Old Potato Road.

VENUS. If you still think Libby is an angel, think again. Since...

Thu, 04 Aug 2011 12:17:00 -0400

VENUS.

If you still think Libby is an angel, think again. Since I looked up to my big older sister I’d do most anything she’d tell me to as long as she’d say “this is cool Bird.” After chasing our pet parakeets AM & FM around the house, Libby and I found ourselves in the kitchen listening to the radio through our house intercom system. The song “I’m your Venus” by Bananarama came on and we started to sing. Lil angel Libby flapped her mischievous wings and begins to sing over the music and teach me the “real” words to the song.

Picture it. Driving in a car with family friends and Bananarama comes on the radio. With all my gusto I sing along. ”I’m your PENIS, I’m your FIRE, my VAGINA!!” Seems I was told the wrong words. Watch out Libby. I know where you live.

PRIVATE PROPERTY. After trespassing on private property in...

Sun, 03 Jul 2011 14:31:00 -0400

PRIVATE PROPERTY.

After trespassing on private property in search of a waterfall we were kindly asked to leave. I proceed to speak to the elderly man asking for more splashy options near by. Apparently due to the pleasant demeanor and charming rhetoric in which I spoke, the gentleman allowed us to stay put.

We decide to continue our intrusive adventures. Upon checking in at our precious inn in Hudson, NY, which looked like the byproduct should the Ace Hotel have sex with a seaside cottage in Nantucket, Andy the loquacious inn keeper mentions in passing he has a boat. He had no idea that he’d open pandora’s box with this statement. Whilst sunning on the rocks below our glorious waterfall we proceed to text Andy and invite ourselves on the boat. I believe Jess’ text read “You going out on the boat? We have Rosé!”. Within minutes we had secured at 7:30 pick up at the dock.

The 4 of us gals are greeted by a gorgeous cruiser boat peppered with 4 nautical gay men who welcomed us with wine, cheese and most importantly dirty Arnold Palmers! The next couple hours consisted of great story telling and a surreal sunset. Yesterday was one of those days where the phrase “best day ever” resonated throughout the crew. I sat at the tip of the front of the boat, dirty Arnold in hand and inhaled the simplicity of the moment and the humor of its inception.

30 YEARS AWESOME. Today marks my 30th year of existence. I had...

Fri, 24 Jun 2011 19:45:53 -0400

30 YEARS AWESOME.

Today marks my 30th year of existence. I had someone tell me the other day that I should be thrilled to turn 30. That I should look around at my success in career and be proud of where I am. My response was simple. I told her I was proud of who I am surrounded by. I’m proud of all the unique characters that have come into my life and shaped me for the better. If I didn’t have the people all else would be a wash.

So to ALL of you out there that have laughed with me, cried with me, tried to understand why I was laughing at you or just took a stroll with me, to you I say thank you. Thank you for making my story great. Thank you for loving me well and continually inspiring me to be, me. You’ve bettered my adventure.

THE WASP. I think it’s important to make even the most...

Thu, 23 Jun 2011 16:49:00 -0400

THE WASP.

I think it’s important to make even the most simple of tasks entertaining. This approach, however, has gotten me in a pickle or two.

Last night I was hanging at my apartment with Jess, cracking up as usual. We have been trying to make 4th of July plans so we were looking at flights and trains. Anything to get out of the city! As we were looking at flights Jess goes, “remember that time you booked my flight to Austin and….” Before she could finish her sentence I erupted in laughter, burying my head in the couch.

I booked a bunch of folks flights from NYC to Austin for a party I threw during ACL. I had totally forgotten that I thought it’d be funny to give people strange middle names on their plane tickets. Jess went from plain ole Jess Rotter to Jess “The Wasp” Rotter. Poor Jess had to change her flight but there were, uhh humm, complications with the names matching up!! Opppzzzzzzzz.

KISSY FACE. Jared Fuson and I were inseparable in college. We...

Wed, 22 Jun 2011 18:49:00 -0400

KISSY FACE.

