August 31st, 2010 by Kateastrophe

Six years and 24 days ago I moved to Phoenix in the middle of the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad summer heat.  I packed everything I had into my little Corolla S and a small Uhaul.  I put in a mix CD of songs about “Breaking Away” and “Changing Lives” and made my way down the freeway, following love and a new job.  I cried because I was leaving home and scared that nothing was going to work out and I’d be stuck in Phoenix with nothing.

Lucky for me both the new job and the love worked out in a big way.

Matt and I were married ten months after the move.  He is my heart and soul and even though there are moments I miss my home town, being near him IS home.

The job I kept until a year ago today and I still miss it.  I think I truly grew up there.  I got my first big promotion, my first real title, went on my first business trip, earned the trust and respect of big important people and got my first huge, eye-popping raise at Vcommerce.  I made friends I’ll never forget, saw things that changed my life and learned things that have made me a much better person.  Walking out the door was one of the most heartbreaking things I’ve ever done.

However.

This year has given me a lot of new experiences and most importantly, new perspective.  Some crazy (CRAZY!) things happened recently that made me realize that being let go was probably the best “accident” of my life.  Not being at that company or affiliated with some of the people there right now is a really, really, REALLY good thing.  My new job isn’t “ideal” but it’s wonderful.  It’s low stress, secure and the people here are awesome.  I’m learning a lot about a new industry.  Every day it seems new opportunities, some a little more up my ideal career alley, are forming for me.  My expertise and input are valued and utilized here.  Plus, I’ve got a kick-a Assistant Vice-President title that comes with officer level stock match.  It’s awesome. 

This job also helped me make some personal decisions that I don’t think I would have made at the last job.  The baby we lost wasn’t planned but when I was pregnant I realized that if it’s something I choose to do, I can do this job and be a good mom.  I don’t know if I could have balanced things as well at the old job.  Now I feel a lot more comfortable with the possibility of (gulp) having a baby (shh don’t tell).  I have more time to try to be a good wife, sister, friend, chef, exercise junkie, house cleaner (ha! yeah right) or whatever I want to do after work.  I’ve read more books and I’ve spent more time getting to know wonderful friends from church and the neighborhood.  I might even have time to start teaching voice lessons and put that Musical Theatre degree to use!

Needless to say, this job has been a really good thing for me. 

So, as is always the (cliche) story with my life - anyone’s life, really - years later I can look back at the things which, at the time, seemed like the end of the world and realize that they were truly for the best.  Sometimes I look back and feel lucky to have been lead to where I am.  Sometimes I look back and am proud of the decisions I made to get to this place.  Sometimes I laugh at the follies that landed me here.  No matter how I look back at it, I have zero regrets. 

I love my family.  I love my friends.  I love my home.  I love my job.  I LOVE my life.

I can’t wait to see what happens the next 2,214 days.

August 24th, 2010 by Kateastrophe

My hottie-patotie of a husband turns 35 today.  It’s so strange to say that number because growing up, someone who was 35 was old and established and . . . old.  Now I look at Matt and he’s far from old.  One could probably call him established considering we own a house and have these weird career thingies and we almost had a baby and all that stuff.  But old?  Nah.  Just look at that face.

I remember the day I met Matt.  He was with his younger brother Taylor and at first glance I really thought that Taylor was the older of the two.  Matt was 28 at the time and I swore he was 23 or 24.  Matt has this gorgeous baby face that tricks everyone that way.  Plus he still had (and has!) all his hair.  Going to school at BYU where it wasn’t uncommon to find tons of 21 year old balding men, this in an of itself is impressive.  No one believes me when I tell them how old he really is.  In fact, he’s older than most of my close friends husbands which is even weirder considering some of them have 4 kids.  It just throws everybody off.  Anyway, the point of this long, rambling paragraph is that Matt doesn’t look his age.  At all.

