Everything’s coming up Roses

As a young Katye, New Year’s meant two things: staying up late and watching the ball drop and waking up early to watch the tournament of rose’s parade. Oh how I loved that parade! Not only did I want to go to the parade, I wanted to be in the parade! Year after year I would watch as kids from the YMCA, the boy scouts, and some New Mexico equestrian club would ride on floats in fab Native American costumes. Being 100% Caucasian, a girl, and not in any clubs I was limited in my float riding qualifying options. I was also never in a marching band, couldn’t play any instruments, and am terrified of horses (that’s a blog in itself).
Every year my dad would see me and the sibs watching the parade and announce that we would go next year. We never went. In fact, I was at my parent’s house yesterday watching the parade with Sarah and sure enough dad announced that we would go to the parade next year. I was less than enthused. You see, I finally had the chance to go to the Rose Parade five or six years ago and frankly, it sucked. Looking back, if we had fancy bleacher seats and descent parking and some coffee it probably would have elated my inner child. But in the spirit of spontaneity it was about as much fun as sitting next to an arm rest hog on an international flight…
So that New Year’s Eve was spent in downtown Pasadena boozing-it-up on Colorado Blvd and at Brianna’s janky apartment. Bri and I decided that night that before going home to Thousand Oaks we might as well get up early and watch the parade. Somehow between too much sugar, rum, and delirium we decided that this was an excellent idea. Now the people who get good free spots at the parade start camping out as the sun sets on New Year’s Eve but we weren’t that smart. Hung-over and sleep-deprived, we rolled up to Colorado Blvd about an hour before the parade started and spent a good half hour trying to find parking. Of course, we didn’t have chairs, snacks, or water and finally found a spot at the very end of the parade. Our spot was leaning up against a fence attached to the last set of bleachers. It sucked. The floats were less visible, it reeked of bratwurst and trash, and my Ralph Lauren “Jenny from the Block” puffy jacket got ripped on the fence, feathers everywhere. I looked like a molting bum and felt like shit.
As a freshman in high school, a friend’s mom took about 4 or 5 of us down to decorate the floats a few days before the actual parade. Now when you see the ktla coverage of the families decorating the floats you only see the fun parts, actually decorating the floats. When we kids got to the warehouse we were divided into groups, those over 15, like my brother, got to go inside and climb up beams to scatter seeds and feathers on various large mushrooms and Bank of America signs. They all knew which floats they helped to decorate and potentially point at with pride during the live coverage. My awesome group spent several hours cutting and de-stemming roses and placing them into viles all while inside a makeshift tent in December. Okay, maybe this is why I am not a fan of roses? If you like me and want me to like you, seriously never buy me a bouquet of roses with baby’s breath, unless it’s my quinceanera or April fools day. So my dad really does want to buy swanky bleacher seats to next year’s parade, I’m not holding my breath. Don’t worry, I have no immediate plans to arch up and down Colorado Blvd with a sign that blares,” Suck-it Rose Parade”…At this point, I would just rather go to the Rose Bowl. Fight on.


