I think I'd like to get punched in the stomach.
For real.
And I say this only because yesterday a friend asked me how I was doing and I told him: Good, but sometimes it feels like someone has punched me in the stomach when I wake up in the mornings.

Which got me to thinking...Is that really how I feel when I wake up? Like someone has literally punched me? I mean how would I know? I've never been punched in the stomach before, which...is a good thing, I agree, but...Well, now I'm curious.

And while we're on the topic of physical violence, I think I'd also like to get slapped in the face- just once. And not in any vicious or dramatic manner; I don't want to experience the mental part of that equation, I just want to know what it feels like to have someone slap me across the face. Not that I'm looking for any takers, because I wouldn't want just anybody slapping me, and no one I know really fits the bill right now in the department of Ideal Slapper, if such a department even exists, so I guess I am just plum out of luck for now.

Annnnd, I think I've shared too much.
Yes.
Yes, I have.

Overheard at school yesterday...

Sean, one of my 3rd grade boys, was getting ready to leave when he turns to his good friend, Nathan (a 2nd grader) and says:

Sean- Hey, Nathan, do you like the Sox?
Nathan- What kind of socks?
Sean- ...The WHITE Sox.
Nathan- Oh! Right...Yeah, I like them.
Sean-Then why aren't you wearing black?
Nathan- ...What?
Sean- You should be wearing black then.
Nathan-...Why?
Sean-(in a loud sports announcer voice) Because good guys wear black!!!
Nathan- (no response)
Sean-(in same announcer voice) Because good guys wear black!!!
Nathan-(long pause)........Oh.

Sean then looks at me to get some backup, or help, or something, so to diffuse the awkwardness, I say:
Hey, I'm wearing black. So I guess I'm a good guy, right?
Sean- (After a good laugh) It's good GUYS wear black, Katy...You're a girl!
Me- What, so good GIRLS can't wear black?

He doesn't respond- he just chuckles some more and shakes his head a little as if to say, Good one, katy! as he heads out the door.

I'm eating cotton candy right now for breakfast.
I'm not ashamed.
In fact I'm proud!
Okay, maybe proud isn't the word I am looking for but..
It's not that bad for you! I mean it's fat free and everything!
Okay, so maybe it's also like pouring sugar straight down my throat, but...
Is that really such a bad thing???

Exactly...

I had new head shots taken yesterday. Finally. My current ones (and I use current lightly) are so out of date, its not even funny.

This is just one of the 200 I have to sift through this week so I can narrow it down to that magical "one." Unfortunately I am extremely critical and picky when it comes to pictures of myself, so I will have to rely on what my photographer and a few other select people recommend. But if anyone else would like to add their 2 cents, just let me know and I can email you the link to the zillion and one photos.

I just watched The Sentinel at the movie theater.
Annnnnd...I loved it.

More ranting and raving...

So when I found out my show was extending, I decided to wait a little bit and not tell some people who hadn't seen it yet. You know, to kind of let them think that this weekend really was the last weekend- to see if they really would make it to my show after all.

Well, at work, it ended up coming out at staff meeting (and not from my mouth) that my show had been extended for two more weeks, which prompted an immediate collective sigh and round of exclamations to the tune of, "Oh thank goodness! Now I'll be able to see it!" Which prompted me to say (in my head), "Yeah, because you've only had SIX WEEKS TO COME SEE MY SHOW!! But glad you feel so confident that you can find a night in the next two weeks, when you couldn't find one over the past month and a half."

But that not being a very nice thing to say, I just smiled politely.

But what really gets my goat, is that when my show finally is over, inevitably...There's going to be at least two (or ten) people, who, (and this applies to people who live here and promised they would come see my show) will come up to me and say, as they gently put their hand on my shoulder, "I'm so sorry I didn't get to see your show, Katy. I was just so busy." To which I will desperately want to reply, "Seriously? For the past eight weeks you were busy? There wasn't one night you could have come out to see me?" Because that's what I'll be thinking.

Which makes me think I need to come up with a good comeback for when this happens, because I can't really say the above mentioned, nor can I say something like, "Oh that's okay," because really...It's not okay. I need something...witty, something that seems sincere or even is sincere, but that has a nice undertone of slap in the face...

Any ideas would be appreciated.

