All the Single Ladies Run Roughshod

You know how a really good interview answer is to talk about the importance of being a life-long learner?  How you should always strive to learn something new, never settle for what you already know?  There is always more to learn, more ways to expand your knowledge and understanding, and more ways to grow... Well, I rocked that theory this weekend.  Freakin' Encyclopedia Brown up in here!  Okay, maybe that metaphor doesn't work...because he already knew stuff.  My weekend was probably closer to Amelia Bedelia, if we are sticking with literary characters from my childhood, and why wouldn't we?

I'd like to start with a sincere apology to you, my readers.  The title of last Friday's blog was, "Friday List." I didn't even have the courage to come up with anything that resembled clever.  I'm better than that.  You deserve more.  Hence my power-packed title today.  The median of the two should equal something similar to an enjoyable pun.

These are the things I've learned since last writing...

...The Kansas band is a good time.  Of everyone at the stadium on Saturday, they were clearly having the best time.  At half time, they did the Beyonce Single Ladies dance.  And because of that, no matter what the scoreboard said, to me, they were the real winners that day...

...The phrase is "running roughshod," not "running rickshaw."  I'm guessing, I was probably the only one who didn't know this.  It makes more sense to me to say, "We ran rickshaw over them."  I  like that mental image of running over someone with a wooden cart you power with your legs.  I don't even know what a roughshod is.  Can we lobby to change it?  What is that petition website?  Let's get this movement going! Moveon.org!...oh wait, I think I'm off topic.  Anyway, I was reading another blog, saw the phrase, "ran roughshod," and I thought, "what an idiot!  Everyone knows it's 'ran rickshaw.'"  Much to my chagrin, "everyone" didn't know that.  Apparently, it's my own private idiom.  Not to be confused with my own private Idaho...

...I think I might be a closet Lil' Wayne fan.  I know, I know.  I was so firm in my dislike of him...but my icy heart is starting to melt.  I'm softening to Weezy.  His lyrics are just so clever.  I can't put my finger on why I have such negative feelings towards him.  Maybe it's because he's barely 5 feet tall and has a funny looking face.  Or maybe it's his face tattoos. Regardless, I think we have an unlikely friendship forming.  We're like those Youtube videos of pigs and dogs who become best friends.  Because let's be honest, there is nothing cuter than baby pigs and puppies...except maybe a baby pig with a face tattoo.  The image of a piglet with a teardrop tat is giving me the giggles...

...Texas fans don't really have much of a sense of humor.  And they don't like it when you tell them that you, in fact, really like Mack Brown.  When you bring up the OSU game, and tell them, "After we beat Texas this weekend..." Longhorn fans just stare at you.  Even I can crack a fake smile.  Where did all your joy go, burnt orange nation?  Lighten up a little.  And for the record, I'm not even convinced we are going to win, but that has never stopped me from being obnoxious.  We are totally going to run rickshaw over them.

Friday List

I couldn't decide the topic I wanted to run with today, so I'm abandoning structure, and I will present to you a list.  I'm good at making lists.  And they are easier to write than something thoughtful.  Sometimes I'm lazy, get over it.

