odds and ends: THE WEDDING

Hello world. It’s 2 a.m. and I am still awake because I swore to myself I wouldn’t go to sleep tonight until I had transcribed every last minute of my many interviews over the past week or two. And that takes a long ass time, y’all. And my fingers are cramped and I’m hyped up on 5-hour energy yet awkwardly tired in the way that only finals week can do to a body.

What I’m saying is, this might be the most cracktastic post I’ve ever done.

It’s odd and ends again time, friendys, and this time it’s all about the most important wedding ever. No, not my wedding. It’s THE ROYAL WEDDING, which is the most important wedding in anyone and everyone’s lives, if you listen to the media lately.

It seems like most of the people that are vocal about THE WEDDING are either super intensely excited (“OMGGGGGG Ican’twaitI’mwakingupat4a.m.justtoseewhatshe’swearingandherperfecthair IloveKateMiddletonholyshit Kate+Wills4ever&EVERRRRRRRRRR”) or super intensely bitter/disdainful (“I am SO over the royal wedding, just get married already, am I right? How could anybody care about something so superficial? Don’t you know there are so may other more IMPORTANT things going on in the world?!?”)

I, and I assume many of the silent masses, lie somewhere in between.

I am genuinely excited for the wedding – excuse me, THE WEDDING. I’ve followed the buzz, but not stalker-level closely. I am excited in the way that many females of my generation probably are, because this is a real life princess story. And it’s the first one that our generation has experienced. I hadn’t been born yet with Diana became a princess, but I remember when she was killed. The whole thing was so tragic, even to my young self. (On a sidenote, my fifth grade teacher looked just like Princess Diana. Exactly like her.)

And Kate and William’s relationship is so much more of a fairy-tale because a) They actually seem to be in love, and b) She’s an everyday girl! Well, except for being super rich and blessed with the best hair on the globe. She was born a “commoner” (and god FORBID the media ever let her forget it, she will be called a former commoner until the day she dies) but she is going to be a princess as of today.

So I was never planning to wake up at 4 a.m. to watch every single second (but since it looks like I may be pulling an all-nighter for finals week, I might check in), but I am excited to read/watch the coverage later to see what Kate wore and how good her shiny, shiny hair looked. And I’m even MORE excited to see all the incredible hats and fascinators the guests wore. I LOVE A GOOD HEADPIECE, Y’ALL. Especially if it's feathered.

sassmonster

Anyway, the most entertaining thing about THE WEDDING has been the runup to it, particularly the awesome/ridiculous swag and other hype centered around it.

I should have done this post last week so you would be able to go out and order all this vital paraphernalia to enjoy today… but I didn’t. Luckily, like Kate and William’s love, this stuff will be beautiful and useful FOREVER.

Like, for example, the Lifetime movie William & Kate. You could watch the extra-speedily written, cast, filmed and edited movie on your own, or you could read the Fug Girls review. It was truly cinematic… something (I mean, not that I watched it*).

And if you are watching the movie (or reading the review) on your laptop, why not snuggle under the William and Kate Royal Bed-ding? Wake up next to the future King, ladies!!

looking a little flat there, Kate

While watching the movie, you can work on your own Coat of Arms juuust in case you and Harry really are meant to be together. Apparently mere commoners must invent coats of arms when they marry princes.

If you finish the movie and immediately want to act it out again in your own home, consider creating your own Lego wedding or knitting the royals.

you'll use them again and again!

If you need something a little bigger, just snap up the $57 Princess Catherine doll.

oh honey, that fascinator needs more sass

Your lego/knit/doll reenactments will clearly gain you a ton of prestige and money, so why not spend a few of your new millions by bidding on a jellybean that looks like Kate Middleton? Or if you are hungrier than one lil jellybean, perhaps you’ll want to order a royal wedding-themed pizza?

nothing better than a mushroom veil

Which, obviously, you will serve on your William and Kate plateware set.

And since I'm sure your cat, like Penny, would hate to be left out, treat her to a special dinner of Royal Wedding Cat Food.

After eating, be sure to apply your William and Kate engagement photo nail decals so that when you practice your royal wave, your fingers are up to par. 

