i want everything with you.

Update: SUBBING AT CHARTER SCHOOLS FOR FIRE MONSTERS WITH CURSING PROBLEMS.

TUTORING MY FACE OFF AT NIGHT.

OASIS ORIENTATION FOR THE NEXT MILLION WEEKENDS OF MY JUNE.

ONLY 8 HOURS OF MY DAYS ARE NOT SPENT WITH CHILDREN.

Funny story time!

Steve, Di, Lu, Jones and Will dropped by Saturday night to come spend quality friendship time with me having pizza and beers in Williamsburg. We went to Charleston and it was surprisingly quiet for a Sat. night. We ran into some peeps we knew. Steve took us on a 5 mile journey to find "Barry" on Berry St. We never got there because when Steve says Berry it sounds like Barry and because of this we traipsed all over Brooklyn searching for Barry in a direction that was nowhere near where we were. Jones jumped a fence to pee and cut his hands up pretty badly. Di made him hold a tampon in his hand to soak up the blood. I had to pee too, but unfortunately I did not have the luxury of being a dude so I held it for probably two hours straight. There was a point, while perched on a trash can, where I was seriously considering letting it out. But I am a lady and ladies don't pee in cans. I waited until we got off of the subway, where a nice gentleman offered me a cup, and ran into a Spanish bar and waited for what seemed like hours with a bunch of men "accidentally" touching my butt. When finally I crawled into the bathroom over mounds of paper towels, I went for like, 2 straight minutes. It was the longest, most satisfying pee ever. We went back to my apartment, Lu fell asleep on the couch while I helped Jones clean the cuts on his hands. Poor guy. Then, goodbye time.
As I was saying goodbye, finally with the guts to make some sort of definite move, leaning in, taking a breath to say something, anything... my earring catches his hand and flies off under a car. Moment ruined.
If someone was filming it, I would use it as a film clip to perfectly describe me and my life.
Scenario: Hey, Kat. Nice to meet you. So, what are you all about?
(I silently play the clip of that moment with whatever video device is around)
Oh, k.

facebook fad equals notification bad

I love how Facebook has become increasingly detailed.  Despite the fact that I cannot find friend requests and events I have been invited to, I love being kept extremely up to date on what everyone in my network is up to. For example: I just found out that Rachel Phaneuf is Esme Cullen from Twilight via "Which Twilight Character Are You?" app... First of all, who is that girl? Second, I totally thought she was more of a Rosalie, but obviously Facebook has the upper hand.

But I do love knowing about every little thing someone touches on that thing.  It's fascinating. 

So now I present to you the top 3 Facebook Things I Hate To Love.

3. Quizzes

I hate how many fucking times my news feed is overwhelmed by stupid quizzes from people I friended in 2004.  Megan, my roommate, has specifically voiced her opinions about quizzes to the masses with a status.  Ironically, the biggest perpetrator not only "liked" the status but commented, "I KNOW GIRRR... RIGHT?!" She had no idea that by taking the "Which David Bowie Persona Are You?" that poor Meg would have to scroll by it a million fucking times.  But, I love knowing that people take time out of their day to share that with me. 

2. Liking 

This is probably the funniest thing to happen to Facebook in recent months. I recently posted lyrics to a song and a buddy from way back "liked" my status.  I was flattered. But, what does it mean? Simply... you like whatever was posted, said, or shown.  "Kat Murphy likes this" is another way of commenting.  I can like that you posted a picture of someone deep throating a beer bottle because it's funny.  I can like that you quoted Dane Cook in your status.  Because I do, I like those things.  And I am going to let you know.  It is way easier than commenting "LOL girl. tht pic is whack." I just let you know that I like it.  Otherwise, I would have liked it silently.  On the other hand, as someone who has had things liked,  I don't think the word "like" describes the emotions that you feel as both the liker and the likee.  One question remains, where is not like?

1. Pages

WTF is pages?  I am pages with Boo from Monster's Inc, Topo Gigio, Bonfires, BBQs, Apple Students and The Old Man in the Mountain.  I have a friend who is pages with Walls.  I ask again WTF?! They are the stupidest/most fun thing to ever hit Facebook.  I love getting a notification that Jon has become pages with Hugs. You know you can become pages with Facebook? So, your Facebook page is pages with Facebook??? LOLWUT? Congrats Facebook.

