Bitter Sweet

I know I've said this before, and I've come running back after a few days... and maybe this time will be different...  Who knows?

I really feel like my "career" as a writer is never going to really take off.  I don't have the drive or ambition that is needed.  I only have the desire to be special and different.

Maybe that's not in the cards for me.  Maybe it's time I stopped trying to be something I'm not meant to be.

I've been doing a lot of thinking, soul searching, and just blindly feeling at lot lately.  There's so much going on in my life, between trying to move, figuring out what to do about the future, and trying to get motivated to write.  And while I can get excited about everything else, the latter just leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Writing has never been a passion of mine.  It has always simply been something I'm good at.  I have ideas.  I have no idea how to start or finish a project, no discipline for it either.  I guess that makes me about as useful to the literary world as, pardon the expression, tits on a bull.

There are a lot of things I want to do, starting with, and I never thought I'd say this, getting married and starting a family.  I just don't see where "Kat Storm" really fits into that.

I suppose I've struggled with this for a while... its exhausting to be two people.  Kat is an image, and her angst and glamour are both exaggerated.  The real person is a lot more mellow, and a lot less baleful.   The real person willingly trades nights at a bar for nights with close friends and her boyfriend, trades the hottest new pair of pumps for curtains, and trades her purple sparkley dress for a wedding dress... I hope, anyway.

I guess what I'm saying is, although I'll always want to be a star, I've come to accept that it might not be in the cards for me.  Though I never though I could be "wife" or "mother", the idea of settling down... no, I don't like that term... the idea of slowing down has started to appeal to me.

One of my favorite authors once wrote that "It does not do to dwell in dreams, and forget to live."  I have a life, friends, family and so much else that needs my attention right now.  I think it's time to stop being Kat...

And just be Stacie for a while.

I'm not saying I'll never ever write again.  We all know I tend to be overly dramatic about blogging and my writing.  It could be that I'll take a week off and be so bored I'll want to start writing again.  Or I may never come back.  The point is, I don't know right now.  But I do know that my priorities have started to shift.  I'm growing up, and moving on.

Blogging has brought some amazing people in my life... my wife Courtney, my good friend Jaxie, and Brannon.  People like Alexandra and Rachel, and Kelvin, who never cease to make me laugh, and who always have something encouraging to say.  And all the people who forwarded my stuff, stumbleupon'ed it, Reddit'ed it, Tweeted and facebooked it... All the people who made me feel like my writing meant something.  I won't forget that.

It's been a crazy five years, and I hope that when and if I return, you will all still be willing to read the insanity that pops into my head... but for right now, and I just need to focus on my life.

I'll miss this.  And like I constantly keep saying, maybe I'll be back.  Maybe tomorrow... but the way I feel right now... I just need to focus on getting the house taken care of, getting situated in my crazy new life as "The Girlfriend"... which I've never been good at, so I need all the time I can get to work on that... and to just be a better friend to the people I love.

So Peace Out, Storm Chasers... I love you all.

...A K A
Stacie

Ten Types of Friends You're Not Sure Why You Have

We all have different group dynamics within our social circles.  But I'm willing to bet you have at least one friend you have no idea why you have.  Maybe you grew up together and it's just easier to be friends than it is to move on... or maybe you keep them around to feel better about yourself.  Whatever the reason, you sometimes find yourself wondering why.  I've been unfortunate enough to BE one (or all) of those friends to some people, and I've HAD some of these friends.  Some of these traits tend to over lap, I've noticed.

1. The "Absentee Friend".  You never see each other.  You never hang out, and when you do manage to catch them, they spend the entire time on their phone, texting and tweeting.  They only stay for a little while before rushing off to do something else... Effectively making you feel like you're not interesting enough for them... but you've been friends for years, so you let their behavior slide while passive aggressively texting another friend about them.

2. The "Compulsive Liar Friend".    Everything this person says stinks of over exaggeration.  It's like, they don't know how to have a conversation with you without trying to make you feel like your life is diddly squat compared to theirs.  It doesn't do any good to point out when you catch them in a lie, either, because they'll just try to worm their way out of it.

3. The "It's Not My Fault Friend".  Whether it be ruining your jacket they borrowed, or forgetting to pick you up from work when your car is in the shop, nothing is ever this person's fault.  Nothing.  They have a million and one excuses every time there is a problem.  They take responsibility for nothing.  They probably are also that compulsive liar friend, too.

4. The "No Matter What, I Can't Get My Ass Anywhere On Time Friend".  As an obnoxiously overly punctual person, I hate it when I'm late.  I try to make it a practice to show up every where at LEAST ten minutes earlier.  So when someone shows up late for a meeting, a date, or to work, I take it as a slap in the face.  I know sometimes things happen, but when it becomes routine, I get really insulted.   I hate waiting for people.  I have a couple of friends that I will actually tell to be somewhere 45 minutes before I actually plan to show up, and sometimes, I am STILL waiting for them. *cough*Foxy*cough*.  I mean, buy a watch.  Bonus points if they always have an excuse for being late. (See #3)

5. The "Push Over Friend".  This person has no backbone and won't argue with anything you say.  While it sounds like a good idea in theory, the "What do you want to do?"  "I dunno, what do you want to do?" Gets old.

6. The "Shit Stirrer Friend".  This person loves drama.  They start crap (intentionally or unintentionally) by saying things.  Planting seeds.  A favorite example of mine is that a few months back, the Juggernaut and I were talking about a girl he knows and he says "Yeah, she doesn't like you."  Well, I had met her once, for about five minutes, so I thought that was a rather harsh judgment.  Later he admitted she never actually said that, but that he just assumed she wouldn't like me because we both have such strong personalities.  Kind of makes me wonder what he says about me when I'm not around.

7. The "I'm Bored Friend".  No matter what, it's not enough for this person.  I'm a relatively low key kind of girl.  I'm not a big dancer or drinker (hey hey hey, ANYMORE!), I prefer to sit in a booth and talk to a couple of good friends rather than get Snooki-Making-Out-With-A-Bush wastey pants... but I have a few friends that find that sort of stuff disdainful.  Which makes me wonder, if we can't have a good time having a conversation, why are we friends?

8. The "Fair Weather Friend".  If things are going good in your life, this person is around 24/7.  Maybe you have some extra money and they want to help you spend it.  Maybe you have a new connection at a local bar.  Or maybe you're just the most fun person ever.  When things are good.  However, when things get bad, your BFF is nowhere to be found.  They can't handle broke you.  Or sad you.

9. The "Mario Friend".  No matter what you do, this person has ONE UP you.  You have a new boyfriend, they have a new boyfriend who's a doctor.  Your fantasy team is second in the division, their fantasy team is first place in the league.  Every single thing you do, they have to do better.

10. The "User Friend".  Whether it be for money, for sex, for the sake of just having someone to do something with... This person doesn't actually care about you.  you're their last resort, but by-gum, you're there, and they are going to use you for everything they can.  (see also #8)

Now, I don't want any of my friends to get upset, as I didn't write this post with any of you specifically in mind, except for "No Matter How Hard I try I Can't Get My Ass Anywhere On Time".  However, I know I have a former friend reading this, and I would like to say to her that yes, several of these points are about you, and that's why we're not friends any more.  I'm sure you have your own opinion about what kind of friend I was.

Anyway...

Basically, what I'm saying is, we all have faults, but we should try to recognize how we're treating the people we call our friends.  Sometimes, we can be blind to what our actions are really doing and how they affect our social circle.  And if you have a friend that you think is taking advantage of you, or isn't giving you the respect you deserve, speak up.  Talk to them privately about their behavior. Don't be accusing or defensive, just say "Hey, I know you have stuff going on right now, but I just want you to know it makes me feel really _______ when you _______ ."  If they are really your friend, and want to stay your friend, they'll listen.  And at the same time, if a friend comes to you and says that, you need to listen.  A good friend is hard to find.

Love in a Hopeless Place

I am a sap.

There is no one sappier than I am, except those Hallmark people.

And maybe Sinead O'Connor...

Your love 

Has opened up a world 

I've never known 

All hope 

Was found 

A place I never dreamed I would go

 Feels like only yesterday 

I had locked my heart away 

Safe behind a castle of stone 

Sure I’d always be alone 

Only you know how To hear me through the silence 

You reach a part of me that no one else can see 

Forever true there’s only me and only you 

Only me and you

Since Valentine's Day is next week, I wanted to take a moment and let you guys in on all the sappiness I've been feeling the last five or so months.

I'm in love.  I'm in FUCKING LOVE.

I'm not going to say that I've never been in love before, but I've never been in love like THIS before.  I mean, there was whatever you want to call the bullshit I had with J-The-Married-Liar or Psycho Joe.  There was belatedly realizing that I loved Justin.  There was the bullshit with The Bearded Wonder.  And I wouldn't go back and change anything about it.  Everything I went through with those guys has taught me to appreciate what I have so much more now.

Boyfriend is amazing guy, and I probably don't deserve him.  He's sweet and thoughtful, and puts up with my moodiness, my snapping at him, and my lazy, selfish ass. 

I never thought that I would be looking at houses and thinking about getting married one day at this time last year. I thought that, given the way things had just ended with BW that I would be alone forever.  

Instead, I spend my spare time looking up recipes to cook for my boyfriend... and a little voice in my head goes: YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND!  I have a man I love to cook for!  I don't even really mind doing the dishes afterwards, and anyone who has ever lived with me knows just how big of a deal that is.

I spend time looking at houses, day dreaming about what it's going to be like to have a place that is just ours, that we don't share with anyone else.  Don't get me wrong, I love his sister, but total privacy will be amazing.  I fantasize about how I'm going to decorate it, and how we're going to spend lazy Sundays together, curled up with our cats and dog.

I spend time doodling my first name with his last name.  Yes, we have resorted to that level of corniness.

And I think about how happy I am to be with him.  He came into my life when I felt hopeless and unlovable, and he reminded me that no only am I deserving of love, but that I have so much love to give. He's the one I think I've waited for since I saw Sleeping Beauty.  He's my prince, and while he might be in a beat up mustang instead of a white horse, I wouldn't trade him for anything.  He came into my life at the exact right moment, and reminded me that love exists, even in the most hopeless of places.

Do you know how hard it is to climb on a soap box in 6 inch heels?

My first introduction to cross dressing came at the tender age of  6 when I saw "Some Like It Hot" on TV.  I remember it quite vividly, because I had never seen anything like it.  I grew up mostly under the care of my Grandparents, who were pretty religious people, and didn't get down with that kind of nonsense.

When I was 10 or so, my mother rented "Too Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar" on Pay-Per-View.  At the time, I just thought men in dresses were funny, and even complained to my mother "Why are they driving across the country dressed like that if people don't think it's funny?  Why didn't they just go dressed as men?"

Because then there wouldn't have been a movie, Katrina!

I digress.

A few years later, when I was entering puberty and experimenting with make up for the first time, I caught The RuPaul Show on VH1.  I've previously written about my admiration for RuPaul and her (yes, her) work.   Ru is the only person I can think of who is a bigger Diva than I am, except for maybe Miss Piggy.  I wonder if Fox would air a reality TV show with the three of us trying to "Out Diva" one another...

I'm getting off topic again.

I had friends in school who did drag.  I had one friend that was constantly in drag.  Unless he had to work, he was in his heels and wig.  And he was a prettier woman than I am.

I think a large part of the reason I'm so interested in drag culture is because I was exposed to it at such a young age, and it just became a part of my life, like having a Jewish Friend or a Black Friend.  They're a little different than I am, but they're still awesome.

The fabulous clothes, the wigs, the make up, the glitter, are all things that came later, but for the most part, we tend to accept things more readily the younger we were introduced to them.

Boys in dresses were never a big deal to me.

My boyfriend doesn't come right out and say he has a problem with it, but I get the sense that if ever faced with a Drag Queen, it might make him uncomfortable.  I don't know what's going to happen when we have our new house in a few months, because I'm sure there will be three or four drag queens draped over various pieces of furniture every other day, throwing shade and sharing the T.

But that I can deal with.  I understand that, like so much else in life, Boyfriend just wasn't exposed to it the way I was.  I joke around all the time that he was Amish before I came along.

What I can't deal with, though, are people who think that because someone is a drag queen, or even just gay, that they are disgusting.

And I hear a lot of that whenever I go out with my friends who do drag.  And while they take it in stride, it really hurts me to hear the things people say about them.

A common misconception about people who do drag is that they ALL do it because they want to be women.  While in some cases, that might be true (like my friend from school), for the most part, Drag Queens are performers.  They sing, dance, act, and create characters.  They are make up artists, hair stylists, and costume designers...  They may put on a wig and heels for the night, but they don't want to live their lives as women.

Via

They aren't freaks.  They're playing a role.  Many straight actors dress as women all the time, including the Terminator himself, Arnold.  That's right.  He dressed as a woman.  So did Hugo Weaving ( Elrond from Lord of the Rings) Patrick Swayze, Wesley Snipes, Tom Hanks,  Tim Curry, and many others. Are they freaks?  Well, Tim Curry is.

