Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Batten down the hatches, TN, because Hurricane Kate is coming through

Business suits: check
Pointy shoes: check
Wrinkle releaser spray: check
nails did: check
Brush-Ups to prevent bangin breath: double check

I finished all my work by 5 p.m. .today, which was a huge surprise, so I just may get a decent night's sleep tonight before the plane ride at a disgusting hour (6:30 a.m.). Trying to get 10 lbs of shit in a 5 lb bag (!) so I don't look high-maintenance (which I'm NOT!), but I do pack for lots of options.

I spent a lot of time worrying about what people think this week after a coworker said something to the effect of people not supporting me like I think they do. After some long, hard contemplation, I've come to the realization that none of them ever leave the island, so they can take their opinions and shove them. I will wow them to the best of my ability until they think it;s not possible to NOT hire me. I will, I REPEAT, WILL kick ass.

Wish me luck :)

Monday, April 25, 2005

I was driving up 95 yesterday, listening to the sad twangy tunes on Cat Country. I had just spent the afternoon getting hit with reality like a ton of bricks at my grandmother's house, and I was bawling my eyes out listening to some song about a mother becoming her own mother's hero through an illness. As the song wound down, an advertisement kicked on.

"Cat country 98.1... if you want more of today's country music, you'll have to move to Nashville!"

And I couldn't help but laugh.

Saturday, April 23, 2005

blame me for the rain

WANTED: a couch, anywhere. Need temporary place to sleep and shower. Promise to clean up blankets in the morning and not have any kind of sex. Will bring wine and cheese sticks as form of payment.

I'm boiling some water for some whole wheat pasta, and as I try to come back in the living room for my book, there he is. A golf-ball sized daddy longlegs, hanging on his web right in front of my face. I've reached a point where the cat's leftover mouse guts don't bug me; scooping up pissed-on newspapers and poop is like, whatever. But looking at this stupid spider and his angular little legs, weaving his way to the floor, I scream like Neve Campbell. My eyes followed his thread up to the ceiling. Sure enough, there was this daddy's daddy. I looked across the ceiling in horror and realized that they were everywhere. A little one over the couch, a huge one near the sliding door, a skinny one over the kitchen doorway. At least six in total. So after standing there dumbfounded for a few minutes and trying not to burn my pasta, I grabbed the nearest fly swatter and starting killing. Now there are spidey corpses everywhere and I think I'm gonna have to go.

I really, honestly feel like I can no longer live here, but Marianne sent me a fax (with "lots of love") saying my emergency contact is Zup. How am I gonna call Zup and tell him I'm leaving? That man probably knows three ways to kill me by looking through his monacle.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Nashville, thou art a dream

Where I am: on my bed
Where I should be: getting off a plane in Nashville

Temperature here: 43.5 degrees
Temperature there: high of 78 degrees

Conclusion: if I am not in Nashville, then my fat ass may as well go to the gym and work myself into a frenzy.

Not to worry- I am still going for the interview, but it has been postponed to next week. Of course, this throws a kink into a number of things, including my work schedule, my mother's birthday, my grandmother's 80th birthday party, reunion weekend, picking up erica j. and betsy at the airport and getting a dogsitter, but hey, I'm flexible.

The REAL downside to this is I had myself all psyched up and ready, and now I feel quite relaxed. I think this may be a bad thing, since now I'm more worried about the job I currently have. I started planning a story the other day, and opened the stupid ProJo the next day where my story idea was plastered on their South County edition. Now I have to figure out how to do it better. Stupid ProJo. What's with this competition shit anyway? That's not my bag.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Today

I was greeted this morning by a persistent hangover and the lower half of some small animal.

The hangover was my fault; I went out and had a couple martinis with my girls last night. The lower half of some small animal, I can only assume to be the work of Fred "The Killer" Astaire.

I bolted right off the couch at 10.5 Sherman about 7:30 a.m. and proceeded to the yard to throw up. Awesome. Once I'd convinced Jamie that I wouldn't die, I went home and promptly slept in the car, parked in my yard, for about an hour. The sun was nice, the bird's were tweeting, and I wasn't about to let some hangover keep me from enjoying it. When I finally dragged my listless self into the garage past the dogs, frenzied by my being there for so long but not coming in, I stopped and screamed.

I opened the door to the food room and almost stepped down onto something gray and furry. It wasn't bloody. At first, I thought it was a stuffed animal, but I don't recall leaving a gray stuffed lower extremity lying around. The worst part of it is that I couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe a rabbit, maybe a squirrel who lost its tail... I pondered it, and Elsa came over and grabbed it in her mouth and tried to run, so I screamed some more, gave up, and took a shower.
Keep in mind that I now bring a flip flop in the shower, a.k.a. Arachno-City. I came out pukey and wet and tried to dispose of the half-animal, but I couldn't find it.

