London, England / Stansted Airport
Found the girls. Off to Berlin by plane! More to come. SO SO TIRED!!!
Monthly Archives: October 2003
Hello good chap!
London, England / London-Heathrow Airport
I am in London waiting for the girls. I don’t know how long to wait or xactly where. We really planned this well. 🙂 I also can’t get into my e-mail so i’ll have to use hotmail. but post comments because that will be the easiest.
Dave! They upgraded me and treated me like a queen! Give my love to your uncle and his partner. Skippy was my flight attendant and he was amazingly nice and generous. More later.
Down with Dallas
Oakland, California
I have just returned from Atlanta and am preparing to fly out to London tomorrow. As Max and I were returning from Maine yesterday and bemoaning the fact we had to fly through Cincinnati, he pointed out to me that this was just the beginning of airports for me. So I thought about this.
In three days I will have hit 10 airports.
Sunday: Portland to Cincinnati to Atlanta
Monday: Atlanta to Dallas/Ft. Worth to Oakland
Tuesday: San Fran to Chicago to London/Heathrow then over to London/Stansted to Berlin/Schonefeld
If we include the last week and the count each trip to an airport and not just once for individual airports then it would be a total of 15 airports. Argh.
Needless to say, I hate airports and the only comforting thing is that I still hold Dallas/Ft. Worth as my LEAST favorite airport of all time. And that’s even on days when there isn’t a thunderstorm to keep you on the runway for four hours.
The worst part about all this? News that The Concorde is being decommissioned or retired or whatever was disheartening because I had big hopes that soon all our airtime would be faster than the speed of sound and eventually available to the average Joe.
Lazy Lazy Lazy Lazy Katie….
Atlanta, GA
…she wants a drink of water so she waits and waits and waits and waits for…it to rain? No…for Max to come home and get her a glass of water so she doesn’t have to get off the couch. Because she’s too damn lazy.
Not really. I actually did the dishes and sent off some e-mails and then realized the dishwasher must be broken since the kitchen floor is now covered in water. (Max, you may have wanted to mention that before you left me alone at your apartment to eat all your food, dirty all your dishes, and flood your kitchen?)
You see the reason I feel lazy is because of the sudden resurgence in TV watching I’ve been doing. Or at least TV shows I’ve been watching that are now on DVD. Jeanne will be pleased to know that I have too become hooked on “Felicity.” Now some of you may think to yourself, “You watch “Buffy”, I’m surprised you hadn’t already seen Felicity,” but really the shows are very different and I wanted nothing to do with the soap opera/cry me a river WB drama of such things as “Felicity” and “Dawson’s Creek.” But alas, Dave has harped on me for awhile now to give it a shot and seeing that I’m on sabbatical and he had them on DVD, I started watching it; and that was all it took. I’m hooked. Prepare yourself, but “Felicity” is actually a well-written, methodically thought-out, fairly accurate portrayal of what college might be like for someone. I have my complaints about things such as how freaking skinny everyone is, or how many mistakes she makes, or how they all seem to be friends throughout the entire series (I myself don’t know what most of my first two years of college friends are up to now), but basically it is enjoyable, believable, and I actually can’t stop watching.
Unfortunately, I don’t have Season 3 with me (it’s on tape back at Dave’s and I’m in Atlanta with Max). I was supposed to save at least four episodes from Season 2 for the plane ride home (Dave lent me his little DVD player, whatta guy), but I got carried away and found myself finishing up Season 2 at 3:30am the other night.
So where does that leave me? Watching “Queer as Folk” from Max’s DVD collection. Maddy, if you’re reading this, the woman at Broadway Video was right. The original British version is ten times better than the American version, but strange to watch since the story line is almost identical. God help me. I’m an addict. I haven’t left Max’s apartment since he left for work in Augusta yesterday. He gets back in a half hour and I’m still sitting here. Tomorrow we leave for Maine to see Aaron and possibly Jeanne! Maybe this will break my bad habit of slackerdom. New England, here I come. Break out the beer.
