I Have A Sirius Obsession

Day: Three Hundred and Twenty Nine

Photo taken on Sunday, June 26, 2011 in my bedroom, having a Spanglish-almost-noon-moment with my dog, Sirius.

Yes, there is a dog in this picture. A pug actually. And he likes to visit every now and then and have a Beer Water (so he doesn't lose his girlish figure). He is awesome, charming, and funny. When Sirius used to come to the Surge with me he would don a bow tie since a regular tie would get tangled in his short legs.

I can see you don't believe me about Sirius. Shame really. I swear you would love him.

Let me tell you the story of how Sirius becomes a part of our family in 2004:

I come home from college a different person; for some reason Colorado has mellowed me out, filled me with patience and a creativity I haven't tapped in a long time. My imagination runs wild, sometimes the results are cringe humored other times very silly. I'm in love with the person I have become but it weirds a lot of people out when I try to reconnect with them because I rarely ever curse and I can now admit when I'm wrong. I am also working full time at the Surge and have no mode for transportation unless a parental unit doesn't need their car so I have a lot of time by myself. So I ask for a dog.

That question is met with a resounding, "NO."

I take matters into my own hands and create my very own imaginary dog. I don't tell my parents about this until one night when the three of us are on the couch watching a television program and I suddenly swat the air above the cushion next to me, startling my parents. In my best authoritative voice I say, "Down! Off the couch! You know the rules!" I then point to the floor and then point to the doorway leading out of the den. I tilt my head and give the spot on the floor "the eye" and repeat the pointing. My eyes then trail the pathway out of the room. I sit back on the couch, satisfied to have won the argument.

It is then my parents learn of Sirius.

And they all accept him. Kim thinks it's funny whenever I reprimand him. My coworkers at the Surge find him wandering into their offices at random times of the workday and never seem to mind. Sirius becomes a part of our daily routine and Maeve gets to witness this one night when Kim goes to head upstairs for sleepytime and I demand she says goodnight to my open laptop, Nico.

She refuses.

"Kim, either say goodnight to Nico or you can say goodnight to Sirius." I point to the floor by Maeve.

Kim looks down at the tiled floor. "Goodnight, Sirius."

Maeve bursts out laughing. "Wait, you would rather say goodnight to something imaginary over something you can actually see?" The three of us dissolve into laughter and Sirius barks.

Though there is one evening when dad has had enough of Sirius, who is currently perched in bewteen us in his car on top of the console. I don't know if it's Sirius' snorted breathing or me talking for the dog or the imaginary dog hair all over his nice suit pants but dad has reached his breaking point. At a red light he rolls down the window and grabs for the console, hands in a cupping motion around Sirius, and turns to throw him outside.

"NOOOOOOO!" I scream, lunging across the car to wrench Sirius from his hands. My eyes well up with tears and dad laughs.

I think it is at this point I realize I have become too attached to my make believe pet and I should really invest my time in finding a boyfriend instead.

Too bad he turns out to be imaginary too.

Peach Fuzz

Day: Three Hundred and Nineteen

Photo taken on Thursday, June 16, 2011 in the downstairs bathroom at 531am.

One day, as I am minding my own business, Pher comes up to me and places his finger on my right cheek. He then begins to sing happily as he traces little triangles between my three moles that reside there.

"Connect the dots on Katie's face! La La La! Connect the dots! La La La!"

This may have been cute if he wasn't a teenager.

There was a time when I used to be self conscious about them, especially when the biggest one started to sprout a lone dark hair every week and I even asked about getting them removed. I found out that the biggest one has a deep root and it would leave a scar anyway so I resigned myself to having moles on my face.

Back when I am a teacher at Genesis, one of the kids in the middle of a conversation with me exclaims and points, "You have a big mole!"

All conversation in the classroom literally stops. People hold their breath for my answer which is, "I most certainly do." Later as the child leaves the classroom with their aide, everyone turns to me and asks me if I'm okay, like as if someone pointing out the hideous brown splotch on my face is new to me. I've had them my entire life; I hardly even notice them until it's time to pluck and honestly, I prefer the right side of my face anyway. The only thing that bothers me is that two little ones have appeared in the triangle and I don't like that. I might get the little ones removed but then again, Pher might enjoy having new dots to connect.

