Gee, It's Great To Be Back Home

or, 85 Miles in 3 Hours: Thank God for Donuts

The past couple days have been kind of crazy, lots of wacky things happening, sending my emotions bouncing around like one of those 25 cent bouncy balls you buy in the machines at K-Mart.

Starting at the beginning, Sunday afternoon I started gearing up for March Madness with some Kentucky beer cheese and bagel chips. The perfect snack for Easter, wouldn't you say? I settled in to my bed and watched North Carolina take down Wisconsin. A born Tarheel, I was pretty happy with the win, but I was really holding out for the BIG game, the one with my beloved Wildcats. UK went head to head with the Spartans of Michigan State, and if you saw the game you'll agree it was a great match-up.

I hunkered down with my sushi (a Rainbow Roll and a combo California/Spicy Tuna Roll, in case you were wondering. And yes, it's a perfect Easter dinner) to watch Central Kentucky's most popular religion. Tubby's diciples hit the hardwood with some beautiful shots and tremendous effort. All I have to say is: A) There was no reason for all the hub-bub surrounding that exquisite Patrick Sparks Three Pointer at the buzzer. B) Why didn't any refs call the foul on that shot, either? C) As heartbreaking as it was to lose out after a double overtime, UK has a very young team and there's no doubt Big Blue will do incredibly next year.

But Michael, thanks for the condolences.

Sunday night I left Lexington at around 10:30 PM to make it into work at midnight (yep, Spydrz, I'm still making the commute. But it's almost over!). The night was thick and black, and all of Central Kentucky was buttoned down for a veritable monsoon of a storm. And there I was, making the 85 mile trek north on Interstate 75. I was cruising down Lexington's Main Street when I hit a Grand Canyon of a pothole. The shock was so bad I practically heard the bolts flying off my bucket.

I kept motoring on and made it about 20 miles north of Lexington when I heard it. The thud-thud-thud of a flat tire.

Fuck.

I pulled over, pouring rain washing over my once dirty windshield, and did the only thing I knew to do: Call 911.

I started freaking out in the meantime, waiting for my knight in shining armour (or at least a cruiser with shiny lights) but was calmed and occupied by a great set of CDs I just had sent to me.

The State Police sent a Scott County Sheriff's Deputy to me, who apologized when he told me he couldn't change the tire himself. Something about workers comp. laws. The deputy was kind enough to offer to stay behind me with the lights on so other drivers wouldn't hit me, and he called for a wrecker to get my tire changed.

About 45 minutes later a little guy in a gray hooded sweatshirt showed up to do the job. His eyebrow and lip piercings were quite a contrast to me in my wool JCrew sweater and brown, wooden soled clogs.

The whole little fiasco cost me about an hour and 45 bucks from my Fun Fund.

I motored on in the damp of night when I hit my second snag.

See, Ghetto Jetta hates it when her clutch gets wet. She can drive slowly around town when Noah's cruisin' in his ark, but fast on the interstate, fuggetaboutit.

I ended up driving most of the remainder of the trip at 45 miles an hour Interstate 75. A few times I pulled over to give the car a chance to dry out, tapping my clutch while waiting, but the car only really picked up speed once the rain slowed down a bit.

I made it to work in one piece and am back to commuting. The whole move takes place Saturday, so I'm looking for a few strong arms to help out. Sorry I've been gone for a while, I hope that doesn't mean I've been forgotten! I hope the long post makes up for it.

Next up, I'll fill you in on my new apartment.

Cheers,
Kate

Hello. Is there anybody out there?

Wow. I've been away a while.

I started my new job last week and, it is as Bobby Trendy would say, Fabulous and Luxurious.

I have been non-stop busy, doing lots of commuting (nope, I haven't moved to Cincy yet, and Lex is about 80 miles away, so I'm putting lots of miles on the Ghetto Jetta) and getting used to my new schedule, which is midnight to about 8:30 am.

I got a new apartment in the Oakley neighborhood of Cincinnati, and I'll sign that lease Friday. Other than that, I've been just sleeping, working and cheering on my Wildcats. Go Big Blue!

I can't really blog at my new job, being the newbie and all, so hopefully I'll get more time in when I find a public space with computer access. Stay tuned.