Jared Fuson and I were inseparable in college. We could make anything fun. Seriously. Anything. We’d ride our bikes to campus each day but along the way we’d play bicycle tag which resulted in me on my side on some surface with my bike on top of me. Not once did I ever win. Damn those strong thighs he has!

The two of us were both Communication Majors at Texas A&M and purposely made sure we had a lot of classes together. We’d always plant ourselves in seats on day 1 and then make sure we claimed those seats for the rest of the semester. One class we took was Rhetoric of Western Thought taught by the incredible Dr. Rigsby. For this particular class Jared and our other 3 guys friends all made claim to the front row with the 2 of us being next to each other.

Playfulness is one of the best attributes in the world. Jared and I both have an abundance of this particular trait. I’m not sure what sparked it but we’d sit on the front row in a class of 300 and pretend to almost kiss each class. In the middle of the lecture he’d lean in and we’d be so close we could feel each others breath then right when the magical moment would happen we’d turn our heads and casually go back to taking notes.

What was brilliant about this endeavor was that by the end of the semester we could hear people around us mutter things like: ”come on already!”, “dammit!”, “GAH!!” and things of the sort. I can’t even image what they would have done if we’d locked lips. A resounding gong perhaps.

BASKET TOSS. Our Freshman Cheerleading squad for Bryan High...

Tue, 21 Jun 2011 19:35:00 -0400

BASKET TOSS.

Our Freshman Cheerleading squad for Bryan High consisted of 20 girls with 2 different squads of 10. There were 3 large Junior Highs that all merged our Freshman year so even with a competitive tryout process they narrowed us down to 20.

One of my best pals, Maureen Locus, was the best tumbler on the squad. She was also the best flyer. If you don’t know who the “flyer” is, it’s the person you throw around. We would do back flip basket tosses with her at all the football games. People told us they were illegal for High School squads. We just shot them the middle finger.

They kept the 2 squads separate for the most part but one day we decide to merge during practice. We look at little Reen and wonder about how high we could throw her if ALL of us chunked her in the air. She already got mad air. We wanted more. Cheerleaders are ambitious in mind and spirit. Ha, spirit. The 19 of us link up all of our arms with Maureen in the middle. Then we count it out: one, two, down up, down up and CHUNK the hell out of Reen. She goes flying into the air. She was astonishingly high. We were all so amazed by her altitude that we forgot that our homegirl would be coming down.

So, you have 19 cheerleaders tossing a girl into oblivion and 1 cheerleader ruminating about her return from oblivion. You would have thought we would have discussed the dismount but seems it slipped our mind. Luckily at the last minute I slid my body underneath her but pretty sure I only saved her ponytail.

Gives a whole new meaning to the song “Spirit in the Sky”!!

GUINEA PIG. I was so excited to finally be a Sophomore in...

Mon, 20 Jun 2011 20:30:00 -0400

GUINEA PIG.

I was so excited to finally be a Sophomore in college and done with my 1st Rush. Those things are beasts I tell ya. During Rush I spotted who I wanted to be my little sister and was determined to coax Mindy Popelka into our all-star cast of a Chi Omega Family.

During the Big Sis/Lil Sis unveiling week there are gifts you leave for your Lil each day at the Chi-O house for them to pick up with clues to who you are. Now, if you know me, you know my clues were things like: I have webbed toes or I sleep with a stuffed animal horse named Gregory. Things of that bizarre nature.

Each day had a theme to where you spelt out Chi-O by the end of the week. This was the “I” day meaning Insignia where you’d give a gift to your Lil that had the Chi Omega letters on it. I thought long and hard about what I wanted to get Mindy, grabbed the keys to my car and headed for the pet store. I proceed to the counter and motion to the zoo keeper wannabe that I’d like a Guinea Pig. A plump one. I am handed a box with holes and take this new critter, whom I named Jobelle (after one of our founders), back to the Chi-O house to get fitted for it’s outfit.

