But I'm A Cheerleader

"I'm a homosexual! I'm a homosexual! I'm a homosexual! Oh my god... they were right. I'm a homo."

So, I wanted to share my thoughts on Glee, in this week's Gleecap. I'll do that tomorrow. For tonight though, I give you my disjointed notes from this week's episodes. All times are based on my illegally downloaded copy of the show and will be fixed once they're released on DVD.

Kudos on the return of the mailman.

The only two girls in high school who won't put out- I effing wish.

Do you think The Nutcracker's just a musical?

Outfit 1: White collar grey button down with a gold lamé bowtie, and a three-quarters length wool duster!?

Outfit 1 - The latest fall fashions from Hot Topic ftw?

Return of the mohawk

"wow what a catch, can't believe i ever let you go"

Worst drum roll ever.

Lines from mercedes: how are we supposed to compete against a bunch of adorable old people.

The boys beat us the alst time we competed against them. We need to bring the noise HARD this time.


"Hold up like a milliona wesome gay jokes just popped into my head."

"Kurt, I'm gonna say it again. Boy's team."

Artie is the whitest white kid ever in the history of mankind.

"Slow down professor x, i never said anything about liking you. Now shut up right quick."

I don't know what that it, but if I foind out it's bad the fury's gonna find you.

This is my hill to climb alone.

I've totally done that.

Outfit 2: horizontal stripes, untied bowtie built in and skinny jeans.

Why does he own a paperdoll version of himself?

Quinn owns way too many idols of the Virgin Mary.

"Who would rather be dry-humping she-hulk."

It was somebody's job to make these pictures of Bieste.

09:00 first song
09:19 Random old bitch at school?!

Why are there people with steel drums hanging out in the Quad?

10:10 outrageously gay hair

Outfit 3:  Worst spyjob ever.

Attack of the disappearing 5 o'clock shadow.

Unacceptably cute cuteness.

12:30 Second sogn, but best

Worst dance moves ever.

Gaysian  with a HUGE mouth.

Unacceptable hair/dancing

TINA AND MIKE DON'T FUCK?! WHAT?!

Cigar + tutu?!

You crap on my leg, I'll cut it off.

Why do Mike Chang and Sam Evans wear shirts? I feel like it should be a school mandate than involves them being shirtless at all times.

Outfit: Unacceptable patterns. NOT OK KURT!

Heart to heart, including a rather laughable use fo the word "pissed"

Be Mean to girls, they'll like you

Horse sweater?! Dear Glee, Blossom called, they want their sweater-vests back.

Dine and Dash? He's in a fucking wheelchair! This presents some logistical issues.

25:30 Zero transition in third song, which was a horrible piece of shit. Like seriously, not ok. It was just plain pathetic. Did rachel raid her Sandy closet again? Where did Mercedes find this ungodly ensemble?

CUTE TEXT MESSAGE!

124 emails? Shit Kurt! PS: where are the rest ofyour apps dude? Shit be looking all kinds of empty.

White ties are not ok, Mr. Schu3

Outfit: Is he wearing another skirt?! No, jsut shorts with knee high boots

Bucket List: Two confetti cannons + Cackle.

Why didn't you pick your phone up off of the floor, Kurt?

DAVID KAROFSKY IS GAY?! BOMB!  He's not so chubby either, he's kind of cute actually. He looks a bit like i did while in AZ actually... dammit, now this scene is going to ahve all kinds of undertones.

BEST SHOCKED look ever.

If everyone just put out, we would have a winning football team.

angstangstangstangstangstangstangstangst

"well he's not coming out anytime soon"

Most terrifying kiss EVAR!

38:44 So, did kurt create the Courage Shrine, or is Blaine a creeper who put it up in his locker because kurt's iphone got broked?

39:56 final song, sucked just as much as the other mash up.

Did anybody else notice that Kurt's left hand covered his heart when everybody else used their right hand?

Wheelchairs ruin group hugs.

Were The World Mine

"If you could make someone love you, would you?"

So, let me begin by saying that I have had some time to cool down in this regard. Let me also state that Katrina didn't vote. Similarly noted would be the fact that I did vote. These things said, I would like it to be known that those who didn't vote forfeit their right to bitch, moan, groan, whine or complain. Likewise, anybody who voted for a third party or a write-in candidate threw their vote away and should go the route of Raphus cucullatus and just go away already. Nobody wants you here until we get a true third-party option. (If anybody brings up Ralph Nader, I will hunt you down, kill you and use your skin to bind pamphlets about the upcoming homostruggle.) Now that I've got all of that out of the way...