Another common misconception is that they all get something sexual out of it.  Maybe some queens do, but the vast majority just enjoy performing.  Like any other actor or actress.

There are those who do it because they enjoy doing hair and make up, or making clothes.  There are a million reasons why people do it, but just because they do, doesn't make them something to fear or harass.

But you know that, Dear Reader.  That's why you come here... because you are smart enough to know that.  I don't need to preach to you.  But I can ask you to educate your kids, and expose them to many different things when they are young, so that when they grow up, they can make their own decisions about drag, and other controversial things.  Don't teach them to parrot your beliefs... Teach them to create their own... but also teach them to be tolerant of things that are "different."

Maybe in a hundred years, the human race will have finally learned to get along.  ...Or we'll have blown ourselves up.

Road Trip: The Blog (Better than the movie, but with less nudity.)

I firmly believe that it is a right of passage that all young folk must undertake:  You must go on a road trip with your friends.  If not, you cannot truly say you've lived.  Nor can you truly say you know who your true friends are.  A true friend will still speak to you after the road trip is over, after you've accidentally peed on their car copping a squat on the side of the road, or gotten them lost because you missed a step in the directions, or they “accidentally” leave you at a gas station in Tulsa.
You also learn a lot about yourself on a road trip, for example, how long you can “hold it” when the nearest rest stop is 115 miles away, and your friend doesn’t want to stop,  or just how many 7-11 burritos you can consume before you wish you were dead.
When I was enjoying my frivolous and mostly misspent youth, my two good friends (H-Woww and The Swede) and I embarked on several  road trips, but the first will never, ever be forgotten.  It was a short one, but eventful nonetheless.  We were traveling several hours to see a rock band play at a venue in Washington D.C.  with a friend of H-Woww’s younger brother tagging along for the ride.  He said he was meeting friends there, and just needed a ride TO the concert.

What followed was a bona fide disaster.  I remember it vividly:

During the concert, we somehow got separated.  I found H-Woww shortly after the end of the show, and we walked around for a bit looking for Swede.  That was when we heard what we just knew must have been gunshots.
Qhen you’re from Smalltown, USA, every loud noise in a big city MUST be a gunshot.
And of course, our immediate though was that Swede must have been shot.  Panicky young girls in a strange city.
...It’s funny if you’re anyone but us.
We finally decide to go wait for her at the car.  Thankfully, she was there waiting for us.
“Where were you?” H-Woww asked, wide-eyed.
“I threw up.  The security guard thought I was pregnant.” Swede grumbled, throwing herself across the backseat.
“Why’d you throw up?”
“From the heat.”
It was then that I realized that Kyle was still missing.
“Do you think he met up with his friends?” I asked.
“I saw him when I was coming out to the car,” came Swede’s muffled voice from the backseat.  “I didn’t see anyone with him.”
“Should we wait for him?”H-Woww asked, turning around to look at Swede’s green complexion.
“I don’t know,” I said uncertainly.
After about an hour of sitting in the dark parking lot, alone, in the middle of Washington, D.C., we finally decided to leave.  We were tired, hungry and had school in the morning.
If was about the time we pulled out of the parking lot that we realized that we were lost.  We had no idea that we couldn’t just flip the directions and go back the way we came.  And we got the bright idea that because we took the “inner loop” in, we should take the “outer loop” out.
Fast forward two hours.  We’re lost somewhere in Virginia, driving around in circles..  We have no cell phones, no GPS, and no money.  Yes, we are geniuses.  But you see, this experience taught me something: Never leave the house again.

We stopped a gas station, and couldn’t believe the it had bars over the windows and that you couldn’t actually go inside, you talked to a guy through a little slot.  It was like buying a movie ticket.  And the guy?  Yeah, he didn’t speak English.
“We’re trying to get back to Maryland.  Route 50.  East!” H-Woww pleaded through the little opening.
“I thought we go west to get home?” Swede hissed to me.
“The sun rises in the east, over the ocean.  We live near the ocean.  We live east.”
“Oh.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“Do you know how to get to route 50?  Maryland?”  H-Woww repeated.
“Merry-land? What is Merry-land?”  The guy in the window said.
“Where are we right now?”
“Alex-san-dria.” He winked.  Why do the guys at the gas station always wink at me?
“Thanks.” H-Woww muttered as we trooped back to the car.
“I’m hungry.” I muttered.
“You’re always hungry.” Swede grumbled.
“Well, lets just go down this street and see if it takes us back to a highway.” I said.
“What if it gets us more lost?”
“Then I guess we’ll have to suck it up and call H-woww's dad.” I stuck my tongue out.
“He’ll never let me go anywhere again.” H-Woww' lamented.
We argued back and forth about which way to for another half an hour before we finally decided on a course of action.
We climbed in the car, drove, literally, half a block, and saw a HUGE ASS SIGN that said “To US 50, Next Right.”
Really?  REALLY?!
Yes, really.