1. I have lots of thoughts on the Richie Incognito situation, but mainly I'd like to point out the similarities between him and Ben Afleck's character in Dazed in Confused.  You guys remember O'Bannion?  Remember how seriously he took hazing the freshman, and how Randal Pink realized how stupid it actually was?  Well, I kind of feel like Randall Pink in this whole thing.  Where's Carl's mom when we need her?  Party at the moon tower.
2. So, college football last night...that was something.  Thank God I don't bet on sports, I would have woken up much poorer this morning. I'm not a college football expert, and I'm not trying to pile on to Sooner fans' misery...but I don't think Blake Bell, or Bullethead as my brother calls him, is the answer.  Also, I'm a little tired of Oregon losing to those smarty pants trees.  And that's all the football analysis you're going to get from me.
3. I had a dream last night that I was hanging out with my good friend and her baby who is just a month younger than my kiddo.  In the dream, my friend's 12 month old baby, was speaking in clear, full sentences.  I woke up completely stressed out because her baby was more advanced than mine.  If I have to look back to a point in my life when I officially lost it, it will be last night when my competitiveness spilled over into my dreams.
4. Sometimes it's almost unbelievable how wrong Husband gets cliches and colloquialisms.  Here is an example of a recent conversation:
   Kathy: You know Howard (name changed to protect the innocent) won't talk to me.
   Husband: Oh yeah?
   Kathy: Yeah, I say "Good Morning" to him every day, and he acts like he doesn't hear me.
   Husband: Maybe he can't hear you.
   Kathy: No, he speaks to everyone else but me.  I'll say, "Good Morning," he is silent, and then someone else walks by and he shouts, "Hey!  Howya doin'?!"
   Husband: That's kind of funny.
   Kathy: I think it's kind of mean.  But I will just keep talking to him.  Eventually, I'll break him.
   Husband: That's right.  Kill him with sugar.
   Kathy: Ummm... I think that's called diabetes. I think you mean kindness.
   Husband: Yeah, sure.  Whatever.
5. I swear on everything holy if we don't beat Kansas tomorrow, I'm staging a sit-in on Gundy's lawn.  You all are invited.  I'll make the signs. You bring the snacks.
6. I'm headed to the first OSU basketball game of the season tonight.  Let me say this now, and let me be clear...get on the bus now.  This is the season, y'all.  You want to follow this team.  You want to be a basketball fan this year.  They are awesome, and through the law of transference (Is that a thing? Did I make that up?) you will be more awesome for cheering them on.  Get on this bandwagon.  I'll bring the signs, you bring the snacks.

No, No...Thank YOU!

It’s that time of year…November.  Should be Yesvember, because everyone is in the spirit of announcing what they are thankful for.  It’s a facebook tradition (<-- it’s true, those exist) to write about what you are thankful for every day in November.  Each year, I see people do it.  Each year, I think, “meh.”  Not because I have a problem with those who do, but more because, I’m not convinced that I can think of 30 things I’m thankful for.  How pathetic is that?  I can’t think of 30 measley things I’m happy to have.  I can think of 492 that annoy me, but thankful?  Apparently, I'm ungrateful.  I'm currently typing blind, for my head is hung in shame.

I thought about just writing a blog where I listed 30 things I was thankful for, knock out every day in one single post.  But I quickly realized that no one actually wants to read that.  It would be a bad version of Buzzfeed…which if we are all being honest with each other, is pretty bad to start.  Add Buzzfeed to my annoy list.

So, instead, I’m taking the angle of what am I thankful for right NOW.  This way, I’m kind of participating, but no one has to depend on me to be thankful every day.  We all come out of this as thankful winners.

• I'm thankful OSU beat Texas Tech this weekend.  There are lots of reasons this makes me happy, but a lot of it has to do with Tech fans accusing Oklahoma State of "stealing" their traditions.  I'm going to let you in on a secret: you guys didn't invent a person riding a horse.  That's actually been going on for quite a while now. See Lawrence of Arabia or the Pony Express.
• I'm thankful for Desmond Roland and Rennie Childs.  They are great little runners.  No idea why it took seven games to figure this out, but that's not the point.  I like to think me screaming, "THAT'S NOT WORKING!" each game had something to do with the change in running back.
• I'm thankful for crockpots.  They are so wonderful.  Magical meal makers.  I wish I could use the crock pot for every meal.
• I'm thankful for all the crazy people in my life.  I've upped the ante lately with the amount of cuckoo in my life.  They are all material for the best seller I'm going to write some day.  So bring it on nutsos, don't think for a minute that I'm not taking notes.
• I'm thankful for conversations like this:
  Husband: I guess there were earthquakes last night
  Kathy: Yeah, I just read that.  It is earthquake season.
  Husband: Earthquake season?  That's a thing?
  Kathy: Yes.  Earthquakes happen in the fall around here.
  Husband: Is that scientifically proven?
  Kathy:  It's, "I only have memories of earthquakes happening during football season" proven.
  Husband: Good enough for me.

So there you go, five things I'm thankful for at this very moment.  Maybe my heart isn't made of stone after all.  There's hope.

**Editor's note: It goes without saying, I'm thankful for my family and friends, baby and dog, my blessed life and charmed existence.  But I just don't think crockpots get enough love...I'd be devastated if I lose mine this earthquake season.

I'll take two Kathy's and a side of queso

I don't know if I've used this picture before, but I like it very much, so if I have, let's all pretend it's brand new.  Great.

