You're Unbelievable

My friend Katie is possibly more of a freak magnet than me (if you can believe it). She's definitely equal, and when we go out it's like both our powers are magnified.

So I knew Saturday night when we went out, I was going to get great material for my blog. I wasn't disappointed. In fact, I had a number of scenes to choose from. Eagerly I sat down to type them out. Except I ran into a few problems.

You guys need to realize one thing: I'm good, but I'm not that good. A guy dressed as a cross between Batman and Boba Fett? A guy who asks to rub my feet as I'm walking in the park? I couldn't make up that stuff if I tried.

But as Katie and I left the swanky Irish bar we went to after dinner and before we went to a hip-hop dancefest, we found a solution: we're going to take some kind of recording device with us from now on so we have proof. Because the next time a big, boisterous Irishman offers to buy us cocktails and then shouts to the bartender "ANDREW! Get these lesbians a drink" we want to be able to prove that it actually happened.

Dress Like a Pirate

"Love! Are you home?"

Nate. Aw hell. I looked up from his dresser drawer. What was he doing home? I thought I still had time. He wasn't going to be happy I was raiding his stuff. "Um, I'll be out in a second."

I rooted around more furiously. It had to be in here—I knew he had one. I leaned in to look in the back and bumped my head on the corner. "Ouch."

"Love, what are you doing?"

Rubbing my head, I looked over my shoulder with an innocent smile. "Putting laundry away."

He frowned, suspicion filling his eyes. "You never put laundry away."

"Um, I'm trying to turn over a new leaf." I scooted a little to the left, hoping the bed would give me adequate cover. The last thing I needed was for him to see what I was wearing.

But he must have heard my thoughts because he walked around the bed to stand in front of me. He blinked a couple times as he gaped. "Are you wearing my linen shirt?"

"Um, maybe." I smiled winningly. "Is it okay if I borrow it?"

"Sure." His forehead puckered. "Can I ask why though? It's a bit oversized on you, isn't it?"

"That's okay. I'm just going for the look." I clambered to my feet to show him. "It's got laces up the front like a pirate shirt."

"I see."

I could tell by his voice that he really didn't. "It's Talk Like a Pirate day on Wednesday. I'm just getting my costume ready."

"Ah." He nodded like it all made sense. "I suppose that explains why you have black leggings on with it and a broadsword strapped to your leg. How did you manage that, by the way?"

"Duct tape." I frowned down at how the sword stuck out awkwardly from my body. "I'm going to have to rethink it though. It doesn't make for a quick draw."

"No, it wouldn't." He glanced at the open dresser drawer. "What were you looking for?"

"A bandana." I pouted. My pout is one of my most powerful weapons, and I'm not afraid to use it. "What's a pirate without a bandana?"

"Not much of a pirate." He shuffled a few things in the drawer. "Here you go."

"You're my hero." Beaming I took the red bandana and tied it around my neck. "Now I just need an eye patch."

"Uh, right." Shaking his head, Nate turned to leave the bedroom. In the doorway he paused. "So this means I can look forward to you talking like a pirate all day tomorrow?"

"Ye bet yer booty, ye scurvy knave." I grinned, wishing I'd blackened a couple teeth for effect. "Arr!"

Kung Fu

A couple months ago when I challenged you guys to ask me questions, I think it was Virna who asked me how I got into Kung Fu.

I wasn't looking to take Kung Fu, per se. One morning I woke up and realized I wasn't happy. I felt stuck and angry and generally displeased with myself. I'm a creature of action, so I decided to do something about it.

The first thing that came to mind was studying a martial art, because I knew martial arts encouraged personal growth. Plus the idea of kicking ass appealed to me. So I tried a whole lot of different classes. A whole lot—various styles from various countries. But nothing felt right.

Then I serendipitously happened upon Andre. When I looked at him, he had something I didn't see in any of the other teachers I'd met: tranquility. I wanted that for myself, so I convinced him he wanted to take me on as a student.

Here I am eleven years later. I'm positive I owe all the good things in my life to what I've learned in Kung Fu. I wouldn't be published, I wouldn't have my great friends, and I definitely wouldn't have Nate. I'm not different than when I first started—I'd say I'm more myself. The Kate light shines brighter, as it were.

And despite what Andre says, I know I'm his favorite.

Kate in Arkansas

In honor of PD2's release, my good friend and fellow author Julie Linker has posted pictures of my visit with her in Arkansas. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Real Life Experience

I sat at Rodrigo for about half an hour before I finally broke down and turned to Nate, who sat next to me watching the end of the Deutsche Bank golf tournament. "Love, what should I write for my blog tomorrow?"

"You can't write your blog now," was the immediate response from my beloved. "You need to go see a movie."

"I do?"

"Yes. It's so obvious."

"Really?"

"Of course." He lifted Rodrigo out of my lap and set him on the coffee table. "You need some real life experience before you can write your blog. A little inspiration from your environment."

"And a movie is where I'll get inspired?"

"Yeah. Think of all the people you'll see on the bus there and back."

True. I nodded. "What movie do I want to see?"

"The Bourne Ultimatum."

"I had no idea."

"Oh, you've been dying to see it. And you've been dying to have a hamburger too. Don't worry. We'll take care of that after the movie."

"Huh." I frowned. "I guess you know me better than I know myself."

Nate patted my knee. "Someone's got to look out for you, love."