Medical Emergency!

So, does anyone in the Filthy and Gorgeous posse know how to remove a condom that is embedded in one's deep cavernous hole? If so, I have a...ahem, friend, that desperately needs to know how. UPDATE!!!! 3 PM. Crisis has been averted and I...er my friend has not appreciated the comments regarding her vagina being the Bermuda Triangle or some sort of intergalatic worm. No, your missing socks are not located within its realm. It has been returned to it's former foreign body free zone.

Crack head weekend

So I am down. I am very very down. I rarely get depressed but this last weekend, I did not leave my house. I wore the same "Chicago" shirt and sweat pants all weekend and ate nothing but carbs. Seriously, Friday I ate Mac and Cheese, mashed potatoes, stuffing and cornbread for lunch. I came home and ate a box of croutons for dinner. I made a batch of brownies, and ate them all. Pretty much kept the pace for the rest of the weekend. I find solice in carbs. I watched reality TV all weekend and knitted. I had plans with Boy Gorgeous Saturday night and met him at the grocery store to pick up some wine. He suggested we go out instead until I unzipped my jacket and he saw the "Chicago" shirt, with tooth paste dripped down the front, some rice caked on and a big coffee stain on my belly area. "Jesus Kat, you look like a crack head!!" He did drag me out for dinner, but I insisted on coming home directly from the restaurant. Admittedly, I was not much fun. Saw San Fran last week when he was in town for business. It was OK. I have a date with Skeptic tonight. He is making me dinner. I have requested fish sticks and tater tots (more carbs!!). He seemed stoked that I am so low maintenance. Ultimately, my itch is here (imagine me reaching out with my left hand to it's extreme extension) and my scratch is over here (mirror image with my right hand). My emotional needs are not being met and I see no relief in sight. I wish dating was like knitting, all the little "v"s stacked neatly on top of one another. By following a pattern you know you are creating something long lasting and will fit. There is something very graceful and poetic about the repetition and predictability of knitting. Perhaps that is why I am clutching my needles and holding on for dear life. It is one thing that I can control.

ch-ch-ch-changes

Dating as you get older really sucks. I am thinking about this a lot as my birthday is just around the corner. I squandered my youth. I was oblivious to the power a hot, tight bodied twenty year old possesses. My last heartbreak, when the Cracker (my age, out of shape...OK pudgy guy) dumped me for a uber hot 22yr old actress. Rubbed my nose into this fact and crushed me. My skin isn't as elastic at it used to be, nor are my joints.....literally limping around since my last weekend of shagging. What scares me is how rigid I have become with my life. I just want things my way....I don't want to be beholden to anyone. Our quirks and idiosyncrasies become more defined and refined as we age. I haven't lived with anyone for over five years. Am I capable of sharing a space with another person at this point? If so, is he? Mantits was so entrenched in his misogynist bullshit that toward the end I told him he should run for president of the He Man Woman Hater's Club. That is not going to change. The Psycho wanted to surf filthy porn morning noon and night. That is not going to change. The Jew whined, a lot. That is not going to change. I like/need the WHOLE closet. That is not going to change. Are those of us who are 30 somethings (perpetually 29 in my case) and still single doomed to die alone? Maybe the better question is how do we stay open and agile? Unfortunately, my heart isn't as forgiving as it used to be in my misspent youth. Every time I try to bounce back it changes ever so slightly.

Happy Valentines Day!

I got a dozen roses delivered for Valentine's Day!! Quite beautiful and for a brief second, I was hopeful they were from San Fran apologizing for his asinine behavior last weekend. They were from my mom.

maybe if I change my wardrobe.....