Cheers,
Kate

PS. I've been spending lots of time listening to the Scissor Sisters CD. Check it out if you need something to get you movin'!

The Men I've Loved

Chapter One: David

It was my junior year in high school, and David and I were as tight as a fat man caving. We did everything for each other: I got him a summer job, he'd pick me up and take me out to go putt-putting or out for a cup of coffee at Dunkin' Donuts (he liked it really light and really sweet).

Everybody else in school called him Dave, and so I guess that's why I started calling him David. That's what his family called him, and I was practically an honorary member of the quirky little clan of five. I hated being in my house, and David hated being in his, so we'd set out, just driving along the Connecticut shoreline, bopping around with some CD playing. David and I shared a favorite song, "Hotel California." We liked it independently of each other, but the tune had became a sort of anthem for our friendship.

David's family had money. My family was a comfortable, upper-middle class kind of family, but we weren't as big about showing off as David's family was. His mother was dripping in diamonds. She had big huge chunks of ice sparkling as she drove around in her big, black Mercedes Benz. Mrs. T. was a far cry from my mother in her red Volvo sedan, wearing the sweatshirt du jour.

Mrs. T. liked getting her nails done and had weekly appointments to take care of those carefully sculpted talons. She didn't have to work, so she filled her time with driving around the state getting her kids the hottest Beanie Babies (remember how obsessed people were about those?) and eating out (Mrs. T. refused to cook).

David couldn't stand being around his family. His father had high expectations for his oldest son, expectations David could never meet, no matter how hard he tried. So he stopped trying completely.

I loved David because of our bond. I think I fell in love with him because we were both dependent on each other, using the other as an outlet for confession, for confiding, for trust. I was so attracted to him, and that attraction made me bend over backwards for David, even going as far as driving the getaway car when he and another guy decided to steal street signs all around town.

I don't think we took any stop signs.

David was my first love. I fell in love with that feeling of having a person I was totally devoted to. Whereever one was, the other was never too far behind.

David and I never kissed. I think we came pretty close a few times, leaning against the rocks along the shore during the Connecticut summer or driving around 'til dawn, just killing time and burning gas.

I think it was that whole stopping trying thing that made me realize David was not the one for me. He didn't have any drive to excel, and that was a hard pill for me to swallow considering I was a spitfire with goals and accomplishments aplenty to tackle.

Later on, the love died, and I ended up staying in better touch with Mrs. T. than I did David. He dropped out of college one semester and thought about coming to Kentucky with me to enroll in Lexington's community college. He decided against it, instead signing up for the Air Force, later dropping out of that (without permission) and fighting the military for an honorable discharge.

I haven't talked to David in probably three years or so. Last I heard, he was married and had a child on the way. I hope he's happy.

Coming up, Chapter Two: Thomas.

Big Ass Breakfast

Appetizer - Where do you go when you want to relax?
I usually go to a great park where I can walk around, take time to smell the flowers (literally) and enjoy the gifts of nature. They're sooo underrated.

Soup - Tell about something that made you laugh this week.
Oh wow. I've got this hilarious friend Wilhelm whom I was lucky enough to see Wednesday in Cincinnati. He is one of the funniest guys I've ever met. Kind of funny in a dry sense, kind of funny in a wacky sense. I know, strange combination. Anyway. He made me laugh -so- much Wednesday, but my favorite moment probably was when my car got hit Thursday morning. Seriously. Someone rear ended my car Thursday morning before I made my way back to Lexington. It happened around 7:30 in the morning (and I was in a dead-stupor kind of sleep) and Wilhelm ran down the house steps and woke me up in a tizzy. My car, as I've already expanded on, is a piece of junk (but it's paid for, so that's a major plus). So Wilhelm and I ran out there and explored the bumper, which was already tarnished by a few spots of peeling paint. The whole moment was so bizarre, but it actually was very comical for me.

Salad - What is your favorite texture?
What context are we talking here? Am I getting tied up? Then I'd definitely have to say silk. Am I going to sleep? Then I'd say 400 thread count 100% cotton. Am I laying on the floor? Then I'd have to say a nice, plush carpet. I HATE the texture of those weird blankets you can only find in hotels. So weird.

Main Course - If you were to publish your autobiography, what would the first sentence be? "It was never easy for me. I was born a poor black child." Gotta love Steve Martin.