CONGRATULATIONS! Ladies and gentlemen, we have managed to push Civil rights back about forty years! You should all be very proud of yourselves! I anticipate that within the next year we will see riots comparable to Stonewall. Think I'm overreacting? I don't. In fact, I can cite instances in modern history, within the past year where violence and denial of basic civil rights to homosexuals has led to a palpable sense of impending reaction. So far, we've managed to keep our cool. We're gay, we spontaneously excrete culture in all of its many forms. We can't be seen as aggressors. We have a sense of decorum and presentation to maintain. I don't see either lasting much longer at this point.

Taking into account the recent string of suicides by young men in direct response to anti-gay bullying as well as the social conservative take over that we as voters are now responsible for, I can see no other logical outcome than a full-out, no-holds-barred, brawl between the intelligent masses, and the fuckwad conservative douche-tools.

I suggested, in jest, during my election post, that I was expecting to see Separate But Equal pop up again only sub gay for black. I swear, I was just joking, then a couple of days ago, at work, a group of us were standing outside taking a break, when the subject of gay rights came up. Now, I'm out at work. Everybody knows Josh likes boys, so I'm sure the more conservative people were holding back, when one of them said, "I don't care if the gays get their way, I just don't wanna see it. Why don't we just make gay schools for them to teach at? and like make gay bathrooms so they don't look at my junk and stuff."

Are you kidding me? Really? Somebody actually came up with this thought. Somebody, in our country, in the year 2010, managed to genuinely think this is a good idea? What? WHAT?! I can just see it now, Gay Schools filled with Home Economics, Choir, and Lady Gaga Appreciation 101! All of the teachers are kept abreast of the latest Fall fashions so as to punish those students dressed unbefitting of their gay station. We'll have our own water fountains, something motion activated of course because we can't possibly be brought to touch the fountain itself. We'll have our own bathrooms just a little to the left of your bathrooms, they'll have black lights, and strobes in them and opening the door to take a peek inside will result in a wave of techno and trance music. We'll have gay swimming pools with bubbles and a light show, and even a gay police force to take care of handing out fashion tickets for anybody seen wearing fingerless gloves or anything sold in the As Seen on TV catalog.

You know ... now that I write all that down, why not. Let's do this America! Let's just self-segregate our gay selves. We'll take over Celebration, Florida and create Gaytown, USA. Maybe one day, we can secede and become Gaytown, Gayland the happiest place on earth.

Or, we could grow the fuck up, and recognize that we aren't the first, and won't be the last, group of people to be discriminated against because of something beyond our control. I am deeply disappointed in all of the people of our nation right now, Gay and Straight, everything in-between and beyond. This is the turning point for our society, and we are not making the right decisions. Frankly, when the backwater, bass-ackwards state of Iowa is ahead of the curve on Gay Rights, there must be something wrong.

Soundtrack by Katrina: an introduction and beginning

Someone once told me that when they were riding around in my car, it felt like a movie. This is one of the best compliments I've ever received. I'm a little obsessed with finding the right soundtrack for every single moment, which translates into what I call "Music ADD." My iPod is always plugged in and on shuffle and I am usually hitting next after roughly a second of any song. If it doesn't quite fit what I'm feeling, I'm not happy. So I thought I'd try and share some of what I have discovered.

So you're having a bad day? Try one of these songs (in no particular order) and see if it turns it around for you.

1. A More Glorious Dawn by Carl Sagan ft. Stephen Hawking





That "not in any particular order" thing was sort of BS. This one is first because it came up on shuffle tonight and reminded me to start doing this.

This song falls into roughly the same category as "Do You Realize??" by the Flaming Lips, except that one will not necessarily pull you out of a funk. They both make you feel small, but "A More Glorious Dawn" simultaneously makes you feel like you're part of something bigger. And going "Whooooop, pah, whooooop, pah pah" is fun.

2. Chantilly Lace by The Big Bopper







I dare you to be in a bad mood with this stuck in your head. Seriously, it's impossible. This randomly came up on my drive to work one day, wormed its way into my brain, and pulled me through what, in all honestly, should have been a truly hellish day. Every time my brain decided to go "Helloooooo baby!" I couldn't help but smile. An ounce of ridiculousness can really make a difference.

