Back with the streets I know.

So on Wednesday, I went and registered my truck in Oklahoma FINALLY. I've been trying to do that for about the last 8 months, but I never got around to it. There was an issue with the title, I couldn't provide proof of residency, the list went on and on. But finally, Wednesday, I walked into the Tag Agency, walked out with an Oklahoma plate and proclaimed my truck to be an official resident of Oklahoma.

Apparently. This angered the Gods. Someone did not want me to have an Oklahoma truck.

I left Oklahoma City at about 2:00 and got into Amarillo right around 6. I call my dad and he tells me that I might think about stopping, the roads are starting to get bad. Well, I decide to keep going, I-40 felt okay. I past Vega, Texas and saw a Days Inn, but still the roads were okay, no moisture was coming down. And then, out of nowhere, like a giant thunder clap, the road turned into a sheet of ice. I slowed down to about 30 and felt okay for about a mile. Then I saw a curved overpass with a bridge and I know, just from seeing it, that bridge was going to be trouble. My truck is terrible in bad weather; there's no weight in the back of it so it really doesn't take much for my day to be ruined. I kept it steady, got about halfway up and then a gust of wind grabbed ahold of the back end of my truck. I don't remember a lot; I think I just closed my eyes and screamed.

When the car stopped, I was in the median, my car was completely turned around and my bumper had smacked the guard rail for I-40 east-bound. I'm shaking, but I get out of the car and actually survey the damage to the guard rail before I survey the damage to my truck. My bumper was moved about 3 inches to the right. It looks like someone took a sledge hammer to my bumper and just knocked it a few times. After surveying the damage, I get back in my car and decide to turn it around, so it's actually facing the direction I want to go, turned off the engine and called my mom to try and figure out what exactly to do. There was no way my truck was going to make it out of the median. As soon as I say, "Hi Momma", I hear tires squeal behind me. I look in my rear view mirror and watch a Jeep slam right into my truck bed.

That moment, those three seconds, were the scariest thing I have ever experienced. I literally had a flash in my eyes. It wasn't any kind of white light, but it was just completely blinding. I'm sure it was every, single nerve ending and muscle I had screaming the tensing, but really, I saw something. And I'm quite glad I didn't have time to process what could have happened in the moment.

What did happen is still on the level of unspeakable. The right corner of my truck's bed is smashed in a good 3 feet. The other car had about the same amount of damage, but on the left side. I guess the funny part of the story is the wrecking company DROVE my truck, half-bed and all, to the salvage yard. My engine's totally fine. But seeing her like that, all smashed up, man, was that ever a heartbreaker. I didn't take any pictures. There's just some things you don't want to remember.

The guy who hit was actually an alright dude. I felt pretty bad for him; he'd just bought that Jeep on Sunday. The wrecking company gave us all a ride to the nearest motel, the very same Days Inn I had considered stopping at, and I spent a very snowy and sleepless night in Vega, Texas. Dad and brother Chase came in from Tucumcari and picked me up the next day and here I stay. It's been good to be here hanging out with siblings. It's been just the right amount of excitement and relaxation; I don't have much time to reflex about things but it's not stressful.

Tomorrow, I'll head into Pampa to see Grandma and other families. Then Dad'll drop me off at the Amarillo airport on Monday where I have a super-cheap Southwest flight back to Oklahoma City (the thought of being in a Greyhound for 5 hours with how much my neck hurts is just a bit much to compute right now) and I'll pick up a rental car at the airport. That is, if I can even get into Oklahoma City. You guys got some snow or something?

Insurance will be evaluating Joan Rivers the truck on Monday, hope for good things cuz there's no way this girl can afford a new car right now. I'm just trying to wrap my head around all of it right now. Lots of people have called me in the past few days and I must apologize because I'm sure I haven't been making much sense. It sort of feels like my brain is running on a check list. But I appreciate all of you. And if there's one thing that reminds you of how lucky you are and how good the people in your life are, it's a massive car wreck. So thanks, friends. And hey, Merry Christmas.

And I always will be.

I don't know how many of you have seen this holiday ad:


But this is pretty much the way me and my roommate feel about it:

Drink slow, drink slow.

