Thursday, November 25, 2004


Shit, man. It's midnight. I've (we've) been waiting with baited breath for my brother to show up (from Binghamton, three hour drive to the city, he said he was leaving at 6 pm) since 10 o'clock.

I'm happy to invite my brother to Thanksgiving dinner. Round here, we've taken a liking to making our own traditions, and cooking a badass Thanksgiving is one of them. Last year, our only guest was Mac from round Buffalo way, but he was a great guest. He's a great guy (hint - great guys make for great guests.) Now that my little brother's moved within a stone's throw from the city, he's our soon to be regular and soon to be great (but not quite as great as Mac - hey, it comes with age) guest.

But right now, I'm worried. Hurry up, Adam! Damn! Did traffic fuck you up? Did you become entangled in a late evening conversation with an old friend that you lacked the fortitude to end? (Adam lacks fortitude in that way. Internet(s), I thought you should know.)

Aside from the Adam dilemma, I'm oh-so-thankful that Thanksgiving is once again not involvng crazy obese realtives, lame small talk about our respective professions, or the killing Tim's third cousin twice removed made in the bonds market. I'm thankful that I have an incredible, yet incredibly human and fallible man, who makes me laugh every other minute.

I'm thankful most of all for our gorgeous and genetically blessed son, Kiernan. He's a science genius, mathematician, and comedy writer already - and hell, he's only just turned eight!

Kiernan, if I haven't mentioned it before, has an autistic spectrum disorder known as Asperger's Syndrome. Out in California, they call it little geek syndrome or Bill Gates' syndrome. It entails an obsessive interest in one or two subjects - in Kiernan's case, scientific pursuits like animal biology or computers and playstation 2 (yeah, most of you are saying, "Playstation is a disability? Then aren't most kids disabled?" Nooo, we let Kiernan play this shit once a week. Yet, he still obsesses over it once a day. Seriously.)

Added to the one or two interests is a high verbal ability, a high IQ, and lack of social or physical skills - that is, Kiernan sure can't play ball, and the other kids think he's a little strange. But he's brilliant and thoroughly impresses every teacher he encounters. In my day, he would have been the smart awkward kid, but now there's a need to diagnose these things.

Luckily, he has a fabulous, award winning teacher who supports our decision NOT to medicate him. He just scored in the 90th percentile for the city practice tests (For non-New Yorkewrs, the city has introduced serious tests at the third gradse level - Kiernan's level - that determine promotion or failure. Kiernan kicked a lot of ass [this includes private schools, and he's in a public school] and he hasn't yet learned half of the material [including such diverse, abstract subjects as poetry and causal reasoning]). My boy may have some issues, but he's smmmahhhht. And he makes up for it by being the class clown. Trust me, you've not seen adorable until you've seen little toothless (his teeth are falling out late - he's in third grade, and yet he's looking like a jack o' lantern) pontificating, third grade-poop-fart-joking Kiernan.

So, yeah, I'm pretty thankful for him. And for his Dad. And for the fact that his dad, despite all of our college ed-ju-macted precautions, knocked me up at the fragile age of twenty and left me with such a great fucking kid. I'm especially thankful that we finally, as fully functioning adults, figured out that we're perfect for each other (pre-made family notwithstanding.) Fate moves in mysterious ways, especially when it moves in the wake of ten years of serial monogomay.

Dear God, how did I end up here?

I don't know, but I'm pretty pleased about it.

*P.S. Adam finally showed up at about 12:30. With some vague story about a hundred mile detour. I must investigate.

P.P.S. HAPPY FUCKING THANKSGIVING! May your turkey be moist, may your stuffing be buttery, and may the wine be plentiful. Huzzah!

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

The most sensational, celebrational, SIX DEGREES OF BLOGINATION III!!!!

Morgan, the elderly English Setter, didn't want to go to Central Park today. Instead, she chose the streets, which means meandering between Madison and Third Avenues in the seventies. She picked a good day.