Cuttlefish?

Day: Two Hundred and Ninety Four

Photo taken on Sunday, May 22, 2011 outside of Rachel's Waterside Grill in Freeport, NY at 934pm. (Picture taken from the sidewalk garbage can: Me, Moma, Grandma Z., Charlie, Daddio, Father Bill, and Steve)

We are celebrating Charlie's 31st birthday tonight (a little early but who's counting?) and before he arrives (a little late but who's watching the clock?) I check out the menu and point out what he will most likely will order. It's the most expensive dish on the menu which he has a habit of ordering. It started back when he was a kid when he went out to dinner one night with Grandma Z. and Pop-Pop. He couldn't have been in middle school yet but there he was, menu propped up in front of him, looking at it with determination in his eyes. When the waitress came to take his order he told her he would like the lobster. Pop-Pop nearly choked. "You'll have a hamburger!"

Sure enough, once Charlie gets here and orders his usual coffee, he decides on the twin lobster tails stuffed with crabmeat. Steve hears him order it but I don't catch it since I am debating over which fish I want blackened-salmon or cod- so he nudges me and lets me know Charlie is going for the lobster. I smile. Of course he is; not only is it his birthday dinner so he gets whatever he wants but my older brother also has impeccable taste when it comes to food. Now movies on the other hand...  ;-P

Mr. Q

Day: Two Hundred and Two

Photo taken on Saturday, February 19, 2011 outside of the Helen Hayes Theater on 44th Street in NYC at 334pm.

It is late August 2003 and my cell phone is ringing. It is sitting in front of me on Christine's coffee table and Christine is poised on the couch to my left looking at it wondering if I can hear it too. I let it go to voicemail and keep watching the SNL rerun on Comedy Central as I eat my lunch in between classes. Suddenly our landline starts to ring and it too sits in front of me on the coffee table but I don't budge. Christine sits forward and points at it, "Are you going to get that?"

I swing my eyes over to her and very casually state, "Colin Quinn is on." My eyes then swing back and I continue to eat quietly. Christine sits back on the couch and just accepts that her new roommate of two weeks is absolutely insane. By the end of the month she orders another cable box so I can tape Col and still lead a normal college life by going out with her at night rather than sit at home watching Tough Crowd at 1230.

I love Colin Quinn though some people may see it as an unhealthy obsession.

I seriously think my world would end if I missed an episode of Tough Crowd and since I don't watch the news, I find Colin and the gang's views on top stories to be sufficient enough to stay current. I absolutely adore him and his writing. I even enjoy when he delivers a joke terribly because it leads to him ridiculing himself which makes it even funnier. I like him so much that whenever I am home from college, I make it a mission to get into the city to catch a live recording of his show. I even wear my "Save Tough Crowd" tee shirt to the last taping even though it doesn't help save it in the end.

I am so mad at myself on January 8th because in the five months that his Broadway show Long Story Short has been out, I did not get my ass down to the theater. And I even work in the freaking city! I saw Colin Quinn more times in The Cellar when I lived 2,000 miles away then I have now that I live back home. I ought to be ashamed of myself.

But on Valentine's Day Eve, Steve hands me an envelope that says:

February 19, 2011! FRONT ROW!!!

As I open it I try to think of different musicals I may have mentioned. I know I told him about the Alan Rickman play showing in Brooklyn, maybe it's that-

I pull out a paper and all I see is my boy in one of his awkward stances and I am beside myself talking a mile a minute. "Ithoughtthiswasover?!OhmyGod,Iamsosurprised!Youtotallygotme!Wait-this ended over a month ago, how did you get tickets?"

Apparently it has been extended to March and if you are available this week and live in the vicinity...GO! Go NOW! I'll telling you, I have never been so impressed with Quinn as I am in the 75 minutes it takes him to do the history of the world. He is clever and funny, the writing has a fluidity I haven't seen in a long time from a comedian, and he's just all around GOOD!

But there is one tiny thing that gets me. As I'm watching him walk all over the stage and holding my breath as he clumsily climbs the stairs, he seems familiar. I'm following his flamboyant hand gestures which are so utterly Colin Quinn but something finally occurs to me. After he does his final bow I turn to Steve to get his take on the play. "Besides you liking it did you notice something about his gestures and the way he acted out his story?"

