Tag Archive: brother


So Drew mentioned to me this past weekend that he was starting Grey’s Anatomy from the beginning.

We’ve done this before. We own all of the seasons on DVD and we have watched every single episode. More than once.

I know I’ve talked about this before, but I am telling you: I am Meredith Grey.

Drew disagreed with me for a moment today when we were talking and he cited one fact that would make it so Meredith Grey and I were not the same person. In the third or fourth episode of the season, the one where George and Izzie unpack Meredith’s mom’s surgery tapes. And Meredith had had a bad day and came home and was all kinds of pissed off. And George goes, “I ordered chinese food.” and Meredith shouts, “I HATE CHINESE FOOD!”

I would never do that.

I just wouldn’t.

But the thing is, at the very beginning of the show, Meredith isn’t that dark and twisty yet. Meredith is just normal, but with a side of cynicism. It’s Derek who ruins her. He’s the one who makes her go all dark and twisty. Okay, yeah, her avoidance behavior was always there. And she was kinda shut off, but he pushed her over the edge.

Derek is all bright and shiny and practically perfect every way (much like Mary Poppins, apparently). He’s all optimistic about love and thinks that people can and will be together forever. He has faith in love.  That’s just something I don’t understand. He thinks marriage is real. Or, rather, that it’s more than a “cute idea,” which is my reaction to that word. He totally loves her and she just doesn’t even know what to do with that. Well, until she becomes bright and shiny too. Whatever.

Don’t hate me ’cause I’m not bright and shiny.

I feel like it’s a positive change that I went from Cristina to Meredith, though. This change still baffles me. I just recall watching Grey’s Anatomy on DVD in the dorms with the girls and it’d be like OH EM GEE, YOU’RE SOOOO IZZIE  or “you’re totally meredith! tee hee hee!!” But then it would come to be my turn and errrbody would look at me and be like OKAY, CRISTINA! and I was always like uhm yeah, that’s awesome ’cause Cristina is a badass. Like, I didn’t realize what an emotionally stunted freak she was. Lolz. (This whole post is ridiculous. I know that.)

Anyway, I have gotten sucked back into Grey’s Anatomy. It’s Drew’s fault. Because now I’m just going to give specific reasons now as to why I’m all dark and twisty and tell myself that relating to a tv show on such a personal level like I already do is totally normal.

I already cite stuff that happens on Grey’s Anatomy as fact or real life.

Do you have a character you relate to on a crazy level, like I do?! What show/movie?  I could seriously make a looooong list of movies and characters I swear I’m same same same with. You know?! I can’t be alone in this…!

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Today was/is my baby brother’s 21st birthday.

I thought I’d do something just a little different because of that fact.

There are countless reasons I love him, but I wanted to list just a few.

(Go ahead and dry heave. It’s gonna get mushy.)

1.) I love that I can say I’ve know him his whole life. There aren’t many people I can say that about. In fact, I think there’s only one other person I can say that about and that’s because she’s a baby and was born in April. But Drewy is 21 years old now and that’s a long time to know someone.

2.) He kind of understand my crazy.

3.) We have a crazy awesome way of talking to each other. We can communicate almost entirely in movie lines/gestures. It’s almost sick. But mostly it’s awesome and hilarious.

4.) I can count on him for anything.

5.) He acts like an idiot with me. (Uhm, how many things have we broken when we act like “cub bears”?!?! Let’s never ever stop doing that!)

6.) His commitment to things that he cares about is amazing.

7.) There’s something about him that makes it so that I never actually get mad at him. I yell a lot when I’m pissed but it’s always fleeting. There was that one time we didn’t talk for a couple days ’cause I thought he behaved like a dickhole but then we talked on the phone and cried and told each other how much we love each other.

8.) He might be the best person I know.

I strangely had a hard time trying to list things. There’s just so much I love about him that it’s hard to put into words.  Having him be so far away and not just a text message away has been really odd for me. I’ve been so used to being able to ask him anything at the touch of a button. I’ve been so used to having him laugh at me or be stupid with me on a regular basis (let’s just recall for a moment that time I made him act like a dinosaur with me in our living room? What? You guys don’t know that story?! Ohhh, you’ll just have to remind me to tell you that one some day.) To have him not here, well, frankly, it sucks. I miss him like crazy.