Stir fried Nightmares
Atlanta, GA
Most of my close friends know I’ve always had nightmares. Ever since I was three years old I would wake up remembering all the disturbing images leftover from the subconscious montage the night before. After a while, I started to enjoy most of them for the stories they told and the interesting notion that it took details from my days and wove them together into a David Lynchesque short film. Still, there were times when the nightmares were more like night terrors. For those who never spent their adolescence obsessed over dreams and such, as I did, the difference between the two is that you usually don’t remember your night terrors and you wake up startled, sweating, and at a loss as to what happened, just the feeling like you were violated in some way. They are actually more of a sleeping disorder so I would not say that I ever suffered from official night terrors, but that’s the best way for me to describe them. In college I had a resurgence of the “night terrors,” but this time the worst part was that throughout the following day, I would have sudden flashbacks: images of the dream flickering into my thoughts, progressively getting worse until I could remember a good portion of it and unfailingly wishing I hadn’t. This happened to me today.
So here I shall offer up one of the most disturbing dreams I’ve had in years. It was a two parter. The first night I could only remember bits and pieces and I wasn’t sure I was remembering it correctly, but then this morning I had the sequel, or rather the conclusion, hopefully. If this is a three parter, I don’t think I’m ready for it. Before I begin, I just want to apologize to those making an appearance in the dream. The cast of characters are as follows: some woman who rents out obscure locations,
…and myself of course for I play the appropriate lead character, the first person point of view role.
Nightmare Part 1: As with most dreams, this one dissolved from something absurd, I think involving being chased by a doberman, into this. Christy and I are talking and she says she has a brilliant idea. She says we should invite Kris and Shoshana for dinner, of which I think is a great idea so I say, “of course, but why?” Christy says, “Well, I have this idea. We invite them for dinner. A little veggie stir fry, your specialty, but the surprise will be that they’ll actually be the main ingredient.” I stare at her for a minute, trying to process what she is saying. Somehow she has this idea that it would be clever and ironic to trick them into believing it will be a vegetarian dinner, when in actuality it will have meat in it and that meat will be them. We will murder them. And then we will eat them. She seems so sure of it’s brilliance and foolproofness, that for some reason I begin to nod numbly and agree to invite them. All the while the word CANNIBALISM keeps flashing across the screen of my dream and I can’t stop picturing the chicken like fleshy meat in the stir fry pan. This image stays with me throughout, popping up here and there. The plan is to hold the “dinner party” out in the wilderness off this trail and she promises to set all that up if I just convince them to come. Then I woke up and was unsure as to what I had just dreamt.
Nightmare Part 2: Picking up in real time it seems, it is the next night and Christy asks me if I got a hold of Kris and Shoshana. I say yes and that they are really excited about dinner. She introduces me to this woman who tells us we can have the rental all night and that there are only a few rules. The rules consist of things such as “no pot, no drunk and disorderly behavior, however alcohol is allowed” and I all I kept thinking was, “that’s no problem, we won’t be doing any of that. We’re just going to kill one of my best friends and his girlfriend. No pot, no drunkenness.” But at the same time I knew I didn’t want to do it and I didn’t really believe we were going through with it. Christy and the woman exchange a few more words while I zone out and try to figure out if this is just a dream and how I’m going to manage to wake myself up. Then we head into a supermarket while Christy describes how everything is going to go down. She says that out on this cliff within some trees we’ve rented a kitchen from this woman and all the dishes and food is already up there waiting for us. She says she set it all up yesterday, which begs to wonder whether she did this before or after she talked me into this idea. I tell her that Kris and Shosh are going to meet us up there and they might get there first. I’m starting to worry that they’ll start to figure it out if it doesn’t look like we are going to cook dinner. Christy says, “Well, of course we’re cooking dinner. Everything is ready up there. That’s what this is all about. Dinner.” As we buy some last minute items like garlic and ginger I duck out to make sure Kris and Shosh know where they are going.
