Random Occurances & Traffic Reports

In preparation for the Great Move-In, I’m getting rid of a lot of old crap that’s been lying around and I came across a box of old notes from high school in which I read the most beautiful poem from an ex-boyfriend, Andrew Kostraba.  As he doesn’t read my blog (and as far as I can tell, doesn’t use the internet at all - or a computer for that matter) I will not publish it until I get his permission.  I know, I know, since when do I wait to get permission from anyone, right?!  But for once, I’m going to do the right thing.

Also, I finally found someone to take my old furniture off my hands.  My apartment, as of tomorrow, will no longer look like a crammed movie theatre with seating for over a dozen, due to the plethora of couches that are currently littering my living room.

And thank you Emily Sable for letting me know that I should contact your sister with any blue-tooth related questions.  Now if only I had her current email address!  I called her when I was in New York but maybe I have an old number??  Email me at k_newlove@yahoo.com with her current info and I will try to hunt her down.

I have no idea how Brad and I are possibly together still after everything he has had to endure in our relationship.  For example, shortly after we first started dating, Ixel moved into my one-bedroom apartment in LA with me and we were inseparable (Ixel & I, not Brad & I.)  We used to tease him mercilessly… about anything and everything.  Thank you, Brad, for putting up with us.

Ixel and I would fly into a panic whenever we knew he was coming over.  “Quick!  Hide the vodka!  Hide the cheese!  Hide the ice cream!”  Whenever Brad had been over, you could always tell by looking into the fridge and seeing the absence of these items.  So, we did what any normal person would do, we shoved everything into the back of the freezer and camouflaged it with bags of frozen peas and the like.  (Now that he’s moving in, I have to resign myself to the fact that I will never again open up the fridge to enjoy the cheese I saved for a rainy day because it will have vanished.)

We It got so bad that we would always taunt Brad about his favorite meal – an ice-cream sundae with cheese chunks sprinkled on top and vodka in place of the hot fudge.  Brad would just look at us in defeat, shake his head and sigh, “You’re right, girls.  That’s my favorite.  A vodka and cheese ice-cream sundae.”

One time, Ixel forgot to hide the vodka and didn’t realize it until Brad walked in the door.  So in fear of the angry lesbian domestic abuse she would get from me later behind closed doors, she tossed Little Debbies as bait throughout the apartment to lead him away from the kitchen so I could bury the vodka behind a carefully stacked pile of ice packs and veggie burgers.  He crawled around on all fours voraciously snatching the tasty treats with his paws and nearly eating the plastic wrap as well as the yummy goodness he was inhaling.

On one particular evening, Brad and I were on the phone when he announced that he would be coming over shortly for a visit.  I looked sternly at Ixel and gave her the international sign-language for “Hide the cheese, vodka and ice-cream.  Move!  Move!  Move!” and she promptly sprang into action. 

Ixel and I were about to cook some food, macaroni & cheese in fact.  (Yes, we are super gourmet.)  So instead of having a bird sized portion each which is what happens when the Bradinator gets around food, I asked Brad if he had eaten or if we should make double the amount of food so he could have some.  He said he’d already eaten.  I said, “Are you sure you’re not going to want any?”  He said that he was stuffed and we should just make enough for us, which we did. 

When he showed up, we were just serving ourselves.  “Hey girls.  Whatcha eatin’?!”  OH NO!  The next thing we knew, he’d snaked his way into the kitchen, licking his chops the whole way and somehow finagled a bowl and fork and ate his way through our dinner before either of us could find any Little Debbies with which to distract him.

And of course, Ixel and I speak our own little language so whenever Brad was around, he’d looked bewildered and confused.  On rare occasions he would speak up, knowing he would regret it later.  “What’s a rufie?”  He must’ve asked us five thousand times what a rufie is.

Rohypnol (flunitrazepam) is known as the date-rape drug.  It might’ve been a good idea for us to explain it as such but we apparently gave him some far-fetched, abstract explanation so he was never sure what we were talking about and therefore couldn’t remember what it means.  Thereby, every time we would mime breaking up a pill and sprinkling it in our drinks, he would go into his very frequent “deer-in-headlights WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO CRAZY GIRLS TALKING ABOUT and why do I keep coming back for more” state.  Ah, the good old days.

Ooooo… I’ve got to go.  Someone is out in the courtyard in the rain chanting like a monk and I’ve got to see what is going on.  “In nomine patre deiiiiiiiiiiiii aaaaaaaaaaaaaamen.”  This is city living at its finest.