Christmas can’t come soon enough. That’s what I say.

Hey y’all!

(I wish I could get away with saying that. But, alas, I am not southern. Sad face for me.)

So I was originally going to write an open letter to my brother because I had to move some of his belongings today and I was outraged by the amount of clothing he has and felt inspired to write him hate mail. I also would have included in that letter (albeit totally inappropriate and unnecessary to include in a letter to one’s baby brother) that I totally wore the wrong bra today to be running up and down stairs as bouncily as I did today. Upsetting. Anyway. Luckily for him, the drive from the old house to the new house is long enough that my ADD and rapid-fire thoughts kicked in and made me think of an awesomer idea.

Remember how I said I would post pictures of the new house? Well, I remembered that too. So I hunted down the camera and plugged the little memory card into my ‘puter.  And I had forgotten about some of the pictures I took. Like this gem:

bahaha she looks SO good!

I also found this one:

Oh heyyyyy beautiful kitchen!

So yeah, lovely pictures, right?! I know!

I did something better though. Anyone who enjoys people making an ass of themselves will enjoy what I did. I did a house tour, like I was on some ghetto, super low-budget, one shakey-as-fuck camera version of MTV Cribs. If you have motion sickness (like me) you probably shouldn’t watch it because I can’t hold a camera stead y to save my life, apparently. That’s fine, though, because I have other important life skills. Like, … uhm, well, crap! I know I have some…!? I’ll have to think of those later.

Anyway, here it is, lovelies!

You should probably leave a comment with your thoughts on my terrible cinematography skills AND (/or?!) what you think of the new house! Or, if you can think of any important life skills I possess, that would be glorious! 🙂

I wouldn’t say that I talk a lot of shit about my hometown.

I mean, there are definitely people who talk more shit about my hometown than I do. For example, my brother talks a whole lotta shit about our hometown. When he finished high school, he was done. He basically gave our hometown the middle finger and pulled a Chris Brander:

This town is full of losers and I’m pulling out to win!

Except he didn’t pull out on a bike and ride down the street. Nor was he 300 pounds. And, to my knowledge, he never sat alone in his room lip-synching to I Swear by All-4-One. (I know, it’s an excellent song!) Actually, he may have done that. I can’t be certain, though.

Anyway, my point is, our hometown is pretty okay. I mean, people can be catty and sometimes it’s really clique-y and it feels like everyone knows everyone else’s business, but that can happen anywhere.

There are times, though, when something happens and you stop for a moment and remember why your town is awesome and why the people who make up the community are just good people.

Something happened on Sunday that made me realize how glad I am to be part of my hometown and still feel a connection to it. Something horribly tragic. Something inconceivably sad.

On Sunday, four seniors from last year’s graduating class were in a car accident. Three of the four were killed and one remains in the hospital. They were just babies; they were fresh out of high school and just beginning their adventures into adulthood. The boy who lived (I swear that wasn’t an intentional Harry Potter reference!) is expected to make a full recovery, but the road will definitely be a long one.

The effect this car crash had on our community was intense. On facebook, I watched an outpouring of support fill my newsfeed, and I continue to see it.  The grief was so apparent, and all I saw was love. Love for the families, love for those lost, love for those in recovery, love for the friends who experienced loss, love for the community in general. Even people who didn’t personally know any of the kids were touched. It was truly amazing and I really just feel so thankful to have been raised in such a loving community. I’m so thankful to know people who are so caring and compassionate.

I really just want to say that it’s so important to tell those people close to you how much they mean to you. It’s important to make sure the people you care about know you love them. It’s important to think of others and reach out in times of need.

My town gets that.

And I love that.

With Drew studying abroad, it makes me wish I would have been brave and done study abroad while I was in college.

I was too much of a chickenshit to ever leave home.

I went to college twenty minutes away from my childhood home. With traffic, the car ride from my apartment at school to the house I grew up in was twenty minutes. I went home all the time. Sometimes, it was because I legitimately had a reason, like I forgot something. Most of the time, though, I went home for dumb, pretend reasons. I went home to hang out with my dog. I went home to steal food and avoid going grocery shopping (it stresses me out!). I went home to watch movies I wasn’t allowed to take with me back to school. I went home just to have my mom do my laundry (but not fold it, ’cause she does it wrong) and take care of me when I was hungover.

