• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

Drops of Awesome

Personal Blog of Author Kathryn Thompson

  • Home
  • About
  • Author Page
  • Events
  • Merch
  • Contact

Archives for July 2006

Getting to Know You

July 10, 2006 by Kathryn

This is the best meme ever, which I discovered over at Catez’s website a while back. It’s a great one to get to know new people. Please feel free to email your answers directly to me.

What is your full name?
Kathryn Miranda Octavius Magooly Daring

What is your date of birth?
I could be a reincarnation of Elvis.

What four cities have you lived in?
Enchilada Town
Pizza-ville
I cannot count.

What four TV shows do you love?
The Office
So You Think You Can Paint My Garage — new reality show where slackers get voted ON to do more paint duty, rather than voted off
The West Wing
The Daily Show with Jon Stewart

What four credit cards do you currently use?
Enchilada Town (Bean Miles Visa Rewards Card)
Canadian Express
Dude. We just moved into a new house. I use anything Home Depot will accept.

What are four credit account numbers assigned you, and when (month/year) do they expire?
Does it count as “expiring” if your Magoo sucks on them and then tosses them over the side of the cart?

Do you have four credit card pin numbers, and if so, what are they?
1111
1111
1111
1111

What does your mother’s maiden name look like if you type it four times in a row? Frankenthandler
Frankenthandler
Jones
Frankenthandler

What are the first four digits of your social security number?
0039

What are the last four digits of your social security number?
7691

What number did you leave out of your nine-digit social security number? (That’s your lucky number!)
0 — what a stupid lucky number. This meme is getting way DUMB!

What are the first four lines of your mailing address?
Daring Manor
57993 West Darrington Circle
Seattle Suburarina, WA
98888

What are your four favorite banks?
My piggy bank
The banks of the Puget Sound
Secret Agent Cody
I’ll have whatever Dan’s having.

What are your four favorite bean dishes?
White Chicken Cilantro Chili
Uncle Brent’s Baked Beans
Refried Beans by Grammy
Papa’s Famous Fiendish Bean-Dish

What four people do you wish to tag with this meme?
Why stop at four? I would like all of my readers to fill this out as soon as may be. I would especially encourage those who make a combined annual income of over $300,000 to complete it, as they are richer and will therefore have more fun playing this game.

This information will be collected and used in any way deemed appropriate by aforementioned Daring Young Mom or her subsidiaries.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Enchiladas = Hospitality

July 9, 2006 by Kathryn

All restaurants are called “towns” in our household. When we leave our little corner of suburbia and head to where the shopping is, I tell the kids, “We’re going to town.” Eventually that transformed into, “Hey, let’s go eat at town,” and finally last month as we walked through the airport, Laylee pointed out the food court by saying, “Hey! They’ve got a BUNCH of LITTLE TOWNS here!”

town

One of our favorite towns is “Enchilada Town,” Laylee’s name for any Mexican restaurant, most specifically the one down the street where everybody knows your name because your name is always Niña or Niño if you’re under the age of 23.

For a long time I wondered why so many Hispanic kids were named Niña. I was also horrified that anyone could name their daughter Hermana when I saw the list of “sister” missionaries in our church bulletin and it included a girl who’d gone to El Salvador. Hermana Leslie Pennington. I mean, Leslie’s a good enough middle name, but Hermana? That’s just cruel.

I am not so good with the Spanish but we love Enchilada Town because they’re so warm and inviting there. (Never mind that every time I say Enchilada Town, I’m reminded of this video.)

My husband’s parents and three sisters came up this weekend to help us move in and fix things around the house. We have worked them HARD. My goal this afternoon when they get home from church is to fabricate some semblance of hospitality to lull them into a sense of vacation-esque security before I hand them paint rollers tomorrow morning at early-o’clock in the AM.

My plan is to make chicken enchiladas for dinner this evening, despite the fact that I had to stay home with “sick” kids. Laylee had a fairly high fever last night and is now medicating with a healthy dose of animation therapy and play doh, not ingested, just “tasted” repeatedly.

Magoo’s not so much “sick” as he is “sick of” sitting still (yeah, right) for 3 hours at church every Sunday. 5 months till he’s old enough to attend the children’s nursery and we’re counting down the days. That kid is an adorable wreaker of havoc. Most women like to have the contents of their purse emptied out but there are always those select few who don’t enjoy sitting through Sunday school with a lap-full of tampons and chewing gum. To each her own, I guess.

