Wednesday, July 27, 2016

It's a bird. It's a plane. NO!! It's Sammy D.

(Yes, it's Sammy D - strange visitor from another planet who came to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men).


Hey that's me!! Kidding. That's not really me. But it is my little cousin. See how cute he is? And tall. Very tall. He's only eight for crying out loud!! Eight and ornery as the day is long.

I've just recently started getting to see Sammy on a (semi)regular basis. His dad is my cousin (whom I don't even talk to), but him and Sammy's mother are divorced and since my aunt (his grandma) gets to babysit him a couple of times a week, we get to see him.

Remember when I mentioned him on his birthday?! Same little guy. But I swear he's grown a foot since then.

He's as lovable as they come. Seriously, Momma and I went over to visit Aunt Poot and Uncle Darrell and he just so happened to be there (you know, getting babysat over his summer break) and he walked right over to me, jumped on my lap, and hugged me until I almost couldn't breathe. Almost.

Then he insisted on showing me how he wanted his hair done (fire hydrant red) and he sat there on his Ipad looking stuff up and we just talked. It's amazing how much I have in common with him (mostly, our food palate- only I think his might be a bit more refined than mine). And then his mom came and picked him up and he made sure to give out hugs galore and "I love yous" for the whole crowd. And by crowd, I mean me, Momma, Aunt Poot and Uncle Darrell.

I don't even flinch or get an eye twitch when he hugs me (and yes, that is my usual reaction to children). He's getting far too big, far too quickly, but you know what? I'm glad I get to see it, because it really is an amazing thing to experience. I may not want my own kids (for real, I don't want any of my own EVER so quit asking), but it certainly is amazing to watch the ones I love grow from these teeny tiny little blobs of spit and cries into the awesome little people that they are.

And now if you'll excuse me, I have to go tuck my sentimental self back in. WHERE SHE BELONGS.

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

How in the f*ck is it only Tuesday?!

(Are we being serious right now?!).


Here it is Tuesday and the only thing I have to show for it is the fact that I'm dragging my ass further into this week. What happened? It seems like it was just Friday night and the next thing you know my alarm was going off at 4:45 am Monday morning for work. No, this isn't a trick, I really do get up at 4:45 am for work. I know, I accept your condolences.

I think people are trying to trick me. How? Because I'm pretty sure that it's at least Thursday evening and they're just not telling me. NOT FUNNY YOU GUYS. I'm kind of waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out from behind one of our filing cabinets and be all- "Just kidding, Katie! Oh, we got you good!! Now go home and chill for the next fifteen days." (I don't know why fifteen, but it sounded really good in my head). How old did I just make myself sound with that whole Ashton Kutcher/ Punk'd reference? You know what, don't answer that. It'll probably just piss me off.

And because I'm having one of those kind of want to nap/ kind of want to cook a twelve course meal days, I've been a bit more sarcastic than usual. I know, I didn't think it was possible either. But alas, here we are. And here we shall remain until it's time to blow this popsicle stand.

At least it's only 75° out..... and raining.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

When your friend is a sarcastic asshole..... and you kind of love it.

(You ever have a friend that just accepts your crudeness?).

I don't know about you guys, but I have some of the best friends that a girl could ever ask for. They're funny, smart, kind, and a couple of us have been through far more than regular people usually do. I'm not sure what it is, but when it comes to my friendships, I feel like they're just far superior to all others. I know that most people feel like that, but I truly believe it.

And I think this about all of my friends. Whether we have been friends since the sandbox, worked together at some point, or just so happen to be new friends. It's easy for me to say this, because I don't have many people in my life that I considered true friends. Acquaintances, yes. Friends, no.

Every now and then though, no matter how much you love your friend or how long you guys have known each other, you find yourself kind of censoring yourself. Whether it's because they don't use the language that you use, or it's because they believe something that you don't, you kind of just sit there nodding along and not saying exactly what you're thinking, because you want to spare their feelings.

But then, oh, you find that select friend (or friends) that you're just real with 24/7, 100% of the time. And you're not sure why, but you are, and it's actually a little bit on the cathartic side. You have no filter, you say whatever it is that you're thinking right when you think it, and together y'all talk about some of the most random shit that either of you could ever think of.

Nothing's off limits.

And you come to realize that you guys should have met each other far sooner, and things would probably be a lot different than they are right now. Mostly because the other one would've been there to call the second out on being such a ditz when it came to relationships and life choices. And vice versa. Don't think for a second that the other one would get off the hook, because that shit just wouldn't go down like that.

