kate blogging at elowel.org
aw yeah. 09-11-06 14:08
Canananananada phone:

778 230 0449

reminding you that text messages cost me next to nothing, but phone calls will eat my minutes like ravenous little beasts. So no, I do not need to hear your beautiful voice. Unless you are drunk-dialling my voicemail, which = awesome.
The beach was awesome. Dropping off a bagful of empty liquor bottles at Fred Meyer's, however, was not so awesome. Thank god for my preemptory miniskirt and nascent ability to stare down sales clerks; if anyone who went on that trip would like to share in my $0.70 of bottle-related riches, let me know.

I leave Friday, which means I'll be confined to house from Thursday morning on. Forgive me if I don't cruise around Milwaukie with a trunkful of Everything I Own. Wednesday night should be some kinda killer, though; I'd like to have a little get-together (in the same sense as drink 'just a lil' cola') but don't have a venue, bugger and damnation. December's not too far off, I guess.

Deep emotional turmoil: my mother doesn't know about my girlfriend, who isn't actually my girlfriend, and who further doesn't know about my extracurriculars, most of whom know all about my girlfriend. I feel that starting small is the way to go -- thus, today was the first time the parentals heard the name 'm****.'

Deep emotional awesomeness: my not-girlfriend is totally taking me to dinner tomorrow. And by taking, I mean she is picking me up at my house, like a real date and everything. I have not had a real date in years now and have no idea what one does on such things anymore, which would explain why our first date culminated in a haircut. (YES WTF I KNOW) Still, couple-y things are coming back to me. Bought her a souvenir t-shirt when I was up at the beach, and called her every day (drunk-dialing counts). We hold hands a lot. We made out in my car, parked in front of my house in the dark. We grabbed some food the other day and I totally usurped the bill and paid her way. She visited me at work and I spent the next two hours on shift flipping the fuck out. Dan has started making gagging noises whenever I go on too long, which is a sure sign that we have veered into Cute Coupledom, but he can shut his shiny little mouth; I've heard way too much about his little boyfriends over the years for him to deny me my Proud Girlfriend Oh My God Isn't She Just The Cutest Most Amazing Thing Moments. I think.

There doesn't seem to be any satisfactory way to end this post.
I have no work tomorrow, Lucky jeans are crazy soft/comfy -- like Joe's, only half the price and lacking quality somewhere, I'm sure -- *and* I found another henley. *And* aviators. AVIATORS.

So I'm a material whore, but I'm a material whore who, um, rocked her 45 day performance review and pretty much has a job guaranteed over the hols. swell!

Oh, and B was telling us today about the madhouse that is Le Rack circa winter hols. People pissing in the fitting rooms rather than wait in line for the restrooms, folks packed so tight on our floor it's hard to walk, 90% of the workforce quitting halfway through the first day, etcetera etcetera PEOPLE ARE WONDERFUL, AREN'T THEY JUST.

Actually, somebody peed in the men's fitting rooms just yesterday. All over the place. Knew who it was. Couldn't do anything about it.

Think I'll bring that up next time Kenneth complains about barista-ing.
status melting goodbye. 06-26-06 22:48
I should start by saying that straight up no kidding, I am the butchest lady in my department and possibly the entire store, with the exception of the girl who works in shoes who I am pretty sure is actually a lesbian. Or she just keeps her hair short and wears man-clothes; the two aren't the same, I know. And that is pretty sad, because I am far far far from butch. (Bad faux lesbian! Bad!)

Anyway, yesterday when I went into work, S called me "a man" and chastised me over the course of an hour because I didn't notice that her hair was "different" and "gross" and "totally needed something done to it, how can you not see that?!"

And if I've ever said anything like that to any of you, please accept my sincere apologies. And these babies are sincere.

However. Max, you're still an old man.

P.S. I totally forgot to mention that I want to order one of these babies sometime soon soon soon, and that if anyone wants to go in with me and reduce shipping, like, exponentially. well. that'd be sweet. just throwing that out there.
Heather from Calgary is a damn fine photographer, almost to the point of annoyance:

"Let's not go into the party; I want to find Herr Han and take a picture with him!"

