The Cat Spot

Heard arguing in the street at 3am. Looked out the window. A couple walking with backpacks appeared sleep deprived, emotionally rought, and exuding western traveler ignorance, they were American. The man reminded me of a long haired squirly, boundry lacking yoga teacher I briefly dated back in the Chicago. The woman short, thick, and confused as to how the fuck they got there.  Went outside to be of some help to the American couple. Relief melted over their faces when realized a fellow American stood infront of them.  "Where are you guys trying to go?"-Me Both began speaking telling their version of the story, at the same time. Snippets of spending most of their cash on taxis taking them to the wrong places in attempts to get to a hostel is what I caught. The woman looked at the man as if she was going pull his hair out for being such an idiot, which he was.  "What's the name of the hostel?"-Me Again both began speaking at the same time. "It's a Tal or

Before leaving France for Lebanon I yet again completed another compression, only this time into one carry on.  Everything fit. It's all about how you pack. What's new and what I've learned thus far... 1. France is France 2. Something about Lebanone inspired me to purchase my frist pair of Converse ever. Life change. 3. Lebanese Women have the best hair  4. It's impossible to be bored in Beirut 5. Lebanese people are very friendly and social. After living in France I almost forgot what it felt like to have social life and friends 6. I took a lover for the first time after being overseas  7. If you need dental work done, get it done here. It costs about a 1/3 less than it does in the states. My friend got her wisdom teeth taken out here. Back in the states she was told they would have to break her wisdom teeth in order to get them out. This guy was so good he managed to take the teeth out whole. She didn't use anesthesia and sits with me now at the cafe I'm writi

After taking intensive french classes for two months I decided I was burnt out and wanted to do something else. I found a posting for an au pair position at the college and called the number. It was for a single british woman and her three children ages 3,7, and 9. This seemed a good opportunity to clear some karma with my nannys from childhood.  The house located in beautiful southern France just west of Cannes.  The mother, a former heroine addict, clean for 8 plus years, moved to Theoule to escape the past. The location of the home was removed from major public transit making it difficult to leave or travel anywhere without a car. The next month my life would no longer be my own. Taking care of other people's children is not easy. I caught a glimps of what my life may have been like had I choosen to have children, making me realize that I'm not ready and there is a lot I want to do before I if/ever have children.  I got a taste of what it must have been like for my nanny Mim

Upon returning to Cannes from a  charming, slightly haunted wedding in Saint George sur Cher, I found myself incredibly ill, depressed, and alone. I fell in the dark hole that one wonders if she will ever come out of. I woke up crying, went to bed crying, cried on the train, in the market, at school, basically anywhere. Looking back I can't believe how liberated I was to allow myself to express such raw emotion for the world to see, and didn't have the chance to think twice about it because the tears streamed without prevail. I wished I had died in the accident, kept thinking I made a huge mistake coming over here (yeah it was that bad). I had no friends, nothing, no one, nada. There isn't much to do in Cannes aside from going to the beach, going to the beach, and going to the beach. What Florida is to the United States, Cannes is to France. Lots of old people and lots of teens and springbreaker types just on a more international level. No one liked me at all. Some of the s

The first week I found Martine's put off demeanor towards my debutant (beginner) american self endearing and a point of encouragement to speak french. The only problem was that the more I went for it the more annoyed she got. She really didn't like me. When ever I said anything her face took an immediate stance of disgust and then would speak to me smugly in english. It got to a point where I just stopped talking. Meal times were really uncomfortable because she would sit across from me and just stare at me, then speak freely and friendly with Stefanie.  8/9/2013 - Breakfast Martine asked me a question in english. Before I could get more than four words out she cut me off and sternly said, "Your accent is very strong. It's a very strong American accent. Slow down. I don't understand you when you speak." Stefanie and I looked at each other as if she we couldn't believe she just said that. 1. My natural speech pattern is not fast and I take time to get words

After having my right hand and arm immobilized for over three months, it was scarry to see what came out of my cast. The upper part of my right, hand, and forarm had decided to grow more hair. This hair does not look like the rest of the hair on my body. It's dark, thick, course. It grew in places I never had hair before. My arm looked like a baby deer or a man hand. Something seems very off about the way fractures and breaks in bones are medically treated. I understand that the bone has to heal back, at the same time when an entire part of your body is immobilized, there are healthy muscles and mobility around the injured area that become depleted due to this segmented immobilization. There has to be a better way to heal fractures and breaks. For me the greatest difficulty in the healing process wtih the fractured scaphoid was bringing strength and mobility back into the healthy muscles and limbs. My whole hand was dead for about a week after removing the cast, not because the f

After a week of classes I have a vocabulary of a high functioning four-year-old sometimes a five-year-old depending on the time of day, if I have eaten, and if I have had my nap.  Vendredi (Friday) was the first day I began asking questions to Martine and Stefanie. A lot of "Qu'est-ce que c'cest...? Also a lot of "Je suis..." Expressing emotions and and asking questions.  At dinner I listened intently to Martine and Stefanie's conversation While listening I observed their mouths. If you want to speak french, you have to move your mouth. They stopped and looked at me. J'ami a ecouter e regarder vous bocas-Me (correcting me) bouche (mouth)-Martine  She had me repeat the corrected form of the sentence many times. As we were heading out for night of watching Pelote Basque, I noticed Stefanie changed her pants. Choisi un pantalone-Me Oui! (laughs) Katrine, what happened to you today? Did you eat a french dictionary?-Stefanie P.S. Everyone in France calls me Ka