I have a couple of few friends like that. One old, one older, and one on the relatively new side. I don't know exactly what it is about these three individuals that makes me want to just tell them exactly what's happening, but they do and I do.

Whether our conversations are about family or friends, movies, the levels on which our crudeness is based, work days, or what our favorite song happens to be at that moment, it's never not entertaining. And for someone to still want to be my friend at the levels that my sass and crudeness can get, is really saying something about their character. I don't know what, maybe they're crazy too, but it definitely says it. I talk to them about any and every thing and I think that they feel the same way when they need/want to talk to me. Just no judgment, fear, or persecution.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

I can't wait to complain about how cold it is..... again.

(This summer is being a little bitch and I am not a fan. I always liked fall/winter better anyways).


(The above picture is from a blog post written by Samantha Irby over at Bitches Gotta Eat. I had to share it, because it reflects my sentiments perfectly.).

Do y'all remember when I was talking about winter sticking around for an unusual amount of time this year, and how everybody was going crazy from cabin fever, because going out was like dipping your balls (whether you have physical or metaphorical ones) in the same water that took Jack Dawson? We were all in denial and still doing events for warm weather, even though we were cold as shit. Remember all of that? Well, good news, that is no longer the case.

In fact, the weather changed around overnight and I mean that 100%. On a Thursday night it was 27° and the following Friday it got up to 89°. And that's not even an over-exaggeration. It literally went from freezing into Mad Max for an entirely different reason. As in, now it's so hot and dry it feels like a desert wasteland. Or something like that.

The humidity is at an all time high, and it's currently 93° outside. And it's 11:31 am. Yeah, it's already 93° this early in the day. And let's not even talk about the humidity and heat index. Ugh. And it's supposed to be this temp/humidity all week and possibly for the rest of my life, because global warming and shit.

Come on, mother nature, with this election coming up, we have enough to worry about and fear besides the temperature. Have a little sympathy over here. Whatever happened to predictability of seasons? Being predictable isn't all that bad, you know. Don't listen to anyone who says otherwise at this instant. Just let me know, I know a couple of people that will fight them over it.

Y'all should see my hair. That is probably the most hilarious part out of everything. You remember that scene in the Lion King where Simba jumps in the water and then shakes out and his hair is bigger than anything naturally is in the jungle? Yeah, think that plus Weird Al and you may be on the right track to understanding whatever this is on top of my head. I've been trying to tame it with frizz spray, hair dryers, straighteners, hairspray, and anything else I can get my grubby little paws on, and so far, I look only mildly scary.

So..... win?

Monday, July 18, 2016

I could've stayed in bed today. In bed's where I belong.

(It's raining like no other outside).


Have you ever had one of those days where as soon as you wake up your brain just immediately starts running 100 mph? And not even necessarily about important things, but about random shit and things that you don't even need to worry about? Happened to me this morning.

This past weekend was pretty low-key (which I'm more than good with). Thursday Aunt Poot and Solae came over for dinner, and Friday Momma and I went with them out for supper. We went to a place called "Mug-n-Bun". The food was really good, but it was a little expensive. And by little, I mean, holy hell is their food cased in gold or something? For real.

I think the most "strenuous" thing that I did over the weekend was clean the house and give Tayder a bath (and he was not happy about it). The rest of the time was spent just hanging out and watching Criminal Minds (and now my paranoia is at a all time high).

Dani and them are officially on their vacation, which means I'm going to have the office all to myself this week. (I turned the radio station off of npr and onto the country music station first thing this morning). I don't mind, I just do all of my work and go with the flow. I'll be having a few days off this coming September. Momma has to have surgery on her eyes, so I'm going to take a couple of days off for that. I know, we know how to party on vacation. But, I want to be there when she has the surgery and the next day for her recovery time.

Now if y'all will excuse me, I have some random thoughts to drive myself crazy with.

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

For the Record- Jennifer Aniston.

(She said exactly what she meant. And you just have to love that).


Have y'all read the Huffington Post article that Jennifer Aniston contributed (i.e wrote the whole damn thing)? If not, you are seriously missing out. That lady finally got fed up with the pregnancy/ going to be forever alone (even though she's married- and seems very happy with it) rumors about her and spoke out. I mean, who wouldn't be tired of it at this point? It's been over a decade (2005 was a rough year- BUT it was also eleven damn years ago, so maybe just move on).

