April 15th, 2007 by Kateastrophe

I laughed at just the thought of doing this and I’m giddy with excitement to see how it plays out. My dearest long lost EFY buddy Janaya did this on her blog and I just HAD TO COPY HER. HAD TO!

if my life was a movie…

if my life was a movie, what would my soundtrack be?

so, here’s how it works:
1. open your music library
2. put it on shuffle
3. press play
4. for every question, type the song that’s playing
5. when you go to a new question, press the next button
6. don’t lie and try to pretend you’re cool.

opening credits: “See I’m Smiling” from the musical “The Last Five Years.” A girl talking about smiling when her life sucks. Uhhhhhh hmmm.

waking up: “Passenger Seat” by Stephen Speaks. Hmmmm not really how I feel in the morning but, whatever! I guess if my bed is a car . . . and Matt is my passenger . . . weird.

first day at school: “House of Wolves” by My Chemical Romance. Ahhhh Timpview. SO fitting.

in love: “Rhapsody in the Rain” by Lou Christie. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH. OH MY GOSH I am laughing so hard. Here’s to NCMO’s and making out on the first date and me thinking it was love EVERY. DAMN. TIME. Holy crap.

fight song: “Whatever I Fear” by Toad the Wet Sprocket. Apparently there’s not much “fight” in my fight song. It appears to be very afraid.

breaking up: “Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” by Aerosmith. Well, um, I guess I’ll stalk you ’cause I don’t wanna miss a thing.

prom: “Hero” by the Enrique Eglesias. Honestly? I can totally see the Junior Council at my high school choosing this as our theme and having cut outs of Superman and Batman all over the commons.

life’s ok: “Amber” by 311. Apparently when life is OK it’s kind of like I got high and stared at an amber light forever. Very mellow and groovy, eh?

mental breakdown: “In Da Club” by 50 Cent. Yes, every mental breakdown can and should be fixed by dancing in Da Club and being into sex not making love. That’s VERY healthy. And so not how people get an STD. Nope.

driving: “Oops I Did it Again” by Britney Spears. If it means “oops I just flipped someone driving like an idiot off again” then YES that is true.

flashback: “Summer Girl” by Jessica Andrews. AH! So fitting for me because when I have a movie made about me, the flashback will always be me and the girls driving around, singing and laughing in the summer.

getting back together: “Samson” by Regina Spektor. YEssssir. Let’s get back together and I’ll chop off your source of strength and power! (HAIR people. Get your minds out of the gutter.)

birth of child: “Beverly Hills” by Weezer NO! I DON’T WANT TO SPAWN SPOILED BRATS!!! It’s not where I want to be! Not not not!

wedding: “Oklahoma” from the musical OKLAHOMA! Apparently it’s an Okie wedding complete with cows and hay. HAY! And we know how to spell.

final battle: “Fallen” by Sarah McLachlan. So it’s one of those painful, Gladiator-esque slow motion battles. OR, maybe it’s a deep psychological battle! Yeah! Let’s go with that.

death scene: “Song for You” by Michael Buble. If I can die with Mikey ‘alone now singing this song to ME,’ guaranteed I’m going out juuuuust fine.

funeral song: “When You Were Young” by The Killers. My funeral is apparently a semi-peppy discussion of how awesome I was when I was young.

end credits: “Silent All These Years” by Tori Amos. Yes I have lead a silent life, haven’t I? I held everything in and never talked. HAHAHAHAH. At least it’s a haunting melody with screams lost in a paper cup.

OOOOH I’m so excited to see what you guys get!! You MUST let me know when you’re done. Because once again, if you are reading this, I tag you!

April 15th, 2007 by Kateastrophe

This feels unusual . . . to do what I’m about to do and post a music video on my Blog.

I’m a fan of Linkin Park, but not a HUGE fan by any means. However, after hearing this song on the radio a few days ago I was already really looking forward to their new album. Now, after seeing this video, I’m even more excited.

Check this out, because it’s great music and the video actually has a point. And it’s a good one.

