tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51914122011-08-27T08:37:51.129-07:00<b>A Katherine Turner Production</b>Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.comBlogger771100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1103247902615637702004-12-16T17:42:00.000-08:002004-12-16T17:48:31.470-08:00

You may or may not have noticed, but there is a Linda in every office. An ‘Office Linda’ if you will. Office Lindas can be recognized by several telltale signs. First and foremost, they are named Linda. Although some Office Lindas go by aliases to confuse and disorient us (Patty is a well known Linda AKA), the majority wear their Linda-ness openly, defying us to decry them as the Lindas

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com308tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1100828568090647912004-11-18T17:08:00.000-08:002004-11-18T17:42:48.090-08:00

I am legally prevented from writing about my job without express premission from the Secretary of State. Therefore, in order to say anything about it, I would first have to call Condoleeza Rice on the phone and say, "Yo Beayatch, are you down with a little bloggin'?" I shall therefore not write about my current job. I shall instead write about a fictional job that I do not currently hold.

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1100826478204751992004-11-18T16:54:00.000-08:002004-11-18T17:07:58.203-08:00

When captain Horatio Hornblower, from CS Forrester's fine maritime series, felt the need to say something effusive or revealing, he would instead clear his throat and keep to himself. In response to Joe's viscious, naughty and altogether humbling rant about both writing and my person, I shall clear my throat. Ahem. But instead of remaining silent, I shall proceed to be effusive and revealing.

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1090018507536429772004-07-16T15:52:00.000-07:002004-07-16T15:55:07.536-07:00

Roomba Rescue   First told in 2006 by the cousin of a friend of the woman this happened to.   So this woman, in her mid thirties, she lived alone in a one bedroom apartment with a couple of cats.  She liked to keep the place tidy, but hated sweeping three times a week to keep the cat hair down.  So she decided to buy herself one of those little robotic vacuum cleaners… a Roomba.  I don’t know

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1089849480437488672004-07-14T15:57:00.000-07:002004-07-16T15:58:00.053-07:00

Of course, I'd heard of Roombas. I'd seen cartoons spoofing Roombas. I'd heard people talking about Roombas the same way people talked about digi-pets and robot dogs that were so hot in the late 90's and early 00's respectively. I have even seen one in the flesh, sitting like a dumpy Frisbee on a vacuum display at The Bon. But I have not, until today, desired a Roomba. Then I learned some FACTS:

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1089673650704867982004-07-12T16:06:00.000-07:002004-07-12T16:07:30.706-07:00

Since the founding of the United States, one thing has kept our great shores safe for freedom, free for democracy and democratic for the electoral college… our brave Oceans. Atlantic and Pacific, these brave and selfless young bodies of water have done more to repel the forces of tyranny from our purple majestic mountains than all the armed forces in all American history. Spanning hundreds of

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1089130190640485022004-07-06T09:08:00.000-07:002004-07-06T09:13:31.396-07:00

I'm not telling you anything new when I say that making resolutions is easy and keeping them is hard; but sometimes circumstances make resolutions easier. This is unusual, as circumstances are frequently cited as the monkey-wrenchers: my job is really hectic this week, things have been crazy at home this week, I didn't mean to break the pretty lady's neck this week. Circumstances make the

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1088209772386245122004-06-25T17:26:00.000-07:002004-06-25T17:29:32.386-07:00

Listening to an unabridged audiobook of Of Mice and Men may cause the user to burst suddenly and uncontrollably into tears, especially when George tells Lenny (sniff) about the rabbits and Lenny is SO happy because he’s all innocent (sniff) and you just know that George loves him so he tells him about the rabbits again cause he knows that Lenny didn’t MEAN to kill the pretty lady and the pup and

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1087753269135318472004-06-20T10:25:00.000-07:002004-06-20T10:41:09.136-07:00

I'm an atheist, you might have noticed. This doesn't mean I don't like talking about god, God, Gods, Goddesses and so forth. I usually approach such talks in the same spirit as I discuss Buffy The Vampire Slayer: as an involving and exciting fiction. I can get very excited about Buffy. So with this in mind, I'd like to direct you to a post on Joe's website, Labyrinth of Meat Coils. I'm

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1087748132353751262004-06-20T09:11:00.000-07:002004-06-20T09:15:32.353-07:00

One reason I haven't posted here in a long while is because my old blog template didn't seem to work with the new blogger software. So I've gone back to one of thier pre-made templates. Not overly flashy, but it works. I'll be better, I promise.

