No one can forget the iconic Jerry Maguire quotes, “You had me at hello” and “You complete me.” Barf. Try as I might, I can’t even forget them. These quotes rank up there in Cheesyville with, “You are the wind beneath my wings” and “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” Double bag barf please.
It’s not that I don’t like Jerry Maguire, Beaches, or Forrest Gump. I thoroughly enjoyed watching each movie. I laughed, I cried, blah-blah-blah. In my humble opinion, all can be considered noteworthy cinema. It’s just that I’m attracted to a different sort of quote, the type of quote that someone would actually say in real life - NOT the nausea-inducing popular ones quoted above.
For instance, my favorite quote from Jerry Maguire comes from the scene where Jerry is confiding to Rod (his friend/star football player) that dating Dorothy (who happens to be a single mom) is complicated. Please note that this conversation takes place after Jerry has already played the piano with Dorothy.
Rod: “I feel for you, man. But a real man wouldn’t shoplift the pootie from a single mom.”
Jerry: “I didn’t shoplift the pootie.”
[Rod gives Jerry a long, knowing look.]
Jerry: “All right. I shoplifted the pootie.”
I have always loved this quote, even before I joined the ranks of single motherhood. First of all, the word “pootie” is just plain funny, and as I have shared in earlier blog entries, my humor is a touch elementary. The second reason I adore this quote is because I think it rings true in terms of the common perception of dating single parents. As a single mother who doubles as a dating woman, I find it can be difficult for men to balance the idea that I can be a regular 30 year old woman and also be a good mother. It’s similar to the madonna/whore complex in the belief that a woman can EITHER be a pure-wife-and-doting-mother-type OR a fun-flirty-sexual-girlfriend-type. Personally, I’d like to believe I can multitask.
To illustrate this point, let’s look back at a conversation I had several months ago. At the time, I had been seeing this guy for a couple of months. Let’s call him Marshall. (Dear goodness above, I do hope he’s not reading this.) I considered Marshall to be a catch – he was attractive, intelligent, lived on his own, had a decent job, and most importantly, he appeared to have a genuinely kind soul. In my mind (obviously not his), I was wondering if it was going to cross over to the next level. You all know what I mean. We were teetering in that gray, ambiguous are-we or aren’t-we phase. So, we had “the talk.” Again, you know what I mean. “The talk” is that extremely awkward discussion that involves exclusivity that no one ever really wants to have. In fact, I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a plastic spoon than have “the talk,” but sometimes, it just can’t be avoided.
Anyway, Marshall led the conversation by asking what I wanted. I answered his question and then asked him what he wanted. What I found interesting about his response is that the very first thing out of his mouth was, “Kat, I’ve never dated a single mother before. I feel like I need to be more responsible with you. I think I should take things slowly with you.” Notice his response had very little to do with me as a person, but a lot to do with my status as a parent.
Like I said before, I truly believe Marshall is a decent guy, so I don’t think it was a complete cop-out. I suspect part of him wanted to continue shopping while keeping me in the cart, but I also believe part of him was more reserved because I do have a child. Like it or not, dating a single parent is a big deal, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad deal.
So, just what is it about dating a single mom that is sooooo piss in your pants scary? We don’t turn into gremlins if you feed us after midnight. We don’t vomit pea soup. We don’t boil rabbits. We’re just ordinary people, who happen to have reproduced in the past.
Last summer, my dear gal pal, Carrie, and I were having this very debate. Carrie is married, but she agreed to probe her husband’s single friends regarding their thoughts on dating single moms. I wasn’t there, but this is what she said happened: First, she posed the question, “What do you think about dating a single mom?” Pregnant pause (no pun intended). Then, one guy peeped up with, “at least you know she puts out.” Several snickers later, they all agreed that dating a single mom really isn’t a catastrophic event. Halleluiah, halleluiah, ha-lle-lu-iah!
Moving forward, I would like people to view dating single parents in a positive light. For this reason, I have compiled a list of the advantages of dating a single mother.