Spin Cycle

Sometimes I wish I could avoid the hassle of packing all of my necessities into a suitcase, waiting in long lines, and getting strip-searched by TSA all to travel through the sky in a diet coke can. Clearly, I’m not a huge fan of flying. Most people that say they are terrified of crashing require serious medication and alternative therapies to fly home for the holidays. I simply loathe flying because I hate sitting still for long periods of time and oh yeah, I get motion sickness. (Yes, this girl gets sick on windy roads, roller coasters, boats, ballet class,etc, sexy right? Obviously it’s not something I’m proud of so I try to disguise it by avoiding such situations or taking a lot of Bonine!)
That being said, when my sisters and I planned our trip to NY I wasn’t too worried about a motion commotion since I had just recently gone back to NY and the flight was pretty smooth. As we sprinted through LAX to make our flight last Sunday morning ( we were in the wrong terminal, shocking) we felt pretty confident in our decision to fly the friendly skies via Virgin America. The plane was super sleak, with comfy seats, a sleak red interior, and personal tvs. Our featured flight attendant, a young flamboyant lad with a gelled back faux French bun, introduced himself as, “Fabiono!” (Yes, that was his name, even I can’t make this sh*t up.) Our steward first asked in the eagerest of tones,” Now who amongst us is a Virgin virgin?!” He then proceeded to tell us that he was our personal genie and was here to grant our wishes, quite the tall order. Fabi guided us to our monitors to watch a hilarious video on flight safety and we were on our way.
Within minutes of taking off and in my drowsy Dramamine 7am flight delirium, our captain came on and told us that we would be experiencing some turbulence for the next 40 minutes and it was nothing to be worried about. GREAT! Turbulence is one of my least favorite words, besides ”moist” and “dentist” but for different reasons…So I did all I could do, take several deep breaths, turn on my ipod, and try to rest, and maybe panic just a little. Now I have been fortunate enough to have flown on several bumpy flights in the last few years but this was like a soaring shake-weight! Fellow flyers all around us started to react and groan to the tin tidal wave. The captain came on again after 20 minutes and said that this was unusual weather and pilots all over the skies were commenting on it. Another 20 minutes came by and the captain sounded less confident this time. He told us that the motion would continue for another hour and for all of those people who are afraid of flying the plane could handle worse. Awesome! His statements were reassuring but the delivery was far from comforting. I pictured him in the cock-pit( I’ve been waiting 10 minutes just to type that word hehe) curled up in the fetal position and clinging to his blankie a la Linus from Peanuts!
Needless to say I got sick, several times. This time around I wasn’t the only one; I actually heard a few others around me lose their breakfast and as much as I hated it I also found it a bit comforting knowing I wasn’t the only pucker. The captain continued to repeat his now slogan about the plane being able to handle worse conditions while I tried not to have a panic attack…The woman behind Noelle yelped that she was a yoga instructor and didn’t want to die. The tv’s stopped working, everyone was thirsty for their overdue complimentary soda, and Fabiano, still gayer than a goose, was flapping around trying to calm people and himself.
After over two hours of being inside a motion simulator, the skies started to smooth out, we finally got our “free” drinks, and finally made it above New York. I say above because the runway at JFK was overcrowded so we circled the sky for half hour. At that point el capitan decided to tell us that we had all just experienced some of the worst turbulence he’s ever felt and thanked us for joining him in a ride inside of a washer machine! Again, so comforting right?! I spent the majority of the turbulence forcing Noelle to hold my hand and trying to ignore the glares of cranky flyers who didn’t like the sound of me loosing my stomach on board! At the baggage terminal, we overheard multiple groups of people from our place discussing the terrible ride and how they thought they almost died! We met two strapping young military school boys on our shuttle who were, too, still reeling from the flight. Our shuttle ride was spent making sense out of the ridiculous ride and what we determined to be the “B” flight crew. After all, there’s no way that Fabiano( who’s real name is probably “Eddy”) and the AARP ladies were first class flight attendants!
Of course I will still fly again and thankfully our flight home was super smooth and sans Fabiano. In the meantime, I’m working on a safer, less traumatizing approach to travel, teleporting. I will keep you posted!

Yogurt and BS

Whenever I turn on the tv these days I see the same super annoying commercial, again and again and again! It drives me nuts and makes me really wonder who pitches the ideas over at Yoplait and how crappy were the other ideas if this is what they went with…This is how the said ad goes: Two 30-something girlfriends are ordering at a local coffee shop. The first girl, a healthy-looking cute blonde, orders a 310 calorie latte and the other chick, an anorexic scarecrow of a girl, orders a 400+ calorie decaf coffee beverage.( Now I don’t understand why anyone would waist 400+ calories on a DECAF beverage but that’s another rant in and of itself.) Immediately after ordering her hot cup of calories the skinny betch looks down at the snack shelf and is enlightened by a Yoplait yogurt and decides to get it instead. She than looks confident at the wise and “healthy” choice she made and her friend feels like crap.
Okay so this bothers me for multiple reasons…Why would Yoplait cast a toothpick of a woman to advertise making healthy choices? Had the normal sized girl made the same “healthy” decision to get a yogurt and save calories we still would have mocked the commercial but applauded her wiser choice. But because they hired Kate Moss’ friend, I always root for her to advert away from the yogurt and pick a sandwich or a croissant! Also, last time I checked Yoplait wasn’t healthy. In fact, the average Yoplait cup of yummy contains more sugar than a candy bar and the light version is loaded with artificial sweeteners. Not the healthiest choice, huh? If she was really weight conscious she would have ordered a nonfat or skinny coffee beverage and with some caffeine to pump her little bod with some energy! She also shouldn’t choose breakfast or coffee, choose both, you’re hungry!
Sure, it’s a lot tougher to order a fancy frapp or lattee when the calories are posted for all to see and judge. If you really want to splurge on that caramel macchiato delight every now and than go for it, hopefully the Yoplait betch won’t be there to judge. Also, I’m going to apply for a few jobs in advertising and casting because my ideas are so much better than this…I’m thinking tap-dancing penguins flinging yogurt, brilliant.


    There’s just no way to glamorous or justify it – I have a Target addiction. I’ve actually always had somewhat of a Target addiction but as of late it has gotten worse. Here’s the problem with Target: They entice you with ads and comparable prices and then lure you in with designer specials, isle sale items, and a Starbucks by the entrance! It is nearly impossible to run into Target just to grab a few things.And literally everywhere you go there’s a freakin Target!  In a typical weeks time I frequent Target 2-4 times and I usually go with a list in mind. But with so many shiny objects and gadgets that a 5 minute trip for a nail file and black socks turns into an hour-plus $80-later sort of trip! Ever since I opened my Target debit card with instant 5% savings it has made the whole justification process even more of an issue. Don’t even get me started on online shopping, I might need a pace maker to open that box of bliss!