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1083889101155538682004-05-06T17:18:00.000-07:002004-05-06T17:31:55.076-07:00

Dateline, Iraq: After months of whispered accusations, last week CBS news confirmed that some of the soldiers sent to the Middle East to slay large numbers of Iraqis have since gone on to torture and humiliate them as well. This shocking discovery has sent shockwaves of shock through both the Arab world and the ten percent of Americans who care about such things. Photos and eyewitness accounts

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1083634412368020342004-05-03T18:33:00.000-07:002004-05-03T18:37:30.576-07:00

I found this site on Metafilter a couple of weeks ago. To quote from the site: "A camera, alone in the world. Each Randompixel camera was given to a stranger. Stickers on the camera instruct the recipient to take a few pictures and pass it along. When the camera is done, it is dropped in the mail, it returns home, and the pictures are posted here." So today I went to Randompixel. The camera,

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1082501467224534762004-04-20T15:51:00.000-07:002004-04-20T15:55:06.390-07:00

I took a walk down by the waterfront. The sun shone. A persistent, gentle breeze cleared the air. I stayed out for a few hours until my legs began to sting from sunburn. I returned home and opened my door. When I stepped inside, I paused, my nose crinkled in distaste. This is what my apartment smells like?

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1080083908706704282004-03-23T15:18:00.000-08:002004-03-23T15:23:24.200-08:00

Immigrate or Emigrate? “Like so many Americans…” I’m tired of writing that phrase. I don’t want to be like so many Americans. To this end, I am looking toward immigrating to England. England is just a destination, shorthand for ‘anywhere but here.’ They speak English (or so I’m told), have national healthcare, itty bitty cars and weather similar to Seattle. ‘So many Americans’ don’t live

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1079724099031799432004-03-19T11:21:00.000-08:002004-03-19T11:34:28.856-08:00

On the Disposal of the One Ring and The Great Religious Icons Frodo redeemed all of Middle Earth by slogging from the Shire to Mordor, bearing the Ring like a small, round cross. Love motivated him and kept him moving even past all hope: love of friends, family, all things green and, or course, Sam. Because he was ordinary, and moved by love (as opposed to Mister Blood and Destiny, Aragorn) he

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1079628477454794572004-03-18T08:47:00.000-08:002004-03-18T08:51:16.013-08:00

Portent(?) Today I stopped by the grocery store on my way to work. It was mostly empty, aside from a few chipper (and otherwise) employees. After handing me my ten dollars cash back, the pudgy, middle aged cash register jockey said unto me: "Don't get blown away out there, beware the Ides of March." She then walked away and disappeared behind a rack of chocolate cakes. I felt like a

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1079566834784156192004-03-17T15:40:00.000-08:002004-03-18T08:55:47.950-08:00

Review of Dawn of the Dead Fast zombies are controversial… not in the same way as late term abortions are controversial, but among horror aficionados, the debate rages: can zombies run? As a devout liberal (with libertarian leanings) I say that whatever makes the zombies happy should be allowed. They seem to want to run, run free and bloody, and I say huzzah. Kinetic zombies are also a

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1079240920291284132004-03-13T21:08:00.000-08:002004-03-13T21:11:49.390-08:00

Which is More Depressing? Schindler’s List or Bridget Jones’s Diary: A Comparison Schindler’s List is a movie about man’s infinite capacity for hatred and cruelty; and how one race of people, motivated by prejudice, wiped out twelve million souls, leaving pain and misery in the vacuum. Bridget Jones’s Diary is about one woman in her thirties who is dissatisfied with her job, her weight and

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1079135647175110732004-03-12T15:54:00.000-08:002004-03-12T16:10:39.436-08:00

