friends – catheroominations

Help me convince my husband

catheroo — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 06:21:46 +0000

…that this sweet little girl needs to come live with us. I think she’s a shih-tzu/maltese mix, but I’m not sure. She’s around 4 months old, I think? All I know is she is so freaking cute and I’m a person who loves BIG dogs. But this one has won me over completely. I’m therefore wh0ring for comments to help me state my case. GAH she’s so cute I cannot stand it! And aren’t you all sick of cat pictures?

Shall we play a game?

catheroo — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 22:05:56 +0000

You all know how much I love competition and how winning an awesome prize motivated me to eat healthy and be more active during my 10-week boot camp challenge. Well, while reading Fit Bottomed Girls yesterday, I came across a review of this awesome book. Even though the title contains the word DIET, which I detest and don’t believe in anyway, everything else in the review made me want to immediately pick up a copy of The Game On! Diet and find some friends to play with me.

As the title says, the idea behind the book is to kick your friend’s ass while shrinking your own. You form two or more teams of at least two people and try to earn more points than the other team(s). You play for four weeks at a time, checking in weekly. You earn points each day by getting at least 7 hours of sleep, drinking lots of water, making healthy food choices and eating 5 meals, getting at least 20 minutes of exercise, practicing healthy habits, and keeping in touch with teammates and opponents. When you lose weight at the weekly weigh-in you earn bonus points too! But it’s not all good: you lose points when you snack on crappy food, try to sabotage someone else, or drink alcohol.

I know what you’re thinking – NO ALCOHOL?! I can’t do that! But every week you get one day to eat and drink whatever you want. Deprivation breeds failure, at least with me, so I like this free day stuff. I call it Baconday.

Authors Krista Vernoff, a producer for Grey’s Anatomy and Az Ferguson, Body-For-Life million dollar champion teach you how to rid your diet of junk and focus on whole foods (not to be confused with Whole Foods). They give you recipes, suggestions for healthy habits and yoga and workout instructions. I’ve only just thumbed through the book, but from what I have seen this is a great way for someone whittle into shape and I can’t wait to get started. I just need more people to play with!

If you’ve struggled with staying motivated or have just begun your journey into healthy eating and exercise, join me and my friends! It’ll be so fun kicking each other’s asses, we might forget we’re doing it for our own good! And we’ll have to think of a fabulous prize at the end. This is one competition where being a loser means you’re awesome.

Channeling a character from The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society*

catheroo — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 02:58:14 +0000

A letter to AllanThinks and AliThinks, 25th of March, 2009

OK. You guys were at Al’s tonight, right? For a Twitter meetup?

Well…

I had this co-worker (I will call her S) when I worked at the University of Kentucky Department of Surgery Publications Office. I always felt that she was too smart for me although we got along very well. She was very “bookish” like I was, but in a more highfalutin’ way. She once recommended I read some Flannery O’Connor and I tried, but UGH. Way over my 24-year old head. S and I both loved cats and French, and Berea crafts, and Birkenstocks, and other similar things, so we became friends. Our other coworker, C was also into cats and things so the three of us were work buddies.

We sat in one large room with our boss. Let’s call her W. In our drab room of an office, each of us sat in our own corner, with our back to the center of the room, and partitions beside or behind us to simulate privacy. So friendly! Because W demanded Total Silence so she could focus on such things as plasminogen activators, thrombocytopenia, or documenting sex change operations, the three of us with poorer work ethics began conversing via email. Considering that the office was about 20 feet wide by 25 feet long, this was not the quickest form of communication because it took so long to send our thoughts through the tubes all the way around the world or where ever they went before landing at our desks. But we were to remain mute unless a surgeon walked in needing our editing or desktop publishing expertise, so email was the only way for us to talk.

I think it was Tuesdays that were Street French days. Each week, one of us was in charge of teaching the other two a new word or phrase. Sometimes it was so hard not to snicker at what would appear in my inbox. But if I let out a giggle (or a fart, for that matter), I was afraid I’d be knocked upside the head. (I regret not backing up those emails on a floppy disk so today I could sit there and look at that floppy, thinking, “I sure wish I could see what I saved on there, but this Mac doesn’t have a floppy drive!”)

Anyway, I digress. Or did you not notice?

For some reason, just yesterday I decided to look for S on teh internets. Lo and behold, there she was! She has a web site and she is still like totally ohmigod smart and stuff too. She’s also on Twitter, but I didn’t click the Follow button for fear that she’d find my own Twitter page. I mean, it would be like Chrissie Snow requesting to follow Stephen Hawking. S does tweet some lovely poetry though. I sort of want to stalk her for that. She even has a couple of poetry books published. I have one that she sent me years ago.

Just in case I am painting a not-so-nice picture of S, you should also know that she is also a very nice, caring person with a dry wit. But, remember on How I Met Your Mother when Ted’s college girlfriend came back and they hooked up? And how Ted’s friends felt like everything and everyone seemed beneath her? That’s how I feel around S. Unlike the Heir to the Massengil Fortune on HIMYM, it’s not on purpose, and it’s not her fault. I know that I am intimated by her intelligence, and it’s like, totally me and not her, but still.