I’m still a pansy, but that is neither here nor there.

My point is that I am so envious of Drew’s European adventure. He posted pictures from his weekend trip to Paris, Brussels and Amsterdam on facebook yesterday. Looking at the pictures from Paris, it made me want to go there again so bad. (We went my junior year of college and I skipped more than a week of classes to do so.) I saw his pictures of the Arc de Triomphe and immediately felt like I needed to go back. His pictures of Notre Dame were amazing, and I died a little ’cause I wanted to be there too. Someday, I’ll go back to Paris and I won’t be such a pansy and I’ll actually go to the top of Notre Dame, like Drew did. Twice.

I want to walk that street and shop 'til I drop.

My fear of heights really ruins my life. When we were in London, I couldn’t go to the tallest part of all the churches. Both times we were in London, I stopped at the first level and waited while everyone else ventured to the top to overlook the city from all of the beautiful churches. I panicked when we went to the top of the Arc de Triomphe. I didn’t go to the ledge because I immediately thought I would blow off and die. I did, however, fake it and took a cheesy picture at the top anyway.

CHEEEEEEEESE

I just really, really, really want to go back to Europe. I want to go all over and see all the sights! I want to see the things I’ve seen before and I want to see and experience new things! I love seeing Drew’s pictures and find myself living vicariously through his experiences. The weekend needs to hurry up and get here so he can travel some more and take more pictures and post them ASAP!

For now, though, I’ll leave you with this photo. We were hanging out in front of Buckingham Palace, and Mom sniped a picture of her two lovely children. Family vacations are awesome.

We were obviously really ready.

1.) I watched a few episodes of The West Wing on dvd today.

2.) These episodes were viewed with subtitles.

3.) I enjoy subtitles. I think it’s funny to take note of when the actors say exactly what the tv says they say. Actors talk a lot more than the tv says. I like that.

4.) It is still my belief that Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, that TV show from 2006 that aired on NBC for one season, should never have been canceled. I loved everything about it. I hate NBC for canceling it.

5.) I miss Matthew Perry. And not the Matthew Perry in 17 Again because that was an awkward, old-looking Matthew Perry. I refuse to accept that image of him as reality.

6.) Everyone must see Easy A, that new teen movie with Emma Stone and Penn Badgley that references The Scarlet Letter. It was hilarious and I pretty much loved everything about it. Go. See. It.

7.) My voice has returned from when I was sick last week. I no longer sound like I’m dying, nor do I sound like a man. Yay!

8.) I really, really want chinese food. It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve had chinese food.

9.) Drew’s in Germany. We dropped him off at the airport in Detroit last night. Mom cried.

Last week, I went with my mother to a furniture store.

We went to look for a maroon love seat for the study.

This new house is really becoming exciting. When all of this mess began, I was pretty psyched for her because it was kind of fun talking about all the fun things we would maybe have in this new family home. But then there were a lot of repetitive questions and I lost interest. And then I started to feel bitter because this was replacing our home. This brand spankin’ new house was going to make us have to get rid of the house I grew up in. And that made me sad. So I ignored all the new-house stuff. I became really irritated when conversations turned to all the “fun stuff happening with the house” because I really didn’t like this new-house stuff.

But the house is almost done. It has to be done by September 24 for the parade of homes. It’s gorgeous.  And now it’s super exciting for everyone.

So with everything coming together, we needed to find a maroon love seat for the study.  And we were going to just look at bedroom furniture for the room intended for Drew.

I was really, really helpful. Like when Mom asked me to go re-measure something because we forgot the dimensions, I went to the part of the store that had the dresser Mom was looking at for Drew’s blue room.  But then I saw this:

THAT BEAR IS WEARING A BASKET LIKE A BACKPACK. OF COURSE I WAS GOING TO WANT TO OWN THIS PIECE OF ART.

Hello! I LOVE BEARS! (And dinosaurs. But there were no backpack-wearing dinosaurs. Sad.)

So THEN I found THIS:

What a precious little bear face! I immediately wished that “my room” hadn’t been painted a perfect yellow color and that all my furniture and bedding wasn’t already decided upon. I wished I could change the design concept of “my room” to BEAR LAND.

And then I found THIS and knew that we had definitely made the wrong choice with the yellow.