3. Funny Honey from Chicago








This song is tailor made for days when all you want to do is rage at the universe. It starts out sweet, letting you smile while singing (singing along will increase the efficacy of these songs a trillion-fold. Serious scientific data there), which will help a little. But then, oh sweet lord, you can scream. LORD KNOWS HE AIN'T GOT THE SMARTS! Just rage along, don't sing. Yell it. Don't care who is listening. It helps to have a buddy. Josh and I have successfully employed this one time and time again.

4. The Lonely Goatherd from The Sound of Music








You thought if I went for a Sound of Music song I'd go for My Favorite Things, huh? Well suck it imaginary person who thought they'd see a Sound of Music song on here! My Favorite Things sucks for cheering you up. You'll get stuck on the "When the dog bites..." portion. Trust me.

The Lonely Goatherd is not perfect for turning a day around, but it can be a great way to nip a bad day in the bud, as long as you're willing to be enthusiastic. You will have to yodel along. I cannot emphasize that enough.

5. Hallelujah from Beethoven's Mount of Olives









This one is sort of cheating. It's more of a day divider. Throw this on during a drive home from a bad day at work and listen to that triumph! When we moved crazy far away from my job I would listen to this for the home stretch as a way to say "Okay the crappy portion of my day is over (HALLELUJAH!) and now I will begin the good portion. Apologies if this one makes no sense to anyone else, but I have a weakness for baroque music.

Okay so that was fun. Maybe I'll actually continue this. Expect a lot of sad music!

Election

Tammy Metzler: "It's not like I'm a lesbian or anything. I'm attracted to the person. It's just that all the people I've been attracted to happen to be girls."

CONGRATULATIONS! The elections are done, and it looks like voter turn out this year is the highest it's been in a midterm year since 1982!

"WHAT?! Seriously? Wow! That's amazing, Josh," is what you'd say if i said that with a straight face.

Then, I'd say, "Bringing the nation-wide average to 42%"

42. That means out of every fifty people who were eligible to vote, and could have registered and voted, only 21 of them actually did it. 21. Do you realized how pathetic this is? Originally, I was going to bitch and moan about how civil rights have been pushed back about 40 years. Seriously, the next thing I know I'm going to have to sit in the back of the bus, use a separate water fountain and hell if we start electing more hyper social conservatives, I've already plotted out my path on the homo underground railroad (I'm going to Quebec {Or Iowa}.)

But before I could even start to type that post, I decided to check the stats and frankly, I don't think anybody who didn't vote even gets to know what's happening in the world. In fact, if you didn't vote and you don't have a damn good reason, please take the route of the fictional green lemmings, and  find the nearest ocean or fire pit, or devouring monster-thing and just end yourself as blindly as you've allowed yourself to exist.

I'm serious. Just die. Dammit. I'm too pissed off and frustrated to go on with this post. Expect commentary on Prop 19 and Gay Civil Rights. I might touch on the Fiscal situation, but for now, go and sit in the corner of shame.

Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist

 Drunk Guy in Yugo: "I love you so much, it's retarded."

I suppose another title for this post could be "How to Lose Friends and Alienate People' or maybe "How to Ruin a Straight Boy's Life in Ten Easy Steps" but really, this is just a brief recounting of how I asked Jakob to be my boyfriend. Straight boys, start taking notes right now, because apparently, I have put numerous boyfriends into the dog house with the following tokens of my affections.

It all started with twenty-four roses. Twelve Henri Matisse roses, and twelve Dr. Briere roses were delivered, by me, super-secret-surprise style to Jakob, seen above right afterward, at his dorm room at Peru State College. I was lucky enough to have made it all the way down without him knowing I was even going to be in the area. Which is a stretch, since it was Halloween and I had a party not far away already that I had to keep super secret from him. He was of course ecstatic and commenced wandering through his dorm hall showing them to anybody that would look. This seemingly dumped his straight male friends into a dog-condo, not quite the dog house just yet.

Unbeknownst to him, this trip to his campus was a scouting trip for me. I was searching for the perfect place to ask him out. We went for a walk which consisted primarily of him proving to some of his friends that I existed, up until now, I was a disembodied name on facebook that he had absconded to Omaha for previously. We found a non-operating fountain near the theatre on campus that I knew was perfectly almost instantly. I stored this for later use.