There you go, the Top 3 Hate to Love Facebook Apps.  Go ahead, love them, no shame. Just know that I am watching you via Facebook News Feed. 

silent night, holy night.

We live in a generally quiet neighborhood.  During the day, there are people milling about.  Lots of strollers, people with dogs, etc.   There might be one or two cars that fly by to which we scream "This is a neighborhood" whilst shaking our fists in protest.  Oh, and one lady who lives directly across from us that never should have been a mother because her favorite past time is beating the hell out of her daughter with a flip flop and cursing.  But, I stand by the fact that it is generally quiet... during the day.

At night, however, there is a symphony of outrageous sounds. We have the typical sirens (both police and fire/emergency) and the pumping of reggaeton jams with basses that shake your bed.  Always some sort of large, hissing truck that picks up one garbage can and goes off into the night.  Just one!  There is usually some sort of domestic disturbance.  (Apparently if your husband turns off the tv while you are watching it, it is okay to alert the entire block.) I chalk these sounds up to normal city sounds.  There is one noise however, that defies all logic.

The previous summer we began to hear what is either a little child having night terrors, whining "noooooo" and crying, a girl who is having the time of her life while her boyfriend is going to town on her or a severely disturbed cat wandering the alleys.  We couldn't figure it out.  And it seemed to be coming from every direction.  

We were watching tv recently and heard it again.  With the weather getting nice and all it seemed logical it would begin again.  Unfortunately, this sound is not only very creepy, it is also intermittent and unpredictable.  Just as you are falling off to blissful slumber... "nooooooo.....nooooooo" begins.  And then it will stop for 20 minutes.... "noooooo".  It is mind numbing to lay there drifting in and out of consciousness wondering what the hell is lurking outside of your house.  

My question is, how will I ever know?  Dare I search the darkness for this stray cat?  Or peak voyeuristically into windows to see which lady neighbor is doing the kind of hug that makes babies? Or do I call all the parents on the block and tell their kids to shut up? Am I doomed to restless summer sleep? 

Does anyone know a good psychotherapist?

the northern lights and the southern comfort.

Went to NJ again for the 400th time this year.  More NJ in '09.  It was for Happy B-Day-Q Kim/Saves the Day & Alkaline Trio but I decided to stay on Sunday for baseball, the great American past time as displayed by dudes in shorts and hats.

The B-DayQ was pretty much the time of my life.  I had probably 69 beers (2 funneled, thanks Lu.) And 420 chips/dips.  The weather was absolutely beautiful and perfect for a gathering of friends.  I managed to hit a whiffle ball & get hit in the back of the head with a frisbee.  You can chalk that up to good aim by both the thrower and my head.  Lu did an excellent job grilling even though a LARPer made her drop a burger into the flames by "trying to help".  

I also managed to get in a tickle fight. Again. This seems to be happening more and more to me the older/drunker I get.  I don't know what my new fascination with tickle fighting is, but I have the pics to prove it happens often.  But other than that, nothing quite embarrassing happened.

The show was pretty awesome.  It was very hot and sweaty in there and we seemed kinda old compared to a lot of the crowd, but I saw a girl crowd surf 13 times; that was pretty cool.  Alk3 played one of my faves and I pretty much bugged out and jumped a lot.  Also, thought the bassist was a babe until he turned around and he looked like Uncle Fester from Adam's Family. 

Unfortunately one of our friends got into a 7 car pile up and had to get 7 seven staples in her head.  One for each car I guess? She was a champ though and bled a lot. Some guy sup'd her apparently, which rocks for both her and the guy.

That night we ate whatever food was left over, took birthday shots for/with Kim and passed out in her basement.  I had a dream that I murdered a lot of people.

The next day, which was also beautiful, I decided to stay in NJ and watch dudes play baseball.  I hoped to find the man of my dreams and what him pound out homers all day, but instead I drank beer with Lu, got an awkward bracelet tan and heckled players.  I did want to play but I was in sandals with no glove.  Next time.

We spent the afternoon in the hottest sun, literally cooking to absolute death, drinking Miller High Life and getting in fights.  But, shirtless dudes=good times, so fun was had.

