Archive for October, 2008

Today, I’m a real LOLcat:

Tonight, I might recycle my costume from last Halloween. If I manage to get out from behind the computer.

Last night, I saw this at the store and mistook him for a real person:

I giggled at my own silliness and walked toward it to get a closer look. It started cackling and moving its eyes, so I screamed rather audibly and jumped back.

Josh laughed rather audibly at my reaction. LOLjosh?

Was: I Hate My Life
Was Also: I Love My Life

I lost my Sidekick LX on Saturday. It’s pretty much the worst thing that has happened to me since I left New York. When my friend and I discovered that it was missing, we called the Satellite, where we’d been all night (obviously) and every cab company incessantly. We tried calling the phone, of course, but it was either silenced or thrown into the street because of the obnoxious Junior Vasquez dance party ringtone.

I was worried also that my phone might not be lost or broken in the middle of the street, but stolen, which could be even worse than simply not having it. Some random (or not-so-random?) loser out there can now get in touch with every friend, relative, coworker, doctor, one-night stand, massage therapist, business contact, and total stranger I’ve ever had. He can read all my email from the past year, so he knows what I’ve been working on and how much I charge. He can log into my AIM account and talk to anyone as if he were me. He has my bank info, my doctor info, my juicy friend gossip. He has my random thoughts, shitty writing project ideas, shopping list, bike research, movie rentals…

In my frazzled state, I tried to convince myself that I’m really not that important or interesting, and it’s unlikely that someone would go out of their way to take my phone and search it for valuable information. My friends consoled me, and I consoled myself, agreeing that it might turn up.

I spent the next day wallowing in my own misery, taking sleeping pills and suffering the consequences of my usual series of Saturday-night-bad-decision-making. Every now and then, I feel so ill that I am actually convinced that I may be on the brink of death and nothing short of a visit to the emergency room will curb my impending doom. I never end up going; it just feels like I should.

I was still feeling shaky when I woke up Monday morning. I rolled over, turned on a laptop to see what time it was, and began getting ready for work. Normally, the alarm feature on my phone would wake me, but that’s gone.

As I got ready, I started thinking about the things I needed to do that week and wanted to make a to-do list. I very much enjoyed the notes feature on my phone for jotting down my intentions, but had to revert to my small spiral dinosaur notebook and hope that I would remember having made the list so I could try to accomplish some of its items before it became obsolete.

My phone also served as my non-exercise mp3 player, so I had to bring my shuffles to work with me. It’s great for exercise, but I like having a display for my commute so I can choose specific songs. Also, I’ve been “reading” The Audacity of Hope on cd/mp3, which is not a shuffle-friendly activity.

So I silently cursed the free world for my whole hour-long commute, not having a book or anything to play with. I’m sure I saw a million cool things that I wanted to take a picture of, but my phone was also a camera, and it’s not worth it to bring my 5-year-old brick of a digicam everywhere “just in case.”

My phone also served as my clock, so I spent most of the day not knowing what time it was. I dug up my analog watch to wear on Tuesday, at which time I was promptly and rightly made fun of.

Every second I spent without my phone, I slipped further and further into the Dark Ages. I had purchased an actual book to read on my commute, I was using pen and paper to record everything (I have a terrible memory), I was wearing a watch. Next thing you know, I was going to be walking around carrying a parasol, wearing long Victorian dresses, and declaring, “I say!” every time someone made a ghastly remark.

This had to stop.

On Wednesday, I took the plunge. I accepted that there was no hope of recovering my lost phone and went into the depths of Hell (a T-Mobile store) in hopes to preserve what was left of my bleak and pathetic life. This was a moment I have always dreaded—being at the mercy of some shit-talking sales punk who feels smart because he can rattle off cell phone features and rob me blind at the same time. I hate those kids and every bone in their sniveling little bodies.

Thanks to a coworker and a nearly liquid lunch, I got a G1, the new Google phone that has been out for a week. The stars realigned, there was peace in the Middle East, and my life was good again.

