Category Archives: Special Days

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LizBear is Getting Lots of Love

Great news. I’m over in Spokane working for nine weeks, but was able to sign my papers on the house just before I left town. My friend Scott, my sister Maddy, and her co-worker Kevin all did the walkthrough on my place yesterday. If I had to pick three of the most nit-picky, OCD, thorough people in the world, it would be them. I am giddy with how they went through my place and found things I would never have seen. Great eyes and I owe them quite a bit for the amazing job.

The best part is that my realtor informed them I had officially closed and gave my keys to Scott so when I get home on the plane tonight I will be a brand new home owner!

This whole week knowing that I had done everything I could and had left my place in good hands, I slept so well. Better than I had in the past three months and I was more than happy to curl up with my Teddy Bear and fall asleep smiling.

Thank you everyone who helped me get through this. And an advance thank you to those who are helping me move half of my stuff in tomorrow morning before I fly back to Spokane for the rest of my stint as a Blue Shirt.

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Don’t you need a license for that?

Congratulations to The Goat and Amy on their pregnancy! When I asked if they went through some screening process or procured a license to have a baby, The Goat informed me that apparently anyone is allowed. There aren’t any laws! Can you believe it!?

But then my good friend Dave said, “Well, unless you’re gay.” Ah yes, all sorts of sudden hurdles to jump.

So here’s to The Goat and Amy in celebration of their heterosexual procreation! Be fruitful and multiply! I mean, good job on already doing that. 🙂

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Top Ramen in an empty living room

I’m not sure why I haven’t been blogging about something big that’s happening in my life. I’d say there seems to be a trend that really important BIG days don’t get blogged about. For example, Dave and John’s wedding. That will probably be the wedding of my life. I doubt my sisters will get married and I don’t see me getting married. My parents were at the wedding and a good deal of the people I care about. Two men who I trust with my life started their lives together and I have to say it was one fucking unbelievable wedding.

I’m not into weddings. It’s just not my thing. When I go, I usually have more fun the night before when we are all out drinking and partying away with the excuse that it’s the last night for them to be single. But in this case the wedding itself was one of the most enjoyable days of my life. Quite possibly one of the biggest days of my life. How sad is that?

So why no blog? I guess it could be I keep some things private. Or it could be that I am so busy enjoying or going through the big stuff that I just don’t have time to sit down and write about it until it’s long over and then I feel like it’s too late.

But with the wedding, I think I was just worried I wouldn’t do it justice. It’s easy to write throw away entries on tea and ordering at a restaurant, but when you go to write about something that was unforgettable, suddenly you don’t think you are up to the task. And quite frankly, unless you know all of us or the grooms, you may not find it as special or interesting as I do.

So what is the new big thing, you’re asking?

What is it that has caused me to be stressed out, tired, excited, distracted, emotional, and just plain schizophrenic?

What has caused my cell phone minutes to run out and my email box to be overloaded?

What crazy thing am I doing now?

What am I doing that is going to drastically change my lifestyle?

What could make me eat tunafish out of a can instead of Mashikos at the sushi bar?

I just put an offer on a house.

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Today is a good day to drive

The day has finally come.

While driving around the country for my last job, I managed to acquire 5 moving violations in a two-year period. Some of which I feel were unjustly doled out to me while others probably were deserved. They are as follows:

  • UNJUST TICKET #1: The only redeeming thing about Texas is that you can drive 70mph on their back roads. Unfortunately, after a few months of trips there I was sent to Michigan where the back roads are 55mph if you’re lucky. I was driving on a back road late at night with a co-worker, soon-to-be boyfriend, and I wanted to impress him with my good driving. So I was being extra careful to go the speed limit: 65mph. Lo and behold, flashing lights pop up behind us. I pull over, completely dumbfounded as to why I’m getting pulled over. Turns out it was 55mph. So the reason I think this is unjust is: 1) how can anyone possibly go 55mph AND 2) I really was TRYING to go the posted speed limit. Apparently, I hadn’t looked to see what that posted speed limit was. Argh.
  • UNJUST TICKET #2: Again late at night, but this time driving in Missouri on a lonely dark back road. Listening to a REALLY suspenseful scary point in my book on tape. Now for any of you who know me, or any of you who listen to books on tape, you know that sometimes you find yourself doing things like driving an hour past your exit before realizing it because of the engrossing story you’re listening to. So here I am, staring madly at the road and as the story’s intensity climbs, my foot pushes further down on the gas pedal. Now without any other cars for miles I don’t realize that I’m going 80mph on a probably 55mph road (damn M states and their slow speeds). Because of the subject matter in my book, my mind is of course preoccupied with people in trouble or bad situations, so when I see a car pulled over on the opposite side of the road I immediately worry that something is wrong and this person needs my help. So I slow down with every intention of flipping a bitch in order to go back and help them.
    Well, the damn car was a cop and as I was slowing down he was flipping his own bitch to chase my speeding ass. When he walked up to my car I held up my book on tape box and said, “I was at a REALLY good part in my book and had NO idea how fast I was going.” He laughed and said, “Well, I’ve never heard that one before. Leave your car running so the heater stays on, but come sit in the cruiser with me while I run this.” Strange? I didn’t think so at the time because it was soon-to-snow cold out and he probably didn’t want to ask me any questions while standing in the freezing air. So here I am sitting in a police cruiser on a practically abandoned highway. He was young, cute, and sweet so I decided things could be worse. Let’s face it, I was going 30mph OVER the speed limit.
    Then get this, they couldn’t trace my driver’s license because of the asterisk in the number (I have a four letter last name). I said, “I guess you can’t issue me a ticket then, right,” flashing that smile people have said is my only redeeming characteristic. He appreciated the joke (was it a joke?) but ran the plates instead. Weirdness part two: the car’s plates were registered to a different car. Luckily he believed me when I said, “Hey, it’s a rental. I don’t even know what company makes that car. Do you recognize that symbol?” He didn’t. We laughed. He gave me a ticket for going only 5mph over the speed limit and said I should rethink my book-on-tape habit. Then I climbed back into my warm SUV and started the book up again. You’re probably wondering why I think this is an unjust ticket. Well, I wasn’t purposely speeding AND I even slowed down with intent to help the supposed stranded motorist (which was a stupid idea anyway). So I feel like I had all good intentions. That’s all. But I’ll take the 5mph gift.
  • TOTALLY JUSTIFIED TICKET #3: Well, I can’t really remember where I got this one. I’m sure it was probably Virginia. They must have some sort of contest out there by Charlottesville to see which cop can give the most tickets because they were everywhere and if you ask my co-workers, that’s probably the state or county where we scored the most tickets. Scored meaning, those fucking assholes got us every time.
  • SOMEWHAT JUSTIFIED TICKETS #4 and #5: Car accident. Big. Huge. Not paying attention. Cruise control on. Saw cars stopped up ahead. Wondered why I wasn’t slowing down. Realized I had cruise control on and had to actually put my foot on the brake. Rental car made me worry about skidding. Plenty of time to stop, but doubted everything in that moment. Big Ravine to the right, gravel lot to the left, chose to cross the oncoming lane (thinking all traffic was stopped). Hit by oncoming Peterbilt Asphalt Truck. Car totaled. Truck driver panicked that he killed passengers. I was the only one in the car. No permanent injuries, but rushed to the hospital in an ambulance none-the-less. Looked like my boyfriend had taken a baseball bat to my body. Couldn’t sit well for a month or two. Long story short. Two tickets. No fine for the tickets. One for crossing an oncoming lane. The other for “careless driving” different from reckless driving. Careless driving is what they give you if you accidentally back into someone’s mailbox. I got off easy. But on my insurance it looks like two moving violations. Equal opportunity tickets.

So why am I reminiscing? Because after a few years of paying $1800 for every 6 months of car insurance, the five tickets have finally dropped off my record. I am now happily paying only $581 for every 6 months. Thank god. Now I can buy a house.

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And this isn’t even all of it

Olympia, WA

Turns out Olympia is not too shabby. The downtown is reminiscent of San Luis Obispo or parts of Portland. There is a lot going on and great food (which is always key to me liking a town) and I’ve already done more in the last two weeks here than I sometimes do at home in Seattle.