Then, Lu and I went to lunch with Francis, Kathleen and KJH.  It was an interesting mix of people to have pizza with, but I had a good time.  It was nice to sit on the streets of NB and pretend I was in college again. 

At Lu's house we had a "lay in my backyard and listen to Kid Rock" sesh.  Followed by Rita's Ice (cherry ftw) and a fire pit.

Probably one of the nicest weekends I have had in a while.  Babes, beers, barbeque & baseball. 

attention passengers:

Do not ride the Fung Wah Bus from Boston to New York and vice versa.  It is hell and the most uncomfortable four hours of your life.  

You may be saying to yourselves, "Duh, Kat. You stupid idiot. Of course the Fung Wah sucks. It is 15 dollars and it catches fire!" Save it.

It is 15 dollars.  A steal! And sometimes they get you to Boston in 3.5 hours! And usually there are mad babes to chat with while you are stopped at the McDonald's/Rest Area in CT.  So, I ride it.  I am a dedicated F.W patron for upwards of 5 years.  I have only broken down once and gotten pulled over twice.  I consider the lack of fire emergency a pro.

This particular trip however, I caught the 7 am bus to Boston on Friday morning.  It was wicked early, so everyone on the bus had their own seat (which almost never happens on those things) and just as we are about to leave a man in a woolen three piece 1950s mobster suit with fedora and feather steps on.  I know immediately that even though I am pretending to be snoozing with my headphones, hood and sunglasses on in perfect "don't sit here" demonstration, he sits on my backpack and curses in Spanish. Senor, you could have literally sat ANNNYWHERE ELSE! So, I am peeved I have to squish over to accomodate his luggage AND suit.  I dose off as we pull away towards the bridge.  I am just nodding off when he pushes my shoulder with his hand.  I wake up and turn to him.  He is pointing and chattering at me quickly.  I know "un pocito" I tell him but nod along to his words anyway.  I have no clue what he says, but I agree so I can go back to sleep.  

I sleep for an hour and wake up when we stop.  After grabbing my coffee and sitting back down, Senor opens up a large plastic Tupperware container.  He started eating a BAKED POTATO! At 8 in the morning! Complete with sour cream and cheese!!! I was gagging because of the smell and my proximity to him on the hot bus.  I pull out my VICE magazine that happens to have a fashion spread of topless girls modeling tights and shorts.  My cheeks are burning from embarrassment.  I read the mag and put it back in my backpack because I notice the Senor has fallen asleep. I consider this my chance to catch some zzz's before he wakes me up again and wants to chat.

He wakes up with a bolt and asks me (in spanish) to read my magazine.  I oblige.  I have no reason to say no except for the nudie pictures.  I hand him the magazine and he flips expertly to the topless girls.  I wanted to die.  He spent about 15 minutes inspecting the boobs of these Asian girls. I pretend to be asleep to give him some privacy.  After about half an hour he nudges me again and hands me the magazine.  I take it and turn away.  He begins to talk about his novia (girlfriend) and showing me pictures of her on his phone.  She had a mustache. Thank god by now we are passing Fenway Park and I know that I have five more minutes and then I can bolt. Which I did as soon as the bus was parked.  

On the way back to NYC, I took the Fung Wah again.  I need to learn my lesson.  It was a peaceful ride for the first two hours.  A guy in front of me reading a pretty hefty science text and I were chatting.  He was a babe.  And the girl next to me did not speak to me or eat a baked potato.  She was just listening to tunes and eating chips while I devoured an entire book in one hour.  After the second hour of the trip, a young gentleman behind me starts getting aggressive with words.  He wants the bus drive to pull over and blah blah.  Apparently he really wanted to stop, which the drivers are not obligated to do.  He marches up to the front of the bus and starts yelling at the bus driver.  He storms back and starts cursing about how the bus isn't going to stop.  He is bugging out.  He then proceeds to call the cops (Connecticut State Police) and claim that he has a medical condition and that they need to pull the bus over.  The police respond and pull the bus into a McD's/Rest Area.  The gentelman runs off of the bus and into McDonalds.  Everyone on the bus is hub-bubbing about what is going on and start to get up.  An officer comes on and tells everyone that wants to can get off the bus.  Most do so that they can hear what the cop is telling the driver.  