Lake Hefner, meet Gertie. Gertie, meet Lake Hefner. Alright. See ya later.

Gertie-dog really did almost get thrown into Hefner today. Chelsey and I were officially the people with the embarrassing dog. Gertie was people-chasing and car-chasing and bike-chasing and barking at everything she could. We were seriously the people you go home and tell your family about. "Margie, today I was out for a lovely bicycle ride around Lake Hefner and there was this dog... well, actually it looked more like a dingo. And its owners? They just could NOT control it. It was terrible. I felt so sorry for them." Well dude, it's a 6 month old puppy at a lake with dozens of people around. She's gonna be pretty excited. AND WAS SHE EVER EXCITED.

Ever think about that? Just how often YOU'RE the subject of conversation at someone else's dinner? I used to think about it a lot more, when I was attracting a lot more attention (when I was holding a bit more metal in my skin). I guess it's sort of vain thing to think about, but I do that sort of stuff all the time. I'll constantly tell stories about funny or interesting people I saw earlier that day. I hope that somewhere, I'm a great story that someone tells when they need a good laugh. Sort of like the story I tell about the guy who tried to sell me fossils (or as I heard, possums) at the Mississippi state lane. It's sort of nice to be notorious.

I'd love a vacation. Something tells me my quickie trip home for Christmas just isn't going to cut it.

A home I could call my own.

Dudes, you just simply would not believe how big my dog is now. I guess it's to be expected, as she has officially crossed the 6 month mark (and with no lack of grace, mind you). She's so smart it literally almost kills me. I come close to cardiac arrest chasing her around the house when she knows it's time to go outside. True to her breed, she's a champ at herding me all over the place.

It's been cold here in the Ciudad (I'm starting a new thing, pay attention) and Gertie gets kicked out of the house during the day, so that she won't Gertiefy in here. You should see the zen garden she creates in the backyard. Point is, Santa Claus brought her a dog house for Christmas, as well as... a sweater. I've never been known to dress my dog. Annie had two articles of clothing: a rain jacket that Maria bought her which never stopped being funny to me, and a vampire cape I found at Walgreens for 99 cents. But, with it being so cold and Gertie having such short hair, it seemed like the right thing to do. I'll put it on her every morning before I leave from work and it's always off by the time Chelsey gets home. Who knows how she does it, but she's got it down to an art.

I'll stop talking about my dog after I tell you that Chelsey and I also bought her a name tag. after several intense conversations about what to actually put on the tag. We settled on, "Maybe the Gertie ate your baby!". I don't know if you've noticed, but we're actually raising a dingo. The tag makes me laugh every time I see it.


And since we're on the subject of wild animals...


"Oklahomans have enjoyed or cursed feral hogs in the southeast and eastern part of the state for several years. Although feral hogs are oftentimes considered free ranging livestock in these portions of the state, there are many pros and cons regarding their presence. Landowners, especially farmers, cringe at the thought of hogs becoming established in their part of the country. Many hunters, on the other hand, look forward to acquiring them on their favorite hunting grounds. To some hunters the hog represents a formidable trophy worthy of payment for hunting privileges. To some landowners, the combination of feral hogs and lease hunters makes having feral hogs on their property a bit easier to accept. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the feral hog will be around for a while, regardless of your opinion of them."

Alright. I pled ignorance on this, but feral hogs, razorbacks if you will, are real things. I remember working at the Capitol last winter and a certain representative pushing a piece of legislation called "The Feral Hog Control Act". I pretty much thought that was the funniest thing I'd ever heard. Like, really dudes? Little piglets trampling your corn? Poor southern New Mexican farmers. So then, I come to Oklahoma and I'm reading some new legislation that's about to take effect (actually trying to find information on this excuse for legislation) and what do I come across? "HB 2158 lets hunting businesses hire an airborne feral-hog sharpshooter."

So...

Let's just break this down. The state of Oklahoma adopted legislation that authorizes sharpshooters in helicopters shoot feral hogs. "House members voted 87-12 for a bill that authorizes the state Department of Agriculture to issue permits to property owners who already have a big game commercial hunting area license to manage "depredating animals,'' such as feral hogs." All you need is a license, some buck shot, a helicopter and it's huntin' season, y'all.