Having met the people most important to him, I made sure to send them friend requests on facebook. I did this because I wanted a secret way of communicating with them without the chance that Jakob would know about it. i concocted a plan to woo him and win him instantly. I had to convince him that the coming Thursday, a very busy day for him that I knew would consist of him not leaving campus for anything, was going to be just as busy for me and that I wouldn't even be able to call or text him throughout the day.

That afternoon, I forced my roomie, Kaka, that's Katrina to you, to help me blow up nearly 300 balloons and prepare them for my grandiose plan. I also went ahead and got some wooden roses, since the living ones were starting to wilt already, and made a series of cue cards for the event. While in no way over the top, it was definitely a sight to see when I arrived at the fountain a little past 5pm, to find 10 of his closest friends waiting for me.

I gave the bags of balloons (and I mean trashbags filled with inflated balloons) to his friends and I tied more balloons with incredibly sparkly ribbon tot he fountain itself. With the wind it gave a very nice illusion of water and frankly, I was satisfied. Jakob was dragged over to the staging area, while I hid behind everybody in the basin of the fountain. The balloons were released and the scattered all over the lawn as I sang 'I Wanna Hold Your Hand' by the Beatles, and one of his friends cycled through the cue cards.

Dear Jakob,

I know it's only been a couple of months

and we've only been on one real date

and we live an hour apart

and I'm a lot older than you

and we're both incredibly busy

but ...

I also know that I like you a lot

and want you to be my boyfriend.

Love, Josh

Needless to say, he accepted my proposal, and we're now dating.

What can you take from this?
a: buy flowers.
b: show up by surprise.
c: balloons = awesome.
d: love kicks ass pretty much.

Probably should've written this when things were still fresh

So the ball the ball is apparently in my court as far as describing our RHPS evening goes, apparently. Let's get through this, shall we?

Imaginary Hipster Boy:

This is one of those weird situations when it seems like one of the involved parties is stalking the other, but really it's just coincidence--right?

We first encountered this sad figure at the Old Dundee, planted alone at the bar. Being people watchers, we made note of him. Maybe made some fun, because hey, it's what we do.

Things got a little weird when we moved on to the 1020. The inside of the bar was intensely crowded, so we vacated to the patio area. Who should we find but this hipster boy, sitting at a table, once again on his own. I feel like he must have some sort of powers involving space-time, because we didn't exactly dawdle when switching bars, nor did I see him leave the Old Dundee, but there he was. I was probably just drunk, but hey, stories are better that way.

We actually struck up a conversation. When I say we I think I mean Josh. Anyway, the stalking came up, as it always will in these coincidental stalking situations, but the more interesting point made was the possibility that this strange lonely hipster was some sort of figment of our imaginations. We hadn't seen anyone else talking to him and he could apparently apparate, so it seemed like a fair conclusion to draw. I don't think the conversation went much farther then that and I seem to remember believing we had scared him off.

All of the theories we had formulated about him had to be thrown out the window later that night. While walking back to our car after the show, we waltzed right past him, talking to someone (!) on the sidewalk. He hollered at us about the stalking, and I was shocked to see him sans hat. The lesson learned is that a stylish hat can really make the difference between hipster and greasy Magic: The Gathering enthusiast. The more you know.

Creepy Chi-Mo Farmer Dad:

It was bluegrass night at the 1020. Some people chose to come in costume. One man chose to dress up as my dad. Well, that probably wasn't his intention, but he basically nailed it (my dad was a larger straw hat, whereas this almost doppleganger had opted for a cowboy hat). He wandered out to the aforementioned patio area and I could not not talk to this guy. I have a really bad tendency to start up conversations I have absolutely no intention of finishing, but this guy would not just let it awkwardly taper off as so many others kindly do. I don't think he was really a child molester, but I described him as creepy and Josh applied his new favorite term to him.

Sexy Cop:

Another patio person. I think we somehow became the "cool" table on the patio, because this girl was all over sitting with us. And she straight jacked my lighter! And then gave it back, but I was concerned for roughly a minute there. We're pretty sure she had a tape recorder. I would say she gets hero status for cornering an employee and getting them to point us in the direction of the restroom though, so kudos to you mysterious sexy cop!

Big Mac:

Probably my favorite character of the evening, and the one we know the least about. We went to McDonald's for some drunchkies (and lo, it was good!) and Josh decides to get them to break his 100, which was a great decision. The girl working the window let out a holler of "BIG MAC!" leading me to wonder if that was a person or an order. Luckily, Big Mac showed up. Seriously. It's just a guy, working at a McDonald's, known to all as Big Mac. I wish I knew more, but it was pretty amazing.

