Handicap This

I've always had a strong desire to go see a taping of a show. The Colbert Report, Late Night with Conan O'Brien or the Ellen show. I just think if would be an absolute blast, but here's my dilemma. I would travel to New York or L.A. to experience such an event, but I don't want to have to fork over a chunk of a change in exchange for a seat in the back corner where I can't even catch a glimpse of Jay Leno's famous chin. After careful observation, I have made an amazing discovery. There is one tool I could use in an act of desperation to grab a front row seat. It is now that I ask you to watch the video below. Pay careful attention to where the wheelchair is located. Go. Watch.




Did you see that!? That wheelchair is practically on the stage! That guy is practically a guest on the Ellen show. All you would have to do is show up to the taping in a wheelchair. It's not like their going to "test" if your handicapped. Just deny being able to walk and if they "test" the feeling in your legs by hitting them with a hammer or with a solid punch, just suck it up you whimp, your getting a front row seat to the Ellen show.

I'm Sorry

Dear Flight Attendants,
Hey there. Me again. Just wanted to send you some Christmas cheer and my apologies for not paying attention to your safety presentation on my Thanksgiving Flight home. I should know how to properly put on a face mask, and in the event that the plane were to crash over a body of water (unlikely, but I'll play along), I should be aware that my seat cushion could save my life (bull shit). I also would like to apologize for un-buckling my seat belt as the plane was making it's way to the gate. You are correct, something terrible could happen after we have landed. The plane could tip over? Or catch on fire? Or it could run into the airport? I would also like to apologize for when I asked if this was the newest edition of SkyMall Magazine. Yes, it was a jackass question. I am also deeply sorry for running up to the cockpit and banging on the door while screaming, "It's my birthday! It's my birthday!" I had completely forgotten that whole 9/11 incident. It was also inappropriate for me to put my complimentary drink in the overhead compartment. It was an open drink and I have no idea why I thought that was a good idea. Oh, and I completely forgot that I had a knife taped to my inner thigh. That was out of line. I should have never tossed my neck pillow as if it was a frisbee and it was completely out of line for me to give that baby next to me that Airbourne pill. And It was uncalled for when I called that individual wearing a turban Osama. You're right, not everyone with a turban is named Osama. I had no idea his name was Mark. He certainly did not look like a Mark.

Happy Holidays,
Love Katie O

Boy O Boy

2 years ago I graduated to the "adult table" for Thanksgiving dinner. Apparently someone informed the rest of my family that I had gone through puberty, and access was granted. There is one haunting question I receive every year.
This years Thanksgiving dinner table talk was "The side effects of medicine", because conversation has stooped to everyone comparing health problems. Fun Fact: Apparently everyone in my family has a case of Restless Leg Syndrome. I thought this was a bull shit disease because the commercials start off with "If I don't move for hours on end, my legs feel funny. Restless Leg syndrome." I always sat on the couching thinking, well yeah, that happens to everyone. Anyways, everyone is talking about the side effects of their medications. Grogginess, headaches..you name it. My grandpa's winning because he's basically announcing he's on death row, when my Uncle Bob throws his fist on the table and declares, "Regardless of what medication your on, you should just expect to get a mild case of diarrhea." So, there I sat, absolutely disgusted with the conversation at hand, when somehow the diarrhea comment led to, "So Katie....Do you have a boyfriend?" Damnit, there it was. It came out of nowhere. That question always conveniently comes right as I have either A) Spilled gravy on the front of my shirt or B) As I am simultaneously eating two pieces of pie. "Nope, I still don't." Then they ask "why not?" And this is not rhetorical, their looking for an answer. "Because I have an STD. Happy Thanksgiving Everyone! Let's eat!" So I take a bite of pie, swallow and begin with, "You know, I'm not really looking..I haven't found anyone worth while.......I'm just SUPER busy...busy me, between church and the grocery store and walking for miles on end, I just can't seem to find the time!" And before I know it, suddenly my family has turned into E-Harmony and Match.com, every public outing turns into speed dating. "Look, he has a backpack, I bet he's smart!" "Look, he's wearing sunglasses, I bet he's super cool!" "Once he gets rid of those braces and Skechers, he will be a 10." Then it just gets ridiculous. "Kathleen, I know he's in a wheel chair, and yes maybe he wears diapers and the right side of his face is paralyzed, but he really is a sweet guy and probably has a stellar personality."

