Here in Katie’s Head

Thursday, there were two ants.

Friday, there were seven. I smashed the first four, then saw two more walk across the spot where I’d just smashed two of their buddies. They must have smelled the blood, because they turned and ran. Not fast enough, mwah ha ha.

Today, I called my mom, knowing they tend to get ants in their kitchen every spring and she probably has good advice on how to get rid of them. She said, “mint oil,” and loaned me her can of Victor Posion-Free Ant & Roach Killer (4.0% mint oil, get it at the hardware store).

And then I came home and found two ants heading straight for my toothbrush and oh, it is so ON. And just like the can says, mint oil kills in seconds. I killed ants on the wall, on the window sill, above the sink, in the bathtub, and then I sprayed everywhere else because those little fuckers can’t get away with invading my fortress of solitude, my beloved bathroom sanctuary. Then I went outside and sprayed around the window where they came in.

I tried warning them. “There’s no food in here,” I said, “and there’s not even any food in the kitchen. Go back outside. If you stay here, I will smash you. And if you keep coming back, I will spray you with the first spray can I can find. It might be insecticide, or it might be mouse or Oust, but you’re not going to like it either way.”

Ants do not listen to reason. So now my bathroom smells minty fresh.

Just now, about eight hours after the initial slaughter, I saw another pair of ants wandering around the bathroom wall, but before I could reach for the spray can, I saw them freeze up and go into their death throes.

Mint oil rocks.

Posted: 10:40 pm · Category: Duplex · Comments: 1

I work with someone who once had lunch with Johnny Cash.

Posted: 9:10 pm · Category: Random · Comments: None

I got a google hit today from the search string “when good Katies go bad.”

My first reaction was a giggle, but then I started to think, you know, I’m sure there was a turning point. And after a few seconds I realized that there is no contest over exactly when I lost interest in being a good girl all the time.

From a diary entry written later that month:

I remember thinking, when he lit it, that he did it very skillfully, very believable for the part he was playing.

And I remembered that on the first night we met, he said that he “never smoked cigarettes.” Even then I didn’t believe him one hundred percent.

And I was looking down the street when he said, “Look at me, I’m being sexy here.”

My eyes flashed back to him.

He drew slowly on the cigarette, his head tilted to just the perfect angle, the perfect look in his eyes, and he was right.

He was sexy.

And right then, I remembered that we said we were just friends. And I remembered that I do not have relationships with men that are ever absolutely free of sexual tension, but I was usually good at keeping it from becoming a problem.

But in that moment, where I watched him carefully exhale, I didn’t want to keep it from becoming a problem. I wanted this problem.

Still, I didn’t kiss him until half an hour later.

(We’d gone to a costume party that night. Thumbing my nose at the theme of the party, I’d gone in drag. These day’s he’s the one cross-dressing. A shame, really. He looked stunning in his suit that night.)

And so, dear google user, that is the story of the moment when this good Katie went bad.

Posted: 7:50 pm · Category: Boys, Memories · Comments: None

So a couple months ago, I asked for makeup and grooming product favorites. Because I am a bad, lazy person, I haven’t tried out many suggestions. But I have worked some new things into my routine, and because a follow-up was requested, I thought I’d share my success stories.

Products Katie uses and does not hate, in order of application:

• Target’s knock-off of Neutrogena Deep Clean: Nice and gentle, applied in the middle of my morning shower. I was using Clean and Clear’s equivalent, which was tinglier. I think I like this one better, but it’s pretty much a draw.
• Schwarzkopf Professional OSiS Tex It “bodyfier” gel: ChaCha gave me a half-used bottle last time I got my hair cut. Will I spring for another bottle? Depends on how high the markup is at the salon. But I’ve gotten a bazillion compliments on my hair since I started using it.
• bareMinerals foundation: I was intrigued when Kate mentioned it. When I heard fabulous Eagle music writer Jill Cohan give it a glowing review, I put in an order. Yep, it’s great. Stays put all day, looks natural, doesn’t make my face hate me.
• Neutrogena Fresh Foaming Cleanser: Still using it. Good at cleaning, but daaaamn it dries my skin out.
• L’Oreal Nutrissime dry skin cream: And this re-moisturizes it. Mom got it for me for Christmas. (Side note: While searching for a product listing, it appears everything else L’Oreal makes is targeted at…not my generation. Hmm.) I’m happy with it, but I’m still open to suggestions for alternatives.

Still looking for a good mascara. My main complaint about my Great Lash mascara is that it tends to transform into an ashy smudge under my eyes over the course of the day. Is this a problem with cheap mascara in general? A friend recommended one from Clinique (not that I remember which one, and it appears they have eight different lines) that I might try because she says it actually stays put. And does anyone care to weigh in on waterproof vs. regular?

