Taxed-Off Today

As the ol' saying goes: 

There are 2 things certain in life...

death and taxes.

I might add... 

this deathly blog on taxes.

I hope you don’t find this blog too taxing to read.

I tried to keep it to the short form.

If it is… sorry. 

$0.00 refund due you.  

You are, however, allowed 1 personal exemption per blog.

And any deductions taken without Kat authorization 

are done so 

Under Penalty of Law.

Paying taxes are a real mondo drag…

no one digs giving up their bread to The Man. 

Catch my drift?

(Not sure why tax day brings out my inner 70’s self.)

It is impossible to avoid, 

escape or 

shake 

the IRS, 

without risking

life, 

limb, 

and liberty

so you gotta 

pay up, to shut them up

or 

you’ll be down the creek without a shit or a paddle.

I think it's about time Uncle Sam 

stopped pointing fingers and 

got a job of his own.

Anywhoooo…….

I thought I would pass on this little nugget of tax history.

Apparently in the 11th Century

Lady Godiva had her own issues with taxation.

Lady Godiva was deeply upset 

(taxed off)

with her husband Leofric, Lord of Coventry 

over the oppressive taxes he had levied on the citizens.

He told his wife 

“You will have to ride naked through Coventry before I change my ways.”

And she did just that. 

She stripped off her clothes and 

rode her horse naked through the marketplace 

wearing nothing 

but her long flowing hair to cover herself.

It was a noble and unselfish act.

(And to think…I thought she was just an exhibitionist.) 

Her husband stayed true to his word and reduced taxes.

Before Lady Godiva rode into town 

she commanded the townspeople to stay inside and not peek …

at her nakedness…

as she rode by.

They all obliged.

 except for Tom…

good ole Tom took a peep.

So as you file your taxes...  

think of

Lady Godiva

and 

Peeping Tom 

aka Uncle Sam…

...And ask yourself,

would you ride butt naked through town to lower your taxes?

Hell yes I would.

I just need to find some hair extensions.

Parallel Parking Virtuoso

When it comes to having skills…

some folks have 

mad, 

rad,

 and Olympiad skills 

doing incredible things.

Some have skills

flying planes, painting landscapes, and walking like a ninja 

which is quite impressive.  

I ,on the other hand, (and foot) 

have tad skills…

unless of course you are talking 

Parallel Parking.

Then, my friends…

I go to the head of the class and leave you all behind 

in the back  

with the chuckle head kids who aren't paying attention.

I’ve always prided myself on the ability to parallel park.

I could very well be a 

Parallel Parking Virtuoso.

Okay, I had to dig deep to find my mad skill 

(need a shovel ova here) 

but when it comes to parking a 4 wheel vehicle in a tight ass spot…

I’m your girl.

If parallel parking was a competitive sport at the Olympics…

I believe I would be a major contender. 

Move over Michael Phelps…

this Kat could out gold you 

and make a splash on the cover of Parallel Parking Divas Magazine.

I learned and honed my parallel parking craft 

when I was newly out of college and working at Bridgeport Hospital in CT.  

My talent was mainly out of necessity.  

Necessity is the mother of 

invention, 

inspiration, 

innovation and 

pauperism.

The monthly charge for parking in the lot across from the hospital…

didn't fit my soup and beans budget.  

So I had to park on the city streets surrounding the hospital.  

So every day around 6 am B. C. (Before Coffee)

 I had to squeeze my blue Datsun B210 into the tightest spots imaginable.   

I admit…

from time to time I get really cocky 

and I like to boast about my skills to PaulA. 

I particularly like challenging PaulA to a parallel park off. 

(throwdown...this Saturday...you and me ....downtown Nashville.)

Whenever he passes on a parallel parking spot... 

I can't help heckling him.

is that bad?

Anywhooooooo…..

The other day, 

back from a Target run, 

I used my mad skills and 

pulled the car into a tiiiight spot between two cars.  

In one attempt.

The Parallel Parking Virtuoso strikes again.

All cool until

 I had to move from the spot.

Apparently I was a liiittttttle close to the mailbox.

If "closest to the mailbox" was an event...

I would have won.  For sure.

There was no way I could get the car out 

without scratching it against the mailbox.

What's a Kat to do?

Put my tail between my legs and 

ask PaulA to use his skills 

to get me out of that jam of a pickle.

Currently I'm done bragging about my 

parallel parking virtuosity.

Now I'm on to 

showing-off my other mad skill...

mad skill or just mad?

2 finger whistling.

Stay tuned...

it's quite impressive.

Happy Birthday Colin

Happy Birthday to Colin

born on the most romantic day of the year...

a day of 
cupid, cards, candy,
dinners, diamonds, dates,

roses, romance and don't forget
RESERVATIONS.

Colintine’s Day

Colin was due to enter this world on February 13th 

but just missed that day.

At 5:30 am on 2/14/888 he arrived…

Oops there he is.

Enter Colin 
stage right…..

right smack dab in the middle of my heart.  