In an effort to keep with the rules and give an Insignia gift, I made Jobelle a cape that the Chi Omega letters on it. In addition, I decorated an aquarium complete with shot block and beer bong for her to rest her weary head. Just kidding, just kidding. But it did have pretty sorority girl drawings around it. Before I placed my gift downstairs I decided to see what the rascal was capable of. Castle went to one end of the hallway upstairs and I was at the other far end. Then we’d let Jobelle go and she’d come running with her tiny cape flapping in the wind. It was glorious.

After racing Jobelle up and down the hallway, we place her in the gifting area and sit in the back staircase waiting for Mindy to arrive and hear her reaction when she finds a guinea pig with a cape and a big smile. We get word Mindy’s arrived and all gather in the back hallway to see if we can hear her reaction when all of a sudden she let’s that awesome laugh lose and all we can hear is ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Then she proceeds directly to my room only to find a gaggle of us all in the hallway rolling with laughter. I had nothing to say because I was paralyzed with laughter.

The other sweet girls were leaving the Chi-O house with cute hoodies, baskets filled with candy and fun decorative dorm stuff. Poor Mindy was carrying an aquarium with a caped Guinea Pig that answered to the name Jobelle. Welcome to the family!

ROAD TRIP GAMES. I love road trips. Currently I’m sitting...

Mon, 20 Jun 2011 00:23:00 -0400

ROAD TRIP GAMES.

I love road trips. Currently I’m sitting in a window at my fave Brooklyn coffee spot waiting on my ride to head upstate with 3 of my guy friends. As I’m about to embark on our day trip out of the city I started thinking about some of the unforgettable times I had on High School road trips.

Out of town games for both cheerleading and softball were beyond entertaining. This particular story involves a softball road trip. I played center field and my buddy Beth Lebow played left field. We were 2 peas in a pod. Sometimes if someone would hit a line drive to the outfield we’d giggle our way to the fences. We were really good, don’t get me wrong, we were just silly in the process. We kept ourselves entertained.

My bud Beth was always up for a challenge or prank. Anytime, anywhere. On this particular day we come up with a game to pass the time. Coach Williamson, who we called Judy Booty, would always sit at the very front of the bus. Beth and I being jokesters always found ourselves nestled in the back of the yellow dog. The object of the game was to tag Judy Booty’s head by crawling across the tops of all the seats and back before the other.

So someone, whom I presume to be Aimee Petroski or Lyndsey Bond, say GO and Beth and I start flying across the seats. We womp ole Judy Booty across the head and scurry back on the tops of the seats as if we thought we’d be undetected.

I don’t know what we were thinking essentially slapping our coach access the head but man do I have a good laugh talking about it now. It’s no wonder Beth and I were in trouble as much as we were. Didn’t matter how much we got yelled at, we always found humor in the adventure and of course built new road trip games.

JOKES! I think I’m pretty damn crafty. Even when whatever...

Fri, 17 Jun 2011 13:34:00 -0400

JOKES!

I think I’m pretty damn crafty. Even when whatever I’ve created doesn’t make sense to anyone else, I high five myself and am content with my simple and self-preserved LOL.

In elementary school you could request to tell jokes over the school intercom. Given my impeccable speech communication skills in the 4th grade I proceed to the front office to present my joke to the rest of the Sam Houston Ravens. It must be noted that most kids read jokes from a book or from a Bazooka bubble wrapper. Not me. No way. I write my own material.

I clear my tiny lil throat and begin. “Good Morning Ravens!! Have I got a joke for you today. Why are racquetballs sad? (insert dramatic pause) Because they get hit around a lot!!”

The school receptionist kindly takes the mic away from me (probably wondering if I should see the school counselor) as the echo of my twig leg giggling self sauntered down the carpeted hallway. I still think it’s funny, chuckling at my desk. It should be noted there was another answer: Because they’re BLUE! Maybe I should have gone with that.

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Tue, 14 Jun 2011 18:49:00 -0400

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30TH BDAY PARTY TONIGHT.

It’s been a week since my last post. I have an explanation. I really do. In the last week I was in 4 states and 1 country: San Antonio, Atlanta, Miami, New York and Barbados. With that said, in between security lines and fetal positions on planes I had little time for, me. Tonight Heidi, Karli, Maryclaire and myself from Cornerstone (work) are celebrating our 30th bday. All 4 of us turn 30 in June. Super random. Super awesome. We have quite the playlist that involves many-a-jam that would get the pelvis in motion just like back at the Victory Dances at Bryan High School. To all of you who don’t live here, know I wish you were. Proud of the people I have in my life.