Steve completely hits the nail on the head. He totally spots it too. I just substituted one while the other was absent.

I think I finally understand my unhealthy obsession with Cal Lightman.

Supplies!

Day: One Hundred and Seventy Six

Photo taken on Monday, January 24, 2011 in the living room at 930pm.

Not only am I fan of Cal Lightman, I totally dig the title sequence to Lie To Me. It has a House feel to it, cool song as well as interesting lighting choices and camera angles. When recalling the opening, I see the images in hues of blue and yellow in my mind. My favorite expression is of the freckled-nosed little girl that shows surprise. When the music matches with the editing, her face should light up on a chord change but sometimes the DVR sets it off a tad.

I don't like surprises whether they're big or small, good or even fun, it just doesn't sit well with me. I like to know where I am going or what I am doing at all times. I am open to changes in plans just as long as you give me a heads up a few minutes beforehand (at the latest). That is why my bridal shower day had to be run by me first. Could you imagine? I would wake up around 7 to start preparing for a race that Saturday and Steve, in a panic, would try to convince me to go to a nice brunch. I would immediately suspect something because why would Steve be up this early on a Saturday? I would then demand to know what the meaning of this is and he would come up with a slick answer. He'd get me on the fence for the meal over going to the run until he told me that brunch would be in the city. Then I would know for sure something is amiss. There has to be some big-ass event in the city to get me to go there on the weekend so then I would figure it out. Then I would be pissed that Steve didn't tell me in the first place but then I would feel guilty for being pissed because my mom and bridesmaids did a nice thing for me.

Or I'd just ignore Steve at the beginning and leave for the race anyway.

So instead of a series of unfortunate events, they told me the date and place and I acted surprised when I walked into the lovely shower.

60 Hour TiVo

Day: One Hundred and Sixty Five

Photo taken on Thursday, January 13, 2011 in my office chair at 736am.

No medical records request has made me this giddy before. When I open the envelope and slide out the papers inside, the letterhead makes me full out laugh:

Wilson, Elser, Moskowitz, Edelman, & Dicker LLP

This is where Kim used to work before moving down to Virginia. The first time I call her office I get her voicemail and as she speeds through all the five names of her firm, I only hear the last one. When it is time for me to leave a message, I giggle into the phone, "hee hee Dicker." From then on, whenever she answers or doesn't answer her office phone, I respond the same way, "hee hee Dicker."

And then Kim makes the mistake of telling me about a pizza party they have one Friday before a holiday weekend and from then on, every Friday I ask about her pizza party that Dicker is throwing for them. Kim then explains to me every Friday that they only get pizza parties when it is before a holiday weekend and that Dicker doesn't throw them because he is retired.

Then the next Friday, I ring her right before lunchtime to ask about Dicker's Pizza Party anyway.

No Place That Far

Day: Sixty Six

Photo taken on Wednesday, October 6, 2010 at 245pm in the Surge kitchen.

I am so unbelievably OCD it isn't even funny. Actually it is. It is funny. It's so funny that it's pathetic.

One laundry day I go into our walk-in closet to fetch our quarter bag but when I look at the shelf in the spot it sits in, I find the cloth bag is missing. I inform Steve and we search around the apartment looking for the coin bag until Steve goes back into the walk-in closet. "I already looked in there," I say. He comes out holding the bag. "Really? You looked in there?" he says skeptically. I ask him where he found it and he leads me inside and points to the shelf directly above the one it normally sits on. "Well," I say in a huff, "you must have put it away then." Steve learns then that things I use tend to have a "permanant resting place" and if he moves anything in the future he would honestly try to remember where he moved it to.

I'm like this in my own office but today I learn that I have places for things outside of my office, like the hot beverage cups. When I go to make a hot chocolate this afternoon, there are no hot beverage cups left underneath the paper towel dispenser. In my head, that means there are no hot beverage cups to be found. Yeah, I'm annoyed that no one replaced them but I go and grab another batch and put it in its rightful place, under the paper towel dispenser. As I go to reach for a spoon I notice another stack of hot beverage cups that were right in front of me the whole damn time...just not under the paper towel dispenser.

Icing

Day: Thirty Eight

Photo taken on Wednesday, September 8, 2010 in the dining room area of our apartment after my training run for The Great Cow Harbor 10k (which I'm not racing in this year but want to train for it for fun anyway).