My phone is fucking rad and you are all jealous of me. Here’s why:

1. It’s faster than the iPhone.

2. It’s a tri-band GSM phone so I can use it when I go to Asia.

3. The camera is better than my actual digital camera (3.0 megapixel).

4. I can watch YouTube videos.

5. OMG TEH GOOGLES. Before I sort of lived on Gchat, and now I really live on Gchat. I use Gmail, I read Gdocs, I love Gmaps, I belong to Ggroups, and I am straight-up illin, G-Money… what?

However, some things about it suck:

1. There’s no separate headphone jack, so I have to use the provided USB headphones.

2. The dialer interface is not as easy to use for simple operations like managing voice mail messages and adding contacts from your call log. I may just need to play with it some more.

3. It’s a touch screen, and parts of it get touched that shouldn’t be, which makes me feel like an irresponsible, jail-bound citizen.

4. The browser display isn’t formatted, so I have to scroll sideways. I don’t like doing that.

5. The bill will be a little higher than my Sidekick bill.

But still. Gchat.

I guess I should have expected there to be pros and cons. I’m still discovering more as time goes by. My biggest issue now is pulling my contact list off the Danger server. I don’t have anyone’s number right now unless they’ve called me, and even then, without a discernable area code, I don’t know who’s who.

At the moment, I’m just happy to have a phone again, and I’m thrilled it’s not the busted Nokia I was using between Sidekicks for the better part of a year. But I’m also working for a living again, so there’s that…

National Yell At Kat Month (October) is officially coming to a close. Although I was yelled at by many a great hater, I had some good times too. Here’s my month (more or less) in the form of motivational posters:

Looks like I’m a shoe-in for Vice President. Of the Internet.

With pizza! (Thanks, Steve! OM-NOM-NOM-NOM-NOM.)

Addendum: My name is embedded in this image twice. It was so brilliant, I didn’t even notice.

I love how in the last decade (last three decades in Seattle), large coffee chains have built their brands around the idea that we all need a cup of fresh-brewed coffee in the morning, and it will taste even better if we don’t have to make it ourselves. As a nation, we are entitled to a treat each morning, just for waking up, getting dressed, and heading into work.

Even if you don’t like coffee, there’s something for everyone, including borderline “coffee-inspired” frappuccinos and fancy flavored lattes. Cold or hot, these are basically high-end milkshakes, made with slightly better ingredients than you’ll find at your local McDonalds. (And since McD’s introduced their new line of iced coffees, the margin may have become even tighter.)

Out of all my options for cold stuff, I like Tully’s the best. They don’t hide behind some stupid made-up name. They admit they sell milkshakes, in several delicious flavors, which you can drink in the morning without feeling silly because you’re ordering them from a coffee place. Instead of getting a clear plastic cup full of coffee-flavored ice shards, I get a nice, thick, tasty milkshake.


Healthy, tasty food for self-centered bitches

Non-Stick Cooking Spray
Vegan Original Boca Burger Patty
Orowheat Country Buttermilk Bread
Cheddar Veggie Slices
Smart Balance Light Butter Spread
Heinz Tomato Ketchup

Large Frying Pan
Spatula, Preferably from Spatula City
Butter Knife
Plate (Optional)

Other Stuff
An Inflated Sense of Self-Worth and Entitlement (Optional)

Prep Time
Somewhere between one and the number of minutes left in your lifetime. That is, however long it takes you to go to the store, get the stuff you need, and bring it back to your kitchen.

Cook Time
About 10 minutes if you focus on what you’re doing instead of fucking around with a bunch of other junk.

Cooking Instructions
1. Set the stove to medium heat.

2. Cover the inside of the frying pan with non-stick cooking spray.

3. Wait for the little sizzling sounds that indicate the pan is at maximum temperature, and place a Boca Burger patty in the pan. If meat is a must, you could use a regular lean hamburger patty and retain partial nutritional value. However, using vegan products when possible is what makes it a Platty Katty Bratty Patty. It’s true, Boca Burgers do not at ALL taste like regular hamburgers. Don’t even try to compare them. Instead, you should just decide that you are eating something totally different, and it happens to contain an extra serving of vegetables that you probably wouldn’t get otherwise.