Of course, when your lover comes home to find you under your William & Kate covers, watching the William & Kate movie, eating William & Kate pizza and cat food, playing with your William & Kate Legos and dolls and flashing your William & Kate manicure, there’s only one thought that will go through his head: “I'm gonna tap that.”

Luckily, William and Kate can be with you even when you get intimate, in my personal favorite crazy swag item: Crown Jewels Condoms.

just perfect

Well, I’ll leave you crazy kids to it. I’m going to go put this on:

source

And get back to work.




UPDATE: So Time just tweeted about this. Holy shit, y'all. I love the English.

* I totally did. The second half at least.**
** I would have watched the whole thing if I had realized earlier it was on. ***
*** It was really bad. Like… Really. Bad.

All photos belong to the sites linked to. 

our song, option 2

So Russell has some competition. As beautiful and touching his lyrics are, this song by Natasha Bedingfield also has a special place in our hearts and our past. It crept onto the music scene the summer Brian and I started dating. The song seemed to go unnoticed by pretty much everyone, except someone in our friendy group found it and then we pretty much listened to it nonstop for three months.

So imagine it now: we've just been announced as Mr. and Mrs., we sweep onto the dance floor, surrounded by all our loved ones and we dance to this:

Me, the brand

I spent a significant portion of the weekend and almost all of today working on building a website and professional portfolio. It is the final project for my Multimedia Journalism class, and it's one of the most useful assignments ever. I need these things for future job applications and to get my name out there anyway, but having it be an assignment gives me a deadline and the motivation to make it really good. It will be published in about a week and then you can find it at www.kathleenmmorrison.com* (hire me!).

Next step after the website? My own cereal. 

Anyway, it's weird to write about myself so much in such a clinical, professional way. It's worse than a resume (which I have also re-done in the past week, in addition to LinkedIn). And it's been weird trying to figure out what is important to include, especially when it comes to linking to my other online ventures. I wrote some months ago about how new age journalists have to have a significant online and social media presence, which is great, except it also needs to be "clean" and professional, which is not.

I've back and forth for a long time about what to do about my Twitter and Facebook accounts, as well as this blog. I still am not totally sure what to do. A classmate of mine solved the problem by making a "fan" page of himself – you know, the ones you 'like' instead of 'friend.' I don't think I'm quite at that level yet, especially when I only have four online clips to my name.

The thing is, I actually have something to show that I can produce a lot of content on a fairly regular basis -  including text, photos (many of them spruced up or changed entirely via Photoshop), links, opinions, dialogue, a custom layout and more.  It's right here. This blog.

Unfortunately, I don't know if my accounts of Penny's adventures or my inner feelings or the latest ridiculous thing on the internet is really up to par to put on my fancy schmancy, gonna-show-it-to-potential-employers website.

Which makes me sad because I like this blog. I like a lot of things I've written on it. And even the posts I think could have turned out better are an opportunity to figure things out about my writing. Which, as I keep having to remind myself, is why I started this thing in the first place.

So even though my Facebook and personal Twitter are going to stay private, I'm keeping this blog public. I like having my thoughts out there to be read. I like seeing what paths strangers take to stumble upon one post or another (a lot of people have been finding me lately by googling various things about Maine Coons – although one person searched for "Men Coon" which is pretty hilarious to imagine as a real thing). This is the writing I look forward to after the hard, intense struggle to find the right words for a professional feature or profile or news bit. If potential employers happen to find it and are offended, well, I probably don't want to work with someone that uptight anyway, right?

And for anyone keeping track, after my website goes live, my online presence will include:
a) Facebook
b) two Twitter accounts - my personal one and a newer, professional one
c) this blog
d) LinkedIn
e) a professional website
f) a professional portfolio - basically articles, etc. that I've written, compiled in a blog
g) YouTube
...plus, of course, all those random non-social media accounts like eBay and Beluga and StumbleUpon and various online shopping venues.

Jesus, that's a lot of me out there.

* Deciding on that domain name is actually the first time I've really struggled with the whole changing-your-name bit of marriage, but that's a story for another post.

the Brileen nuptials?

Planning and thinking about our wedding is a wonderful, fun experience... except for one woefully disappointing thing.

Brian and I don't have a good mashup name. 

I can't remember if it started with Bennifer or Brangelina, but either way mashup names have become the new cool way to refer to couples, especially when they are about to tie the knot. 