The Kid From Brooklyn

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-2822306162459936941&q=the+kid+from+brooklyn&pl=true

I just found this on my friend's blog. What a trip!
Thank you ZQ.

I'm ready to go to a baseball game.
I'm ready for the peanuts
and the $5 beers
and the cheering
and the tension
and the nachos
and the ridiculous amount of high fives
and the steamed hotdogs wrapped up in silver paper
and becoming best friends with everyone who's sitting in my section
and watching my finger tips turn blue as I polish off an entire bag of cotton candy...

Oh, it just sounds heavenly...

note to self: Baking soda toothpaste is really disgusting. Do not buy again.

Extended: Main Entry: ex·tend·ed 1: drawn out in length especially of time 2: three more weekends left for all of you who haven't seen my show, to come and see it 3: the prolonged amount of pain you will feel if, during these next three weeks, you do not come to see it

So here's the thing about orange juice...

Once I start drinking it, I can't stop. And I'm not joking. I LOVE orange juice, but all I really want is one little glass full. Yet 10 minutes later, the sour taste buds in the back of my mouth start CRAVING that delicious orange taste. And by craving, I mean like cocaine. I'm not even thirsty anymore yet, there I am, back in the kitchen, not able to pour myself a glass fast enough.

And this could go on all night! It's like there are drugs in my juice. I will literally keep going back because my mouth starts acting like its going to rip itself out of my face to get to the OJ if I don't take it over there and pour some in.

I drank five glasses last night in under thirty minutes. Five. My stomach was like, STOP ALREADY! You have so much juice in here, Moses could part it and lead the Israelites through!!!

That would have been fine with me...

This is all I want for Easter...

It is 6:59 am
I've been up since 6:35
and I don't think I am awake yet-
despite the fact that I've showered
and gotten dressed
and logged onto this computer...

Nope.
Still sleeping.
Hopefully I will wake up soon
since I have to leave for work in about 4 minutes.

Man, I feel like punching someone in the face
for having to wake up this early
and actually function.
And I would too,
except no one is around to punch
and my arms aren't really working yet.

Since it's Monday...

...I thought a few gay Hasselhoff pictures were in order.

www.myspace.com/oracleproductions

I ran around my house this morning
trying desperately to hide from Friday.
He finally found me
under the blanket on the couch.
He said, I know that's you under there...
So you might as well come out.
I waited for a full minute
but when he didn't go away
I yanked the blanket off
and with my hair all in my face
I gave him a dirty look.
Now is that any way to treat a friend?
he asked.
No, I replied, But you're not my friend. You're a weekday.
He smiled at this
(though I could tell my words had wounded him)
and then handed me my list.
It reached the floor.
Here's what you have to do today,
best be getting started.
I mumbled a thanks
and walked over to the window
to watch the impending storm.
Don't let the rain lure you away,
my dear, there's no time for absconding today...
I know, I replied, I'll be good.
He gathered up his things
while I looked out the window for a few minutes more.
Good bye Friday, I finally said,
See you next week.
But he didn't hear me.
He had already slipped out...

Speaking of being ridiculous...

On my way home from work yesterday, I was listening to this beautiful piano sonata on the radio, and when it ended, the announcer revealed the name of the song, but he said it so fast that I missed it. So what did I instinctually do?? I pressed my thumb into my steering wheel...as if it were my Tivo remote, in an attempt to rewind what the guy had said. Yeah. And the worst part of it all, is that after I pressed my steering wheel (God, I feel like a dork just typing it!) I literally thought to myself for a good 3/4 of a second..."Why isn't this working?"

(sigh) I need a vacation...

listening to the Pumpkins-
every glorious last song...

Dear Miss Boza,

Sorry we got you so good yesterday. It really wasn't our intention and we apologize for the inconvenience. Though it sure gave us a good laugh when we realized you didn't know the clocks had been changed in your house and you thought you were running late to work, ONLY to arrive there a whole hour early. But rest assured, we weren't trying to trick you, these things just happen. So we hope you accept our apologies, and...Thanks again for the laugh.

Sincerely,
The Daylight Saving Time Committee

So, last night, I was driving down the alley behind my apartment, when I noticed a...Christmas tree... that had just been thrown out. A Christmas tree.

Now...Let's think about this for a moment, shall we?
Actually, let's not, because really, there's only one thing to say...
It's fucking April, folks. AP-RIL.