So it's the day after Halloween and we're all crashing from our candy highs.  We all feel a little guilty for stuffing our faces with Mexican food for the second Friday in a row at lunch.  Oh, that's just me?  I'm the only one with queso guilt for consecutive weeks?  Okay then.  Now I'm embarrassed.

A friend of mine told me that I need to be a little more consistent with my blogging.  He said I need to write more on a schedule, so he can know when to expect my amazing thoughts to be put out on the interwebs.  I mean, really?  I cannot be contained.  I'm freakin' Maria.  How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?  He does, however, have a point.  So I'm going to aim for Monday & Friday blogs, with some Wednesday's sprinkled in for funsies.  Don't get your hopes up though...I'm not super dependable.

On this sugar-crash, sleepy-from-lunch-queso-Friday, I'm going to share two random, unconnected thoughts. In no particular order...

I'm a salty football fan at the moment.  Some might even say surly.  The Cowboys broke my heart so early this year, every game is met with a "meh," reaction.  Essentially, they stole my sunshine.  I'm also annoyed that both Texas Tech and Baylor are good.  Sure, they haven't played anyone, but neither have we.  And we still managed to lose.  We lost to a team that may not win another game...that's hard to do.  That takes effort.  I don't have my blind hope each week like in previous years.  Instead, I spend Sunday through Saturday morning preparing myself mentally that we will probably lose.  This is the worst. I'm just being Eeyore, looking for my tail.  Must find tail and knock this off.

So, this week we take on the mighty Fightin' Tortilla Throwers and their California Dreamboat head coach.  And before you get offended they do actually throw tortillas at Texas Tech.  No one has explained to me why, but it is their "thing."  People in Lubbock are weird, the Dixie Chicks taught me that.  I'd like to see a little soul-stomping by my Cowboys Saturday night.  Crush their spirits, ruin their season, make pretty boy cry.  We can all just mute it and pretend he's just revealed how much he loves Rachel McAdams.  Win, win for everyone.  Except Tech.  No win for Tech, that's the goal.  See how quickly I turned my attitude around?  It was just a matter of minutes, and now I'm back to my foolishly optimistic ways.  Welcome back, Kath!

I emailed Husband a little earlier and asked him if he had any suggestions for what I should blog about.  He wrote back and said, "Yes.  Cloning."  And then went on and on about how he needed a clone because he's so busy.  So...that's not exactly what I was looking for, but we'll go with it.  Because I will write about anything that I am asked, I promise.

Let's all imagine a world with more than one Kathy.  Can you even get your mind wrapped around that?  Uh. Mazing.  Twice the laughs.  Twice the fodder.  We'd all be better off.  More than likely, I'd make Kathy 2.0 do the following things:

1. Fold socks.  I hate folding socks.  I get physically angry every time I do it.  I think I might actually be allergic to folding socks.  Still waiting on the doctor to call me back on that one.
2. Make my fantasy football waiver requests.  I forget every week, and then I get stuck without a tight end.  Kathy Two will be much more responsible than me. And maybe she won't be an idiot and draft Brandon Pettigrew every year.  Hopefully, she's the more logical version of who I'm supposed to be.
3. Pay taxes.  I hate paying taxes more than folding socks, which believe me, is A LOT.  Kathy Two should probably start setting money aside so she doesn't cuss a lot when she finds out how much she owes at the end of the year.
4. And finally, this is the most important one...watch OSU lose.  Watching the Cowboys lose is probably my least favorite thing in the entire world.  Ever.  But I almost always have this tiny, tiny glimmer of hope that tells me, "Don't stop watching, they can still come back."  And I always think to myself, if they pull off the greatest comeback in sports history and you weren't watching, you will never forgive yourself.  So I watch.  And we never pull off the comeback.  And I turn into the salty fan I referenced earlier.  So, if I can get another one of me, and SHE can watch, I think I will have effectively solved the problem. She can take on the heartache of defeat, and I only have to experience joy and winning. 

What we are probably going to need to do is make sure that Kathy Two has the the power to freeze time either by putting her two forefingers together (ala Out of this World) or by calling "Timeout!" like Zack Morris.  Then we can switch places.  Any things take a turn, ZING!, switch places!