In some ways Matt doesn’t act his age either.  His favorite outfit is a pair of Dickies shorts and a Cotton/Poly (MUST have polyester so it doesn’t wrinkle) button up PLAID shirt.  He accessorizes with flip-flops and a hat, usually of the Hurley variety.  Unlike many men I know, he thinks that getting tools as presents is just a way of asking him to do more work.  He wants toys.  4-wheelers, a RZR, accessories for the 4-wheelers or the Jeep . . . anything along those lines or something in the technology family.  We’re getting to the point where there’s not much left to buy him because he has ALL OF IT.  LCD TV, Blu-Ray, Surround sound, fancy computer and monitors, Xbox and accessories, iPod, extra TVs for the man-cave and his recent birthday gift of an iPad (which has caused him to stop sleeping because he MUST.PLAY.ALL.NIGHT!) has completed the technology takeover. I’m not sure there’s anything left to get him.  Next year for his birthday he’s getting socks.

Despite his being difficult to buy for, in everything else he is a self-proclaimed simple man.  I asked him what he wanted for dinner, expecting something along the lines of a delicious steak something involving a large slab of meat.  He surprised me with a request for 5 Guys hamburgers.  I was taken back because it seems like a $5 burger is something he could have every day but it’s what he wants for his birthday dinner.  I can totally deliver on that.  His other request is chocolate cake.  Without icing.  Another easy thing to deliver on!  At least his food requests are easy!

In the almost seven years I’ve known this man, I’m still surprised (and sometimes confused!) but him, but every day makes me love him and his gorgeous baby face even more.  I love the balance we have created in our life together.  Where I am complicated, he is simple and vise versa.  Where I lack adventure, he has it in truckloads.  He is the yin to my yang or the yang to my yin or whatever Confucious say.  He is a rock of stability and responsibility but he doesn’t let those things stop him from being hilarious and fun-loving and gruff and manly and everything a girl could want in a husband. 

Happy Birthday to the best man I’ve ever known.  I hope I can make your 35th year of life the best one yet!

August 17th, 2010 by Kateastrophe

Have I ever mentioned that August is my least favorite month?  Maybe last year when I think I said it a hundred times and then I lost my job?  Yeah.  August and I?  Don’t really “mesh.”  C Jane even agrees with me (though I think she’s doing a better job at fixing her August dislikes than I am).

Arizona sort of exasterbates the problem.

Why, you ask?  Because August is hot everywhere in the US but in Phoenix?  It’s sort of like we’ve reached the seventh level of Hell.  Plus it’s monsoon season so our usual dry heat turns to humid mugginess.  This all translates to sweaty hotness.

Also, school starts in August.  In my planet, school starting equals HORRIBLE traffic.  Just driving down the parkway toward the freeway from my house, I had three giant SUVs cut me off because they almost missed their turns to get their munchkins to school.  It didn’t really start my morning off right, if you know what I mean.  On top of neighborhood traffic, I work near the two biggest private schools in town plus a bunch of other smaller ones PLUS a few more public schools and I’m sure there are 850 charter schools thrown into the mix and ohmygosh it’s like the number of cars on the road quadruples.  When the snowbirds head back down here in about a month I think I might just open a vein.

I feel badly about not liking August.  Matt’s birthday is the 24th and on top of his being the HARDEST PERSON TO BUY PRESENT FOR EVER, IN THE HISTORY OF HUMANITY (Example:  the things wants?  Cost like $15,000.  I’m not even joking.  He doesn’t ask for them, they’re just the things I know he wants - and isn’t getting) I am just sort of burnt out in August.  His presents are never a surprise.  I never know what to get him and after the pressure washer “incident” I’ll never be assuming I just bought the greatest present for him EVER again.

On top of August just being a generally sucky month, last week Matt’s sweet Aunt Lorma, who was a knitting, cooking, painting, crafting, amazingness machine, slipped on some stairs at her daughters house and hit her head.  The hospital missed the intracranial bleeding she had between her brain hemispheres and her brain started swelling, unknown to anyone.  She went to bed that night and never woke up.  It’s devastating for so many reasons and we’re missing her already.  I can’t say enough prayers that her family will be OK and comforted right now.

I was ready for August to be over on about the 5th.  I need this month to hurry up and be over already because I have big plans for September. 

