Monday, February 29, 2016

For the love, it finally happened.

(They finally came to their senses).


In case you have been living in a hole somewhere, then you probably know that Leonardo DiCaprio has finally won an Oscar. The moment finally came for his work on The Revenant (that I haven't seen yet, but really want to and have every intention of).

If you're like me, then you think that he should already have like nineteen Oscars by now, but that is neither here nor there. Actually, you know what, it is here or there, let's just list off all of the films that should have garnered him an Oscar before this point:

  • What's Eating Gilbert Grape?!
  • The Basketball Diaries
  • Romeo and Juliet
  • TITANIC
  • The Man in the Iron Mask
  •  Catch Me If You Can
  • Gangs of New York 
  • The Departed
  • Blood Diamond
  • Revolutionary Road
  • Shutter Island
  • Inception
  • J. Edgar
  • Django Unchained
  • The Great Gatsby
  • The Wolf of Wall Street

And if you don't agree, then that's fine. You're entitled to be wrong. But for all of us sane (ok, "sane" is questionable when describing me), we all know that this moment was long overdue. And the fact that he used his speech to spread awareness on our failing ecosystem and send out good vibes and love was great to see (he's the only reason that I tuned into the Oscars..... and I only did for his category #sorrynotsorry). Plus, all of that Leo and Kate love? Amirite?! No, not me Kate, but the actual, beautiful, and talented Kate (Winslet- although Hudson is pretty impressive herself). My friend Dea even posted a mashup of Leo and Harry Potter for me to my FB timeline, because she knows that I'm kind of in love with the Harry Potter universe to. Quit judging, it's my generation and it's awesome!!

Here's to you, Leo. Cheers. 
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Wednesday, February 24, 2016

It's official: I have a type.

(And that type is- criminal).


Let's just pretend for a minute that people are always truthful and that denying something that were true would result in a painful shock to your bits and pieces until the truth had been set free.

Still with me?

I've talked about the randomness that is my existence and every now and then the subject of "dating" or "relationships" have popped in (as they often do) and I've rambled about them a tad here and there. I've never really known why none of my "relationships" have not worked out (except that one, I know what happened there- that dude was a dick), and I've never really even had the desire to know, but I tend to not put too much thought into it, because why in the hell would I want to?

After all, I can use the fact that all of my "exes" are douche canoes, but the only common denominator in all of those "relationships" were me. So, even though those guys are assholes (and trust me when I say that they are), I still picked them. Therefore, I am partially responsible for the upending of every one of them.

I don't think all guys are assholes, there are some real good ones out there, but I clearly don't pick them. My fault. Seriously, no matter which way you spin it- my fault.

And no, I'm not taking all of the blame and trying to be one of those "it was my fault that guy was bad to me", because they could have just been decent people and not done it in the first place, but I am the one that chose to stay until I finally reached my breaking point and was like- AHHHHHHHH........

But I digress.

Mostly, because I'm not exactly making myself sound good here (honesty can kick you in the nads at times), but also, because I've chosen not to date in a long time, because deep down I've always known what kind of guy I end up being attracted to. And frankly, I'm getting too damn old and I'm way too tired to deal with that shit.

And I've always known, but shoved it deep down in the back of my mind and pit of my stomach, because people will usually agree with yours, but never admit their own faults.

But finally while I was drunkenly watching Justified the other night, I admitted it. My type is: Boyd Crowder. Criminal.

Quit judging. I don't seek out criminals on purpose, they just so happen to find me and ask if they can buy me a drink. And next thing I know, I'm on the back of a questionable three-wheeler downing tequila and wondering why I haven't hung out with this guy before. And then somewhere around, probably a week in, I realize why. Because that dude is shady as hell.

And in full disclosure, that particular dude was really fun and we're still friends, so that probably makes me a little shady to, but we're going to go with I just like people with "colorful" personalities. However, I don't like to get into their "shady business" so I usually part ways long before all of that. Do I know what they're up to and what the plan is? Nope. Nor do I want to, but let's be honest. You can know nothing about a person, but spend less than five minutes with them and tell if they're living in the shade of life.

Unfortunately, I wasn't attracted to any of them as much as I am to Boyd Crowder..... Or, is that fortunate? But none of them were as smart, cool, suave, hysterical, attractive, or loving as Boyd either, so we'll call it a draw. And don't get me wrong, I know that I'm not exactly a "catch", but I feel like maybe I do deserve not to get shot in the face, because the dude I'm kind of seeing thinks that he's smarter than he actually is.