My best friend getting married this summer has an awesome mashup name made from her and her fiance's last names (Tait + Kellogg = Taitllog), and an even better one if you use her high school nickname (Weiner + Kellogg = Weinllog). 

Jealous. 

Our names, Brian and Kathleen, don't mix in a particularly fun or hilarious way. Neither do Mitchell and Morrison. 

Mitchellson? That just sounds like a different last name. 

Brileen? That sounds like a name some horrible parents would give their kid because they are trying to "brand" her in a unique way. 

Kathian? That's... dumb.

What do I do?!? This is serious, y'all. How will anyone know what to refer to our nuptials as?!?

WTF, world - Airport Security is Not Rape

The other day I read an op-ed piece by a woman in Alaska absolutely railing against airport security. She described her experience with TSA as being "gate-raped." She said she sobbed as a security woman felt her stomach and under her bra band, calling it sexual assault. She compared the new full-body scanners ("Nudie Scanners," she said) to legalized porn.

The first time I read the article, I was taken aback by the (absurd, I immediately thought) claims she was making. Then I read it a second time and thought some more... I don't want to say that I think this woman is ridiculous, because she also wrote that earlier in her life she was a victim of rape and I believe that is one of the most harrowing, horrible offenses a person can go through. I fully realize I have no clue what damage her rapist did to her psyche. Rape terrifies me. It is probably my biggest fear, and I know so many women who would say the same thing.

Which is why I don't get it. I don’t understand why this woman would undermine her shattering experience by equating it to airport security procedures. Airport security procedures are not rape.

I did some digging because I’ve heard all the rumors about the new full-body scanners, but I didn’t actually know what image the operator sees when you go into one. By “digging,” of course, I mean I googled it. And actually, the images are more graphic than I thought – or at least some of them are. They range from pretty detailed (with nipples, buttcracks and genitals fairly clearly outlined) to very fuzzy/abstract with really no private parts visible. It seemed like generally though, the faces were all fuzzy; I don’t think the scanner really goes over the face. So it’s hard to know what those machines are actually capturing.

The last time I flew, I was told to go through one. I went in, raised my arms, waited a minute and then stepped out when I got a nod from the uniformed woman supervising. I honestly didn’t feel violated in any way. A much bigger deal – and not even really a big deal then – was the time I got stopped because two rings in my purse (they were double-finger rings lying next to each other) apparently looked like brass knuckles when they were scanned.

But okay, I can understand someone not wanting to feel like an unknown person in another part of the airport can see his or her body outlined. That’s fine.

No, what angers me is the extreme vernacular of the extended rape metaphor and the sense of appall/entitlement the author seems to feel. As if the security guards had no right to subject her to... the same security measures that pretty much everyone goes through. Measures that are designed to keep us safe, no less.

I can’t tell if the author exaggerated, either in her own memories or in her writing, the treatment she got. To me, the officers seem like they are just doing their job. They took her to another room out of the main security area when she got hysterical and they told her exactly what they were doing ("I'm going to touch your stomach now") rather than just patting her down, willy-nilly. Yet she uses the word “molested” in reference to what they did. Huh?

When Brian and some friends flew from back to the U.S. from the Middle East after spending five weeks volunteering there one summer, the Israeli airport security didn’t just scan their bags, they opened every single one and looked through the items in it. The patting-down process was much more intense than anything in American airports. It took them two full hours to get through security.

Intense? Sure. But the Israeli national airline has never had a plane hijacked.

I also looked into the author’s other articles on the Anchorage Daily News’ website. I didn't want to stereotype this Alaskan woman, just because another Alaskan woman with a penchant for extreme language has been popping up everywhere for the past three years. But then I found another article written by her that began with the words: "I miss Sarah Palin. Not the post-nomination, self-serving, political opportunist who has become an embarrassment to many Alaskans. Rather, I miss the governor who had 85 percent approval ratings. I miss the 'Wally Hickel' glint in the eye of a governor who stood in the sanctity of 'Owner-State.'”* So okay, she is clearly Republican and, although she at least has the sense to see what Palin has become in the media-soaked last few years, she still expresses an affinity for her ideals.

Bleh.

The most ridiculous part was that the author wrapped her tirade up with, “It's been almost 10 years since 9/11. I was 'gate raped' by my government, and Osama Bin Laden is still at large.”

