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Other than that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?

manifestos March 22, 2020

Well, it’s been a few minutes/days/weeks/months since I’ve last posted. I think it’s so cute that I posted the night before my surgery and nothing since.

Let’s catch up, shall we? My name is Kate. This is my ever neglected blog. I screwed it up for a bunch of months trying to make it better, but alas, I have no skills in this department. It’s taken the better part of the day to even make it functional. Does it work? Can you even read it?

I write to you from the bed, where I have, as I mentioned above, been eating bon-bons (for real) and working on my website. Oh yes, and there is a global pandemic of Covid-19. Corona Virus. The Rona.

What the actual hell is going on?

Seriously though. Since I last wrote, here is a brief synopsis of my life:

  • Had surgery. Surgery sucked. Walking was hard. Got an infection. Hate antibiotics. PT sucked. Everything sucked, until it didn’t.
  • I turned my house into the annual Griswold shitshow that I always do, this year with customized LED exterior illumination. My house, it glowed.
  • The minute I got cleared to fly post-surgery, I went to San Francisco and did work things.
  • Then I went to NYC and did more work things. I walked in the Women’s March with my cousin Amy and saw Chuck Schumer.
  • I’ve taken 26 Pilates classes since January 20th. I love it so much. Pondering quietly about studying enough to learn how to teach this to other curvy girls with big boobs.
  • Work got bigly busy and I don’t remember much of February.
  • My badass boss suggested I take a few days off, so I decided to fly to San Francisco around the top of March to eat good food, shop for some treats and go get a massage.
  • Covid-19/Corona happened.
  • Trip to SF canceled. (Corona Fears)
  • Turned 43. Ate Dominos pizza on my couch.
  • SXSW canceled (effing Corona). I went to lunch with my friend Shelly instead. That was my last public outing, over a week ago.
  • Got a sinus infection, ear infection, and rocking a super fun bronchial thing. Got all the drugs. Steroids are amazing.
  • Been cleaning my house and organizing things.
  • Trying not to eat my feelings.
  • Painting my nails almost every day, why? Because I can.
  • Gave this little blog some CPR, a facelift and here we are.

So, ya, here it is. I’ve also been slowly writing not one, but two books. One is kind of a memoir/names/events changed to protect the guilty and the other is something I love a lot, a little “how not to do x,y,z” book and I just need to buckle down and finish it. Maybe this time of Corona, will turn out to be productive and cathartic?

I hope you are all well, that is, if you are reading this. If you can read this. Also, if anyone has a clue to how make a WordPress template not suck and/or have graphic skills, please hit me up. Mama needs help.

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manifestos August 7, 2019

In typical Kate fashion, I woke up starving this morning. Pretty sure it’s all in my head, but there is nothing I can do about the hunger in my belly. I’m on a clear liquids diet today in preparation for some tests tomorrow. Of course, I’m hungry. That’s what I do. I want the things I can’t have. Typical me.

Truthfully, I rarely eat breakfast, so I’m chuckling at myself this morning. My brain knows I can’t have breakfast so therefore it’s telling me “dude, you really want breakfast.” Yes, my brain refers to me as “dude.” Doesn’t yours?

I’m going to keep pretty busy today to avoid the desire to binge/graze/eat all of the foods. I actually am excited about a 36 hour fast (says no one ever.)

I’m excited to get to the roots of my GI issues and maybe figure out why I can’t really drink wine anymore without burning firelike feels in my esophagus.

It makes for a great date- “darling, hand me a bottle of tums please.”

(Imagine me rolling my eyes.)

Speaking of dates, I’ve not been on a good one in a while. I had signed up for Bumble a month ago, and I am blown away by how many men are out there that really like taking photos of themselves in bathrooms. I’ll take a car selfie (yes, me, the Queen of Car Selfies), before I see one more toilet in the back of a selfie. Nothing says “ladies, I’m single and ready to mingle” than seeing a messy sink and toilet in the back of a photo.

Truthfully, I was asked out on a date last week. I was asked out on a date by a guy that was actually married, but he liked to go to dinner with ladies and go home to his wife.

Wait, what?

I can’t.

Not even for a free dinner.

Crap, now I’m thinking about food again.

Happy Wednesday.

