The Sugar High

I might be in the process of overdosing on Sour Patch children.

The back office is full of sugar. Sugar is in every corner. I feel like a puppy in a cage stuck behind the front desk with bundles of sugar-induced energy, wanting to run around in circles or salsa dance deliberately in front of the fish-tank glass walls, but I am trapped behind the front desk with only twelve check-ins left and three hours ahead of me.

The football players look at me cross-eyed when I ask for their identification--they assume I should know who they are, but I truly don't. This makes me laugh. Quiet little laughs. Behind their backs, of course, when they can't hear me.

I try to take a pencap off of a pen for a guest to sign their registration card, and for some reason, I fail miserably in removing the cap. "Well that's on there tight!" I exclaim. I give the guest another pen while my German supervisor removes the pencap with one great tug. "It's all the potatoes!" she smiles at me. The guests laugh.

I dash to the back for another piece of candy, because candy calls to me at the best of times, and when it is taunting me from a mere 100 feet away, I almost certainly will succumb to its peer pressure and sweet siren calls.

"Eat me.....! Eat me.....!" the candy cheers.

I eat the candy! In one swoop! Gone! FFxzzzz popppp whooooooosh.

Those who know me know I have crazy little silly sessions that often last for 10 minutes at a time, giggle fits and swooshy limbs and lilts of nonsensical laughter towards jokes that only make sense to me.

Some people would say these are special times. Yes.

Women walk around in the lobby in clothing they should seriously re-think.

Some women should not wear mini-skirts. There. I said it.

I feel the sour patch kids wreaking havoc. They are playing hopscotch and jumping rope and want to make fools of themselves in a kickball game. They are listening to smooth jazz playing and are getting bored. They are starting to irritate me.

They are ready to go to the bar. My stomach is getting upset. But nooooOOOOoooooo, don't let them win!

Onwards! Onwards to the bar with the sour patch kids in mini skirts and the pups in cages about to be freed!

Two hours and 20 minutes left.

The sugar is wearing off.

I feel a calm now.

Well, calmer, at least. And a little gross.

I am clearly crazy.

Love,

K.xxxx

Joy Chronicles Part II

1. Sundresses

Ahhhh, the smooth fabric, the vibrant colors, the feeling of freedom after winning the winter-war against the binding persecution of pants.... Yes, there is a certain feeling of delight that occurs once the sun shines brightly enough for one to sport a sundress. It is a feeling of sheer JOY.  When the weather reaches heights of warmth, fellow Chicagoan females (and some males) unite and decide to abandon as many articles of clothing as possible. And that is where the sundress comes in. There is nothing quite like walking around town with a soft, wafting, airy dress billowing around your legs. Not only is it freeing and feminine, it is full of spirit and promises of summer.

2. Hearing the ringtone on your phone after forgetting what it sounds like

Sometimes you put that sucker on silent. Or vibrate. Sometimes you just don't remember what your tones sound like. Yes, you might have put in some thoughtful time deciding what you wanted your ring tone to be when you first got your phone, weighing the pros and cons of rock versus a rotary-sounding jingle, but practicality set in when you realized you had to turn your phone to silent more often than you'd like. At work, at rehearsal, during shows, etc....It turns out not everyone likes hearing your perfectly picked out resonation.

Time passes and you don't even realize that you, yourself, have forgotten what tone you once picked. But then comes that fateful day when you turn your phone to the normal setting, and you are taken aback when the joyful techno song starts playing!

Why this might be the first time you've heard your tone in a month and a half! Joy starts rippling through your body, a smile perches on your lips, and you ROCK OUT at your desk, doing your signature dorky fist bump move so that it is visible to the construction workers meddling away outside your apartment through your open window. Yes. Dorky techno ringtones. YES.

3. Human spirit and comradery as observed underground

You enter the subway and hear the sweet melodic warblings of a 20-something male artist, his guitar and his gravelly voice enthusiastic, yet somewhat gritty, like he's been through it. Yes, he knows about life. You lean against a pillar, waiting for the train to arrive, when all of a sudden, you see another man obviously enjoying the music beyond his control. He is MOVED by it, loves the sounds, the echos, the artist's voice, the guitar riffs. He watches and listens, soon giving the singer some money.

And then, when the singer gets to a musical interlude, the moved man steps next to him and breaks out into free verse! 

Yes, engulfed by emotion, the moved man joins the singer and creates one of the most awesome acts of human spirit ever witnessed. At first one might wonder if the man is crazy, but it turns out he is an artist too, full of poetry and life. The singer's guitar paired with the man's spoken poetic word creates an impromptu slam poetry event never seen before. Underground, uninhibited, completely spontaneous. And all because of artistry and appreciation.