   The tip of the perverbial iceburg was recent the Missoni for Target launch. I actually stayed up until 3 am to start online shopping and by 7:45 am I found myself outside of a super Target, waiting for the doors to open.( I was surrounded  by some pretty intense post-botox soccer moms clutching various carts and wearing running shoes…I bet they moonlight as extreme couponers,also) What makes matters worse was that I actually had three girlfriends at different Targets all trying to help me and themselves get the entire collection. Ironically, with the money I spent on the bullseyes budget Missoni I could have bought an authentic Missoni piece. I’ll save that scenario for my therapist.

  So for the sake of my wallet and my sanity I’ve devised a few rules for myself and for all other Target addicts out there:

1. Always make a list of what you need and stick to it! If you see something fabulous along the way, (which you will since every Target is arranged so the stuff you need is miles apart) don’t nab it unless it is such an amazing deal that you get paid to buy it…

2. Unless you are actually going to Target with the intent to purchase a tv or a dresser, don’t grab a cart. psychologically,  we want to fill am empty cart just like we want to fill our souls…Ok not that deep, but you get my dramatic point,right? I tend to now only buy what I can carry. If stuff is starting to fall out of my arms it just wasn’t meant to be.

3. Try the buddy system. Bring a friend, sibling, or significant other with you (bonus points if you have a screaming baby). Let this trusted person keep you on track.

4. Bottom line: If you don’t need Target brand bath tissue with a baby cherub on the box or the complete box set of Grey’s Anatomy, don’t by it. All of these little purchases add up.  

  Okay so I don’t have a 12-step program lined up quite yet…but it’s a nice thought. As I write this I stare at the heaps of target bags by my door and I’m thinking it’s time to go on a returning binge. Sounds somewhat extreme, sure, but it is much healthier than the alternative – exchanging!


Pumpkins, photographed in Canada.

Image via Wikipedia

  Now I’m sure we’re all well familiar with the phrase,”You can never have too much of a good thing.” I’m also sure that I could make a lengthy list of things that would fall on either side of this debate but I will just cut to the chase…when it comes to the holidays and pre-holiday season I feel like I enter a everything-you-eat-and breath-is-pumkin for three-months phase! The reality is you can most certainly have too much of this beloved squash/gourd and it’s friends! It’s friends I am referring to are the other over-played holiday flavors of: gingerbread, cinnamon spice, and *gasp* eggnog.

  Allow me to back-peddle, last month I strolled into Starbucks (still fresh off the treat receipt days of summer) only to cringe in disbelief to already see advertisements all over the store blaring the return of the oh so allusive pumpkin spice flavor. As I went to order my usual overpriced espresso beverage the barista behind the counter informed me that the pumpkin drinks had arrived ( gee, I hadn’t noticed). She than tried to convince me to try a sample of the pumpkin spiced frappuccino. After I informed her that I was not a pumpkin fan she told me,” Oh everyone likes the pumpkin frap it tastes like Chai!” Now there are two things I hate in this world, okay that’s a lie I loath several things, but frappaccinos and artificial pumpkin are at the topish of the list! Clearly Starbucks knows what its consumers like but it doesn’t stop there: Trader joes sells pumpkin pancake mix, Jamba juice has a pumpkin smoothie, and the pumpkin boutique cupcake is evidently the new black! Don’t even get my started on Bath&Body Works pumpkin scented lotions!

   Okay so I don’t hate pumpkins (although I do think eggnog is completely gagworthy and if I were forced to drink it at gunpoint I might need a moment to prepare a will). I just wish my favorite yogurtland flavors weren’t replaced with  it and that every candle isle didn’t reek of it. The smell of pumpkin reminds me that the holidays are coming and that consumer Americas end of the year buying scam is upon us, and I for one may just not be ready…I love the holidays, but just one dose at a time, please.


    So wordpress.com suggests that everyone’s first post should be titled,”Hello World”. So basically, the staff wants us to introduce ourselves and our mantra’s to the cyberworld in a coming-out-of-the-perverbial-blog closet sort of stance. Yeah, I’m not feeling it. I’m honestly not sure what I will write about on a day-to-day or by weekly basis. Do I have opinions on everything? Well yes of course! Those who say they don’t are either living in a Puritan society or are too numb to mass media to make statements of any credibility. Naturally, I’m easily amused and equally distracted*steps away from computer to check her latest tweet.* Now I do plan on writing product reviews ranging from lip gloss to literature to vibrators, to…Ok maybe not sex toys but I like to keep things interesting. Still awake?

The site also suggests I write short stories that end in sentences like,”If I had gone back in time and taken Dr. Johnson’s advice would I still be here?” Great idea for a highschool creative writing class but unless I want a career in soap opera writing I don’t think my motives are to bore myself and you. Okay now I’m torn between actually writing a blog post or just contemplating what Dr. Johnson’s advice was…Maybe something serious like a rare blood condition, or maybe, just maybe he knew how much redbull, caffeine, and taurine I consume on a daily basis and advised me to cut it out…cold turkey. *gasps* Well Dr. Johnson I am not taking your advice! Ha! Okay…maybe I should lay off the caffeine a little as it is 1am and I am wide awake. Oh, or  perhaps I shall go all green tea cleanse on his ass and naturally caffeinate myself. I could always go on a detox, and I could blog about that…hmmm