What?! Bin Laden organized the most successful terrorist attack VIA PLANE in American history. TSA is intense because Bin Laden killed thousands VIA PLANE. As in what you are about to board, that kind of plane. If these scanners – “nudie” or not – keep a terrorist off the next plane I or my loved ones board, then I will gladly be scanned or patted down or have my bag searched for brass knuckles.


* The rest of the article was behind a paywall and I definitely wasn’t about to fork over money to read it, so I don’t know what sentiments were expressed past the opening paragraph.

Happy 100! And also 23!

My blog is 100 posts old today! And I am 23! (Years, not posts). Both of these things are very exciting. And I didn't plan it this way. I actually tried to blog several times this week but had intense writer's block (see yesterday's post).

Anyway, twenty-three is one of my lucky numbers, so I feel like this upcoming year is going to be awesome. In honor of these momentous occasions, I present: A Very Special (and Awkward) Birthday Retrospective.

1st birthday: The year I didn't understand how cupcakes worked and I tried to eat the paper lining. 

3rd birthday: I'm pretty sure this is where I peaked in cuteness. It was all downhill after this. Also, that is one sweet windsuit. 

4th birthday: The beginning of a life of not knowing what to do with my hands.

5th birthday: Blowing candles is intense work, y'all. (Please keep the jokes I know are forming to yourself and remember this is a five year old here!)

6th birthday: The good thing about this picture is, had I been arrested at age 6, I would have already had a mug shot ready to go. 

11th birthday: Cat cake. Princess Leia hair.

12th birthday: This is the one picture I seriously debated putting up. Twelve was clearly the fugliest year of my existence. Y'all please hurry on to the next one. 

16th birthday: This is my "Okay, I'm posing with my cupcake. Happy now, Mom?" face 

18th birthday: My "surprise" (the girl in charge of keeping me busy and getting me there was really bad at hiding the secret) party in a randomly empty house. Ahh high school.

19th birthday: Kyle (wearing the sailor hat) handed me that wet floor sign and told me it was my birthday present. The other picture is just for Walt's singing face. 

21st birthday: "I'm 21 now so I'm going to take a picture with all this alcohol paraphernalia!!" (Don't worry, those cups are courtesy of the whole table, not just me. I didn't die that night.)

22nd birthday: My birthday fell during the post-comprehensive exams, pre-graduation period of senior year, which was one of the best times of college. Hence the good hair day. 

EDIT: 

I wish I had videoed Brian reading this so I could share his reaction. Basically he just laughed harder and harder with each one until the 12 year old picture, where he died laughing and took the time to point out each terrible part, particularly "What is that hair?!!?" 

He also wanted me to add this:

And he inquired why my mother chose to "take one of those things [doilies] that people put on side tables under lamps and cut a hole in in and put it over your head." A question, indeed. 

blog blockage

I don't know what to blog about. And I hate when I don't know what to blog about.

I could write about the five to-do lists I made yesterday, with items to be completed before the first week of May aka the last week of class. One each for home, school, work, wedding and (ha, as if I might possibly have a minute of truly free time) art. But I fully realize no one cares about my neurotic listmaking.

I could write about the latest great thing Penny did. But I'm already way too close to the verge of becoming a crazy cat blogger.

I could write about how I've started setting my alarms like THIS in order to get out of my comfy, comfy bed in the mornings...

But there's really nothing more to say about that.

I could tell you my recent assignments. But that's just depressing.

I could talk about how it's been raining way too much lately, or taxes, or... But that's even more depressing.

So I'm just going to throw up my best selection of iphone pictures and call it a post. Deal? Deal.

rainbow city

sushi clock and sushi cat, NOLA

I want to live on this street.

Tait, this is my favorite of your faces.

This dog was my BFF one day at Millsaps.

ancient nautilus, Museum of Natural Science, NYC

helpful posters at a gym in Montreal, Canada
(ohhh so THAT's what I'm supposed to look like!)

I had to cash this check... in person. Thanks Mollz.

my dad and a moose, New Hampshire

Only $1.99?! WHAT A STEAL!!

awesome pendulum clock, Museum of Science, Boston

sea dragon – my favorite sea creature, New England Aquarium

someone get me this dog