When we finally got home,  it was an hour after we were supposed to be at school, and H-Woww and I spent the day watching Monster’s Inc. in her bed.  Swede went to class late, and we vowed to never plan so poorly again.
However, our next road trip did not go much better, and it was at that point I decided that our alliance must not be repeated on my next trip out of the comfort of Maryland’s familiar Eastern Shore.

Oh, and Kyle?  If you’re still in D.C., I’m sorry.  I really am.  But I wanted a damned taco.

An Open Letter to J.K. Rowling

Dear J.K. Rowling,

I wish that I could say that I had grown up with your books, and that I had gone with Harry on his magical adventures, or that Hermione had been my role model in school, or that Ron's loyalty was something I aspired to... and Neville had inspired me to be brave.  But they didn't.

I was twenty-five when I first read the Harry Potter books.  Half Blood Prince was all ready on it's way to DVD before I picked up my first Harry Potter book (a well worn, used copy purchased from E-bay for $3).

I fought the Potter Phenomenon for years.  I didn't think the story would be worth my time.  I read books like "Lord of the Rings" and "Bag of Bones".  I had no time for Children's books.

One of my biggest regrets, at least where Pottermania is concerned, is that it took me so long to give it a chance.

I read the entire series in two (sleepless) weeks.  I couldn't put the books down.

You are the type of talent who simultaneously makes me love and hate my decision to be a writer.  On the one hand, it makes me appreciate that if I can ever make half the impression on my readers that you made on me, I've done something amazing.  On the other hand, it makes me wonder if I'll ever be able to weave that kind of intricate story.  Can I ever write characters like Severus and Dumbledore?  Can I create a world of magic, and mystery and love?

Though the story of Harry Potter is over, I take your magic with me everywhere I go.  The wisdom of Dumbledore's Words, the Bravery of Neville, the love of Lilly, and the perseverance of Harry... Those are qualities I strive to have.  I'll never be as smart as Hermione, or as good a mother as Molly.  I'll never be as responsible or as serious as Professor McGonagall.  I'll never be the Dark Knight that Snape was... but I can be brave, and I can love, and I can fight for the people who mean something to me.

James taught me that I don't have to be a perfect person to do the right thing... and Lily taught me that love can conquer all.  Harry taught me that no matter how tired I am, and no matter how hopeless a situation is, I had to see it through to the end.  Severus taught me that I should never take anyone for granted, because you may lose them forever with one thoughtless remark.  Hermione and Ron taught me to stick beside my true friends.  And Dumbledore... he taught me that it does not do to dwell in dreams and forget to live.

I have immersed myself in this secret world, lose myself in the magic of your talent... You made me laugh.  You made me cry.  You taught me to be a better person.  Your words, your inventions, everything you created has suddenly shaped me differently.  I can only imagine all that you have done for those who grew up with it.

I read somewhere that if you looked into the Mirror of Erised, you would see your mother, who never got to see you finish Harry Potter.  I just know that she would have been so proud of you, because what you have done has shaped a generation, and generations to come because my children will know all about Harry, Ron, and Hermione... but also because you followed your dreams.

When I write, I often ask myself, "WWJD-- What Would Jo Do?"  I try so hard to be a tenth or even a twentieth what you are.   I admire your strength, your passion, your drive, your determination, and above all your talent.  You will have heard this a million times by now, I'm sure, but I am blown away by you.  Every time I read the books, which has been more than I care to admit, I am shocked that you were just about my age when you began to write about Hogwarts and The Boy Who Lived.

In a world where the Jersey Shore is one of the highest rated programs on TV and children forgo reading for video games and vapid cartoons, your work brought joy to me and breathed life into my hope for the future.  If everyone who reads Harry Potter loves it half as much as I do, we're not doing too badly.

I have never felt so strongly about a series of books as I have about Harry Potter... and I have read a LOT of books... but your books are like Hogwarts... They are my home.  I will always come back to them.  I love them.

Thank you, Jo, for letting me be a part of the magic.

With Great Admiration,
Kat