The first week I was here I immediately nestled into my hotel room like an old familiar bathrobe. The only difference is that this time I took advantage of the pool and hot tub. When I was on the road before, there were always too many kids or I was alone and didn’t like hanging out with a bunch of strange businessmen by myself. After some “martinis” (in quotes since it was really just expensive vodka shaken over ice and given a twist of lemon) a few of my co-workers and I enjoyed a dip in the hot tub, followed by an improv game of pool baseball.

Later in the week Jay took me out on the town to listen to some bands. When walking around Oly at night waiting for his friend’s band to play, I was amazed at how many people were out and about and how welcoming everyone was. We wandered into the basement of a house and listened to an off-the-wall group (possibly former drama kids) play a few songs and no one looked at us like, “who the hell are you and what are you doing here.” Especially since I’m starting to feel more and more like an old yuppy. I hate that.

If that wasn’t enough after work activity, the next night we went to Homo A GoGo. We had tickets to see the Indigo Girls (who were amazing as always) but the highlight of the night for me was hearing Mirah play. Jay and Matina introduced me to her music and I can’t get enough of her. I have quite the crush. She is the cutest little thing with a voice that sounds almost like the lead singer of Frente! and she writes and plays with a unique and mesmerizing style. I was hooked instantly and tickled later when I caught sight of her up on the side of the stage during the Indigo Girls just in time to watch her throw her bra at them. She was so discreet about taking it off, you could hardly think of it as scandalous. It was more adorable, if anything.

Later when we wandered out of the concert over to Jay’s friend Josh who was selling Vegan treats to post-concert appetites, I noticed Mirah crouched down in front of the bin of Zucchini wraps and Marionberry Tarts. While Jay talked to Josh about his new vegan cookbook called, “Something Delicious This Way Comes,” I fidgeted excitedly trying to get Jay’s attention so I could point out that the most amazing woman in the world was practically sitting on his feet. But being that he’s 6’6″ with shoes on, he never noticed her. As she grabbed her food and stood up to walk away, I mustered up a wimpy “Great show” and she replied in the sweetest voice, with a dimpled smile, “Thank you.” It was heaven. I’ll have to tell Matina all about it.

The Indigo Girls had a raffle for someone to sing on stage with them. I bought five tickets and didn’t win, but the entire build up to it had me wavering back and forth between hope and fear that I might win. The girl who won did a great job singing “Closer to Fine” with them because you could tell she was just happy to be up there. I have to say though, I was wearing an almost identical outfit to both Amy and Emily, so I think I would have looked great up there with my jeans and T-shirt that had Elmo on the front and “Tickles Wanted” on the back. I even imagined that if I won, they would read my t-shirt and tickle me and I could say I was tickled by Amy and Emily, so bow before me, if you must.

Homo A GoGo is sponsored by the Gender Variant Health Project (GVHP). Check out the site for more info. It was an amazing event and I wish I could have participated in more activities. So that was just my first week in Oly. This is the start of week three of eight. But don’t think I’m done yet. On to a recap of Week Two.

Last week I headed home on Tuesday night in order to go to my XGym on Wednesday. I got to see RAR and Jenna over dinner at Bizarro which is a great Italian restaurant near Greenlake. I highly recommend it. RAR and I looked through our Europe journal and reminisced then I wandered off around midnight to wake up Aaron, who had rolled into Seattle earlier that day. We stayed up talking until 2am, so needless to say, XGym hurt at 6:45am and driving to Oly after that was near dangerous. Still worth it though.

Back in Oly, we went bowling after work and then Jay and I went on a search for some quick Vegan food, which is terribly hard to do when you’re tired and you want something fast. We ended up at Japanese, which was delicious. Thank god this isn’t Iowa.