August 5th, 2010 by Kateastrophe

So I have a question for you married peeps.  Did you cry at your wedding?  Or even on your wedding day?

See, I didn’t.  I got a little blurry eyed when the sealer in the temple pronounced us married for time and all eternity but I didnt’ get any real tears because I was just so HAPPY!  Now, I’m not saying people who did/do cry aren’t/weren’t happy.  I was actually shocked that I didn’t cry because I’m a HUGE bawl baby.  I cry a lot.  At lots of different things.  So my expectation was that I would cry all the live long day.  But that day I didn’t.  It was almost like I physically couldn’t!

I remember my sister-in-law bursting into tears of joy when she and her husband were married.  I don’t remember if my sister cried but I don’t think so.  I have been to several other weddings but not a ton and I’m thinking it’s about 50/50 but I’m curious as to what you think. 

Anyway my point in asking this was . . . well there was really no point other than to introduce my topic which was that my little (HUGE) brother got married this last weekend!  I cried like a baby when she came down the aisle.  My sweet brother got all teared up too.  I’m sure everyone in the room did.  It was amazing and gorgeous and everything a wedding should be.  My youngest baby brother was missing which was rough.  He’s finishing up his Army training and we didn’t think he could come but then his commanding officer told him he could come and there was much rejoicing in the land until there wasn’t anymore.  The commanding officer of the commanding officer caught wind of it and said absolutely not.  We missed him a lot all day long.

There was some . . . interesting family dynamics taking place so there was some tension.  My parents are divorced.  Have been for 23 years.  Dad remarried about 14 years ago and we love our “other” Mom, Lisa.  But they are getting divorced now and the term “messy” doesn’t really adequately describe what’s going on here.  Also, Lisa has a new boyfriend and Dad isn’t so peachy-keen on that.  My Mom remarried about the time Matt and I got married and there’s been some weirdness there.  THEN the brides parents are divorced.  Her Dad has also been remarried for a long time but it seems that might not be working out either.  Do you see where I’m going with this?  Lots of people who used to be married but aren’t and lots of people who are married but might not want to be all in the same room for a family event where we all had to behave.  HIP HIP HOORAY!  Lucky for us we only had one “incident” and it was between the least likely parties - the “other” Mom and boyfriend.  Interesting and strange all at the same time.  And it didn’t really affect anything substantial so we all came out unscathed. 

The person who didn’t come out unscathed was one of the groomsmen.  Long story short, his ex-girlfriend showed up as a guest of an invited friend and that was no bueno.  He proceeded to drink himself stupid, have a fight with his NEW girlfriend and somehow found himself on the 15th floor of the Marriott pounding on every.single.door then passing out IN THE ELEVATOR but with his head OUTSIDE OF THE ELEVATOR while the door tried endlessly to shut.  We shall just call it a party in a box.  Security wasn’t so happy and neither was my just married brother with the threat of everybody being kicked out of the hotel if he didn’t handle the “situation.” 

Never a dull moment, right folks??

My only personal complaint for the whole day was that my hairstylist personage didn’t quite understand what I meant when I said I wanted a loose, sideswept bun type thing.  I ended up with a huge mass of curls shoved to one side.  It didn’t look bad it just wasn’t what I wanted and it took FOR-EV-ER.  Also, I don’t know what in the hell she did with hairspray and a curling iron but my hair might never recover.  My pride and joy, my once silky locks have turned into course, puffy . . . something that’s not my hair.  I’m using massive amounts of conditioner (which I never ever use) in an attempt to repair some of the damage.  We’ll see how it goes. 

Small pieces of drama aside, Sean and Kristin were married and happy and gorgeous like Ken and Barbie and we’re expecting Malibu Barbie babies at some point in the future.  I’m super excited to have Kristin in our family even though she is tiny and tan.  I look like a giant pale and tragic vampire next to her but what can you do?  She’s Polish (I think?) and I’m Irish (I know) and that’s just the way it is.  At least somebody in our family is likely to have tan babies.  Mine will for sure be iridescent. 

Wait a minute . . . how did I get from wedding to babies so fast?  I must totally be Mormon.  Weird.