I could have used Kathy around 12:30 pm today to knock the tortilla chip out of my hand.  Let's hope I don't need her tomorrow.  (Insert big dramatic sigh).

To the loser goes the gift card

I had big plans for the blog today.  Big, big plans.  I was going to share with you about my amazing game show experience.  It was going to be my shining moment.  I had this blog outlined in my head, ready to write after my numerous victories.   But I lost.  And now I am le sad.  A big, sad, non-shiny loser.  Cue the sad trombone.

But you know what?  I'm going to tell you about the experience anyway.  For  my shame is transparent.  I tried out for a local trivia game show about a month ago at the State Fair of Oklahoma.  Yes, you read that sentence correctly.  While I officially competed against two other people in my tryout, I really only competed against one.  Junior didn't answer one question.  Not a single one.  He never used his buzzer.  His wife yelled at me later that she was pretty sure I was cheating.  If you call being brilliant cheating, then guilty as charged, lady.  So, last week I was notified that I was chosen as a contestant on America's newest game show: Wild Card!  I had an inflated sense of self confidence.  And then last night, I started to get very nervous.  What if they made the questions harder?  What if I froze when the red light came on, ala Cindy Brady? (I purposely didn't wear pigtails for that very reason).  When I got to the green room today, I started to get more nervous.  There were lots of knowledge bombs being dropped.  It became clear quickly, this was not a room filled with Juniors.

Here are the highlights of my first and probably last game-show appearance:

• I lost the ability to tell the difference between clubs and spades (twice).  I've always struggled with this.  I'm playing card dumb.  So, that wasn't my finest moment.  Luckily it was recorded by television cameras for posterity's sake.
• I got the one and only sports question right.  Obvi.  
• I was slow on the buzzer.  Tis the achilles of many a game show contestant.  Realizing I needed to make a move, I buzzed in to one answer before the question was complete.  I did not have any idea what the answer was, so I rambled on and on.  The answer was, "True."  Because it was a true or false question.  So if you are keeping score at home, I managed to look quite foolish three times, which is consistent with my daily average.
• I need to work on my frowny face.  Husband came to cheer me on and took several pictures. As I was scrolling through them, I noticed a consistent theme: Kathy has a frowny face.  I believe the scientific term is BRF.

My parting gift was a gift certificate to a restaurant in Choctaw.  So, I'm going to need to figure out how to get to Choctaw, I guess.

So that's that.  I lost and am pretty disappointed.  I'll probably bounce back, but who really knows.  I need a good case of game night where I can dominate my opponents and shove it down their throats to make myself feel better.  I believe the scientific term for that is Poor Sport.

Baby, you might be nuts

I would like to begin this blog by stating that I am aware that mental illness is a real problem in this country and no laughing matter.  It is an underserved community that leads to so many other social issues.  It has to be dealt with openly and honestly.  That being said, I think my baby might be crazy.  She is either suffering from bi-polar disorder, split personality, or becoming Two Face from Batman.

One moment she is laughing hysterically at things that frankly aren't that funny, like her feet, the fan, Wheel of Fortune, or rubber ducks in the bath, and the next she literally loses her mind.  How can you go from so happy to sunken into the depths of despair in 15 seconds?  How is that possible?  And how long can I anticipate the bowing of one's back and throwing the head back stage to last?  Is that coming to an end soon?  When do we start to handle upset feelings with maturity?  I'm hoping the answer is 14 months.  Because I find throwing yourself on the floor to express yourself to be a tad dramatic.

This morning we had a problem with spending time by ourselves while Mommy got ready.  I pose this question to you, dear reader, who is really the crazy one?  The child who had to have constant contact or she might perish?  Or me, who tried to reason with her by saying, "You have to allow me to put on pants.  They won't let me go to work without pants."  'Tis a glamorous life I lead.

In other news, I am starting to feel sports-overwhelemed.  Too many.  Too many sports going on.  I can't keep up.  If the World Cup qualifying games had been on TV last night, I might have just gone completely over the edge.  I don't know why I feel the need to follow them all.  I don't work for ESPN, it's okay to let a few go.  But no!  I must flip between eight different types of competition in case I'm called in as a guest on local sports radio.  As we are in the midst of the ALCS and NLCS, Husband and I have had the following conversations.  This is what it sounds like when two people who aren't really baseball fans, watch playoff baseball.