Red Shirt:

After our food we went back to the Old Dundee to drink more and wait until we can buy our tickets/start waiting in line. When we sit down, I notice there are three guys dressed in Star Trek uniforms. Okay I don't know anything about Star Trek, but I do know red shirts exist to get killed, so I have to know how one of these fellas ended up as the Red Shirt. I wander over and ask, but it turns out he wanted to be. Why would you choose this? I guess it's a joke, but really it strikes me more as a punishment. I think I compared it to the lady in the Olive Garden commercial (which I cannot find on the internet right now) who has to pass out breadsticks while her friends do nothing. What did she do to deserve that fate? Basically Red Shirt did not provide me the Olive Garden commercial related closure that I needed, and so for that he deserves his inevitable fate.

The show:

It was a RHPS midnight show. Screaming, props, etc. Good times, but nothing too notable.

And I think that's everything we were supposed to cover? Sorry if that was mainly nonsensical, but at least it's out of the way now? I should stop ending sentences with question marks.

Mystic Pizza

Daisy : I fucked up.
C.G. Windsor Jr. : Yeah... but you gave it a 100% effort!

I know, I know. I promised the greatness of our RHPS adventures. I was actually writing my first exploration of adventures when I got really hungry at about 2:30 this afternoon, and decided to order some pizza to be delivered shortly after I got home this afternoon. The only pizza place that delivers to my apartment in Papillion, is Godfather's Pizza. So, I head on over to Godfathers.com because 15 year old phone operators are retarded and fail miserably at taking orders and getting things right.

I make a VERY simple order.
1 large 3-topping pizza. (Italian sausage, Jalapeño and Pineapple with stuffed crust party sliced because square slices taste better.)
1 order of chicken wings.
1 order of potato wedges.

Total comes up to $27.25, I confirm the order, and the payment goes through and I relax at home waiting for my pizza, which should show up by about 4 pm.

At 3:15 I get a call from the store, I recognize the phone number (don't judge me) and the manager tells me that the order payment didn't go through and she needs my card number again. So I give it to her, and she confirms that the payment went through. She says it will be there in 45 minutes max, and I sit to wait.

At about 4:15 I get a courtesy call from my bank telling me that I have had three very similar charges recently, two for $27.25 and one for $27.50 and that the most recent has overdrawn my account. So, I log in to my online account management and check my transactions. Now, I've got plenty of cash in my pocket right now, I just haven't had time to swing by the bank and won't for at least 24 hours, at which point fixing the overdraft is impossible. Two of the charges are legit, one for filling up the car's tank when I went to visit friends on Sunday, and the other from the pizza order, yet the third is ANOTHER charge from Godfathers.

Now, I'm going to be very clear. I am very understanding. I am very forgiving. I have a very short temper. I can go from zero to bitch in a speed that will make Kenyan runners collapse in shock and awe. At this point, the pizza is late. I am on hold. My card has been charged twice. I have an overdraft fee pending. To round it all out, I'm hungry.

Taylor, the 12-year-old manager with a lisp and a penchant for saying sorry makes a vain attempt to explain what happened and why I was charged twice and how he's going to work to get me my money back and then says it will be a few days for them to refund my money. HA! So, while on the phone with him, the delivery drive shows up at about 4:30, 30 minutes after the original delivery time, I tip the driver because the guy deserves it for the pissy manager he's about to go meet back at the store.

I sit down to eat some pizza, and the fucking this is incorrectly sliced. Seriously? Really? Are you mother-fucking fucking goddamn fucking fucking kidding me?! Bitch-mode.

At the risk of sounding like a cunt, today, I ended up paying $87.50 for an incorrect pizza and two sides. I am livid.

I... don't know.

Before all of those things that have been previously mentioned, I'd like to bring you something that exists only to prove to Josh that I can "accomplish" stuff.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

"It's astounding, time is fleeting, madness takes its toll."

It's Friday, the 29th of October. Kaka and Josh have decided that the only logical place to be, and thing to do on the Friday preluding the best holiday of the year, is the midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show at Omaha's historic Dundee Theatre. It isn't often that we have the opportunity to go to the midnight shows at Dundee. I usually head into work at god-hates-me-o'clock in the morning so it's not easy to get out late at night and catch a movie; especially one that requires plenty of lead-in and recovery. This is halloween weekend though, my favorite night of the year, so I feel like I *need* this despite having to go into work at 4 the next morning.