July 19th, 2010 by Kateastrophe

My uterus was given a clean bill of health this morning as I FINALLY got in to see el Doctor.  He said I made miscarriage look easy (and then thoughtfully noted that he knew it was not because his wife had four of them.  FOUR.  Shoot me now). 

I still did the no pants dance for 25 minutes in the ultrasound room but hey, it beats my last visit by a mile.  And bonus!  No crying!

Getting up this morning was like slowly pulling my fingernails out one at a time.  This weekend kicked my hind end.  Arizona has been freakishly hot this last week because of a random wave of humidity.  The atmosphere feels like it’s pushing down on us and it’s causing headaches of epic proportions as well as lack of sleep.  Matt and I took the opportunity Saturday to basically tell the heat to go to hell and we went to two movies.  TWO.

Despicable Me was SO great.  I cried like a small child at one point and laughed the rest of the way through.  It was everything I’ve ever wanted in a cartoon about a washed-up villain.  The Bank of Evil (formerly Lehman Brothers) was an especially awesome touch.  I give it two thumbs and two big toes up.

Inception was unbelievable.  Literally.  It was, as one of my friends put it (only not so delicately) the biggest mind-boggle of all time.  It took a lot of brain power to watch but I loved every minute of it.  Christopher Nolan has officially taken his place as my favorite director and Hans Zimmer gets a gold star for his dark, amazing score.

Sunday was a typical Sunday.  The dreaded early wake-up for church, sitting through church, home for lunch, loooooong nap then a big old dinner and fun night.  No bed until after midnight, thanks to the caffeine I’ve re-introduced since I can have it now but that’s OK because we had a great night and I needed to be alert for it.

In other news, I re-dyed my hair last week and it’s a bit bright but it looks awesome.  I went somewhere new and she did a great job but let me tell you, when your stylist says she’s going to do “just a few highlights” say NO!  Fifty extra dollars later I have seven strips of highlights.  They look good but not fifty bucks worth.  I had a huge discount coupon for this place that I had to use but I ended up spending just as much as I would have seeing my man Stephen, so back to Stephen I go, never to cheat again.

I was going to go get my hairs cut again by my genius, but even six months later (SIX!) it’s still the best haircut I’ve ever had and has held itself together beautifully so I’m leaving it.  Also, I sort of didn’t want to spend the money after the extra charge for the color and the fact that I’ve got to get a $65 hair-do for my brothers wedding in two weeks.  Holy crap!  My brother is going to be a husband in TWO WEEKS!

For my next trick I’ll tell you the story of getting a dress for the wedding without slitting my wrists.  But for now I bid you adieu.  (Bet you’re glad THIS lame post is done!)

July 14th, 2010 by Kateastrophe

Let’s move on to more fun topics.  Like the humiliation of Kate.  Whee!

There are lots and lots of over-sharing type stories to tell from my “experience.”  A new level of humiliation occurs the first time your husband attends an OB/GYN appointment with you and it only gets worse after that.  My low occurred in a dark “water closet” and I can’t imagine the actual having a baby part where, as sweet Molly put it, EVERYONE At THE HOSPITAL SEES YOUR BUTT - and other parts.  And frankly?  You just don’t care.  I haven’t had that experience but I can see why you don’t care because there were moments when I didn’t.

Then there was this morning.  I had an appointment to follow-up with my doctor and make sure my body had taken care of what it needed to take care of, if you know what I mean.  It’s been two weeks and we are crossing our fingers that I won’t need a D&C (which I don’t think I do, but you have to check.)  My appointment was at 8:00 am and I arrived promptly at 7:55.  At 8:00 three or four pregnant girls waddled in and signed in after me.  Then, one by one, the pregs all got called back.  And I sat there.  And sat there.  And watched pregnant girl after pregnant girl go in and out, in and out.  Finally, fifty-five minutes (that’s right, five minutes short of an hour) later I was called back.  I went into the ultrasound room, followed directions, took of my pants, covered myself with the paper sheet and sat down on the uncomfortable chair. Then I waited.  And waited.  Then the blessed knock at the door!  Ah, sweet relief.

Or not.