April 13th, 2007 by Kateastrophe

I got a phone call yesterday.

“Mrs. Murphy, this is Chuck. I’m the foreman on your new home. I was just calling to tell you that your lot has been released for construction, so in the next two weeks we’ll lay it out and get started!”

What Chuck heard: “Gulp”

What he might have heard if my inner monologue had a voice: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH“

See, we signed the paperwork for our new home 11 months ago. ELEVEN. So it’s just been this kind of cool thing that’s someday going to happen. Now all of a sudden they are GOING to BUILD our NEW HOUSE. And I sort of can’t breathe.

The giant list of things to do to put the old house on the market is looming. The piece of $%#@ market is looming. DECORATING THE NEW HOUSE is looming.

“Twice the space? How am I going to decorate twice the space? What on earth are we going to do with all that space? AAHHHH! Why did we do this? Why did we buy a nicer house. Oh yeah our current house is old and small and the power bill is a shotty $198 a month on average because it bleeds air. Now I remember. New house good. Old house bad. But not that bad! Someone wants to buy it, right? I mean it’s cute! I’ve poured my soul and sweat into that thing! It’s a beautiful, old, air bleeding house! With a big, dead yard. But it’s starting to come back to life! There’s roses! People like roses! And paaaalm treeees! We’ve got your paaalm treeees! And wait a minute, new house won’t be done until MAYBE the middle of September? And you can PRETTY much guarantee a month after that? Which in reality means I might not be able to cook Thanksgiving dinner in my new glorious kitchen? WHAT?!?!?!?”

Breathe, Kate, breathe.

I need to take Lamaze classes to get through this next six months. Yikes.

April 12th, 2007 by Kateastrophe

I got tagged again . . . I’m thinking I need to rename my blog “Kate’s Meme’s and a few random other things”

So without further ado I give you Three Things That . . .

Three Things That Scare Me
1. Heights
2. Scorpions
3. Screwing up my marriage

Three People Who Make Me Laugh
1. Jewels . . . always Jewels
2. All of my girlfriends, especially after a big meal and lots of caffeine.
3. Matt

Three Things I Love
1. Food. Pretty much all of it.
2. A pair of jeans that make me feel like a million bucks
3. Having amazing friends and family

Three Things I Hate
1. Boogers
2. Bad hair days
3. Stupid idiot drivers on the freeway

Three Things I Don’t Understand
1. How absolute idiots can be gazillionaires
2. People with absolutely no common sense who think they know everything
3. Why I can’t be a gazillionaire.

Three Things On My Desk
1. Silly Putty
2. A poster of some insane semi-automatic weapon (don’t ask . . . it’s a dare)
3. A huge box of Risky Business DVD’s (again, don’t ask)

Three Things I’m Doing Right Now
1. Trying to figure out the IT department’s cryptic instructions for changing my VPN key
2. Trying to figure out what the hell a VPN key is and why I have to change it in the first place
3. Guzzling water

Three Things I Want To Do Before I Die
1. Visit each continent
2. Own a home in a different country
3. Get a tan (hahahahah yeah right)

Three Things I Can Do
1. BS with the best of them
2. Sing
3. Make my eyeballs wiggle. It’s really funny.

Three Things I Can’t Do
1. Run a mile
2. Fit into my favorite clothes
3. Borrow any of my friend Stacey’s couture shoes. Stupid size 10 yacht feet. (Mine, not hers)

Three Things I Think You Should Listen To
1. The soundtrack from “The Mission”
2. Comedian Eddie Izzard (though you should probably WATCH him, he’s funnier if you can see his facial expressions)
3. Puccini

Three Things You Should Never Listen To
1. Nirvana
2. Nine Inch Nails
3. Me when I’m emotional

Three Things I’d Like To Learn
1. Another language
2. Photoshop
3. HTML and JAVA

Three Favorite Foods
1. Pasta
2. Chocolate
3. Potatoes (in any form except potato salad)

Three Shows I Watched As A Kid
1. Sesame Street
2. She-Ra
3. The McNeal-Lehrer News Hour (I was forced and oh how I hated it)

Three Things I Regret
1. Not trying our for more plays and performing groups in college
2. Not paying more attention to my little brother when he was in high school
3. The macaroni and cheese I ate for lunch yesterday. Hrrrppbbb.