4. Flip that shit!

5. When the patty is a darker shade of brown, set it aside and say, “I’ll deal with you later.”

6. Cover the inside of the frying pan with the chichi non-dairy butter I told you to get. Did I mention it’s non-dairy? Yeah, many people are slightly lactose intolerant and don’t even know it. I think I may be one of those people, since I break out with acne when I eat too much dairy. Plus, this butter is fortified with omega 3’s and has half the fat of regular butter. The package says that the light version we’re using is not ideal for frying, but it’s okay to break the rules on this one because I said so.

7. While you wait for the butter to melt, spread a thin layer of butter on one side of each slice of bread. Seriously, make this layer thin or you’ll have a big ol’ sloppy mess on your hands. Kind of like sexual relations in high school.

8. Put each slice butter-side-down in the frying pan.

9. Place a slice of chichi non-dairy cheese on top of each slice of bread. Notice it has the look and texture of the American singles you’re used to eating. I promise, once it’s all done cooking, you won’t be able to tell the difference.

10. Place the cooked patty on top of one of the slices of cheese. It should still be warm enough to melt it a little.

11. Place the other slice of bread on top of the patty, cheese-side down. Watch the magic happen.

12. Flip that shit!

13. Once the bread is golden brown and toasty to your liking, transfer the sandwich to a plate.

14. Pour a metric ton of ketchup onto your plate. Or, if you’re like me, squeeze the ketchup directly onto the sandwich as you eat it. Ketchup is one of the best condiments ever invented and needs not be spared. In fact, Ronald Reagan liked it so much, he wanted to make it a staple in the vegetable food group. Luckily, the ingredients I have selected for this dish are low-cal and packed with nutrients, so you don’t need to lie to yourself about your vegetable intake. Just eat the sandwich and like it.

As some of you know, I’m largely pro-health and vehemently anti-fast food. If I ever get to a point in life where compensation and resources aren’t an issue, I’d like to make a career of traveling to schools in low-income areas where I could show families how they can save money with healthy alternatives to rush-dining. A large part of the project involves comparing the cost-per-serving of a meal cooked at home to the price of menu items from major chains.

I ran some approximations in my head as I walked to work this morning, and although I spared no expense when choosing the components of this particular sandwich, it’s still less than the price of a McDonald’s Big Mac. You could easily substitute regular white bread, low-fat American cheese, lean ground beef, etc. and cut that price in half without a huge increase in calories. I could go on about side and beverage substitutes (I don’t usually eat sides when I eat at home, but they’re a big part of my spiel due to their empty calories and popularity), but then I might as well draw up a business model and start preparing a presentation while I’m at it.

As the title implies, I’m somewhat of a brat and don’t care about other people, so launching this idea will take some time.

…of causing a DEATH.

I got a late start this morning, even later than usual. When I reached my bus stop, I discovered I had just missed it. They’re supposed to run every 10 minutes, but it was the top of the hour when they start running a little further apart. I reluctantly sought cover in one of the often nasty-smelling bus shelters along Fourth Avenue and waited.

There, instead of street-bum-stank residue, I found three things: A can of Pepsi, a quarter, and a Camel cigarette.

They were stacked together, as if left for an intended recipient. I was surprised someone would do such a thing, knowing the amount of foot-traffic on Fourth Avenue on a Monday morning. Weren’t they afraid the cigarette would get wet? Weren’t they worried that some or all of the items might be stolen? Who left this stuff? Who was it for?

Maybe it was for no one. Maybe someone just left it there. Maybe they left it there for someone like me, who reached her bus stop just a bit too late and had to wait forever in the increasingly abhorrent Seattle weather.

No… I don’t drink Pepsi, and I don’t want to smoke a cigarette, and I don’t need a quarter. I decided to practice the spirit of giving and contribute an item to the jackpot.

I added a condom.

Someone out there better have a really good day.