It was the nurse.  The doctor had snuck out the back door to go deliver a baby “real quick.”  Those were her words.  “Real quick.”  I could either wait for him to get back or I could reschedule.  Now in my brain I was like “wait a minute.  Real quick?  Like, oh I’m just going to run to the hospital, catch this baby and run back?  That doesn’t HAPPEN.”  My Mom pushed (PUSHED!) for three hours.  I knew babies don’t just slide on out but the nurse said 20 minutes or so and by this time it was almost 9:15.  Like crap I was going to reschedule to do this whole circus over again.  So she told me to stay in the chair and wait for the doc. 

Remember how I had no pants on?  Yeah, I had no pants on.  So I grabbed my iPod touch and my Blackberry and sat in that uncomfortable chair naked from the waist down playing games and checking Facebook.  And I waited, and waited, and waited.  On an uncomfortable chair with no pants.  Finally at 10:00 the blessed knock on the door!

Or not.  Take two.

The nurse again.  “Yeah, the doctor just called and things aren’t . . .moving along like he had hoped.  So he’s going to be a while.  The soonest we can see you is 1:30.”

By this time I had missed two hours of work, sat in the ultrasound room (which reminded me of nothing but my miscarriage and made me sad) WITH (have I mentioned) NO PANTS ON for 45 minutes and I’d had it.  I just started sobbing.  The nurse got a shocked look on her face and started apologizing, then giving me excuses, then telling me other people had to wait when they made time for my emergency appointment . . . blah blah blah.  None of that mattered at all to me and I really don’t know why sobbing was my reaction, but it was.  Pants-less sobbing in the ultrasound room.  Awesome.

So, with green and black make-up (PS, the M.A.C. color Humid is awesome - unless you cry) smeared down my face I walked out to the front area to reschedule my appointment.  I happened to get behind someone who had their entire medical history in a canvas bag and she was showing the receptionist and the nurse her charts and x-rays and reports one.at.a.time while I stood behind her crying, waiting for about seven minutes for her to finish so I could just reschedule my damned appointment already.  I finally got it rescheduled for next Monday.  They all kept apologizing and all I could think about, despite everything I could have been mad or sad or even ponderous about, was how humiliating it was to sit in a room - by myself - for 45 minutes with no pants.

As long as I know where my priorities are, I guess we’re good.  I wonder if I should wear a skirt on Monday?

July 5th, 2010 by Kateastrophe

I’ve been keeping a secret from all of you.

It was supposed to be a great surprise that I was going to share when the time was right, but as luck and the laws of nature would have it, now it’s a sad surprise, which really isn’t a surprise at all.

I was pregnant, due January 28th.   As of Wednesday, I’m officially not anymore.  There’s no real reason anyone can give me as to why, just that the baby didn’t make it and we can try again when we’re ready.  It wasn’t planned and I would say I was initially thrilled, but a life is a life and a pregnancy is a pregnancy and so I’m mourning the loss and as we all know, everyone mourns differently.  I’m actually doing really well and I’ve been able to gain a lot of perspective through this experience. I’d thought about not ever saying anything here and just leaving it as a something that was private, but for some reason that doesn’t feel right and certainly doesn’t feel like me.  Maybe there’s someone else who needs to hear what I have to say and this is the only venue where they’ll find it.  I’m not really sure.  I just know the feeling I got to share this loss with the world was very strong so here I am.  I’d started another blog to document my journey to motherhood and initially I was going to erase it, but I realized that as sad as it might be to have it there, it’s my journey and I’m going to share it with you.

It starts at the beginning and as of tonight, the end of this particular journey is there.  I hope to be able to use it to share more journeys with you but for now this is all I’ve got.  I won’t say enjoy because I’m not exactly sure that’s the purpose, but I hope you get something out of it.  I can tell you that I did and it’s documented at Growing Kateastrophe.  The tagline now seems painfully ironic . . . but I’m me and it’s me and I’m not changing it.  But I probably don’t need to explain that to any of you.