Next scene I am standing in front of the path leading up to the dinner spot, talking to Kris. He tells me how excited they are to have dinner with us and how much they are looking forward to my stir fry. As he heads up the hill, I tell him I’ll meet him later after Christy brings the rest of the food, and that’s when I notice the cop car parked right there. Two cops are sitting in the car and one leans out the window to ask me how things are going. I say things are well and they prod a bit more with questions about the “evening’s activities.” I am starting to panic and I am sure they are memorizing my face and comments. I tell them we are having a nice dinner up on the cliff. They tell me to enjoy my evening, but Kris walks back up and begins to chat with them. I had thought he was already gone so I try to hide how startled I am. It turns out Kris is friends with the cops and so while he schmoozes I leave him and head up the hill.
When I get up there, Christy shows up and I drag her into the bathroom. I faintly recall wondering how a bathroom is in the middle of the outdoors. I’m talking full on pristine white bathroom. In a panic, I start grilling Christy on whether we are really going through with this. I think I was taking shots of Jagermeister as I hyperventilated. She tells me to snap out of it and that there is no going back. For some reason I can’t wrap my mind around the idea and I tell her there is no way we can trick them into eating meat. She grabs my face with both her hands and says, “Katie, Jesus Christ, they won’t be EATING the meat. They ARE the meat. We don’t have to trick them into thinking the meat isn’t meat. We just need to put them in the stir fry.”
This is the point where I realize I just can’t go through with it, but I don’t think Christy will let me out of it. Then the bathroom door is suddenly open and a cop is standing there with Kris behind him. The cop asks if everything is alright. He says, “You’re not throwing back a few too many in there are ya?” I wipe some tears off my face as I try to stand up and push on by him. I say, “No, just some personal anguish.” Christy shoots me a look, bats her eyes at the cop, and I glance up at Kris. He is looking at me with concern, but not concern over anything he may have caught on about, but more of a caring thought for me and what might be wrong. I tell him we should go let Shoshana know everything’s fine and I that we should start chopping up the veggies for dinner. He smiles and we walk further up the path. At this point all I can think as I sense Christy wrapping things up with the cop and following us up, is how can we possibly get away with anything now that the cops have seen us and know of our “dinner party” and drama.
I think it was at this point Max woke me up. Like I said, I am hoping this is not a trilogy. I also hope that Christy, Kris, and Shoshana don’t worry about what this dream might be saying. I am not sure where this came from. I also hope that this won’t make them weary of eating my excellent stir fry, because it really is my specialty. And now this makes the following picture all the more disturbing. Quit taunting me with food Christy. 🙂
So as the great Johnny Peel always says, “What do you think, sirs?”
Camera Pics of Winery Debauchery
Lost in Cyberspace
Salinas, CA
If you hadn’t noticed, my blog was down for the last three days. Ipowerweb somehow had a glitch in the domain name renewal when I extended my time with them. At first I thought, well this is just going to have to be a little hiatus for my blog (which is unfortunate because I had so much to blog) but then I realized that I couldn’t get e-mail either.
So this is to publicly apologize to anyone who thinks I’ve been ignoring their e-mails. I will be sitting down today and going through each of them.
It’s amazing how lost you feel when you don’t have your two links to friends and family: blog and e-mail. What’s that you say? A Phone? I don’t think I’ve heard of this contraption you speak of. I’ll have to look into that.
Wine A Little, You’ll Feel Better
Well, Katie is lounging in the backyard relaxing and enjoying her “sabbatical”, so you all will just have to settle for me, Christy. I have totally corrupted Katie this weekend in California’s lesser known wine country, Paso Robles. Let’s just say that she is now very educated in the way of wine. I think that the three most interesting things that she learned this weekend are as follows:
1. No matter what color the grape is, if you squeeze it the juice runs clear. The red color of wine comes from the skins.
2. Zinfandel is NOT white.
3. No matter how much time has passed, true friends can pick up where they left off and never miss a beat.
The weekend started out with a drive down to Paso from Salinas. We discussed many things including the people in that list over there on the left (ya’ll are so fun to read about) and listened to the music of our past. Friday night we went to dinner and ate WAY too much. For a girl that is not from Cali (me), it was nice to have someone else who actually EATS (Katie). The sushi was good, the teppan grill was even better and the Zinfandel was not white (much to Katie’s surprise).
