Don't taunt the cranes

Anyone remember this post o' mine?

I was joking because hahaha there's just no way this could happen twice. HAHA! Uh, yeah, turn on MSNBC. It crashed into the luxury building next door to me. 50 feet from my front door! 50 feet! My mom in Kentucky saw my apartment from News Chopper 4.

The whole building shook with such an epic force I thought there was no way it could be anything man-made. To be every clichéd witness ever: It sounded like an earthquake. The rumbling went on for maybe 15 seconds. The sirens started almost immediately after. I wondered what the hell fault line I lived on and where my nearest emergency shelter was. Do I own gauze? Should I flee with my own canned goods? Would I be asked to give blood? I DON'T LIKE GIVING BLOOD! IT MAKES ME QUEASY! DON'T TAKE MY BLOOD!

The front of the building is sheared off. The whole street is filled with ambulances now.

And yes, I’m sort of disgusted with myself that my first response was, “I’m so filled with angst I just gotta blog about it!”

P.S. There were two cranes and it was the white one, not the red that collapsed. They better fucking take that red one down. I'll try to post pictures when I'm allowed back in my building.

Vindictive is not my color

Breakups, no matter the relationship: It’s like a car accident. You’re cruising along, doing everything right, signaling properly, hands at 10 and 2, and someone who made a wrong choice slams you out of nowhere.

Yum-o!

My ongoing one-sided feud with Rachel Ray continues. She’s having a ranch dressing week on her show. Ranch. Dressing. Week.

First of all: Fuck that noise. Leave the ranch alone.

Second of all, her recipes include (not making this up): Ranch mixed with salsa, ranch mixed with pesto, ranch mixed with parmesan and bacon, and ranch mixed with barbeque sauce.

Sweetie, stirring things into other things is not cooking by any stretch of the imagination. If you think it is, you’ll want to purchase my new cookbook Microwave Magic! Making Things Hot That Were Cold wherein I make things that were formerly cold into things that are now hot. Old pizza, frozen broccoli, veggie burgers. There’s nothing I can’t cook!

Oh, Rach, will your diet tips never end?

I was watching Rachel Ray the other day (my babysitting family gets three channels and, sadly, RR was the least terrible option.) She's making pasta and fried mozzarella, and she was literally in the process of breading cheese when she said, "This would make a nice, light lunch."

I just needed the world to know.

PSA

It's free coffee day at Dunkin Donuts. Adjust your lives acordingly. I'm not saying that you should go from Dunkin Donuts to Dunkin Donuts around your city, just that that's what I'll be doing.

Tonight's also the season finale of The Office. It's kind of a big day for Kate.

Update

Yeah, so Tumblr sucks. It keeps crashing on me when I try to post. So blogspot, you win my heart by default. Feel my wrath, Tumbr.

The site is now ReasonswhyIdumpedyou.blogspot.com. Please link to it and keep spreading the word. Your stories are hilarious and whatever the opposite of heartwarming is. Y'all are some ruthless bastards.

And I have no idea why my profile is all wonky.

Dump on me. No, wait, what?

Hey party people. I'm starting another blog. It's called reasonswhyidumpedyou.tumblr.com and it's gonna be awesome, but I need you, the reader, to help out.

What's the silly little reason you knew your relationship was dunzo, the dumbest reason you didn't accept a second date or just a ridiculous fight you've had?

My favorites so far are:

You looked at me in the eyes and said "Thank you for showing me neat things like fireworks.. this was my first time I have ever seen fireworks." You were 25

You spent the entire first date doing your Nicholson impression.

You forgot my first name and started calling me by my last name.


Good times, right? Well, this is the sort of hilarity you can expect on a semi-regular basis over at RWIDY. Check it out (in a few days, or whenevs I get officially started).

Email me at reasonswhyidumpedyou@gmail.com and spill it.

Suddenly a new contender emerges

Well, it's been a long search, but I've finally found the Match guy of my dreams. He's easy going (says so right in the first sentence, kinda twice, so you know it's true.) He can commit (a 27-year-old who's just getting out of a 10-year relationship? So healthy!) And he's a property (co)owner. Oh yeah, and he's mastered the shift key quite impressively...

VERY EASY GOING GUY WHO JUST GOES WITH THE FLOW.JUST GOT OUT OF A 10 YEAR RELATIONSHIP WHICH DIDN'T END WELL.WE OWN A HOUSE TOGETHER THAT IS NOW UP FOR SALE BECAUSE IT JUST DIDN'T WORK OUT.YOU FIND OUT ALOT ABOUT SOMEONE AFTER 10 YEARS. LOOKING FOR SOMEONE TO CHEER ME UP AND START A NEW LIFE WITH.

In which I out myself as a total geek

I’m amazed I had any friends at Grant Wood Elementary School, because I honestly used to run around correcting people’s grammar. If this applies to you, here’s your apology. I cringe thinking about it.

Am I proud of the little voice in the back of my head that screams, “Even though using it as a noun is commonly accepted, even by Merriam-Webster, it’s not ‘a myriad of’ because myriad is an ancient Greek word that means 10,000 and you wouldn’t say ‘a 10,000 of.’ "? No, but there it is nonetheless. So – in a career move that would have surprised none of my teachers – I channeled it into a stint as a copy editor.

I sat down at my desk the first day and looked to my right. My friend Justin was taking a swig of coffee, alternating with (no joke) glugs of Mylanta straight from the bottle. He was all of 22 at the time, not 45. I like this place, I thought.

Everything can go wrong. Every word has the potential for a correction. Things you were sure you knew are wrong. You type fast and “assess” becomes “asses”. So it’s with a sense of sympathy and schadenfreude that I read the correction section. And for the past three years, I’ve clipped out my favorites. (Shut up.) The best one is something like: Due to a transcription error so-and-so director of “Happy Endings” said, “I love foreign films because of the dialogue” not “I love porno films because of the dialogue.”

Awesome, right? Who’s got a geeky hobby now? Still me? Ok. I accept your judgment.

Also, check out my new favorite blog, regrettheerror.com, which is where my favorite recent correction came from (And, yes, I sort of want to sit down with you and rehash the prepositions-at-the-end-of-sentences debate):

The Columbia Spector. April 17, 2008

CORRECTION: This submission misstates that one Dalai Lama admitted to having sex with hundreds of men and women while knowing that he had AIDS. Additionally, the submission misstates that many monks participated in the dismemberment of female bodies. In fact, there is no factual evidence to substantiate either of these claims. Spectator regrets the error.

Bitch, this ain't Jeopardy

It's spring (!), which means for me it's new roommate time. When I was showing people the place, I had just a few simple questions for candidates:

1. Would you end each sentence in upspeak as though everything is a question? Cause bitch, this ain't Jeopardy.

2. Do you like to be thanked when you buy basic household goods, such as toilet paper, whilst also not thanking your roommate for cleaning or buying things?

3. Are you casually racist? Would you say something like "I mean, black people? Is there anything they won't do?"

4. Will you leave your company's dishes in the sink, and when your roommate asks you to do them, will you say, "Well, you bought them, they're your dishes. You do them." ?

5. Will you hang up on your roommate when I apologize for not being able to leave work to let your guest into the apartment?

6. Will you not only not notice when I clean, but also accuse me of never cleaning, despite the toilet, tub counters and floors generally being spotless?

7. Will you insist on paying your rent late every month? And when I bring up the fact that this puts me in financial distress, will you tell me that's my poor communication skills in action, because you didn't know that paying on the 1st was important?

If so, welcome aboard!

Memo from Dick Wolf

To: All staff writers
From: Dick Wolf

Subject: Free pizza

Hey guys,

I’m sure you saw the headline yesterday about the DC Madam being dead, and here at Law & Order you know what we do to headlines: We rip from them.

That’s where you come in. Cancel your weekend plans because I’m locking you all in the writers’ basement until you come up with a thinly veiled account of the story. You know the drill.

I’m thinking she was murdered for knowing too much. I’m thinking she was set up. I’m thinking it goes all the way to the top. Here’s a tentative beat sheet:

• Jogger/dog walker/arguing couple is startled to find dead body

• First cop on scene says it’s a suicide, plain and simple. Her face is gone, and there's no ID, but there's a bill in her purse with her address.

• Go to her house.

• Detective sees full plate of food on her table, has a hunch it’s (Chung chung!) murder. “How many girls you know who kill themselves before eating dinner?” Exactly.

• That black lady in forensics says they’re working on a ballistics match “on your Jane Doe”. But wait! Her DNA matches the famed madam.

• Detective recognized the picture she pulls up and gives all the back story through dialogue to another detective.

• Joke about detective going to a hooker.

• Cops talk to her friend, who steers them to the madam’s local bar.

• Interview bartender who won't stop doing his job as he's interviewed but remembers every detail about the random client because “she was a real good tipper. Dressed up real nice too. Don’t get many of that kind in here. She was always with a new guys. Must’ve had a lot of boyfriends.” Detective: “Something like that.”

• Commercial break.

• Friend just remembered to tell them the madam had a boat.

• DA goes to court but the judge won’t let them search it for some obscure legal reason.

• But the friend has a key for the boat and she finds signs of a break in.

• Work in a high-speed water chase.

• Somehow, her little black book turns up.

• Judge won’t allow it as evidence.

• Friend says “Wait, Judge Smalls? Walter Smalls?”

• Turns out judge is in the book.

• Commercial break

• Blah blah blah detecive work

• Judge is the killer, but he goes free on a technicality.


This is one of the “thinking episodes” I like to do where the detectives debate wealth and privilege. Get your Emmy speeches ready.

Also: I’m leaving my Gold AmEx in my top drawer. Bob has the key. Order pizza, but let’s cap the toppings at two.


Chung chung,

Dick

An open letter to American Idol

Hey American Idol!

Wazzupwitchu? How are the kids these days? Good, good. And David Archuleta? Puberty any day now, right? Totally.

Listen, you know I don't watch you. I have my reasons. But I caught a commerical your "singers" did last night for one of your sponsors, Ford.

Quick comment: The song was about cleaning up pollution or something. Whatevs. Earth blah blah. Anyway, David Cook sang and the leaves went back on the tree. That's not really cleaning up the Earth so much as it is reversing time.

I say this as someone who has been punched in the face by springtime: Every spring brings new leaves, new flowers and new allergens. Don't panic. It's natural to feel guilty, but don't blame yourself. You may pollute the air, but I guarantee this one’s not your fault good Will Hunting. It's not your fault.

Every year the trees will grow and lose leaves. This isn't something Ford needs to concern itself with. It happens every fall as part of the trees' natural rhythms. Don't worry though. It may not stay green all winter, but I promise, come spring the leaves will come back.

Look out your window! It could even be happening right now!

Keep it real,

Kate

P.S. Just admit you need Soul Patrol to come back. You can't top that Guy Smiley magic