I guess it's gone now. Wierd.

Monday, April 18, 2005

Holla back youngins

My apologies for lack of posts. I spent the weekend in sunny Hartford at a writer's conference which was very cool. Heard some super speakers and got super-inspired to be a super-journalist. In other news, though, some random fun facts:

During a banquet tonight, I sat next to the publisher of my paper who I happened to know, knows Miss M and the mysterious Zup. So I name dropped a bit and discussed with him "House," a.k.a. the Glen. "Ah, the Glen that burnt down," he said. We then spent a bit of time discussing whether the house was burned down by a candle, Indians or electrical malfunction.

In the event it was electrical, since Miss M built the new house on the very same foundation, the publisher advised me that I should either sleep on the first floor or plan an escape route. He said it takes quite some time to burn through the roof, so I should plan to just stay up there until the firefighters arrive or maybe shimmy down the decks.

When asked what Zup's real name is, the publisher said R. Campbell. Well, where on God's green earth did Zup come from, I asked. He looked at me incredulously.

"Have you seen the guy? He's a Zup if I ever saw one. What a character. I mean, his clothing!"

Zup was in fact a CIA agent, and he apparently spent the Vietnam era in Southeast Asia, running the mountains with the rebels or something.

"Oh, he's got some STORIES," the publisher said. "And boy, don't get on his bad side."

Duly noted.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

A few details to figure out

Hey I was thinking I better book the Motel 6. I'm thinking 2 rooms again? I can reserve them and you guys can just pay me back there.

Confirmed: Me, Bets, Kate, Erica, Jenn = 2 nights. Jess = fri pm. Josh = sat pm?
Maybe: Meg, Courtney, Chelle, Cathy

Also I'm hoping someone could pick me up at the airport that Friday around 5:25 pm? ;)

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Add hard water to the list of things that are wrong with this housesitting gig.

If you've seen me in the last month, you may have been privy to my whining about my hair looking greenish. Not all over, just where I have blonde highlights, but it's caused a compromise on my self-esteem a bit. So, I threw myself to the mercy of the girl at Sally's Beauty Supply who with her straight black hair has never experienced the shame.

"Please! I need your help!" I said as I busted through the door, pushing aside the ghetto-looking woman near the register. "My hair is green and I need to fix it."

"OK," the lovely clerk said, looking concerned. We scoured the shelves together and I poured out my heart about how I was living in this new house and I don't know when my hair turned green, but it definitely is and I need to fix it before my job interview. We looked at swimmer's shampoo, but still it just didn't seem right... then, there it was! Shampoo for people with well water that probably doesn't get maintained or purified just like the rest of the house! (OK I added that part)

So, now I've been showering at the Y for the last two days with my hard water/well water shampoo to prevent "build up of iron, copper and magnesium from well water." And, I've been asking everyone I;ve seen in the last two days if my hair is any less green. I asked Nat at my town council meeting to which he replied,
"Kate! Every time you see me, you ask me if your hair is less green! I refuse to be part of your green hair drama any more!"
I stuck out my lower lip and sighed. He didn't budge.

I think it's a little less green though.

Saturday, April 09, 2005

SORRY

After suffering through two straight days of migraines, I started to think that the problem was my allergies, or my sinuses, or my eyes or something else because, TWO DAYS??

Then I remembered. Here's where today's random memory comes in. I pulled out my pill pack and sure enough, Thursday's was still in the foil as was today's. Miss even one of those generic puppies and I get a migraine.

"SHIT! What day is it?!?"

Friday, April 08, 2005

Why bats are ruining my life

Top 10 reasons why bats are ruining my life:
1) Since they tweet all night, I have to keep the TV on to drown it out. Since I don’t have cable, I have to put on a DVD like Finding Nemo. I know all the words to Finding Nemo, so that keeps me up anticipating the next scene, and if I put on something I haven’t seen, I can’t sleep for fear of missing something good.
2) They give me one more reason to be scared of going outside.
3) They make the dogs bark.
4) I don’t know how to harvest guano and make money off them like in Ace Ventura 2.
5) I’m afraid to open the door for too long, because if one got into “House” I don’t know if I’d even cross paths with it again, depending on which way it turned.
6) {*Tap Tap*} is that a bat trying to get in the house? {*Bang Bang*} is that a bat flying into the window? {*Hump Hump*} … no, that’s just the dogs.
7) Every once in a while, they fall silent. Just one Adolf Hitler type keeps on preaching and next thing you know they are all roaring in appreciation again. And I wonder what they’re plotting.
8) Betsy said they might actually be cicadas. When my Weatherbug came on today and started chirping, I thought it sounded vaguely familiar. Oh, hell, just get me out of this damned house.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Dollywood here I come

Thanks if anyone was "Omm"ing to Nashville... it worked.

