we build build bridges

we build bridges
don't we
sometimes need a hand
despite our best laid plans
don't we
sometimes miss what we had
and we struggle
don't we
sometimes lose the reasons
but in the peacful morning
we can clearly see
where we've been


I find these truths to be self evident.
Liz Durrett you win.

well if my brain decides to quit, i guess that's just it.

Tracy Morgan’s Thanksgiving-Inspired Tattoo

Or should we say, Tracy Morgan's tattoo inspires Thanks-giving? Here's a little post-holiday anecdote from Intel friend Noella Hancock's profile of the 30 Rock star in Maxim: "'I have a tattoo on the side of my penis that says Stove Top,' Morgan tells me proudly, referring to the instant stuffing mix. 'I’m pretty well-endowed. A girl told me to get that because I stuffed her up like a turkey. She said, 'You should call that Stove Top!'" And so he did.

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank you for this day. Please bless Tracy Morgan and  Stove Top stuffing.  Oh, and the Daily Intel for publishing this.

Amen.

So, Sadie, Sadie opens tomorrow (!) at the Gene Frankel Theatre.  We have been dragging through numerous 6+ hour rehearsals and I have been in my apartment only to change clothes, throw things in a bag and sleep.  I can't believe that this is all coming to fruition.  It has been a long three months and I am stoked to see it come to life.  I am also glad to be moving on to a new project.  I think I have creative ADD. Wish us broken legs!

an overdue letter to a john.

Dear John,
I am writing you this letter because it almost makes me feel like I am talking to you. Because, let's be honest, neither of us have the guts to call. It's easier this way. Safer. And you have to be safe around me. You know that. I am a loose cannon.
Speaking of phone calls, did you ever think that the now infamous phone call placed spontaneously two years ago would land us in this mess? Okay, maybe not mess... maybe an ultra-complicated, seemingly unanswered, distance ridden enigma? I sure as hell did not. I never expected you to affect me the way you have. No one ever has. Even through all the shit we both pulled (buying those planes tickets, you telling me to cancel them, the silence, your visit... the not so kind February where we yelled a lot, the silence...), I have never once stopped thinking about you. Even when the hurt was unbearable. I guess life is funny that way. We hurt the people we care about the most because we know that they will probably stick around...
It's like a rollercoaster ride that keeps sloping up and down. A constant loop-d-loop of feelings and experiences. I have loved? Been loved? Been hurt. Recovered. Been damaged. Been repaired. I am still not sure whether I should get off or stay on. Which decision would hurt less? The jolt of the ride or feeling my feet on the ground for the first time in a long while?
It's poetic justice, or God's plan or whatever you want to call it that I am here and you are there. And that's the way it has always been. By all rights we shouldn't even know each other.
But something always brings me back to you. I can't shake it. I tried. I have kissed someone else. But the whole time I wished it was you. And if I closed my eyes tight enough, you would be there when I opened them. Like when you are little, and you think that if you wish with all your strength, the thing you most want in the world will magically appear. I think my eyes are still closed tight.
People come into your life for a reason... or so I am told. I am still figuring out why you are in mine. I thought I used to know. I am not sure about it anymore. I'm not sure about anything with you. I never have been.
I apologize for taking liberties with your silences. I am sorry for dragging you along with me through all of it. I am sorry for projecting unrealistic expectations on you. I don't regret anything. But looking back I should have played things differently. I wanted too much too fast or just more than you were willing to give. I know that now.
But you are at fault too. You never said stop. You never told me no. So I kept running. And you did too.
We were so close.
But close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.
With love,
Kat



In life, there are paths that we take. We can't see the end of this path, where it will take us. Sometimes, it is a dead end. Sometimes, it is another path or a destination. But what matters isn't where you are going, but how you got there. The journey. No matter what happens at the end.
Isn't that what life is all about? The journey. I hope so.

i only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me.

I just read this morning in a Daily Intel blurb that amNew York is reporting that New Yorkers who binge drink are three times more likely to have 2-4 sexual partners in the past year than non-drinkers...

First of all: DUH. 

Second of all: Who in New York is considered a non-drinker these days? I mean between the failing economy and the price of a subway ride, how else are we supposed to deal with this? I didn't know that these so called 'non-drinkers' existed in this day and age. 

On top of all this, if I drink heavily they are saying that there is a RISK that I will be touched by a man? I am not going to lie, that is one risk I am fully prepared to take. God forbid I have a few too many and spend the rest of the night kissing someone I think looks like Seth Rogen...! 

However, my frequent binge drinking has not lead to this. At all...  

Let's say for instance that I was a normal human being with an average binging record and average amount of sexual partners.  Let's say one night a week drinking heavily and up to this point 4 sexual partners...

However, I drink heavily on Friday and Saturday nights. There are about 4 Fridays and 4 Saturdays per month. 12 months in a year. So that is about 96 nights worth of chances (give or take random Thursday nights and a few Wednesdays) to meet a sexual partner.  In the entirety of 2008 I had one. One singular male sexual partner.  

