Reasons why I cried at a gas station tonight...

• Gas tank wouldn't open
• So the mom, brother and friend came to save the day
• but failed.
• Which caused frustration and led me to remember the following other frustrating things about my car right now:
• the trunk doesn't close properly
• scratch all down one side of the car where a parking garage "barrier" closed too early on my car
• emissions testing
• title changing
• tire pressure gauge that malfunctions all winter long
  

Reasons why a frustrated cry makes no one feel better:

• It made the mom feel bad because I was upset
• It made me feel worse because I realized how stupid it was, tried to cut it off and promptly got a headache
• It also left my eyes all heavy and hot...which is not the best way to drive home in the dark

Good day with one bad moment. The view of the city made me feel a bit better. Randomly though, right now, for the first time...in years and years, I wish I wasn't coming home to an empty house.

Crack o' dawn...

So I'm up at the crack of dawn, to see my friend "maybe I'm jewish" Janet off to her residency interview. I haven't updated this piece o' crap for quite some time. The lull after NaBloPoMo or post-kitchen lackadaisicalness? You be the judge (and yes, I did pull out a big word at 7am. I'll go ahead and pat myself on the back).

Here's what's been happening:

• I did, in fact, step all over the wet varnishy kitchen floor. I was pissed and horribly, rottenly entitled. On the first two steps my shoe stuck and the third step I slid in a pool of varnish...and then I panicked, grabbed a fork and back tracked. I didn't ruin the floor all that badly. The one spot that is noticeable is actually a sock mark at the very edge - from where I had to lean to use the microwave.
  
• I finished some baby socks and gave them away (pictures at the end of the post). I was also commanded to start making those socks for my friend's unborn babies. That she isn't going to start having until she is 30. Which is 5 years away. What she doesn't realize is that those tiny little socks are a pain in the ass to make and she'll be lucky if she gets one pair.
• Lot of emailing to Canada. Then a phone call to the burbs. Welcome back to Chicagoland Al.
• Christmas shopping and the like...
• Figuring out what my chances are to hit it on New Years (I'm going to go with...7 to 1. And by hit it, I mean something tame like...make out). Apparently I'm going to be forced into a shopping trip with "baby sock commander" friend where I will be forced to try on humiliating hootchie shirts so that I can show off the ample cleavage. But like "maybe I'm jewish" friend states: they're there - it's not like anyone is going to miss them. Why sluttify myself? Let's struggle with that one shall we? Because apparently I would have a better chance with men if I wore tighter clothes (courtesy of "baby sock commander" and husband). But what they don't understand is - I don't want to be that girl. If you only like me because my shirt is tight and my boobs are large then fuck off.
  

See? Boring. What does it matter if I post if when I do there's not much to say....

The presence and absence of...

Quite a while ago, I had a very interesting conversation with a friend about hope. She wasn't in the best place or mood...and she was wondering if hope was a good idea at all. Because in her mindset - doesn't hope just lead to disappointment? If you hope and hope for something, and then you don't get it...well, isn't that worse than never hoping at all?

My response was that her approach required the death of hope - only when you give up hope will you see the disappointment (in other words, you won't notice that you haven't gotten what you want until you stop hoping for that thing).

I've been thinking about it more...and I think my hope is a general kind of hope - which makes it possible to imagine that my hope will never die. I don't hope for a certain boyfriend or even really a boyfriend or for a moment where birds sing, the sun beams down, eyes meet, he twirls me around. That's silly. I hope in more general terms. I hope to meet people, to find love, to love myself. And, if the love thing never happens for me, to be happy single. My hope isn't mutually exclusive.

I was thinking about hope yesterday because I did a silly and hopeful thing: I clipped a coupon for something no single girl would need. In the hopes that I might need it before it expires....

Al's questions...

Once again, some questions (if you don't know what's going on here, scroll down a bit and read the 3 blog posts before this one):

Do you ever regret getting your tattoo? Side question: Do you ever think you'll get another one and if you did, what would it be?

Nope, no regret. Although I do sometimes wish it looked slightly different and will probably "jazz" it up someday. But I definitely don't regret what is on me right now. And yes, yes, yes I will be getting more tattoos. Unfortunately, to the chagrin of my parents, I will probably be the one in the extended family that ends up with a menagerie of tattoos. Probably a whole lot of small ones, although I did once see a huge one that I would consider. I'm just not ready for that kind of tattoo commitment yet. My next two tattoos are already planned. I'm just waiting on them to make sure they hold - I always try to wait a longish amount of time so that I don't brand myself impulsively.