SFAR

Back from San Fran. Think I am going to clear the decks and start filling my pipeline from scratch after this weekend. I have found that dating an alcoholic is a double edged sword......it is fun when he is drinking and whispering all of the flowery boyfriendy type things in my ear; (IE. I am beautiful, he is lucky to be with me, he is going to marry me.) It is not so cool when he is dropping his pants in a club, hitting street signs and threatening to have the cab driver leave me at the curb in the rain in "anywhere" San Francisco. When sober, he gives me a blank stare (no emotion at all behind his glance.) We don't have much to talk about. He seriously could not get rid of me fast enough yesterday (had his door open and seat belt off before he had pulled up to the curb and stopped the car at the airport.) He is what the Doc would call SFAR (single for a reason.) This begs the question am I SFAR? I very well may be; I smoke, I like to party, I have a lot of hot male friends, I have two unruly dogs (that will punch any newcomer male in the junk), I knit. Nuff said. I think most of all the fact that I am smart and want a relationship makes me SFAR and scary to most men. SFAR sounds like a horrid medical affliction and sometimes it feels like it is. Is there a mask you can wear to defend yourself against this evil disease? (or better yet, in my case, a pill you can take to rid yourself of it.) This reminds me of the last time I was at my gyno and he asked me what I was doing for birth control. I told him it was unnecessary, yet he pressed on with "the talk" about being responsible reproductively until I was forced to lay it all on the line and say, "Dr. K, I find my personality is all the birth control I will ever need." He didn't laugh. Perhaps the mask I currently wear as the Dating Misanthrope is hindering my quest for a relationship. As Chelsea Handler says, "I just want a serious two, maybe three week relationship." Is that really too much to ask for? I have read all of the books and am no closer to having the answers on how to date than I had prior to reading them. Maybe I should go on a man fast until I decide which "me" I will share with the male outside world. I am tired of being the "cool guy girl" that just rolls with every shitty experience I have with men thus excusing their behavior and blatant disregard for any woman's feelings. More specifically, mine. It is not cool. It is not OK. I AM NOT AN ANIMAL!! I am a woman, an awesome woman that deserves an awesome man. What does that mask look like? Maybe I should look in my *magic* mirror to find it.

Who needs reality tv when you live it

I have been in a perpetual state of "red alert" since Sunday. What I mean is, I have been messed with by a clit tease. I now know what it is like to be a man and CONSTANTLY be thinking about sex. A new form of terrorism.......and now I suffer with my own personal "G"ihad. It was supposed to happen Sunday....did not. Was supposed to happen Tuesday...did not. Was supposed to happen tonight...will not. He is Lucy, and I am Charlie Brown having the football pulled away from me at the last minute. Repeatedly. Physically, it is not unlike when you REALLY have to pee, and you are doing fine until you get close to the bathroom and then the desire increases ten fold and you are unsure if you are going to make it. That is me right now thanks to Skeptic. We spoke on Monday night and the conversation went something like this; Skeptic, "You like reality TV right?" Kat, "Why yes, I love it." Skeptic, "Change of plans for Thursday, one of my coworkers is on Survivor Fiji and she is having a party to kick off the season." (Are you thinking what I was thinking? I was thinking he was asking me to go to the party with him.) Skeptic, "So, can we hook up earlier so I can go?" To quote Charlie Brown, "ARGHHH!!!" Skeptic claims to be horny too. To quote Osama Bin Laden, "he accused me of having his malady, then snuck away." Rarely have I been turned down for sex so I cry bullshit to his claim of hornyness (while shaking my fists at the sky). Fortunately, the weekend is creeping up on me and I shall celebrate by going to San Fran and working out some of this frustration. He has NO idea what he is in for. I am in a "whorey" war and I intend to die fighting.

Are you looking at me you cheeky boys?? XOXOXO Betty

I'm baaaack

Been a little bit since I posted. Just going to ramble about the last month or so and the goings on so please, buckle up and bear with me......have been seriously dating San Fran. He was in town a couple weeks ago throwing red flags left and right. He is good looking. He is smart. He makes good money. He likes to party. A lot. Not necessarily a bad thing but I am not sure how I feel about dating someone that cannot handle their alcohol as well as I do (those of you that know me are saying a communal, Uh Ohhhhhh right now). The last night he was in LA was interesting...the Bears vs. Sea Hawks game (he is originally from Seattle and broke up with me roughly six times during the game). We went to the Fox and Hound, he started drinking early.....I did not. Bears win!!! (insert Bears fight song here) and we ended our day at the Green Frog. He was buzzy, but in a cute way. Initially. We were talking to a couple of guys at the bar. Nice guys, cool and interesting. One was a casting agent, and of course I asked him if he could make me a star. Anyway, San Fran got increasingly fucked up and began, how shall we put this, um....acting out. Started saying stuff about how we were going to go home and fuck. He loves me. He is going to marry me. ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME??? WANT A PIECE OF THIS?!?!!??! At one point he lost track of his drink and climbed up on the bar....now mind you he is a big and muscly guy. I grabbed his arm and literally braced myself against the bar by planting my feet on the base and throwing my ENTIRE body weight backward while pulling on his arm. I got him down. Phew. He did it Again!!! Sweaty and exhausted from my struggle, I asked for the bill so we could get out of there. The casting agent said, "So, where did you meet this guy? The Internet?!!??" Har DE har...we all had a good laugh and I paid the tab and left. San Fran was hammered but wanted more alcohol and insisted we stop at the liquor store on the way home. I stayed outside and had a smoke until an inordinate amount of time seemed to pass and I surmised I should go inside and see what the hell (could be anything at this point in my mind) was going on. I walked inside to find the clerk arguing with San Fran about his purchases, he was buying non alcoholic beer. The clerk, I assume accessing his inebriation, was arguing FOR alcoholic beer.....once again, only in LA my friends.....I cleared up the error and we began the short walk home. At one point, San Fran stepped into a mud puddle and started fighting with it. "Don't you know who I am?!?!?!? How DARE you!! I am San Fran!" Honestly, I would like to say that it was a first for one of my paramours to fight with an inanimate object....but sadly it is not. We FINALLY get back to my place, and now San Fran is feeling randy. He aggressively shoved his hand down my pants and I shut him down. I later referred to this as his attempt at making meatloaf. Ow. At this point, he pulled the Donald Trump on me and told me, "You're Fired!!" Done. If I wouldn't do it with him that was it. Deep sigh. No. Go to bed. I know you won't remember this tomorrow. And he didn't. I did. I am going to visit him next weekend. What is wrong with me? He is GU (geographically undesirable) and crazy when he drinks. But he is fun. And hung. Is this what it has come to? What is it about me that attracts this and makes it ok? Wonder why I have been quiet? Reflection is a solitary business. There is more from the last month....I just cannot go there tonight.

