Introducing Kathy

A few years ago I acquired the nickname Kathy for my slightly sassier alter-ego that appears after half a glass of wine.  I am a hyper-observant twenty-three year old with ADD-esque thought patterns.

A mere billion years late, I am finally joining the blogosphere.

Honestly, I’m a bit self conscious about blogging and whether people will read this and think what I often think when I stumble upon a new blog:

• This person is a complete narcissist. Why do they think anyone cares about the trauma of their recent breakup?
• This is not well-written. This is not funny. This is a sad attempt at online entertainment.
• Again, who cares?

Despite my reservations, I clearly have enough narcissism stowed away somewhere to think that the rest of the online world would be better off if they had the opportunity to hear my ramblings on a daily basis.

I graduated from Rutgers University in 2007 after reading thousands of pages of English and Spanish literature and eating hundreds of dollars worth of cinnamon oreo ice cream.

I worked in Manhattan for a year doing healthcare PR. I commuted four hours a day to get there from central New Jersey. This can be referred to as "the lost year." I was miserable, quit, went to Spain, came home and spent a lot of time by the pool.

I am now trying to figure out what to do with my life. I am beginning to concoct increasingly bogus plans since I have eliminated virtually all full-time job options as horrible breeding grounds of boredom and torture. Whatever I decide to do, I would like to make obscene amounts of money that would allow me to live in a beautiful exposed-brick-laden penthouse somewhere in the Village in NYC. Suggestions are welcome, as long as you are willing to support my delusions.

Food consumes approximately 88% of my thoughts every day, including what I have eaten, what I am currently eating, and what I plan on eating next. If I am working in any kind of office, I have a designated snack drawer. On trips or any kind of extended travel, I bring a feedbag. I have the constant, fickle cravings of a pregnant woman. I think it’s a sin to skip breakfast. I want to love to cook, but really all I want to do is eat what someone else has already prepared for me.

The other 12% cannot even be categorized because it is a massive jumble of hyperactive, obsessive, random thoughts. Because I've started a blog, you are now privy to a small portion of this jumble. Lucky you.
I tend to peoplewatch more often and more intensely than the average person. I intend to share my thoughts on that quite often.

I am very politically incorrect. Prepare yourself. I seem to have gotten considerably less tolerant of the human race over the past five years. I also harbor a considerable degree of road rage.

I wish that the U.S. would ban SUVs and skyscrapers. We should also institute the whole European plazas-everywhere thing. And tapas.

I have trouble telling stories in a linear fashion. I’m warning you now.

I enjoy: the best time of day, wine so sweet it tastes like juice, oatmeal with chocolate chips, tapas, autumn, bread, bookstores, plazas, driving with the windows down and AC on, RU, Audrey Hepburn movies, ballet, "yikes," virtually every dress ever made by BCBG, la lengua española, Old Spice deodorant, yellow gold, roundabout stories, the beach (particularly at the BTOD) , recently vacuumed rooms, New Jersey

I have issues with: mayonnaise, people who like to hear themselves talk, heavy breathers, most dogs (and people who thinks their dogs are people), sniffling, remaining sedentary, loud public nose-blowing, long commutes, overtime