Can you believe I didn’t blog all this time? I’m only halfway through what I’ve been up to! I went to Jo-Ann Fabrics with another co-worker, Burnsey, and proceeded to be made fun of for being a fabric buying virgin. When Burnsey realized I’d never purchased fabric before, she immediately called Jay (who single-handedly supports most fabric stores) and they laughed together when I walked up sheepishly holding a ream of cloth asking if I was allowed to touch it or if I was supposed to leave it on the shelf and get help. We made a box for Maria’s wedding so people could put donations to Act of Giving in it, but my only real role in the process was to refill Burnsey and Jay’s cups with Whiskey while they glued and ironed the fabric on. Okay, maybe I painted the box, but you hardly see that part anyway.

In the end, I felt more useful with the glue and ribbon once I realized Jay was no longer able to keep a straight line of glue going. I’m quite the bartender.

On Friday, the night before the wedding, I went to dinner with Aaron and Chris, then met up with Leah. I was hyper and talkative in the beginning, but quickly crashed after a long week. Went home around 11:30 and slept hard.

Maria’s wedding was beautiful. The drive up to Vancouver on Saturday was hot and muggy and the day continued that way. The wait at the border was insane and neither Jay nor I had really planned for that. But we showed up in time for some Tofu dogs and then the baby dedication started. Baby Brennan is a doll and the wedding ceremony that followed was equally touching. With Maria and Sharon dancing into the room and sharing their love with everyone, there was hardly a dry eye. At least, mine weren’t dry. I felt fortunate to be a part of it and as Michelle said at the wedding, we look with love and awe at Maria and Sharon and the family they have created wondering how can anyone say that could be wrong. That is a family I want to be a part of and you could tell everyone in the room felt the same way.

After the wedding, Jay and I stayed with some friends of his, Jen and Andy, who had the most adorable 3-year-old named Sam (Second of course to Maria and Sharon’s son Aidan). It was so relaxing to sit with them and listen to their new CD they are about to release and watch Jen paint. Just the way I would want to spend all my weekends. I learned that 3-year-olds say the darndest things and now that Sam has learned about his privates he loves to giggle and say, “I’m going to throw my balls to Makela!” Makela is his best friend, and one day I imagine she will set Sam straight about what he should do with his balls. Until then, he might just be the brightest 3-year-old I know.

As his dad was leaving for work, he ran over to him, gave him a hug and whispered, “I love you Dad. You’re the best Dad ever.” Now how freaking precious is that. Almost makes my clock start ticking.

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It’s my neurosis and I’m keeping it.

First off, Happy Birthday to Debbie and Charity today and Happy Birthday to Ruth yesterday! (thanks Kris, I stole Debbie’s picture from you.)

I shared a drink with Debbie last night and then moved on to share a few with Ruth, but let me just say that eating only a salad during the day, having a few vodka tonics, and getting home at 1am does not make for a fun 7am XGym workout. Argh.

Onward. I discovered something about myself this week. Whenever I use a public restroom, I do the usual checking out of each stall to find the cleanest one WITH toilet paper. Okay, nothing strange there. What I realized though is that from there on out, if I return to the bathroom multiple times that day, I always return to the same stall. First I thought, well maybe I like the idea of minimizing the number of new germs I expose myself to, but we all know that this is not just an unavoidable bathroom conundrum, but most women also know that we run by the rule of “Hover, Cover, or Go Home.”

I have a lot of friends who fret when there aren’t any toilet seat covers (someone’s genius idea of a top notch paper protection plan). I also have a few friends who simply won’t use the restroom in public at all (you know who you are). But I follow the Hover plan. The way I see it, the only exercise I get sometimes is hovering over a toilet seat. It’s my very own version of squats. With this in mind, the only thing I touch is the door to the stall and the toilet paper. I use my foot to flush and I always wash my hands after (Kris likes to shatter my crushes on people by telling me who does and does not wash their hands, so beware).

You’re probably wondering what this gripping tale has to do with my neurosis. Well, I just find it peculiar that I pick a stall or a single person restroom and stick with it. Not just on that day, but any time I return in the future. At work, I always seek out the same restroom and stall. When in a new section of the building, I find a new designated spot. I won’t go so far as to walk all the way back to my original bathroom if I’m far away. I’ll just stake claim on another one in the new area.

