Love the Life you Live, Live the Life you Love

I knew it was trouble when we walked in. Chris and I have stayed in Air BnBs all over the world - from the Arctic Circle in Finland to Ushuaia at the tip of Patagonia in Argentina. From the haunted house with Ouiji board that locked itself in the closet and the porcelain dolls that I swear followed me into the the bathroom, to the plush condo in Buenos Aires with the rooftop pool. The key to Air BnB is low expectations. If you have the expectation of "This is literally a place to put my bags and lay my head down", you'll never be disappointed! The one in Ushuaia, we literally shared a bathroom with 4 other people. The toilet and plumbing was so sketchy I refused to poop in the house...and we stayed there for THREE DAYS. We slept in two double beds in a small library off the kitchen...on my HONEYMOON. The one in the Arctic Circle had no shower and we had to heat our water with a sauna and shower by pouring a bucket over each others head. Don't even get me sta...

I really hate race reports. And yet here I am, writing my race report. Usually when I write a race report I find starts with useless information that only pertains to myself and finishes with a bunch of excuses on why the race didn't go as planned, why my training was sub-par, why I didn't go faster, etc etc etc. But I mean....if you don't write a race report....can you REALLY call yourself a triathlete? An Ironman? A human being? Unconfirmed, but probably not. The day started at 3:32 when Chris' alarm buzzed me out of my deep slumber... Just kidding. I'm not wasting your time with the arbitrary details of my relatively boring morning. Here's the short and dirty: I woke up tired, ate bland food that I gagged on, got on a school bus, slept on the way to the start while trying to block out everyone's small talk. Best part of the morning? I walked out of a portapotty and bumped into my very best most wonderful friend in the world Julie, who surpris...

It has been 3 years since I last blogged. Three.Years. I'm closer to 30 than I am 25. I have stocks. I have an INVESTMENT plan. I found my first forehead wrinkle not too long ago and had the realization that I can no longer tolerate parties where I don't have at least 2 feet of personal space and access to a bathroom with organic soap and a fresh hand towel. When people text me at 7:30 on a weekend to ask if I have plans (assuming I have friends, which...I don't yet -working on it I swear, it's legit on my to-do list.) I bust out laughing at the idea of leaving my home past dark. I grow legitimately concerned when I see a girl in an outfit showing both her legs AND boobs. I recently tied a sweater around my shoulders. AROUND.MY.SHOULDERS. Yep. I've really grown up. Sliding into my 30s like a dog on a linoleum kitchen floor - reluctant but also wondering if there are snacks on the other side. I guess the biggest thing in my life recently is Ironman. In case...

So I think we've established at this point I'm living with my parents in St. Louis (in case we haven't and I've once again had an entire explanation in my head but failed to clue in my audience, I just cleared it up for you). For the most part it's been pretty painless, and dare I say enjoyable. I haven't lived at home for more than 2 weeks since graduating high school, and I was 18 then - that's a long time ago. But I've actually learned to love having my coffee made, lunch prepared, clothes washed and ironed, dog walked, and my dinner on the table every day - rough life. The only thing that really seems to lack is that my parents have failed to join the 90's and get cable and internet in the home. I was so taken aback the first time I flipped on the TV while simultaneously attempting to connect to WIFI that I hadn't even considered the alternative to the world wide web and Direct TV. After a few days of quiet despair I found alternative ways ...

Another day passes when St. Louis gets a mild sprinkling of precipitation and the entire city shuts down - not that I'm hating on my snow day or anything. I'll be the first to admit the streets were a little slick this morning but watching the news reporters on TV this morning, you'd think this was the apocalypse. Let's just calm down here for a hot  cold second. It's just snow. It happens every year, multiple times a year. If the mere forecast of the stuff brings panic, might I suggest moving to southern Florida? And the only people who really struggle are those who are dim witted enough to attempt to drive their Scions out right in the thick of it, and frankly they deserve to slide around a bit for buying a Scion in the first place. Another thing is that everyone's snow anxiety would be eased if the rest of the world clued into what Colorado and Utah have known for years: Subaru. A few months ago in Utah it had snowed 2 feet in 24 hours and it was still co...

Not much news going on the past few days in the life of Katie (it’s moments like this I wish I had a catchier name, like Pi. “The Life of Pi” has such a better ring to it than “The Life of Katie” – someone should coin that phrase – just sayin’). I wake up at 6:30, hide under my covers until 6:45 when that moment of panic indisputably hits me and I leap to the ceiling like my bed has fleas (you know the one – where you look at your phone and a string of swear words run through your head like closed captioning while you run frantically out your bedroom door.) For most people it happens once a semester or so, maybe a couple times a year. I’ve gotten into the nasty habit of starting every day with that delightful adrenaline rush. I pitter-patter into the bathroom and pray that my hair looks reasonable enough to get away with not showering, but of course it never does so I jump around the bathroom pulling off my pjs and jump into the shower. I have no idea what I do in the middle of the...

I may have spoken too soon when I said that Kirkwood library was my spot. Here I am comfortably doing my speech-pathology work when out of nowhere: We took the square route of this and put it here and here and put it there and there.  My ears tuned in and I raised my head. I sniffed the air and suspiciously scanned the area. Yep. Math. Immediately I broke out in a sweat. Hands started shaking. Eyes twitched. Jaw clenched and neck twisted. Vomit literally came up my esophagus. Pavlov conditioning in it's purest form.  So this times this gives you this and this times this gives you that.  Focus, Katie. Hmm....a 2 year old with hearing loss who is struggling with some final consonant deletion, some stopping of fricatives, some devoicing? Now that, I am good at.... Now do you see inside your parenthesis that there is a difference of squares? No I don't see, lady. That past is long behind me and I'm never going back.  Right now I'm transcribing, identifying ...