Colin had me at waahhh, waahhh. 

With a birthday on Valentine's Day, 

we could have named Colin

Valentino or Valentine, 

but we spared him a lifetime of tee hees and guffaws

plus his name was just as heartfelt.

 We had recently seen the movie "Oxford Blues" with Robe Lowe and 

a character in it (not Rob Lowe)…

was named Colin.  

I loved “Colin” 

the moment I heard the name

and I loved Colin 

the moment I saw his face.

Anywhooooo……

Looking at that sweet boy’s face…

I used to think about his future.

Que sera sera

Whatever will be, will be
the future's not ours to see...

My little guy growing up, 

so fun, funny, happy, energetic and loving...

will he be...

a body builder

a ship's Captain

a comedian ala Steve Martin style

Speaker of the House

an entrepreneur

a Suburban Cowboy

a musician (with bass face)

Fast Forward...

All these years later he grew into
what matters most....

what's in his heart...
and

the best son, 

grandson, brother, nephew, uncle, friend 
and now 

fiance (yay)

you could ever hope for.  

Today is about celebrating Colin.

Valentine’s Day may be along for the ride…
riding shotgun…

but I am banishing Valentine's Day 
to the backseat.

Happy Birthday Colin

Happy Birthday 33 Chelsea

Today is a record day...

Chelsea's 33rd birthday.

Growing up my most favorite 33 was 
Tapestry by Carole King
and
one of PaulA's favorite 33s was

Van Morrison’s Tupelo Honey…
which he picked to dance to with Chelsea at her wedding...
but today....

Chelsea is, by far,

 our most fav 33.

I'm pretty sure Chelsea will be spinning 

like the 33 

she is.

Anywhoooo…..

Along with Chelsea turning 33 today...
there happens to be another record spinning event 

a cosmic lunar event...
and not your run-of-the mill lunar eclipse but

a Super Blood Wolf Moon
in Chelsea's honor...

the fullest moon with a 
Bama Crimson Red hue. Roll Tide.

If you were awake during the early hours this morning,

 and 

the night sky was clear of clouds... 

you may have seen the Super Blood Wolf Moon.  

I’m guessing Chelsea didn't see it....she was probably

sleeping like a baby 

Ansley.  

You need to be well-rested 

when you are a mama of a 15-month old 
trying to get errands done.

There’s a lot of science behind how this lunar eclipse 

can affect our behavior, 

but I’m thinking we are all eating 

a little more cheese today.
(one of Chelsea's favorite food groups.)

Chelsea still rocks her birthdays

although this year it might be more like 

a rocking chair in Ansley’s room 

reading Ansley

Goodnight super blood woof Moon.

Happy Birthday Chelsea.

We love you to the Super Blood Wolf Moon and Back.

You will forever be my sweet Chelsea-belsy girl in my heart of hearts

first born
first guinea pig hehe
love at first sight

and

Dad’s Tupelo Honey...

which we will be playing on repeat.

"Alexa…
play Tupelo Honey by Van Morrison for Chelsea."

And as Ansley says:

"Cheers."

Happy Birthday Chelsea.
You are so loved on this record day
and every day.

I'm the reason Alabama lost the Championship Game

I have to admit...

I am the reason 

we lost the Championship game against Clemson.

It had nothing at all

to do with players

or Coach Saban

or the defense

or the interceptions

or the kicker.

It was this Kat

and I take full responsibility for my actions.

Most people wouldn’t admit they are at fault, 

but in order to live with myself, 

I must confess and apologize…

Sorry Saban

Sorry Tua

Sorry Defense

Sorry Offense

Sorry kicker.

Who you calling sorry? 

Anywhooo….

I’m coming clean…

and admitting 

I didn’t stick to my BAMA routine 

and do the expected.

I failed to wear my usual lucky BAMA clothes 

and watch the game on our lucky couch in Nashville.

Instead PaulA and I were in Palm Springs for the game 

and I wore a crimson shirt, houndstooth belt, and white pants.  

White Jeans, Kat what were you thinking?  

There I was caring more about how I looked than the success of my team.  

I should have been wearing my 

usual sweatshirt 

the one that proudly screams Alabama, 

blue jeans, and cap.

Instead,

there I was sitting at a bar watching the game 

when I should’ve been on my couch at home

yelling at the tv...

giving PaulA high fives on first downs and 

when things weren't going well for the team...

moving to different parts of the couch, 

crossing and uncrossing my legs, 

changing my hair from up to down, 

and crossing my fingers.

I was a lame fan.

I wasn't there for the team when they needed me....

...like these fans...

So it’s all out there now…

the reason we lost the championship to Clemson.

My guilty admission 

was a lot to get off my chest, 

but good therapy.

I am finally beginning to let the loss go.

I promise that

If we end up in the championship game next year, 

I will be the fan 

BAMA is expecting me to be

and give it my all.

My Bad, Alabama.

This one is on me.

Roll Tide