Wish me and my liver luck tonight…

BIG BOI ATLANTA. So I missed my post yesterday, BUT I’ll...

Tue, 07 Jun 2011 19:32:08 -0400

BIG BOI ATLANTA.

So I missed my post yesterday, BUT I’ll still make sure I have 30 posts in 30 days. If you’re wondering why I so flippantly disregarded my diligent blogging it’d be because yesterday I threw a party for Big Boi (of Outkast for some of you) in his home town of Atlanta. I love Atlanta. I really do. However, throwing a party for a local icon in their own home market is a bit of a, well, I’ll call it treat.

Green Lantern was DJing and killed it on the turntables. Big Boi ended up getting on stage with Pill and Killer Mike for the last two songs (Kryptonite) with Swift and some of the other crew as well on stage. The part in Kryptonite when it shouts out being from the A, well at that part you would have thought I was from The A due to my leverage in which I was bouncing and taking pride in my “city”. Then Big took the mic and sang “Mrs. Jackson” on his own in the VIP area for another song.

My night ended at Big Boi’s studio, Stankonia, hanging around with everyone and listening to Killer Mike spit lyrics as he’d get passionate at this or that topic. I hope if you’re reading this, you know me well enough to know that I stand in awe of moments like this. My job augments this adventure of my life and I am grateful to build my story through experiences like last night.

GIRAFFES. Man. Nothing compares to quality time with the family....

Sun, 05 Jun 2011 22:28:00 -0400

GIRAFFES.

Man. Nothing compares to quality time with the family. This weekend I went to San Antonio for my nephew Wortham’s 3rd birthday. Each night ended with the fam sitting in the backyard smoking cigars, sipping on watermelon martinis and shooting bebe guns.

All this time with my family reminded me of how much I love them. Then reminded me of a time my dad wanted to tell me how much he loved me on Valentines day with the perfect card.

I’m sitting in the kitchen eating my brown sugar laced oatmeal when my dad, Papa, delivers my Valentine’s card. I open up my card to 2 giraffes hugging and the question posed “Do I love you?”. Then I opened up the card to read, “you bet giraffes I do!!”

Alright, now say that outloud and you’ll realize how damn funny that is. I’ll never forget reading to every teacher in the 5th grade with the utmost pride! Never been so thrilled to be a Youngkin.

ANACONDA, MONTANA. Being the youngest child you got convinced it...

Sun, 05 Jun 2011 00:03:00 -0400

ANACONDA, MONTANA.

Being the youngest child you got convinced it was cool to do a lot of things that were far from being cool. Things like turning out the lights upstairs because you’re the fastest or taking out the trash because it’s fun.

My dad was the President of the Former Students Association for Texas A&M and they had their annual meeting. This year it was in Colorado Springs at the Broadmoar. While on our trip we my dad notices a killer deal on Thrifty and decides to do an impromptu road trip. While on the road trip with my family we put about 1,500 miles on our poor Taurus with Georgia license plates. Honestly, if that car could talk I bet it would have said “no more bitches, stop this car! I want to go home!”

On this trip I get convinced it’s fun to pump gas and wash the windows on the car. We are in Anaconda, Montana and pull over at gas station to fill up the tank and stock up in Frito’s, Wackey Wafers and Gatorade. Well, that was my shopping list at least. I get out and put the pump in the gas tank and walk around to start cleaning the windows. When the fam is wandering back from the convenient store a random gust of wind rustles up a plastic bag and it heads for me like a freight train. As I put down the driver side wiper, this plastic bag wraps around my face and renders me helpless.

More than having my face encased by a filthy discarded trash bag, my pride was in the gutters as my family collapsed in laughter at my near suffocating experience. Even tonight as we sit in my sister’s backyard in San Antonio, everyone is cackling about how scared I looked having this bag wrapped around my face and how great of a moment it was for them. I guess, in the end, it was worth it to see my dad still lauging that hard.