Sunday night

Sigh. Sunday night after an uneventful weekend. Had a blast with SC. Sarah, The Duke, John and some other folks Friday night. Sarah and I had quite a snootful by the end of the evening. Although I had a fun with some of the Filthy and Gorgeous posse, it was Little Guy night at the bar. I felt like Nero from that movie, with all the million Agent Smiths coming after him, and he jettisoned one after another. What is the attraction from Little Guys to me? I attempted to be at my most offensive to some of them in an effort to drive them off. On the contrary, it seemed to raise the stakes in their Little Guy game. What am I? Some large mountain to be conquered and the winner plants his Little Guy flag? (and what would that look like? I imagine a flea circus on my neither region, or lice.) My pat joke regarding Little Guys, (which I actually said to some of their faces Friday) is, they could go "up" on me. Does being an Amazon put me out of their league? In my mind, I would not want to be with someone that I would look ridiculous with. Do men consider that or is it more of a "size is a perceived value" thing? Supah size me!!!! I am a tall drink of milk to be sure. When I am with a man, I want to feel like I am with A MAN. Bigger, stronger, thicker. I wanna wrap my arms (and legs) around something more substantial than myself. Do Little Guys feel sexy dangling from my limbs like some weird monkey? Is it a thrill? I am a human jungle gym to be explored and swong upon? Bungee jump from my neck and have your feet still not touch the ground? I just don't get it. I would think it would challenge their masculinity to be with someone so much bigger than them. Maybe I should cruise for the Little Guys, and get a strap-on. I may be missing my calling. Hell, I will take two, they are small...........

Recommended Reading

Love LOve LOVE this book! Amy Sedaris mixes "old school" recipes for entertaining such as; Whiskey Dick's Hot Chicken Wings, I Remember the War Cube Steak, and Chicken Snatchatory (and lots of cocktail recipes too! mmmm, Lady Slipper) with advice on blind date don'ts; don't answer the door in a wedding dress and veil, he might not think you are joking. (I might not be Amy.) Cannot overlook the "how to" sections on giving yourself a breast exam, make a paper clip necklace, a plant holder out of old pantyhose and a sit-upon (all the former Girl Scouts 'member those.) and clean pee out of your mattress (I know someone who could use this tip! He knows who he is.) As she says in the introduction; "Even though the word "entertainment" is commonly used today, to me it sounds charmingly old-fashioned, like courtship or back-alley abortion." I suggest you all check this book out, fucking brilliant!!! I have to go now, must make myself a "Fuck it" bucket. I am SURE to land a husband with these neat-o tips! Ps. not to go all Lesbian again, but the pics of her covered in whipped cream with multi-colored Jimmies stuck all over is HOT and strangely festive! I will have to try that out sometime very very soon!

Check out her appearance on Letterman promoting the book....