So this afternoon, there will be food, fun, and everyone will be called something with an enyay. Tomorrow, it’s back to work!

Filed Under: Around Town

The Lake House — Not a Horror Movie

July 7, 2006 by Kathryn

In the past I’ve reviewed books on this site but I don’t remember doing a full-on movie review. Since I’ve shared my English majorness with you, I think it’s time I whipped out my Film majorly skeelz.

Over-run with boxes, expecting company tomorrow to come help us get some serious work done, I decided the best course of action was to ditch my responsibilities and head out for a latenight movie with Karlita.

We decided on The Lake House, although every time we hear the title we both think it’s a horror movie masquerading as a Nicholas-Sparks-style chick flick. There was no horror. A bad cream turtleneck sweater on the ever-so well-postured Mr. Reeves, but no real horror to speak of.

We had our concerns about Keanu but he was not nearly as wooden as Al Gore in this role and even managed to relax his neck for two or three scenes. More disturbing to me was how Christopher Plummer begins to look more and more like Old Mrs. Harris from the Anne of Green Gables movies as he ages. And he seems to die a lot. In fact, he’s died so much in movies that I was surprised to see him in this one and playing a jerk too, not something I like to see done by Captain von Trapp.

piratey thingsThere were a ton of people pretending to be a pirate (at the theatre, not on The Lake House — Arrrr). I know that sounds strange and it was. Several people were pretending to be one pirate. One guy was the eye patch, another one the pock-marked nose, while 5 other guys dressed up as the remaining toes. Okay, it’s late. But there were many many pirates at the theatre. For fear of having my deck swabbed or something, I restrained myself from taking pictures of them but I guess they were all lined up to see Jerry Bruckheimer’s latest triumph.

Can you think of any other producer who gets top billing above the director? Me neither. He smells of money so people show up. And he’s got The Depp, Legolas, and that really popular British girl with the long skinny neck who looks like Natalie Portman.

Anyway, we were not seeing Pirates of the Caribbean: Revenge of the Guy With Worms for a Beard at 12:01am so we did not have to stand in a line stretching to the Karate Dojo, nor were we required to superglue a parrot to our shoulder.

We were required to buy matching “gourmet” pretzels with “cheese” sauce.

pretzel

So, the movie is about Keanu Reeves dressing in Shabby Scruffy Lumberjack Chic style (which I find highly attractive until the turtlenecks begin to surface for the anti-climactic climax) and Sandra Bullock trying to convince us that she’s a very sad and haunted young doctor, the kind who went to medical school.

That’s basically the plot in a nutshell. The long version includes a time portal mailbox where they send letters back and forth across a 2 year time gap, sort of like that Hallmark Hall of Fame movie, The Love Letter, only in miniature. It ends with her doing something that would have stopped the whole movie from happening in the first place, except instead it brings Keanu Reeves back to her so they can kiss peckishly and walk off arm-in-turtle-necked-arm.

The final kisses are just not very satisfying. Never Been Kissed — great kissing. However that movie had the word “kiss” in the title. This movie was not called “Kiss at the Lake House” or even “Lovin’ at the Lake House.” I should be lucky there was any romance at all, since the word romance was also conspicuously absent from the title. I have to give credit where credit is due. The move most certainly did contain a Lake House.

It also contained great lines, just lame enough for Keanu to deliver perfectly, like “She’s more real to me than any of that stuff.” The stuff, yes, the stuff. If she’s more real than the stuff, you’ve definitely got a keeper on your hands, Ted. You should probably plant a stolen tree outside her luxury apartment complex in downtown Chicago. No one will ever notice it’s there… except the girl… and then she’ll be in love with you, ba-da-bing!

Now the writing in this movie wasn’t nearly as bad as Star Wars Episode II, which coincidentally starred that girl who looks like Natalie Portman, or was it HER look-alike? Anywho, the worst romantic line of all time occurred there, something akin to, “I hate sand. Sand is rough and coarse. But you are not rough and coarse. You (stroking her skin) are soft and smooth.” At least that’s the way Dan says it to me when we’re re-enacting and doing scene-work.