The Top 10 Reasons You Should Drop Everything You’re Doing Right Now and Rush Into the Arms of a Single Mom:
1. As Carrie’s friends mentioned, we definitely aren’t virgins. Now, I’m not saying anyone should or shouldn’t put out before marriage, I’m just saying I would find it a little creepy to date a 30 year old virgin. Our status as parents lets you know we’re not.
2. Single moms have the best cereal selection. Single women have Special K. Single moms have Peanut Butter Cap’N Crunch. Let your stomach decide.
3. Single moms don’t have the time or energy to waste playing games. If we like you, you’ll know it; if we don’t, you’ll know that, too. I see our direct approach as positive, but if you’re into the “mysterious” type, we may not be your perfect match. (By the way, “mysterious” really translates into, “I will play games with you. You will have to chase me. Your friends and my friends will joke about how whipped you are behind your back.”)
4. We don’t calculate your sperm count on the second date. Sure, our clocks may be ticking, but we’re wearing ear muffs. Down the road, if we find ourselves in a happy, healthy, and committed relationship, we may opt to have more children, but we’re not desperate to make it happen today.
5. We’re typically nurturing and our bathrooms are fully stocked with character band-aids. Regardless of age, putting Sponge Bob on a boo-boo always makes it better.
6. Our time is mucho valuable. Like more valuable than a muzzle on Kanye. If we decide to spend time with you, you should consider it a ginormous compliment. It can be quite an undertaking for us to clear our schedule and arrange for a sitter. As such, when we’re with you, we’re REALLY WITH YOU. We’re not scoping the scene or checking our texts hoping for someone/something better. (Plus, we’re just too fertile to slut around.)
7. Raising a child on your own is hard. I’m not whining here, I’m just stating a fact. Single motherhood has a way of beating the selfishness right out of you. As such, we’re generally better, kinder people as a result. Sometimes we even commit random acts of kindness.
8. We secretly like cartoons and video games, too. No judgment here.
9. Just because we can populate the earth doesn’t mean we want to. Accordingly, we’re generally pretty responsible when it comes to birth control because we truly understand the ramifications (both good and bad) of bringing a child into this world. Chances are, you won’t hear us say, “Was I supposed to take the blue pill or the white pill today?”
10. Kids are cool. They aren’t baggage, but they definitely aren’t BOGO either. Simply put, children are special, fun, sweet little creatures. I think the following quote from Jerry Maguire between Jerry and Ray (Dorothy’s son) says it all:
Ray: “D’you know that the human head weights 8 pounds?”
Jerry: “Did you know that Troy Aikman, in only six years, has passed for 16,303 yards?”
Ray: “D’you know that bees and dogs can smell fear?”
Jerry: “Did you know that the career record for hits is 4,256 by Pete Rose who is not in the Hall of Fame?”
Ray: “D’you know that my next door neighbor has three rabbits?”
Jerry: “I… I can’t compete with that.”
So, the next time you meet a single mom, don't be scared. We won't bite (unless you're into that sort of thing).
Meow, Kat
P.S. Don’t shoplift the pootie from a single mom. It’s just not nice.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Tune In Tokyo
Have you seen Facebook status updates similar to these over the last week?
“Nude”
“Green baby!”
“Black lace”
“Pink (duh)”
“Tan”
“Leopard”
“Smokin' hot black push up with a cute tiny bow in the middle sistas!”
If you’re a guy, you probably scratched your head for a second and pondered the meaning of these bizarre posts. If you’re a girl, you probably received an e-mail similar to the one I received yesterday:
“Some fun is going on... just write the color of the bra you are wearing in your status. Just the color, nothing else. And send this on to ONLY girls no men... It will be neat to see if this will spread the wings of breast cancer awareness. It will be fun to see how long it takes before the men will wonder why all the girls have a color in their status... Haha! Don't tell until we have this going everywhere… and forward to all your girls.”
People, this is serious business. We’re talking about boobs here. The least we can do is share the color of our over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder, right? Obviously, I sprinted to the status update bar on my Facebook page and typed in, “No color – commando.” I mean, it was for a good cause… and truth be told, I might just be a little bit of an exhibitionist.
Either way, do not let my eagerness to share TMI on a public social networking site fool you. My womanly intuition told me that there was probably a slightly perverted guy behind this hoax. Gentlemen, take notice. This guy is a genius. A pervert, but still a genius.
Deep down inside, I like to think that I’m a smart girl. I know that posting the details of my brassiere (or the lack of one) will do absolutely nothing to raise breast cancer awareness.
This got me thinking. What can I do to raise breast cancer awareness? Well, as I’m the author of this blog and I haven’t posted in some time (my apologies), I can share some information on breast cancer. I see it as a win-win situation. I get to feel good about sharing information about my bra on Facebook and for sharing breast cancer facts on my blog.
Did you know?
• Breast cancer incidence in women in the United States is 1 in 8 (about 13%).
• About 40,170 women in the U.S. were expected to die in 2009 from breast cancer, although death rates have been decreasing since 1990. These decreases are thought to be the result of treatment advances, earlier detection through screening, and increased awareness.
• As of 2008, there are about 2.5 million women in the U.S. who have survived breast cancer. Yay! I will survive/ As long as I know how to love/ I know I’ll stay alive. Sorry, I was born in the 70s… I know, I know, it’s still not a valid excuse. Gloria Gaynor is never acceptable.
So, what can we do to keep the breasts in our lives healthy and plentiful? The solution is simple. Ladies, don’t neglect to perform your monthly self-check. If you encounter any of the symptoms below, RUN DON’T WALK to your doctor’s office. And fellas, make sure the special ladies in your life get checked. If you’re creative, you can even make a game out of it…
Keep an eye out (or a hand) for:
• swelling of all or part of the breast
• skin irritation or dimpling
• breast pain
• nipple pain or the nipple turning inward
• redness, scaliness, or thickening of the nipple or breast skin
• a nipple discharge other than breast milk
• a lump in the underarm area
Remember, breasts are best! BUT only if they are healthy. Love your boobies.
Meow, Kat
P.S. All statistics were lifted from breastcancer.org.
P.P.S. Still want to do more? You can send a donation to: Susan G. Komen for the Cure, Attn: Donor Services, PO Box 650309, Dallas, TX 75265-03
“Nude”
“Green baby!”
“Black lace”
“Pink (duh)”
“Tan”
“Leopard”
“Smokin' hot black push up with a cute tiny bow in the middle sistas!”
If you’re a guy, you probably scratched your head for a second and pondered the meaning of these bizarre posts. If you’re a girl, you probably received an e-mail similar to the one I received yesterday:
“Some fun is going on... just write the color of the bra you are wearing in your status. Just the color, nothing else. And send this on to ONLY girls no men... It will be neat to see if this will spread the wings of breast cancer awareness. It will be fun to see how long it takes before the men will wonder why all the girls have a color in their status... Haha! Don't tell until we have this going everywhere… and forward to all your girls.”
People, this is serious business. We’re talking about boobs here. The least we can do is share the color of our over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder, right? Obviously, I sprinted to the status update bar on my Facebook page and typed in, “No color – commando.” I mean, it was for a good cause… and truth be told, I might just be a little bit of an exhibitionist.
Either way, do not let my eagerness to share TMI on a public social networking site fool you. My womanly intuition told me that there was probably a slightly perverted guy behind this hoax. Gentlemen, take notice. This guy is a genius. A pervert, but still a genius.
Deep down inside, I like to think that I’m a smart girl. I know that posting the details of my brassiere (or the lack of one) will do absolutely nothing to raise breast cancer awareness.
This got me thinking. What can I do to raise breast cancer awareness? Well, as I’m the author of this blog and I haven’t posted in some time (my apologies), I can share some information on breast cancer. I see it as a win-win situation. I get to feel good about sharing information about my bra on Facebook and for sharing breast cancer facts on my blog.
Did you know?
• Breast cancer incidence in women in the United States is 1 in 8 (about 13%).
• About 40,170 women in the U.S. were expected to die in 2009 from breast cancer, although death rates have been decreasing since 1990. These decreases are thought to be the result of treatment advances, earlier detection through screening, and increased awareness.
• As of 2008, there are about 2.5 million women in the U.S. who have survived breast cancer. Yay! I will survive/ As long as I know how to love/ I know I’ll stay alive. Sorry, I was born in the 70s… I know, I know, it’s still not a valid excuse. Gloria Gaynor is never acceptable.
So, what can we do to keep the breasts in our lives healthy and plentiful? The solution is simple. Ladies, don’t neglect to perform your monthly self-check. If you encounter any of the symptoms below, RUN DON’T WALK to your doctor’s office. And fellas, make sure the special ladies in your life get checked. If you’re creative, you can even make a game out of it…
Keep an eye out (or a hand) for:
• swelling of all or part of the breast
• skin irritation or dimpling
• breast pain
• nipple pain or the nipple turning inward
• redness, scaliness, or thickening of the nipple or breast skin
• a nipple discharge other than breast milk
• a lump in the underarm area
Remember, breasts are best! BUT only if they are healthy. Love your boobies.
Meow, Kat
P.S. All statistics were lifted from breastcancer.org.
P.P.S. Still want to do more? You can send a donation to: Susan G. Komen for the Cure, Attn: Donor Services, PO Box 650309, Dallas, TX 75265-03
Friday, December 18, 2009
I'm Down with Dorky
Howdy all. I’m back and ready to delight you with more stories of my dorkdome. That’s right. You heard me. I’m a dork and I’m proud of it. I don't run from my inner dork. I embrace it. Hell, sometimes I even bear hug it.
If I had to take a stab in the dark, I would suspect many of you are dorks as well. Probably closet dorks, but dorks none the less. Closet nerds, closet geeks, closet freaks, closet weirdoes. Listen, I’m all about self expression, so you can call yourself whatever you want, but deep down inside your nerdy little heart, you know who you are. You should also know there really is no reason to be ashamed anymore.
Think about it. There are plenty of successful, happy, well-adjusted dorky role models out there. For instance, our President (a.k.a. The-most-powerful-man-in-the-world) is a big dork. Then there’s the founder of Microsoft, Mr. Bill Gates. I don’t know about you, but I’d love to borrow his AmEx for the day. Also, we don’t want to forget about our sister population, so let’s put our hands together in a big round of applause for Natalie Portman. Famous actress, stunningly beautiful, also Harvard educated, I might add. And did I mention that she shot to stardom by playing Queen Amidala in Star Wars? When Hayden Panettiere is not acting, she is frequenting video game launch parties. Not too shabby. Even Colin Greenwood from Radiohead graduated from Cambridge and still lives in Oxford to this day. Don’t leave me high/don’t leave me dry… Sorry, got a little carried away there for a nanosecond.
Anyway, the moral of the story is that dorky is in. Gone are the days of Steve Urkel and Screech. Gone, I tell you, gone. Dork is now spelled H-O-T.
So, unite with me, my nerdy brethren! I call upon you to say it loud and say it proud! We are dorks and we will be counted! We expect the same rights and privileges as everyone else. (This includes a cute date on the weekend.)
Not ready to declare your dorkdome yet? How about this? I’ll go first. Below, I have shared a “Are You a Hero or Are You a Zero?” checklist with ten nerdy actions. If you are culpable of six or more items, it’s likely that your dorky tendencies may actually be a lifestyle. But it is all right. You’re in good company. I’m guilty of every item on this list and I’m still confident enough to look myself in the mirror each day. In fact, I’d say that I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me! So go ahead, print this out and pull out the writing utensil of your choice (chances are you’ve probably already got a few nearby in your pocket protector) and check off the items that resonate with you. Seriously, go ahead and do it. I mean, really, you’re reading my blog right now. What else do you have to do?
Are You a Hero or Are You a Zero?
_____ I have read the entire Harry Potter series. (Add an extra point if you lost sleep or wept when you learned of Dumbledore’s fate.)
_____ When my parents sent me to my room as a child, I secretly didn’t mind because I could read books, play video games, conduct science experiments, and/or finish my homework.
_____ If my house were to catch fire, I would evacuate only after securing the safety of my computer.
_____ I know what E=mc2 means.
_____ I enjoy learning. Maybe that’s an understatement. I love to learn. I dig school, training, museums, documentaries, anything with new information. (You score an extra point if you have letters before or after your name.)
_____ I have seventh grade humor. Not sure on this one? Does the word, “uvula” make you laugh? How about the planet, “Uranus?” If so, put a big dorky check in the box.
_____ I lack game. Athletic game, verbal game, dating game, and the list goes on…
_____ I think there is NOTHING more attractive than watching someone read a newspaper. Brains are uber sexy. Heads are more than hat racks.
_____ I am no slave to fashion. I think the best fashion accessory is a good pair of reading glasses and I have been known to wear black shoes with a brown belt. (Add a bonus point if you’ve had your current hair style longer than your current job.)
_____ When I watch The Big Bang Theory, I identify with Leonard and Sheldon. Not everyone can be a Penny.
It’s time to tally. How did you do?
Six or more? Fan-freaking-tastic! That secures your spot as a winner in my book!
Five or less? I’m sorry to inform you that you are a wiener. A certified wiener. And yes, the word “wiener” does makes me laugh…
Meow, Kat
P.S. The “Are You a Hero or Are You a Zero?” checklist also doubles as reasons #34-43 why I am single.
If I had to take a stab in the dark, I would suspect many of you are dorks as well. Probably closet dorks, but dorks none the less. Closet nerds, closet geeks, closet freaks, closet weirdoes. Listen, I’m all about self expression, so you can call yourself whatever you want, but deep down inside your nerdy little heart, you know who you are. You should also know there really is no reason to be ashamed anymore.
Think about it. There are plenty of successful, happy, well-adjusted dorky role models out there. For instance, our President (a.k.a. The-most-powerful-man-in-the-world) is a big dork. Then there’s the founder of Microsoft, Mr. Bill Gates. I don’t know about you, but I’d love to borrow his AmEx for the day. Also, we don’t want to forget about our sister population, so let’s put our hands together in a big round of applause for Natalie Portman. Famous actress, stunningly beautiful, also Harvard educated, I might add. And did I mention that she shot to stardom by playing Queen Amidala in Star Wars? When Hayden Panettiere is not acting, she is frequenting video game launch parties. Not too shabby. Even Colin Greenwood from Radiohead graduated from Cambridge and still lives in Oxford to this day. Don’t leave me high/don’t leave me dry… Sorry, got a little carried away there for a nanosecond.
Anyway, the moral of the story is that dorky is in. Gone are the days of Steve Urkel and Screech. Gone, I tell you, gone. Dork is now spelled H-O-T.
So, unite with me, my nerdy brethren! I call upon you to say it loud and say it proud! We are dorks and we will be counted! We expect the same rights and privileges as everyone else. (This includes a cute date on the weekend.)
Not ready to declare your dorkdome yet? How about this? I’ll go first. Below, I have shared a “Are You a Hero or Are You a Zero?” checklist with ten nerdy actions. If you are culpable of six or more items, it’s likely that your dorky tendencies may actually be a lifestyle. But it is all right. You’re in good company. I’m guilty of every item on this list and I’m still confident enough to look myself in the mirror each day. In fact, I’d say that I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me! So go ahead, print this out and pull out the writing utensil of your choice (chances are you’ve probably already got a few nearby in your pocket protector) and check off the items that resonate with you. Seriously, go ahead and do it. I mean, really, you’re reading my blog right now. What else do you have to do?
Are You a Hero or Are You a Zero?
_____ I have read the entire Harry Potter series. (Add an extra point if you lost sleep or wept when you learned of Dumbledore’s fate.)
_____ When my parents sent me to my room as a child, I secretly didn’t mind because I could read books, play video games, conduct science experiments, and/or finish my homework.
_____ If my house were to catch fire, I would evacuate only after securing the safety of my computer.
_____ I know what E=mc2 means.
_____ I enjoy learning. Maybe that’s an understatement. I love to learn. I dig school, training, museums, documentaries, anything with new information. (You score an extra point if you have letters before or after your name.)
_____ I have seventh grade humor. Not sure on this one? Does the word, “uvula” make you laugh? How about the planet, “Uranus?” If so, put a big dorky check in the box.
_____ I lack game. Athletic game, verbal game, dating game, and the list goes on…
_____ I think there is NOTHING more attractive than watching someone read a newspaper. Brains are uber sexy. Heads are more than hat racks.
_____ I am no slave to fashion. I think the best fashion accessory is a good pair of reading glasses and I have been known to wear black shoes with a brown belt. (Add a bonus point if you’ve had your current hair style longer than your current job.)
_____ When I watch The Big Bang Theory, I identify with Leonard and Sheldon. Not everyone can be a Penny.
It’s time to tally. How did you do?
Six or more? Fan-freaking-tastic! That secures your spot as a winner in my book!
Five or less? I’m sorry to inform you that you are a wiener. A certified wiener. And yes, the word “wiener” does makes me laugh…
Meow, Kat
P.S. The “Are You a Hero or Are You a Zero?” checklist also doubles as reasons #34-43 why I am single.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Why I Am Single - Reason #114
Hello Blogosphere. Single Kat here. Today I am taking a big step. I am kicking non-blogger Katherine to the curb and embracing the new and improved blogger Kat. It’s kinda’ like I’m losing my blog virginity. If you’re reading this, consider yourself my first. As my first, you now have the solemn responsibility to do right by me. By all means, be gentle and please read to the end.
So, how was this blog born? Peer pressure was a factor. (All the cool kids were doing it.) Plus, there was a visit to a psychic a few years back that foretold of my blogging potential. (More on that later.) Mostly, there was an incident that occurred at Edventure, which coincidentally is also the 114th reason I am still single at the spring chicken age of 30.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with the metropolis of Columbia, we have a children’s museum called Edventure. (Catchy title, right? Kudos to their Marketing team.) For those of you who aren’t familiar with me, I’m the single mom of a four year old superhero. As you all know, superheroes have ample energy to burn, so I spend a fair amount of time (okay, my whole life) at the park, the zoo, birthday parties (the dry variety), and the ever popular Edventure. Hmmm… maybe my choice of weekend venue is the 115th reason I’m still single? Anyway, I digress. Back to the birth of this blog tale…
Last Sunday afternoon, I was at Edventure with Superman. We were accompanied by my friend and her son. We’ll call them Emma and Batman. So, Emma is married and Batman is normal. As such, they were quietly ice fishing in the “Let It Snow” exhibit. Superman and I were busy trying to make a break for the North Pole when out of the corner of our eyes, we simultaneously spot a shiny, flashy, perfect snowmobile. Now this isn’t just any snowmobile, it is tricked out with sound effects fit for a kid king and some seriously sweet swivel action. This snowmobile also happens to be nestled into a winter wonderland scene complete with snow of course and surrounded by big fake pine trees. Naturally, the only rational course of action is to sprint over to the snowmobile, which we did in short measure. (Marion Jones had nothing on us, even with her performance “enhancers.”) On a side note, if you’re reading this and we knocked over your toddler or small child in our reckless abandon, I do apologize.
While we were booking it to the snowmobile, I suddenly realize that this looks just like the getaway forest scene from Return of the Jedi. At that moment, I AM Princess Leia and Superman IS Luke Skywalker. I’m sporting double hair buns and Superman is packing a light saber. We are siblings and one day, we will rule this galaxy far, far away. For now, we have to contend with those damn pesky storm troopers. We are fortunate to have the Ewoks at our disposal, but as much as the little guys want to help, they look like overgrown teddy bears, so Luke and I are clearly going to have to rely on our own cunning bravado. There’s no time for hesitation, so we hop on board and I immediately take control of navigation as my arms are longer and I can best manipulate the steering wheel. Luke instinctively takes over our defense and begins to shoot the storm troopers. At this point, the snowmobile is bouncing back and forth, the sound effects are in full swing, and Luke and I are hanging on for dear life.
After a few close calls with pretend enemy fire and low hanging branches, I become so overcome with excitement that I yell/shout/scream/bellow, “Let’s get Darth Vader!” To make matters worse, I couple my dark side screech with a Jersey Shore style fist bump. People began to turn and stare at that point. It was uncomfortable. Way uncomfortable. Worse than bikini line razor burn uncomfortable.
In my defense, I knew it was ultra dorky the second I did it, but I just couldn’t help myself. What can I say? It was a weak moment. With slumped shoulders and a sheepish heart, I slowly turned and made eye contact with Emma and mumbled, “This is why I’m still single, isn’t it?” She grinned and responded, “You think?”