Smarvelous I work eight hours a day surrounded by screaming germ bags and their idiot parents. It is hollow, repetitive and boring, punctuated by periods of tear-your-hair-out madness. I'm bored with this life, and I'm sure you don't want to hear about it. Therefore, I'm going to write a fictional entry about my fabulous, glamorous life (a la Sex in the City): Today, I woke up later than

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1077924868711992132004-02-27T15:34:00.000-08:002004-02-27T16:54:07.140-08:00

A Little Knowledge Too Late My current temp assignment is at the reception desk of a Children's Clinic. The woman whom I share this job with, takes an inordinate amount of interest in my lunch. What did I bring, where will I eat out, did I enjoy my lunch... I realize this is just simple friendliness, but I find it disconcerting. Today, I brought no lunch and was considering the greasy,

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1077128491667944312004-02-18T10:21:00.000-08:002004-02-18T10:24:08.280-08:00

Another Thought About 30 In Logan's Run, everyone had red crystals in thier hands. When they turned 29, the crystals would start to blink. When you turned 30, it would turn black and the super computer that controlled your life forced you to put on a red and white unitard and a mask that kind of made you look like an Imperial Stormtrooper. Then they'd send you to Carousel... a big arena where

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1077049951123870762004-02-17T12:32:00.000-08:002004-02-17T12:39:54.920-08:00

Meanwhile, in the Secret Underground Headquarters of Fox... A network executive pitched a new show: He smiled and stood up from his chair, his hair shining in the fluorescent light, his Armani suit immaculately pressed. "This show is called The Littlest Groom... it's just like The Bachelor, but with MIDGETS. Cause midgets are FUNNY." Even as the word 'funny' passed his lips, the room began

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1076373080259253722004-02-09T16:31:00.000-08:002004-02-09T16:33:45.076-08:00

30 I’m 30. And I’m thinking of what that actually means in the context of the human lifespan. Two centuries ago, when the average lifespan was 60, I would be middle aged. However, given a steady advance in medical technology over the course of my lifetime, I can reasonably expect to live to 90… I am therefore only one third of the way through my life. Perhaps medical advancements will be

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1074117728464038512004-01-14T14:02:00.000-08:002004-01-14T14:03:59.233-08:00

Underwear I am often confused by my underwear. It sits in a drawer, in a pile, some black, some white, some token minorities in shades of lavender and red. The pile daunts me. I reach in and draw out a pair, and I never know what I’ll find waiting in my hands. Will they be French cut? Bikini cut? Perhaps the tag will be on the inside over the butt, or maybe inside the hip. Maybe, the tag

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1073065652640082004-01-02T09:47:00.000-08:002004-01-02T09:49:06.700-08:00

Write, Damnit It is the second of January, and I already feel like the year is slipping away. There are so many DVDs to watch, games to play, things to eat... all those things I shouldn't do, for they are sinful and bad. I have work to do, and sloth is unbecoming of someone who wants to become a professional novelist. So what's wrong with me? It's concievable that my lack of Puritanical work

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1072198110588741522003-12-23T08:48:00.000-08:002003-12-23T08:49:51.436-08:00

Notes from 30,000 feet As I write this, I’m flying in a Boeing 737 on my way to Sacramento to see me mum for Christmas. I cannot resist of course, making a few observations about air travel while I’m here. I wonder, will I get in trouble if I type the word “terrorist?� “Bomb?� “Big, fiery explosion with many, many body parts and death to the infidels?� One can’t help

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1071796146047353342003-12-18T17:09:00.000-08:002003-12-18T17:10:21.310-08:00

Gifting It's that time again. Time for me to wring my hands and worry: who am I obligated to give presents to this year? And what presents should I give people, seeing as I'm unemployed and running out of old, hand made pottery? The first question has everything to do with who, to my knowledge, is giving ME presents. Not including my mom, if I am given a present, I must give one in return

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1070781098551636052003-12-06T23:11:00.000-08:002003-12-06T23:12:38.296-08:00