Honestly?

Honestly?

Happy Holidays from the Williams!

I love Christmas cards. I love the seasons greetings and the Happy Holidays. I love the pictures included inside, everyone in holiday sweaters at some ski resort, or in front of a giant pine tree. My favorite thing about Christmas cards are the one page updates. It's the families year in review summarizing each child's accomplishments onto an off white letter surrounded by a border of hollies. For once, I wish a family would be completely honest in their holiday update. Below is a fictional holiday update from my fictional family. This is what the holidays are about.....

Greetings friends and family! What a year it's been! Well as you know, the Williams have had one crazy and blessed year! We are so fortunate to look back on our blessings and share them with you.

Kristen, our oldest daughter, is entering her senior year at Brown High School. She's looking forward to moving onto college where she can escape her parents grip! Hahaha. As you all know, we had that brief pregnancy scare earlier this year. What a mess that was! Haha. We still, to this day, thank God that Kristen did not give birth to a child. We're happy to announce that she is no longer dating Wayne, who now goes by the name of "Spattered Blood". Kids these days! Kristen is looking forward to earning her parents trust back, and might we add, she's well on her way. She's already removed the eyebrow ring and lip ring! Hallelujah!

Marcus, our middle child is the brains of the family! He's still at Wabash Middle School and is carrying a 4.0. Marcus recently took first place at the Wabash Middle School Science fair with his remake of an AK-47 assault rifle. And might we add, it was not made out of pipe cleaners or Legos, no Marcus ordered the parts of the internet and it actually shoots! Haha, mom wasn't too happy due to the fact he used her credit card, but anything for the sake of science! We want to thank you all for your prayers and kind words. For those of you who don't know, Marcus recently spent some time in Juvenile Hall. He brought a homemade bomb and a bow and arrow to school. Luckily no one was hurt! You gotta let kids make their own mistakes!

And let's not forget our youngest Child, Timmy! Timmy is entering the 4th grade and could not be a bigger fan of Harry Potter. Not only has Tim read all the Harry Potter Books, but he decided to spend last summer writing "his own" 8th book to the series! The book is 456 pages and can be purchased at the Walgreens on 90th and Dodge. Tim attended "Slim Down" camp this past summer for 3 months and lost a grand total of 5 pounds! Mom's really trying to help Tim get out this obesity phase so no more Mac 'N" Cheese or hot dogs! Instead we've opted for organic hamburger helper and kiddie cuisines!

And then there's me. Well as you know, this year hasn't been the greatest. Ted and I got divorced. Within the blink of an eye I traded in my Yukon for a Ford Escort! Haha Merry Chirstmas! I used food as an emotional crutch and am definitely paying for it now! It's going to be XXXL for me this year! Hahaha keep that apple pie and turkey far away! I've enlisted a great deal of help from some self-help books and will be a new member to Jenny Craig as of January 2nd. Well thats it for the Williams family! We wish you all a blessed holiday season! May God enter and bless your life and may your hearts be warmed this Christmas season!

Love, Mary, Kristen, Marcus and Timmy!

Grocery Store Disease

For the longest time I thought one of my best friends brought the best out of me. Always encouraging me.....supporting me. Boy was I wrong. I'm talking about the grocery store. We use to be best friends, but that's behind us now. I'm not a good cook...I'm just not. I burn things, I have no idea what teflon is and I can't boil noodles. I'm pathetic...I get that. But the grocery store....that was a place i thought I had under control. For some odd reason when I step into the grocery store I get this "top chef" mentality where all the sudden my brain tricks me into thinking I'm a rockstar in the kitchen. I think to myself "Tonight...lobster bisque sounds delicious. Maybe veil?"
Which is ridiculous. I tend to gravitate towards the spice aisle. Before I know it my hands are confidently grabbing thyme, oregano and mustard seed. All the sudden I'm grabbing other innocent shoppers and recommending ingredients.
"Oh, your making a balsamic fig chutney with roasted grapes? Here lemme help you. Might I recommend minced garlic cloves?" Yep, I'm that ass hole. And then the produce section. I fucking flip out. Everything is so colorful and I feel like that color should be embraced...so in my cart goes sweet potatoes, spaghetti squash, lemons and limes. I'm dancing around with my shopping cart, weighing bull shit items like flax seed. I'm practically starring in my own ridiculous musical while everyone whispers "she's definitely retarded..she should not have a cart." Then I get up to the register and as I'm watching all my ridiculous items pass by I'm reassuring myself thinking, "Good purchases...solid purchases." Then I'll tell the cashier to "hold on! I forgot an item!" And i will run and grab hydrogen peroxide........pathetic. It's a disease really. I have a disease.

