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About kb

free spirit, lover of red wine, bacon, sushi, the ocean, and adventure. I work in the legal field, do freelance writing, and take care of children.

Mishmash

I’ve come to the conclusion that I really enjoy traveling.
Maybe it’s the constant shuffle between Denver and Chicago, which sadly is drawing to a close at the end of this month, or the amount of places that I’ve been given the opportunity to visit, but either way, I’ve been in love with the world.
Luckily, however, I usually have a pretty nice bed to sleep in and this one is no exception. Soft and spacious, it’s been hard to get out of. Maddie wasn’t here last night, as she left yesterday to return home because Paul McCartney is more important than us, and I slept poorly. Hoping that it doesn’t affect my enjoyment of today.
We’ve run out of steam on tourist things. We’re heartbroken that we won’t be able to make it to Alcatraz. I’m sick of bus transfers and swaying and holding on up and down hills. It’s a much worse system than Chicago and I’m grateful for the CTA more times during the day than I ever thought I would be.

If you’re friends with me on Facebook, the pictures of the trip are up. There are some necessary security precautions, so if you’re a friend of a friend, you’ll not be able to see the album. I’ll set some of my favorites aside to post here once I get a bit more time. It’s been a lovely journey through a lovely city and the place that we are staying is beyond amazing. I have a thing for any place that has granite countertops and an outdoor patio with a grill. Soft carpet. Walk in closets (not that they’ve been used at all).

After Cape Town, I wonder what it will be like to come back to Denver and make a life? Honestly, this trip is two parts adventure and two parts delaying adulthood. I’m not sure what it’s like to make new friends or to find a new place to live in a city I no longer understand. It will be interesting. I’m going to give it a year and if I find that it’s not working out for me, or that I’m unhappy in some monumental way, I’m going to pick a new city (or Chicago) and pick up and move there.
But hopefully Denver will be a suitable spot; I long ago decided I wanted to raise my children there. It’s not bad crime-wise and it’s just urban enough to be interesting, but also maintains a very laid-back attitude and is usually friendly, welcoming, accepting and progressive. The political culture is present and wildly different than the Chicago scene; good schools – better private ones; good prices; proximity to adventure (but sadly, no lakes/oceans). It’s diverse, although I find myself at times wishing it was a more diverse city. We shall see how it changes in the next ten or so years before children are on the scene.
Colorado is the healthiest state, well-educated, apparently good for singles (ugh, dating). Maybe this will end in my  favor?

More of San Francisco

I am wholly in love with this city. San Francisco reminded me at first of Boston, but now I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s nothing like Boston at all, in any way.
It’s not like Chicago, either. Last night, I asked a group of people where the nearest 24 hour liquor store was and they looked at me like I was absolutely crazy and asked me where I was from. Late bars? I asked hopefully. Not a chance. Apparently they do things differently around here.
The public transportation is insane. And not necessarily in a good way. While I feel like it does a decent job of covering the city, there are cable cars, street cars, buses, trains….any and all vehicular forms are used here and it makes it quite confusing.
 A big disappointment was the Golden Gate Bridge, which wasn’t planned out for tourists very well at all. There were three working bathroom stalls on the side of the bridge that we were on, and for the women, a line that extended quite far into the parking lot. I was glad to have brought hand sanitizer with me that day, definitely. The parking lot had service by one bus line, and buses to go to separate areas of the city left from the same spot and were numbered the same.
But.
This has been one of the greatest adventures of my life thus far. I could not love the women that I am with any more if I tried. It’s been stressful, at times, relaxing, at other times, amazing, fulfilling, perfect.
Katie, Carolyn, Madeline, Anna and Leah are five friends I shall carry these memories with for life.
Last night was our big “going out” night because three of them (Madeline, Katie and Carolyn) are leaving today. We went to Asia SF last night to get dinner and watch gender illusionists lip synch what we thought were going to be show tunes. It was definitely a bit more raunchy than show tunes, but it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience.
Delicious three course dinner, dessert, drinks – free shots (an experience a selected few of you will hear about).
After, we got lost in a rough part of the city, made some quick decisions and got out of the situation. Along the way, we saw a huge group of police officers and firemen. They honked their truck horn at us and waved, which we found hilarious.
After some confusion and terror, we ended up back on the cable car/street car and got off at a random stop. The Mint bar was doing karaoke. This is where our night ended. Madeline and I did “Wonderboy” by Tenacious D. The other girls did something from Fiddler on the Roof.
At some point, I was outside and a man who told me he’d fallen in love with two girls who’d moved to Denver let me ride his street bike, something I had never done before. Another man who was out there had friends with him from Denver and we all danced for the rest of the night.
It was great.
Today we are planning on doing some walking tours of the city and riding a cable car and doing an at home dinner.

