A Letter To My Grandmother

Bubby,

It has been 6 months since you passed away, and I honestly haven't accepted that you are gone. I still feel your presence everywhere, and so many things remind me of you. I just got back from a trip with Mom and Frayda, and I see you in them now more than ever. Especially in how close they are, and how much they cherish each other. James and Kim played Craps in the casino and each won a couple hundred dollars. I couldn't help but wonder if you were watching those dice. I'm sure I can speak for everyone when I say that not being able to pick up the phone and call you has been such an alien concept. The idea of your apartment sitting empty is unbelievable to me. However, with as much as I miss you, I also have a profound sense of relief on your behalf. I feel like you were waiting for this- and I like to picture you joining family and friends at last. Aunt Frayda had your photo albums put on disks so we could all have copies. I look at those pictures all the time and am so excited that we all have them.

In true Bess fashion, everyone despite being sad is living life. We are all looking out for each other, trying to play as hard as we work, and I feel certain we all wash our hands more than everyone else.

Love and miss you,

Kate

What? My dog doesn't think she owns the place.

Isabelle seems to think that me stacking her beds (most of which are MY pillows that she has commandered....) means that she should lay on top of all of them...

She is pretty cute though. That's why I let her have my pillows.

One Small Step For Man.....

I'm not sure if you all know this, but I started smoking cigarettes when I was a teenager. It was a decision that I always regretted- but once I started, there was really no turning back. Not because the nicotine had taken me hostage and I got all twitchy without a cigarette- that was never my biggest problem. My biggest problem was that I loved everything about smoking. I didn't even mind the gross parts like the way it made my clothes, car, and house smell. I loved sitting on a porch on a warm summer night and smoking with my friends. I loved smoking a cigarette after a big meal (who knows why that always makes people feel less full). I loved using it as a buffer when I was frustrated, upset, or mad (even though it was all placebo). I loved long road trips with good music and endless smokes. Smoking seems to have a way of enhancing a situation. It buffers a conversation. It brings strangers together.
That being said, I quit 6 weeks ago today, and I couldn't be more thrilled. Sure, I miss it and it hits me like a wall out of the blue, but there are a thousand reasons not to smoke, and really only one reason to smoke- I want to. It actually has been surprisingly less challenging than I expected to be out at bars or with my friends who all seem to smoke. I am so excited that I have enough self control to be successful that it's almost like everyday feels like a victory, and I wouldn't ever want to mess that up. Don't get me wrong, I don't get upset if someones cigarette smoke happens to blow in my general direction... it still smells so good to me.
Anyway, the point is that when I quit smoking, I picked up cycling, which is really what my story is about today. I have always LOVED riding my bike. When I was little, I rode practically everywhere. I still had my mountain bike from like middle school, and I decided if I proved to myself that I would stick with it, I would buy myself a nice bike. So, after a couple months of being consistent, I invested in a beautiful road bike that I know absolutely nothing about. I have tortured the poor souls at the bike shop with endless stupid questions, watched videos online, and am trying to acquire a completely new jargon. Yesterday, I had the bike fitting so that the dimensions were all perfectly matched for me- you know, seat height, handle bar adjustments, etc. I also had my cleats put on my new bike shoes. This is where the real victory comes into play. My bike pedals can be used with regular shoes, or you can flip them over and clip in with bike shoes. Now, the clips are on the bottom of the shoes and they literally lock into the pedal and you have to do a twisting motion with your ankle to pop them out of place. The guy at the store is saying that the number one problem is that people don't remember to unclip soon enough, panic, and end up falling over. I asked him if this was a common occurrence, and he was like, "Aw yeah, we've all done it". And I thought, great. I am the most accident prone person I know. I mean, as we speak I have three bruises on my legs that aren't related to any sort of recreational activity- more like I closed the car door on my own leg, etc. So I'm thinking I am in big trouble with these clips. Don't get me wrong- I'm already taking a chance with the bike all together, but I figure that I have good health insurance, always wear a helmet, and hope for the best. But the clips sound like a Kate accident waiting to happen. I couldn't just forget about them though because they really do make a huge difference when you are riding.
So I got home with the new shoes and clips today and decided to go out in the neighborhood and practice the clipping/un-clipping in motion. To my great surprise, I am really good at it! I can pop them in and out fairly easily, especially for a beginner I think, and they really do make it easier to pedal. I just have to remember to un-clip a few feet before stopping, but I think I can manage that.
The moral of this long story is that as I was riding back home, feeling like I'd really accomplished something, it occurred to me how long it has been since I learned how to do something new. I mean, I know you do new things fairly often, but I mean really finding something I am interested and having to learn a whole new skill. When you are little, it seems like that's all you ever do. It's like, I wanna play soccer, and then two weeks later it's ice skating, and then two more weeks it's painting, you get the idea. It seems like young minds are always eager to try new things and learn new skills- even if they are fleeting. It's hard to remember as you get older that there is a whole world of stuff and subcultures out there. Clubs and activities and enthusiasts just waiting for another person to catch on. It is so easy to get weighed down in a routine- and I haven't had a hobby in a really long time. I've just learned in the last month how important it is to have something you enjoy and can learn something new and work towards proficiency in.