She wrote about how someday she might be a mother, but whether she is or isn't, she doesn't feel incomplete or unhappy with her life. She knows that she isn't defined by her ability to reproduce or keep a man. She is aware that people in this day and age still feel like every woman should have the idea of marriage and motherhood in her head constantly, but she also knows what she wants and that whatever that is, that's all that matters, because it is her life. It's her decision and it's her choice. And she wants people to get that.

As a twenty-six year old woman who happens to be single and has never wanted to be a mother (except maybe a dog mom- Hi Tayder!), I understand where she's coming from. No, I don't know what it's like for someone to follow me around constantly and scrutinize my every move, but I understand how she feels when people assume and then are baffled when their idea of your life doesn't match their own. My favorite?

Random person: "So, when are you having a baby?" Me: "I'm not, I've never wanted to have a baby. Or be married" Random person: ".......What? Why wouldn't you want to be a mother? It's the greatest blessing there is. And every girl wants to be married to the guy she loves." Me: "Well, no, not every girl wants that. I've never wanted to have my own babies; and as far as the guy goes, I can be with someone and faithful to only them, and not have to marry them." Random person: "But..... that's what girls want. What's wrong with you?" Me: "I would think so many things, but nothing when it comes to this." Random person: "Don't worry, you'll change your mind and want it someday." Me: "Clearly, you don't know me at all."

So, yeah, I completely understand where she's coming from on that front. She says it far better than I ever could, read below for her article.

[[ Let me start by saying that addressing gossip is something I have never done.  I don’t like to give energy to the business of lies, but I wanted to participate in a larger conversation that has already begun and needs to continue. Since I’m not on social media, I decided to put my thoughts here in writing.

For the record, I am not pregnant. What I am is fed up. I’m fed up with the sport-like scrutiny and body shaming that occurs daily under the guise of “journalism,” the “First Amendment” and “celebrity news.”

Every day my husband and I are harassed by dozens of aggressive photographers staked outside our home who will go to shocking lengths to obtain any kind of photo, even if it means endangering us or the unlucky pedestrians who happen to be nearby. But setting aside the public safety aspect, I want to focus on the bigger picture of what this insane tabloid ritual represents to all of us.
If I am some kind of symbol to some people out there, then clearly I am an example of the lens through which we, as a society, view our mothers, daughters, sisters, wives, female friends and colleagues. The objectification and scrutiny we put women through is absurd and disturbing. The way I am portrayed by the media is simply a reflection of how we see and portray women in general, measured against some warped standard of beauty. Sometimes cultural standards just need a different perspective so we can see them for what they really are — a collective acceptance... a subconscious agreement. We are in charge of our agreement. Little girls everywhere are absorbing our agreement, passive or otherwise. And it begins early. The message that girls are not pretty unless they’re incredibly thin, that they’re not worthy of our attention unless they look like a supermodel or an actress on the cover of a magazine is something we’re all willingly buying into. This conditioning is something girls then carry into womanhood. We use celebrity “news” to perpetuate this dehumanizing view of females, focused solely on one’s physical appearance, which tabloids turn into a sporting event of speculation. Is she pregnant? Is she eating too much? Has she let herself go? Is her marriage on the rocks because the camera detects some physical “imperfection”?
"The objectification and scrutiny we put women through is absurd and disturbing."
I used to tell myself that tabloids were like comic books, not to be taken seriously, just a soap opera for people to follow when they need a distraction. But I really can’t tell myself that anymore because the reality is the stalking and objectification I’ve experienced first-hand, going on decades now, reflects the warped way we calculate a woman’s worth.

This past month in particular has illuminated for me how much we define a woman’s value based on her marital and maternal status. The sheer amount of resources being spent right now by press trying to simply uncover whether or not I am pregnant (for the bajillionth time... but who’s counting) points to the perpetuation of this notion that women are somehow incomplete, unsuccessful, or unhappy if they’re not married with children. In this last boring news cycle about my personal life there have been mass shootings, wildfires, major decisions by the Supreme Court, an upcoming election, and any number of more newsworthy issues that “journalists” could dedicate their resources towards.