PET MY RABBIT. Hard to top sitting in a back yard in Texas...

Fri, 03 Jun 2011 23:21:00 -0400

PET MY RABBIT.

Hard to top sitting in a back yard in Texas sipping on beers with one of your best friends. Today I flew into San Antonio and embraced the warm air with a big ole smile. After tooling around doing errands for my nephew Wortham’s 3rd birthday we come back to Libby’s house to nibble our Chick-Fil-A. My dearest from Austin, Lindsey, stops by to greet us with a six pack of Sol’s.

After sitting in the backyard for a bit catching up on this or that we start to reflect on some of our silliest times. You see, when I 1st moved to Austin I didn’t know anyone. All of my friends from college went to Dallas. At night when I’d go home I’d watch Bridgette Jones Diary when she sings “All By Myself” and chug a glass of wine. In order to make friends at GSD&M I’d prank call people I thought looked fun, chuckle a bit, then go introduce myself. Figured I had a 70/30 chance of making a friend. I’m just that good at prank calls.

I’ll return to this story at another time, but it should be noted that out of one of my prank calls emerged one of my best pal Lindsey. She and I became quite the package at GSD&M. One time we decided to transform our office into a ginger bread house and made the rest of the department look like the Grinch threw up on Christmas.

Given our craftiness, we got asked to plan the annual GSD&M Haunted House. After getting decked out in our garb we head to the newly transformed parking garage and take place in our scary land. An elementary school comes through first, we have fun and send them on their way. Now is the time when our company comes through.

Linz and I looked at each other and know we need to step up our game. We were already in crazy attire with scary ass make-up on so knew we had to do something special to enhance the spook. We found this odd jack rabbit in someone’s office, grab it and know a plan would soon emerge.

I take refuge under this table in one of the bends of the haunted house and Linz sits above in a chair. She then lures people over to the table by requesting they “pet her rabbit”. At just the time they come over to pet the wretched piece of taxidermy I reach out from below the table and grab their ankles. Frankly I scared the hell out of a ton of our co-workers.

The last bit of the office roles through and I hear Lindsey do her bit and pop out to grab the ankles of whomever was standing there. This time it happened to be one of the principals of our company who screamed SHIT, followed by a few other choice words, and ran away. I honestly didn’t know what to do, so just hid back under table leaving Lindsey above stroking the stuffed Jack Rabbit hoping for the best.

DON’T WORRY, BE HAPPY. Mrs. Thurston looks up from her...

Thu, 02 Jun 2011 18:51:22 -0400

DON’T WORRY, BE HAPPY.

Mrs. Thurston looks up from her desk and announces 4th grade talent show at Sam Houston Elementary. This talent show always happened at the end of the school year. I crunch a Smartie between my teeth and begin to dream about a room quaking with applause from my marvelous performance. Now I just need an idea.

I call a meeting with my best buds Matthew Schlabach, who taught me all things Oregon Trail, and Josh Martin who was cute and from Michigan. The boys and I meet up and devise a master plan that will bring down the house, or should I say carpeted cafeteria.

A group of girls complete a choreographed routine and now it’s our turn to take the stage. We cue music, uh humm press Play, and begin. What we decided to do was lip sync to Bobby McFerrin’s “Don’t Worry, Be Happy”. Josh and Matthew were dressed in tropical garb, looking ever so Tommy Bahama, singing along to the jam behind their wayfarers. I had a special role. When it came time for the “ohhhh, ohhh oh ohhhhh-oooo” portion of the song I stepped out dressed like a wolf with macaroni teeth, tilted my head back and howled at the ceiling.

Sometimes I wonder where I come up with these things. Maybe it was all so I could write about it all these years later. It should be noted, we got asked back for the 5th grade talent show to do another rendition. Don’t mess with my macaroni smile!

WIBBY, NOOOOOO!! If you know my mom and were asked to describe...

Wed, 01 Jun 2011 19:07:00 -0400

WIBBY, NOOOOOO!!

If you know my mom and were asked to describe her a typical word that seems to surface is “fancy” and that she is. She’s a true southern belle with hollywood taste! Mom, cloaked in a vintage white mink coat, picked Libby and I up from the ill named Check-A-Child which was elegantly place in a strip mall, sandwiched between Blockbuster and The Radio Shack. The only redeeming quality to this place was that I could watch “The Never Ending Story” on repeat in the theatre room.

Lib and I jubilantly leave Check-A-Child and hop in my Mom’s Cadillac. Since I’m not quite a big kid yet, Mom straps me into my car seat and buckles in Libby next to me in the back seat. We proceed to start driving and it seems that while I was gazing out of the window making shapes of the clouds my sister got bored. All of a sudden Libby started sticking boogers on me. Boogers I say. Because I was strapped into my car seat she’d place them in hard to reach spots so I couldn’t get them off. She keeps on placing them on my arm and I start to mutter “Wibby, nooooooo!! Gwoss!!” in my sweet Katie Bird lisp.

If you’re reading this thinking “that’s so not Libby Youngkin, that’s something Katie would do,” well now you might just think of all my antics as retaliation! Libby continues to place her nasty nose treats on me and finally it pushes me over the edge. My cloud shapes have disappeared and here I was gagging in my death trap of a car seat. Just like in Jenga she had to see if 1 more booger would topple me. To her victory it did and I threw up all over the Cadillac and spritzed a bit of my Mom’s mink coat.

Poor Marilyn was out on our carport cleaning up my Animal Cracker soaked vomit out of our Cadillac as Libby sucked on her juice box in victory. At least ole Marilyn looked good doing it in that mink coat.

SKATE OR DIE There was a fire on the L Train this morning so the...

Tue, 31 May 2011 18:38:00 -0400

SKATE OR DIE

There was a fire on the L Train this morning so the hoards of plaid clad and peasant dressed folk had to figure alternative means to get to the city. 2 different co-workers alerted me to the incident so I’d spare myself from attempting a ride from Bedford Ave in Brooklyn. I wasn’t going to let this mishap squelch what was a nice long weekend. I go into the storage unit in our apt, grab my skateboard, pat Stella on the head and tell her to DREAM BIG (this really happens each day) and skate on over to Bakeri to get my morning Iced Soy Latte.

Soy Latte in hand I throw my preppy tote bag with navy ticking stripe over my shoulder and before hitting the pavement I put on Kelly Rowland’s new song “Motivation”. This was a tricky song choice because where it pumps me up, it also elicits the urge for slow gyrating moves. The kind my parents pointed out at Victory Dances in High School that were “nasty”. Regardless, I love it and skated about 1/2 a mile to the next train in Brooklyn. A lovely simple moment with me and my freshly straightened hair rolling through the streets of Brooklyn.

This moment reminded me of my skateboard club, Skate or Die, that met in my attic growing up. We each had a beam of wood with our names on it and a 2 nails to support the weight of our skateboards to showcase during our meetings. Most of the meetings consisted of us sitting down with our extremely intelligent next door neighbors, The Schlabach’s, who would sketch out our next ramp. Essentially we’d plan out my next broken bone.

Probably my favorite activity that arose from skateboarding was when we’d get a wardrobe box, lay it down on the board and squish 2 of us inside. Then the person at the top of our hill would push you as hard as they could and basically you’d just roll down Birchcrest Lane until you crashed. Maybe not the brightest idea, but it sure was fun.

Funny that now at almost 30 years old, I still love the feeling of just puttering around on my skateboard without a care in the world. Well, not caring about anything besides the infamous New York City pot holes.

PAPER AIRPLANE. Recess was clearly my favorite time of day. As...

Mon, 30 May 2011 23:51:00 -0400

PAPER AIRPLANE.

Recess was clearly my favorite time of day. As 4th graders we loved our time to frolic about in our pebble saturated playground at Sam Houston Elementary. It should come to no surprise that a majority of my time on the playground was spent hangin with the boys. Often we’d simply swing on the swings and play the game “fling it” that I made up. Fling it consisted of swinging with all your might then flinging your shoe into the atmosphere and measuring whose shoe went the furthest. Some may call this shot put. They’d be wrong. It’s Fling It.