Icing on the cake

Today I was interviewing someone on the phone. We were about half way in when I hear this

"Yeah, um can I get a crunch wrap supreme with a side of Nachos and Baja Mountain Dew? No, not the regular mountain dew, the baja mountain dew...
................
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She was in the taco bell drive through. She did not get the job.

Carol has a Flute

I'm not really a "movie theater" person. I would rather watch a movie in the privacy of my own home, but there is one reason I absolutely love going to the movie theater, and that reason is the flute melody. That adorable 3 second melody that plays as the giant AMC letters appear on the screen, adorned with a shooting star. I think that melody is hilarious and this is why.

What if you were hired by AMC theaters to play the flute melody? What if that was your only job? What if your name was Carol, you were 15 years old and rather than opting to work at the local BK or Boston Market, you opted to be AMC's flute girl. Carols mom pulls up to AMC Theaters at 2pm everyday in her Astro Van. Carol jumps out with her kahkis on and starched AMC polo, flute case in hand. She runs into AMC, looks at her CASIO watch and realizes she's running behind schedule. She won't have time to warm up. Carol clocks in, checks her schedule in the employee lounge and realizes that she needs to be opening for Saw IV in theater 6 in 2 minutes. In record time, she pieces her flute together, races to theater 6 and makes it just in time. As the last preview shows, Carol takes her place underneath the exit sign, approaches the flute to her lips and as the giant AMC letters make there way across the screen, she nails her flute melody. She bows, in the dark, because the theater resuses to turn on the lights for her 3 second performance. She then darts next door to theater 7 to open up for Bee Movie. She will work until 6pm, grab a slushie, spill it on her khaki pants, and then wait for her mom to pick her up.

I, sadly, think of this scenario every single time I hear that flute melody.

Heaven

When I die, I hope I arrive at Heaven, assuming I have jumped that hurdle and actually make it to the gates, I would like God to be standing there, grab my hand and ask "Katie, what would you like heaven to be like?" That is when I will pull this video out of my back pocket and say, "here pal, this is my heaven." This is what heaven should be.

Shut Yo Mouth

My mouth has a mind of its own. For some odd reason my body has programmed itself to prioritize my mouth over my brain. For example, I was working at home a while back, doing my job, when I interviewed a woman over the phone. Her baby screamed through the whole interview. Towards the end of the interview, I politely said, "And for the next round of interviews there can't be any noise in the background" She apologized, giving me some sob story about how she was a single mom, frequent Wal-Mart shopper, etc, then I said this......
"No, I completely understand, I have two kids of my own."
?
Fucking Mouth.
Well this happened again, last night at one of my Improv Olympic classes. During our 10 minute break, we gathered and began talking about how technology is really advancing. Fascinating convo right? Well, I felt like I needed to jump in and be heard. Discussion had climaxed when someone mentioned robotic advances to aid in warfare, when I said this,
"Kind of like the roomba". My brain up to this point had desperately tried to keep my mouth shut, but alas, the mouth won. Everyone looked at me in a quizzical fashion, until someone broke the silence by saying, "Like the robotic vacuum?"
Yes, in the midst of desperately wanting to fit into to this technological conversation I had blurted "roomba". So I confidently kept with it, "Yeah that robot vacuum. Talk about technology!"
Whoever brings up the roomba in conversation might as well wear a sign that says "social outcast." I made a terrible mistake last night.
I brought up the roomba, which had aboslutely nothing to the do with the conversation at hand, except that it was "kind of like" a robot.
Well done mouth, well done.

Food For thought.

This is a thought that constantly creeps into my head and drives me crazy. Why do we laugh? What determines what is funny? Why is it when you see or hear something funny, your body is programmed to open your mouth and make an obnoxious noise? It just seems like a bizarre response. What is humor? Are you programmed with a particular humor? Is it developed?
Just some food for thought.