super awesome single people

This is first image that comes up in Google when you type in "sad single people."

Thursday night while sitting on her couch in a food coma and distracted by 30 Rock, Maura convinced me to go to "a singles event." Now, what is a singles event, you might ask? Well, join me on this journey and you will find out.

Friday night I met some lady friends at the Slaughtered Lamb where we had a pre-singles event beer to calm our nerves and get the collective "are we really going to do this?" out of our systems. From there we mosied on over to Alibi in the West or Greenwich village (I still don't know the difference, I don't think I'll ever know the difference) for the "event." Walking in, the bar was empty and we were informed by the bartender that the other sad, single people were in the back room. There was a tinge of judgement in her voice, mixed with a look that said "I'm sorry you're so lonely that you're subjecting yourself to this."

Undeterred, we walked into the small, cavernous back room where we were met by Mike, our "leader" for this mingle and about 6 other sad, single people. Mike greeted us warmly, invited us to have a seat and started the introductions. Sandra, Mike, some guy from Queens who had a wedding ring on, an lady wearing scarves, Matthew, another women who looked angry and Adam all greeted us. I took my seat next to Adam and after a few minutes of exchanging pleasantries, I had learned he was an engineer, lived in Hoboken, went to Wash U, refused to give money to Wash U, liked to drop F-bombs, had a brother who went to Harvard, didn't like that his brother gave money to Harvard, hated St. Patricks Day but still wished he was Irish and was on the Autistic spectrum. He didn't divulge the Autistic part but I'm pretty keen on picking it up in strangers.

At this point, having added nothing to the conversation, I excused myself to go into the bathroom and twitter and text and check my email. I also used this time to figure out how we were going to escape.

Eventually, I returned and after another ten minutes of pleasantries and contemplating how a life of singledom really does not seem so bad by comparison, we gathered by the door plotting our exit. Quickly we gathered our coats in our hand and as we turned to leave I heard, "So, you're fucking leaving?" Slowly, we turned around to see Adam standing behind us wide-eyed and with a curious look on his face. We awkwardly explained that we had other plans and just stopped by for a drink. Then, something strange happened. One by one, Adam held out his hand to shake ours goodbye. Starting with Kate, as soon as his hands clasped hers, he awkwardly lunged forward as if to kiss her on the mouth. Startled, she leapt back. He did the same thing to Maura and by the time he got to me, I had locked my elbow and raised my left hand to block him in case he lunged at me, too. He did and the resulting move was a mixture of a bear hug and an arm wrestle during which I just kept saying, "Alright, buddy, take care."

Eventually, we escaped and walked outside into the fresh air of freedom. After a few moments of shaking our heads and giggling, we gained our composure and began our walk to a nearby piano bar. It was then the Maura realized she had left her umbrella inside. After of contemplating whether or not she should just leave it or risk another awkward Adam encounter, she decided to go back into retrieve it. As I watched her walk in I just kept thinking "I'm so glad I'm not her right now."

i'm addicted to organic party mix.

For the past few birthday's and Christmases, I have been given gifts that fall into a very specific category: the domestication of Katie. Here is a brief list of things I've been given over the past few years:
- a steam mop.
- numerous cook books
- a toaster
- a blender
- a gravy-stained lace tablecloth
- Martha Stewarts Housekeeping Handbook (which I have consulted for two things: cockroaches & mildew)

For my birthday my parents gave me this:


(I asked for it.)

Since yesterday, I've been in a sewing frenzy, hemming pants and fixing the hole in the armpit of my black dress that's been there since Sonic Youth this summer. I also made this:


So this domesticity overload has gotten me wondering how all of this happened. This time last year I was running around, going out every night, seeing a bazillion shows and gallery openings and other ridiculous events. I was NEVER home. But, for the past few weeks, I have been sitting in my apartment, knitting and drawing and baking and cooking and, now, sewing (and rather ironically, sewing something I can wear while baking... in my apartment). WHO HAVE I BECOME? Hopefully this will be alleviated by the coming spring weather.

FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS

Growing up with a rabid football fan is hard. They jump around and scream and cry and get really bummed out and basically have there entire mood on Monday determined by whether or not there team wins on Sunday. Coming from this background, the last thing I want to do is watch a show about football. But then, about a year ago, my mom started to rant and rave about Friday Night Lights. Then, various friends started telling me "you have to watch it, it's amazing." Unmoved by their pleas, I continued my non-FNL life until one day in a moment of divine inspiration I added it on my Netflix queue and my life was forever changed. It's my favorite show ever. Even more than the X-Files (which if you knew me from 1994-1999 then you know that's a pretty strong statement.)

My top six reasons Friday Night Lights is the best show ever.