Tattoo the second: stars on the top of my foot. Colored. The color is up for grabs at this point - possibly primaries...maybe something like teal, gold, eggplant? I'm not entirely sure on that yet - that may be something I'd discuss with the tattooer.

Tattoo the third: An owl...location still in question. Possible hip bone, on the front or back...not sure. One color. Not sure if it's black...

What is YOUR definition of chemistry?

Should I give back story on this question? Ok - so I'm questioning my judgment on all things having to do with men. Maybe that's not even clear enough....I can't decide one way or the other about someone, if I'm crushing on him or not. So I was wondering if chemistry can be a one way street (thoughts readers?). And then Al and I got into a convo about chemistry. My definition is somewhat limited, something along the lines of: the sizzle you feel around someone you're clicking with. However, I think this is too narrow. I now may adopt Al's definition which was (I paraphrase): when your personalities click/bounce back and forth with someone. When personalities play well together....

How would you answer this question: "So Katie, what's your story?"

When I read this question, I think the appropriate answer is one or two sentences:

Twenty-something reluctant scholar who spends her days laughing with other nerds while making websites for librarians. Is hopelessly attached to her family and a few good friends while spending most of her time around other humans being socially awkward.


So Al, here are your questions. Answer them at will:

• I heart that story question, so I'm going to make you answer your own question. So Al, what's your story?
• If you could eat only one thing for the rest of your days what would it be? If you could only read one thing? Watch one thing? Listen to one...CD?
• When you imagine your future, what does it look like?
  

Pooj's questions...

See the original questions post for how this thing is working...

What did you take away from your college experience at U of I?

I think the most important thing was definitely not the schooling part of it (because honestly, I use barely anything I learned there. The only possible useful thing I was schooled in is writing. I can kill a business case now). I think I came away with a better idea of who I am, how to interact with people (and live with them...and even learned that I don't really want to live with them). Probably the one thing I learned that may be different to what most people learn in college (sure, I learned my alcohol tolerance like the rest) is how to be alone and not be lonely.

If you had the power to make one fictitious character a reality, who would it be?

My first inclination was Ronald Weasley. But, like my sister said with Anne of Green Gables, I think he is some amalgamation of Ron Weasley and Rupert Grint in my head. There is a weird mesh there...

I have this horrible problem where I don't really remember much of what I have read. It's sort of the same issue with not remembering all that many details of my childhood. Not sure why this happens/happened, but remembering fictitious characters is not my strong suit (my head is probably brimming full of song lyrics and coding and all that other stuff was pushed out).

Does your dad make the best homemade pizza? Just kidding...

The truth is...I've never had any other homemade pizza. But, I'm sure if I had, yours would come out on top....

If you could only watch 3 more movies in your life, which ones would you choose?

This one is tough. I think I'd have to pick ones that I could watch over and over...so here's the first three I came up with:

1. The Fifth Element (Action + Sci-fi)
2. Love Actually (Romance + a dose of realism)
3. Empire Records (a bit of everything)

Ok Pops, it's your turn:

• This is a first instinct/first thought question, so you have to answer it with the first thing that pops into your mind: Happiest memory? Saddest memory?
• What TV shows are you watching this year?
• I'm stealing this question from Ang's questioner, Mavis: You have to leave right now to go to the airport for a 10 day trip. Where are you going? And...are you taking me with you?
  

As I was typing this I got another three questions. I'm going to do those later tonight or tomorrow...

Aura of impenetrability...

And here, my dearests, is the final bachelorette party observation post. This post is particularly relevant as I felt all of this at the actual wedding as well.

At the bachelorette party, it became obvious that certain people were getting hit on constantly. Obviously the loud, drunken, sort of slutty girls were the first target. But then two of the bridesmaids were also getting hit on...and it was hard for me to figure out why these girls. And I guess the continuation of that is...why not me?

There's a lot of hypocrisy in that statement...because I don't want to be hit on by men in bars, I don't. But at the same time, I do. Because who doesn't want to be found attractive?

And I think there is something about me that screams - "Don't even try it" and I think I have to try to ease up on that somehow.

I think that I am afraid of being second best too...and I'm afraid of always being the friend. I think a lot of my feelings about boys revolve around fear and I have got to get away from that somehow. I'm going to try that whole online dating thing again just as soon as I'm done with school (um...in about a year...yes, I know that's a long time) and maybe I can somehow grow some trust in the meantime...

Dashes of nothingness...

Every year around midterm and final time, I set records for minesweeper. Because I play it so much as a procrastination method that I'm bound to set a record. I just set an amazing expert record of 91 seconds. While using a touchpad on a laptop. Beat that.