Naturally, hilarity continues. Until I start google-ing "feral hogs".


and this is the first image that comes up.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME.

The average weight of feral swine is 100 to 150 pounds, but depending on the region can obtain sizes in excess of 600 lbs. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. You're telling me there are pigs that can weigh 600 pounds? And I live on the same continent as them? Not cool. It's bad enough knowing how many alpacas there are in South America and just how easily they could just march on up here and destroy my life. But NO. Razorbacks are knocking on my bedroom window. I seriously just thought a "razorback" was just a silly mascot thing, like Lobo Louie. Or a unicorn. But. No. They're real. And they're here. And I live in a state where people can shoot them from helicopters. I guess that makes me feel safer?

I had a dream last night that feral hogs got into the condo by CHEWING THROUGH THE GLASS and ate all the food we had in the fridge. Chelsey screamed something about finding a helicopter and we both ran outside, except we were instantly downtown and feral hogs were running and squealing everywhere, and there were hundreds of helicopters flying overhead.

Safe to say, I've got a new phobia. And out, New Mexico, they're coming for ya.


And on the note of downtown OKC, I went to the Cuidad's (starting it) Museum of Art a few days back, which houses one of the largest Dale Chihuly collections in the country. Normally I could take or leave blown glass, but that stuff was pretty rad. I especially liked the anemones, because, well, I like anemones.

I also liked the museum because it was very much the sort of place were talking was embraced. So, so many museums you walk into and feel like you need to shut up, but coversations were all over that place. And even though I wasn't an active participant, I very much enjoyed the active space.


Other than wild beasts (Gertie included), life's been running pretty steady. Chelsey and I have been very much enjoying alcohol-induced testimonials on photobooth. Don't be surprised if we make you a video one of these nights, whoever you are. Words cannot express my gratitude over having such a fantastic roommate.

I like my job pretty alright; it keeps me quite busy. But I've been really good about not letting it stress me out and everytime I start to feel overwhelmed, I completely stop whatever I'm doing and let myself have an hour to get organized. This is helpful. It also wastes an insane amount of post-its.

My holiday plans are as follows: I'm leaving here on the 23rd, spending the Eve with Momma, driving to Tucumcari on the 25th to see Dad, heading to Pampa with Dad and co on the 26th, and I'll be back here on the 27th. Happy holidays, have a car ride. Not that I've ever minded that. I'm trying to plan a week to visit home sometime in January or early February.

In sports-related news, I wish the Habs would win some more games and I hope that both OU and OSU win their bowl games, because you can seriously feel football-related depression around here.

But the eatin' sure is tasty.


Oklahoma: Best place to be hungover since 1907.

I <3 TO FEST.

Ten Fun Facts about The Fest! (and my trip across the South.)

1. Alabama is freaking terrifying at 4:00am.
2. Florida is 80 degrees in October and also 95% humidity all the time. Be still, my beating heart. No really, calm down Cat, stop panting.
3. The Fest is just as much ruckus as you've read it to be. I saw random pairs of underwear on sidewalks.
4. That said, it's really a brotherhood. If you pass out on the street (which I did not!), someone will always pick you up and help you out.
5. And that being said, the male:female ratio is about 9:1. I dunno, something about dudes liking bands that sound like Hot Water Music? And more so, the ratio of attractive males with beards and good tattoos:unattractive males is about 9:1. ONCE AGAIN, be still, my beating heart. (Such a stereotypical "girl who went to Fest" statement, but like I care.)
6. PBR tall boys are $2 everywhere you go.
7. Music never stops. There are warehouse shows, house shows, acoustic stuff in hotels until bars open the next day.
8. More cities need this. I know it's convenient in Gainesville with No Idea, but seriously. It's a great showcase for local venues and lesser known bands, but also a huge money maker for a city that normally doesn't make much on Halloween weekend because of the Florida/Georgia game being at a neutral site out of town.
9. I took VERY FEW pictures of actual music. The amount of people running around with D-80's and waving some sort of press pass was gross. I'm sorry, responsible press doesn't stand ON the stage WITH the band to take pictures. That's my one complaint.
10. I went to Graceland on the back, fulfilling a life-long dream. The staff told us awesome stories about Elvis and his buddies riding the horses and golf carts all over the property. I AM SURE THIS HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH NARCOTICS.
BONUS FACT. I had the most fun Halloween in my life history with the holiday. I'll be back next year.