Steve is my own personal sports medic; he's truly the best. After every time I run whether it's a track workout, speed run, short easy run, or a long haul, he's there ready for me when I return to wrap and ice any part of my body that hurts. The pain that used to radiate in my left calf has now moved down to my foot instead since getting new kicks (solve one problem create another). The right foot automatically gets wrapped due to me fearing a repeat stress fracture. There is no way I want to be out of commission for three months again and especially not now since I've come so far in my training for the Diva half marathon.

The best memory I have of my stress fracture is the night before my wedding when my family plus Christine and Steve are congregating in my parents' hotel room, sharing a drink and some laughs when Kim suddenly turns to me and says, "You're not actually going to wear that cast tomorrow are you?"

I look down at the monstrosity on my right leg that I have been donning for two weeks now and shrug. It looks like a moon shoe and reaches up to almost my knee but I've already grown quite attached to it. "I'm going to wrap it in an ace bandage to start but if it hurts I'm going to have to put the cast back on at the reception."

Kim looks horrified at my answer. "You are NOT wearing that under your dress. Don't be an asshole, Kate."

At this point, Christine laughs because she finds the whole thing comical. I try to assure Kim that it won't be in any of the wedding pictures but she still shakes her head at me for being so stupid for breaking my foot two weeks before my big day. I have to agree with her, I was careless with my running mileage and upped it too fast. So after we finish up our drinks and Steve heads back to our place in Farmingdale, Christine and I make our way back to our respective rooms. The whole way there Christine keeps giggling about Kim calling me the A word. The next day whenever a good moment arises she makes sure to repeat that phrase to me and it makes me laugh. Even to this day, Christine will find the most opportune moment to say the phrase:

"Kate, don't be an asshole."

Ana Juana Learn

Day: Nineteen

Photo taken Friday, August 20, 2010 up in the Manga Loft around 1030pm.

I am so ecstatic when Annie drops by to see the apartment (and brings us delicious brownies!) that we head upstairs with some good beers to lounge on the rainbow beanbag chairs and talk into the night. I've known Annie since elementary school and the memories we created are some of the best to recall.

One of my favorites is when Annie comes with the Raabs up to Mount Snow for some skiing fun in our sophomore year of high school. On one of the last runs of the day we all head to Carinthia to race each other down a run complete with perfect rollers for maximum air. We all start at the summit at the same time and Charlie quickly takes the lead. I'm not much of a cruiser so it takes me awhile to catch up yet two people in our party have already wiped out so my chances of winning are increasing. Annie is on Charlie's heels and looks like she'll be keeping that position all the way to the end.

At the bottom of the slope past the ski lift is a huge mound of snow that has been plowed very high from the parking lot. Charlie, declaring himself the winner, skis to the top of it and stops, standing supreme over the rest of us waving his poles in victory. Annie, speeding down after him, goes to take the spot on his left as we all shout for her not to. Annie makes it to the top and stops and we all breathe a sigh of relief until she teeters and goes over the other side. Charlie tries to catch her but she's speeding down the other side into the parking lot out of his reach. I quickly pop myself out of my skis and scramble up the manmade mountain and peer over the edge, afraid of what I'll find.

I smile.

Annie is laughing her infamous "hee hee hee" with a huge grin. I'm so relieved she's okay but we all have to climb down after her and pull her out from under a vehicle anyway.

Caps for Sale

Day: Fifteen

Photo taken right before nightly showertime on Monday, August 16, 2010 in the Team Reab bathroom.

You may think I'm gross (and I really don't care if you do) but I don't wash my hair every day. I really don't find the need to especially if all I've done all day is work at The Surge and the most energy I dispel is walking up a flight of stairs.

So I wear shower caps. I'm probably the only one who wears shower caps anymore. Me and probably my grandma. I remember a time when I get to a hotel and freak because I learn that they do not have complementary shower caps and I have left mine at home. I immediately run down to my parents’ room and explain my earth shattering dilemma to my moma in hopes she brought one. She didn't. Like I said, just me and my grandma. But mom comes to my rescue a second later! She takes a plastic Waldbaum's bag and places it on my head. Instant shower cap.

Moms are truly the best.