June 23rd, 2010 by Kateastrophe

My neighbor claims I’m on vacation more than any person he’s ever met.  My husband feels the same way, but I swear it’s been FOREVER and I’m dying to get out of the heat - even though it hasn’t been that bad so far this year - and go chillax.

Well, whattaya know!  In two hours I’m headed to California, specifically to my happy place in the pink bedroom at my Grandma and Grandpa’s house.  As a bonus, some of my favorite people in the whole world are going to be there with me.  I have been antsy all day to get out of here because I am SO excited to go.  Sure I’m a chubby white whale, but I do not care.  We’re going to sit by the pool and read magazines, go eat at Ruby’s on the pier, get new shoes (Mommy needs black wedges!) eat eight million calories and laugh until we cry.  Between us we’ve got four cameras, three mini video cameras and about a thousand years of inside jokes, so it’s going to be pretty hilarious.  I might even turn off my Blackberry.  WHAT?!?!

I hope to come back renewed and refreshed and ready to face the world with a new attitude.  There’s some craziness coming our way in the next several months and I’m hoping to mentally prepare myself for it all.

Hope you all have a great end of the week and weekend.  Loves and hugs and kisses and smiles.

June 16th, 2010 by Kateastrophe

When I was a bright-eyed drama freshman in high school, our teacher, the wise Mr. Brower, was explaining to us why we shouldn’t be disappointed if we were type-cast.  For those who might not know what that is, it’s when you always seem to play a similar character.  The goofy best friend, the villain or the romantic lead.  Actors are often stuck in that kind of place because of a certain look or attitude.  Think Jim Carrey as the goofy guy or Sandra Bullock in romantic comedies.

As an example, Mr. Brower used a girl named Lisa, who was a legend among the drama students at our school.  Lisa had been a lead in many of the plays and won many competitions and we all knew about her and worshipped her for her success.  She had, however, never been cast as the romantic lead in a musical.

He explained to us that Lisa came to him one day after she had been cast in Mame not as the lead, as she’d hoped, but as Vera, the older, dramatic best friend.  She was devastated because she felt she had the talent and had earned the lead.  He let her cry it out and then helped her to understand that she was going to be perfect as Vera and that sometimes, people just aren’t cut out to play certain rolls.  Lisa was one of the people that might have to accept that she may never be the romantic lead.  She would probably always be cast as the weird best friend or side kick.  But then he said something I have always thought was profound, and probably way above any high school student’s head.  He told her that because of how unique she was, there would always be a role for her, at any age, at any time.  Someone cut out to play a romantic lead doesn’t always have that luxury and they may not have parts to play for life.

I have found so many ways that the art of acting applies to real life, but this lesson has been the one that was the hardest - but most rewarding to come to understand.

I believe that we all came to this planet with a special personality and special talents.  They are ours to cultivate and make wonderful.  They enhance our lives and make us special and unique.  They are amazing.

Then.  THEN.  We see someone with a talent we don’t have and we’re jealous that we don’t have it.  It’s human nature, and it’s going to happen all the time.  I don’t see anything wrong with that part.  There are several options for what we can do next. 

We could try out that other talent.  Give it a little taste and see how it settles.  Sometimes we find OHMAGOSH it’s a talent we’ve had hidden that we didn’t know about it!  It’s amazing!  Now we’ve found something else amazing we can do and we can run with it and cultivate it and show it off and be ever more awesome.

Other times we try it out and we can DO it but we don’t necessarily enjoy it - or we totally and completely suck at it, and that’s OK.  It looks fun when someone else does it but we think “meh.”  So we walk away to look for something else, glad we tried but not wanting to go there ever again.

The third option is that we try and try and try and no matter what we do, we don’t posses the ability to do it but somehow, that’s not an answer.  We fixate on it and try and try and try.  And we get angry and frustrated and then we start to resent the people who have such an easy time doing it.  That’s when this talent becomes a big problem.

Now, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with wanting something so badly that we keep going and trying and pushing.  Many of the world’s greatest achievements were brought to pass because someone wanted something SO badly that they never ever ever gave up.