So there you go everybody. That is the wisdom I have to share. If you don't have something, find something, and it will open up a whole new world of abilities you never knew you had.

Holy Joe Jackson.

In the wake of Michael Jackson's death there is so much to consider- but there is one issue that is really pissing me off. Not discounting it, lets put aside the fact that MJ may or may not have been a child molester.... I mean, we'll never know for sure what he was. What we do know is that he was a horribly tormented person who mutilated himself and was obviously uncomfortable in his own skin. We also know that he was abused mentally and physically by his father (and most likely sexually) for most of his childhood and that his Mother sat and watched as it happened without doing anything about it.

This being said, why in all that is holy are his kids being placed in their Grandmother's custody???? Their Grandmother has obviously proven that she can't stand up to Joe Jackson and he will torment those kids just like he tormented his own kids. I'm sure he use them as well to make a buck and smack them around if they try to resist. Out of this whole media frenzy, I can't believe more people aren't causing a fuss about that. I don't know. All I know is that just Joe Jackson's picture scares the bajesus out of me. There is obviously something dark and unpleasant about him and I wouldn't want to be court ordered to live with him. That's for sure.

This cracks me up.

Here is a fabulous montage of birds attacking people for your enjoyment. You would be surprised how hilarious watching geese chase people can be. Give it a whirl... it is sure to brighten your day!

Why "The Snuggie" Has Ruined My Life.

As you can see above, "The Snuggie" is a long blanket with sleeves. At first glance, it seems harmless enough. Kind of cozy even. But would you pay $25.00 for a sleeved blanket? (and ok, maybe the clip-on reading light that comes free with the purchase of two?) My first reaction was, 1. Who thinks up this crap? and, 2. No, I wouldn't pick up the phone and buy a blanket with sleeves. I have one better. I have a blanket, AND I have a sweatshirt. See how that works?

Well here's the dilemma. I was thinking the other day about how working is really just a huge inconvenience. I would really rather retire right now, and just do whatever I felt like for the rest of my life. I mean, that's the way we were supposed to live. Feel hungry? Go hunt some meat. Feel sleepy? Go take a nap in your cave. Catch some horrible disease? Die without any anti-biotics. Just kidding about that last part. In my caveman story, we have anti-biotics... and hospitals. But anyway, I digress. The point is I need to retire and I don't have any money. So, I was thinking that I either have to win the lottery, or invent something. That is when my anger really hit me. You see, The Snuggie is an international sensation. You know how I just asked who would want to buy a blanket with sleeves? BILLIONS of people. The thought that the person who invented this blanket is now a retired millionaire really ruins my life. I mean, they probably found the easiest, dumbest, most profitable invention. Now what am I going to do? I can't invent something complicated. I'm not that talented or creative. The blanket with sleeves thing was really my only shot.

Now, because of "The Snuggie", I have to do one of two things. Work forever. Or invent what I would like to call the "Snuggle" except mine is going to have a hood and feet.... Oh yeah. Watch out world, here I come.

Check This Out

Interesting perspective...

What The Hell?