I keep forgetting I’m in California

Hello from San Francisco!!

Madeline and I are on our way to watch the World Cup finale but after that, we should be exploring the Haight today and then the evening is undecided. Perhaps Chinatown?

Tomorrow, if things fall into place, Katie Morton and I shall be riding over the Golden Gate Bridge on a tandem bike. It may very well be the most interesting thing we’ve ever done.

Last night was interesting. Maddie and I both landed about the same time, and then after getting my luggage, we went down to the BART and paid $7.95 each to take the train to 24th and Mission. From there I was quite distracted by a cart selling bacon hotdogs for $3.50. However, I was more intent on arriving at our destination alive, so we headed to the house on foot.
Hills. There were hills. At some point, we realized it was going to be a much more difficult endeavor than we had originally planned and I hailed a cab. Six dollars later, we had arrived.
Katie, Anna and Carolyn had been out in the Castro at the gay bars and were slightly worse for the wear, so Maddie and I left them to sleep and went out back to a bar we had seen on the ride to the house.
We had barely been out of the house five minutes when a motorcyclist made a U-turn and mumbled something odd. We walked on.
The Dubliner was playing a wonderful selection of music and we settled in to drink a couple in the last hour before the bars closed. I told the man who sidled up next to me that we were spending the summer backpacking up the west coast, starting in San Diego and ending in Seattle.
A man from Hungary tried to steal my camera (possibly), and after prying it from his hands, we left him to go home as the lights had just come on.
We made it home safely, read for awhile, and slept peacefully and woke this morning refreshed and ready for today.

We’ve got reservations at a restaurant that features feminine-looking Asian men lip-syncing to show tunes for the thirteenth. Excitement.

The odd thing about this place is that everyone seems to know we’re outsiders. It’s strange. I feel as though I normally can manage to blend into the places that I go.
Expect pictures; this is a beautiful city.

Great (mis)Expectations

It’s happened.
It’s been happening.
It’s going to end badly, not for all parties involved, but for me.
Love isn’t patient or kind, or any of that bullshit.
It’s painful and reckless and full of terrible decisions and one-sided feelings.
And it’s inevitable.

I’m not usually the one in my situation. I’m normally the one tearing up hearts, leaving nothing but tragedy and lost hope in my wake. But this time, it’s different.
This is the first time since that one time, and man, that was rough. That was three years of my life that tore me apart, bit by bit, until my soul was shattered. I lived on my expectations, my hopes, the possibilities. Lived for them. I still can’t listen to the song that was his ringtone then, it reminds me of long nights of waiting and of nothing and of broken promises and tears.
And one day it was over; the pain was gone, there was no feeling at all. A twinge of selfish joy, perhaps, but nothing else. It was done, I was done feeling it, I’d moved on.

Time.

I have a crush. It’s a bad crush. Not that it’s bad to have a crush, it’s healthy and normal and normally wonderful. It is wonderful.
But he’s not feeling for me the way I am for him, and even though I’m aware of that, I’m worried that I’ll let my heart get in the way of my head, as it tends to do. I don’t want to hope anything, I want to live and breathe in the moment and be free but constant. Consistently is lacking in that aspect, as is communication of those expectations. I need to keep myself in check by constantly evaluating the situation and taking it for what it is: nothing. Fun. Reckless fun. Great reckless fun. Perfectly great reckless fun.
That’s all it is, that’s all it will be. And I’ll take that.

I’m here and there; I’ve not been consistently in the same city for years. I’m back and forth, unsettled, technically free. I’m young and I’m beautiful, intelligent with a seemingly bright future ahead of me. I am everything, but I’m not that yet, I’m still on the cusp of all that is life. I’ve yet to succeed in business, or work in an office, or make a salary. And I know I’m young yet. It will all fall into place.

