Goodthings

Hi friends.

I'm sorry I haven't been around much....I honestly haven't even been home much! I just wanted to check in and say hello to my blogfriends and tell you that I miss you. And that I really, really hope that you'll stick with me.

In lieu of a real post, I'll make a list of a few awesome things lately...

1. Spending time with family at my parents' cabin. Beautiful weather, fun conversation, screaming at cold lake water, and eating tasty snacks.

2. Yoga on Tuesday nights and the long talks that always result afterward.

3. Zipping up a skirt that didn't fit a while ago. . .

4. Sticking to my no-pop (soda to most of y'all) decision. I still miss pop, EVERYSINGLEWAKINGMOMENT, but my stomach appreciates it and ... amazingly, I'm even more energetic.

5. Sobe Lifewater, Blackberry Grape flavor.

6. Catching up with a childhood friend today over lunch. It was fun and easy and looking forward to doing it again.

7. Realizing that I have learned something lately.

On the other hand. I still miss Michael.

Don't Stop Til You Get Enough

Today, the world lost perhaps the finest entertainer we have ever known.

I lost my first love.

Michael Jackson.

As a child, Michael was real to me. He visited me at home, we ate peas at the dinner table together, we danced around the living room--my mom even left him in the car once when we went grocery shopping. It elicited a screechy "Mom! You left Michael in the car!!!" She dutifully turned around, opened the back door, and let Michael out, lest anyone in the parking lot think she was locking a little brother in the car on a hot day.

I remember seeing Michael Jackson moonwalk on TV for the first time, his glitter glove aglow. I remember digging my hand into a bag of popcorn, completely enthralled. My boyfriend was on the teevee! And he floated! The man may go down as the greatest dancer in history.

My brother brought home the 13-minute VHS tape of Thriller, thinking I'd be overjoyed. What I remember is sitting in front of our giant floor TV set (which made that signature ga-thunka, ga-thunka sound when you twisted the dial), hands over my eyes (but still peeking a little), screaming, "That's not my Michael! He wouldn't scare me like that!" Of course, subsequent viewings of the mini-movie thrilled me, like most people, to no end.

I am still the first person on the dance floor when those first bass lines begin to groove on Billie Jean. I unapologetically love We Are the World, Bad, Dangerous, Leave Me Alone. I love him without irony. Throughout his scandals, the disappearance of his face, his strange, sad publicity grabs, I still thought he was one of the most talented people alive.

I feel sad for him. Being the most famous person in the world for at least a decade—a decade of excess, no less—must be lonely. Despite his fame, he always had this melancholy air, this arrested development. Someone worked himself to death, adoring millions, but still feeling fundamentally misunderstood.

The man in the mirrored aviator glasses, military jackets, highwater pants (only he could make those cool), and the glittery glove. The man whose hair caught afire during the filming of a Pepsi commercial. He brought us the bizarre, the spectacular, the sublime. The man who completely overdelivered on his moniker, fulfilled his title as the King of Pop.

His genius made him unreal, untouchable. We stayed home when he launched new worldwide singles. (I particularly remember Black or White.) Everyone was always talking about him the next day, but fame took a toll. He was obviously, seriously mentally ailing. Eventually, we saw less and less of the genius, and more and more of a man in need of help. A sad genius recluse, looking more and more like a freakish wax statue, bankrupted financially and socially.

When I saw TMZ was reporting his cardiac arrest, I thought. It's not possible. It's not real. Then I thought, he'll be OK. Then I thought, uh-oh, number 3.

Tonight, I imagine him walking up the stairs to a great forever, each step alight as his foot touches it, a little further away from us mortal beings.

I don't want to think of it as it is: A mere slip of his former self, he died uneventfully. Like most of us.

Edited to add: After I wrote this, I saw this article at NPR. I wish I had written it.

This is a Call to All My Past Resignations

So many things happening all at once!

As my life has seemed to become more inundated with things to do, I've let a few pounds sneak up on me.

It's been a shock...and a blow to the ol' ego. Up until probably a few years ago, I couldn't GAIN weight. Now it seemes here to stay, even though I eat a pretty healthy diet. (Very little fast food, I love fruits and veggies.) I probably eat too much cheese, but I've cut back on that.