Spoiler alert: He never is.

And while most girls go through their "bad boy" phase at around sixteen, with a boy that might ride a motorcycle or has tattoos, that phase usually ends long before their eighteenth birthday. Lessons are learned and hearts are a little broken, but you move on, because you guys were "just a couple of kids."

Unless you're me. And I didn't start going through that "phase" until I was eighteen. Do you know what happens when you don't hit that "phase" until your eighteenth birthday? I'll tell you, it doesn't become a "phase" but instead a "pattern." Until you eventually learn that you're effing stupid and you need to stop while you're ahead.

Mission. Accomplished.
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Monday, February 22, 2016

I just don't understand.

(Not to be confused with things parents just don't understand).



People throw out "terms" at the drop of a hat these days. And with the endless "urban dictionary" (thanks a lot for encouraging teenagers..... asshole) at our disposal it's near impossible not to hear or even be referred to as one of these "phrases."

Case in point: "You're my Ride or Die girl." (They use the term "chick" as in- "you my ride or die chick" but I just can't bring myself to go with that).

Urban Dictionary Definition: A girl who is down for her man in any situation; a girl who's not afraid of throwin down side by side with her man, even if she's the only female; she's the girl who rides in tha passenger seat with the heat ready on her lap and knows all the targets.

Umm..... What?! First of all, is it really that hard to put a "g" on the end of throwin and do we really need to say "tha" instead of "the"? Come on guys, you're killing me!!

Aside from that I still have the question of- What?!! Is this like a "Bonnie and Clyde" type of thing? Is that how it's supposed to go and feel? If that's the case, doesn't anybody remember how that story ended? In case they haven't I would like to point out that Bonnie got flowers at the end of that roadtrip, but only because they matched her tombstone. Is that how we measure love these days? Geesh. Tough crowd.

I ask this question, because two guys that I used to work with have called me their "ride or die girl" on more than one occasion. I let it go the first couple of times, but now it's just kind of nagging at me, because it's confusing.

First off, I'm pretty sure that being someone's "ride or die girl" means that you aren't in fact some other guy's "ride or die girl" to. I may be wrong on this one, but I'm pretty confident in my logic at this point. I mean, it wasn't "Riding like Bonnie and Clyde..... and THAT OTHER GUY". Was it? I think not. So, how do you pick which one to go with?

On one hand dude could teach me how to land after jumping out of an airplane/ helicopter and smoke a side of beef, BUT, the could teach me how to survive prison and make distilled liquor out of toilet water. Decisions, decisions.

And if you're someone's "ride or die girl" doesn't that somehow imply that you guys are romantically involved? I feel like it's implied. And if that's how it is, then I'm not either for, well, either. I've never dated either of the two, we're just simply friends. Can it go like that? If not, then that opens up a whole other area that I don't want to get into, because I'm already confused enough as it is.

I don't know. All I do know is I would totally be Boyd Crowder's "ride or die girl" at the drop of a hat. And sorry guys, but neither of you are Boyd Crowder. I guess we'll call it even..... or I could just not tell either and still be both without having to actually make decisions and see where that gets me. I'm so confused.

I guess my only other question (since I'm no closer to answering my original one) is- We get to ride in a car/ truck not on a bicycle..... right? Because if one has a vehicle that I can ride in and the other has a bicycle that I have to steer, peddle and do things to, then I have instantly made my decision.

Final decision: I choose neither of those pricks. I'll just wait for the legit "ride or die" friend.
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Thursday, February 18, 2016

It's like a scene from a Mad Max movie out there.

(People are starting to get "cabin fever").


This weather can't make up it's mind and therefore everything is in utter chaos. People are psychotic, birds don't know which way to fly and the supermarket rarely has bread and alcohol stocked on their shelves. It's like the apocalypse has come. Remember the first scene in 28 Days Later? It's just like that.

Kidding..... mostly. Things are really confusing though, because the weather can't decide what's happening. Over the weekend I wore just a tshirt and my long sleeve flannel and had to take it off at some point because it got so warm. And then by Monday night the temperatures had plummeted so by early Tuesday morning we were greeted with snow and ice for the drive to work.

Fun times.

But don't worry, we're all staying eternally optimistic (that's a lie) and the good news is that as of yesterday (Wednesday- February 17) we have a pretty new furnace installed in our house. Ours has been screwy since the beginning of January (on and off) and finally the company we rent from okay-ed the furnace guy to put in a new one (yayyyyyy!!!!!!).