Here’s where I come out on this topic: we are complete with or without a mate, with or without a child. We get to decide for ourselves what is beautiful when it comes to our bodies. That decision is ours and ours alone. Let’s make that decision for ourselves and for the young women in this world who look to us as examples. Let’s make that decision consciously, outside of the tabloid noise. We don’t need to be married or mothers to be complete. We get to determine our own “happily ever after” for ourselves.
"We are complete with or without a mate, with or without a child. We get to decide for ourselves what is beautiful when it comes to our bodies."
I have grown tired of being part of this narrative. Yes, I may become a mother some day, and since I’m laying it all out there, if I ever do, I will be the first to let you know. But I’m not in pursuit of motherhood because I feel incomplete in some way, as our celebrity news culture would lead us all to believe. I resent being made to feel “less than” because my body is changing and/or I had a burger for lunch and was photographed from a weird angle and therefore deemed one of two things: “pregnant” or “fat.” Not to mention the painful awkwardness that comes with being congratulated by friends, coworkers and strangers alike on one’s fictional pregnancy (often a dozen times in a single day).

From years of experience, I’ve learned tabloid practices, however dangerous, will not change, at least not any time soon. What can change is our awareness and reaction to the toxic messages buried within these seemingly harmless stories served up as truth and shaping our ideas of who we are. We get to decide how much we buy into what’s being served up, and maybe some day the tabloids will be forced to see the world through a different, more humanized lens because consumers have just stopped buying the bullshit. -Jennifer Aniston ]]

And that ladies and gentleman, is how that shit is handled.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

What in the hell is a Pokeyball?!

(Great. I'm nine all over again.).


Danielle and I just had the most ridiculous conversation ever. Ok, it was pretty tame for us, but still, damn it man. Have y'all heard of this new thing called- PokémonGo? I'm sure you have, because even if you're like me, you can't not see people posting memes and FB status updates about it.

(Side note: Whatever happened to FB just being for ways to randomly look at the hot dude that you never legit talked to until you got drunk that one time and to see if that bitch you used to work with got arrested again?).

The point is, it's everywhere. I haven't seen people this excited since they found out there are ways to break into their significant others Iphone and there's even an app for it. Did you just look that up? Seriously, is there and app for that or did I just come up with the next great idea for crazy bitches? We'll get back to that later. First things first.

Danielle: Is that how you catch a Pokémon? You throw a Pokeyball at it?
Katie: **blank stare**
Danielle: WHAT?!
Katie: How in the f*ck would I know that?
Danielle: I don't know. I just figured you would know.
Katie: WHY?! WHY WOULD I KNOW THAT?!
Danielle: I DON'T KNOW. Because I didn't so I figured you did.
Katie: The only thing I know about Pokémon is that the boys in fourth grade had a bunch of them on cards and got really pissed off when you accidentally spilled your Gatorade on them.
Danielle: Really, Katie?!
Katie: Fine. It was a Bug Juice, BUT STILL.
Danielle: We're old as shit.
Katie: Speak for yourself.

Just so y'all know, the boy that I accidentally spilled the bug juice on tried to make me eat dirt at recess in retaliation for his cards being wet. He didn't succeed, but he tried. Ass.

And that my friends, is how this Tuesday is going. All 106 degrees of it.

Monday, July 11, 2016

Yellow Fever that just so happens to be Pink.

(I'll recap. And spout randomness. It's your choice to stay or not).

Do you ever feel like you've truly missed your calling?

This past weekend was very interesting. It was full of fun, and laughter, and random text messages (or, FB messages), and now I know what my true calling is. And what it is, is that I should've been a stay at home dog-mom. WHAT?! Did you think that I was going to get all philosophical on you? Calm down, I'm not trying to get all heavy, I'm just trying to tell you that if they wanted to tag on two or three more days onto my weekend, I would let them. And probably love them forever and ever.






































The interesting all started on Friday when I accidentally tagged a random FB friend of mine (that I may or may not have had a crush on when I was like, eleven..... and worked with his mom and she told on me, thanks Ang) in a picture of me and my friend Shelley's little boy. I had no idea how I did it, and especially had no clue in how to undo it. So, I sent him a message, and then had to send him an additional one, because I figured out how to un-tag him. And all of that is only interesting, because it led to a two days conversation of the most random shit that you could ever think of.

And then I did a crapton of yard work. BUT it all got done, so I'm good with it. Shit..... I still have to plant those tomato plants that Dani gave me. Oops.

Side note: On July 6th my Grammy had been gone for four years. It still doesn't feel real. We set off a lantern for her, like we have for the past four years, and watched it until it floated out of our eyesight. We even called Uncle Robbie, Aunt Winnie, and Shantel and told them to look out and up, and they seen it float by too. Right over their house, it was great. I love you, Grammy, and miss you everyday. Xoxo.