(It’s taking me a long time to get to the point, isn’t it? This is how I talk in real life, by the way. I include several unrelated details you probably don’t care about, but they pop into my head so I must include them, however haphazard they are.)

OK. So. I went through the posts on S’s blog, and one of them from earlier this week promoted a poetry event she would be attending on Wednesday (tonight). At…

wait for it…

Al’s in Lexington.

So when I saw Allan’s tweets about you guys being at a Twitter meetup at Al’s and the bar being taken over by the poetry people…

DUDE!

(S would never say dude, even for dramatic effect, by the way.)

My two universes collided in Kentucky tonight. Did the walls shake or anything?

I felt a rumble under my feet all the way over here.

*The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society is an epistolary novel. It’s a really cute story, sometimes sad, but a really fun ~~read~~ listen. I checked out the audio book from the library.

A final curtain call

catheroo — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 06:54:21 +0000

This week I learned that American Musical Theatre of San Jose has closed its doors.

And I became terribly sad.

American Musical Theatre of San Jose (AMTSJ, or AMT, as I like to still call it) is the local professional theatre company here. I once ~~auditioned~~ interviewed for a job as the assistant to the Executive Producer. I heard about the position from a friend and was tired of working in accounting. The job paid little more than that of a Starbucks barrista, and I couldn’t afford to live on that, so I declined the offer. I had loved hearing about the theatre company so much during the interview process, that I decided to volunteer backstage as a dresser, helping with costumes during productions.

The first time I stepped into the studio space at AMT, I was nervous. I didn’t know anyone, and knew nothing about costumes, or sewing. But I was immediately greeted with a smile from Val, a seasoned AMT dresser. She and I became fast friends, and soon I met the rest of my backstage pals (sisters, as we called ourselves), including Jenni, Andy (a boy, but still a sister), and Kari. Working backstage became my new hobby, and I would have rather been backstage than at my office. A few shows after my first with AMT, I met Shannon and Steph. Others came and went, but our close group of dressers, the Chicks in Black (yes, even Andy), became a family.

We would arrive in the evening, after chowing down some fast food and changing from our day clothes to all-black. Most of us had day jobs, but during the three-week or so run of a show, we would put our lives, families, and friends aside, and drive straight from work to the theatre, and not get home until around midnight Tuesdays through Saturdays. (Sundays we got home a bit earlier because the evening performance started an hour earlier.) We did shows Tuesday through Friday, and 2 on Saturday and Sunday. (I once made magnets for us that said “Theatre people do it 8 times a week.” and shirts that said “Dressers do it in the dark/with velcro/quick”…etc.) In the beginning, we were paid for our expenses, which included mileage and black clothing. Eventually we got raises, but none of us did it for the money. We were volunteers. We did it for the art. For the people we got to work with. And, let’s be honest. For the naked men. Gay or straight, they’re still naked. Or at least in dance belts.

Upon arriving at the Center for Performing Arts each show night, I was transformed. I escaped reality and entered a world of fantasy.

I got to work with God, Adam and Eve, and watch Noah bring the animals onto his ark in Children of Eden.
I spent evenings under the spell of the Phantom and watched the masquerade ball from backstage, like a child spying on his parents.
I helped dress showgirls and then helped them into rain slickers for Singin’ in the Rain. Every performance included a rain shower onstage, for Don to tap dance in.
I witnessed nightly duels between D’Artagnan, Aramis, Athos, and Porthos and the bad guys. (The actress playing Constance in the world premiere of The 3hree Musketeers would go on to win her first Tony Award for Thoroughly Modern Millie).
I finally got to dress boys when we did Victor/Victoria, but they dressed in drag a lot for that show, so my experience dressing women came in handy.
Grease, one of my all-time favorite movies had me singing along silently as I set my 50s costumes, waiting for a pompous little actor to run to me so I could rip off his clothes.
Evita began shortly after my friend Val passed away, and at our first run-through, we all cried (with Argentina) during the funeral scene.
During opening night of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, I found out Jamie had cancer. I had to drop out of the show to take care of him.
After I resumed my pre-caregiving life, I stopped letting people rain on my parade and reunited with my theatre family for Funny Girl. One of the guys I was dressing wore chaps and liked to put them on with nothing on underneath.
Joanne Worley and her pup Harmony joined us for the next show, On the 20th Century. That woman can laugh!
After that, came Dreamgirls, starring ousted American Idol contestant Frenchie Davis. Every night when she belted “you’re gonna love me,” and hit that high note, I got chills. She was a kick, that Frenchie.
Dreamgirls was a busy show for me (wink, wink) so when A Chorus Line started, starring Dr. Craig Wesley from DOOL, it was a welcome change to be able to sit upstairs near the dressing rooms and knit for almost the entire show talking to Dr. Craig Wesley! until our singular costume change just before the finale.
After A Chorus Line danced out of the theatre, Carole King’s Tapestry came in. I spent a lot of my waiting-to-dress-my-actors time pretending to be really into Carole King tunes, and dancing around, doing my Janet Jackson impression.
The last show I dressed at AMT was the Wizard of Oz. Sadly, I had to leave the show mid-run because my toes swelled up like baby carrots. Damn that psoriatic arthritis.