The train starts to roll into the station and the moved man shakes the singer's hand, smiles vibrantly, and boards the southbound red-line train, his day obviously altered in ways he hadn't expected when he left work 15 minutes earlier.


4. Saying hi to people you don't know

Maybe it's because you were taught to be friendly, or maybe it's because you are from the Midwest, but every once in awhile, you say hi to people you don't know. Sure, New Yorkers scoff upon such consideration, but Chicagoans and nice girls from Michigan believe otherwise. When you walk down the street and say hi to someone you don't know, you change that stranger's day just a little bit. They might think you are crazy, they might smile back and say hello, they might wonder if they actually do know you, but the point remains that most strangers appreciate a random act of kindness like that. In fact, your smiling mug might just make their day.


5. Finishing a race you never thought you could run

So you want to run for miles and miles when a year and a half earlier you were hobbling to the copy machine at work? Impossible. Sit down and eat a donut.

But NO!!!! You will persevere.

You run here and there and fight fatigue and lack of training and aches and pains. And you tell your knees to grow a pair and just do it. You yell at your hip and say STOP screaming at me to slow down...And race day comes and you've had just 5 or so hours of sleep and you did a show 4 nights in a row and have worked every day the past week, as well, but you say, GODDAMMIT, I'm running this race....

You get to Grant Park and join the other 25,000 runners, knowing you are running this 8k for so many reasons, but the biggest reason is to prove to yourself you can do it. You can take an injured body and heal it once again. Every mile marker, you throw your hands up in the air in excitement. You gladly accept the high-fives of strangers cheering you on. You take on the Gatorade and cups of water that the volunteers are handing out like they do in the movies. You smile broadly at the old lady who is ringing the cow-bell to encourage runners to the finish line.....

....and as you near that finish line, you are overwhelmed. You are dazzled with yourself. You have broken your own physical limits, you have refreshed your soul, you possibly shed a tear or two as you cross the finish line. Because you did it. And you did it for yourself.

Jaws, Blobs, Hot-Chocolate, and 3-Legged Dogs

Between my jaw, work, tech, and rehearsals, the month of February flew away: Thoughts and observations from the shortest month of the year. Thank God it was a short one.

1. My Jaw.

How on Earth did I dislocate my jaw. I don't know how it is possible to awaken with a tight jaw in the morning and have a disclocated jaw by nightfall. There I was, eating a popsicle when all of a sudden I was consumed with pain. Unable to eat regularly anymore, but attempting anyway, I attacked the popsicle the best I could. It was a sugar free fudgsicle. I will never forget this brand and will probably always associate dislocated jaws with fudgsicles now. By the next morning I could neither eat solids, nor could I function within the realm of societal standards. Talking was a chore, rehearsal was a nightmare, work was even worse. Laughing and smiling? Out. After realizing I had the inability to chew a mere noodle, I decided it was time for a doctor. My HMO proved feeble and I was sent all over the city with no answers. X-rays in hand, two doctor visits, and a hospital trip later, I still had no official answer. The dentist told me my jaw "probably" dislocated while I was eating and then snapped back into place sometime in the next day or so. After 2 weeks of soft foods and billions of pain-killers, here I am, jaw functioning and practically back to normal again.

WEIRD.

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Sidenote:  I really like the Dunkin Donuts ad that claims their hot chocolate is better than mittens. Really like it. Because I love mittens. But I might love hot chocolate more. I'm not sure. I actually think I might love hot chocolate and mittens equally. Equality is best. Just ask Switzerland.

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2. The Blob.

The Somewhat Gelatinous Blob From Beyond the Grave has given me joy in many ways. I took on this project not really knowing what to expect and I ultimately accepted the role for many reasons, but one of the major reasons was to have a world of ridiculousness in which to escape. After the way my autumn went down, I figured I could use something to brighten up my winter. Compensated or not, I was going to be Midge, the president's daughter, and I was going to laugh and make friends and tackle a project that seemed out of the ordinary to me. I am so thankful for this project. After lots of hard work and research, the BLOB cast has created a crazy absurdist melodramatic world that works and I'm so pleased with how it has turned out! Yes, very thankful to be a part of this.

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Sidenote: I kind of wish I knew a 3-legged dog.  How cool would that be? I wonder if they can do everything that 4-legged dogs can do, just with a little more effort. Are they like blondes and do they have more fun?

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3. Shamrock Shuffle.