Momma and I had a couple of errands to run Saturday, but we spent the majority of time down at Aunt Poot's..... drinking. Yes, judge us if you must, but no regrets from over here. And when I say "we" all drank, I do mean we ALL drank. (We were having a drink called "yellow fever", but since we make it with strawberry lemonade instead of just regular, it's pink, so it's out pink yellow fever. Or, something like that). I drank so much that I actually held a baby. I know, crazy.

But once we got home (no worries, we literally live around the corner within walking distance of each other), Momma napped (she's had a rough head cold for about four days), and I decided to make chicken stir-fry like I was Bobby Flay or some shit. It worked out in the end though, because we ate it and Aunt Poot came down and got her and Uncle Darrell some, and there was plenty (and some leftovers) to go around. Plus, I had to send a picture of the process of me cooking the stir-fry to a friend, because I felt that other people should be impressed at my "mad cooking skills". Man, I got jokes.

OH! Have y'all seen the movie "London Has Fallen" yet?! If not, I highly recommend it. If Mike Banning can't protect you, you're just outright screwed. Momma and I started watching it Friday night, but let's be honest, between the late time we started, and the allergy meds I had to take (she has to take meds every night), we didn't get to pay that much attention. SO we legit watched it yesterday. It was fantastic.

All in all, I have to say, this was a pretty great weekend. No fussing, fighting, or arguing. It was just everyone having fun and going from there. If everyday could be like that, we'd be good to go. The Boogie is coming up this week, Uncle Darrell leaves Thursday, and Ash and Val are heading out Friday. Momma and I usually go out to dinner with Aunt Poot and Solae when they head out, but Aunt Poot hasn't mentioned it this year (that I know of), so I don't know what's happening. In all fairness though, I'm usually the last to know.

I go to the "lady doc" this coming Wednesday, wish me luck.

Friday, July 1, 2016

It's already July and I'm wondering where the time has gone.

(The seventh month).


I have a three day weekend coming up after today (keep your fingers crossed for me that I can blow this popsicle stand asap). The reason for this three day weekend is because the company I work for is closed on government holidays. In other words, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Memorial, and Independence Day. There may be more that we're closed, but I can't think of any at the moment.

And every single Independence Day, I'm thankful for having the freedom that is provided to me. Gratitude can not even begin to express my love and appreciation of this country. And I thank each and every single man and woman that has made that possible for me.

When I was a kid growing up, Independence Day always meant grilled food, water, fun, fireworks, popsicles, and a million little things that made memories. Some of my favorite being when Momma took Bubba and I out on the evening before to buy fireworks one year and a giant thunderstorm came through and rocked our entire house. I know that sounds like a crazy "fun" memory to have, but I assume you would have had to be there to understand the humor in it. And, the summer my cousin Shantel and I spent in Florida with our Grammy and Aunt..... and a couple boys. Please, we were like thirteen or fourteen and it was the first time that a boy held my hand while watching fireworks. ON THE BEACH. It was practically a Mandy Moore movie up in there.

But, about seven years ago, all of that changed. I no longer think of all the great memories first. The first thought I always have, is Amy. And sure, it has become a little easier as the years have passed, but it hasn't been the same since 2009. That year and for the first couple after that, I didn't even want to go out of the house, let alone "celebrate" anything. I've come to realize that she wouldn't want me to do that, and on some level it might even be silly, but like I said, it's a little easier now. Sure, I would prefer her to be here with us, raising her little boy, and laughing from dusk until dawn, but unfortunately, that's not a option for any of us. No matter how much we wish it was.

So, I have decided to try and do Independence Day like Amy would want me, and all of the people whose lives she touched, to do. I am going to remember her and continue to love my dear friend that is no longer with us, but I'm going to do it with a smile on my face and continue on. I'm sure that she will forever be my first thought every single year when Independence Day (the day she passed) or April 19th (her birthday) approaches, but I'm going to remember her the way she lived, not the way she passed. I'll never forget that day, lord knows I have tried, and I can feel her shaking her head at me. She would want all of us to celebrate her life and to be happy instead of sad on days like these. She was an amazing person like that. I'm going to try, I truly am. And to that I say, I love you Amy Dean, I always will. You're a lovely friend and a carefree spirit that could inspire. I'll be sure to light a sparkler or two for you. 

"Laugh your heart out, dance in the rain, cherish the memories, ignore the pain, love and learn, forgive and forget, because remember, you only have one life to live."