Hey Hipster, you look great in orange!

Am I a hipster?  What is exactly is a hipster?  Am I too old to be a hipster?  Are you my mother? (I loved that book).

This weekend, I started reading Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut.  I started to question whether or not I was hip/smart enough to "get" this book after the first three chapters. I will preface this by saying that I had a margarita prior to starting this book, so that might have impaired my reading comprehension.  Then of course I started to question lots of things.  That's what I do.  Somehow I ending up questioning whether or not I could qualify as a hipster.  I'm pretty sure I want to be one.  Are they still taking applications?

In my quest to answer all of these pressing questions, I did some internet research.  Kathy loves the internet.  Urban dictionary has a very long definition of what a hipster is, you can read it here.  But these are the highlights: hipsters are progressive thinkers, who appreciate art, creativity, intelligence, and witty banter. They reject mainstream appearance and wear tight jeans, vintage clothing, and have messy hair.

After initial review, I think I might mentally be a hipster, but physically I'm still a prep....kinda.  Work Kathy dresses very preppy.  It's her thing.  I can't speak for Kathy, but I'm pretty sure she would call her style, "classic and polished."  Casual Kath, she can't be pinned down.  Sometimes she wears Run DMC shirts, sometimes old sorority shirts, and sometimes random sports shirts from teams she has no affiliation with. On a side note, when you throw on a Dodger t-shirt or a Tigers hat, you need to prepare yourself with relevant facts about said teams.   Because every now and again, a stranger will want to talk shop with you about those teams.  Good thing I'm a virtual wikipedia of useless sports knowledge.  I'm like a boy scout, always prepared.  But mainly, Kathy wears orange.  In fact, this week, I'm working orange into every outfit.  I'm paying homage to my Cowboys and their first game of this unforgettable football season.  Husband is wearing ASU gold all week.  We are a united front.

On that note, do hipsters follow sports?  If no, I'm out.

So, if I really want to be a hipster, I think the following things need to be accomplished:

1. I need a pair of hipster glasses.  I love them.  Next time I go to Arizona, I'm totally hitting up Urban Outfitters.  You want to know what's awesome?  My dad used to wear hipster glasses, in the 70s.  Looks like being cool just runs in the family.
2. I should probably read more.  Less Big 12 Blog on ESPN, more New Yorker and smart stuff.
3. I guess I should wear tight jeans.  Only problem? I'm no longer a pre-teen, so they don't look as cute on me as they do on the kids.  Is there an alternative?
4. Looks like I'm going to need to move.  According definition, lots of these hipster types live in Chicago.  I live in Oklahoma City.  As much as I want them to be the same, they are not.

Maybe my friend Beauty and I could just start our own little counterculture.  Probably the number one requirement would be wit.  I know!  We could be witsters.  Who's with me?

Wish I may, wish I might...



...Get the wish I wish tonight.  I have a few wishes/requests that I'd like to put out there to the universe, please do your part on getting my message to the masses.  Please, thank you, and tickles.  Just so you all know, I've started adding "tickles" to random phrases.  Not only is it fun and sun-shiny to say it, it also throws people off.  It's important to keep people on their toes.

I think we all know that my main wish is for OSU domination this football season, but I'll save that particular blog for right before the season starts.  I like to openly blog to the heavens/God.  But not in a blasphemous way.  So I will just let you know that my current wish is for it to be next week, RIGHT NOW.  This may be the longest month of my life.  Come on already September...what is the hold up?  I am honestly jonesing for football.  This weekend, the only sports on TV were replays of preseason NFL or Little League World Series.  How's a girl to choose?  Gross.  So I watched Billy the Exterminator.  Last night, while I was at a meeting, Husband texted me to let me know that Billy was chasing a javelina in Arizona.  That's how desperate things have become in our home.  Where is Doc Brown when I need him?  Maybe I'll just build a ginormous sling shot in my back yard and fling myself into next week.  Or maybe not.  I haven't decided.

My next wish is a serious one.  I wish that people wouldn't use Facebook as a way to complain, telemarket, and make insensitive political statements.  Why can't everyone just be funny?  Facebook should only be used to be funny and put up pictures.  Preferrably funny pictures.  All I ask is for you to stop and think, "Will this status update cause people to smile or frown?"  Aim for smiles.  Stop giving people wrinkles.  And just for good measure, add the phrase, "Go Pokes!" to the end of it.