Okay, am I really running in the Shamrock Shuffle or is this just a cruel joke I decided to play on myself? I thought I could get it together, but sleep deprivation, a cold, a misplaced jaw, and rehearsals have kept my training schedule at bay. Sure, I've gotten up to 4 miles, but I have not cracked past that marker yet, and the race is in ohhhhh, 3 weeks? I would like to invent a button I could press that would allow me to magically have the endurance and strength to run this race without messing up my knees and my hip again. That's what the training was going to be for, to make sure I didn't rip up my body. Well. I'm just going to light a candle and hop back on the asphalt starting Thursday. That's right! I'm going to kick this cold, and I'm going to blaze down the street in my joggers and mittens. With a cup of hot chocolate.

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Sidenote: What do you do when you are dehydrated but your body NEEDS caffeine? It is evil. Do you simultaneously drink coffee and a gallon of water at the same time? Isn't there something that will pep you up without dehydrating you? Perhaps this is a drug I am not aware of. Perhaps I should get on drugs.

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Peanut butter motorcycle-riding hypercolor trainseat takers.

1. Why is there nutritional value for unpopped popcorn seeds on the back of the popcorn bag? Who is actually eating these kernels straight from the bag? And where do all of the calories and fat content disappear to once the kernels have been popped? One piece of popcorn has considerably less calories and fat than one individual kernel. This is very confusing to me. I need to consult a nutritionist.

2. There is nothing more disheartening than getting to the bottom of the peanut butter jar and realizing you can no longer easily dip your vegetables or crackers. No, now you have reached the point where you must jam your entire hand in there, inadvertently but inevitably covering your knuckles with chunky and/or smooth peanut butter. The whole ordeal is a sticky mess, and let's face it, always just a bit awkward. Well, I have an idea. Instead of fisting the peanut butter jar, why not have a plastic container that is constructed in two pieces? Once you are halfway done with the jar, you can twist off the top plastic portion of the jar, leaving yourself with a much smaller jar that the lid still twists onto. This will create a much more efficient and enjoyable peanut butter dipping experience. I would not pay more for this, but I DO know it would change my peanut butter world considerably. I need to consult a packaging engineer.

3.  Whatever happened to hypercolor t-shirts? Where did they go? I want one. I want to wear a hypercolor t-shirt into a bar and see what would happen. I was too young to wear hypercolor to a bar when hypercolor was in. But now I am old and hypercolor has gone. I want it to make a come-back. I want to start the comeback. I am going to find a hypercolor shirt and wear it to a bar. Would it be a conversation starter? Would people try to do rude things? Would there be a fight? Would I win? Does Katherine gotta cut a bitch? THE WORLD MIGHT GO CRAZY! I need to consult a fashionista.

4. Man on train was taking up two seats. Watched as another passenger business man said "EXCUSE ME," and crawled over him, as the man taking up two seats refused to move.

Business man says, "Oh, I'm sorry, are you paying for both these seats?"

Two-seat-man says, "Ohhhhhhhh, fuuuckkkk you."

(Picture two-seat-man as a middle aged white balding guy with glasses and a winter hat, reading a stack of papers, and looking like he's probably an asshole Republican who likes to ride motorcycles in his spare time and spit in the street cuz he thinks it's cool.)

Business man goes, "You fool! Don't you know you're only supposed to take ONE SEAT?"

Two-seat-man turns up his music and ignores him.

The two men ride in disgruntled silence the rest of the way north.

I don't need to consult anyone on this. I just thought the whole exchange was very funny.

Random Thoughts 1.29.10

There are certain things that entertain me. Things that give me glee. Simple things. For instance:

1. Seeing people singing in their cars.
Sometimes the drivers know they are being watched and, quite simply, do not care. They sing on unapologetically.  It is equally exciting when they sing, not realizing others are watching them, and then when they are caught, their faces are covered with the sheepish "ohhhhhhhhhh!" This makes me feel like I was witness to something I wasn't meant to see, resulting in an inner feeling of awkward happiness.

2.When the train is pulling up to you just as you reach the platform.
You are not in a rush. It is a leisurely walk to your destination, and then the train arrives, much like a chauffeur arriving to pick up a rich woman who called a day in advance for door-to-door service.

3. The train stops RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.
I love it when the doors line up with my body and open right in front of me as if that train car was  meant specifically for me.

4. Waking up on your day off and realizing you don't need to get up.
There are so many variations on this. One is when you wake up before your alarm would have gone off and you sweetly realize you can go back to bed. Another is when you wake up after the time you would have set your alarm for and, for a split second, you think you are late and thrash around crazily in your covers, but then you realize you don't need to be up at all and you can go back to bed. One other good alarm clock moment is when you wake up and realize you still have 3 hours before you need to get up. Sleep is good. Alarm clocks are not.

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SKETCH LIST!

There are also things that make me crazy.