1. Because it has Tim Riggins.
Caroline said it best, "It's hard to have a crush on a fictional character."

This phenomenon is unlike any other. It's not a typical actor crush. Let me break it down: I would go see anything that Gael Garcia Bernal is in because I have a crush on HIM. Most of the boys I know would go see anything that Scarlett Johansson is in because it's HER. With Tim Riggins, that's not the case. I don't even know the actors name because I could care less about him. It's the 17 year old football player who lives with his brother in Dillon, Texas I love. And Caroline loves. And my mom loves (This summer my mom actually confessed to having a dream about Tim Riggins where he drove up in his truck to my parent's house and kissed her. Gross.)

2. Because at least once an episode I cry and I laugh and I smile and I go "Aww."
Every. Single. Episode. It touches on what it is to care about something and someone and how it can consume you while you're simply working away at Applebee's or on a used car lot.

Goosebumps: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-MbgIgPQcY&feature=related

Last week it was during a scene between Matt Saracen and Coach Taylor where in his perfectly 17 year old way, Matt said ""I'll sit on your bench. I'll come to practice and do whatever you want me to do, but I'm gonna hate it, and you're gonna hate it."

3. Because of the music.
When you're opening credits have Explosions in the Sky and you had your State Champs riding on a float down Main Street while "Devil Town" was playing, you're off to a good start.

4. Because I think that if I watch it, that will be enough to keep it on the air forever.

5. Because in the way of Arrested Development and Family Guy (the first time), it will probably end before it's ready and that makes every episode a sweet, delicious treat.

6. Because deep down, I think everyone wonders what it would be like to live in a small town in Texas where football is life.

i'd like to fork edward

...But not really.

So another Valentine's Day has come and gone. I spent my February 14th on Staten Island and most of the early morning of February 15th trying to get home.

I've been meaning to write this post for a few weeks now. It's particularly pressing today because I'm about to watch the movie and I want to get this written before my thoughts are tainted by Robert Patterson's cheekbones. Now, I'm not one for literary crazes (except, I am, considering I've read every Oprah book, Pillars of the Earth and the occasional Harry Potter) but I decided to read Twilight after going on a bachelorette weekend where I was promised at least one vampire-sex dream. Well I did not have any sex dreams that week but I did have a TERRIFYING NIGHTMARE ABOUT VAMPIRES CHASING ME.


So I bought it at the bookstore and spent the next week trying unsuccessfully to hide the cover from my neighbors on the subway. I read it voraciously, I couldn't get enough and when I finally read the last page and put the book down it hit me: I hated Twilight. HATED it. Why? Well, let me explain.

1. It was written by a middle-aged Mormon housewife. Now I have nothing against the middle-aged, Mormons (except I do take exception to two lapsed Mormons who tried to drug me in Salt Lake City but that's neither here nor there) or housewives. I DO however have something against a middle-aged Mormon housewife who, in an attempt to rationalize her own submissive sexuality, writes a book about a domineering, sometimes cruel vampire (Edward) and the dumb, passive girl (Bella) whose blood he craves and with whom he starts a relationship. I also have a problem with this middle-aged Mormon housewife then marketing her book to tween-aged girls.

A few small examples of Edward's controlling behavior:
"You paid attention," he smiled approvingly.
"Are you going to tell Charlie I'm your boyfriend or not?" he demanded.
"Put on your seatbelt" he commanded.
"Are you okay?" (Bella) asked. "No," he said curtly, and his tone was livid.

A. No teenager smiles approvingly. Teenagers are, by nature, completely disapproving of pretty much everyone including their significant others.
B. No 17 year old boy in the history of the world has DEMANDED that his girlfriend tell her estranged father that they are now a couple. Oh wait, I think that has happened in EVERY single Lifetime movie about an abusive boyfriend (I'm talking to you Johnny Galecki).
C. No teenager commands another teenager to put on her seatbelt. That's why insurance rates are so high. Duh.
D. Just the fact that the middle-aged, Mormon housewife wrote the words "curtly" and "tone" and "livid" in the same sentence really pisses me off.

I know what everyone is thinking "but he's a Vampire, he's OLD, he's not a teenager." This adds a whole other layer of creepiness to the equation. If this guy is 109 years old and he's dating a 16-year old, isn't that's the definition of a pervert? And shouldn't we be discussing her obvious daddy issues rather than celebrating them? (In her defense, the middle-aged Mormon housewife does touch on the daddy thing by making Bella's dad Charlie an absent, clueless father).

2. As I mentioned earlier, it gave me NIGHTMARES. I read the part about the tracker chasing Bella right before I went to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night, adrenaline pumping convinced that a Vampire was about tracking me. I'm a 25 year old woman.

3. The sparkles. So, middle-aged Mormon housewife (from here on out I will be abbreviating as M-AMH) you expect me to believe that when this vampire goes out into the sunlight, he SPARKLES? Well played, M-AMH, well played. You've officially crafted a multi-million dollar fortune by writing a book about a vampire with sadistic sexual undertones who SPARKLES.

So basically it goes like this:



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So that's my Twilight rant.

Also, sidenote. When I googgled "sadism and masochism" to get the leather whip pic, this picture came up: