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.