"Yes, it's negative a million degrees out, but hang on, I just want to get this one picture..."

Anyway, she's amazing, and I figured it was time to plug her Flickr on elowel. Because I am feeling generous.

Other than that, my car magically arrived in the driveway yesterday (after a quick trip out to Beaverton to visit my credit union). I spent today vacuuming, spot-scrubbing, and polishing various bits of the inside, as well as giving the outside a thorough washing. All it needs is new brake pads & spark plugs/wires, and the bitch'll be ready to motor.

And, finally, just when you thought it was safe to go out in Portland, three grown men are assaulted. righteous indignation goes here.

p.s. congrats to all you soon-to-be graduates. ain't it keen?

the balance ball purportedly makes my abs hard and sexy, y'all. it also makes me assume a position I normally associate with labor. maternal-type labor. is giving birth a good workout?


I found a new car, which you can see above. duh.
The mileage is much higher than my old car, but it should run well.
Because it took a while for my dad to check it out, the guy dropped $1000 off the price. Plus it comes with a CD player, so I can listen to sweet tunes on the way to work as opposed to whatever the radio stations for old people play. Which, occasionally, is sweet tunes, but mostly not.

ANYWAY LIFE IS SUPER because I should be driving again by this time next week, and that really. really. really. makes me happy.

Also, I haven't had a full cigarette in like two days, and I haven't owned a pack for a week. I'm dying. I'm healthy-ish, but I'm dyyyyiiiiiiiinnnnnnng.

I should buy me some cloves, that'd be sweet.
on access. 05-26-06 23:30
i can't find my keys since the accident, which for normal people would be worrisome, but for me is both normal *and* worrisome.

to wit: they could totally be hiding in my room. or they could be somewhere on the ground near oak grove blvd., just waiting for some stranger to pick them up, put them in his pocket, and walk away with my way-rad canterbury cathedral keychain. CRAPSHIT.

but you better believe i know where my passport and social security card are.
my lip burns are slowly healing!

also, it looks as though the insurance is going to cover any damage to the other two cars (which was minor) and will give me some sort of payoff minus $500 on my car (which was definitely totaled. definitely.) And it seems as though I'll be able to get a pretty decent used car with the payoff (plus most of my savings) that should last me the next four years. Aaron's not returning to college in the fall, which should also make things a lot more comfortable around here.

I'm lucky, too, in that my parents have offered to help me get from home to job and back again, so I should be able to go back to work on Sunday/Monday.

The insurance rates will double or triple or whatever, of course, so i'll have to go to liability-only insurance, but hey, i'm buying a junker anyway.

so it looks like i'm gonna be okay. HOLLA.

I'm watching a loooot of movies, too. Facial healing takes work, kids; burned lip tissue doesn't regenerate on its own! well. it does. but not without hard work!
05-23-06 23:35
today, I totaled both my car and my face in one fell swoop. nothing on face is broken but the car, last I saw, appeared to have a good quarter of the front just accordioned, gone. face is in recovery but all the split lips i have had before are nothing compared to the fish objects inhabiting my face, and there is heavy brusing, and also quite a few scrapes, and apparently airbags actually burn one too, what with the caustic acid and all.

anyway, i admitted fault at the scene and am now facing high insurance and the cost of a new vehicle (i'm just going to go ahead and assume that the faithful Camry cannot be repaired) plus month-long facial damage plus serious reduction in work hours due to Utter Lack Of Mobility. it was a bad idea, but it was pretty true, since the other two drivers verified what i thought happened.

never you mind what happened. 5.30 wakeup + fitful sleeping + allergy meds that cause drowsiness = NO MORE LOWER FACE FOR YOU.

on the other hand, i have vicodin. vicodin! i didn't even get that shit for my wisdom teeth, which hurt... well, actually, a little less than this.

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