You know it's a good party when you come home drunk and injured.
2004-12-12 10:09 p.m.

Last night I co-hosted with three other people a last minute Christmas party. We were worried about not enough people showing up due to December being chaotic but we had a good turn out. Here's a picture of me with co-host C-Dog at the soire. You can see the new kicky do but not the red in the back. Here's another picture of the Oregon Bad Girl Brigade.

Somewhere during the night, before I got plastered, I managed to sprain my ankle by walking across the floor. Yep, just walking across the floor. My foot turned in, flipped over and there was the sound of snapping twigs as it bent in half. Right now it's still swollen and purple. I can walk on it if I go very slowly and don't twist it.

Oh yeah, plastered. I have two new rules. Number one: Kungfukitten is not allowed to attend a party unless she's eaten dinner. Number two: Kungfukitten is not allowed to drink vodka on an empty stomach. I am such a fricking moron.

This weekend was insanely busy. Wednesday, improv and drinks until 1:00am. Thursday, happy hour at Rock Bottom drinking 8.6 alcohol content beer. Friday, beers and bands. Saturday, hosted a Christmas party. Today I was supposed to go to a play in Hillsborogh but I couldn't figure out how to drive a stick shift with a sprained ankle and frankly I was utterly exhausted. I'm going to bed.

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Wet but intact.
2004-12-11 12:23 p.m.

I went out last night with a couple of friends to see some bands. The crowd was an odd mixture. Goths, goth wannabees, metal heads, rockers, freaks and a handful of old people in Northwest sportswear. Very interesting. The first band was Miss Anne Thrope who in my opinion, were the best band of the night. The lead singer was sexy, shirtless and had black tribal art painted all over his body. Tres chic. I swear to god the guitar player works for my company. I always mistook him for a sensitive quiet goth boy, not the heavy metal rock and roll guitar god that he was last night. Rock on.

Next on was Stabitha who I liked fairly well. I wish they had turned down the guitar and turned up the vocals. When I could hear the lyrics I liked the music more.

Lastly was Mistress of Reality which was an all female Black Sabbath tribute band - except for the male guitarist who was filling in. The lead singer was utterly creepy. She had the scary ass satanic Ozzy facial expressions down. She got a little pissy at how mellow the crowd was. I stayed in the back of the bar until the last band so I was front and center when she decided to throw her waterbottle on the crowd. Most of it landed directly on top of my head. Nice aim. Then she took a couple of mouthfuls of water and spit it on us. (I kind of feel like we're dating now.) Really, it wasn't that bad. I half expected to get my feet stomped on and elbowed in the head, so if getting sprayed with water is the worse thing that happened to me last night, I consider myself lucky.

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"Flashback to the lawnmower accident."
2004-12-09 9:49 a.m.

I went back to improv after a short hiatus. Basically I disappeared after my first show for a couple of months. My back was freaking out, I was busy with friends, I wrote a novel and I just needed some time to watch the rain and be a little maudlin.

We had a good time and a group of talented brand spanking new players. We practiced playing flashback which was incredibly fun. Whenever someone makes a reference to something happening in the past the referee screams out "flash back to xxx" and we do a scene based upon a flashback. It starts getting out of control when you have flashbacks within flashbacks within flashbacks. Freaking hysterical.

Then I made the mistake of going out for beers with the bad kids. We hit the Blue Moon on trendy-first and drank microbrews while playing such juvenile games as Truth or Dare, I Never and Has Anyone Ever. We didn�t play them as drinking games as we needed to get home in one piece. Instead we counted off on our fingers. I was relieved to find that I wasn�t the most hedonistic of the group (close second though � thumbs up!). Got home after 1:00am. ~sips uber caffeinated coffee~

The best part about December in Portland is the seasonal microbrews. I�ve gotten in six pints of Kris Kringle this year to make up for missing it last year. I�ve also had some Jubel Ale and Ebeneiser. Yet to be consumed is Dopplebock, Celebration Ale and Snow Cap. Am I forgetting any? I�m totally running out of time.

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A++
2004-12-08 10:27 a.m.

When I was seventeen I was in Mr. Mac�s creative writing class. Our final project was to write a short story. Something around four, maybe five pages. I wrote a novella that was about 30 pages long called The Secret of the Silver Dragon. It was about a girl who stumbles across a shar-pei smuggling ring in Seattle�s China town and exposes them, thusly saving the day. I even drew a cover for it of a shar-pei in front of a red pagoda. I used a copy of the Christmas Neimen-Marcus catalog for reference (the his and her gift that year was matching shar-pei puppies). Mr. Mac was completely blown away and gave me an A++.

Next year he made an advanced creative writing course. I was the only person in it. I spent that hour wandering the high school. Sometimes I�d in the library, more often I�d visit my friend Michelle and her boyfriend in study hall. No one bothered me because I had a hall pass from Mr. Mac that gave me free reign over the entire campus. That year I turned in a 100 page novella called Yugoslavia about a girl who chases a parrot out of the country to retrive microfilm containing her grandmother�s will. Along the way she meets a cute boy with a flashy cockney accent and a grifter she eventually falls in love with. Again, Mr. Mac knew I was working on something "big" but had no idea of what I was up to. I got another A++.

