Katie Schwartz

I broke up with J Crew, but we got back together. I’ve noticed that a lot of Born Agains are starting to follow me on Twitter . To be clear, I don’t mean Christians or Catholics, I mean Zealarellas (zealots). I’m wondering… What part of me screams save me ? Wanna read more ? Of course you do! Kidding. If you do, fab. If not, I understand. No pressure, no guilt. I'm a freak.

As we've discussed a blog is one part confessional, right? Right. Today, I was reminded of the ultimate shamevent, I was with my ma and we were at the Farmer's Market buying produce, minding our own business when I happened upon my ex . He didn't see me -- I saw him -- which was MORE than enough to make me run -- like a virgin towards the starting quarterback. I flew through the market. My ma, is, of course, fast on her feet and didn't need me to explain anything, she just followed. PS: That's love. So terrified he would see me, I made my way into the back of the market and dove into a dumpster. Yes, I know that's disgusting. Whatevs, a girl does what a girl has to do. A few minutes later, I could hear my mother laughing her ass off while leaning against the dumpster, so I peeked my head out of the top. Through tears, she said to me, "What the fuck is wrong with you, child?" I whispered, "I saw my ex, he was buying avocados. Remember he used to ca...

This week had a theme, a pretty straightforward one too: "Katie, Wilma Fingerdo", laced with syphilis, oozing herpes sores, attached to a gnome wearing a trollee-esq mask when you least expect it, EVERY FUCKING DAY?! I met with optadaddy on Monday to discuss my lady balls. While I appreciate his enthusiasm for Graves' ophthalmology because really, if a doctor has a raging hard on for something that's ailing you, s/he's the DR you want. Right? Right. I'm in the chair. Between us is the peeper machine that scopes your balls. While he's fondling mine with said machine, he's going on and on and on about his latest study with rabbits and rats and their peepers popping. Again, I appreciate his enthusiasm, but do I really need the deets? I said, "My sister had a rabbit named Clovis", thinking this would ignite the, oh-I've-said-too-much-gene, and make him stop. On the contrary, he didn't. After the fondlefest, I said, "Ya know, DRB, I r...

The dish, rapid fire... Shall we bullet point this baby or what? Okay, here we go. My youngest brother, Nick is a social media God. He Twittered with Mc Hammer from 33,000 feet . Isn't he a honey?! In honor of Ada Lovelace Day , one of my Twitter dishing buddies, BitDepth , has written a lovely post about women in New Media and he GENEROUSLY included me. To be in the company of the women he wrote about is quite an honor. If you haven't read his blog , check it out. He is a photographer and a filmmaker. His work is rich and luscious, like his personality. Tuesday was suuuuhhhhrrrrrrreal. Wednesday I had to re-pee in a bucket, but failed miserably. The whole thing was entirely too nauseating. Let's just say I jeopardized the specimen. Thursday morning I had a date with Urarella (Nephroqueen). He's so dramatic, my God. Only 8 viles of blood on the wall, 8 viles of blood, if one should happen to fall... Anyway, he want ed me to have an MRI. However, as of Friday, I have ...

This song bugs the mother fucking shit out of me for reasons I really don't know. It could be the nasally-stuck-in-his-throat harmony of Time Passages , though I'm not certain. How mizzy does the broad look in this picture? To me, she screams: "Dress, stuff and roast you're own fucking turkey." I agree with her completely. Living in 2009, I have the privilege and luck of saying as much. I'm irritated with nephroqueen's new medication. I think it's giving me headaches and making me tired. I'd call him Monday, but I'm seeing him on Tuesday. Gee, I can't fucking wait. I'm so excited. My nicknames for my nephrologist are: Obviously, nephroqueen, nephroboy, nephrologyboy, nephroasspain, kidneyologist, urinequeen, urarella, blood-and-urine-sucking-vampire, and I think that's pretty much it. Got any new ones for me? I'm addicted to Twitter , much more so than Facebook, not sure how I feel about Facebook or if I really want to assign a...

This morning, my good friends at Echelon Magazine (if you haven't perused this read, click on over and check it out, it's wonderful. PS: Their weekly newsletter kicks ass. You can also follow them on Twitter if you're Twittering, that is. @ Echelon_mag . Back to my yarn... When I clicked on the link Michael sent me and saw this headline Soy is making kids 'gay' , I thought, no. No way is this schmuck that stupid. Turns out, he is! Though vintage, circa 2006, the original yarn was posted here . I've bolded my favorite parts. Soy is making kids 'gay' There's a slow poison out there that's severely damaging our children and threatening to tear apart our culture. The ironic part is, it's a "health food," one of our most popular. Now, I'm a health-food guy, a fanatic who seldom allows anything into his kitchen unless it's organic. I state my bias here just so you'll know I'm not anti-health food. (Good to know, I was wor...