It turns out that the gentleman lied about a medical condition so that the bus would stop at this specific station.  He lives around the corner from the McD's. So, instead of riding to NY, the bus usually stops here and he gets off and leaves.  He was panicking because he was going to ride straight into NY... Everyone on the bus was laughing about the dude and slinging snarky comments around.  You know, bus relationships happen quickly.  

Then, some B in the back starts yelling that he should have stopped because she does, in fact, have diabetes. She storms off to tell the cops that she is outraged that he didn't stop so that she could eat.  When she stomped back on the guy in front of me and I both start telling her she should maybe plan ahead next time, they don't always stop, managing your sugar is important but you have to be prepared and blah blah. She just stared at us blankly as if she didn't understand.  I had a sinking feeling "diabetes" means "fat ass" to her.  Go ahead, eat those chicken McNuggets girl, you deserve them.  

So, in conclusion, the Fung Wah is cheap, is loud and is unpredictable.  If you are looking for a funny incident to tell your friends about when you arrive at your destination, Fung Wah is the way to go.  If you are looking for a safe, calm ride where people are normal and treat each other with respect, go Megabus.  

i was just a stupid kid back then, i take back every word that i said.

It has been 4 months since I have been to New Hampshire to visit my parents. Since Christmas actually. I grew up in a really small town (population about 3,000). My little elementary school was from K-8 and the high school was about 800 kids from 9 different towns. Everyone knew everyone.
So, naturally, I would run into people I know everywhere. Which is completely true. Doesn't mean I have to like it. In fact, I dread the literal high school reunion when I go to get a sandwich or a cup of coffee at the cafe. It's annoying to tell people over and over about what I am doing, where I am living, etc. Not like I care what they are doing. Some people I run into (sometimes literally) are short and sweet. Chit chat blah blah done. Some people drag it out with long awkward pauses, remember that time when you... and then convincing me to meet up with them and so and so tonight at the Lucky Dog for some laughs and beers. NO! I wasn't friends with you ever, why now? I don't even live here anymore! And you do!
Speaking of living here, even though my house is just like I remembered it, I feel like I am staying at a New England B&B. My childhood room is devoid of most of the things that I filled it with. The posters are off of the wall, all the artwork is stacked in the closet, my old clothes are gone and books are piled in bookshelves and not scattered all over the room. It's clean. And when I went to bed last night, I felt like I was sleeping in a hotel bed. This was the bed that I have slept in since I was 8 and my dad built it for me. It was so foreign. I woke up really confused as to where I was. And it was fucking cold. Even though I like sleeping in a cold room. It is really sad to look around a place that I have had my whole life and feel like I didn't belong there anymore. Like something I had written about in a story but never experienced in real life. Even the city scape mural painted on my wall didn't remind me of home.
I finally felt grown up.
Maybe one day I will stop sleeping with a stuffed animal.... Nah.

the 23 enigma.

work.

oh hai.

babeville.

black dahlia.

navajo.

captain.

grenon.

cheerful.

probably the worst sentence in the english language...

besides "It's not you, it's me", "let's just be friends" or "your skirt is tucked into your underwear and everyone can see your butt" just might be APRIL FOOLS! 

Seriously, I hate April Fool's Day. It's so mean. And it just reminds me of pain and suffering endured during elementary school when some cruel hearted popular girl would be like "Wanna come play chase the boys with us?" Then my heart would burst with 1,000 yesses.  "APRIL FOOLS!!!!!" And they would run away giggling. If I knew the F word then, I would have said it.

I used to come to school with a sling on April 1st to try to trick everyone into thinking I was injured. It never worked and I was just that girl looking for attention from an injury... even though I totally wasn't and I thought it was wicked funny, guys!  The sad thing was I did it every year from 3-5th grade...

I realize that I hold contempt for such holidays as New Year's Eve, St. Patrick's Day and April Fool's Day because they are either set up for the pure face of embarrassment or involve pressures to act like an idiot and therefore embarrass yourself.  Plus, these holidays come with a paralyzing anxiety to perform. 