Skanky Claus The dirty, drunk homeless Department Store Santa has become a cliché, an urban legend who’s verisimilitude is brought into question by the legions of rosy cheeked, well fed, jolly old fat men who don Saint Nick’s raiment every year to delight and terrify children all across the country. I am here to tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that the legend is true. Don’t believe the

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1069956480796971982003-11-27T10:08:00.000-08:002003-11-27T10:08:48.060-08:00

My Goddamn Train I guess it must be two years ago now, I was hired by the Bon Marché (aka BonMacy*s) to schlep office furniture and banquet tables from one end of this god forsaken building to the other. That didn’t last long. Not because I’m a dilettante who’s unused to hard work, but because they found a better use for me painting and building fashion show sets. That lasted a great deal

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1069956411373987952003-11-27T10:06:00.000-08:002003-11-27T10:07:38.653-08:00

Proud Member of the American American-American Association Cartographically, America is divided into North and South: two separate continents among the world’s big seven, despite the fact that they are contiguous, or were so before Teddy Roosevelt cut the umbilical through Panama. Linguistically, we divide America into three units: North, Central and South America. Ideologically, the people of

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1068144921821104872003-11-06T10:55:00.000-08:002003-11-06T10:55:40.763-08:00

Why I Want to be a Life Coach Apparently, there are people in the world… they work at Microsoft most of them… who make six figures and yet feel dissatisfaction. Who knew? Maybe they can’t get their teeth that extra shade of white, or worse, they didn’t even know that their teeth aren’t white enough. A Life Coach tells them that they need their teeth whitened. A Life Coach takes them shopping

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1067463542255309962003-10-29T13:39:00.000-08:002003-11-06T11:03:26.296-08:00

America the Clothes Horse I stamp my foot and shake my tiny fist and cry, “This is America.” We’ve always been an unhealthy nation, with periods of excessive binging followed by equally excessive purging. If you listen, you can hear the retching sound emanating from the National Toilet now… we’re ridding ourselves of the beautiful feast we consumed during the 90’s. America’s getting skinny

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1067463497881227342003-10-29T13:38:00.000-08:002003-10-29T13:38:25.890-08:00

Too Young to be Old One of the (myriad) reasons why I dread getting older, and why my next birthday, which begins with a THREE and ends with a ZERO holds such terror for me, is because I regularly get a sneak preview of what aging will feel like. I’ve had back problems since I was in junior high school… one day something riiiiiiiipped back there, and periodically ever since, my back just gets

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1066939407885698832003-10-23T13:03:00.000-07:002003-10-23T13:03:28.000-07:00

Birth and Death (in that order) Oy, she's going on about death again... who does she think she is, Woody Allen? I saw a movie recently... I don't remember what it was, but people spoke with English accents, so it must have been cultural... it might have been I, Clavdivs (which I highly recommend, because despite the designer bedsheets and Telemundo production values, it is superbly written and

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1066936876251927882003-10-23T12:21:00.000-07:002003-10-23T12:21:16.110-07:00

Happy Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy, Happy,

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1066843159658355442003-10-22T10:19:00.000-07:002003-10-22T10:19:19.520-07:00

Santa, the Bookish Hooker I’m currently working at the Ban Macy*s (né Marché) on the seventh floor, behind the walls. When I walk off the elevator every morning, the first thing I see is Holiday Lane, which is their annual Christmas installation. I’m not writing to rail against a corporate juggernaut who’s collective brain is so twisted and evil as to thrust Christmas decorations upon an

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1065728364748383642003-10-09T12:39:00.000-07:002003-10-09T12:39:24.363-07:00

Question Is it immoral to eat a breakfast sandwich for lunch?