WARNING: incoming non-sequiturs. Since Lou died, I have this habit of sleeping with everything on my bed. My laptop, in case I wake up with an idea. A small bottle of ginger ale, should I wake up neesh in the middle of the night for any reason. A bottle of 365 (Whore Foods H20, the only affordable product on their shelves), if I don't wake up neesh . A pill crusher, it's a just in case (I can't swallow pills). Tissues for the sneeze fest that commences the moment I arise, without fail. Whatever book(s) I'm reading, and my remote control... for the television. A heavy sweatshirt at the foot of my bed. And finally, my blackberry. What bed would be complete without a crackinberry? Even more strange, if I do wake up in the middle of the night, I wake up with the song "More than a woman" by the Bee-Gees, stuck in my head. Weird, right? It's been a surreal couple of weeks, hence my departure from blogging and such. I'm back now and in good spirits. My broth...

Well, my pretties, Bushcunt is almost out of office, just 48 ish hours to go. I cannot wait. When Obamalicious makes his inaugural speech, I'll be in tears. I'll be kvelling. I'll feel like hope and change are finally here. I'm not fucktarded, I know we're in for one hell of a ride. Bushcunt ran our country into the ground. Recovery will be at a snail's pace. Still. He'll be gone, long gone. Hopefully in time, he'll be tried for war crimes and crimes against humanity -- a girl can dream, can't she? Today is Sunday. I have so much to do, I could spit twice and die, or crawl into my bed and hide under the covers, or plow through the list. I think I'll plow through the list for a few hours. Why not? Generally speaking, I'm having a surreal weekend, not sure why. I just feel out of sorts. I emailed a Rabbi, that was fun. I'm retaining water for reasons I can't explain. It's not like I was suckin' salt cubes all night. I dished wi...

Today, I was humilareena and her friends, Shame, Oh The Shame, and You Shameful Snatch. Seriously. What happened today is so embarrassing I wasn't going to blog it until my sister said, "How can this shamevent be off limits when you so freely blog about menses." The girl has a point. I scheduled an appt with the cable man today because I needed him to switch out my boxes (that is not an innuendo, schmucks). My DVR was tiling and squeezing up when I'd change the channels. It also incessantly froze and garbled. Being a lazy bitch who doesn't really give a shit, I wasn't bothered.... for six-months. At 10 AM, cabletard enters the premises on time (shock of shocks). He's pleasant enough and clean-cut. Having had cable / Internet issues to the degree that I have had with AT&T, I wanted him to stay and make sure that my Internet connection didn't go down and that I knew how to work the new DVR box. Being a busy boy, he got a little snippy. I needed to sh...

I was having a conversation with a very dear friend today and one of the things we discussed, I'm paraphrasing, was the concept that everything happens for a reason and that there are no coincidences . I've always been conflicted about those two ideas. Often, I wonder, If I am in charge of my own destiny, why would I choose to derail myself with Graves' disease? Then I back flip and ask myself, If I'm not in charge of my destiny, why was this placed in my life? After yet another back flip, I ask, How can I control IT instead of IT controlling me? As you can see, I still haven't answered my own damn questions and remain conflicted. In my opinion, I don't believe we create illness. I don't think we ask for illness to overtake our bodies and shift the course of our lives. I don't think illness serves a greater good. Just as I don't think there's an upside to death. Losing someone you love is horrific, full stop. Admittedly, I am the worst at facing...

I'm so furious right now, I could scream. Before I do. Let me direct your attention to a beautiful new post on DearThyroid . Please click over and read this lovely dame's yarn and celebrate another cancer free anniversary (YAY). I'm so proud of her for sharing her story, I know it wasn't easy. One last thing, breathe. I feel so guilty venting and ranting when there are much bigger issues in the world, and with people I care about. I realize stating this doesn't absolve me of my guilt. I wanted to acknowledge how frivolous this rant is going to be. You know it and I know it. Still. It's something I need to get off my chest, which is already grand enough (DDD). There is someone in my life who urks me. No, that's a lie. He makes me crazy. No. That's not it either. He's more pleasant than a pap smear. Not as invasive as a colonoscopy. Definitely as irritating as an untreated yeast infection. I have to deal with him. There are some people in your life, yo...

What a grand blogging day today was, just like yesterday. I was introduced to 4 new bloggers who answered the PoliQs flawlessly. My Saturday Evening Post is brilliance and sarcasm at it's finest. Pushing Fifty Gently 's POV from Canada was awesome. I'd love to see more people in other countries participate in the PoliQ. I am so looking forward to getting to know her delicious bloggy blog. Thailand Girl addressed concerns about foreign affairs with a slew of quotables. Little Merry Sunshine dished up fierce facts and a fast talkin' (writing) personality. A blog of note that we all know and love is Bubbsie's , who tossed out so many pearls of wisdom, I'm still reeling. Bubbsie is the author of Sprawling Ramshackle Compound and my good friend, a truly amazing mensch with a heart, and family spun of gold, answered from the exquisitely personal, to the brilliantly objective. Lots of important facts and links. Callbacks to the past and what middle class Americans on...