For example: on NYE you can't be drunk enough, you HAVE to have a resolution and that kiss at midnight, don't even get me started...  St. Patty's is stressful because with a last name like Murphy you HAVE to participate.  Slugging shots of Jameson or Guinness pints, singing Irish drinking songs, wearing green, speaking Gaelic... it's all a requirement. And on April Fool's Day there is a constant paranoia that someone will prank you at every bend.  I was already Rick Roll attempted by Jon via Twitter.  There is also that pressure to perform a prank.  So you rack your brain all day for the perfect thing, google searching "April Fool's Pranks" etc.  By the end of the day you just end up scaring your roommate when she gets out of the shower.  Is drawing a dick on your front door to prank your landlady appropriate? No? Then I have nothing.

I hate holidays that aren't surrounded by love and comfort.  Holidays where it is safe and you are celebrating something (even if you don't believe it happened).  The above holidays are not celebrating anything but paranoia and embarrassment.  And I have enough of that in my everyday life! I don't need to celebrate my short comings by projecting them onto someone else.

So, please, just leave me be today. Okay? 

Obliged.

dear fates, throw me a bone.

Dearest Controller of the Universe,

Hi, you probably know me already, but I'm but your humbled serf/underling, Kat.  You probably have been watching my progression and growth from atop your cloud (or whatever you sit on) and laughing like you are watching the new episode of 30 Rock: loudly, abruptly and intermittently. I am glad you find amusement in my numerous short comings but I am getting older now and I think it is time for you to let me go a little; let me fly free from crippling embarrassment/extremely ironic misfortune. 

If this is not possible I only ask that you stop presenting me with situations in which I seem to drown in 1 inch of water.  It is getting sad and a little tiring.  

Specifically, I would appreciate more dudes in '09.  By "dudes" I mean actual men/boys/guys that I can touch.  Not the naughty touch, just touch.  Seth Rogen, Joey Fatone, 'Jazz' and several other dudes in '09 are not real life.  Stop wafting them towards me like a pungent perfume.  Is this going to be forever?

Also, I ask (beg) that you control my inability to keep my mouth shut.  I know that PBR/Tequila often is to blame for this problem but I know that it is your fault sometimes too.  I do enjoy being snarky, sassy and outspoken, but certain utterances can be contained.

I know you are the same character that makes Meg fall or slip or break things as well as the being responsible for the creation of Snuggies, teen pregnancy, Olivia from the City, molten hot pizza rolls and chub rub... so can you get rid of those things too?

I would be forever indebted to you. YOUR MAJESTY.

xoxo,

Kat

why are you listening to hard rock music?

I love living in close proximity to people who are not your family, but you treat them as such... aka roommates.  For example, this morning I got up around 9am which is early for me.  I stumble in my underwears to the kitchen to make myself a coffee.  I hear what seems to be loud rock music coming from Jon's open door.  This conversation follows:

Me: Why are you listening to hard rock music? (in a grumbly morning voice)

Jon: (peeking out of his room whilst dressing) It's Something Corporate...

Me: Oh, sounds like rock to me.

Jon: You're an idiot.

Jon and I are in no way related... except one time we told an entire party that we were step brother and sister.  His dad married my mom in a romantic Brady Bunch way.  They believed us and it became a disaster from there on out. ANNNYYWAY... Jon and I are not related. But, we were facing each other in the early morning light in our underwear arguing about Something Corporate.  And I thought to myself as I poured my coffee, "Is this real life?" 

Is this how roommates normally interact?  This may not seem weird to anyone else, but I think standing in underwear talking to your roommate is so ridiculous.  I mean granted, it is a home and therefore you are allowed to do what you please (within reason), but it just seems funny to me that underwear interaction is so common and just a shrug of the shoulders.

It is completely my fault.  I think Jon and I are the only ones who do it, so it is natural that we chat in our underwear.  But, listening to "I Kissed a Drunk Girl" at 9am while in your underwear?  It just seems to me that this is behavior for a) a married couple who need to find a new band b) a brother/sister combo c) boyfriend/girlfriend combo... 

Maybe we are breaking down walls here.  Starting a new era of roommate comfortability? We shall see. ROOMMATES EVERYWHERE HERE THIS: UNDERWEAR IS OKAY!