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1065727357211842282003-10-09T12:22:00.000-07:002003-10-09T12:23:14.173-07:00

Baby Seals Judy Garland isn’t as great as I’d always heard. Maybe I’m hearing the booze and pills in her voice, but she ain’t all that. Her voice was gossamer in Wizard of Oz of course, pure and playful and clear. Seems in later years, it got a bit muddy, and playful turned into campy. I’ll admit, I’ve never been a fan of camp. Give me satire, irony, or pure melodrama… leave camp for the

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1062809307588980312003-09-05T17:48:00.000-07:002003-09-05T17:48:27.586-07:00

Urban Legends of the Future The Mecha and the Alley (first told in 2057, by a friend of a friend who knew the guy who sold the guy the replacement robot heads). Late on night in the red light district of Neo-Seattle, two homeland security officers on their regular patrol witnessed a man, guiding a young woman with short black hair and blue eyes into a dark alley. Suspicious, the officers

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1061956861963111782003-08-26T21:01:00.000-07:002003-08-26T21:01:01.960-07:00

Regrets I examine my body and I realize that I’m mortal. As youth slips away, I’m faced with the fact that I’m not in the best shape, my skin is soft, and not made out of bullet proof Kevlar/Teflon mesh, my blood is curiously exposed in easily accessible vessels that if breached, could cause me no end of trouble. I neglected to have adamantium grafted onto my skeleton during my last checkup,

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1060282049180919192003-08-07T11:47:00.000-07:002003-08-07T11:47:29.150-07:00

Lesbians in Video Games: A Rant As much as I hate to admit it, my favorite hobby, along with being inherently anti-social, isolating and juvenile, is mostly a pursuit of geeky, immature boys with no socialization or exposure to a wider, more diverse world. Video games are created by man-children, for man-children. This is true for games developed in the US, and seems doubly true for those made

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1059677819135674512003-07-31T11:56:00.000-07:002003-07-31T13:54:41.036-07:00

The Reverend Turner's All Natural Head Oil Treatment I used to wash my hair every day. It was just something I did, never questioning; the same way I never questioned washing my underarms or crotch, it was just something you did. But then I started thinking: my hair produces oils… those bad oils that make your hair flat and greasy looking. Bad, bad oils. So instead, I’m supposed to wash my

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1059438104727829162003-07-28T17:21:00.000-07:002003-07-28T17:22:23.536-07:00

Will No One Show Me Blessed Mercy and Take This Infernal, Accursed, Hateful, Spawn of All That is UNHOLY, Air Conditioner From Around My Neck Where it Hangs Like a Bloody Millstone? Kenmore Room Air Conditioner... yours for only $175 (or best offer).

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1059332188933211192003-07-27T11:56:00.000-07:002003-07-27T11:56:28.703-07:00

Wicked Humbugs Have Turtles for Ears I’ve felt off lately. I’ve been listening to Billy Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald… old Cole Porter standards and jazzy numbers with that muffled trumpet sound that gives my cat an ulcer whenever it bleats and moans from the stereo. It doesn’t matter how snappy the song, that music sounds sad to me. It must be nostalgia for a time I never experienced… it’s the

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1058897198529112382003-07-22T11:06:00.000-07:002003-07-22T11:06:38.503-07:00

Word of the Week After reading a lovely piece in Salon about how blogging is related to the lesser essays of George Orwell, I feel that it is a little unworthy to write a filler entry about my favorite word of the week. More and more often, I've been at a loss for what to say in these pages; both because I believe I have no audience beyond family and freinds, and because despite this, these

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1058549775688760482003-07-18T10:36:00.000-07:002003-07-18T10:36:44.610-07:00

Katherine Turners Unite! So today I had a pleasant surprise. I got an e-mail from another Katherine Turner. This one lives in New York... I know nothing else about her, except that she sounds a little sad, like maybe things in the Big Apple aren't all rosy cheeked and sweet, with cinnamon and nutmeg and a crumbly brown sugar topping. Being a writer, I've often thought that my garret should

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1058044669296012182003-07-12T14:17:00.000-07:002003-07-12T14:17:49.270-07:00

Why I'd Like to be a Pirate I could be the one pirate in all the seven seas who still had clean healthy teeth. They would see my smile and elect me the pirate queen... and I could sing, "I am the Pirate Queen!" After a few years, I'd have leathery skin and crow's feet that you could hide gold doubloons in, but my tri-corn hat would distract from the wrinkles.