Have you ever sort of hated someone but liked them at the same time? Or been unable to figure out if you're attracted to someone? And then that person is the same person? This is why I don't date. Because I might be attracted to someone I hate. Except not really, when I think about it, I'm not attracted. Nor do I hate him. Most of the time. Apparently I'm confused.

I've been knitting a lot too (Knitting my blanket: I'm at row 54 of a 76 row repeat and each row is 254 stitches - which I have to do 3 times total....so yeah, still nowhere near being done). Knitting and trying to structure my thoughts. Because this midterm sucks..and it involves actual strategizing and coming up with bullshit but pretending that bullshit is intelligently crafted. I really am expecting a horrible grade on this exam. I hate this kind of shit. I prefer programming; tangible creation of goods. Burn out city: population, me. Honestly, I already checked what I could get in the class, gradewise, and still have it count towards my degree (C-). This one, awful class is going to ruin any chance I have of graduating "with distinction." Even with burn-out, my other two classes are solid A's. Boo.

Now I should go back to the midterm. I'm so close to being finished that I keep putting it off (I'll finish the last two sentences in the next commercial break. I have 24+ hours still, no rush, I'll take a break, etc).

Sunday thought...

I've been thinking a lot lately about deadlines. Deadlines we set for ourselves. I mean, we all do it...some of us (me) do it every day. I'll finish this before I can start something new. By this time I'll have done this. Today I will do this. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. I think deadlines that revolve around my own productivity are just a way to push myself to get more done.

But recently I have had a really hard time with people that set other kinds of deadlines. And I have been guilty of this (I still am: I'll finish school by March 2008). Deadlines that rely heavily on other people or outside influence (in my example: the course schedule can pretty much make or break that date). Mainly though, the deadline that some single women set: I want to be married before I'm 30. I want to start having kids before I'm 35. It all seems so impossible - how can you possibly set that kind of timeline? Finding a reliable and good partner might not be in the cards for the next 5 or 10 years. What then? And let's say you do have someone...your womb? It may have other plans...It just seems that putting all your hopes into things you cannot control...it seems so silly.

Just like it seems silly when others (family, friends, strangers) wonder about your marital prospects and baby-making future. Who cares if I ever find someone? I guess that's a pretty liberal state of mind, heh? Radical even...

And totally a recurring theme...sorry kids. I just saw an Oprah (yes, yes, I watch Oprah) show about thirty-something women. And the first story was about women who were still single. Which I can totally imagine for myself with absolutely no disappointment. But they were taking sort of different stands on it (one of them gung-ho I will marry, one of them going to try for a baby alone, and one of them just happy to be as she is...).

I don't know...it got me thinking about deadlines. And how I'm really going to try not to set them anymore. If I don't graduate in March...so what? The world will not end. If I'm 30 and still single? Who cares...

Revisiting an old sore spot...

Recently I've had occasion to revisit my rage about the "girl with cats = spinster" stereotype. I finished some chick lit a few weeks ago that enraged me beyond my usual rage of this issue. Why? Because the lead character, in a depression after a bad break-up, keeps threatening everyone she'll get a cat. Eventually her family has an intervention - so she won't get a cat. I'm continually perplexed about this stupid, stupid stereotype. I agree that there are cat ladies - but there are cat ladies who have husbands. Are they cat men?

The reason this seems so nonsensical to me is that I imagine that these people think the woman is "filling a void" or replacing a boyfriend with an animal. And I just want to shake my head...what? Anyone who has ever had an animal knows that while it is a wonderful, enriching experience...your cat is still just a pet. You don't "transfer" your love on to a pet or love a pet instead of a human. That's just silly. My cats don't fill the void** supposedly created by my lack of a partner. They fill a part of my heart meant specifically for them - the "pet" portion of my heart.

I admit that my pet portion is disproportionately big. That can probably be attributed to my crazy Grandma (who was a pretty cool Grandma to a little kid) and her two dogs: Misty (lab shepherd mutt) and Princess (german shepherd). Almost definitely they/she influenced my adoration for animals. And I don't regret that for a second.

It just makes me crazy that I am sort of a walking joke (not meant in the meanest way) because I am a single woman who loves my cats.

And personally, I think those women with the tiny dogs in sweaters that they carry around are far scarier than cat owners. Treating your dog like it's your baby clearly shows a disconnect - that IS truly no longer your pet.

**Note: I absolutely, 100% do NOT have a void in my life because I am single. I agree that there is an empty slot somewhere (just where...I'm not sure) where it would be great to have a partner. But it's not a void. It's more like...an empty car seat. It's nice to have a passenger, but if you don't it's not a gaping chasm in your car. It's just an empty seat - sure the passenger can change the feeling of the whole trip (in good ways and bad) but they aren't a necessity.