My B.B. is invading my life!  I can’t bend over.  I can’t lift things.  I can’t sit for long periods.  Ugh!  This is the worst timing ever!  Brad (and his best friend The Owl) are moving in and I have to make room and move furniture and paint walls and rip out carpets and…

Ugh.  Does anyone have any remedies, exercises, drugs they want to give me?

Oooo… wait.  I think I have a Vicodin somewhere around here.  But on second thought, that’s not going to help any.  Who’s got Soma??

On a totally unrelated note, does anyone know how to work a Razr phone?  How do you turn on the blue-tooth earpiece when you’re already on the phone?  Why does it beep every now and then when you’re on a call?  How do you create a shortcut?  How do you put pictures from your computer on your phone?

I wish I had a jacuzzi.

I need another vacation.  What’s that you say?  I just got back?!  I don’t care!  I need another vacation!  Where should I go to next??

I was standing outside on the balcony of my apartment a few moments ago breathing in the night air and listening to the sounds of life.  I could hear different movies being watched behind a few of the doors – one Russian movie, one Italian… the dialogues penetrating the cold space around me. 

It had a very calming affect, like an underwater blurriness floating through time.  It wasn’t at all similar to the thunderous cacophony of over-stimulus at say an electronics store where you stand in front of the dozens of screens blaring loud commercials and bright colors with the children around the aisles near you begging to leave the store to go out and play, throwing tantrums at the feet of their parents.

Then, a guy walked out of his apartment to reach up and twist the light bulb outside his front door so it turned off and stopped blaring brightly in through his windows.  At first I thought how nice it must be so tall to make that small effort just a part of his everyday life.  Then I thought how inconsiderate he must be since that light is most likely very necessary for his neighbor to get her key into her lock and open her door.  But I also had to remind myself that he is the guy that helps the old ladies up to their apartments with their groceries – so everyone has their faults, right?

I am reading a book, “Eleven Minutes,” given to me by one of my best friends, Ixel, who I just visited in New York and who I love very dearly.  I don’t know why she insisted that she buy this book especially for me.  I am hoping that I will discover the link by the time I finish reading.

Also, I have to clarify my last post in which I put a photo of Ixel and her mangled “Grandest Drunk-Fall” face.  Apparently, although she is fun to laugh at with about her famed drunk-falling, this injury is the exception to the rule.  She and her boyfriend went to a bar in Krakow that night completely intent on getting drunk and thereby sustaining the appropriate injuries.  Upon their entry to said bar, Ixel became friendly with a stranger (as is her way) and she and Brian then had an (unwanted) new best friend for the rest of the evening who insisted on buying them drinks. 

After Brian was half-way through with his (and Ixel had naturally pounded her entire drink in that time,) Brian realized that something was not quite right and that it would behoove them to go back to their hotel right away.  Ixel argued a little, wanting to have a little more fun out on the town, but she was soon unable to walk and Brian had to almost carry her home. 

Their new best friend followed them the entire walk back to the hotel.

(Ixel and I have always joked around about "rufying" ourselves on nights when we expect to get particularly drunk or on mornings after having gotten unsuspectingly mortifyingly drunk.  We never knew that either of us would ever actually get "rufied.")

Brian and Ixel made it into their room unaccompanied and the next morning they awoke to the sight of Ixel’s bloody face stuck to her pillow.  Neither of them remember what happened after they got home but they assumed that she had gotten up in the middle of the night and slipped in the room somewhere and hit her head on the corner of the marble table.  She and I think her injuries look like she jumped in front of a moving bus or at the very least like she dragged her face across the pavement, but Brian insists she was upright for the duration of their walk home.

Knowing how crazy/careless? we can get on vacation, Ixel and I were grateful that it was not a girls’ vacation and that a man taller than six feet was accompanying her because otherwise, she might have woken up without one of her kidneys or worse. 

To Rena and Andrea, who are leaving for Thailand in May, please be careful.

What a whirlwind vacation!  No sleep, adorable kids, energetic New York, broken butt and violent shopping made for a memorable time.

Ixel is the famed drunk-faller, not me.  I got to see first hand the damage of her greatest fall yet…

You can’t see the damage of my fall but I can still feel it and it’s a week later!!

Julie Larson came to visit today from Texas and although I wasn’t much of a host, we had a great time.

I am about to pass out so instead of boring you with nonsensical ramblings, I am going to go to bed now.  Ciao!