And now, 10 fun fotos!


I repeat: Alabama's terrifying at 4:00am. We drove right by Talladega, or as Matt called, "Burning Man for rednecks".


Georgia.


Matt McHughes carries a man purse when he needs to distribute CDs.


Someone in this photo is drunk and someone else is high. TAKE A GUESS.


Jerry Jump is the best person on the planet.


Oh HELLS yes.


The amount of mirrors in Graceland is ridiculous. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH NARCOTICS. This is me and Jerry creeping some floral arrangements. See the corner for bonus Matt.


That monkey creeps me out. And I really like monkeys. But not that one.


ONCE AGAIN. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH NARCOTICS.


The amount of records and awards in that place would make Bono pee his pants.

And for that actual life-thing, I start work tomorrow. Dreading it, since I picked up some sort of Fest flu. But I normally feel this way before going back to work. And once I get back into the swing of things, I feel so much better than I did when I was unemployed.

I need a tie that says Satan.

Good news! I got a job. Bad news, it's temporary again. But this time, it'll be for about four months.

BEST NEWS! The Fest in 48 hours.

I love the ocean.

Today I:

Woke up with Gertie at 8:00am. And since she didn't want to go back to sleep, I watched a whole lot of Gilmore Girls.
Ate some Ramen.
Applied for some jobs.
Ate some toast.
Saw a kid fall of his scooter. Proceeded to laugh for a good 10 minutes. (Chelsey: "You should never have children.")
Took Gertie to the dog park. She was really excited about it. Please see the following image:

Ate Moroccan food at the Cous Cous Cafe, located within walking distance of the condo. Man, was it ever tasty.
Went to see Paranormal Activity and had a brilliant time suspending my disbelief and wanting to cry with fear.
TOTALLY saw someone getting road head at a stoplight on the way home. They weren't even trying to hide it.
Watched some Iron Chef.
Drank some tea.

And that brings you up to the current.

See, lately my days go a lot like this (well, minus the road head part...) where nothing too thrilling happens but I manage to have some fun. And when life's moving that slow, it makes blogging feel like running through mud. Really dudes, who wants to hear about the 20-millionth job application I submitted today? No one, that's who. And with facebook/twitter, it seems my exploits are well-documented on the internets. Makes me think that the actual blog might be quietly retiring and dying.

Oh, don't worry, I'll still come around. Me and about 5 thousand other people are headed east this weekend to Gainesville, Florida for The Fest. I plan on seeing about 100 good bands, drinking about 100 PBR's and spending about 40 hours in a car with Matt McHughes and his beard. I cannot think of a finer way to spend Halloween, especially after surviving two years of seasonal retail. It's the sort of event I think I might need another memory card for.

I can tell you this: While life's been somewhat bleak lately, drowning in a sea of unemployment and such, my trip home and the week or so after it have really opened my eyes. And what do I see, my friends? Just the slightest glimmers of hope coming through, and from the most unexpected of sources. Something tells me a weekend in a place I've never been to, surrounded by great music and complete madness will only wake me up more. Can't wait.

The faces, hands that I'm haunted by.

Home in 10 images.

Back up.

And continuing in tradition of positive blog postings...

People have the most creative names for wireless networks.

(It's important to note that my condo's network is "Ham is Good")

And please for you to meet Esteban, new friends Adam and Erica's cat. Most cats really do like having the base of their tail scratched, this is no secret. Esteban however, takes it to another level.


Humor's important.

Better off.

You know, I could post about the trials and tribulations of finding a job, just how poor I am or other assorted less-than-fun items on rotation in my life-space. But I decided to go with this instead:

I'm just tired of waking up.

Maria: "Dude, Robert Downey Jr. is at my work."
Cat: "SHUT THE EFF UP. Go meet him."
Maria: "I can't. They are making arm casts for him for a movie he is filming... he's tiny."
Cat: "He has to wear tall shoes a lot, I read. I'd still do him."
Maria: "Like tiny tiny. I would break him in half."
Cat: "Destroy my fantasy, why don't you?"
Maria: "You could throw him around, make it a NEW fantasy."