I hated having to stop dressing. I missed my creative outlet. I missed my friends. I missed hearing the sound of beautiful voices warming up, and long-legged dancers contorting themselves to stretch their muscles before a show. I missed the girl talk in the ladies’ dressing room and the gurl talk in the men’s dressing room. I missed hearing the orchestra tune their instruments. I missed the cheers from the audience during bows. I missed going out for drinks across the street with the dressers, even if it meant I’d only get 5 hours of sleep. I still miss it. I miss all of it.

I wanted to go back someday when my now hectic work schedule would allow it, and be a part of something so special once again. But now AMT is gone.

Thank you, AMT. For the music, the talent, the laughs, and the memories. I will miss you.

I’ll bet we’ve been together for a million years

catheroo — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 05:19:46 +0000

By now you’ve probably heard that Barack Obama and Brad Pitt are related. Allegedly. Well guess what.

They occupy branches on my family tree too. Yes they do.

During Christmas vacation in Wisconsin last year, I learned from Matte’s uncle Gary (who is into ancestry stuff) that I am related to Laura Bush. Laura Bush. Not Gee Dub. Well yes Gee Dub, but only by marriage. Whew! Dodged that bullet. Anyway, today when I read the article about Barack and Brad being kissin’ 9th cousins, I learned that Barack is also a distant cousin to Gee Dub. Sooo, as Gee Dub is husband to Laura, I am therefore related to Barack Obama. And Brad Pitt. Yeah, by marriage way down the line. Minor details. This also brings me one degree closer to Kevin Bacon.

Suddenly I feel the need for a family reunion. And I think Cousin Brad should host it. At his friend George Clooney’s home in Italy.

Fiends

catheroo — Sat, 15 Mar 2008 05:59:04 +0000

Once upon a time, my friend Beth sent out a note about her upcoming 30th birthday celebration. She closed the note with “you’re all great fiends” or some similar sentiment. And yes, she left the ‘r’ out of friends.

It stuck. Ever since that note, my circle of friends has been known as Fiends. When our fiend Julie passed away, we started a Yahoo! group to keep in touch and email daily doses of support to everyone in the group. It was a perfect way to keep in touch, especially with those that were far away. Those first few months after Julie’s passing were difficult for us all, but having the support of each other got us through it. Slowly.

Life has been moving very fast for the Fiends lately and we don’t spend as much time together as we once did. It’s hard to get us all in the same place at the same time. But we’re still close and would drop anything to help one of us in need.

Tonight I got to spend time with 2 fiends, Tracey and June. We have all had some stress in our lives lately and it was good to just be together and talk about things, catching up with what’s been going on in each other’s lives. Tonight we didn’t want the loud “nn-tch nn-tch nn-tch” music of a bar, or to get all dressed up to go somewhere fancy. We just wanted to be. So we went to an old skool type place, that caters to a more mature crowd (the Blue Hairs, if you will).

Because I had already eaten a dinner of stir-fried chicken, asparagus and brown rice, I forwent (is that the past tense of forgo?) the meal and went along for the company, my camera in tow. I still had to shoot my last submission for the 7 Days group in Flickr. While they dined on the fine cuisine (note sarcasm), I had a glass of Cabernet. And because this was a night where comfort food was much in need, the girls ordered hot fudge sundaes. I still nursed my wine, and rather than knocking them over the head with the jar of sugar and stealing their sundaes, I shot a photo of one instead. Much fewer calories that way. The best part of the night though, was when we were discussing our trails and tribulations, the song that our beloved fiend Julie asked to be played at her funeral (Green Day’s Good Riddance/Time of Your Life) came on over the sound system. For some reason, that song comes on at the most appropriate times. And since we all became such close fiends because Julie brought us together, it was perfect that the song played tonight. It was like a little “Hey” from Julie. Interesting that I haven’t heard that song in awhile, nor had I spent quality time with my fiends in much too long.

Below is a photo of the delectable hot fudge sundae that I did not eat (nor did I taste! How’s that for will power?).

And this here is my last self-portrait of the week. Next go round, you should play with us. Click on the link to in my sidebar to join the 7 Days group. You’ll be glad you did!

Gum would be perfection

catheroo — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 15:07:03 +0000

And this post is too. Go. Read it. It will make you feel all warm inside. I love this post. I love the “ding. ding. ding.” It put me right there with her and her bucket. I love the way she tells a story and you will too. Go visit her and read through her archives too. She’s talented, smart, funny, and she’s also a pretty hot babe.

I will never look at Salvation Army volunteers without remembering this post. I will even give them some change, and I will make eye contact and smile. Because this post had such an impact on me, I am giving mcgee at memoirs of a gee the Perfect Post Award* for January. Because she rawks.

*The Perfect Post Awards were created by Lindsay and Kimberly. The next time you see a post and think “Whoa. Damn. Wow.” nominate it for a Perfect Post Award.