They will be flying me out in two weeks for a day and a half worth of interviews. Can you believe there is someone who is "flying me out?" I'm not used to anyone but my mom footing that kind of bill. As a matter of fact, if I think back, there have been occasions where I have footed the bill for others during the course of biting off my nose to spite my face (but I still believe it was well worth the cost to go on that trip without Mr. Puertoriquenno).

Anyway, there are many people I am supposed to meet, one of which is the city editor who told me he was born in Pawtucket. Can ya believe that shit? Born in Pawtucket! Another is the head editor, who looks like an older, doofier version of my last sailor man. He's in the bag. Also, perhaps I'll meet George, my potential roommate whom i met on roommates.com when I started to think maybe this might happen. George is a PhD candidate at Vanderbilt in the pharmacology department (?) and, in an interesting twist of fate, is of Taiwanese descent.

I have to say, I have sat at this desk for well over two months staring at this quote Betsy sent one day. It's from AIDA.

"You don't like your fate? Change it! There are no shackles on you!"

Sometime after I wrote this out and stuck it to my desk, I decided to stay here another year. I've been kind of looking at it since then and wondering if I did the right thing, not knowing I had already lit the flame on this new course of action.

"You don't like your fate? Change it!"
I had my argument planned out. I could stay here another year rent-free and save money while becoming a better reporter and writer. Yet, I wondered if I was stagnating and staying here because it was easy.
"There are no shackles on you!"
Now I may have a chance to do something phenomenal and terrifying and so what I've been craving. I wouldn't know anyone and I'd have to make my own way; I would be thrown into a life where I really don't know what to expect. But, then again I've never known what to expect anyway. This time I'd just have to learn new highways.

I'll leave you this inspirational, somewhat sappy quote from Charles Du Bois after contemplating life beyond today.... "The important thing is this: to be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are for what we could become."

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Kill them, or take them to the vet?

OK, so I was feeling a little guilty about being at work alllll day and not getting home for the dogs. I knew they'd be crazy hungry since I fed them early this morning, but I seriously worked all day nonstop and I don't do that a lot. I expected them to pee on the newspapers and I planned to not even be mad about it, considering. But things never go quite as you plan them, do they?

I cleaned out that nasty little fridge the other day that Miss M used for some wierd combo of meats, non-alcoholic beer and very, very old produce. I put it all in a garbage bag on the other side of the garage, separated from the dogs' room by a door. I guess I forgot to close that door this morning, because I came home to ALL OF IT EVERYWHERE. Now, what I'm discussing is the following refuse:
  • What the Chinese call "100 Year Eggs"
  • A package of link sausage that Miss M probably bought at Job Lot (note: they have no freezer section)
  • Their peed on and shitted on newspapers from the last week or so.

They pretty much ate all that and still tried to bite off my face when I came in. Now, I screamed so effectively that even the one in heat dropped her stupid dog-vagina between her legs and put her head down guiltily. For once, the killer cat isn't on my shit list because he managed to wait for dinner instead of going out and finding it.

IN OTHER NEWS: I was at a wine tasting class today for a story, and there was this couple sitting in the back. From eavesdropping, I learned that Heather is very impressed by herself and her beau came in from Manhattan today, looking very dapper in a tailored suit. Now, they both reeked of money and snoot, and they were both amazingly perfect looking. I wonder, do amazingly perfect people succeed more easily or does being successful and well-dressed make one seem amazingly perfect? And if a tree falls in my neighbor's yard because of his chainsaw within 100 feet of a water source, does Miss M still run down the hill to sneak pictures for DEM with her digital camera? Discuss amongst yourselves.

Ommmmm

OK, here's what we need to do. I need everyone to join me in sending a telepathic message to Nashville, Tennessee. Shut your eyes, open your mouth (stop peeking, this isn't going where you think it's going you dirty slut!) and repeat after me:

CALL KATE, CALL KATE, CALL KATE- HIRE KATE, HIRE KATE, HIRE KATE.

At least if you miss the editor, maybe you'll hit Dolly Wood and I can work as an impersonator. I already have the... voice.