Ok, so I don't watch the news often for a couple of reasons...First, it's not as entertaining as the stupid crap I watch, and second, I don't really have time. But for the last couple of days I have been hearing about this "swine flu" thing and I have to say that I am pissed.
I mean, I get it- world wide spread of a new strain of influenza that has apparently originated with pigs... I think I have the pandemic thing down. But what I don't understand is this- Why is everyone freaking the ____ out? I get that babies and elderly people can die from the flu. But isn't that something that we go through every winter? I keep hearing about the symptoms of this demonic new bug; sore throat, fever, muscle aches, goes away in a week. I DON'T UNDERSTAND. I even saw Dr. Oz from Oprah on ABC and he was supposed to answer all of our questions. I thought, oh thank G-d, it's Dr. Oz, a familiar face, he's never led me astray. His advice- use hand sanitizer and prepare to not be able to leave your homes. WHAT?
Here is the deal. All I want to know is whether or not I need to go stock pile food, buy a WWII gas mask, and prepare for mayhem or not. Either say that it is the flu and you might get the sniffles, or say to frickin panic and kiss your ass goodbye. I can't stand not being able to weed through the media propaganda and it is exhausting. I would rather sit here and watch Family Guy- with or without my gas mask.

My favorite quote from this whole shenanigan- the head of the Israeli health department has declared that they will call it "Mexican Flu" instead of "Swine Flu" because the Swine Flu wouldn't be kosher. Seriously? Are they going to pretend that they didn't get infected by a virus that originated from a filthy animal? cracks me up. Rename it and it'll be better. In that case, I declare we call it, "Doesn't leave Mexico flu".

Evolution of Dance

It's funny to think of songs over the years and all of the funny dances that are attached to them...

Why I can't keep junk food in the house....

What kind of self control do you have? It is an interesting thing to reflect on....

By the way... the end of this clip has something to do with Jesus- if you are into that sort of thing, then mazel tov. If not, the clip is over at around 5 mins and you can skip the translation from marshmallows to Adam and Eve.

This Is Really Sweet

This is a clip from the show, "Britain's got talent"- the UK version of American Idol. Check out this video if you haven't heard about this yet...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

The link is being weird so you'll have to copy and paste it... sorry

Come On People!

We're hiring for a position at work and I have been getting resumes all day ( I know the e needs a little thingy, but I don't know where the key is on my computer, so don't judge me). My first observation was how good it feels to be on the interviewer end, rather than the person being interviewed. It's actually quite exciting to be interviewing. Like playing a slot machine... never sure what you're gonna get. It's going to be hard to fill too, because unless it's the jackpot, the person will never live up to the person in the position before them *tear*. But people have to move on.
So, I am getting in these resumes and I am telling you, I am appalled. I mean, I just finished job hunting and all that crap last year, and yeah, it's a pain in the ass. Having to write a cover letter and adjust your resume and all that is not something that anyone enjoys. However, it is a necessary evil. I got emails today that just listed jobs on the email, no heading, no "sincerely" so and so. Just like, here's my work history. Period. No fricken name sometimes!
I am wondering when people stopped showing respect to people in writing. I still come from the background that when writing business related correspondence, you use the proper form. You use Mr. and Ms., and you close a letter with something respectable. I'm just disgusted. I totally understand if you didn't get an education and you just don't know these things. That is one thing. It is a whole other thing to be a person who holds a degree higher than high school and not know how to write a resume and cover letter. Even if you never learned, LOOK IT UP! I mean, come on. I know these are desperate times for many people but it doesn't mean that chivalry has to be thrown right out the window. It's like showing up for an interview in sweatpants. It shows no professionalism or motivation. I can't but help judging capability by the way a person presents themselves. Anyway, I just felt like venting. Things used to be respectable for crying out loud.

Put Music Stores On The Endangered List

I was downtown catching a movie yesterday and I decided to pop into the Virgin Mega store to see if there were any cheap dvds top buy. When I got down there, I saw their "going out of business" signs everywhere. For whatever reason, this really crushed me. Granted, there are still some really authentic record stores that are still left in Denver, like Wax Trax and Twist and Shout. But, it still upset me to see this huge music store going out of business. It just really bothers me to think about how generations below me will never know what it is like to go into a music store and speak with some pierced punk rocker about what the latest great band is. It isn't the death of a business, but the impending doom of an entire music culture. That is what really baffles me. However, I get that it is cheaper and easier to get everything online. I mean, for someone who feels so sad about this, I haven't bought a CD in a music store in years. So, I too am part of the problem. But it still bothers me none the less.