Morgan picked a good day because she trotted her ass right into the middle of a Law & Order shoot, on 73rd between Park and Lex.

I totally saw Dennis Farina in a goofy peach scarf! Jesse L. Martin watched Morgan playing with a Shiba Inu, and he SMILED! JESSE L. MARTIN HAD A SHIT EATING GRIN ON WHILE WATCHING ME (uh, I mean Morgan) PLAY WITH A PUPPY!

For those of you who aren't Law & Order geeks (admit it, people, you ALL watch the rerun marathons. They're better than all of that reality crap, and you know it) Dennis Farina is the old Italian guy they hired to replace Jerry Orbach, formerly known as Law & Order's curmudgeon detective. Jesse L. Martin is the hot, suave, young detective. The good cop. The veeeerrrrrry good cop.

I asked a techie when this episode was set to air, and he said sometime after New Year's. So, if you decide to check out some Law & Order after the holidays, and there's a scene in front of a lovely ritzy Upper East Side town house, and there's some girl in the background walking a big white dog, THAT'S ME, MUTHAFUCKA! Me and, of course, the fabulous chooser of walking routes, Morgan, favored pet of the gay Thurston Howell the III.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

We Have a Winner!

Best lame catcall I've ever received while walking a large pitbull down the street that made me simultaneously want to rip the guys nads out and laugh out loud at his sheer wit (or not):

"I'd go down too if you gave me a treat"

New York women are so used to catcalls. Ick. I envy the thick skin, because I, my friends, am a small town girl. Shouting degrading shit at women just isn't done where I come from. Though, after spending the weekend in a state whose entire population barely rivals that of my borough, it's safe to say I won't be headed back to the small towns anytime soon. Those catcalling assholes keep me on my toes, and, frankly, I LIKE being on my toes.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Giving Thanks

I've only met Sean Zigmund once.

I'm confident that I'll meet him again; he is, after all, one of Tim's best, oldest friends. You should hear how he talks about that guy. The one time I met him was marked by humility (he let us know our horrible, embarrassing pile of laundry was human, and, *gasp* common!) and good company. Hell, he even did the dishes after dinner! Most of our guests don't do that. That's okay, we love them anyway. He's who I want to be when I grow up - he's got a great job (computer guru) with a progressive conscience (he farms for an organic co-op) and lives in my dream hometown, Burlington, VT.

Better yet, all of this goodness was confirmed about a month ago when Sean called Tim and told him he was donating a kidney to his uncle Eliot.

The surgery happened about a week ago. All is well with both donor and recipient.

AND, Sean blogged the experience.

If you want to know anything at all about kidney donation, check out Zigmuna's Blog.

Actually, Sean seems to be moving on to other topics as well... all ye liberals, take note. Smart, generous, wonderful man.

I've been thinking about Sean a lot in the month since he called with the news. I've asked myself, would I do that? Would most people? Probably not. That's why I've been reading up, picking the brain of the guy that would. You should, too.

In other news:

My brother Adam is here. Which rocks. And we're going to Maine for a few days - which could maybe rock, except it's with my psychotic extended family - I think we once called it family hell? - but it's not so hellish as just, well, tedious and depressing these days. I may update from there. You've been warned.

Thursday, November 04, 2004

And now, presenting the rest of our lives...

What can I say that everyone else hasn't said? Nadda.

I had a semi-coherent, long post assembled yesterday. However, Blogger broke out the tough love and deleted it before I embarrassed myself.

Four more years... I keep thinking,

"How bad could it be? Really?"

And then I remember,

"Oh, shit. He thinks he has a mandate now."

Well, well. While I still find it slightly astounding that half the country looks at this guy and thinks, "That's EXACTLY what I want in my Commander in Chief!", I still think I'm going to live. Moreover, I'm going to live quite happily in the good old U.S. of A. I can, at least, take comfort in the fact that I reside in a city that voted for Kerry four to one over Bush.

