Kate's Motel

What you don't know about your bedspread won't hurt you.

The Six List of New Year’s Resolutions

The Six List is a list of six categorically related items. What makes them related, or how they are related, is entirely up to moi.
Why six? Cause 4 isn’t enough, five is so cliché, and ten would be just pretentious (I love this word).

Instead of making resolutions that I know I can’t follow through with, I think it would be so much easier to make a list that I know I can live with, and that way I won’t feel like warmed up shit when June rolls around and I haven’t done anything that I said I was going to do.

6. Give up a vice.
Smoking, drinking, overeating, prostitution…these are apparently the vices that the do-gooders of the world are talking about when they tell you to give it up.  All I have to say to that is:  My vices could be a whole lot worse.

I’ve never sold my son’s Playstation to pay for weed, and I’m pretty sure that no sexual favor has ever been exchanged for monetary gifts or otherwise.

This year I resolve to only smoke after I’ve overeaten AND had a nice stiff mojito with my meal.

5. Take better care of yourself.
You mean I’m going to have to join a gym or give up my Cokes?  This is not an option.  I’ve tried cutting out the sugar in my diet.  It was not a pretty time in my life.  The Coca-cola keeps me sane, and you alive.

For the safety of the entire planet, I resolve to drink more Coke.

4. Read more.
I’ve read the entire Stephen King collection (some twice), almost all of the classics, Anne Rice, Lemony Snicket, J.K. Rowlings, The Brothers Grimm, Nora Roberts (in my younger days), John McCammon, The Twilight series, Dean Koontz, and countless books on the metaphysical side of life.

This year I resolve to progress to adding a biography here and there.  Something on Willy Wonka, maybe.

3. Swearing less.
What the fuck?  How am I supposed to accurately convey my anger at the idiots that come through this hotel if I can’t swear?  I guess it’s not acceptable for everyone at all times, but it’s not like I go into church to tell the preacher that I think he’s an asshole for not even remembering my dad’s name when dad was in the hospital having heart surgery.  Don’t ask me for a picture of my dad because you can’t seem to place the name.  Fuck you.

But I didn’t say that out loud.

This year, I resolve to drop the F-bomb less than 20 times a day.

2. Being more decisive and standing up for myself.
I think I got that covered.  I resolve to continue telling the people that talk to me as if I’m no smarter than Corky, exactly where they can go and what they can do with their self-imposed, guilt-soothing bullshit.

1.Learning how to do something new.
Something that most of you don’t know about me…I played piano for 20 years before I had Ryan, and had to learn to live with playing Fur Elise with a toddler tinkling at the top of the keyboard for the duration of the song.  When I asked Ryan last month if he wanted me to teach him how to play the piano, he informed me that he already knew.

K: “Well when did you learn?”
R: “I was born knowing.”

He gets that smartassedness from me.  He gets the know-it-all personality from his father.

For the year of 2010, I resolve to learn how to counteract my son’s smartass answers with even better smartass answers of my own.

Cross your fingers, the year’s almost up.

December 30, 2009 Posted by | advice | , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Only Way To Improve A Coke Is To Put Rum Or Bourbon In It.

Lord knows I love a good Coke. It does nothing less than THRILL me that I live 20 minutes away from The World of Coca-Cola in Atlanta. If left to my own devices, I would drink Coke at every meal, immediately upon waking, AND right before falling asleep. Summarily, I would gladly hook up to an I.V. of Coca-Cola if it was possible. Diet Coke is blasphemy.

Lately, I’ve been only having Cokes when I go to work on the weekends. It’s just getting harder and harder to justify spending more than 5 bucks on a case of Coke these days when it’s only going to last for a maximum of 72 hours.

Imagine my surprise when I opened the refrigerator yesterday morning to find a fresh, unopened 20oz bottle of Coke sitting on the bottom shelf. I looked at it for a minute, convincing myself that it was really there and not some figment of my caffeine deprived imagination. When it didn’t disappear before my eyes, I closed the fridge door and set off to find Doo.

He’s SO good to me. He MUST have known that I was craving that sugary goodness and he brought me my fix. He’s the best man in the whole wide world and I love him so very much and I’m so glad that he just does awesome stuff like that to make me feel better when he knows that I must be missing my bestest friend in the universe cause she’s having her baby without me and he’d like to buy the world a Coke and keep it company because it’s ‘the real thing’ and maybe just maybe I should verify that my assumptions are correct before I drink it like some crackwhore who just blew the dog because that’s what her dealer said she had to do before he’d give her any smack.

“Doo? Umm…is that Coke in the fridge for me?”

“Nope.”

Silence.

No explanation. Just Nope.

In my initial shock I reasoned that Doo must have bought the Coke for himself to take to work the next day so that he didn’t have to waste time stopping at the convenience store before getting to the office. That shock wore off fairly quickly. The thought occurred to me that he might have been kidding. Doo does that frequently, and in our honeymoon phase of the relationship I’m still learning what’s a joke and what isn’t.

I decided I wasn’t going to touch the Coke.

So this morning, as Doo was walking out the door, I stopped him.

“Wait, you’re forgetting something.” I walked back to the fridge and pulled out the bottle. “Your Coke.”

“Oh. No, I don’t want it right now. Just put it back,” he says.

My composure slipped.

“You mean to tell me that you’re going to let in sit in that fridge and make me stare at it all day and not let me have any of it?!?!? Seriously?!?”

“Well the only reason I bought it to begin with is because they were on sale, two for $2.”

This is the moment that my eyes glazed over. The world was turning gray and suddenly it no longer mattered that other people existed on the planet besides me and the bottle of fresh, unopened Coca-Cola that I was currently white-knuckling.

Doo had already HAD one Coke.

You say they were on sale, two for $2, Doo?

You should have bought four.

December 15, 2009 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , | Leave a comment