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1057968166583318462003-07-11T17:02:00.000-07:002003-07-11T17:02:46.430-07:00

Faces I had a strange experience in Downtown today. I was walking to the library to drop off a couple of DVDs and pick up a new one. The sun was warm, I was sweating but glad to be out of the house, if only for a short walk. The noise, however, was getting to me. Since I moved into this little cell on the third floor, I’ve been surrounded by noise from the street, my life is simply loud, my

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1057443636846421962003-07-05T15:20:00.000-07:002003-07-05T15:20:36.796-07:00

Not Panicking They just cut my unemployment from a whopping $191 a week to a useless $119, which is not enough to pay my rent even if I had no other bills, don’t rent movies, didn’t have to buy fresh cat litter, didn’t have to eat. This could be good for me though, a new diet sensation… ramen noodles for every meal. I’ve always hated ramen noodles and being something of a gourmand, I’ve never

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1056837013830205202003-06-28T14:50:00.000-07:002003-06-28T14:50:13.653-07:00

The Sunny Day Blues These endless, perfect, beautiful, flawless, warm invigorating days are making me tired. Anyone will tell you that the reason Seattleites put up with rain for nine months out of the year is because of the sheer joy of the Emerald City in Summer, full and lush, gleaming beneath the sunlight, light breeze washing over the Sound bringing salt air and a cooling touch to the

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1056735912595853662003-06-27T10:45:00.000-07:002003-06-28T10:14:08.953-07:00

Gay is the New Black No more anti-gay sex laws, gay marriage in Canada, actual sun on Pride Weekend… it seems that the gods are smiling down on my queer brethren. The gods themselves were mostly queer of course, Apollo was a gym bunny chicken-hawk, Zeus leaned toward bestiality, the Furies were the first angry lesbian folk trio… and then old man Yahweh moved into the neighborhood with his

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1056655357426062752003-06-26T12:22:00.000-07:002003-06-26T12:22:37.400-07:00

Sweet Water Most people I know filter their water. I filter my water… I use a Brita filter… it’s pronounced with the short ‘i’ sound, like the ‘i’ in Brit Pop… when it should be pronounced with a long ‘i’… like the ‘i’ in bright. But if I were to pronounce it correctly… “Do you carry any Bright-a filters?” People would look at me funny and not know what I was talking about… I would be the

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-1056644653105315592003-06-26T09:24:00.000-07:002003-06-26T09:24:13.050-07:00

Note: Power naps are far less effective if you sit up every few minutes and yell "POWERNAP!" at the top of your lungs.

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-958722612003-06-20T12:13:00.000-07:002003-06-20T12:13:35.680-07:00

The End of Humanity... Again... Just read this article about the possible pitfalls of human genetic engineering (See: Oriononline.org). It would be easy to dismiss the article by calling it Ludditism, or sci-fi paranoia. Indeed, many of the points Bill Mckibben makes are overstated, and come straight from the movie Gattica. However, it's a good read, and it raises genuine questions about the

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-958384402003-06-19T13:01:00.000-07:002003-06-19T13:01:52.176-07:00

When I Think About You I Google Myself... So just on a whim (I love that word... whim... sounds like a sweet faery sigh) I decided to Google myself. This is internet intellectual masturbation at its finest, grasping for the brass ring of celebrity with desperate, shaking claws. This here blog Googled up at number 2 (!), right after this entry: "Katherine Turner Lecturer in English at Trinity

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-958376812003-06-19T12:34:00.000-07:002003-06-19T12:35:07.000-07:00

Another Job at an End So they're ending my current temp job a few weeks early. That's OK with me. I can sleep in past 8 and hug my cats without having to worry about cat hair on black pants. The job was pretty damn good though. Sure I was working for the pinky finger of a massive, Bush-licking oil mulitnational... I sent next day letters to Hong Kong and South Korea for god's sake. But I

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-958023652003-06-18T12:59:00.000-07:002003-06-18T12:59:02.823-07:00

Book Review: The Secret History by Donna Tartt In literature, there are showmen (show-women) who have built careers on one great, knock-em dead performance and then, like David Copperfield (the magician, not the Dickens character) disappear in a puff of smoke, leaving the audience clamoring for more. Would J D Salinger have been as successful as a cultural icon if he had written one

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-956062262003-06-12T14:58:00.000-07:002003-06-12T15:00:47.000-07:00