My father has overly fond memories of The Secret of the Silver Dragon. He remembers when we�d all go out to dinner and try to work out plot kinks when I wrote myself into corners. So for Christmas I�ve decided to publish The Secret of the Silver Dragon and give it to him for a gift. While editing the manuscript I came across some funny things. I was absolutely obsessed with people�s eyes. I still am. It permeates all my writing. The other hysterical thing is that 2/3 of the way through the book I suddenly switch from first person to third person as the storyline follows her older brother around. It�s a little jarring but sort of works. I edited the book only to fix the punctuation and spelling. The story is pretty much how it was written eighteen years ago. Check it out and no, I don�t expect you to buy it, are you insane? I�ll be adding more Kungfukitten juvenilia as I get it put into Word. There�s now a link on the left for Kungfu Publishing which will go to Caf� Press until I get my other website up and running. Fun fun fun.

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Dude, I am like so sorry.
2004-12-07 2:31 p.m.

Yesterday I was having a sneezing fit as I was walking to the copy machine. I sneezed once loudly and rounded the corner only to run right into my friend Julie and sneeze directly in her face. How do you appropriately apologize to someone for covering them in your highly contagious snot?

Today I was walking around the same corer (other direction) and ran directly into our consulting physician, scaring him so badly that he spilled half his coffee down his shirt. I cleaned him up with paper towels in my cube but still feel really bad. That corner of our floor is cursed. Or maybe it�s just me.

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Possibly Nepal, I don't know yet.
2004-12-07 9:18 a.m.

Nothing puts a spring into a girl�s step like a kicky new do. It�s almost as good as losing five pounds. I chopped my hair off above the shoulders and dyed the underneath a bright cherry red. I wanted to do a Hello Kitty bright pink but was chastised cajoled gently told that it may not be professional enough. Still. Hey. Bright red. Add some leather boots and you have me into coffee shop this morning waiting in line for my grande shot in the dark. Over in the midst of a gaggle of business men is one guy staring at me. Whenever I look at him he looks away. When I look away he looks back. Then he executes the coup de grace by smiling and looking over his shoulder at me as he walks out the door with his friends � and runs into the doorframe. I feel so god damn powerful that I�m considering invading a small third world country today.

On a side note I�ve been helping two of my friends establish their Diaryland accounts by tweaking their HTML (sounds kinky doesn�t it?). So go visit them and leave them a note in their guestbook or comments. Angi is my best friend from high school who has just moved to Arizona to start a new interesting life where she can be tan all the time. Tracy is a vivacious single chick from Eugene with an exciting dating life. Go say hi.

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Dusty notebooks.
2004-12-06 9:53 p.m.

Ever since I was thirteen years old I have constantly carried around a notebook with me. I was suddenly inspired to go down academic memory lane tonight and dug out all my old notebooks as they were mixed in with all my old school work. The scariest thing about all the notebooks is that I'm still the same stupid girl with romantic notions about love and happily ever after. The nice part is that I'm no longer an absolute drama queen when it comes to men. If they call, they call. If they're interested, they're interested. I don't spend all my time obsessing over it. I guess that's a step in the right direction. The funniest part of the notebooks is the names I have given them. Here are a few.

* Evil Thoughts and Condemnations Inc. 1987
* Feminist Theory on Vampire Poetry 1988
* Ah-Ha! or the illustrious scribblings of an obsessed woman on the edge. 1989
* Shaved Squirrels and Other Deep Ideas 1989
* Something New is Bound to Happen 1990
* The Decline of Western Civilization - "Sorry all my fault" 1991
* Breathe Deep, Seek Peace 1992
* Oh Well Whatever Nevermind 1993

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NC-17. I warned you.
2004-12-06 10:03 a.m.

I did some cleaning up last week and am making my NaNoWriMo Novel available for public viewing. The link should take you to a yahoo briefcase that is open to the public. I�ll close it down in a week and start working on the rewrite with my writing group.

A few disclaimers. This novel is Rated NC-17 for sex violence and full frontal werewolf nudity. This is a little different than my last novel as there's lots of explicit hanky panky. If you�re underage, going to be freaked out by werewolves, blood or occult references then for cripes sake, don�t read it. Go here instead.

Imagine if you will, Jane Austen and Lord Byron going on laudanum bender, having lots of sex and then collaborating on a Law and Order episode. That�s basically my novel. Also keep in mind that this was written in a month and is therefore a first draft and a bit messy. I also use the following words way to much: rush, gasp and moan and I make too many eye references. If you just want to read the sex scenes they are on pages 48, 92 and 123.

With the risk of sounding like Bucky, here is Blood For Persephone. Drop me a line if you read it.

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