my ass out of these clothes and then treat myself to new things. So ya. Um. Purged my closet today.
  • Slug Sundays are my favorite. Minimal human interaction. Unapologetic naps. Cozy clothes and yummy food. Naps. Did I mention naps?
  • Friends. Duh. As Bette would say “you’ve got to have friends…”

So, friends, random strangers from the Interwebs and those who quietly consume what I read, but never pick up and call… WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY?

 

 

 

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a dream is a wish

manifestos January 8, 2017

For the love of all that is good and holy, the past 7 days, or rather the first 7 days of this spanking new year has totally sucked.

I could extrapolate on the fact that yesterday, I watched the casket lid close on my friend Amys sweet face, but I won’t.

I could talk about Weezie being a nutbag after getting into a scrap last week, but I won’t.

I also won’t bitch about the fact that there is something significantly wrong with the drain from my washing machine to the outdoors. NO one needs to hear about that.

Instead, on this, the 8th day of 2017, 58 days until I hit my 40th year, I choose to try to bring myself up from the gutter and find some good.

I find good in the company of those with whom I brunched today.

I find good in the fact that our waiter did not appear to think I was the ugliest girl in puppet land, despite the fact that he was a child.

I find good in the fact that my heat works, my dogs didn’t destroy anything while I was trying to drink away the hell of the week.

I find good in the fact that I ate chips & dip tonight for dinner. I mean, I know, I know, I need to do better, but I needed something fast and easy and it was there.

I find good in the fact that I’m sitting here admiring Christmas Tree # 2 as I compose this Pulitzer-winning prose.

I find good in the fact that something has snapped in this brain of mine, and I just don’t give a shit about stupid things anymore. Don’t you like me? That’s ok. Don’t you invite me to your shit? That’s ok. I’m not going to get butt hurt by exclusions this year, but I do know that I daresay will try less to please other people. I’ve spent most of my life pleasing people and where has that gotten me? Relationships work both ways. You give, you take. There should be a balance. If there is not balance, something is indeed off and needs to be analyzed. Bear with me as I gain my sea legs, but I am finally have come to the long overdue realization that relationships, either emotional, sexual, or friendly should be equally reciprocal. Period, end of story. If they are not, perhaps they need some thought and adjustment. Life is too short to not be happy.

This year. Oh, this year. I’m going to do things differently this year. Truthfully, it has less to do with the 40-year number, rather than I am just sick to death of trying to please others all the damn time. I think that straw broke a few months ago, and I finally am ready to do something about it.

It’s time to get a life.
It’s time to get my groove back.

And finally, I can’t stop thinking about this song:

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oh what a glorious morning..

manifestos October 25, 2016

Snort.

Ok, maybe not so much. it’s morning. it’s dark outside. I’m less crabby than I was yesterday. I slept for 5 glorious hours last night. I have a hot lunch date today with a friend and her glorious little baby. I’m going to eat SCHWARMA. Chicken glorious shwarma. Side note, I am moderately concerned about my level of excitement for Chicken Schwarma at 5am, but whatever.

happiness is good shwarma

Last night, as I was falling asleep, I was crafting the perfect blog post in my head. I was just tired enough not to get up and write it down, but man, it was eloquent. I was reflecting on the past 10 months and had some thoughts. Some intense, deep thoughts. Five hours later, they are literally gone with the wind.

Here is the gist of my late night musings- This year has been a year filled with change, interesting life choices and declarations of independence. I’ve had one hellacious surgery and getting ready to have another on Friday. I’ve spent more of my year in the boot than I’ve not and finally I’m going to address this issue. I have significantly fewer sinus infections post surgery than I’ve had in about 8 years, and for that I’m thankful. Now perhaps I can get back to the business of living once healed?

As I listen to Old Crow Music Show “Wagon Wheel”, I realize that this year hasn’t been “that bad.” Work has been steady, I’ve been able to pay for all of the things I’ve needed. I’ve done some work to the house and am getting ready to do a bit more. My yard is a mess, but whatever. I’ll get to that next year. I’ve gotten to go on a few adventures, one big road trip, and a few getaways to Austin. Next year, I’m going to branch out and hit the road a bit more. Marfa, Colorado, New Mexico and Port A are on my list of upcoming 2017 trips.

I’ve become a bit more selfish this year. I’m actually ok with that. I’ve grown up watching people live a life of partial martyrdom and frankly, I don’t want to go to the grave wondering “what-if?” If I want to go some place, I will go. If I want to eat something, I will. If I want that big shiny toy on the top shelf, I’m probably going to climb up and grab it. I’ve become selfish with my time. I’m less likely to spend hours dedicated to doing stuff that doesn’t bring me happiness. I’m even less likely going to spend any time doing stuff that doesn’t resonate with me.

Here is what I know to be true:

At some point on Friday, I’m going to have surgery that will repair about 20 years of damage done to my right ankle. I’m going to be stuck at home for a while, and that’s ok. I’m going to heal, try not to whack Georgie with my crutch, and hit PT with a vengeance. I want to do the 5.7 miles Great Turtle Trail run next fall. I want to join a paddle club next summer. I just want to move. I want to do. I want to fish and be outside. Holy shit, if I spend one more spring/summer either in a boot or in pain, I might just hack off this ankle and be done with it.

I’m absolutely over it being warm. Yesterday my air-conditioning kicked on and this overwhelming fit of rage took over me and I wanted to punch someone. One should NOT have to use their A/C at the end of October.

I need to write more. Professionally, personally, commercially. I love to write and I’ve gotten so very lazy.

I need to start working on my exterior illumination plan for the upcoming holidays.

It’s time for some action and some changes. I’m chuckling about the last sentence because I’m literally going to be stuck in bed for what might feel like forever starting on Friday, but MAN, will I have some plans.

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I will strive not to be an asshole. This is a big one, but it’s worthwhile. While many are trying to climb the social ladders, to be leaders, to be everything to everyone, I just want to be less of an asshole, more of a decent person. That means that despite the whole “selfish” manifesto above, I need to think about impact. I need to make sure I’m not purposely being an asshole whenever possible. I mean, it’s probably going to happen, but let’s make Kate great again…

AND THAT BRINGS ME TO MY FINAL EFFING POINT.

I swear to Jesus, if I hear you bitching about the results of the election and find out that you didn’t vote because you didn’t like either candidate, I’m going to stick you in a crate with George. Seriously.

As I discussed with my friend Leslie the other evening, it’s probably going to be good that I’m locked up in my house between now and election day. I just want it to be over. I’m only going to watch West Wing and Romantic Comedies. And Football. And maybe some cartoons. BUT I’m OVER IT.

Be a fucking grown up, weigh out your options and go vote. Vote in your local elections, vote at the state level and for the love of all that is good and holy VOTE FOR PRESIDENT. Now, if you know me, you should know who I’m voting for. But I won’t try to sway you or anything. Let’s just say I’m off creamsicles for the near future and have a weird desire to listen to Janet Jackson. I know that some of you don’t agree with me and that’s ok. I mean, I’ll still break bread with you after this is all over. And probably drink some wine. Or some vodka. Let’s just put this behind us and move on. Hopefully. I have hope.

GO VOTE

 

 

 

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