Despite all of this cold happening and sickness going around (and trust me when I say there's A LOT of that) we're all just kind of dealing with it and going through our normal routines. And wearing more layers than usual.

And watching Justified while snuggled up with our pups in the evenings (maybe that's just me).
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Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Somewhere between eighteen and eighty- seven.

(I may or may not be exaggerating more than slightly).


This past Saturday was my twenty- sixth birthday. 26. Veintiséis. No matter how many times or however many languages that I say it, it still sounds so strange to me.

I'm twenty- six. No longer classified as early twenties and certainly creeping up on that thirty mark much sooner than what I expected. Am I still considered mid- twenties or is that reserved for twenty- five year olds only?! I was twenty- five practically a cough ago, so come on guys, cut me some slack!!

The strangest thing about all of this is that I don't feel twenty- six. Or, I may feel twenty- six and I just haven't realized it yet. I'm not sure, because I've never been this old before. I wrote a letter to a friend of mine the day after my birthday and told him that it's funny. It's funny that I am eight years past eighteen, but still feel exactly like I did then (with slightly more back pain).

But in any event, age is a state of mind and luckily for me, I have and forever will be a little old lady at heart. And you might not see it now, but ask anyone that knows me or has known me for any amount of time and they will tell you that I've always had little ole lady tendencies (and not just because I like to keep hard candy and tissues in my purse).

And now here I am. Twenty- six and some odd days old. Somewhere between feeling eighteen and eighty- seven. I celebrated with Momma's chili and cake. And all was good (the chili, cake, and day in general).
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Thursday, February 11, 2016

It's like the short week was three extra days long.

(I thought it was Thursday almost all day yesterday).


But after a small (internal) hissy fit I accepted the fact that my three day weekend was going to allude me one extra day. It really did feel like Thursday all day yesterday though. And I was convinced that today was Friday, but to no avail. What do I have planned after work today?

Not putting on regular pants and coming to work for 87 hours. That's what. Because my twenty- sixth (how did I get this effing old?) birthday is Saturday and that's cause for celebration. And by celebration I mean- no pants, alcohol, and Netflix. Or, you know, how I usually celebrate (with the previously mentioned things) plus cake.

Ah, settling into old age is getting easier.
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Tuesday, February 9, 2016

I cried all of the tears.

(Screw you, Nicholas Sparks- again.).


Let's talk for just a minute about the movie that has ruined my complete effing life (since last night). The movie in question is- The Best of Me. And if you're one of those people that reads anything that I write on a regular basis (do people like you even exist?) then you're probably asking the question- Why do you continue to do this to yourself?!! Probably because I'm always snarky instead of lovestruck after I watch one of his films.

But I digress.

Because this time I'm not snarky about the story-line between the two main characters. In fact, this time around I actually really liked it. All of it. The part that screws with a little piece of my soul though is the story-line between Dawson (the main character) and the man that took him in when he was a homeless/ abused teen just looking for a way out of his family life- Tuck.

Tuck was a widower just living out his lonely life when Dawson happened into his barn one night to get out of the rain and sleep a little bit. He tries to play the tough ole guy that doesn't care, but you can literally see that fade in about three seconds. And they end up forming a father/ son bond that is..... just watch it for yourself. I mean, the whole damn movie is sad. It's just sad for everybody up in there (except Dawson's dad and brothers- I don't like them and they're assholes). But it's sad in a way that..... Oh hell, like I said, just watch it.

Not to mention all of the actors and the actual story-line itself was awesome. And there were parts that were nothing short of hilarious- Amanda: You've gotten pretty good. Dawson: Yeah, I been practicing a little. Amanda: ..... With who? Dawson: ..... With Tuck. Ha! Cracks me up. Sorry, you probably had to be there for that to make sense or for you to actually find it funny.

Watch it. Watch it now and cry all of the tears.
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Monday, February 8, 2016

You'll be happy to know.

(You definitely won't care).


Last night was Super Bowl 50 and you'll be happy to know (unless you're a Panthers fan) that the Broncos took that shit home 24 - 10. I don't really care either way, but I do have to say, I have a mighty large soft spot for good ole Peyton Manning (have you seen those Nationwide commercials?!). Momma and I went down to watch the game with Aunt Poot and Uncle Darrell (and to eat enough to kill a horse) and of course I had to make people gather for a photo. I look really exited, huh?! I didn't give a shit about the halftime show (I'm not a Beyonce fan- I know, I know, you didn't think people like me even existed), but the National Anthem in which Lady Gaga performed?! EPIC.