Saturday we started our day with the world’s most beautiful mimosa. We came to the conclusion that everyone should have a morning drink to take the edge off the day. Try it for one week and see if we are correct in our assumption. I then took Katie wine tasting. I can honestly say I think she really enjoyed herself. For the sake of saving space and your time, I will cut to the end of the day when we finished our tasting tour at Tobin James where the third blonde works. So, now that we had the power of three back together we started…um…indulging ourselves in the miracle of wine. I am sorry to Johnny for torturing him with a couple of not so sober phone calls. But, we had a great time and danced to Justin Timberlake in the middle of a tasting room. A great time was had by all and for anyone who received a phone call, text message, or picture from us that night….you have been blessed by the Three Blondes and should feel lucky…hee hee hee. I am going to sign off because I think a wrestling match has begun between my husband and Katie regarding the Niners/Seahawks game. Thanks for letting me borrow my little Katiedid for a weekend. She is THE BEST!!!!
Follow the Hot Pink Road…
If you’ve read KB’s blog, I’m sure you’ve gathered that my travels have begun, starting with a visit in Portland where I met up with a dear old friend. That’s right, Billy Idol. Alas, he had a show that night so we couldn’t hang for too long and I had California waiting for me so we parted ways. The life of a rock star is hard and he’s had to learn to adjust to my lifestyle because of it. Poor Billy.
With Kris and Joey still sleeping, I whispered a quick goodbye and headed out the door with hopes of making it from Portland to Oakland in one day. It’s funny to think as a kid how far it seemed and how necessary it was to make it a two day trip. Of course that was when leaving from Whidbey Island, but still I think ten hours is easy. Especially since I was accompanied by Stephen King’s “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon” on tape and then followed by David Sedaris’ practically complete collection on tape as well.
There were points in my drive where I realized I was focusing so much on the stories or the road that I had completely blocked out the scenery. I found this strange because while traveling for work, I always noticed how beautiful everything around me was, or in some cases how dreadfully dry and flat. But since I was making an I-5 drive down to Cali, a drive which I could do blindfolded, I think I was…well acting blindfolded.
At this point I realized the only thing I had really noticed were big splashes of paint on the road in front of me every few hours. Somewhere in Oregon is when I first noticed a huge splatter of Hot Pink paint and the dented can off to the side. I made an unconscious note of this and drove on. Then shortly after entering California I noticed another giant stain of Hot Pink. It was at this point I thought to myself, “Oh my god, I hope that was all the Hot Pink they were carrying because that definitely does not need to go up on anyone’s wall, house, or fence.” Two hours later I was both comforted and pleased when I saw a nice shade of stucco splashed across my lane. The comfort came from the fact I felt as if I were being shown that despite my lack of attention to where I was going, I at least was going the way of the paint. Consistent with some tacky interior designer maybe, no doubt heading to the Castro district.
Around the final half hour of my drive I noticed the last bit of paint, apparently the primer, a stark white laid across marking the end of my trip. First, the thoughtful pensive Katie said, “And so I’ve arrived. Thank you good paint for leading the way.” But then the practical Katie thought, “Some poor fool is going to get to where they’re going and have nothing left but some paint brushes and maybe another can of primer.” At least we can rest assured the Hot Pink won’t be making an appearance anytime soon in some tasteless California home.
So this brings me back into blogging. You can hate or not, but I will try from here on out to keep you updated. I’ve been resting and getting things done the last few days, which includes finally mailing my taxes off (they owe me money so cut me a break) and making promise after promise to get Erin and Jenna moved over to Movable Type. It will happen you two, really. Just give me some time and I’ll be back in the swing of things.
And as Christy said, I had yet another flat tire, just as I was getting onto the Bay Bridge in rush hour traffic in San Fran. Luckily I was able to pull off quickly and in under 15 minutes had the tire changed and ready to go. I’m getting good at this. The “Katie luck” didn’t end there though; turns out the tire is shot so I just picked up my car from having a new tire thrown on it. Someone up there must think I need a lot of practice with the tire changing.
The Hawk circles then lands…
Erin is back! So we must all comment in order to keep her going. Agreed? Good.