There’s still time.

It’s always the wrong time.

And this is what is happening now. I’ve caught a glimpse of something that I so dearly want, a person who’s driven and intelligent and funny and kind and I’ve begun to realize those are all of the things that I want. Not stupid boys, I want a stupid man.

And so this crush will have to ride itself out, while he pines for another and I so willingly accept the job of placeholder, keeping time while it passes.

There are no choices but the ones you make in the moment and those are the choices that shape the way you are and forever will be. But I’ve never been one to make rational choices; I wouldn’t be Katie Barry if I did. If you know the consequences yet you still make those decisions, what does that make you? Foolish, obviously. Desperate, not quite. Aware and idiotic, alive.

And to lust is to be alive; it’s a reminder of what we’re searching for: that possibly singular blinding connection.

I’ll be old enough, one day. But by then, some other possibly smarter man will have realized the true value of my personality and seen the scope of my endless possibilities and unique perceptions and swept me off my feet.

And if not, there’s always eHarmony.

(dear lord that was emo; I’m sorry. I’m exhausted. It’s not an excuse but I’m using it and I stand by it. Part of me is mortified to post this, but part of me thinks it will be cleansing. I hate crushes. They’re so fun and so annoying at the same time. But here’s to more wonderful years of fun crushes and late nights, and mostly, dancing. And here’s to crushes, because where would we be if we weren’t always yearning for something we couldn’t have?)

Um, also, I’m going to San Francisco! I’ll be back on Friday, so perhaps there will be intermittent blog posting but perhaps not. Oh dear, this is going to be wonderful.
Ah, the waning days of my youth certainly do bring about a wild amount of adventure.

I long to travel. Everywhere. I want to visit everything and know everyone before I’m thirty with kids and a mid-level office job.
I want to live.
And that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Au revoir, and expect pictures.

I’m so lost and yet so settled.

I’ve spent the last twenty two years figuring out who I am and I think I’ve finally come to terms with me.
I’ve been loving being back; I sort of like being alone but always having somewhere to be, if that makes sense.
I’m excited to eventually find someone to share my life with, but I really truly do understand the value of one’s own company. I am finding that I enjoy this time in life: unsettled, aware, alive, terrified, excited, anxious, restless, adventurous, beautiful, intrigued, curious, apprehensive, confident, nostalgic, reflective, quite sure: of nothing and of everything.

I am quite sure. But mostly, I am Katie Barry. And that, my friends, is not a bad thing to be.

There have been so many thoughts lately, and actually the push to write more fiction, so tomorrow, the first day that there will be breath for me since moving home, I will be breathing, and writing, and sipping tea. And then, of course, adventuring, because what day would be worthwhile without some sort of wild tale yet untold?

There are the things that have come back, the curious twists of fate, the possibilities. Exploration begins, tentatively, as does the working out.

Becoming a woman (in the real sense of the word….I used the phrase the other night and my friends were properly horrified) is not the easiest thing to do. There are things they fail to tell you, of course, that you must figure out. One of them is that living in the Midwest will make you love processed meats and cheeses and give you extra curves and things you never thought you’d have. I’m off to hike tomorrow, maybe? Morning? Red Rocks? yes. If I could be anywhere, always, it would be there.

I also can’t wait to write the Subway tales, I think you’ll find those at least mildly amusing.

I never believed anyone when they told me time would start to fly by as I got older. 

I’ll never forget thinking that middle school would last forever, and that high school wouldn’t be a time in my life I’d someday look back nostalgically on. 
College didn’t even seem endless; it was there and it was done and now it’s over and I feel as though it never happened, even though I’m quite sure it did. 
Twenty two is young, I’m constantly reminded of that. But it’s not so young that I’ve not lived a full life, not so young I’ve not been molded into a wholly unique person. 
Lately, I’ve been embracing myself, and finding it entirely freeing. Meeting new people, doing new things (please do not judge me for this overly broad statement; cutting bread and putting meat and cheese and condiments on it entirely counts as something new), preparing for great adventures, being generally at ease with the things around me: I’m throwing myself into all of that. 
Not that on the inside I’m not absolutely terrified. Africa for three months? What if life as I know it changes when I return? Of course it will. I will be changed when I return. 
But some things never change. And that might be the best part. 
I’m home. 
Thank you, everyone. I’m here because of you. Not here, here, but here. 

