these are a few things that i'd like to know.

me.

1. if it was my choice, i would cancel the months of november and february.
2. i HATE clowns. and machinery underwater. it gives me a panic attack to think about falling into the jungle cruise around the hippo part. if i did, don't rescue me. i wouldn't want to live through that.
3. i also have a fear of sharks, needles, self inflicted pain and most recently real live snakes.
4. i could live on chips, coffee, peanut butter and beer alone... oh wait, i do.
5. i think cats and horses are weird. i don't trust them.
6. one time i had a competition w. heather in 10th grade: who could wear their jeans the most number of days in a row without having someone notice. there was no winner.
7. i was the only girl on a football team once. i played left tackle/right guard. i gave a boy a bloody nose.
8. once i woke up in the middle of a surgery and punched the doctor.
9. when i travel anywhere alone i fake a british accent because people treat you nicer.
10. my last meal would consist of an arnold palmer half and half, a double turkey cheeseburger and sweet potato fries.
11. i never wear socks.
12. mary martin in peter pan changed my life.
13. i wish i could have gone to college for 8 years cause i love to learn. seriously.
14. one day, i will marry joey fatone.
15. one time i drank mouth wash and barfed for days. don't try it.
16. my middle name is diane.
17. i want to be a graphic designer for prescription drugs. it looks so easy.
18. ultimately i want to end up in a beach house on the cape.
19. i have the best friends in the world. and i'll fight you on that.
20. i love kids the most cause they say the best things ever.
21. i like to make up words and use them IRL.
22. i sing in the shower when my roommates aren't around because we have great acoustics.
23. i really want to go to africa. i don't know if i have the guts.
24. the smell of gasoline is my favorite. no lie.
25. i think my sister is the best thing that ever happened to me. she is the best girl.

dudez.

1. brown hair | black hair | blonde hair | red hair

2. tall | short | same height as you

3. ear piercings | eyebrow piercings | snake bites | no piercings | other

4. tattoos | no tattoos | idgaf

5. skater | punk | player | indie | cowboy | musician | prep | jock | other

6. shy | outgoing | in between

7. mellow | hyper | loud | quiet

8. blue eyes | brown eyes | green eyes

9. wears tight jeans | wears normal jeans | other

10. converse | vans | nikes | skate shoes | other

11. listens to: metal | rap | indie | classic rock | country | all | other

12. compliments too much | compliments when necessary

13. jokes around all the time | jokes when necessary

14. sensitive | hides emotion | acts tough

15. hobbies: computer | music | skating | sports | drawing | fishing | other

16. loves to hold | loves to be held

17. tons of muscles | fit | skinny | chubby

18. pale | average | tan | dark

19. cusses a lot | never cusses | moderately cusses | only cusses around friends | who even gives a fuck

20. wavy hair | curly hair | straight hair | long hair | longish hair | short hair

we are all, all of us, in the gutter. but some of us are just looking at the stars.

Lately I have found that I have no free time on my hands. I am in the middle of a move on top of a 12 hour work day. I know, what am I complaining about?

But, I am used to being satiated and unemployed. So this is quite odd.

The downside to this madness is that I really don't have a lot of time to peruse the internet. I am behind on my tweets, constantly have 69 notifications on FB (I know, so popular) and 27 Google Buzzes a day. I can't keep track of people telling me how cool I am or sharing cool stuff with me or stalking. Because of this, I am always constantly a few steps behind other people's news. I also am wicked slow on finding out about the new cool blogs and shit. This pisses me off because, on days like today, when I have 2 hours where I should be packing or something, I am fucking fixated on the following websites:

thelovelybones.tumblr.com (currently on pg 34)

tiresome.tumblr.com

gotwisdom.tumblr.com

Basically, I sit here for 2-4 hours and look at how much cooler other people are. It is absolutely addicting for me. I look at these pictures and these quotes and wonder what the fuck I have to do to be that super. I mean it. If I took pictures at all, they would NEVER look like anything resembling anything. Sometimes I take pictures of people's butt cracks. That's about it.

But I sit here.

Hour after hour.

And stare longingly at these erotic pictures of Polly Pockets and wish.

let's make some music, make some money, have some models for wives

I was conversing with my roommate Jon last night about what I wanted/am going to be when I grow up. Grown up thoughts have been plaguing me these days. I think because my taxes are due and I actually have a real job. And I have been paying bills on time.

Regardless.

Jon and I were discussing grown up thoughts about futures. I told him that I want to be a fierce single mom with a outcast son with some odd name who will probably end up resenting me for my inevitable lack of cool. I want to "dedicate myself to my work" and when I tell people that I do, in fact, do that, I want to mean it. Whatever that work is. I am going to dedicate myself to it. And my outcast son. Jon added in a partner to the mix that enjoys the same past times/passions as me but is involved purely on a marriage of convenience. I think that has some strong pros.

breakin' up is hard enough

I recently went through a break up. As vague as that sounds, it is truthful. It was recent and it was a break up of a relationship. Very mutual. And ended as well as any ending of a relationship can end.

But, this is my first relationship and my first breakup. Naturally, I am no good at this. It's a very drawn on process. There is that awkward conversation you have with your sister, mom and close buddies where they listen to you go on and on about how okay you are and blah blah blah. And it happens over and over, and after a while, you kinda believe it.

There is also the memorabilia you accumulate over the course of however long you were together. Pictures, tshirts, inside jokes, notes, the list goes on. What do you do with those things? Do you put them in a box and keep them for the rest of your life? Does that make you a hoarder? Or do you throw them out and c'est le vie?

Lastly, there are the possessions left behind. Specifically theirs. I could care less about the black tank top from forever 21 or whatever. But, staring at your socks on my floor is getting really heartbreaking. They smile up at you like, remember when these came off? HA! And now they are there. You can't just throw out socks, people need those. It's winter. So, he might want them back. Which provides another problem... how? Do I send them Fed Ex style with a little note like "Here are your socks back"? Do I actually throw them out into the garbage or donate them to the Salvation Army? They are socks for God's sake but I am baffled. I honestly don't know what to do with them.

So, they sit there, smiling up at me.

Maybe I will hide them under my bed and hope they shut up.

baby are you down?

I am ashamed to say that it has been over six months since I last updated. I am sure the 5 readers that follow me/read this are super stoked to find a 2010 date at the top of this thing. It is impossible to sum up six months of a life to catch people up. I hate being asked, so, what have you been up to? How can I possibly answer that question in 30 seconds? Do I give a month by month analysis of my life sans the gory details?

"Well, in June, I started camp..." etc etc.

I usually just answer, "Oh, just livin' life!" It is the most simple, avoidance based answer. It is truthful and to the point. I mean, honestly, I am living life. I am just not telling you what my life entails. It's not wrong of me to shield you from the boring details of my job, love life, hobbies and everything in between. I am doing you a favor. I don't really think that you should have to suffer through a 15 minute description of my latest wrestling match with a half naked autistic 8 year old. (I am speaking of my job here, not my hobbies or love life). (Although if you ask my roommates they might say that would be a perfect description of my love life as well).

So, I have been living life. That's pretty much it. If you are extra super curious folk, and want to know more. Please forward any and all specific questions to my Twitter or Facebook accounts which are currently acting as my agents.

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.