• kathleen
      • hello Kathleen
      • Username: kathleen
      • In response to: "What do you do on the side?" Crack. And knitting. Don't forget about the knitting.
  • kathleen's latest answers
    • I don't know how the answer could be anything but My Girl.

      • The hardest part about having a cold is knowing that you have one. The constant sinus pain, plus the added bonus of rusty daggers jabbing you in your throat when you swallow are kind of hard to put aside.
        Much of the sick time on the couch is spent in a Nyquil-induced coma, but for the two or three hours between naps, there is no greater joy than being sucked into a movie so hard that you forget about the Alaska Snow Crab that bit your inner ear.

        My Girl is the perfect movie for get sucked into. The elements are all there: humor, drama, Nixon jokes and a plot easy enough to follow when the decongestants leave you unable to understand TLC's A Wedding Story.
        If you get lucky enough, you will cry a little at the "He was supposed to be an acrobat" part, and it will loosen up your phlegm a little.

      • answered by kathleen on 02/10/2009
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    • Pooping in a resort is much more gratifying.

      • I'm living in a tacky apartment, temporarily, so I am presently without a favorite room. In the past, however, I have loved strictly bathrooms.
        The shiny porcelain, mixed with the fresh scents of co-mingling lotions and washes, feels amazing.
        I love bathrooms almost obsessively. Everwhere I go, I encounter a new bathroom. An interesting facet, a clever soap dish, whatever it is, I will stare at it for hours, and love the owner a little bit more for having it. In fact, I probably love you for whats in your bathroom.
        I love them the most when they are clean, with uniformly stacked towels in the closet. I love them when they are steamy; a temporary spa or a rainforest.
        Bathrooms, when properly done, are a resort.

      • answered by kathleen on 02/06/2009
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    • Because that 0.7 GPA increase comes up all the time in conversation.

      • On the evening after my first day of university classes, I read chapter one of my Introduction to English Literature textbook. I did not read a college textbook again until my final year.
        In retrospect, I should not have graduated.

        University textbooks -- especially introductory books -- are almost always boring. The straightforward information style, coupled with the extra-formal writing style of professionals never caught my attention. Each semester, I would open my textbooks, breathe in their new book smell, and fall asleep.
        To make up for this lack of information, I attended every class. I dutifully took notes and asked questions. When major exams or papers came up, I mastered skimming. My grades kept up and I naively assumed that I was "one of those people" who would go through university without really reading.
        It lasted until my final year, when, in a moment wreaking of Alanis Morrisette-style irony, I discovered that I should probably read the textbook for the 100-level class I was taking electively. The next day, my professor's lecture was never more interesting.
        "I already know this," I thought to myself as she lectured. "I. AM. A. GENIUS." I remember looking about the classroom, mocking the freshmen around me. A bunch of idiots, they were.
        My grades went up, but more importantly, my interest went up. As it turned out, some of the books in my other classes were fascinating.
        I still have the books about Eva Peron, wind turbines and Martha Gellhorn from that semester.

      • answered by kathleen on 01/31/2009
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    • Matching furniture factors into every scenario.

      • I have disappointed many younger versions of myself by not yet being an adult. Young Kathleen envisioned herself at this age to be a tall, well dressed, elegant, sophisticated intellectual. With her own pony. And a pool.
        Teenage Kathleen pictured herself to be married, or at least engaged. Her fiance must be a tall, dark and handsome intellectual whose six-figure salary (minimum) would allow her to forgo the shackles of employment and volunteer with Latin American orphans. (Also: daily blowouts).
        The engagement itself was an elaborate affair, outdoing every engagement on the former version of TLC's "A Wedding Story". An exact scenario was never defined, but all possibilities were very public, romantic affairs that left all witnesses teary-eyed and jealous. ESPECIALLY JEALOUS.
        College Kathleen realized that she may never be an adult. Living four hours from home and struggling to remember to buy garbage bags, her "adult age" was a target somewhere in the six months after graduation. In this time, she would acquire a high-powered position in a large company, wear glamorous clothing, and have an apartment with shiny, lacquered floors.
        Present-day Kathleen disappoints each of her former selves in some way. Despite efforts, I have barely surpassed five-feet, and my wardrobe has far too many pieces from Gap Kids to be considered at all sophisticated. Though I am in a long-term relationship, I am neither married, nor engaged. Weekly blowouts and selfless orphan-saving are still desired, but completely out of the question. My floors are generally covered in pet hair.
        Yes, modern-day Kathleen has her own version of when adulthood will come. When I can go through an entire day without feeling like I am an impostor in meetings, the grocery store, buying INSURANCE forgodssake, then I will be an adult.

      • answered by kathleen on 01/24/2009
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