Three People I’m Tagging:
1. YOU. If you’re reading this I tag YOU. I think that covers three people right?

Phew! Done! Now run along and do your own and let me know when you’re done!

April 11th, 2007 by Kateastrophe

Due to my reflective nature and events of the last year or so withing my group of “SuperFriends” I have been thinking about the kind of friend I really am.

I have been called loyal by many, but I know there are those out there who would claim I am far from loyal. And I think both are true. I have been known to be loyal almost to a fault, but at the same time, I have been known to do some things that do not scream of loyalty.

I was raised by a mother who always made me look at the other side. What had I done to help cause the conflict? What was the person who was being a jack*ss going through in their personal lives that caused them to be so incredibly lame?

I inherited this trait . . . to a fault. I’m sure my friends HATE me for it sometimes, just like I HATED my Mom for it.

Example: A hypothetical friend and her boyfriend break up, and it’s not pretty. Neither was nice during the break-up and both are hurt. Hypothetically, I am friends with both of them at this point, as I’ve been there for the entire two years they’ve been dating. While my loyalty, in the end, lies with the girlfriend, I can’t help but feel for the guy because, as a best friend, I KNOW the flaws and downfalls of my girlfriend. I know her tricks and what she does to hurt and all of those . . . girly things. And the guy? Well, he’s a guy. They’re usually idiots. I am of the firm opinion that people are GOOD and there are two sides to every story and both sides are relevant. SO, during the break-up I might lend an ear to the boyfriend. After the break-up I might still hang our with or run in to said guy. I’m just not going to ignore him. I’m not going to NOT say hi and find out what he’s up to or pretend we didn’t like each other and get along. I’m not going to give him a hug and say “WHAT’S UP BIATCH?!?!” (Just like that. Promise.)

I have rubbed many a friend wrong because of that “I love everyone” attitude. But I just can’t help it! I get attached to people! I like people! I like my friends ex-boyfriends! I like MY ex-boyfriends, and with a few exceptions, I still talk to most of them! I hold on to very little hatred or loathing. (I loathe one person that I can think of at the moment, and she really doesn’t deserve my loathing because she just happened to love the same guy I did and was doing everything she could to steal him back but it was only because she loved him . . . I just happen to still hate her for it. Hahaha.)

I guess at times though, I question myself for that behaviour. Does a true friend always side with the friend in question?

My answer, after much pondering, is no. What kind of a friend would I truly be if I always agreed with someone? If I never questioned their decisions or motives or choices? My opinion may not be correct, but it’s MINE and what kind of friend asks me not to have my own opinion? I want my opinion damn it!

I have not always felt this way. I’m a peacekeeper by nature. . . me no likey making waves, being in uncomfortable situations or confrontation. I’ll apologize for ANYTHING if I think it will make the commotion stop. Sure! My fault. Kick me! Hate me! Just stop the awkwardness!! I never used to call anyone on anything. I was always the low guy on the totem pole, the dog that got kicked when the mad owner came home. I used to constantly overhear jabs aimed at me . . . and I never said anything. Sure it hurt my feelings, but I was so afraid of losing my friends, or who I thought were my friends, that I just let it. Translation? I was a pushover nerd desperate for friends.

I am still somewhat of a pushover and peacekeeper, but my previous position and the advantage of observing the spawn of Satan throughout my life (just kidding, Dad. But you know you’re mean right? Hahah) I have learned how to stand up for myself a lot better.

I don’t think some of the people in my life really like that side of me. They were so used to me agreeing with everything and not calling them out on their bull crap, that it really took them back when I started doing it. I’m sure it was shocking to them! All of a sudden little complacent Kate became the girl who said “Yeah, no . . . I don’t really feel like it” or “You’re being dumb” or “You’re a big fat liar pants but I love you anyway, you know that right?”