And my final wish (because everyone knows you only get three) is for healthy food to be addictive and yummy.  Because currently, it is not.  How do I rewire my brain to think, "Yes!  Cauliflower!" instead of, "Yes!  Salt!"  I love salt.  It is one of my favorite things in the whole world.    Sometimes I dream about installing a saltlick in my office.  But then people would think I was crazy, and I've fooled you all for this long, might as well keep it up.  As we all know football season is 10 long days away, and I'm making a push to get into my best game shape.  Trying to get back down to my playing weight.  Just kidding, I just like to use that phrase.  My male coaching friends use it, and I don't like to be left out.  The last time I "played" a sport, not counting intramurals, was in 8th grade.  So I suppose my playing weight is rooted in 1993.  Looks like I'll need to get braces and a bad perm too...gosh, there's so much to do in only 10 days!  Remind me what my point was again?  Oh right, my wish for carrots and celery to be exciting.  How am I going to make this happen?  I need a one-on-one with Guy Fieri.  That guy makes some really dumb stuff seem exciting.

One more wish, for good measure...I wish this blog was more interesting/entertaining.  I had good intentions, but after rereading, I fell short.  I blame the carrots.

What my television taught me

Pretty low key weekend for Kathy and Husband.  We took advantage of not having too much going on, for once, and just kind of fatted around and watched a lot of television.  I think our lifestyle this weekend is what Michelle Obama is strongly against.  Sorry Shell...I'll "move" next weekend.

In all my couch sitting/TV watching, I made some observations.  After all, that is what I do best.

Observation #1: The state of Louisiana is confusing.  A true paradox.  First, there's the Louisiana I see in True Blood.  Sexy Louisiana.  Everyone is attractive...even the dead people.  Good guys?  Bad guys?  They are all pretty.  Well, with the exception of Marnie.  And for the record, I'm about done with her.  That witch be gettin' on my nerves.  Seriously, True Blood, makes me want to road trip to the Bayou State and find Jason Stackhouse.  And Alexander Skarsgard.  And Sookie, because she's a fairy.  A fairy and a barmaid, that's fun.

And then there's Billy the Exterminator.  Not so sexy.  Super disturbing.  What is going on with the wildlife in that state?  You have animals there that I've never heard of, such as nutria.  What is that?  It's like a beaver rat.   Not the most ideal combo.  Honest to God, the things that are invading people's home on this show are very upsetting to Kathy.  You guys should really think about moving.  And then there is Billy himself.  Where to start with this fool?  His hair.  His clothing.  He is a mess.

So which is it Louisiana?  Sexy or scary?  Beautiful vampires or serious rodent and bug infestation? I'm gonna need an answer on this.  And I prefer that answer to be given in Cajun.

Observation #2: Women in prison are scary.  Yes, I know this is far from profound.  But I just want to say that I watched multiple episodes of Beyond Scared Straight, and those women aren't kidding around.  Oh, in case you haven't figured it out yet, I love A&E.  Quality programming, I tell you.  The first episode I watched was about young ladies who were visiting a women's prison in an effort to show them that if they keep up their shenanigans they will find themselves in a similar location in the not too distant future.  Ummmm, it worked on me.  I promise not to be involved in any gang-related activity.  Consider your program a success. Kathy is walking the straight and narrow.  I'm pretty sure it was the "lady" who had a beard tattooed on her face.  Yep, that'll do it.  I'll go ahead and state that any face tattoos frighten me.  You have sufficiently proven your street cred to me if you have a tattoo located on your face or neck. You are by far, badder than me.

Observation #3: Watching reporters trapped inside Libyan hotels makes me extremely nervous.  When I saw a tweet regarding the Libyan revolution, I quickly switched off my pointless show and headed on over to the Worldwide Leader in News, CNN.  In typical Cable News Network style, there wasn't a ton to report, so they just kind of talked about theories, ideas, and opinions.  You know, hard-hitting news.  At one point, the anchor was talking to Matthew who was in Tripoli in an international hotel.  Matthew had a crazy Blair Witch-like camera angle going on, wandering around the halls of the hotel.  And let me tell you, Matthew looked nervous...and that made me nervous.  I'm going to throw a crazy idea against the wall, and let's just see if it sticks.  How about, let's not put journalists' lives in danger, just to get a meaningless interview, for them to tell all of us back in America that there are, "No new developments to report, Julie."  Maybe Matthew could just write a blog...seems safer to me.

