Eat the Damn Cake

Maggie: What makes you mad?

Kate: A lot of things. Dropping things. Those commercials for tomato sauce where the voiceover tells the general public that eating Ragu guarantees the same health benefits as eating steamed vegetables. That’s just LYING. Receipts (they’re everywhere! There are always like ten of them in my purse). Plastic toys that talk. Missing the train by a minute. I get angry just thinking about that. But also–

I am angry that I ever feel bad about the way I look. It’s stupid. It’s pointless. It accomplishes nothing.

I can’t decide who I want to yell at more about this; myself, or the world. I think I may choose the world, since it’d be a lot more epic if it yelled back. Continue Reading »

I was homeschooled. I write it as one word. Always have. College was my first experience with formal schooling. It was a little jarring. I kept thinking, “Seriously? We have to raise our hands?” I know, that makes me sound like a freak.

I am a member of a tiny minority in this country. I did not ride a school bus. I did not sit in a classroom. In my world, there was no recess, no bell, no tests, no gym class, no APs, no prom, and no graduation. Ironically, there was no “homework.” Continue Reading »

Jamie Eats Cake

This is Jamie. She sent me this photo of herself with cake. You can tell how awesome she is. Her sister made the cake, and I wish her sister would make some for me. I also wish I had a sister, but that’s another story. Thanks so much, Jamie! Everyone: send me YOUR photo of yourself with cake! Cake power!

Maggie: When DON’T you care about how you look?

Kate: I told you I’d post about when I don’t feel self-conscious about my appearance. I already posted about when I do. Which is a lot of the time. Most of the time. But sometimes I don’t. and those times are really important to keep track of. Here’s the list. I didn’t have it prepared or anything– I’m making this up as I go. Continue Reading »

Maggie: What’s going on with you and that gym you mentioned?

Kate: Before I get into that, BIG NEWS! The Huffington Post just published an article of mine! CHECK IT OUT. Can you tell I’m excited? When I’m extremely excited I sit blank-faced at my computer and type entirely in capital letters. Welcome to the modern age. Now I can walk around referring casually to the “Huffpost” in an entitled tone. Like we’ve been close for a long time.

But here’s my answer:

So I’m officially a gym member. That’s right. I’ve joined up. It’s for real. And the membership comes with a few sessions with a personal trainer. I called to schedule that today, and the guy who picked up the phone was very friendly. He had some title like “Massively Muscular Personal Training Commander,” and he was obviously in charge. He said, “We’re so happy that you signed up with us! So, let’s talk a little bit about your goals.” Continue Reading »

oooh....pretty....

Hey! Time for the news. I’m bad at keeping up with this. Well, it’s raining just a tiny, tiny bit here in the city that never sleeps. It was a gorgeous day—most of which I missed due to staring at a computer screen. Ah, modern life! And by the way, the stores in my area close at 11:00. This, in my opinion, suspiciously resembles sleep. Obviously whoever gave NYC that little title never visited the Upper West Side in the evening. But without further ado… Continue Reading »

Maggie: Do you ever think about what you want to change about your appearance?

Kate: You’re talking to someone who got a nose job. So definitely, yes.

But it’s not just me. Everyone knows exactly what they’d change about themselves. Right? You know exactly what would make you look prettier. My list gets rearranged a lot. Mostly hair, arms, and nose are at the top. But sometimes, randomly, something like ankles or jaw will make a guest appearance. Then nose is like, “Seriously, ankles? What you got on me? I’m at the center of the face. You’re way the heck down there, like a million miles from the action. NOBODY CARES.” And ankles are like, “Dude, we make or break the sexy high heels. That’s gotta count for something.” Apparently my nose is male. Continue Reading »