DANCING, HAND-HOLDING BEARS. I was IN LOVE. How can you NOT love that?!!? It’s hilarious and precious! What an excellent conversation piece!! THIS IS ART!!!

I obviously was taking way longer than she had anticipated, so after a while, Mom came looking for me. I had been running around like a ninny, looking for all things bear-shaped/themed.

I found this gem when Mom found me:

It reminded me of the time I murdered one of God’s creatures. And Mom wondered what the fuck I was doing.

I told her I had a brand new design concept for any room of the house. I told her bears would look glorious in any room, or that we could spread them out throughout the house.  I told her that they would be great conversation starters and that if no one else would appreciate them, I would appreciate the bears enough for everyone on earth. Because I loved them.

But then she scolded me, reminded me I’m an adult and t0ok my phone away.  I followed behind her, dejected, as we made our way to the place where she paid for her maroon love seat and Drew’s bedroom furniture.

Looks like I did a lot more looking than she did. And the bears remain at the store.

I have the best Christmas Present ideas….!

It is always been my strategy in school to procrastinate. My strategy in life is to avoid. They’re essentially the same.

Second semester of my senior year of college, I let procrastination (and probably my avoidance behavior) get to a new level. I remember hating myself then more than any other semester because of the procrastination. What I learned from it, however, is that there is nothing I can’t do if I set my mind to it.

Every week in my womens’ studies class we had a reflection paper due. This reflection paper required critical thinking and (obviously) reflection on whatever piece of reading we were to have completed over the course of the week. It was to prepare us for discussion. Every week, it meant I had a book to read and deep thoughts to think.

I tease my brother that he doesn’t know how to balance having a social life, school/homework and an actual job because his school is screwy and makes them work three months and then go back to school for three months, and then go back to work, so on and so forth. This means he never EVER balances all three. I balanced all three while I was in college.

You probably shouldn't bother me. I'm obviously very busy and important.

My point is that I tend to have excellent time management skills. I am a freak about how I spend my time, who gets to control the time I have, and what I do with said time. So, the fact I procrastinate has nothing to do with me having poor time management skills. It’s a choice. I choose to wait to the last minute to do everything.

It was my choice to wait to begin reading my women’s studies reading material until the night before it was due. For example, it was my choice to start reading Glass Castle (Sweet Jesus, I hated that book!) at 11:30 pm (after I got home from work, made some dino nuggets, changed into sweat pants, took my contacts out and set up my “reading nest” in the corner of my room). It was my choice to stay up until 4:30 am hating my life until I finished the most absurd book I’ve probably ever read. It was also my choice to then sit myself down at my desk and pen a reflection paper filled with critical thinking and deep, refelctive thoughts. Just like it was my choice to start writing my 15+ page final research paper twelve hours before it was due.

I think it’s clear I make really good choices.

And even now, when I should be writing a paper for my HR class, here I am, writing this little love letter about procrastination to all of you delightful readers of my blog.

I guess what I wanted to tell you was, there must be something wrong with me. Or maybe this tendency to procrastinate means something, maybe it tells you something about me. Maybe it means I live for the drama. I crave the excitement. I can’t function without the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I need to hear that tiny voice in my head say, “Maybe you can’t do it! Maybe you suck, Katie! Maybe you won’t finish and you’ll fail the assignment and then have to drop out of school because you suck so much!” only so I can prove it wrong.

Either way, it’s how I work. And, really, the way I see it, it’s still pretty early that I can probably spit this paper out and be in bed by midnight watching Sleepless in Seattle.

Back to work I go.

What to write... what to write...?

I had a day off today. ‘Cause it’s Tuesday, and I usually have Tuesdays off.

Now that my mom’s house (the house I’ve lived in most of my life) is officially on the market, we’ve had a few showings so far. Today happened to be one of those days that we had a showing. It was to begin at 11 o’clock this morning. I was to do one last sweep of the house this morning and make sure everything was completely clean and everything was in its place.

I woke up and took a shower, then proceeded to get dressed. I picked up all the clothes from my floor and made my bed. It was while I was putting make up on that I realized that my vision was not right. I tried to ignore it; I didn’t want to think about what spotty vision might mean. I had experienced this before, a couple years ago, but wanted desperately not to acknowledge the possibility of what was coming.