Monday, April 04, 2005

Too much time on our hands

[notice she doesn't even say hello]

BetsLeigh82: blog
ericasue: already there my friend, already there
BetsLeigh82: thank GOD
ericasue: in the process of commenting
BetsLeigh82: i love comments, they are better than posts i feel
ericasue: they can be
ericasue: I am a comment whore
BetsLeigh82: haha me too
ericasue: i think we have way too much time on our hands - you, me, and kate
ericasue: we need to get erica on here more
ericasue: and some other 20 narry folks
ericasue: we need to spread the good word
BetsLeigh82: i know it
BetsLeigh82: we just need to be careful, because people we write about might find it!
ericasue: like joe lamastro?
BetsLeigh82: ha
BetsLeigh82: he can find it and go right to hell
ericasue: LOL
BetsLeigh82: and you can post me on that

And they call ME a horny bitch

In all my disdain when I realized these fucking dogs get their periods, I forgot the other key part to being in heat.
The damn dog keeps humping its mother.
Poor Elsa, who is so old she walks while shitting, keeps running around the house trying to get away from Poor Tara, who can't stop humping even when there's nothing there. She's air-humping, just wandering around in a squatted position till she happens upon something humpworthy. Don't they know they're related and doesn't Tara know she doesn't have a dick?
Also, if only dolphins and humans have sex for pleasure, that doesn't mean they're the only animals who have pleasure in sex, does it? Does anyone really care? I don't, I just want the dog to stop humping everything.

Animal updates-
Bats: still fucking tweeting. I threw a rock at the bushes where all the noise is coming from to see if anything flew out, but apparently nobody was bothered by my lame throw.
Cat: Fred "The Killer" has taken a hiatus on the mice and seems to only be eating Whiskers.
Dogs: In the words of the Divine Miss M, "quite horrrrny animals"
Pokey the tortoise: loves the broccoli

"House" updates-
Landlady status: The Divine Miss M is still in Paris. Apparently Zup is flying out to meet her there, so no need to prank call his house this month. Also, discovered interesting love letter from Zup to Miss M during routine, three-hour snooping session with Jenn this weekend. It goes a little something like this (highly condensed version), written carefully on the worst construction paper heart I've ever seen:
"Every roe has got her buck,
And every dumb its cluck.
Every up has got its chuck,
And every rink its puck.
SO every cock has got its suck,
and every nip its tuck.
Won't you be my February ___ ?"
As if that's not disturbing enough: Apparently she refers to me in correspondence with friends as "Kennel Girl"
Fridge: I have commandeered it and taken all of Miss M's vitamins out. Kava kava be damned, I need room for my Laughing Cow cheese.
Hair: highlights are slightly green tinted on account of the well water, I think. Suggestions solicited.

Sunday, April 03, 2005

Oof.

SO, call me Erica, but I've done something stupid.

I was pumping gas and trying not to mess up my freshly painted nails, so of course I dropped the gas pump, spurting fuel around. By the time I got that hose under control, I was glad to be a nonsmoker decided I wasn't wet and flammable and I got on my way. Upon my arrival back at "House," I started gathering the million bags I always come back from Warwick with and my pocketbook felt awfully light. Then, it all came flashing back.

I always put my wallet on the trunk when I use my credit card to pump gas,
and in all that hose commotion, I forgot to take it with me back in the car.

So, like any good Salve girl, I called my daddy and begged him to go look for it, since I was now 45 minutes away from Warwick. Thank God he responded with concern and not the "what the hellll do you want me to do about it" that I usually expect. In the meantime, I was greeted by snapping hungry dogs that make NO attempt to NOT pee in the house, and what has to be a dozen fruity bats howling in the trees next to my front door. Who am I, and what am I doing here?

I did what anyone in my position would do. Screamed frivolously out the door at the bats to shut the fuck up, told the dogs I hate them and cracked open the last Smirnoff when I realized that I can't even watch the fucking Red Sox opener because I LIVE IN THE WOODS AND I HAVE NO CABLE.

Don't worry, though, at least one of my problems is solved because, like a good Daddy, my father found my wallet on Veterans Memorial Boulevard. Imagine if I had to cancel my nearly maxxed credit cards.

Friday, April 01, 2005

super Zen Posted by Hello
oh we were moooooving oooouuut Posted by Hello
HOLLA ATCHA GURL Posted by Hello

NOOOOOO

Well, here we are. Me and my roomie bizzles all three spooning on my big bed in a glorious reunion. Well, we aren't spooning per se, because Erica refuses to ignore her callls she BIIIT MEEEEE
ooooooooow
they both bit me!

for those of you who don't know, if i'm not getting bit or getting sucked on it a manner that gives me unusual hickeys, my roomie bizzles are not satisfied

DjMouth1212: watch out they bite
DjMouth1212: =-O

also,

Kate H 11307: well me and my roommatres and costa are all in my bed right now is that a good start?
Scuji81: thats what I like to hear .
Okay folks how about another Newport Reunion?

Granted I know it's a little last minute and that many of you were there for St. Patty's Day. I was waiting to hear from a friend about her engagment party but apparently now it will not be there until the end of May or maybe not even until next fall. I CAN'T WAIT THAT LONG!

So which is a better weekend for everyone?
1.) April 22-24
2.) April 29-May 1
3.) Other

Ask around and get back to me and hopefully I will book a ticket (and hotel rooms?) this weekend.