That's not an exaggeration - look up the county breakdown for Manhattan, Bronx, Kings, Queens, and Staten Island. NYC is also home to about 20 of the hundred top zipcodes for political fundraising this cycle. I care for the canines of those in the #1, #2, and #3 zipcodes in the nation (Lenox Hill, Yorkville [sort of Upper East Side subdivisions] and the plain old UES itself, 10021, 10022, and 10028, respectively.) Feel alienated in east Bumblefuck? New York welcomes you!

At least a few million folks in this country don't have their heads up their asses.

One more thing, and then I'll be off my soapbox - for a little while, anyway - and back to stories of dogs and dildos and wholesome city family fun.

To all of those voters who decided based on so-called "moral values" (in lieu of national security, terrorism, the crapper economy, and so on and on...) Doesn't our Constitution guarantee us each the latitude to worship or not as we see fit, without hindrance by the state apparatus? What if the majority were Islamic fundamentalists? (not my original thought, BTW. I can't remember where I read it, but it was recently and it was online, if anyone else caught and wants to help me cite the reference.) What if the Islamic fundamentalists out there voted on religious tenets alone, your minority evangelical Christian values be damned? And what if you then had to follow all of their laws, because they felt that their faith must not only be practiced by individuals of the group, but legislated so that ALL are forced to practice Islamic law?

That's a little bit how I feel, as an atheist looking at poll numbers that indicate HUGE support for a ban on homosexual rights, women's rights, rights for non Christians across the board. I don't have issues with whatever religion you want to practice - just don't twist it into legislation that binds me to your God.

The U.S. is majority Christian, you say? I say some things shouldn't be up to the majority.

Remember, up until the 1960's - let's face it, even beyond - the U.S. was also majority racist bigots and misogynists. Don't make it right, and don't mean it can't change.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Oh yeah, THIS is good... reeeaalll good real time stuff, for those lacking the telly.

Dildo Dogs Cause Finger Mangling

Ummm... my boyfriend just accused me of blogaholism. Which means I'm addicted to blogahol.

Hello, my name is Katie, and I am a blogaholic.

Also - the crushed finger? Ayyiiiee! Baxter the dildo dog was hassling me on the way to the girl's room. The client's bathroom door is covered in bathrobes - copious, large, fluffy bathrobes - which I pulled toward me to shut the door so that Baxter would refrain from sniffing my crotch as I peed. Unfortunately, the hinge side of the door MANGLED my left index finger into a bloody little stump (which, though Tim is trying to tell me different, does NOT require stitches. I'm that hard, ya'll.)

So, he made us a big pot of homeade badass chicken soup to fix my ills, and to fortify us through the longass night to come. Happy poll watching, everybody.

Hey, here's a guy in Canada who would vote if he were here: An American Parrothead in Canada (is that sort of like an American Werewolf in London? Because I saw that movie for the first time over the weekend, and it was surprisingly unsucky.)

Also, anyone ever hear of the Redskin curse thingy? Because the Redskins DID lose last weekend (yeah, Greenbay! Way to influence the election in a pleasing way!)

New Jersey is cool

Jersey STILL be Kerry country, despite Republican efforts to the contrary. I may never say this out loud again, but, I knew there was a reason I liked you, New Jersey.

go. vote. now.

Can't blog... crushed finger...

Um, what are you doing reading blogs anyway? Get yer lazy internet addicted ass to the polls, pronto. Unless you're in one of those decidedly red or decidedly blue states. Then, you don't really count. No matter what your sixth grade social studies teacher told you.

One more thing - do the legions of befuddled elderly election workers lower anyone else's confidence in our electoral system? Because, when my guy found out my last name was spelled with a "C" and not a "K", it really threw him. I mean, he couldn't figure out what to do. It didn't seem like it would be too hard to slip some voter fraud past this guy. I'm just sayin'.