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A Month Of Thanks

manifestos November 1, 2015

In honor of the month of November, aka, the kick off to eating season, I find myself in a place of deep, deep snark. I mean, epic snark, and struggling to find the grace to behave like a functioning, polite adult in most conversations.


I decided to jump on the “thanks” bandwagon and try to find something each day that I am more or less thankful for. If you have seen my attempts at this before, I’ve mentioned my thanks for grapes, because when they rot, they turn into wine, and I’ve also been thankful for cows, because they turn into delicious, heavenly steak.

So, without further ado, I offer for review, my daily thanks, complete with a lame Precious Moments graphic.


1. I give thanks for George, my new rescue dog. 50lbs of 11 month old half basset/half lab male pup. He is curious (like the monkey), sassy (like George Jefferson) and clumsy (like George of the Jungle.) He keeps me on my toes, and aware of anything I have laying around. You know, like a wooden spoon, or a $90 bra.

2. I give thanks for the fact that I can bend over and give myself a pedicure. With the personal economy being much like Greeces, I find myself eschewing the lavish expenditures at an Asian nail salon, instead trying to make my Fred Flintstone feet look less pre-historic, and more girl-like. I am thankful that I have a reason to get a job: to be able to get another pedicure, and I’m really thankful that it’s practically boot season, so that no one can see the HIDEOUS job I did today painting. It looks like a toddler, cracked out on Halloween candy did the job.

3. I’m thankful for the fact that I had over 200 kids last night come through trick or treating. I didn’t want/need any left over candy. Especially the Reeses pumpkins. Ya, I need to keep chanting that one. My ass thanks the kids, even if my brain is semi bitter.

Stay tuned for tomorrows installment of November Thanks.



In the immortal words of Steve Miller Band…

manifestos September 23, 2015

I’m a smoker, a joker, a midnight toker…

Ok, so, maybe just a joker today.

I bring you this manifesto today to discuss how very much cancer sucks monkey balls. Actually, scratch that, more than monkey balls. Elephant balls.

See, I’m particularly annoyed with the “cancer” again, because it’s shown up at the doorstep of my friend Amy. Amy kicked off the craptastical journey of chemo to kick “the effing cancer” yesterday and I want her to know that I love her and support her and all of the warm fuzzy thoughts. So, my promise to her was that I was going to write MORE during her journey to keep her spirits lifted with my shallow thoughts and snark. It’s not much, but I can do THIS. The point of this story is to say that cancer sucks, chemo blows and Amy my friend, we are with you each step of the way!


So, this brings us to todays diatribe. Folks, at 5:47am, you can officially say that I jumped the shark. Nay, sold my soul to the devil and have officially become my mother. Yes, you read that right, I BECAME MY MOTHER this morning.

See, today is the fucking fabulous first day of fall. (Lovely fall alliteration there, huh?). I celebrate fall because I hail from a land of the BEST FALL IN THE ENTIRE WORLD, and I currently live in a state that often times FORGETS TO HAVE FALL. Despite the tempestuous relationship that I have with fall, every year, I hug, nay, squeal at the arrival of the first day of fall and decorate my house oh-so-slightly in Autumn style.

mefallBullshit. I’m going to call bullshit on myself this morning. Oh-so-slightly? How about I put up a FREAKING “AUTUMN” TREE, dispersed 25 ceramic/glass pumpkins and owls throughout the house and wait for it… wait for it… the reason I have officially become my mother. At 5:47am, I was taking down my perfectly lovely white waffle-cloth shower curtain in the primary bathroom and replaced it with ones that bear the subtle tones of fall. THEN, I swapped out my bath mat and rug. THEN, I swapped out a basket for a more rustic Longaberger basket for the counter. Not to keep anything fecking simple, I then hung two pictures. AT 5:47am CST.

With hammer in mid-swing, I realized that I have gone to the dark side, and there is clearly no going back. All of these years, I’ve been fighting this very thing, and with a simple swing of a pink hammer, I realize that I have failed in my quest for individuality and well, NOT TURNING INTO MY MOTHER.

There you have it. My admission of the day. My failure as an individual.

What next? Am I going to start sitting on the porch and critiquing my neighbors? Oh hell….

Have a good day everyone, and Amy, I love ya!