SETBACKS AND SCREWING AROUND

Which of these should we talk about first? I really want to dive in and get to the good slash mortifying stories of finally having sex again but I supposed I should get the less fun crap off my chest first. I try not to bog down the bloggersphere with woe-is-me/my-life-is-so-hard stories because this is supposed to be a fun blog! Somewhere to chronicle the exciting, mortifying and entertaining parts of my life.

Often this leads to less fun drama which is still, in my opinion, entertaining as a story.

But sometimes, like now, things happen that have no comedic value but need to be told as well because, lets face it, I like to talk about myself. And this shit is real life.

I'm moving to London. When I first realized a few months ago that I had to leave the city that's become home to my heart I was devastated. I cried like a lunatic in the middle of times square as I reconciled myself with the idea that I would be leaving my great job and coworkers, my best friends, my apartment and everything that I considered to be safe.

If you know me you know I don't handle change well. When I go to a restaurant I always order the same things because if I don't pick something that I know I'll like I have actual fits of anxiety. I hate moving, I hate blind dates, I hate being in a room of people I don't know. Hell I can't even walk home via a different route without an extremely good reason. I'm someone who needs routine.

So when I learned that my routine of 5 years was about to, not only change, but be obliterated I was petrified.

I spent so many nights having rambling breakdowns and panic attacks and keeping Lizz from her bed because I couldn't stop talking or else I might combust.

I'm fairly certain that I need some serious drugs for this kind of anxiety.

After about a month I pulled my shit together. I stopped crying in the bathroom at work, stopped playing with the idea that the government would magically rescind their decision and let me stay. I stopped bothering to check my many New York centered coupon sites. And I decided on a new plan.

Where I'm from there is not a lot of film or TV work. And since that's what I've spent 5 years and far too much money learning how to do, I don't plan on stopping. The good news was that both my sister and my best  friend from cradle to grave, Ella, were in London for school.

Guess what they have in London... Film and TV.

Jackpot.

Right?

Wrong.

My father decided that since Marie's apartment lease was about to be up and we were both going to need an apartment that we should move in together. Now since my father has graciously absorbed all of my relocation costs I figured I should go along with his plan despite the fact that Marie and I haven't harmoniously lived together for many years now.

Marie is incredibly smart and funny and there was a time when she was my number one choice when going out. We always had a good time and it was always fun. And clearly that was when we were younger and crazier and I know she had to grow up so we don't really do that anymore. Now her priorities line up more with what her boyfriend and her want to do and girl time is sort of pushed aside. Which is fine. I've always been able to entertain myself.

But the part I'm not so fine with is that she's managed to adopt my fathers volatile temper. We can be hanging out all day, no problem and then I'll say a joke or just a turn of phrase that doesn't sit well with her and it's suddenly World War 3.

And it's a definite double standard because the majority of Marie's humor is built around making fun of me or making me look stupid or demeaning me or picking on whichever of the numerous things that upset her about me she feels like. And if I get mad or stand up for myself then she gets mad because it's just a fucking joke and how could I take it so seriously, why do I ruin everything.

I love her and when we're having fun we are unstoppable but sometimes it just feels like everything I do is just ammunition for her to point out how much I suck.

Maybe we're both just too stressed to see how badly we treat each other but it definitely isn't making me any less anxious about what my life in London will be like. I fear that, like right now, I will end up spending the majority of my time locked in my bedroom waiting anxiously for the next fight. That I will no longer be the free outgoing soul I was in New York but just a shell of a person who makes herself smaller to placate others and avoid conflict.

I actually think this is a valid anxiety.

I know that somehow once we are all in London and find an apartment and get jobs and things settling into a routine I will feel more at ease and without this stress Marie and I will get back on track and life will mellow out again. It's just causing me a lot of anxiety right now and I'm not sure when I can get my prescription of Klonopin filled so I'm just hoping that my heart doesn't max out and burst anytime soon.

 I'm looking forward to the day I land in London because I will be like "OMG I IZ IN LONDONLAND BITCHEZ" And then there will be 2 weeks of stress and freaking out and I'm sure a million and one fights with Marie and then my Dad comes to visit which means another million fights.

But then I'm looking forward to the after.

The moment that I've figured out my routine and schedule and I have my bed set up and my boxes unpacked and I feel grounded. Then I have to believe that the fights will subside and that life will become something fun and interesting again.