Speaking of posers, there was one good passionate moment in the movie. Never mind that it made no sense for Sandra Bullock to be making out with Keanu Reeves, whom she’d never met before, at her birthday party, being held at her boyfriend’s house, which she later denied, saying that only Junior High kids “make out.” Um, sorry, NU-UH. I make out all the time and Junior High? I was too busy collecting key chains and playing in the band to make out with anyone. Duh! Wasn’t everybody? I mean besides sad-for-no-real-reason-haunted-by-their-unexplained-tragic-past doctor-types.

Anyway, the passion, the slow dancing, the nuzzling = good, the kind of scene we look for in an escapist mom’s-night-out kind of movie. They were dancing to a song that Karli and I decided we liked. I said I liked it except for the fact that the guy singing it sounded like he was trying to sound like that one not-dead Beatle. You mean, Paul McCartney? Yes, him, not the train conductor drummer guy.

So it turns out the song is by Paul McCartney who is apparently so pathetic that he can’t even do a good impersonation of himself. But we like it and will probably buy the CD to recapture the moment, not the nose-nuzzling moment, but the moment in the theatre when we discovered who was singing and almost laughed ourselves into a seizure.

It may not be his fault. He could have recorded it 2 years from now… in the future. Everything sounds different in the future. He could be doing an impression of the 2006 version of himself. Karli figures if they have the time travel technology available to use in the movie, why not use it in the recording studio too, see if any of the audience members are ept enough to pick up on it.

I would definitely lift my left pinky toe for this movie. Thumbs? Not so much.

Filed Under: Around Town, Reviews and Giveaways

The Unbearable Finality of Parental Momentum…

July 5, 2006 by Kathryn

…to a child who knows the order of things.

We’re big on schedules at our house. The bedtime ritual is so set in stone that our kids know once things are set in motion, there’s no escaping it. You are on your way to the cage of torture and endless night dreamland the moment the first step of bedtime begins and there ain’t nothing you can do about it.

What’re you gonna do big boy, cry for you mom? MWAHAHAHA!

Magoo has become so sensitive to it that when I pick him up in the evening and say, “Okay…” his bottom lip curls down and he starts the piteous wail that is his futile attempt to stay up late and watch me blog, a highly enjoyable activity around these parts. Really, people come from miles around to watch me type, mostly small children trying to avoid being put in the clink for 10-12 hours.

Alas, resistance is futile and the little dudes are snoring away upstairs while I attend to all things geeky and internetly.

And in recent Laylee lingo we get, “Mom, I love you, but I’m gonna put my shoes on,” and “I just don’t feel very special today.”
Me: Laylee, you are so special. Come here for a snuggle.
Laylee: Well, I don’t feel very special. I haven’t felt special for a couple of weeks now.

It would be heartbreaking if it weren’t so funny. I’m not quite sure what to do about that one, except squidge her until she feels somethin’, special or otherwise.

Filed Under: Parenting

Modern Times

July 3, 2006 by Kathryn

New House = New Address = Address Changes

Credit Card Recording: Para español, oprima número dos (that’s what I heard anyway)
Me [oprima-ing nothing]
CCR: Hello. Welcome to Credit Card Central. I now have the ability to understand your vocal commands.
Me: Hm.
CCR: I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that. I’ll try that again. Please choose from the following menu options. To cancel your credit card, say “cancel.” To change your account information, say “change account.”
Me: Change account.
CCR: You’d like to change your account information? Okay.
Magoo [blowing into cardboard tube]: OOOwwwwoooooooooooooo
CCR: I’m sorry. I didn’t understand. Please select one of the following-
Laylee: Isn’t that chicken hat HILARIOUS??!!
CCR: I’m sorry. I didn’t understand. Please sel-
Magoo [blamming his head]: AAAHHHH. Waahhhhh!!!!
CCR: I’m sorry. I’m having trouble understanding you. Please-
Laylee [clapping her hands loudly right next to my head]
CCR: I’m sorry. I didn’t —
Magoo [opening the dvd player and attempting to snap the tray off]: Abagabagwakkawakkablabala aaaaooooooo
CCR: I’ll get someone to help you.

Thanks. I’d like that. Can she cook? Change diapers? Explain why Doc is the only “dwar-av” whose name is not an adjective?