Once I was dressed and ready, I still had some time before I needed to leave the house, so I did my once-over. I went through the bedrooms upstairs and turned the lights on and made sure Drew’s room didn’t smell like “sweaty boy” like it normally does while he’s home. Then I heard the doorbell ring.

Panic!

False alarm. It was Lenny, our creepy, toothless Orkin Man. WTF. I wanted to be like, Lenny, didn’t my mom tell you not to come here until later today? But I didn’t. Instead, I went back to my room and fucked around on twitter and checked Perez Hilton. Then he came upstairs, came in my room and handed me a sheet of paper. I shoved it in my desk drawer and looked out the window to watch him leave.

I then gathered my belongings and headed to Hobby Lobby.  I needed to get picture frames for a certain little nugget’s glamour shots. I probably shouldn’t have been driving, though, because my vision was still fucked and I was now starting to feel like I was either going to pass out or throw up.  My head was killing me. It was while I was clutching onto a shelf at Hobby Lobby that I admitted to myself that I was experiencing a migraine.  I was pissed, too, because I really haven’t had one in a while. I did not need this!! Especially when I had no choice but to be homeless!! Did the lights need to be so bright??

It had just turned 11 o’clock as I was walking out of Hobby Lobby. I wanted to knife the people in my house. Instead, I went to starbucks, where Althea, the starbucks lady who calls me Kate, was training a newbie and told him that I always, always, always get a caramel macchiatto and that I am a regular. At starbucks, I was a hot damn mess.  All of the comfy chairs were taken, and I wanted to knife the ladies who were sitting in them. Didn’t they know I needed to curl up and die on one of those chairs?! I sat at a table for about 7 minutes then decided I would just go be a homeless person and sleep in my car.

But I knew I didn’t really want to sleep in my car, especially in such a public place. That’s shady. And I was wearing a dress. Awkward. So, I got behind the wheel again and drove in the direction of home.  Those people were still at my house so I circled the block once and drove aimlessly through the neighborhood until 11:20, when I noticed that they were gone.  I parked my car in the garage, ran inside, and threw up. At least it wasn’t on the floor. Then I crawled in my mom’s bed and zonked out for a couple hours.

My phone went off and woke me up. I got some water and stayed in bed. I started watching Grey’s Anatomy, season 1. I’m almost done with it. Soooo productive!

Today kinda blew.

I have trouble with time.

I don’t understand it.

I’m confused by it.

I don’t understand daylight savings time. WTF is that about? WHY?! How can places just decide they will not partake in the confusion?! I don’t know about other states, but I know Indiana was one of those places to stick it to the man and say no! Although, I think I read that even they gave in.

Anyway, what I really mean is that I’m generally confused about the timing of things. I have trouble placing events in a timeline.

Not, like, recent events. Oh no, big, historical (?) events. I just can’t keep things straight.

Last Christmas, my family was discussing this very thing and it became clear to everyone that I’m an idiot.

I came up with the idea of negative time.

The way I see it, everything ties back to Jesus, and that’s confusing to me.

Last Wednesday, Drew called me to wish me a happy birthday. The phone call quickly turned into a quiz about time. It wasn’t until I had exhausted my list of events to place on my timeline did he even get the chance to say anything at all about my birthday.

When did the dinosaurs exist?!

Really?

Before or after Jesus?

*his soul dies a little bit* Before.

Negative time!

Yes, Katie, negative time. *soul dies a little more*

What about Christopher Columbus? Before or after Jesus?!

Seriously?

Drew! Tell me!

After.

What about the vikings!

Dark ages.

You know what I mean.

790s to 1066 AD.

That’s not negative time?

No.

What about cavemen?

Prehistoric. Very, very BC. Like 10,000 BC.

Like the movie?

Yes.

That means… before Jesus. Negative time.

Yes.

What about…. the movie Ice Age!? When was that? That’s negative time too?

Yes. Because cavemen show up in the very end of the third movie.

When we were speaking on the phone on my birthday, I heard chuckling. Then I heard a lot of chuckling. And that was when I knew that there was a small group listening in on our conversation. His fraternity brothers heard me sound like an idiot, asking for an explanation for shit everyone already understands.

But, the best part is, he still at least explains it. He still goes through the motions of trying to make me understand.  My brother is one of the good ones.