And at that moment I will post a million photos of me doing stuff in London and I'll be "ZOMG I LOVE IT HERE."

Thats what I have to keep thinking about. The upside.
Just keep thinking about the upside.

Okay I've gone on for quite a bit about the setbacks so maybe I'll save the screwing around for the next post.

Love y'all

xxKK

LEARNING TO LOVE LETTUCE

So if you've read this blog for any substantial period of time or if you know me then you know that I have a strange love of all things airport. 

It's a weird love. 

I just love how self contained they are.

If you're bored, boom entertainment. Hungry? Grab any number of options. Cuticles looking a little mangled? Go get a mother fucking manicure at the airport spa. 

Mother fucking airport SPA. 

I mean… you can't really go wrong. 

However… this love is pretty much only for big airports. JFK, LAX, MIA… the bigger ones just have SO MUCH TO LOVE.. 

My small time hometown? Not so much. 

Only two very small food places… both of them serve the same thing. 

No internet connection (I'm writing this in text edit to upload later) 

And the only shop is a clothing store that sells fucking lame T shirts that say things like "I heart my Hometown" "I survived swimming with the sharks!" "But why is the rum gone?" 

I mean… come on. What you think you're NYC?? You didn't even fucking swim with sharks… maybe a mantaray but there is no fucking way you swam with sharks. And lets be honest… if you ran out of run that's you own damn fault. That's why you buy a case when you arrive for your 6 day trip. Can't be risking that shit, man. 

Okay hold on a minute… this wasn't supposed to turn into an airport rant… let's get back on track. 

The whole point of that was that if I were in NY right now I'd be feasting on delicious snacks, cuddled up with the movie I was streaming online and enjoying a goddamn pedicure. 

Okay that last part was a lie. I have ticklish feet… 

I would be in comfort and bliss. But instead I am sitting in a wireless cold ass airport eating a withered chef salad because its the only thing that didn't look like someone ran it over or left it swimming in oil for three days. 

And while I'm eating this mediocre salad I realized that after destroying all the toppings (mmmm meat and cheese) I'd just left all the lettuce. That the lettuce had gone from an ingredient to a holding platter.

A bit of decorative greenery. 

And then I wonder why I'm still fat…. 

So maybe my resolution for 2012 should be simply this: Learn to Love Lettuce. 

Because if I could enjoy a salad for the lettuce instead of just the toppings then maybe I'd stop eating such "salads" (like a cheese and meat salad) and start eating more actual salads and then maybe I could lose a bit of fat. Like I've started… I'm at the annoying between sizes thing right now where my pants fall off when I walk but the next size down makes me feel like a pig being turned into a sausage. 

While still alive. 

So… dear 2012… I vow to try my very very best to eat better, eat more lettuce and less chocolate/cheese/bread and hit the gym at least twice a week. If not more. I vow to venture out of my neighborhood more and see things that astound me. To spend my non existent money on bettering myself or learning new things instead of only on booze. And I vow to have a lot more sex because that counts as exercise. 

So full of resolution, hope and mediocre salad I go off into the world….

xxKK 

aw shit I'm still in this motherfucking airport….

FUNNY STORY....

So I started this tiny blog with promises of daily witicisms and intelligent, funny posts.

I kept lists of blog ideas.
I'd be on the subway and I'd think of something funny and I'd write it down in the margin of my book or take a note in my blackberry.
OR
I'd be walking down the street and I'd see some sort of moral travesty and I'd think, wow, I bet I could write about this in such a captivating way that people will actually put down their iPad, turn off the reality shows and listen.

Here comes the funny part....

I forgot.

Oops, My B.

And I'm not kidding about the notes in my books and blackberry... but then I lost my page and put my blackberry through the washer.

Curses.

Anyways, I'm at the airport heading home for xmas break and since that's sort of the same situation as I was in when I started this blog I figure thats a promising re-start.

Right?

Ugh.

I REALLY LOVE AIRPORTS

I made a comment in the last post about how much I enjoy being at airports and I feel I should explain this properly.

You see, to me, the airport is the perfect place. It's always air-conditioned so you'll never be too hot and if you get too cold you can buy a small, but effective, fleece blanket at your nearest EuroNews. Equally, they sell them at Hudson News too. Such options, such variety, such happiness.

They have every kind of food imaginable... you want some sushi? done. You want some pizza? done. You want pretzels stuffed, covered with and dunked in all assortments of deliciousness?