On a lighter note, I was the COOLEST person in the grocery store yesterday. So, I went to the store wearing my ratty, "CBGB" sweatshirt (which is a club that used to be open in New York City that most great bands either got their start or played there at one point). I was standing in line at the check out counter and there were like 10 people behind me. The guy directly behind me was like, "nice sweatshirt!" and struck up a conversation about CBGBs with me. Then the cashier joined in the discussion and we were talking about music and this club. Then the cashier got to the bottle of balsamic vinegar that I was buying and of course it didn't have a price on it. So she has to do a price check, and I was like, I am so sorry to hold all of you up. We continued our talk about how awesome my sweatshirt was for what seemed like 10 minutes until the old man with the balsamic finally came back. He said to the cashier, "You're not going to believe this, but this balsamic is 15 dollars!!!!" and the cashier was like, "Oh my gosh are you serious???" and then she looked at me and I was like, "Yeah, it's imported from Modena, Italy, they gotta charge you something for that...." She looked at me all baffled and was like, "so you still want to buy it?" and I was like, "I saw how much it was when I pulled it off the shelf... I just forgot the exact price. I use this with a lot of food and the cheap stuff doesn't taste nearly as good."
Then, the guy behind me was like, "Wow. A cool punk rocker chick who buys imported balsamic....that's so cool". The lady finished ringing me up, I paid, and then she did this....subtly nodding her head, she looked and me and said very softly, "Stay cool." and I just thought to myself, wow, I am like the rock star of the grocery store right now because of my ratty sweatshirt and my ridiculously expensive balsamic vinegar. It was awesome.

The Case Of The Chicken Wings

Anyone who knows me well can agree that I can be a little bit random at times... in many different areas. So when I presented my latest mystery to my friends, I prefaced it by saying, "OK, this is a weird, 'Kate' thing" and they all went, "Oh jeez, here we go." Although, I think they are were all secretly excited to hear my latest quandary.
It all started about a week ago in the middle of the night. Don't ask me why, but for whatever reason, I was roused from my slumber at around 2AM with a question about chicken wings. I actually woke up and thought this, exactly, "Why are chicken drum sticks so much bigger than those little tiny drum sticks when you are eating chicken wings? Oh my G-d what the hell am I eating? And why have I never thought of this? if you actually made a chicken drum stick into a fried buffalo chicken wing it would be about 3 or 4 times the size of the ones we eat!!! and why isn't anyone else wondering this same thing??" So, I jump awake, have this bizarre thought, and proceed to fall back into a blissful, undisturbed slumber.
However, in the morning I actually remember this question and review it in my mind to make sure there isn't an obvious answer that I am missing. I decide that it is a legitimate question and set out on a quest to find some answers. Keep in mind that I have never cooked chicken wings myself- I am totally ignorant to all things chicken wings except that I eat them now and then.

The first victims are some guys that I go to play poker with one night. I ask them my question of why are the drumsticks of chicken wings so much smaller than normal chicken drumsticks. The guys all look perplexed, and a little startled (as I was) to realize that there really is a concerning size difference. One of the guys says he knows why. Because they are made from chickens that are younger- that chickens are slaughtered at all different ages. The dude tells me that I am eating baby chickens. I'm a little appalled, but don't get too worked up because I am not so sure I believe him. First of all, he was a young guy named "Bob". You never meet a young guy named Bob. It always comes from Robert, and these days young dudes go by Rob, ya know? so strike one. Second, I don't know Bob. How do I know if he is wise in the ways of chicken? So, two strikes equals limited credibility.

Next day, some friends and I are at a bar and I ask the same question. Again, I get baffled looks all around. I can't believe that no one knows the answer and no one has thought about this. So another friend says that he once read a recipe for chicken wings and that it told him to take the actual wing and push the meat up to make it into a "drumstick" looking type thing. I don't remember the exact feeling involved, but basically, I didn't believe him. Plus, it seemed like a physiological impossibility, so there went that theory.

Finally, I went with my friend to her Mom's house for dinner and I introduced my dilemma. My friend explains that chicken drumsticks aren't as large as I think they are in my mind, and that the wing drum sticks and regular drumsticks are the same size. While she is telling the story, she is obviously taking too much time to explain her theory which indicates only one thing- she's making it up. So I discredit her immediately.