When I was at Western I remember someone telling me they wanted to use every stall in every bathroom on campus before graduating and I thought that sounded kind of cool. But on further reflection I realized that I form a special bond with my stalls, as if to say, “Hey, missed ya, thanks for being there for me.” As if we share a special secret, my commode and me.

So here’s to all the toilets who have been there for me.
�The second stall at “The Garage” on Broadway
�The first stall on the first floor of Miller Hall
�The Team 2 handicapped single bathroom on the fourth floor of the South building at Central Group Health
�The second stall in my high school humanities hallway where I once cleaned up all the stray paper by setting it on fire
�The foyer bathroom of my parent’s house when I was in 6th grade where I would soak my short hair in the sink and slick it back so it would feather just right by the end of the day
�The yellow bathroom at home as a kid where I was potty trained.
�And numerous other toilets that I’ve cradled in sickness and in…well, unnecessary drinking induced sickness.

My sister just told me she has chosen a stall at work that nobody uses because the door was damaged a bit from the last earthquake. This makes her feel as if she has her very own clean untainted stall.

So be honest folks, how about the rest of you?

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JP is the Shiznit

Happy Birthday Johnny! Here are a few choice pictures that remind me why I love our Johnny so much. Note the creative way he combines the chips with the cheese dip! And we may want to start considering teflon clothing for our dear beer drinking Johnny. 🙂 Happy Birthday, you horizontal stripe lovin’, Old Navy wearin’, ball of crazy!

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Say Baby Jesus…You are Healed!!

Today is our dear Tonja’s birthday and I want everyone to think kind thoughts for her today, and every other day you can remember to do so, but especially today.

Things we love about Tonja:
*her crazy voices (she should really be a puppeteer or something)
*her neverending knowledge of movie trivia or pop culture
*her generosity when we needed summer lodging during college and beyond
*her thoughtfulness (she will see an article you would like and she’ll cut it out for you, or notice something at a store that you have been looking for and will call to tell you she found it)
*her devotion to animals (both as a cat slave and a vegetarian)
*she was the infamous Smiley’s daughter (every Oak Harbor child’s favorite pizza place)
*she will always accompany you on errands or help you clean your room
*she has great drunken stories and she’s a trooper when we tell them
*she’s damn sexy
*she’s funny as hell
*she’s devoted

Feel free to add to my list!

Happy Birthday Tonja! Let’s see how long we can keep being referred to as kids or mid twenties! Everyone cross your fingers that she gets the condo she wants!

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Katie and her Groundhog climb back in

As some of you may have surmised, my birthday was Monday, Groundhog’s Day. On Sunday night, I had a great dinner at St. Cloud in Madrona with Scott, Tonja, Piet, and my sisters. Despite a few sisterly tiffs, it went fairly well and the waiter even sang Happy Birthday to me in a shockingly amazing voice. Thanks Aaron the waiter!

On Monday, my actual birthday, I was stuck in a new employee orientation all day in Tukwila. But my day was brightened by numerous text messages and voice mails wishing me a happy birthday. As well as a cute pic message from Johnny to my phone. Thank you everyone who remembered. I was amazed by the outpouring of kind thoughts and it made my day a little better. Unfortunately I had an exam and project due on Tuesday so after my work day I went into the office until 10:30pm and worked on my project.

Another thing, which seems to happen often on my birthday, is that I was sick. Still am a bit. I think I got my bad cold from Tonja because I didn’t give her much sympathy when she said she was sick and I even said, “I never get sick, let’s go hang out.” So there I was on my birthday feeling crappy and working all day. Then on Tuesday I took my exam and felt sicker, and then came Wednesday when, after popping some vitamins before training, I found myself in the bathroom hovering over the toilet with dry heaves. Needless to say, my teacher sent me home and, much like my brother the groundhog, I frowned at the shadow of my birthday and climbed back into bed.

The only thing that made it better (besides everyone’s birthday messages) was the fact that accompanying a great gift from my mom of a gift certificate for a cooking class, she also sent me my teddy bear, LizBear, who I had left in Oak Harbor. So there I was, curled up in bed with LizBear, and I was glad to have her back. 28 years together and sometimes I think she’s holding up better than I am.