oh, I get it now

Jon Gosselin, if this is your "come hither" look...then I get it. And I don't blame Kate.






















Actually, I still don't get it, but it's like getting a "5" in the sun-stare...I just can't stop looking on in horror. I'm going to do my best to continue on about my business and pretend I never saw this. Okay go.

ht: dlisted for picture

• 10-day forecast suggests that we won't get out of the 70's. This makes me happy. I love this early autumn. However a few of the trees up north are already beginning to turn. This is crazy. Crazy amazing.
• The windows in our bedroom are open and it will be nice and cool/cold when I finally slip inbetween our clean sheets. Of course I've been procrastinating on my paper so that glorious moment may indeed be a long time coming.
• I'm currently holed up at my kitchen table, hoodie sweatshirt helping my tunnel vision and and Wilco playing in my earbuds. This exegesis paper is in my sights...even with the muddy instructions. I have yet to have an exegesis paper due that gets aligned in the same way as any of mine did in undergrad. I suppose it is okay, it strengthens my writing skills and ability to think critically. Although I spent so much time working on that technique thinking it would serve me well in life. Not to be, apparently.
• Made some homemade salsa today. It's nothing spectacular, but a great way to use up the remaining tomatoes from our CSA. Pretty tasty but not perfect.
• We are going to the fair this week. Yay for an abundance of food we shouldn't eat!
• Okay, no more procrastinating. I've got to finish this paper up.
  

(500) Days of Summer

It's been a busy weekend. Between draft orders, Rob Bell (yes mom, I saw him.) and seeing (500) Days of Summer...well, I've been busy with Dan out of town.

And, as I wait for my iMovie to load and me to begin attempting to email and save it so that I can bring it with me to church tomorrow, I was struck by one scene in particular from the film. All of (500) is this achingly honest romantic dramadie, packaged with a neat little soundtrack to find it's home in any hipsters or yuppie's film collection. The non-linear film follows the length, demise, and mutual rebuilding of a relationship between two characters. After a breakup, and time apart, the two find themselves at a wedding. Dancing and drinking ensues. Shortly thereafter he (still in love with her, despite the breakup) and her (no longer interested in a relationship) end up back on the train, heading back home. Friendship rekindled, feelings that he had been beginning to put aside all aflame. Her head sleeping on his shoulder. And him, not wanting to move, to wreck the moment of what was...knowing that when the ride ends, when she awakes the illusion is shattered.

The fear that reality is so difficult, so painful, to deal with in that moment that you would rather let the illusion of intimacy, connection and relationship continue. Just for a minute. Exquisite agony. I've been there. Many of us have been there. And, in that moment, we as a theater were connected in that pain and longing. The tears you want to weep with joy (at something rekindled) and heartbreak (knowing it's fleeting).

Open Letter to Project Runway All-Stars

Dear Jeffery,
A porn-stache? Really? I guess you can rock the 70's porn-star look....if you must. Oh, and an attitude to match? Swell.

Under duress,
Kate
----------
Dear Daniel Vosovic,
You are looking great with the shorter hair. I'm so glad you're back. That's all.

Adoringly,
Kate
----------
Dear Uli,
I want to see prints. PRINTS. AND DRESSES. Amen sister friend. Bring. It.

Woot,
Kate
----------
Dear Tim Gunn,
You encourage me to "make it work" on a daily basis. You = fabulous.

:)
Kate

Open Letter

Dear Tom, Padma and Gail:

I'm so glad you're back. I've missed you all. Gael Greene and crazy hat collection doesn't have anything on you. I'm ready for the season -- all the tattoos, crazy scarf guy and sexist pig. Thanks.

Smooches,
Kate

PS -- thank you for sending creepy earlobe girl home. These odd things look all the more scarier on our large television.

Open Letter

Dear Jon Gosselin,

I want to preface this letter by reminding you that I used to be on your team. I saw Kate emmasculate you, belittle you, hit you ("lovingly"), move away from you on your "uncomfortable" couch and generally shrivel up and die whenever you opened your mouth or, as we infamously saw, breathed too loudly. So, know that I came here today from a former position of being "team-jon."

You were great with the kids, gave little preferential treatment, had family still involved in your lives (all of that devotion to your mother...but I digress) and you seemed to enjoy the dogs -- all signs that you were the healthier of the two parents. You were the one (remember?) who wanted to stay out of the spotlight, and seemed unsure of this new-found celeb-reality. You even said that you were afraid what your kids would find when they googled you one day.

Which is why I don't appreciate how you've played me (and the 3 million other viewers...although by Monday you may be down to 2.7 million...the numbers keep dropping). You say that you don't want to be filmed -- so you are reportedly pitching the "Divorced Dad" reality show with Michael Lohan. (C'mon Jon, look at his kids. Look at your kids. Do you really want 8 Lindsay Lohans running around the compound? Think about it.) You say that you want out of the spotlight, so you host the Wet Republic party this weekend? You are afraid of what your kids will find when they google you, so you bed women who freely sell their stories to online and print tabloids? Slap a gag order on those hussies. You said that you wanted to find yourself, to figure out who you were....you had a sense that you lost that. Jon, that generally calls for introspection, a return to values and some time alone or with those with your best interests at heart. Not TLC producers, women into "fixing" you or having your fleeting "fame" "fix" them.

And perhaps worst of all, you're doing it for the kids. To which I must say, what did they do to deserve this? They may have an attentive and loving dad present when they are awake during your custody hours (note: providing custody is not synonymous with flirting with the babysitter) but your actions and attitude during their sleeping hours and how you behave when you are "off camera" will catch up with you and with them.

And that's the thing, Jon. It all comes to light in the end. Your marriage facade came to light faster than you expected. Your relationships came to light. It will all come to light. And your behavior is making Kate look good by comparison (I know, I'm shocked too). And, if that's the point -- then that will come out in the end as well. You don't have to answer to me, but someday you will have to answer to your kids. So, do as I am doing (and have been doing since you returned from hiatus) -- just say no.

Sincerely,
Kate
(not your soon-to-be ex-wife)
(not your one night stand)
(just, like your children, an innocent bystander)

Tonight You Get...Micellanea

• So many webpages I log into these days end with /home. Does this say anything meaningful about our society's current unrootedness and inward desire to find a home, place, space to be known? Probably not, but it floated through my head.
• If I had unlimited funds, I would probably spend my time traveling, eating and going to movies. Especially when I know that Julie and Julia, 500 Days of Summer, Paper Heart and District 9 are all out in theaters. We'll get them on Netflix and it will be good, but there is something about connecting with the collective subconscious during story-telling in movie theaters that makes it an experience...rather than mere entertainment. I saw a lot of entertainment in high school and college.
  
• My body is exhausted. Trolling around the twin cities in the hot sun with junior highers does that to a body. My mind, however, is loving my textbook for my gospels class and (as much as I try to compartmentalize) I am awash with dreams for the fall. I meant to go to bed 30 minutes ago and got distracted. Now, I am sending myself to sleep with my journal to pin down the final strains of thought clouds and to hopefully get a good 7.5 hours before church and Rock the River tomorrow. But first...
• I got hugged by a frog. The 13 year old me would have LOVED this.