Reverence I sometimes forget that I'm a legally ordained minister of the Universal Life Church (Date of Ordination March 13, 2000). In the e-mail they sent me to confirm my ordination they call me Rev. Katherine Anne Turner. And lest some of you think I am joking (surely she is joking, you say) I have performed exactly one wedding... and they're still married. I want to start signing my name

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-956012182003-06-12T12:25:00.000-07:002003-06-12T12:45:38.000-07:00

Regarding Plagues, Vampires and Novelas Lets start with a quick review of the novel I am Legend by Richard Matheson. First of all, 170 pages and two inch margins with thirteen point font, do not a novel make; I am Legend is squarely located in the literary banana republic that is the NOVELA (I'll always love Elaine for giving me that analogy). Novelas are fine, the word itself when written out

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-955556122003-06-11T10:02:00.000-07:002003-06-11T10:03:08.000-07:00

These are the words that I love today: Ovipositor... It's a part of our world, and yet so alien. It's long and sticky, it shoots out goo and yet is entirely female. Cadaver... The flat 'a' sound gives this word the same detached feeling as wax. It's meat, but it's not meant for eating. A cadaver used to be filled with person-ness, but is now something to be studied and dissected. This word

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-954834912003-06-09T15:40:00.000-07:002003-06-10T10:01:21.000-07:00

Collaborative Fiction So today Elaine, Joe and I decided to begin a new collaborative fiction project. I've started with a page titled Book. There's a link to it just to the right... assuming I didn't entirely fuck up the HTML. Stay tuned for links to the other two stories. It should be alot of fun and hopefully we'll get some truly fucked up and wacky material out of it.

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-953054802003-06-04T16:32:00.000-07:002003-06-04T16:33:21.000-07:00

Characterization What is particularly disturbing is when I write a character who's emotional life is based largely on my own and then to have some person, perhaps a member of a critique group, tell me just how lonely and desperate my chartacter is, and how my character would do anything just to know that someone wanted her, if only for a quickie in a grimy alley outside some gay dance club. I

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-950107232003-05-28T16:21:00.000-07:002003-05-28T16:21:53.700-07:00

Acoustic Tiles Acoustic tiles are white, have skin like an orange and are filled with small holes. They are made of fiberglass, so if you slide them back to reveal the ductwork above them, you may get showered with tiny fibers of glass that will burrow into your skin causing irritation: redness and itching. These fibers will remain in your skin until the epidermal layer in which they are

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-945902252003-05-19T10:42:00.000-07:002003-05-19T10:42:41.260-07:00

Erika Lopez and Octavia Butler Prolific doesn't suggest quality, although many people seem to equate the two. Certainly unpublished authors, like myself, admire the prolific among us. With wide eyes we stare at the Stephen King wing of Barnes and Noble and in a hushed voice we say: "He's so prolific" like we were hookers describing a particularly well endowed john. Yet Stephen King and Anne

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-945890522003-05-19T10:16:00.000-07:002003-05-19T10:44:14.000-07:00

Pre-Review of The Matrix Reloaded I just know that by the end of the movie, I'm gonna want those fucking sunglasses melted to Keanu's smug little face.

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-941109982003-05-10T10:15:00.000-07:002003-05-10T10:15:34.533-07:00

Moral Relativism The concept of moral relativism makes people crazy. The right wing speaks of it in hushed tones in the same string as homosexuality, single mothers and dancing. Because relativism suggests that there are no absolutes, even in the most fundamental, common sense foundations of society. The right practices moral relativism of course, everyone does, but they choose to see their

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-940621942003-05-09T10:13:00.000-07:002003-05-09T10:13:54.056-07:00

Housewarming If you're one of the two people who read this site. Don't forget my housewarming party this Saturday at 7. Yay!