Home, or something like it.

We have arrived.
The trip out was eventful, of course, but we made it in one piece with no trouble. After a late start on Thursday, we got to Des Moines. Both Mike and I were tired and hurting from the packing and cleaning, and the cat was ready to stop as well, so we stopped and got a hotel room for the night. Having AAA does have its advantages, and with a discounted room – I think the discount came to about $5 – we went down to the pool to swim and then ordered food and fell asleep.
Of course, we slept in later than we had planned and then headed out for Omaha. After lunch of hamburgers complete with hamburger-cupcake dessert, we went to the zoo and then out for dinner. After that, we played in the yard and then with the neighborhood kids.
Mike and I slept down in the basement but were distracted by the Wii, and so got another late start on Saturday. We made it home by about one.
Saturday night I went to a friend’s barbecue and then had to be up early to start my new career as a Sandwich Artist. Not to brag or anything, but I’m a much better sandwich artist than the other new kid who were training next to me. I just sort of jumped right in and began creating and the other guy hung back.  I’m not going to lie, it’s going to be interesting work. Not particularly challenging, but I feel as though I can figure out some way to spice my days up.
Ah, Colorado. We shall see how it all goes. Well, I hope.
I’m still spread out, not quite settled in. My stuff is all over this house and I still have a garage full of things at Mom’s to organize. I’m waiting for my three suitcases to arrive via UPS and once they do, things should get a little bit better. Hopefully.

Blues, among other things

I babysat the three little boys for the last time last night.
Blaise is two now, and he can annunciate my name. Hunter and Luke will be five in September, so we talked about me leaving and they told me that maybe they’d go on vacation while I was gone too, but wanted to know if I’d be back for their birthday. When I told them I’d be gone, Hunter looked at me and said, “Maybe you can come over the day before.”
We had a good night. Two of them weren’t feeling well, so we made juice popsicles and watched too much Thomas the Tank Engine. I choked back tears while we were reading stories, and then again when I put Blaise to bed. I’ve always had a special bond with him; he’s such a happy baby.
Then, things got bad. I put Luke to bed in the boys’ room and he wanted me to sing to him, so I asked him what he wanted. “A song about you,” he said, so I sang something. “Actually,” he said after I’d badly sung a short, made-up song, “tell me a story about you.” So we talked about them, and Carlos, and life.
I told him I loved him and tucked him in and then went to find Hunter, who was in the other room. He wanted to sing to me, he said. He hummed me a song and then asked me what my favorite part was. “The middle,” I answered.
“It’s Tinkerbell’s birthday song,” he said. “Now you sing me one.”
I hummed Blackbird.
And then I cried.
They gave me a beautiful card and each of the boys gave me a piece of paper they’d decorated.
It’s been a wild two years, but as I told her when I left, I’m wildly more prepared for motherhood. I remember when I had just started with them and I’d find myself overwhelmed at times. Now, I can weather tantrums calmly without being stressed at all. Last night, there were those tired tears that only sleep can solve, a problem so simple it wasn’t, and Luke telling me he had to have popsicles by midnight. The only problem? They weren’t frozen yet.
I looked at him and I said, “What do you think will happen if you don’t have one before midnight instead of waiting until tomorrow?”
He thought about it.
“Nothing too bad, right?” I said. “Now, you may have banana or applesauce.”
The tears continued, but I continued doing what I had been doing and I didn’t bat an eye. Later it was applesauce that solved the problem.

After I got home last night, I called my friend Patrick (who met Maddie a few months ago on his first night in Chicago) and told him I wanted to go out. Then I called my new Irish friend (how funny is it that we majored in the same thing? However, he also has a Master’s degree and I do not) and asked him what he was doing. He was at a blues place. So Patrick and I went. The place has two stages, and the musicians switch back and forth between the two all night. One of their group had talked to the musicians after the first set, and they invited him up to play with them. The club was open until 3:30, so we stayed there as long as we could. (I’d only gotten there around one.)
I ended up home with McDonald’s breakfast around six thirty, and I managed to find what I believe is legal parking (it’s street sweeping day, but there weren’t any signs) so all is well. That group of guys is hilarious. They’re seven guys here for the summer, excited to meet American girls, but so far have only met Irish ones (and me, but I don’t think I count. They keep asking me if I have girl friends. I tell them I’m working on it). I have thoroughly enjoyed the couple of weeks I’ve had with them and am going to be sad to miss their summer here.