Who's up for some New Year's fun boys? xoxox Betty

Back to the salt mines

I cannot believe I am back at work today. Got back late last night from my weekend in San Fran with San Fran. I had a wonderful time and didn't wanna come back. San Fran is oodles of fun and it was awesome pretending I had a boyfriend for a couple of days and having someone to kiss at midnight on New Years. He has it down too.....brushing the hair out of my eyes, the kiss on the forehead, putting his hand on the small of my back....the little tender things which I miss about being in a relationship. I am not sure where this will go as we do live 7 hours away from each other, but I will just roll with it and not over analyze (as I tend to do, OK, OBSESS is the better word. Nice to know that I could hop a plane and be a GF type in a little over an hour. Good to have that in my back pocket. On the plane on the way back, I met a Jew names Zvi. As you all know, I have mad shiksappeal and he was quickly drawn into my gentile web. He was charmed and although he is in a relationship, he said he had many male friends that would love to take me out. He already had one, Jacob, on the line by the time we got to baggage claim. He works fast! I know I am not the kind of girl you can set up, but I will roll with it and see what good ol' Zvi can pull out of his hat. I am not proud, desperate times....you know the rest. My resolutions revolve around self improvement. I have been acting like a college student lately, too many late nights getting retarded with my posse. I intend to do all those things that I suspect are on many of your lists, quit smoking, work out, save the children.......I hope we can all realize our dreams in 2007!!

I will survive

Post Christmas hangover.....too much partying, too much food, too much "quality" family time, too many bills. I blew so much cash I will have to date for food after this holiday season. Right now, I just want to sit and savor the silence of my single life in my squalid apartment. Initially, going into the holiday, I was sitting on the pity pot. I will admit, I was feeling sorry for myself that I would be, once again, single for another Christmas. Going downtown Chicago, watching couples hold hands and look at the department store windows only exacerbated my sense of isolation. A funny thing happened over my vacation, I got to hang out with my married friends. They are all more or less unhappy in their relationships and are living vicariously through me. One of my friends, Chip was questioning me about my "relationship intelligence" and determined that I am at least seven years away from being able to commit to anyone (his methodology was arbitrary, drunk and unscientific at best. I took this with a grain of salt.) One of my best friends took it a step further and questioned weather or not marriage is ever a desired outcome. These people have what I have been aiming for as my "golden ticket" and they are miserable. I am free. I am dating great men. I am having fun. I do not have to deal with men's fucked up bullshit. I kiss. I have amazing sex. Can it be that wrong? I do what I want, when I want. This is really making me sit down and take stock of my goals and objectives. What am I striving for here? I have great friends. I have a family that I cherish. I have men that love my company and take me out......I have mind blowing sex. Are we really meant to partner with one person? As I mulled that concept today while travelling back to LA I got three sets of digits en route. Maybe this was the gift I have been looking for all of my adult life. The realization that it is great to be single. My life doesn't suck. Among the many tangible gifts I lugged through ORD and LAX I brought a light and highly portable epiphany; I am in a great place. I hope my Filthy and Gorgeous posse knows how much I appreciate them on a daily basis. I don't have to wait for Christmas to receive presents, I am blessed every single day of the year. I love you guys. Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas my friends! I am going to Chicago today and will see many of you tomorrow! I hope your dreams for the future keep you at peace, Muah! Kat

Rebo

I just had a great idea for a movie. Instead of Rambo, our heroine is Rebo......super swashbuckling rebound queen. Of course she is about 5'9, Blond, perfect size C boobs....um, has a couple of dogs and likes red wine, a lot. Would be very difficult to cast this part......I MAY have someone in mind. Even feverish and somewhat inebriated, our heroine can overcome disappointment and fill her pipeline as a lesser woman could not do on her best day. Her secret weapon; long black eyelashes which make a whooshing noise as she bats them at her unsuspecting victim, rendering him unable to break gaze with her big blue eyes. She has him! She has a Shield of Innocence which makes her impervious to male superpowers such as the Mind Meld or Mind Control. The only way around the Shield of Innocence is with jewelry (preferably Tiffany) or expensive handbags (preferably Coach or Marc Jacob.) Rebo is a lover, not a fighter and uses words to magically entrance men into doing as she wants. She cannot be bothered to do any of that hands on, martial arts type superhero action. Hard to do when wearing platforms anyway. Any suggestions from the Filthy and Gorgeous posse on other superpowers, I er.....Rebo should possess?

All I Want.