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-940620392003-05-09T10:11:00.000-07:002003-05-09T10:11:03.890-07:00

Gloop Once upon a time, there was a thick little girl named Gloop. Gloop loved popular culture. She had J Lo posters on her walls, and ate those Eggo waffles with the pectin flavored gel inside, and had Pokemon cards tacked to her headboard so that she could stare at Pikachu and masturbate. One day, on the advice of a chihuahua, she went to Taco Bell. They had a new menu item: the Happy

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-937251792003-05-03T17:18:00.000-07:002003-05-03T17:18:31.076-07:00

OK Set of Knives I have an OK set of knives. It’s a full set, minus the heavy duty scissors, and it includes carving knife, boning knife, paring knife, butcher knife, bread knife and that knife between boning and paring that I don’t know what to call. It doesn’t stay sharp for more than five uses before needing a go, but they all work. I’ve carved turkeys with the carving knife, I’ve actually

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-934781032003-04-29T10:55:00.000-07:002003-04-29T10:55:46.600-07:00

Parallel Universes There is another me out there, in a level 1 parallel universe (see Scientific American Online, Parallel Universes), and she is typing the very same sentence into the very same computer, looking out the same window listening to the same construction noise outside with the same cat running around the floor meowing and going slowly insane from inertia and boredom. Is she

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-933501232003-04-27T10:37:00.000-07:002003-04-27T10:37:43.226-07:00

Lovely day It's going to be a lovely day, and now I have to find some excuse to get myself out of this apartment and into the sun. Do I shave my legs? Is it warm enough for capri pants? Are capri pants even in style anymore? How do I go out into the world and not spend any money, that's the real question. There's just so many things out there, all glittering in the sun and whispering, "Buy

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-933497742003-04-27T10:29:00.000-07:002003-04-27T10:29:59.893-07:00

Mango Mango is the best fruit in the world. There, I said it... and I'm not ashamed. I cry my love of mango to the heavens, sing its juicy, orange-fleshed praises. Oh sweet nectar, thou runnest down my chin in rivulets and I do smile. Mangos are becoming ever cheaper and more abundant in the past couple of years. Obviously people in America are begining to see the mango as I do: as a soft,

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-927235332003-04-16T09:37:00.000-07:002003-04-16T09:37:45.670-07:00

The Uncertainty Principle I moved into a new apartment last weekend. It was a chore where myself and eight lovely lovely friends shipped my crap up four flights of steps. Now that all the work is done and my place is organized, beautiful and crying out for classy persian rugs... I still don't know if I'll be able to actually stay. My name isn't on the lease yet, and my former landlady, upon

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-920511162003-04-05T10:59:00.000-08:002003-04-05T10:59:40.436-08:00

Why I'd Like to be a Hooker I know, intellectually, that being a hooker is a bad, dangerous, dirty, brutal business. But like most Americans, I can't help assimilating the emotion, if not the substance of Hollywood; and as everyone knows, being a movie hooker is a beautiful, high paying career filled with love and adventure. All hookers are beautiful (except Julia Roberts). Then there's the

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-917234872003-03-31T10:52:00.000-08:002003-03-31T10:53:45.000-08:00

Wearing a Nightshirt in Public I've used most of this morning to clean house, which includes: changing the catboxes, sweeping the floor, washing dishes and laundry. When I clean the catboxes and haven't showered, I feel covered with grit, and an indefinable film of badness, which may only exist in my mind, but which is still unpleasant. So I wear my nightshirt, which is still soft and aromatic

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-916558962003-03-30T09:30:00.000-08:002003-03-30T09:30:16.733-08:00

The trees were still bare, the hints of new green leaves were no more impressive than the many years of moss that grew on the trunks. Still, it was a warm day and as we walked, the warmth on my face and the sweet clear air in Olympia gave me fuzzies in my belly. Flowers were beginning to bloom, and among the blurry, verdant landscape, spots of color popped like fireworks. It would be easy to

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5191412.post-911540702003-03-21T16:28:00.000-08:002003-03-23T11:00:33.000-08:00

What with the war and the killing and the President with the ears and the nose and those hairs on his head, I thought it was about time we had a weblog that made absolutely no commentary on world events. This is not that weblog. But I will soon start another Blog linked to this one tenatively titled, "Waverly's Day." This log will chronicle the continuing story of Waverly... a guy with

Katherinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06441355281735284399noreply@blogger.com0