DONE!

It's an incredible place.

And the people are so interesting that you could never get bored. Like seriously I could write a whole series of books entitled "the weird people I observe/judge/talk to at airports"

Okay... I would probably need a better name than that but still. People watching is like one of my all time favorite past times. I like to give them names and little back stories and create drama and turmoil and strife in their possibly peaceful existences.

I get some of my best ideas in airports.

Also, it's just so damn convenient. You want a new shirt? Boom. You are wearing a new I heart New York shirt... they even sell normal non-touristy shirts. Like no joke... they have a Lacoste at the airport. Get your prep on before the flight. And if you aren't feeling glamorous enough you can buy some serious bling. I'm talking Serious Bling. I watched a woman drop about three grand on a diamond snake bracelet AT THE AIRPORT. Like thats awesome.

Seriously.

And if the people get boring you can set up in the corner and watch some sweet movies and play some sweet games that you bought at the nearest entertainment shack.

There really is no end to the possibilities.

So I could definitely live at the airport. Shower in the lounges, eat three balanced meals a day plus snacks, jog the entire circuit a couple times, write about the weirdos in my free time and spend the night with my fleece blanket staring out at the night sky through the massive expanse of window.

Amazing.

...but that would be weird so I will refrain... I really don't want small children to start calling me the weird airport cat lady...

I'm jet lagged and tired as hell so I'm gonna sign off. Much love to you all.

xx KK

KITTY IS GOING ON VACATION...

...to what might possibly be the seventh circle of hell...

yes, that is right, I am going to L.A.

city of angels my ass....

I was genuinely excited to go to LA because I get to see MugWug for the first time in over a month and spend some much needed girl time with Liz (plus theres the shopping and the airport time... I love airports...) but now that I'm sitting at the gate and seeing the sort of people that I'll be encountering....

Kitty is scared.

I travel in comfortable clothes... all black, leggings, slouchy top and easy slip on vans. It makes getting through security easy and sitting on planes for several hours almost pleasant.

Apparently comfort is not a priority to the locals though... There are people wearing head to toe white... and glitter... and bedazzled shoes...

And there is a man in a pink shirt and a white blazer... its like I fell into a miami vice-gold digger hybrid. And I don't like it.

A rat just popped out of a backpack... by rat I mean an albino little fucker of the chuiaua species. I swear to god if I hear one yip or yap or rapataptap out of that dog I will smack its unholy abomination of a head so hard that it will jump out the window and take its chances with an unparachuted jump from 40,000 feet up.

Rat.

The flight begins and a small child pops up with a bedazzled iPhone and she insists on calling her nanny to say she's on the plane. I might actually vomit.

Now they're playing the Last Song.

Kill me now.. lemme break this down for you... a girl from New York, who sounds like a man from texas, moves to Georgia for a summer with her father. She's grumpy and hates everything. She gave up everything she ever loved because shes sooo dark nd twisty and damaged. Then a boy steals her heart and suddenly she wants to "sing" and be fun again. Oh emm gee boys make like everything like totally better! *gag* This movie isnt over yet but I predict a stupid twist of "you lied to me I hate everything about you and now I hate life again" and then a "oh I forgive you and now everything is better" ending.

Sweet Lord Baby Jesus, save me.

In an interesting LA flight twist though, I have now met MugWugs doppleganger... like not even kidding, he's got his jawline, height, body, fshion sense and even his hair! (now if you ever met MugWug you would understand that the hair is a big deal... he spends so much time on it.. and it's this very particular color and shaped very specifically... god forbid his hair isn't right at any point in time) Anyways... the only thing thats different about this guy is he has totally different eyes and his smile is much more goofy than MugWug... which is hard to do...

Oh wow... the "you lied to me" twist of Last Song just happened and it wasn't even a whole minute between that and the "my brother died so I get to be an asshole and sensitive at the same time...ooh im such a dark and twisty boy" twist.

Okay I'm off to continue judging my flightmates. Because this opertunity may never come around again.. (one can only hope).. and there are only so many straw fedoras and fake glasses that I can take before busting out the serious judgement.

The one promising thing about this flight? The guy in front of me is reading a movie script. Like a real live movie script... I'm writing a script currently and it's nice to be reminded that one day someone might be reading mine.. and then hopefully all y'all will be watching them on a big screen.

Lots of love,

Mama Kat.