And on an unrelated note, for those of you keeping score at home, I was called Kathy three times last week and once today.  I was also called Peggy on the phone today.  That was a first.  Maybe Peggy needs a blog too.  She and Matthew can team up together, there's real promise there.

Hey there Fantasy Girl

Oh me, oh my, it's fantasy football time people.  Kathy is playing in four leagues this year, and let me tell you, she's got some anxiety.  The stakes have been raised, there's a lot on the line this year.

Let me give you a little background.  I've been playing fantasy football for about four years.  I tried to play for several years prior to that, but no one wanted a girl on their team.  Apparently, these people missed the whole women's suffrage movement.  Ever heard of Elizabeth Cady Stanton?  She fought for my right to join your stupid fantasy football league.  Anyway, I waited patiently on the sidelines, knowing my time would come eventually.

As of August 18, 2011, I will be playing in four leagues.  One family, one of my friends, and two male-dominated leagues.  In the latter two, I'm the token girl.  I weaseled my way into the first Males Only one because it is run by Husband's friends.  The commissioner likes me and he let me play.  I'll be honest, I had a tough rookie season, but was in first place all of last season until the second week of the playoffs.  Stupid, stupid Michael Vick and his I-got-bit-by-a-radioactive-spider-so-watch-me-do-superhuman-things late season performance. 

And then yesterday, my very good friend from college called and asked me if I wanted to play in his league.  I was instantly suspicious.  They had a late drop out, so in the scramble to find a replacement, my name was suggested.  And apparently, the commissioner of this particular league was reluctant.  Don't you worry your pretty little head.  Just last week, I worked Jeff Saturday into a conversation, I'll be fine.  So here, I am, part of another boys club.  It's a lot of pressure.  My pride is on the line on this one.  I'll keep you updated throughout the season.  I think we can all agree that what is best for everyone concerned is if Kathy wins this league and makes at least two opponents cry.

For any of you who read my old blog, you know that I take fantasy football pretty seriously.  Mainly because I really love winning and hate losing.  But a lot also comes from the whole, "I wear skirts and heels and so my teeny brain can't understand the complicated game of football," line of thinking.  I mean seriously...it's not rocket science.  I've been known to pick a fight or two with Husband in regards to fantasy as well.  In the past, I have asked his opinion on starting certain guys in relation to the defenses they are facing and/or based on recent performance.  And Husband gives terrible advice.  TERRIBLE.  And frankly, I believe he's trying to sabotage my success.  I learned my lesson, I don't let him talk me out of anything anymore.  He abused his power.

And in closing, I'd like to address the subject of trash talking.  I'm not much of a trash talker, if you can actually believe that.  I let my performance speak for itself.  I also think it's bad karma.  Husband, on the other hand, has no issues with it.  In fact, last weekend when we were drafting he talked noise on my first three picks.  All I have to say is, you're cruisin' for a bruisin', pal.  And then I checked out this league of my college friends, and my goodness, makes a lady such as myself blush.  As you probably know by now, I am a delicate flower and do not use such vulgarity.  Well, not in public at least.  I'm curious if they will amend their insults in relation to my anatomy, or continue to focus on their own.  Only time will tell...

Well, that's different

Greetings this wonderful Sunday evening.  I'm caught in a conundrum, a real predicament, if you will. I'm filling out an application that is due tomorrow.  It's for a leadership thing.  I'm going to leave it extremely vague, in case I don't get it.  Then we will never speak of it again.  It's called denial, and it's been working for me for 32 years now.

So I'm stumped on the following question: What makes you a little different from many others? Ummm, where does one start with that question?  And how does one answer it without sounding really annoying?  I find people who constantly talk about how unique they are, very boring and irritating.

Husband suggested  I write about how selfless I am.  I pointed out to him that true selfless people don't write essays about how much they do for other without expecting anything in return.  Defeats the point.