Mike gets in tonight! I’m not sure what we’re going to do, I have a huge final tomorrow, and still think I’m going to write a six page paper, but haven’t decided yet, so it might be a laid back night in.
I’m miserably unprepared for this move and it’s starting to make me nervous. I know that I don’t have much to do in Colorado, but Dad is leaving just before I get to his house and the idea of being somewhere unfamiliar at a high-stress time with Carlos and other cats is stressing me out. I’m employed, though! I start at Subway next week. I’m about to the best qualified “sandwich artist” that ever lived.
But South African preparations must begin.
Ah, summer. Hopefully Denver is ready for me.

Moving to Denver: 2010: Cat Update

I apologize for that last post.
My life list should actually look more like this:

To Do:
Stop being such a melodramatic bore.

Instead of doing anything on either of those lists, I spoke with Mom on the phone for well over an hour, referenced Virginia Woolf more than I should have, and then promptly overworked myself about cat nail clippers. You know, that sort of afternoon.
Carlos’ nail clippers are missing. And his claws grow faster than baby’s fingernails. So perhaps my Sunday drive today should be to PetSmart (Is it PetsMart? Or PetSmart? either way, there) to get some new ones that won’t shred his nails.
That way I can prove to myself and him that I’m not a bad mother.

The ankle is another issue entirely. I played ultimate frisbee and then kickball yesterday, neither of which are activities conducive to healing. I now have a solid mass just above my ankle bone. I’ll keep you updated for developments in that department.
However, I love running around. I also love it when neighborhood moms say that 22 year olds can still have popsicle breaks. Perfect evening.

Firetruck on my street and others fast approaching. Hopefully it’s the second great Chicago fire and I can finally capitalize on my renter’s insurance policy.
(Cute joke, I promise. I’m pretending that I’m not leaving and have therefore not begun packing. It’s that sort of week as well. It might be easier if half of my possessions were charred. It would certainly make packing easier.)

The short-lived audio player will return, just after I’ve made some adjustments. That one was cumbersome and ugly, and if it’s one thing that I prefer my blog not to be, it’s that. (Take your pick, cumbersome or ugly.)

I’m going to hit up the PetSMart (there, end of discussion) downtown and make sure that I can get Carlos  what he needs. Maybe he’ll want to come with? We’re trying to practice car driving. (Redundant, I know.) He’s not been bad at it; the only thing he HATES is getting in. And with those claws? He’d be a free cat in no time.

….
(Some time later)

I’ve returned…I have a new dog carrier for Carlos (since he’s too big to fit comfortably in the cat ones) that should be spacious enough for the road trip. (I’ll hopefully be able to fit a small litter box and some food/water in there as well….fingers crossed!) I didn’t want to go too big, he doesn’t need a cat palace. But he also got a new collar (it’s adorable – white with dark brown flowers along it) to replace the one that was lost when he had his surgery. I’m not going to bother paying to make a tag or anything, he’s microchipped and easily recognizable by all of his physical injuries.
Apparently, his teeth are out of order too. The front fangs are behind other fang-like teeth (I’d like to say incisors, but I’m most likely wrong. Fangs are incisors, right?) but should be in front of them. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to bother him although it might explain why he eats like a hyena.

Today was beautiful: hot and sunny, the Pride parade was today. I didn’t go, instead I chose to decompress (and rest that ankle) and lay around watching the NCIS marathon on USA.
Perfect day.

I’m off to my friend Harrison’s for our last movie night tonight.

The countdown has begun.
I’m at home today, not doing much of anything.
Lots to do: cleaning, obviously, a 6 page paper due Wednesday, packing, etc.

Tomorrow: A test at 2, then work from 5 until midnight.
Tuesday: Apparently, Mike flies in.
Wednesday: Final
Thursday: work
Friday: Denver.

Not much to write, not in the mood to write about much of anything.