So with no answers I truck on, undeterred and determined to find an answer. So, I do what any person does these days. I Google it. But I still don't find the answer. Then, I look at images of raw chicken wings and I found my answer, which I will explain to you good people. I now present to you exhibit A:

If you look at the anatomy of a chicken wing- and we're talking a normal size, non-baby chicken wing, there are three sections. There is the little pointy tip that no one eats, so imagine that gone. Now, that just leaves the two other sections, and if you separate those, you have your chicken wings! The top half is rounded on the top and it resembles a chicken drumstick. But it's not a chicken drumstick! it is merely a top of a wing masquerading as a drumstick. And of course there is the other section which is the "wing" looking part of the wing. Mystery solved. It really makes you wonder after asking all of these people and no one knows-how can so many of us eat stuff that we don't know what it is or where it came from? Anyway, I feel like Nancy Drew. If this were a Nancy Drew novel it would be entitled, "Nancy Drew and the case of the shrinking drumstick".

Case Closed.

A Very Important Announcement!

I took little miss Isabelle to the vet yesterday and she went from 10.7 pounds to 8.7 pounds! She lost 1/5th of her body weight in 9 months!
The moral of this story is this- all of you people out there that ridiculed my dog for being a little heavy, this is the official announcement. She is no longer fat. A medical professional says so. So nicknames previously used like, "the little sausage", "line backer", "little pig", etc are no longer accurate or appropriate. We are working on her infomercial... if only she had some before and after pants...

Nothin' To Say

So I haven't written in forever because I really don't have anything to say. I keep thinking about it and I just can't come up with anything mildly entertaining to post on this page. However, everyone I know has been struck down by this ridiculous bronchitis (including myself). I am home coughing up a lung and I came across this on someecards.com- which, by the way, is the most entertaining website. I highly suggest sending someone something from there. They're great. Anyway, this card sums up everyone's sentiment lately, so I thought I would share...

Vacation

Sorry it has been a while since I have written! I have been on a long-awaited vacation! It was a great trip and really relaxing. One of my roommates from Italy and I met in Florida and then we rented a car and drove to Atlanta. I was born there and have no memory of it because we moved when I was a baby. I have always wanted to see the town where I was born, so we went on an incredible journey to find it. I got the address from my Mom, and Michelle and I went to the house "where I was grown," as we called it. Sure enough, I guess it remains unchanged, even has a big Magnolia tree out front still. Here is the picture!

Before we drove back, we found the most famous BBQ place we could in Atlanta and had ribs- which were DELICIOUS! Then we drove back to Ft. Lauderdale and our other roommate from Italy flew in and we spent the rest of the week hanging out on the beach. On the way back from Atlanta, we stopped and got boiled peanuts, which we were both horribly disappointed in and now we are both wondering if we are going to come down with some disease from the nasty water this old man fished them out of. But oh well....not everything can be delicious I guess. Once we got back to Florida, the weather was pretty crummy, but we got about a day and a half of good sunshine in. The first day we were on the beach, a sky writer drew a big smiley face in the sky! we were so excited about this that we kept watching as he spelled out some words. First there was a "J", and then an "E", and an "S". Michelle and I are sitting there going, "oh what if it is for some girl named Jess? how cool!" And then came a "U"..... and a final "S"... and we were both like, "Oh Jesus." Me being Jewish and her being practically an Atheist, we were not impressed. The dude spelled out, "Jesus Loves U" in the sky.... And this whole time I thought Florida was all Jews....

Anyway, it was a great trip full of girl fun. We all painted our toes pink because we figured you must have pink toes to be on the beach. It was great spending time with them, and being in a tropical climate with palm trees.

Here's An Idea

So I went to see Brad Pitt's new movie, "The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button" today. During the movie I had an idea. As you can see from the previews, Brad Pitt starts out really old and then gets younger as years go by. Honestly, I got a little impatient during the parts where he was old- I wanted him to transform back to his younger self. Don't get me wrong, I am not one of these Brad Pitt fanatics that thinks he is the be all and end all of men. I do however think that he is fun to look at. This is when I decided that I think that as a matter of national security, funds set aside for other things should be funneled into finding a way to keep Brad Pitt from aging. Brad is really a symbol for the desires of the American people and I think that as he ages and gets wrinkly, things are really going to get hopeless. Just seeing him with the age spots and all droopy really made things look grim. So we need to get started preserving him before it gets too late... Someone get NASA on the phone. If anyone could do it, it would be the guys at NASA.