So what makes Kathy different from others?  Maybe that she writes a blog under a pseudo name.  Maybe I'll just copy and paste the link to the blog in which I explain my love of purses AND football.  Maybe I should talk about how I tend to be very judgy wudgy, yet, I'm a bleeding heart.  However, as I reread that sentence, neither of those things really makes me sound great.  Should I write about how my obsession with Van Gogh and Justin Blackmon are pretty much equal?  How about that I tear up during Intervention, when the OSU spirit band plays the Alma Mater, AND when reading The World According to Garp.   Ugh, I'm so complex!  Maybe I'll write about how much I hate people who talk about how complex and deep they are...

I need suggestions.  Let's all keep in mind that the overall goal is for those reading the application to think, "Wow, this Kathy character sounds great!  We need her as a part of this group!"  instead of, "she sounds a little bit schizo."

I "like" you

I was inspired by a friend's comment today in which he referred to himself as a "like whore."  Me too.  I love "likes."  I love lamp.

On rotten days, I like to make a list of things that make me happy.  It's not an original idea, I'm pretty sure that Oprah came up with it years ago.  But does Oprah have a snappy little blog?  I don't think she does.  Actually, I cannot confirm that, disregard all comments concerning Oprah.  I don't have the money to fight her in court.

So on this rotten Wednesday, I'm choosing to focus on these things that I like.

1. Artsy, fartsy people.  Last night I volunteered at OETA for the annual pledge drive.  My volunteering was orchestrated by the Oklahoma Humanities Council, so most of the volunteers had some connection to the OHC.  My connection was that I work at a museum, opened an email, and thought, "that sounds interesting."  In the biz, they call that a "very loose connection."  As I sat in the midst of all these pro-humanities people during our pre-game meal, I thought, "I should be around more people like this.  I love these people."  The key to fitting in with them is to use some artsy jargon, make an obscure reference/joke, and have a little bit of dishevelment about your appearance.  So now, the key is figuring out where the artsy fartsies are.  They are NOT at sporting events, which throws a wrench into my plans.  I either have to find them in three weeks, make them fall in love with me and become best friends, or I may have to postpone this quest until football, basketball and college baseball seasons conclude.  
2. Funny textersations.  There are two people in my life that I have hilarious textersations with.  One friend, we'll call her Beauty, may be the wittiest person I know.  Funny stuff between she and I.  It gets so intense that Husband once asked me, "Should I be worried that you and Beauty are having an emotional affair?"  I laughed and laughed, and then texted his comment to her.  My brother once said that his best material is wasted on Facebook.  I think my best material may be wasted in text.  
3. Opinion games.  I recently read a book where a girl went on a date and she played the "Love it or Hate it" game.  Premise of the game is someone names a topic, and you have to decide if you love it or hate it.  No in betweens.  I would be EXCELLENT at this game.  I have an opinion on everything.  Easy, peasy, Japanesey.  Tom Cruise?  Hate it.  Doritos? Love it. Wind? Hate it.  Tornados? Love it.  Possums?  Hate it.  Salt? Love it.  Winning?  Love it.  Losing? Hate it.  See how fun this is? I could go on for hours.  If there was a "Love it or Hate it" tournament, I would win.  I would win a trophy.  Trophies?  Love it.
4. Homemade Sangria.  We had some friends over last Saturday and Husband I worked our magic in the kitchen.  I made sangria, and let me just tell you it was unbelievable.  If it was socially acceptable to drink sangria every day, I would do it.  I'd take it in a thermos everywhere I went.  Life changing.  Like wart hog, but in a good way.   Jerry Jeff Walker clearly knew what he was talking about.  So on this 10th day of August, 2011 in the year of our Lord, I declare, from this moment forward, when asked, "What would you like to drink?" Kathy's answer shall be, "Whoa oh oh whoa, I love sangria wine."

The End.

It could be worse

How funny is this picture?  I tell you what, Google Image searching really is such an adventure. 

This was a rough week for Kathy.  Not as bad as  Cowboy Barbie, pictured above, but it was a struggle. I've decided to really switch things up a bit, though.  Instead of complaining, which I appear to have mastered, I'm searching for the silver lining of this stormy cloud.