Game 2 of ALCS, Detroit vs. Boston.

Kathy: You remember the movie City of Angels?

Torri Hunter & Cassiel the Angel

Husband: With Nicholas Cage?
Kathy: Yeah.  Remember the guardian angel?
Husband: Ummmm....
Kathy: Well, he's playing outfield for the Tigers now.
Husband: I don't think I remember what he looks like.
Kathy: You don't have to remember.  I just told you.  He looks just like Torii Hunter.
Husband: Weird.  You think he'd still be playing for Anaheim.




Game 4 of NLCS, St. Louis vs. Los Angeles

The two John Jays

Kathy: Sheesh, John Jay is having a tough series.
Husband: Who?
Kathy: John Jay, the center fielder.
Husband: Oh, he was also a founding father of our country.
Kathy: He's held up remarkably well.
Husband: True.  I'm going to let that dropped ball slide, he's done a lot for our country.


And that ladies and gentlemen is your brief history/pop culture lesson for the day.  I just got all Alex Trebek up in here.

I usually try to wrap up each blog by tying everything together.  I've sat here for 10 minutes and I just can't.  The key takeaways for you are 1.Living with my baby is what I assume living with Andy Kauffman was like.  Hilarious moments, lots of physical comedy, crashing into things, and unreasonable emotional reactions to running out of goldfish crackers.  And 2. Husband and I's conversations sometimes resemble bad stand-up comedy.  Kind of like the Smothers Brothers.  Thank God we have each other.

You are getting on my nerves

Before I get into this blog I have to share a quick story with you.  Last week, I turned to my personal assistant, Google, to tell me how often I was supposed to rotate my tires.  Thank God for Google, it keeps me functioning.  As I was typing, "How often do you..." Google autocompleted the question for me.  And do you want to know how they finished the question?  "How often do you need to change your bra?"  Seriously, I'm not making that up.  That's a question someone turned to the internet to answer. And apparently it's asked so often, Google just anticipated I needed to know too.  I fear for this society.  After I discovered that you are supposed to rotate your tires every 5,000 miles, I went back and checked what the answer was to the bra question.  Fear not, I'm doing it right.

Moving on...

I'm starting to think I might be more irritable than normal people.  Do you ever have one of those days where every thing that happens gets on your nerves?  Well that day lasted 96 hours for me last week.  It started with the government shutdown.  I think we can all agree that most problems can be traced back to John Boehner.  And for the record, that was a joke.  I have not the energy to argue politics with you.

I often dream of the day I'm old enough to just say whatever comes to my mind.  You know how old people just tell it like it is?  I love that.  I'm counting down the days when I can just walk up to a stranger and tell them, "Those pants look ridiculous on you."  But after several encounters last week, I think I might have crossed over into senior citizen status.  Bring on the polyester!  I had to tell three different people off last week.  Three.  I mean, come on, what gives?  If I keep these numbers up, I will be the most hated person in Oklahoma City by January.  I hope there is some sort of ceremony at least.

I used the following phrases last week:

• "You are providing poor customer service and I no longer wish to work with you."
• "I will not tolerate being bullied.  You owe me an apology, which I'm sure I won't get."
• "Hey!  I'm one of those idiots you're talking about!"

It really is exhausting being me.  Always fighting for the little guy. 

Speaking of being the little guy, in an attempt to get back to my birth weight, I've been doing Jillian Michael's workout DVDs.  She is the meanest person on the planet.  She comes up with the craziest moves known to man.  It's like she thinks, "how about I make them do squats while doing a one-handed push up."  And then screams, "MAKE SURE TO USE YOUR ABS!"  She's just making stuff up.  These aren't actual workout moves, it's just a bunch jumping in the air, doing a flying sit up and landing in plank.  And then she gives them cute names like burpies, rockstars, and moguls.  Just call them what they are: torture moves.  I refer to them as waterboarding, draw and quarters, and the assassin's bullet.  I'm just keeping it real.

Keep it up, Jillan and you just might be the next person to feel the wrath of Kathy.  

Side note: Kathy's Wrath sounds like a good strong drink.  It could literally be liquid courage.  As Drake says, you only live once.  Might as well go out guns blazin'.