On a bad day I'm about 12 to 15 lbs heavier than I was last year at this time. There could be reasonable explanations for this:

• I spent the winter working my butt off on freelance...but that meant a LOT of sitting on the couch and writing after sitting at work all day. (And snacking).
• I was diagnosed with IBS and began taking medication for it...which could account for the weight gain, not only as a side effect of the drug, but also because of reasons I'm sure the internet does not want to read about. So. I'll leave it at that.
  
• My metabolism is slowing down...I am 28.5 years old now. (Although it's been screwed since I turned 19 and acquired hypothyroidism). I was slow the last time I went to the doctor, so my meds were switched up a bit, but losing the weight isn't as easy as it was to gain, even if it wasn't my fault.

Here's the thing. I hate exercise. Seriously. I have been taking a belly dance class every Saturday for the last few months, which is two hours and a good workout. I'm glad I've taken it. I'll resume after the summer rush is over. I'm also taking a yoga class, and I like doing that a lot. It's a hour of stretching and core muscle building.

So I have to find ways to try and work my body every day. Some current ideas:

• Walking Molly at a fast clip
• using our gym in our building (weights, elliptical)
  
• buying Jillian Michaels' 30 Day Shred... (I need to actually DO that, though).
• cutting waaaaay back on pop (I am about a can-a-day girl, I'm trying to cut that back further. And NO, I will not drink diet pop. Life's too short. I'd rather only have one a week than one a day with that awful diet aftertaste.

But here's my thing. I need YOU, internet.

• What are some of your least-hated workouts?
• Healthy meals? (Vegetarians, I'd love your input here, as our Farmers' Market is kicking into high gear and I love buying fresh produce there!)
• How do you stay on the workout wagon?
  
• What are songs that ALWAYS put you in a good mood, rev up your energy, and keep you going when all you want to do is plop down on the couch with a pound of goat cheese and a spoon (or whatever your vice of choice may be)?I'm not a music snob in the sense that I won't listen to Top 40, but I like other smart dance songs, like the recent Yeah Yeah Yeah's Heads Will Roll?

It's time to take charge, friends. I'm up high enough that I can't fit in a lot of last summer's clothes. Help me.

Erase Replace

OK. I was planning on making a little more dramatic re-entry from haitus than this, but you know me. . . time goes by, then boom! Kat's mad about discontinuing products!

Here's the thing. There is one, and only one, truly great undereye concealer out there. And it's not even expensive! It's Max Factor's Erace.

Look, I have really dark undereye circles, even when I get a lot of sleep. I'm pale, so you can see all my dark veins. It sucks.

I have tested many, many different creams, tubes, and sticks. And Erace is the one for me. And many others. And I know some people are totally hooked on 2000 Calorie Mascara, but I'm a L'Oreal Voluminous girl until the end of time.

I do not know what I will do without my precious Erace. I will look like one tired girlfriend, that's for sure. I have til 2010 to stockpile. Hope there's a lot of preservatives in those babies!!!

--One more week of hectic schedule, then I should be back on the blogging track.

Treading Water

This week is a marathon, y'alls, a marathon. Sorry for my relative absence around here. I do miss mah bloggins. But there's just A Lot going on around here, and I'm having trouble juggling it all.

William is in an art show this weekend, I have lots o' work going on, and lots of little errands. Plus one of my BESTEST FRIENDS IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD CAME HOME FROM THE PEACE CORPS. So it's been busy.


Stay tuned for regular programming.

Cranky

Just in case you were wondering, I'm really crabby and hate everything today.

Which means I have absolutely no business blogging. I'm liable to say just about anything.

Pandemic

For once in my life, I'm SO GLAD I don't live anywhere near Mexico. I embrace my frozen tundra of a home, where even viruses have the presence of mind to live elsewhere.

Also, I hate that this is all blamed on the pigs. Pigs are cute. Intelligent. And one of the only animals that can get sunburned, and I can get with that. One thing bad about pigs? I love pork. Bacon. Can't think about the two. Must keep separate.

And now, a swine flu haiku:

bacon, i love you
staying healthy is awesome
no armageddon

Carry on, with your surgical mask.