First, after a ridiculous work week, I received this in the mail.  I really, really like that I get to research football as part of my job.  It makes Kathy's heart swoon.  We are only 4 Saturdays away from kickoff, people.  Hooray!  So today, I can sit and analyze stats about the Mountain West.  And I think just for fun, I'll take a look at the College Football Encyclopedia this afternoon too. And then I'm going to come up with some clever names for my Fantasy Football teams.  Okay, maybe I'll wait on that last one.  Since, I'm almost positive that I can't justify that as "work."  No need to push my luck.

Second, I'm pretty sure I got confirmation that my shopping habits are totally justified this morning.  I was giving myself a pep talk, out loud for the dog and husband to hear.  I do this from time to time.  Just shower myself with a few compliments to get the day going.  Don't worry, it's never anything shallow.  Always on the up and up.  The following conversation occurred:

Kathy (to herself): I may not be the thinnest girl, but I sure do put myself together well. (Then I looked at Husband for confirmation).

Husband: You always look cute.  That's true.

Kathy: That's correct.  That's why it's extremely important to shop on a regular basis, so your appearance never gets stale. 

Husband: *silence*

The most obvious way to interpret his silence is that there is no arguing with my logic.  I win!

And then there is OSU football.  I have to preface this with saying that, I made a pledge to myself that when I started this job, I would cool my jets on the obnoxious level when it comes to the Cowboys.  Let's just all agree, that Kathy has a pretty hard time with this agenda item.  She bleeds orange.  I know, I cut her once just to check.  But I now work for an organization that promotes ALL Oklahoma athletes, not just my superior Cowboys.  So no more message board posts from me, no more scathing emails to journalists I don't agree with.  It's time to be an adult.  No more publicly talking bad or criticizing other teams.  Only praise for my team.  Do you know how hard being a mature fan is?  Almost impossible.  Especially if you are listening to sports radio.  But I will not fall into the trap.  I will not hear others' hate.  What I will do is focus on this, my Cowboys are going to be GREAT this year.  Did you hear me?  Great.  We are ranked in the top 10, #8 to be exact.  We have fancy new duds.  And it seems that everyone who isn't a Cowboy fan hates us and hates all the attention we are getting.  Do you know what this means?  We are the new girl.  You know, the new girl who comes to your high school, who is REALLY pretty.  So all the senior boys love her, and all the girls hate her?  Yep, we are her, and we're about to turn this school upside down.  Move over head cheerleader, you are about to get knocked off your throne as the most popular girl in school.

Revolution!

None of the things in this blog have anything to do with another.  I just wanted you to know, before you start reading and ask, "Where is she going with this?"  Nowhere.  That's where.

Last night I fell asleep with the television on.  When I woke up, Paul Mitchell was trying to sell me tequila.  I was very confused.  Is that really in his wheelhouse?  Seems like kind of a stretch.  Are you supposed to use the tequila on your hair?  If so, will you hair then make bad decisions?  That might be fun.  Is Paul Mitchell's tequila only carried in high end liquor stores, like his hair products?  I need to know more.

A couple of years ago I wrote a blog about being a super hero.  It was more or less deciding what my super power would be.  I was having a hard time choosing between my keen sense of smell or my supersonic hearing.  I made the decision yesterday, that my hearing is my by far my super power.  My brother refers to it as my "bat ears."  Frankly, that's a little harsh.  You do realize that I can't help it.  Yesterday, as I sat in a closed-door meeting, I heard my boss's cell phone ring through the wall.  He asked me twice how I heard it.  All I could say was, "I have really great hearing."  But what I should have said is, "I can hear your thoughts.  That's what you are dealing with."

And finally, this weekend, I was flipping  through the latest issue of The New Yorker, (I like to look at all the cartoons first, and then go back and read the articles), I noticed there was a long feature piece on the Egyptian revolution.  The article features all the different factors of the revolution, all the different people who came together to make it happen.  All of those who pushed change through.  The revolutionaries, if you will.  I then announced to Husband that if I could choose a way to die, I would like to die in a revolution, fighting for what is right.  Fighting for the people.  Wouldn't that be awesome?  His response, "I want to die in my sleep."  So...it appears we don't exactly view things the same.  I should have known that already, since I can hear his thoughts.