I think it came as a slap in the face to some. The peacekeeper in me feels badly about that. But the new, mean me, doesn’t feel so bad. In fact she’s pretty proud of herself sometimes. And I know my opinion isn’t always right . . . I know I’m wrong just as often as the next guy. But my peacekeeper side and my ballsy side have come to terms. Sure the fight sometimes, but they kind of dig each other.

Am I wrong? To be a good friend do you have to be completely loyal?

April 10th, 2007 by Kateastrophe

My friend Anne suggested that I start writing a Kateastrophe a Week so that those of you who don’t know me, can understand more fully my blog title. So, here you go. I hope you are entertained at my expense.

And I promise to do my best to write one of these a week. I’ll probably need help from my friends and family, as I’m sure there are Kateastrophes I cannot recall. If you remember one, a few or many, email me and I’ll add them to the list!

The Kateastrophe that Bred the Name

The name Kateastrophe is fairly new, despite how obvious it was that the word should have been used in reference to me since birth. My husband Matt is actually the one that came up with it, and in a very fitting situation . . .

*que harp flashback music*

Three years ago, I was on one of my MANY trips from Utah to Phoenix to visit my super hot boyfriend (now husband), and, as was our tradition, we went to dinner every Sunday right before my plane left. (I know, shame on us for breaking the Shabot. But we’re sort of over it.)

This particular Sunday we were with our friend Rhonda at the ever yummy, ever crowded Oregano’s, a popular Italian restaurant in Tempe, enjoying Pizookie.

Oh man, I could write a whole post on the gloriousness that is Pizookie. It’s a personal sized pizza pan filled with cookie dough and half baked so the edges are slightly crusty and the middle is gloriously warm and doughy. Then they top it with vanilla bean ice cream . . . seriously. It’s the best dessert ever. But I digress . . . back to the story.

My favorite part of a Pizookie is the crusty edge. There is just something SO GOOD about it. So there are three of us, digging in to this Pizookie, ice cream melting all over it . . . and we’re all, of course, going for the edges. Specifically me. With a spoon. And I’m digging around because one of the edges is stuck. And I’m determined to get it. So I keep digging further, trying different angles, abandon ship, regroup and head back to dig a little more and all of a sudden . . . BOOM. The spoon shoots to the edge of the pan under the crust sending ice cream and Pizookie EVERYWHERE. All over me, all over Matt, all over Rhonda . . . all over the floor.

And there I was, the culprit, spoon in hand . . . dozy look on my face. *blink, blink*

Matt and Rhonda just started laughing hysterically, as did I, once I recovered from the shock. Then Matt, in one of his most clever moments, between fits of laughter and wiping ice cream off of his face says: “There she goes again. Another Kateastrophe.”

And that’s when we all really lost it. And the name was born.

April 6th, 2007 by Kateastrophe

I don’t care who you are, you HAVE GOT to read this hilarious post by Crystal over at Boobs, Injuries and Dr. Pepper because it is CLASSIC. I’m still wiping laughter tears from my eyes.

April 6th, 2007 by Kateastrophe

This is the pile I plan to use up before I allow myself to get ANY MORE NOTEBOOKS.

This is the recycling pile . . . And I’ve already half filled the recycling bin (that is the size of a giant curbside trash can)

Hopefully, I can focus enough that by the end of the day I will have a beautiful (yeah right), clean workspace.

Anyone have any organization tips? I’m DROWNING IN PAPER here folks!

*Tree-huggers, I know you don’t actually execute people. And I know I shouldn’t call you that. I promise not to do it again.

April 5th, 2007 by Kateastrophe

For the first time that I can remember in my life, I have hired someone to do something I myself can do.

I hired a painter. Sadly, this is the EASIEST thing I know how to do around the house, but we have these tall vaulted ceilings and I’m overwhelmed right now and he’s giving us a great deal and . . . and . . . right.