In conclusion, no matter how hard I drink, my level of sexual partners does not rise? What needs to change here? How do I become a part of that level of elite bingers? I am technically at a mysterious 'non-drinker' level right now. Let's step this up a notch.

i want to know your plans

Why does the NY Times, even in this time of its uncertainty, get everything right? For example, this snippet from a particularly/bone crushingly honest article from the Honest Love section entitled, "So Tell Me Everything I Know About You". 

read it here.

"I realize it’s hard to resist the impulse when we live in an age of nonstop access. If you’re a skilled time-waster with high-speed cable, it is nearly impossible not to know more than you should about anyone with a searchable name. But in the long run it’s a little less interesting, isn’t it? Just as when you turn the corner and find yourself face to face with your cute new neighbor.

“Oh, hey,” he says, “I was just down at the deli.”

Having just wasted yet another morning poring over his Facebook news feed, you think: 'I know. You needed tomatoes and cereal. I already know.'"

I was contemplating this very issue with my friend Lu just yesterday over one of our hour long phone sessions that occur mid-afternoon when the Facebook stalking is prime. In an age when it is so incredibly easy (not to mention tempting) to Google search that cute hipster you chatted up at the bar last night, the line between what you heard from the horses mouth and what you read in his MySpace blog is blurred.  

This is personal because of a certain situation that I have, by choice, continuously involved myself in. A three-thousand mile wide situation.  Instead of asking Arizona Jeff what he has been doing, I can just log onto his MySpace profile and see for myself. Pictures are worth a thousand words.  Why do I need to spend the extra energy keeping tabs through an actual phone call when everything I need to know is displayed so conveniently for me.  It's less emotional, more detached... which I guess for this situation is better for both parties.  But if I didn't have this access, things would be closer, more personal, less digital, less safe. 

Is that what we are looking for when we type in that name in the search bar at google.com? Safety.  A certainty that would be missing by doing the usual "So, tell me about yourself" at the first date?  You already know everything.  The scar above his right eye is from a skiing accident when he was 12 and his younger brother owns a software company and he resents him for it.  It's safe because you are prepared for his answers.  It is a fake psychic ability.  He got that scar from skiing? You LOVE skiing! His favorite band is Say Anything? That is so funny, you were just listening to them on the way here! Conversation is a synch.

I don't know where I stand on this.  I am ashamed of it, but I feel like it is sort of necessary if used only for good. Like karate. Or vodka. 

I guess you can walk the blurred line until it disappears from beneath you because you accidentally mentioned that he thinks that you look like Mickey Rourke but might be worth sleeping with anyway and he is positive he never said that out loud and had just written it in his blog not 20 minutes before meeting you at this cafe... FML. You have done it again.

and my tendons sang "nothin's right i'm torn..."

Ladies and gentlemen, I am crutches bound. I have planter facilitis? My tendons have decided that they no longer want to be a part of my foot anymore.  RIP wearing my moccasins everyday.

 Now I am forced to crutch around Brooklyn/Queens taking the bus when I can. My armpits are on fire and I believe I am developing a hunchback. Not to complain or anything, I mean life could be worse.  Little Polish children could point and laugh at you on the street... oh wait... that happened. Mexican men could scream "Sweet ass girl" as you crutch by.. oh wait that happened too.Happy 2009 limpy.

damage control for a corpse like me, like you.

Happy New Year! My body is suffering from manic exhaustion, I am still limping and my knuckles still read ROCK and ROLL in permanent marker.
The bk4 + boyfriends decided to go to Jersey to crash our friend Lu's party. Surprise! We jammed 6 adults into a Chevy Malibu and made it there without getting pulled over. We had a couple of close calls however, which forced me to curl my spine in ways that I only though invertebrates could do... without spines... Anyway...
It was a rockin' basement party filled with gorgeous people (obvi). Jager was filling shot glasses and beer bottles were overflowing. Between Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It) and The Macarena, the music was hot. It sure beat the 2 degree adventure we would have taken to the Village.
FML moment of the night came when it was 2 minutes until the ball was to meet the drop. It is the point of the party where the champagne has been poured and the couples are all arm in arm and the few single stragglers either strategically place themselves near someone who they think is attractive enough to share this first moment of 2009 with or next to their gay BFF who will probably kiss you regardless of relationship status. Lu's friend, we will call him (for the sole purpose of anonymity)... "Eyes" cause he has gorgeous green eyes... approaches me and comments that he was going to be the one I was going to kiss at midnight. And I was perfectly fine with it... if not practically begging... So, I strategically place myself next to him for the big moment. 5...4...3... (tongue or no tongue? church tongue? what the fuck is church tongue?)2...1....HAPPY NEW YEAR! I turn to Eyes with a smile and! he turns his back to me and kisses his good friend Kelly. I stand there in shock. And pick up a party favor and blew it like a kazoo (feeling like that lady from that commercial about the friendly dinosaur at the birthday party really being a fire breathing monster....memorieeessss ... :/) hoping no one had seen the diss. I was actually sort of mortified. What had just gone on?
It wasn't that big of a deal. Just a funny thing that I laugh about now. I laughed about it then too...
I realize now that it is probably a sign of how 2009 is going to pan out for me. At least I will have some subject matter for this huh?
To 2009?