Remember on Friday when I said that the third season of Bates Motel was coming to Netflix on Saturday so I needed to prepare for said event? I was more excited for that than for the Super Bowl. And ..... I kind of watched the entire season. Like, the whole thing. And I have no regrets. Because that show is addicting and I demand Dylan and Emma to be together and I needed a show to fill my Sons of Anarchy obsession (even though I'm still all about some SOA)..... and ..... and ..... Oh, screw it. My name is Katie and I watched the entire third season of Bates Motel and ate a bag of Salt & Vinegar chips while doing it. NO REGRETS. Well, one regret. The fourth season doesn't come on cable until March 7th and I have to wait for that. Other than that though- NO REGRETS.

This week is a short one for me. I asked Dani if I could take this Friday off a couple of weeks ago and she okay'd forever ago. The whole reason why I took it off was so that Momma and I could go to lunch together (for my birthday that's actally on Saturday- I'm getting old as shit). But then Momma wanted to invite Aunt Poot, so that made lunch for three. And I was informed yesterday that Solae was out of school Friday and Monday, so she would be joining us as well. So now I guess it's lunch for four. I don't care either way, as long as I get tex-mex.

And now, I just wait for Friday.
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Friday, February 5, 2016

I'm not going to tell you that we had a mouse.

(And Tayder and I hunted him down..... mostly just me though).


I feel better today than I have in a week and a half.

Here it is Friday and I'm beyond ready for this weekend. Do I have amazing plans that I've been looking forward to all damn week? You bet your sweet ass I do.

Just kidding. I have "me" type of plans (i.e. sweatpants, Netflix, alcohol, randomness), but nothing that would actually qualify as "having plans." At least not to other people.

But I'm not other people, I'm me and I am very happy that it's Friday. This has been a yuck kind of week (this weather and my stomach issues can kick rocks together) and I'm ready to stay up late, sleep in (I say that like I still don't get up before 7:00 am even on my days off) and can I get some McDonald's breakfast over here?!!

If you can't tell, I'm all over the place right now. As I said earlier, I feel better than I have in a week and a half (stomach issues and no appetite- I blame this horrendous weather that is obviously going through menopause at the present time) and I just found out that Season 03 of Bates Motel comes on Netflix tomorrow (I NEED SUPPLIES TO PREPARE FOR THIS).

Also, I did my taxes this morning. And while taxes don't make me particularly giddy, the fact that they're done and I no longer have to deal with them or act as though I'm an adult about it anymore does.

When I received a message earlier (from Momma) asking me if I wanted/ needed anything in particular from the store I replied with: "Just maybe some Tropical Fruit (Dole if they have it) and some chips (Salt & Vinegar). And alcohol. SEASON 3 OF BATES MOTEL COMES ON NETFLIX TOMORROW AND I'M GOING TO NEED SUPPLIES TO PREPARE FOR THIS!!!!!"

That should tell you what my current mood for today is. TGIF. 
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Monday, February 1, 2016

Where in the hell was I when all of this happened?!!

(This weekend I had a realization).


January has already come and gone this new year and I'm sitting here like- ?????

To be honest, I don't really keep up with time all too well. My intentions are good, but I just never have the follow through. I feel like I'm not the only person that has this issue though. I feel like most people are either very structured people (i.e. they know everything down to the exact date) or they're kind of willy-nilly with it (i.e. me). It makes life much more interesting. Or at least to me, it does.

For instance, this past weekend Aunt Poot asked Momma and I to go with her to her youngest grand-kids (my cousin) birthday party. We had no problem with going, so come Saturday we went to her house and all rode together. Would you like to know what I realized that day at his party?

You see, little Sammy there was born January of the year I graduated high school. How old was Sammy on his birthday? Eight. Do you know what that means? That means that this May I will have been graduated from high school for EIGHT YEARS. And I had a mild panic attack. Because how am I this old?! How was that so long ago?! When in the hell did Solae get so tall?! All very valid questions that I felt needed answered immediately.

And then I chilled the eff out.

Because so what if I'm going to turn twenty-six in a few days (the 13th). I'm happy with life and I feel like I'm at a good point in mine (for the most part). I do what I want, when I want, with whomever I want (you just wait until James Spader gives me a call) and I'm surrounded by people that I love and care about. And when I actually do take those moments to realize what time it really is, I always find myself surrounded by my loved ones arriving somewhere between laughter and wine. 

And that's my comfy spot.
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