One day we all started making paper airplanes during English class. During class we pass a note involving lots of “circle yes or no” type of agreements if you were in for a recess of paper airplane contests. Clearly, we were all IN.

My boyfriend Shane Scofield, who looked just like Zack Morris, had taught me everything I should know about paper airplanes. If I’m truly honest with my 4th grade self, I’d admit that besides him being my 1st kiss he was a wizard at all things paper airplane.

We head to the playground during recess and all get our airplanes de paper ready. One after another we all throw our bits of paper formed into the shape of a plane into the wind, or should I say “wind”. Then my cutie of a 4th grade boyfriend and his sexy lil Zack Morris self is up for his turn to chunk his plane. Shane throws his plane into the air and out of no where the most perfect wind wraps it’s comforting breeze around the paper airplane and sails it over the playground, across the street and above the trees until it was no more.

If only you could imagine this magical moment. Shane was a hero that day. As we watched his paper airplane soar off into the wild during recess we all hooted and hollered in pure jubilation for what seemed to be a miracle in that very moment. We watched a paper airplane take flight that day, and like the airplane so did the augmentation of my dreams. Anything is possible.

There is a lot to be said about the power of stillness. The...

Sun, 29 May 2011 21:49:00 -0400

There is a lot to be said about the power of stillness. The much needed redemption that it brings no matter the extent of its solace. Today I went off alone in Piermont, NY to have some simple alone time. I laid on the bench and as I watched the families unpack their picnic baskets and old ladies chat about who’s recipe was better, I couldn’t help but to be omnipresent in that moment. I wished to be no where else in the world.

After much observation I turned the focus inward. As I laid on that bench listening to Balmorea I somehow drifted into the land of 1,000 Ramona Quimby’s, Punky Brewsters and Magic School buses. The land where all of my hopes and dreams are stored. Moments like today are life saving for this disheveled life I lead. It’s as if I was on a pivot doing a full 360 degree rotation with my sole mission being gratitude. Gratitude for the life and opportunities I’ve been given. Gratitude for the people in my life who share this wild ride with me.

I always wrestle with the idea of home being so far away from my family up here. Days like today reiterate that home is where you invest yourself. And although this home may not come with Papa’s homemade pancakes, I see home in so many of the people around me and for that I am beyond appreciative.

My life, my story, is better because of the other characters in it.

THE BIRD. Often I’ll be sitting in my office on 23rd and...

Sat, 28 May 2011 22:45:00 -0400

THE BIRD.

Often I’ll be sitting in my office on 23rd and 6th in NYC and our fiesty receptionist will patch thru an important call. These “important” calls most often revolve around my mom inquiring about my marital status and biological clock.

Recently a couple friends at work overheard a different conversation. I had called up my dad, whom I call Papa, and asked him about a recipe. This being the catalyst to him on speaker so I could jot down these culinary notes whilst ole Billy Jack shared his East Texas cookage and referred to me as Bird. My friends asked why and, well I told them a lot of people call me Bird from home but most don’t know why.

Here is the true and simple facts for the birth of The Bird: My Aunt Nancy, who isn’t really my Aunt at all, used to wish my parents luck at surviving each day with their wild child. When I was learning how to crawl I actually skipped crawling and just went straight for the crab walk. I mean if you want the hottie from Mother’s day Out, you need more than a romper and an awesome pacie! Then from feaux crawling I went on to straight up walking and meandering about at 9 months old. My mom said it creeped her out to see such a little child walking about so confidently that she’ d force me down into a crawl. Clearly, should you know me well, I would take this expeditious route of movement and use it to my advantage. My Aunt Nancy used to say, “Trying to catch Katie is like trying to catch a damn hummingbird!!”. And thus, the birth of a nickname. After that my persona just stuck from eating like a bird, running like bird to simply having bird like legs. Then, somehow, I may or not had personalized license plates that said: KT Bird

To many, I’ll never be Katie, just simply Bird.