Kaka, that's Katrina to you, shows up at the apartment a little before 6:00 pm and we decide to get dressed. Half because I want to have plenty of time to do my make-up, half because I want to go shopping and get food before we go, half because I want to get some drinks before hand, and half because I just want to be ridiculous. We do our hair and make-up. I go light and understated because I'm very classic and demure and don't want to make a big deal. That is where the sarcasm ends, hell, I'm a boy in a damn dress. Not just a dress, an effing ball-gown I look like Frank & Magenta had a love child and then had sex with her. In short, I'm effing fabulous.

Miss Katrina dons a dress she borrowed from me, and her 'Gaga' blazer. The slit on the side of the dress is like DAMN, and the blazer was part of a fantastic Masquerade costume from back in May. We topped off her look with a pair of RealD glasses with the lenses popped out, very brad-chic. So we're dressed, we're looking good, feeling good, being all kinds of smexy, and we decide to head out.

We need to make a few stops up in this bitch 'fo we get on our way.
1: Walmart - I need new eyelashes and fake nails.
2: Home - To get Katrina's phone because it needs charged.
3: Goodwill - To show off and pick up long-gloves.
4: My Mom's - For costuming assistance.
5: The Old Dundee Bar - For drinks.
6: The 1020 - For more drinks.
7: McDonald's - For Bad-For-Us Foodstuffs
8: The Old Dundee Bar - For More Drinks again.
9: The Theatre - For the movie, duh.

We go to Walmart and make the heterosexuals uncomfortable. Keep in mind, we live in Nebraska, accepting that it is Halloween Weekend, we are still less-than acceptably dressed. I make my purchases, and Kaka gets what she needs,the whole time amusedly discussing the lack of comfort we're spreading through the store. It always brings me great joy to make people feel creeped out, it's like a game for me.

We run home, get Kaka's phone and grab my pink flask from the freezer. It's filled with some pretty intense vodka, and we collect ourselves for the lengthy journey into Omaha to Kaka's workplace, which isn't far from my mother's house.

Fast-forward. We meet the gayest man ever, which is a lot coming from me. We go to see my mother and her DOTM, then onward to say hello to my grandmother, and then to Midtown/Dundee. The BIGGEST LONG ISLAND EVAR was accompanied by a glimpse of a stalky hipster boy, but I don't want to get into him just yet. I'm going to let Kaka pick which of the characters we each get to talk about over the next few blog posts. I feel like this night was just too damn much to squeeze into one posting.

So the charactes and stories from th evening are as follows:
1: Imaginary Hipster Boy
2: Creepy Chimo-Farmer Dad
3: Big Mac (with cheese)
4: Red Shirts (they always die first)
5: The Show (of the rocky picture and horror varieties)
6: Sexy Copper with a Tape Recorder

So titles are sort of mandatory?

I have been putting this blog post off for at least a couple of months because I hate trying to sum myself up. It’s not like I’m this super amazing entity whose super-power is being impossible to describe. There are just so many other things to talk about, but I’ve come to the conclusion that if I would ever like to address anything else I have to cover the subject of myself first. Or that’s at least how Josh feels.

I can find merit in almost anything. Honestly. As a result I take a lot of really ridiculous things far too seriously. If you get me on a subject I can, and most likely will, ramble on about it until you feel something akin to brain freeze, or so I’ve been told. Wow I’m not really doing a good job selling myself here, let’s start over:

Hey internet! It’s Katrina! I kick ass! I am at least as cool as you are, future loyal reader, if not far cooler. I am constantly having an amazing time, hanging out with a crowd populated by only the hippest people in the—

Oh who am I kidding? If I’m not working, I’m generally at home hitting the Stumble button until I go to bed. I’m not a hermit, but going out is just so taxing. I guess that’s another thing you know about me: I’m ridiculously introverted. Despite what I said about StumbleUpon like five seconds ago, I am pretty good at entertaining myself. My brain (and I say that because I feel no real control over this process) takes just about everything to a ridiculous place. I guess that’s why I want to get this post out of the way so bad. I have all of these outrageous thoughts and I’m tired of keeping them to myself.