Filed Under: Technology

This Post is For Me

July 2, 2006 by Kathryn

It’s been a year and a month since the initial crash, the day when the harsh realities of despair and evil in the world became the only realities I could conjure up.

That means it’s been almost a year since I was patched, since a dam went up in my brain to stop the hemorrhage of anxiety, since the walls went up around my family to block out anything frightening, anything that would trigger an attack, since I became fragile.

And I do so well.

And occasionally I do so not.

And whenever I have a moment like I did this evening, a reason-I-bought-the-waterproof-mascara-even-though-I-can’t-get-any-solvent-to-completely-remove-it-and-if-I-wear-it-more-than-twice-a-week-it-looks-like-caterpillars-curled-up-and-died-on-my-eyelids kind of moment, I am more upset about the existence of the anxiety and panic attacks than I am anxious or panicky.

And I scare my daughter when I cry for “no reason.”

And after a year, I ask myself if I will ever be the same again… and I realize that’s a stupid question because when are we ever the same?

We move houses, we have children, we lose people we love, we walk down the street, we stay in the sun too long, we go to the bathroom, we live life for 3 minutes and we’re not the same.

I really wonder when I will ever be as good again, when I’ll ever be whole and I wonder what that means for a mother, a wife. In truth it seems that part of me leaves the room whenever Dan, Laylee or Magoo are not there. And I’m scared for them and I’m afraid of being afraid.

The more I have to love, the more I have to fear and this seems wrong. And I know I am not alone and I know how to bring peace into my life again after it barges out the door but I don’t want to have to restore it. I want it ever-present. I want what I made fun of Wayne Dyer for suggesting. I want the free-ride.

Then I look at the positive changes in myself over the last year and I would never wish them away. How do you learn to walk, run or eventually fly without first biffing it hundreds of times?

I’m tired of being sculpted; I just want a fairy godmother to poof me into perfection.

Filed Under: Aspirations

« Previous Page

Primary Sidebar

Buy the Books!

Drops of Awesome Journal

Inspiration Straight to Your Inbox

Visit Us On FacebookVisit Us On TwitterVisit Us On PinterestVisit Us On YoutubeVisit Us On LinkedinCheck Our Feed
523 Ways to Be Awesome
Bucket of Awesome

Other Places to Find Me

Amazon Author Page
Familius (My Publisher - Best Place for Bulk Book Orders)
How Does She?
Parenting
I'm a Mormon

Life on the Instagram

[instagram-feed]

So Many Drops

  • November 2020
  • February 2019
  • December 2018
  • March 2018
  • November 2017
  • September 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013
  • November 2013
  • October 2013
  • September 2013
  • August 2013
  • June 2013
  • May 2013
  • March 2013
  • February 2013
  • January 2013
  • December 2012
  • November 2012
  • October 2012
  • September 2012
  • August 2012
  • July 2012
  • May 2012
  • March 2012
  • February 2012
  • November 2011
  • October 2011
  • September 2011
  • August 2011
  • May 2011
  • April 2011
  • March 2011
  • February 2011
  • January 2011
  • December 2010
  • November 2010
  • October 2010
  • September 2010
  • August 2010
  • July 2010
  • June 2010
  • May 2010
  • April 2010
  • March 2010
  • February 2010
  • January 2010
  • December 2009
  • November 2009
  • October 2009
  • September 2009
  • August 2009
  • July 2009
  • June 2009
  • May 2009
  • April 2009
  • March 2009
  • February 2009
  • January 2009
  • December 2008
  • November 2008
  • October 2008
  • September 2008
  • August 2008
  • July 2008
  • June 2008
  • May 2008
  • April 2008
  • March 2008
  • February 2008
  • January 2008
  • December 2007
  • November 2007
  • October 2007
  • September 2007
  • August 2007
  • July 2007
  • June 2007
  • May 2007
  • April 2007
  • March 2007
  • February 2007
  • January 2007
  • December 2006
  • November 2006
  • October 2006
  • September 2006
  • August 2006
  • July 2006
  • June 2006
  • May 2006
  • April 2006
  • March 2006
  • February 2006
  • January 2006
  • December 2005
  • November 2005
  • October 2005
  • September 2005
  • August 2005

Copyright © 2025 · Foodie Pro Theme by Shay Bocks · Built on the Genesis Framework · Powered by WordPress