And a bonus, since Kati asked: I have tried a million bras and, for reasons of excess boobage, found many of them lacking. Just like diamonds, there are four Cs of bra quality — comfort, coverage, control and cuteness — and no bra is perfect on all four. The most comfortable, by far, was a Secret Embrace knock-off I got at Target recently. That whole seamless, synthetic thing is pretty damn cool.

Posted: 11:08 pm · Category: Consumerism, Flair · Comments: 3

Dear bathroom scale,

I am madly in love with you.

I know we’ve spent some time apart lately, but the daily weigh-ins were too frustrating. I’m glad we agreed to take things slow, and I think it’s really improved our relationship.

I’m almost disappointed because I finally accepted that I’d gone up a size, tossed out the old pants and bought a wardrobe of new pants. And now the new pants are too big. But this is what belts are for, right?

Imagine what I could do if I put actual effort into this.

Let’s meet up again next weekend.

Love,

Katie

Posted: 10:55 pm · Category: Letters · Comments: None

Hypothetical situation: Someone lends a book to you, saying you’d really enjoy it. For months, it sits on a shelf. Finally you crack it open. You read a chapter and a half. You know you should enjoy it, but it’s booooring.

So, keep reading incase it gets better? Or give up?

Posted: 9:24 am · Category: Books · Comments: 1

There have been nights where I realize that something’s got to change. It’s not that I’m unhappy, just that I could be happier. And so I blog what I’m thinking because maybe it’ll make me stick to my plans for self-improvement.

It hasn’t worked that well.

One night two and a half years ago, I was running around in a rainstorm and had a revelatory moment where I decided, damn it, I’m going to quick fucking around and get serious about something. I’d just spent a summer — no, let’s be honest, it was a whole year — doing stupid things, hanging around stupid boys and feeling guilty about too much of it.

I committed to change. I figured I’d take baby steps toward becoming the new and improved Katie. And I took one step, then another, and it was so gratifying to see myself actually abandoning bad habits and adopting better ones. I felt good.

And then I stopped taking forward steps. I spent all my time congratulating myself for making that first bit of progress, and I never really identified what the next few steps should be.

I stagnated. I stopped writing almost completely. It’s frustrating for me because I kept diaries since middle school, and I find it really helpful to read back through them — cringing most of the time — and see how I’ve changed. But for two years, I have nothing. No record of what I was thinking, what I was feeling, what I was worrying about, what I was passionate about. It’s all just a blur of school, work and 100% of my free time spent with my boyfriend. My memory is faulty and I regret not keeping a written record.

Last fall, I had another of those revelatory moments. I got frustrated about the lack of control I had over recent events in my life. I was tired of feeling like a pawn and embarrassed that I left myself be manipulated. And once again, I decided I needed to change.

I needed to quit thinking that I’m an adult while acting like a kid. I was suddenly living alone in an apartment that’s too big for me, saddled with new responsibilities and struggling to find meaning in My First Real Job.

And this time, I did a better job of identifying what baby steps I needed to take. And it’s only in the past week that I’ve felt any real progress. But now I look in the mirror and I see someone who had a shred of a clue — more than I did last week. And I think I look healthier, too.

I take a multivitamin every day so my hair doesn’t fall out when I’m stressed. I take Claritin every day so I can actually breathe — I don’t remember the last time I could breathe for a week straight. I put my laundry away instead of getting dressed out of the laundry basket. I don’t let ten thousand Diet Coke cans pile up in the sink. I put the car in the garage every night so that it doesn’t get covered in bird shit. I wash my dishes. I file everything in the filing cabinet. I keep my recyclables well-organized, and I will eventually — maybe tomorrow! — take my massive stockpile to the recycling center with the nice hippie volunteers. I intend to put all $353 of my federal tax refund into savings. I buy sugar-free popsicles instead of Bunny Tracks ice cream. I call ChaCha and make an appointment when I get the urge to take the scissors to my hair, and I listen to ChaCha’s advice and use the hair goop she gave me. And when I come home after dark and I walk up the driveway, I look up at the sky and the fact that I can see any stars at all from the city feels comforting every time.

The fact that all these small things seem like progress undoubtedly says something. But when I’m the only living soul who sees what the inside of my house looks like, I tend to slack off big time. And because the clutter in my house tends to be a reflection of the clutter in my head, the fact that there are no dishes in the sink right now means I’m doing okay.

Yeah, I’m doing okay.

Posted: 11:46 pm · Category: Deep Thoughts · Comments: None