Bring It On

I'm sexy, I'm cute! I'm popular to boot!
I'm bitchin' , great hair! The boys all love to stare!
I'm wanted, I'm hot! I'm everything your not!
I'm pretty, I'm cool! I dominate the school!
Who am I? Just guess! Guys wanna touch my chest!
I'm rockin'! I smile! And many think I'm vile.
I'm flyin', I jump! You can look but don't you hump! Whoo!
I'm major, I roar! I swear I'm not a whore!
We cheer and we lead! *clapclap*
We act like we're on speed! *clapclap*
You hate us cause we're beautiful well we don't like you either!
We're cheerleaders! We are cheerleaders! Roll Call!

Hi! I'm Josh. Joshua to my enemies, Joshie to my friends, Kaeden to some other friends that I only really talked to for like a month when Katrina and I were trying to be different people than the people we are, which led to a lot of confusion and ambiguous weirdness and sex but I digress.This is my introductory post. Katrina says I have to post mine before she'll post hers.

If I were secretly-insecure, pompous, or I wanted you to like me, I would say that I never know what to say in these things, and that I don't like to talk about myself. Those words would be lies. The fact of the matter is that I love to talk about myself, find it hard to stop sometimes, and will spend most of my spare time thinking about what I would say in response to various questions about myself, my attitudes and the life I lead. I promise to limit myself though. Most of what makes me myself you'll probably learn through the course of this blog, and everything else is unimportant.

The most important parts of me can be summed up into 3 key points.

1: I'm 26. This is important because I've crossed the quarter-century mark, which means that I'm not a girl, not yet a woman. Wait ... That's not right. I'm not very old at all, but I've accomplished plenty and squeezed a lot into these 26 years. The one downside is that I'm pretty much on my deathbed in gay years. Which brings me to important note 2.

2: I'm gay. Well, that's the simple word. Really, I fall in love with people based on their personalities, souls, cute butts and adorability. Genitals don't really play into the equation. Strangely, aside from a couple girlfriends, boys seem to be the best bet for my personality type. So, to make things easier, I just say I'm gay. It keeps people from paying too much attention to my love life.

3: I live for music. Period. It is my life-force. Music is the blood in my veins and the words that get caught in my larynx. They fill me up with purpose and direction. The way to my heart is through song and flattery. The way to convince me of your worth is to quote obscure lyrics. A common game of mine is for friends and I to try and trip each other up on facebook by guessing the titles associated with obscure lyrics.

So, that's me.

The Tiny Hat Parade: Episode IV: A New Hope

It is a period of civil unrest. A gay man named Joshua, wearing fanciful scarves in an undisclosed city called Papillion, has won his first two-person dwelling with the mysterious Madame Katrina. During the relocation, Joshua suggested the establishment of a blog intended to communicate secret plans at world-domination using the Empire's ultimate weapon, the TINY HAT, a magnificent exercise in fantastical frivolity with the power to destroy naysayers. Pursued by Katrina's sinister plots to live a life of fabulousness, the Tiny Hat Parade establishes facebook, twitter, blogspot and email accounts. This is our mission, to save our people and restore freedom to the galaxy ....

Copyright infringement FTW? Well, here we are, another new blog inserted delicately into the blogsphere. If by delicately you mean without bells and whistles, and by blogsphere you mean the collective rectum, then you would be correct in your assumptions. I would like to say that the plans for our blog are lofty. I would like to say that this was a last-minute decision that we decided upon last night and set up in just a few short moments. In fact, this is nearly four months in the making. it all began with a Masquerade Party back in May, and has slowly developed into jesting comments, unwritten introduction posts, an empty twitter account and constant badgering to blog already.

So, without too much adieu, I present Five Ws!

Who (we are): We are Joshua and Katrina. We are a pair of 20-somethings with a penchant for the extreme, and leaning towards bitchiness, and an ardent appreciation for music that borders on insanity and frankly crosses that line from time to time.

What (this is for): This is an exercise in communication. Our lives are, in short, ridiculous. Full of unwitting adventures, observations of the unique or bizarre, and sometimes overwhelming. We figure it is our responsibility to share the outrageous aspects of our lives for your education, entertainment and amusement.

When (we'll be posting): For now we plan on posting whenever the universe deems it appropriate. If you would like a more regular posting schedule, you might want to weigh in on the poll to the right-hand side of the screen.

Why (the hell we're doing this): We get bored.

Where (we is): We live, love, and adventure in the Omaha Metro Area of Nebraska. Specifically, we live in Papillion, Nebraska, and have jobs in both Papillion and Omaha. We're midwesterners without a midwestern mentality.

That said, expect an introductory post from both Josh and Katrina in the near-future. Peace homies!