However, if our trying and trying and trying takes over our lives and becomes an obsession and starts to cause hurt and disappointment to ourselves and those around us.  Sometimes, we’re just not equipped to do something and allowing it to take over our lives will cause problems we can’t even comprehend. Basically, it might be time to “slowly step away from the talent.” 

So, let’s bring it back to Lisa.  She was SO amazingly talented and one of the finest actresses I’ve ever seen.  She went on to do amazing, wonderful things.  I continued to worship her through college as she lead the school in successes in the theatre.  However, as Mr. Brower had predicted, she wasn’t ever cast as the romantic lead.  She played hilarious, strong, vibrant women but was never the ingenue.  And it was OK because she was HERSELF and she was incredible.

There have been so many times in my life where I felt the way that Mr. Brower described Lisa feeling - like I’d earned something that was given to someone else or was overlooked because of the way I looked or expressed myself.  I so often feel judged for things that are part of who I am and really, a lot of things about myself that I’m proud of.  If I wanted to start counting, the missed opportunities, “stolen” leads, disappointments and lost friendships would fill my entire house.  I’ve had to gain a lot of perspective to be OK with some of these things.  I’m proud of my ability to sing in a middle voice placement without trying but it means I’ve always struggled with classical placement and voice.  I’m built strong with lots of muscle and am proud of my body, but it means I am not slender, I’m not graceful and I certainly will never be a size 4.  I failed every single dance proficiency test I had to take in college for my Music DANCE Theatre degree.  Every.  Single.  One.  But I never failed a single acting or singing one.  Like Lisa, I will never be cast as the romantic lead (unless it’s Fanny Brice) because of my size, my stature, my voice and my face.  But it’s OK because the roles I’ve been able to play have been awesome and fun and wonderful.  My entire life has been awesome.  More than awesome.  AMAZING.

Thanks to Mr. Brower’s wise words, a lot of hard life lessons and even more growing up, I’ve learned a lot about not adding up the disappointments and failures and keeping them in my back pocket as a way to prove how hard my life has been.  I’ve realized that if at first we don’t succeed, we try, try again.  And maybe again and again, but sometimes, some things aren’t meant to be and we need to accept our individual gifts and not go out seeking new ones which are beyond our grasp.  We need to be at peace with who and what we are.  We need to try new things and stretch ourselves and grow, but not be angry when the rubber band snaps and we find we might have failed at something we wanted so badly it hurt.  We need to look back and gather up the pieces, learn what went wrong, what went right, and move on with new perspective and the knowledge that we are what we are and what we are is unbelievably amazing.

June 7th, 2010 by Kateastrophe

I feel like my life has been on the boring setting of cruise control.  I leave for work at 7:15ish every morning.  I take a lunch.  I leave right at 5:00, come home, rush to change into workout clothes and hit the gym by 6:00 for either a two hour or 90 minute workout.  I come home, I eat something for dinner, do my photography assignment or watch TV and then go to bed.  Again and again and again.  If my day is REALLY exciting, I’ll have a 7:00 am dentist appointment or something equally as fun.

My weekends are a little more fun as there’s usually some sort of girlfriends get-together or activity planned, but sometimes there’s not and then the lameness continues.  Our anniversary was during Memorial Day Weekend and guess what we did?  A big, fat nothing.  We went out to a giant fail of a dinner (that’s for nothing Maggiano’s) and went home and watched the 24 finale.  I wish I were lying.  We basically laid around for the rest of the weekend.  Whooo boy are we exciting.

Luckily my baby sister Meagan and her husband Luke moved to Phoenix this week so we got a little bump of excitement.  They’re living less than two miles from us and will be attending our church as well.  This will be much fun as both of them are like tiny little balls of hilarious energy.  They’ve been staying at our house until their stuff arrives from New Orleans so we’ve had a blast until 9:30 when we all pass out.  Them from the time change, us because we’re lame.

As you can see, when your life is as exciting as mine, there’s not much to share with the world.  I eat, sleep, workout and work.  Blah blah blah blah.  Matt works and eats and sleeps - and now that Luke is here, plays Xbox 360.

Maybe next week something epic will happen that will liven this place up a little, but until then, I hope you didn’t fall asleep reading this.  I sort of did.