Who's gonna drive you home tonight?

If you were wondering how Gertie's doing...

She's officially the size of a butterball turkey, a 14 pounder. About 12 pounds of that is cuteness and adorability, but those other two pounds of biting and crazy can sometimes outweigh the rest. But this is what a 4 month old puppy does, right?


Her biggest act of terrorism is definitely what she's done to the wicker love seat in the backyard. She's torn off the bottom part of it, but it's alright. Chelsey likes the way it looks now a little more.

Potty training is mostly successful. She has a few accidents a week, but nothing compared to most puppies I know. She's quickly approaching her 4 month birthday and she'll be getting spayed on October 1st. She's growing up so quick. I'm a little excited about it, to not have the chaos of a baby in the house, but I know I'll miss it once it's gone.

Chelsey and I are watching the MTV Video Music Awards right now, dissing on Kayne and loving on Taylor & Beyonce. The preview for Eminem's spng "We Made You" came on and Gertie started barking. Chelsey said, "That's right Gertie. It's a horrible song. It'll be over soon." Pretty classic.

So, I'm unemployed again. The temporary job, which I thought could make room for something more permanent, couldn't. Back to the couch once more, watching Maury. I am absolutely dreading the job search, but I'm trying to be positive and starting slow. I think applying for a job a day is reasonable. (I applied for 3 today.)

On top of job search, I'm taking an active interest in living better. Recently, things have just felt much more intense than usual. I have days where I'm just so excited about the options in front of me, it's overwhelming. And some days, I miss home so bad I can barely take it. Pretty sure that's just the reality sinking in. But something in that has made me want to get healthy. Chelsey got a bit of a scare when she got some blood work back this week, so her and I are starting a diet as recommended by her sister the nutritionist. I'm also getting back into the swing of exercising with taking Gertie for walks. She's starting to get excited about them, which is great motivation for me to do it. On top of that, I've been doing yoga in the mornings. I'm trying not to think about it in terms of weight loss, but it terms of wellness.

Hey, Jim Carroll died. If you love Rancid and the album ... And Out Come the Wolves you should be pretty sad.


On the east side of Oklahoma City, there are these huge towers. I'm not sure what they're for, probably radio, but they blink red all the way to the top at night. So instead of the Sandias, I get to use these as my guide. When I tell people back in New Mexico about them, they think it's sort of ugly and awful. But I don't know, I think I'm finding poetry in the symmetry.

Watching tail lights disappear.

Oklahoma's downright enchanting to me these days. The air's getting colder, the sun's setting earlier and I can finally get away with wearing a hoodie in the mornings. Fall in New Mexico is sort of like a week-long change, it's like one day you wake up and it's officially Fall. Oklahoma eases into its seasons and for some reason, it's absolutely intoxicating for me. I've been doing lots of driving with my window down, with ruins my hair since I need a haircut pretty badly, but I'm not really here to impress anyone.

On that note, Labor Day weekend was splendid, at least compared to Memorial Day. One things for sure, I ate like a champ. Sunday night, I went to Tyler and Laura's wedding shower and there was so much food, I might have gotten a little sick. But it was all so good! Other friend Murf moved just down the street and invited me and Chelsey over for chili potatoes tonight. It's been a long time since I've eaten so well, I've been on a mac n cheese/ramen budget these days.

Digital trinkets:



One thing's certain, this is Chelsey's pose of choice when the camera comes out at Edna's.


After the wedding shower, Tyler and Laura headed out with Laura's school mate Sa to a White Party, since you know, Sunday was the last day you can wear white. It got pretty intense and we bailed early, but we dressed for the occasion.

Purple hung so low to the ground.

I grew up around the Kennedys. I think one of the first "adult" books I read was a biography of JFK. I spent hours flipping through a photo book of Jackie Kennedy. I was always fixated on them, the idea of this perfect American family; such history, such tradition. While most 9 year girls I knew wanted to be Toni Braxton or Whitney Houston, I wanted to be a Kennedy.