The ensuing conversation included snickering and a plan for a new blog. The end result? I’m now a blogger. Emma is the editor. If something is wrong with the blog, it’s obviously her fault.
So, we’ve made it to the conclusion of this introductory blog. They say the first time is always the most awkward, so don’t dump me now. Stay tuned for more groovy verbiage… (The fact that I choose to use the terminology “groovy” is reason #79 why I’m still single.)
Meow, Kat
P.S. Thanks for being gentle.
So, how was this blog born? Peer pressure was a factor. (All the cool kids were doing it.) Plus, there was a visit to a psychic a few years back that foretold of my blogging potential. (More on that later.) Mostly, there was an incident that occurred at Edventure, which coincidentally is also the 114th reason I am still single at the spring chicken age of 30.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with the metropolis of Columbia, we have a children’s museum called Edventure. (Catchy title, right? Kudos to their Marketing team.) For those of you who aren’t familiar with me, I’m the single mom of a four year old superhero. As you all know, superheroes have ample energy to burn, so I spend a fair amount of time (okay, my whole life) at the park, the zoo, birthday parties (the dry variety), and the ever popular Edventure. Hmmm… maybe my choice of weekend venue is the 115th reason I’m still single? Anyway, I digress. Back to the birth of this blog tale…
Last Sunday afternoon, I was at Edventure with Superman. We were accompanied by my friend and her son. We’ll call them Emma and Batman. So, Emma is married and Batman is normal. As such, they were quietly ice fishing in the “Let It Snow” exhibit. Superman and I were busy trying to make a break for the North Pole when out of the corner of our eyes, we simultaneously spot a shiny, flashy, perfect snowmobile. Now this isn’t just any snowmobile, it is tricked out with sound effects fit for a kid king and some seriously sweet swivel action. This snowmobile also happens to be nestled into a winter wonderland scene complete with snow of course and surrounded by big fake pine trees. Naturally, the only rational course of action is to sprint over to the snowmobile, which we did in short measure. (Marion Jones had nothing on us, even with her performance “enhancers.”) On a side note, if you’re reading this and we knocked over your toddler or small child in our reckless abandon, I do apologize.
While we were booking it to the snowmobile, I suddenly realize that this looks just like the getaway forest scene from Return of the Jedi. At that moment, I AM Princess Leia and Superman IS Luke Skywalker. I’m sporting double hair buns and Superman is packing a light saber. We are siblings and one day, we will rule this galaxy far, far away. For now, we have to contend with those damn pesky storm troopers. We are fortunate to have the Ewoks at our disposal, but as much as the little guys want to help, they look like overgrown teddy bears, so Luke and I are clearly going to have to rely on our own cunning bravado. There’s no time for hesitation, so we hop on board and I immediately take control of navigation as my arms are longer and I can best manipulate the steering wheel. Luke instinctively takes over our defense and begins to shoot the storm troopers. At this point, the snowmobile is bouncing back and forth, the sound effects are in full swing, and Luke and I are hanging on for dear life.
After a few close calls with pretend enemy fire and low hanging branches, I become so overcome with excitement that I yell/shout/scream/bellow, “Let’s get Darth Vader!” To make matters worse, I couple my dark side screech with a Jersey Shore style fist bump. People began to turn and stare at that point. It was uncomfortable. Way uncomfortable. Worse than bikini line razor burn uncomfortable.
In my defense, I knew it was ultra dorky the second I did it, but I just couldn’t help myself. What can I say? It was a weak moment. With slumped shoulders and a sheepish heart, I slowly turned and made eye contact with Emma and mumbled, “This is why I’m still single, isn’t it?” She grinned and responded, “You think?”
The ensuing conversation included snickering and a plan for a new blog. The end result? I’m now a blogger. Emma is the editor. If something is wrong with the blog, it’s obviously her fault.
So, we’ve made it to the conclusion of this introductory blog. They say the first time is always the most awkward, so don’t dump me now. Stay tuned for more groovy verbiage… (The fact that I choose to use the terminology “groovy” is reason #79 why I’m still single.)
Meow, Kat
P.S. Thanks for being gentle.
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