I am SO relieved that someone else is doing the freaking painting for me. I’m so excited to NOT be covered in paint . . . to NOT have the risk of DIPPING MY OWN PONYTAIL IN THE PAINT CAN AND NOT KNOWING IT (seriously. It happened.), to be able to SIT and WATCH my house be transformed into a prettier, “Ivoire-er” house.

But I have all these feelings of guilt.

Last night Dan, our illustrious painter guy, came over after a full day at work and continued on until 11 PM. What did I do?

- Played with Photoshop CS2 (which I am so excited to own but have NO idea how to use.)
- Watched American Idol (SANJAYA WASN’T EVEN IN THE BOTTOM 3? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME HERE?!?!)
- Watched Bones (Ryan O’Neill guest starred! How cool is that? I love Ryan!)
- Helped Matt hang the tiny blinds in our newly remodeled Master Bath
- Sat around . . . sat around some more . . .

Today I feel like a lazy snob. I realize I’m paying this guy to paint, but I feel like I should have grabbed a paint roller and dove in! I should have done something productive to help it move along!

Ok I did do the blinds and then I did clean the kitchen . . . but STILL! I don’t think I’ll ever be completely comfortable having someone else do my work for me. Maybe it’s because I have spent so long working for rich people and doing all their stupid crap. . . maybe it’s because my Mama “done raised me different” or — well who knows what it is. I just feel guilty.

Do any of you share this with me? Do you ever pay someone to do something for you and then feel incredibly guilty about it? Does it ever get better?

April 4th, 2007 by Kateastrophe

Growing inside of you is the child you never planned on, but that, when you took that test and discovered was on the way, you planned for.

I don’t know how exactly it went, but you called him or met him somewhere, and with tears in your eyes and fear in your heart you told him the news, then told him you thought the two of you should give it a try, for the sake of the life growing inside of you.

And then he said no, that he didn’t want the baby, didn’t want you, and then he left forever.

Oh how you must have struggled and wept, the heart wrenching weeping that only a scared mother-to-be could ever know. You had to decide what to do. Did you give up your place in school to try to raise the baby? Raise the baby and stay in school and try to find a way to pay for someone else to care for your child? Give the baby up for adoption? Oh the questions I’m sure ran through your head, and there was no right answer. Only more questions.

How would you tell your parents? What would you tell your parents? They had given you every luxury a girl could wish for, and now, you had to tell them you had disappointed them, that you had made the one mistake you were taught from the time you were a small child not to make.

The struggles must have been overwhelming.

Somehow, during your nine months of pondering and praying, you made the life-changing decision . . . the decision they don’t know how to thank you for.

They tried and tried to give each other a baby. They tried for five years. They suffered through the hormones and the invasive procedures . . . the joy of finding out their attempts had been successful, and the pain of having their hopes dashed less than two months later as the bleeding began again. Three tries. Who knows how many thousands of dollars, how many tears and how many prayers wasted. Or were they?

A month ago you found them. Out of how many thousands of couples, no one will ever know. You were drawn to them. Who knows what it was that caused you to say “These two. I want to know more about these two.” Yet you did. You asked questions, you spoke to them, you got to know them better . . . and this Monday, in a physically empty room filled with tension, anticipation and anxiety, you said “I choose you.”

In the next few weeks, you will go through the pain of childbirth, and you will bring your son into the world as millions of mothers have, but your experience will be different. You will hold that beautiful baby, count his precious toes and fingers, feel the soft spot on his head, sing to him softly and tell him how much you love him . . . but you will do all of this just once. And then, you will kiss him one last time, and you will give him away.

I cannot imagine the pain that will rip through your heart in that moment. What I can do, is tell you of the eternal joy that will be felt a few rooms down as a couple who could not give each other what they truly wanted, receive your gift — their son Hayden.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for choosing them. For giving my dear friends the joy of being parents. For being brave enough to give your son that wonderful couple to call his Mom and Dad. Thank you, thank you, thank you.