The Kennedys are the reason I fell in love with politics. I wanted to understand them and that meant understanding politics. Mom & Dad set up the framework, sure, but what actually got me there was having a face to match. And I really do love politics. So much so, that when I was asked to work a Senator, regardless of much that Senator's political affiliation didn't match mine, I still felt a sense of duty to it; this was a chance for me, little old me, to make even a hair of difference, like the people I had read about. In fact, I don't think I can find myself happy in a job that doesn't include public service.

So, when the last member of the triumvirate joined his brothers, I got a tad emotional. It really is the end of an era.

And on a much less serious note...


Possums.

Chelsey saw one in the backyard about a week ago. Possums are things of foreign myth to this New Mexican and I'm very, very excited to spot one on my own. Chelsey tells me that they are very nasty creatures (evidence above). I'd still like to pet one.

If that scared you, I'll make up for it with adorable pictures of my wonderdog taking a bath and jumping on the couch. Proud parent, am I.

We must run.

I've been going through old pictures lately, getting new computers set up and such. This one really struck me; the only thing I could think of when I saw it was, "God. I really miss that girl." Not that things are horrible now, not that things were great then, I guess I'm having a little difficulty identifying with the former versions of myself. Sometimes, I see my life in blocks instead of a line.

If that makes any sense.

Let's go shut it down.

We decided the puppy needed a super Oklahoma name, since she's an Okie at heart (although, me and Chelsey have decided to teach her commands in Spanish and Latin, as well as plain English). We thought and thought about what to call her. We looked through lists of local Oklahoma celebrities, famous western cowgirls, street names, counties... pretty much anything. And then it sort of hit us like a brick.


Oklahoma, the Musical.

We named her Gertie Cummins. She's like the Janice of the musical. We picked it because we liked the sound of it, and now, more and more, she's exhibiting such Gertie-like characteristics. She's a loud mouth, and she MUST be the center of attention. But, what 10 week old puppy doesn't?

She's such a puppy. She loves her toys so much. And she bites feet like she's trying to herd people together. We took her to Lake Hefner the other night and she ran right into the water. She's absolutely fearless, unless it involves cars, and that's a phobia I'm glad she has. She'll ride in them just fine, but when it comes to walking next to them, she's ridden with anxiety.

It's exhausting, watching her every move. But I love the little pile of cuddle and urine. And she loves us too. I feel like a mommyblogger right now. And I worry that one day, Gertie will say, "Mom, why did you post pictures of my butt on the internet?". But until then, puppy pictures GALORE on this page of the internet.

But did you notice anything about the photo quality in that last picture? Like it might have possibly been taken in Photobooth?


It was.

I'm now the proud owner of not one, but TWO new Apples. Excessive? Oh, I tend to agree, but logically, it works out. Laptop's for when I start school again and the many traveling adventures I plan on taking in the next few years. Desktop's for storage and various creative projects. Dudes, after YEARS of absense, Final Cut Pro is up and working again. Remember when I pierced all of you for a stop motion movie that I never made? Well, now I shall make it!

It's very, very exciting to have a massive, new creative outlet again. And to have a laptop with a working "S" key that can run more than one application at a time. And on top of all of that, a puppy too. Life is new, new, new and full of stuff, stuff, stuff. But quite honestly, life feels a little like a Danny Winn song. If you know what I mean.

Job-stuff is still questionable. What I've got is only temporary and I interviewed for permanent on Friday. However, the state of Oklahoma has awesome merit tests and if you don't test high enough, you're out of the game. So, even though the supervisors love me and I'm super-good at my job, I probably won't get it. We shall see, though. If not, I'll probably start substitute teaching. And won't that be an adventure in blogging!

Finally!

Hello.


Someone very, very mean left me in an alley last night. Luckily, a very nice lady who owns a local gallery found me and my siblings, took us to a vet and found us new homes. My new home is with two ladies in a fancy condo. So far, I like it. I already know where my food bowl is and that if I beg for food, I won't get it. I also tuck my tail between my legs when I eat. I have no idea why I do that.


I have no idea why I do that. But most importantly, I need a name. If my naming is left up to my mother Cat, she'll name me Gihad or Martha 'Grab my balls' Washington in Full Effect. Save me from such a fate.