Oh yeah, Joni Mitchell kind of day. It is advisable if you are male to tread lightly around me today. Just got off the phone with Virginia. We were supposed to have a "date" tonight, wine, candles and cam. Mind you, it IS Saturday night and he IS 2200 miles away, yet I agreed. I went to a customer Xmas party in Santa Barbara last night with Boy Gorgeous. Had a great time except we had to leave at 10pm because I was just too sick. He was spazzy when we got back to the room, continued to drink some wine from the Santa Barbara winery we picked up on the way, stripped down to his boxer shorts and leaped from his bed to mine, administering a WWF elbow hammer move thingy to me. He must have done this, as I BITCHED at him, ten times or more until he missed his intended landing pad and ended up on the floor, against the wall with his legs hanging at a weird angle in relationship to his body (ha ha, TOLD you so!) We got up, had breakfast and drove back to LA this am. We had fun. When I got home, I found an instant message on my computer from Virginia, where he told me he "had to move on" and he could tell things had changed since he shared some personal trauma he is experiencing and further,
Virginia (12/15/2006 9:33:35 PM): I have read your blog.......you seem to have things in order and know what you want...........reach for the stars baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you will get everything you desire.
Harrumph. I think this breaks with dating MANtality as I should have never shared the blog with him. Anyhoooo, I called him and we continued to get into it. At some point today, I started thinking WTF AM I DOING?!??! I am giving up flesh and blood men in order to have a "date" with someone I have never met and have been talking to less than a month (and I have to buy my own alcohol, pretty pricey endeavor for those of you that know me.) And what do you make of the blog comment? Ugh, retarded. Additionally, I am STILL sick....have a fever. I liken his BS approach to poking at an angry bear with a stick and expecting them to sing a show tune. Are men that stupid really?? Whatever the case, I think I need to take a step WAY back. If you are freaking out, do it on your own time. Especially if it is a four week, long distance, weird, Internet thing. Imagine how freaked out he would be in real life? It is actually raining here tonight, we do not have weather in So Cal. I shall enjoy this beautiful bottle of Sangiovese, listen to Joni pull at my heart strings punctuated by the raindrops on my roof as I contemplate slitting my wrists/lesbianism/life in the church.

I'm Burning Up

I apologize to the Filthy and Gorgeous posse for not posting for a few days, I have been sick. REALLY sick......I have had a fever of 102 and have not been able to swallow. I haven't eaten since Saturday night (I had BETTER have lost some lbs. or I will be PISSED!!) I got in to see the doc on Tuesday and got a throat culture (Boy Gorgeous queried if I had gonorrhea or chlamydia in my throat, what are friends for?) During this period it occurs to me how very very alone I truly am. As a single person, I think the time when the full implication of what this means is when you are sick. Schlepping to the doc, then to the pharmacy, then home to walk the dogs.....make my own tea. It is miserable. I am particularly vulnerable when I have a fever, and at one point I started sobbing at my seemingly hopeless situation, tears streaming down my face. I HATE this. In the meantime, my phone is ringing off the hook with invitations to go to San Fran this weekend to party with San Fran, meet Mr. Catt for dinner, meet the Actor at Mex for cocktails, go with Boy Gorgeous to the Clippers game, fool around with Skeptic (who said we must disengage if I cannot swallow, HA!), hang out with Sarah and Ashley. I am burning up with both a fever and jealousy that life goes on without me. Right now, I really really just want a Popsicle. Ugh. Long walk across the street to the grocery store. Think I will just stew in my juices and fantasize about having a loving man that would bring me some. I must be delusional with fever.........

Boy Gorgeous

Have I mentioned how much I love Boy Gorgeous? He was my date to my company Christmas party Saturday night in San Diego. A stressful start as we thought we were going to miss our train, but once settled in with several beers we relaxed and I got to enjoy his company. A lot of people think we are a couple as we interact with a level of comfort and intimacy usually reserved for bf/gf types. I tell him EVERYTHING, things I do not admit to anyone else. We chatted and drank the entire trip down the coast, quite beautiful as the train runs next to the ocean and the sun was setting. The party was fun, on a boat with dinner and a club. We were grossly over served, at one point BG laid his head down on the table. Of course, I fell getting out of the car back at the hotel, in front of my boss who has already told me I am single handedly raising the insurance rates for the entire company (Sissy has said, if she didn't know better, she would think I am the falling equivalent of a cutter.) Once in the room, I tore off my dress and went to bed. Boy Gorgeous said at one point, he opened his eyes and saw my boobs. Had the thought, oh those are Kat boobs, and went back to sleep. The next morning, he was uber bright and shiny as compared to my white, shaky hung over self. Annoying really. I got a call from a friend, San Fran who had extended his visit to LA and wanted to know if we could have dinner tonight. As I am digging around for my pants, BG is announcing to San Fran, Hey Kat, I can see your vag! Kind of hard to explain that to someone........ What I love the most about our friendship is we can run around naked in front of each other. We can share all of the good and bad secrets with one another. He has my back always, and sometimes a good view of my front too.

Wipe out, put out and get out!

Sage advice on how to handle a one night stand;


Remember to suck it forward kids!