I am still amazed by how invigorating New York can be.  I don’t know if it’s all the wonderful friends I have here that I so rarely get to see or if it’s the energy of the city itself but I am always so inspired and motivated after each and every trip to this place.  I really do freaking love New York.

Today I got to see old friends as well as meet new people and have a few really exceptional meals.  Tomorrow will be more of the same, I’m sure.  I definitely need to schedule more frequent trips to New York.

I’m finally in New York after a 6 hour lay-over.  Ixel picked me up from the airport and we had a great time partying in Chelsea.  We met up with Kirsten, Mo, Mariana and Michael.  Then we went to lots of different bars/clubs.  All I know is that I didn’t wipe out (unlike last night.)

Teresa, Jesse and friends joined me last night to celebrate Teresa’s 30th in Sarasota.  Unfortunately, there was too much drinking involved and I spent a majority of the evening in the Ladies Room with a puking friend.  When it was time to go, I got body-checked and fell to the ground with my head out the front door and my feet still inside the club in such an embarrassing way that I couldn’t bring myself to go back in.  We got Teresa out and home safely and shortly thereafter, without sleep, I went to the airport with Tara.  (Thank goodness for Tara.)

Tomorrow, I might meet up with a myriad of different people and Ian and Gregg get back from Norway.  Yay!

Samantha woke me up yesterday asking, “Gahbaamah?” After making her repeat herself a hundred times I realized she was saying “Go to mall?!” Apparently Teresa had run down our schedule for the day with the kids before sending them upstairs to wake me.

We went to a French café for breakfast with the 2 younger kids after dropping Morgan off for school. Then we went to the mall. Samantha decided pink is her favorite color and we got big red balloons to amuse her and Simon, both of which popped but didn’t cause the intense crying scene I expected.

Teresa and I relaxed at home for a few hours and chatted over tea after our exhausting shopping frenzy. It was the calm before the storm. We had no idea the magnitude of the comedy of errors on the horizon. At 3:40 she looked at me and wondered aloud why her husband, Jesse, wasn’t home yet. I was to leave no later than 4pm for the airport. I told her I wasn’t worried about Jesse yet but to check back in with me at quarter past four. We went back to our conversation.

At four o’clock Jesse walked in. For some reason, I thought he was picking up Morgan (the almost 10 year old) from school on his way home. He apparently thought we were picking her up. Oh no! Where’s Morgan?! Poor thing. The last thing she said when we dropped her off was, “Please, please, please don’t be late picking me up!” Oh well, it’s not like she was abandoned. There is after-care at her school, luckily. So if a child isn’t picked up on time, the child gets put into the after-school babysitting service. What a great idea!

Teresa and I were finally on the road to the airport at a little past four and thought everything would be fine since it’s only 50 miles away. Two hours and miles and miles of jammed-up traffic later, we arrived at the airport with only the faintest shred of hope that I would make my plane. I jumped out of the car and Teresa began to drive away. “Wait!” I yelled as I banged on her car. “My bags are in the trunk!” She popped the trunk and I retrieved my bags as I realized her cell phone was in one of her other cars. “What am I going to do if I don’t get on this plane? How will I reach you? Your cell phone is in the green car.” She replied, “No problem, my husband’s blackberry is in here somewhere.”

I fished out the blackberry and tried to turn it on. No juice. “Teresa! It’s dead!” She replied, “No problem. I’m sure there’s a charger in here somewhere. We’ll just plug it in.” I find thirteen different car chargers, plugs, adapters, wires, all sorts of things but none of which function to bring power to the blackberry. Teresa says she’ll meet me at the gate but I don’t know what gate to tell her so we decided we’ll meet at the train that takes you to the gates. I run into the airport.

I got to the counter and the attendants laughed at me before printing out my United ticket and telling me they had no more flights that evening to NYC but that I should try to check in with USAir. So I tell them to be on the lookout for a very tall, thin woman with short hair and a black top and khakis who might be running in here any minute frazzled and looking around like she’s lost. They said, “What’s her name?”

I ran over to USAir and waited and waited in line. When I finally get up to an attendant, the lady was pissed that United decided to burden her with my problems. She was very nice, though, and got me the last seat on the last flight out to New York through Philly. She charged me $100 even though she claimed I should be paying at least $700 and I agreed.