Seriously, it would probably be something like this: You know, I never did stop learning things the hard way.

Dessert - Do you celebrate St. Patrick's Day? If so, how?
Faith and beggorah! Of course I celebrate St. Patrick's Day. I have a pin I've been wearing for about 24 years now (wow, I'm old) that says Kiss Me I'm Irish. So far, nobody's taken me up on that (well, at least as far as I can remember. After a few pints of green beer, things can get hazy). I actually am more of a fan of Guinness on St. Patrick's Day. And I always make a special point of hearing some great Irish music, even if that means I have to put in my Chieftains CD.

"Igor, She's Alive!"

Oh my sweet blog, how I've missed you!

Since we last met, I've been to Cincinnati twice, filled out an application on an apartment and have already started packing boxes.

This moving thing pretty much sucks.

There's this sweet ass apartment in Oakley (an up and coming neighborhood in Cincinnati) I really want, and I should hear back today whether I've been accepted (that damn credit check could be the one hang up). The apartment is very VERY affordable and has everything I want, well, except a dishwasher. That's the price I pay, though, for wanting to sock away a little money. I'd like to have enough cash in hand to buy a new to me car by the end of the calendar year.

More details on the new job (I start Sunday night!!) to come in the days ahead.

It's great to be back bloggin'.

Cheers,
Kate

Rollin' On A River

Let the trumpets sound, champagne all around because Kate's got a job.

Yes, indeedy... a job. No, not a job, but a career.

I am in fact moving to Cincinnati.

I got offered a good job yesterday at a solid station, and I accepted this morning.

The nuts and bolts:
10% raise from my current salary
$1000 in moving expenses
One year contract
Benefits and all the other trimmings

The fluff:
Solid, oftentimes #1 station
#1 morning show
Top CBS affiliate in the nation
Great news director
High retention rate
Teaching through praise and constructive criticism (no yelling or meanness!)

I'm not bowled over by the hours (11 pm to 7 am M-F) but at least I get my weekends off, right?

I start March 14th, and will officially move up there in April (will stay in Lex for the weekends, crash at a friend's house during the week).

And So The Saying Goodbye Begins

My best friend at work is a miracle worker.

He's the best television news anchor I've ever seen. An excellent journalist and an even better family man all rolled into one (which is practically unheard of in this business), TK's done so much for me.

Professionally, he's given me something to aspire to. A great story teller, he always gets the facts right and has a way of getting to the feeling of the story. TK gets the soundbites that either impart the emotion or the What's In It For Me factor that every viewer wants to see.

Personally, he's been a rock. TK has supported me through my darkest hours, a crossroads of self discovery and growth, and he's listened to me through all my trials and triumphs. TK's my biggest cheerleader and likely the one person with whom I can most identify.

We have three more days to relish the professional relationship we have: As my anchor, TK depends on me for clear, engaging copy that's concise and appreciated by the viewer. TK depends on me to keep him abreast of the latest changes by that little earpiece he wears "Hey, our liveshot just crashed. Float A7, it may be revived in the B block." "We're running over(time wise). I'm gonna kill the State Budget story and we'll do a generic tease at the end of the block."

I depend on TK to make my newscast look good. I depend on him to be my co-pilot, so to speak, taking my directions and keeping our plane in the air. As long as TK and I operate as a team, we won't crash and burn.

Today TK gave me an excerpt of a story I wanted to share with all of you. It's from "The Pearl" by T.H. White.

You hold a block of metal in your hand and it is solid.
Press a block of pure gold against a block of silver.
When you separate them they seem unchanged.
But a chemist will show you where they have been in
contact, invisible flecks of gold have wandered in and
buried themselves in the silver.

I think people are the same way. Part of you enters them,
part of them enters you.
Long after you forget the names and faces, they are
still a part of you. Sometimes it is frightening to
think that every person you have ever hated, or feared
or run away from is part of you. Bus so is every person
you have ever learned from, every friend you ever had.

Thanks TK. You've made a difference in my life. More than you'll ever know.

Thanks

to all my regular readers, and to those who get here by random searching, Danke.

Y'all have pushed my count up past the 10k mark.

If I only had a dollar for every hit, then I'd be sitting pretty.