These are the newest Sketch Offenders of the year TEN:

1. Pen caps.
Picking up a pen from the pen holder at work and finding that there are caps on both ends of the pen. So now you don't know which end of the pen is the one that actually writes. Ultimately, there is the split-second decision which cap to pull off first, and really, you have a 50/50 chance of getting it right, but inevitably, you pull off the wrong cap and you just see the ugly stub of the pen that does not write at all, but rather, just sits there with the ink swelling in its bottom.  This bothers me. It happens to me a lot.

2. Hangers.
Shopping at a clothing store and picking out the one hanger that seems to have gotten tangled up in all the other hangers, creating a hanger incident whereby the whole bevy of hangers falls to the ground and the one shirt you want is still twisted up, mocking you, because all you wanted to do was see if it was a size 6,  but now you just give up because there are fifteen size 2Xs and twenty size 0's dancing around the one real-person-sized shirt you need, so you decide to just let all the hangers win-- except then you decide the hangers can go piss off and you swashbuckle each one expertly and put them back in their pens until you finally wrangle the size 6 and get it to the dressing room only to realize the sizing is off and you really needed an 8 in the first place and your whole struggle was for NOTHING.


that was all one sentence. i think that's pretty cool.

 

3. Alarm Clocks take 2. 
There are sweet alarm clock moments but there are also awful ones. Like the moment when you wake up and realize you have overslept. Or the moment you realize your power went out overnight and you are now late. Or the moment you realize you have set your alarm for PM instead of AM. Or the moment after you have woken up, gotten ready for work or whatnot, and realize that it is your day off and you could have stayed sleeping.

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More weird things:

1. Man on the train came up to me and told me he was going to start smoking and he was just giving me a heads up in case I wanted to move. I was angry he was going to smoke, but at the same time, I thought it was nice of him for letting me know about it before he did it.

2. Pregnant lady on train obviously about to pop the big one. She seemed to need a lot of help but no one was helping her. I silently wondered why. I kept my eye on her, prepared to hop up if she needed assistance getting off the train. Something was a little off about her. I wasn't sure what was going on. I kept thinking to myself, "God, Katherine, what's wrong with you, go talk to her, see if she's okay." But I didn't. I still don't know why. Finally, a man helped her get up as she was getting off the train to get to the hospital. As soon as she left, people started talking about how she smelled of alcohol and it seemed like she was drunk. 

I still feel bad I never helped her. 

The Man.

The man wore a black leather jacket, a small green backpack, and had a small head. His hair was thinning at the crown and his glasses suggested far-sightedness.

His gait was reminiscent of a timid businessman unsure of what he would say at his 9am meeting to close the big deal.

His boss had let him coordinate everything, reluctantly.

The man walked up the stairs, breathing sharply, uncomfortably aware that his self-worth hinged upon the next hour and a half.  He clung to the strap of his weathered backpack as if he was clinging to the credibility and respect he had built for himself over the past few years.

The man thought of his beautiful wife at the top of the stairs, imagining her face when he would give her the good news.

They had just gotten married the month before.

She never told him she almost didn't walk down the aisle.

He adjusted his glasses and straightened his jacket. And then the man walked around the corner, out of my sight, and into the city.

Random Thoughts 1.19.10

1. Woke up in middle of night to something painfully jabbing me in back. No, was not a man. Was a spoon. There is no explanation for spoon in bed. Remain confused.

2. Continue to see men, women, and children spitting multiple times a day. Continue to see loogies on sidewalk. Most current realization: it is far worse to see a loogie on street while yawning than while not yawning. Gross icky feeling ensues when mouth is open.

3. Roommate arrived back at apartment from night shift at bar just as I was getting ready to leave apartment for morning shift at hotel. We stared at each other, noting situation was just disgusting. She went to bed and I went to work. Dejavu 9 hours later as I came home from work to take nap just as she was about to leave home to start day. Repeat disgusting feeling.

4. Woman called hotel inquiring about a bottle of hot sauce left at front desk for her. Hot sauce nowhere to be seen. Decide woman is crazy.

5. Man comes down from guest room and leaves bottle of hot sauce for lady at front desk. Things now make sense. Decide they are both crazy.

6. Man checked in wearing feathered vintage 1940s hat. Reminded of childhood when I once stole feathers from crisp new mens' hats in department store. Not just one. A whole flock of feathers. Mom and Dad found said feathers in car when we got home. They were not pleased. My alibi: Gem and the Holograms made me do it. Gem wanted the feathers. I cried. I was maybe less than 5 years old. Mom and Dad did not turn me in. That is when my life of crime began.

7. Young children with bright posters lit up Clark street yesterday morning raising money for Haiti. Their spirit gives us hope.

8. Graffiti word of the day: HEAR

    Where seen: Wall of red line train written in black in between the red line stops.

    Up for interpretation: Listen to what people are actually saying. Really listen. Indulge. Engage.

                                             You might hear something unspoken.