While she processed it all, a few minutes went by and Teresa somehow found me. She had been driving around and around the airport, repeatedly missing the short-term parking. On her third try, she got into the parking lot and parked her car and then went the wrong direction on the elevators, ended up on the wrong side of the airport and had to click her heals three times and sing a merry tune before she finally got it right.

By the time the ticketing agent was ready to hit “print” for my boarding pass, THE SEAT HAD ALREADY BEEN TAKEN!! So I am still in Florida although I hear the weather in New York is great today. Oh well. As it turns out, Jesse hadn’t understood that I was leaving Thursday and he had planned Teresa’s big birthday night for Friday night - not Monday (her actual birthday) as I had previously understood it. So now I get to be a part of the birthday party. Yay!

Unfortunately, Ixel is wasting away without me as a drinking buddy in New York. (Teresa just asked me if Ixel was still teaching and I said, “Yep. Working on her second year in the Bronx.” Samantha said, “Bronx?” Teresa said, “Wow, she must be a tough girl.” Samantha piped in, “Tuff grrrl. Me tuff grrrl too.” I FREAKING LOVE THIS KID!)

Oh, and for you owl fans, Samantha is still obsessed. We were coloring before her nap and all of a sudden she shouted “OWL!!” There is a tiny owl statue in the play room that must’ve caught her eye. I can’t wait for Brad to meet her.

So when I posted yesterday, Samantha (the almost 3 year old) had just entered the computer room and demanded my attention. So I quickly finished writing and clicked “Publish Now” and then watched as the new post appeared on my blog. To simultaneously entertain her while I was finishing up, I pointed to the picture of me on my blog and told her “That’s me. That’s Aunt Kathleen.” She looked at me with a HUGE smile and exclaimed, “So cute!” I love her.

I said, “Thank you. That’s a nice thing to say.” She repeated, “You’re cute. So cute.” Then I replied, “Thanks, Sam. You’re cute too.” And in her tiniest of voices, as if to indicate that she has humility, she said, “Thank you.”

Today, the children were a little less angelic than they were yesterday but still super cute (when not consumed with screaming, crying or temper tantrums.) Brad would be falling all over himself in love with these kids if he was here. He loves kids.

While we were watching Elmo do a tap dancing number as baby Simon napped, Sammy was engrossed in Elmo and kept announcing, “Elmo!” to us all in case our attentions were diverted with adult conversations and the like. Then, there was a segment with Elmo and Julia Roberts throughout which Sammy remained perfectly silent. Then, there was a very Sargeant Pepper-ish slash Yellow Submarine “music video” with Elmo singing lead vocals. Throughout this video, Sam kept perfectly quiet and perfectly still. All of a sudden, she shouted “OWL!” and I looked up. Sure enough, there was Brad’s best friend the Owl on tv - who knew he was so famous?!

I wanted to surprise my friend, Teresa, on her 30th birthday by paying a visit to her house - in Florida. I booked my ticket a few weeks ago and knew that since I was working the Oscars that I would not be able to leave Sunday night. So, I booked the earliest ticket out Monday morning which meant we had to leave for the airport at 4am. Since I am not a morning person and can barely function at that time, I stayed up all night puttering around with my new phone and syncing contacts from my address book and such.

My flight was at 6am, and after 25 minutes in the security line (I would have had to wait almost an hour and a half if I didn’t get to skip the line due to my premier status with the airline) I barely made it to the gate on time. When I changed flights in Denver, I had such a short layover that I almost had to run to catch my next flight in a different terminal. I plopped down in my seat right as the purser came on the PA system to inform us that something was wrong with the luggage hatch and it’d take an hour or so to fix.

They let us get off the plane and an hour and a half later, we reboarded the flight. As soon as I plopped down in my seat, the purser came on the PA again to let us know that now something was wrong with something else on the plane that needed to be fixed, so we’d be delayed even further.

Finally, after another hour, we were on our way. But instead of arriving at Tampa International Airport at 3pm, I landed at some point in the five o’clock hour. That meant, Teresa’s husband was unable to pick me up at the airport since they have 3 kids who need to be picked up from school and chauffeured to ballet classes and such. So we had to ruin Teresa’s surprise and have her pick me up instead when she finished giving her presentation in one of her post-grad classes for her continued studies in mental health. But her class wasn’t finished until 8:30 or so and since I hadn’t slept the night before, it was a long, long day.

But I’m here now and her children are just so precious. Beautiful. We spent the morning walking down by the marina and playing at the playground with the 2 youngest kids while Morgan (almost 10) is at school. We had lunch on the water and now it is time for a nap!