Martine and I did not hit it off very well. She being of a physically short and emotionally stern nature did not find my communicative facial expressions cute in response to my French newborn muteness. Her eyebrows would raise and her blue eyes peer up at me ultimately to complete a full roll to the right. This happened quite a bit. She would stare at me while I cut bread to tell me not to do that. She served me stale baguette for breakfast when I asked for yogurt. My bedroom is the only room in the flat doesn't have wifi.  My very existence was a problem. Stefanie, the German, noticed that Martine cared very little for me. I wondered how Martine and I would live together for three months.  I decided to see if there was another host family I could possibly live with. The college was great and found two other families for me to visit. I set up a time to meet with one. It took about 30 minutes to get there by bus. The mother and daughter were very sweet and emphasized how much they l

Cannes welcomed me with great humidity. The educated retired 65 year-old woman who enjoys sailing, dancing, cinema and long walks picked me up at the College International de Cannes. She looked at my luggage and seemed confused. She began speaking to me in French. I smiled with confusion and humility. "I don't speak french."-me "I don't speak english."-Martine We both stared at each other, probably thinking the same thing. She brought me back to her flat. Very clean and simple, great view.  After some broken english I discovered there was a German girl also staying at the flat. Stefanie speaks english very well and teaches french in Germany so inevitably speaks French quite well also.   Conversations with the three of us consist of Martine and Stefanie speaking in French, me spacing out onto the water, Stefanie rephrases, Martine and I stare at each other trying to gage emotional response of the other while her piercing blue eyes penetrate intensely with the

Fit my entire life into these three carry ons.  Seattle was so sweet to me.  Hours away from my new life on old land.  It's been real America. Really real.  Bon voyage.  Catch ya on the flip side. A little theme music to peace out on : http://youtu.be/b88da_W9U7o  

Something about this city allures my spirit. The natural beauty, the weather, the people, the vibe.  Cities are people.  There are some cities you want to live in; there are some people you want with you on a daily basis. Some cities you can visit multiple times; some people you touch base with every so often.  Those cities you only need to visit once; those people you only meet never to hear from again.  Cities you hang out in for a while because you want to learn something and have an experience;  people come into your life for a period of time to ride a wave until it crashes to shore and a mutual departure is desired. Some cities you have roots in but need to pull out and grow in a new light to someday bring new nutrients to those roots; some people we are connected to from the beginning and need to venture off to find new life and someday bring back and share. Those few cities you only need to visit once and you are exactly where you want to be; those few people you meet and immde

"I love you. I need to unplug from you guys for a while." Silence. These words, thoughts, and emotions had been running through my head since just before getting hit by a truck. The events and actions that followed my accident only made it that easy to walk away.  I don't have it in me anymore to show up to an event just to take a picture to make it seem as if we are all happy and actually know each other. The typecast, one dimensional character you have me so comfortably pegged as has officially been killed off. I refuse to live in a complacent sleep. "I'm not saying this to be hurtful. I'm saying this to be honest." Love you. Need to unplug.

As the GMC Yukon truck hit the left side of my body, my spirit jumped out to the sidewalk to observe. Watching my body hit the ground, laying there in the cute little black outfit from the night before, I thought, "You look sexy... wait a minute, you just started getting sexy...get back in that sexy body!" Spirit jumped back in the body and popped up, got on my bike and said, "I'm going home." Then lightly passed out into a stranger's arms. Coming back to consciousness I was barraged with questions. A lady held my head while a man kept me engaged in consciousness: Man: Do you know your name? Me: Yes Man: What is it? Me: (laying in middle of North Avenue) Is my face all fucked up? Lady: Surprisingly no. Your chin is bleeding (I attempt to lift my arm to touch it). No (pats my arm away). What's your name sweetie? Me: Kathryn McMuffin Man: (Finds my ID and says to the lady) Last name is McPherson. Do you know where you are? Me: North and lunch..

(Some names have been changed for the anonymity of the individuals involved.) Told Dick we shouldn’t see each other sexually anymore. I love him and I don’t know why. He’s an idiot and an asshole and amazing all at the same time. Is he really that amazing though? All I can say is that the man makes me wet. If only we spoke the same language of love and life. There is a very strong attraction between us. Something is missing there. He disconnects and then I go into effort trying figure it out. I’m in way too much effort that yields very little results. Or maybe I’m in a false sense of effort that is actually creating more distance because I’m not being direct with my communication. Whenever Dick and I end something we are actually beginning all over again. Thursday, April 25th, 2013 he told me that he was only wanted to see his ex romantically. I was shocked because I thought we were getting together because he was going to tell me he wanted us to exclusive. I stared at him an

(Meant to get this one out before I got hit by a truck at 30mph on my bike) When a guy tells you that his best friend is his ex and that she will always be in his life (no kids together)...stop seeing this guy. He is telling you everything you need to know. This guy is not ready for a new relationship and clings on to the past.  There is nothing wrong with being on good terms with an ex. When the ex still plays such dominant/permanent role in his life (RED FLAG) it really looks bad on the guy. If she became a lesbian it's fine. Should you choose to keep seeing him it will only be a matter of weeks or even days before they get back together. You are the disposable one in the situation. So do yourself a favor and dispose yourself from the situation. Sure he made you laugh, he was sweet, you had a good time and he will want to remain "friends." In reality his sweetness is based in selfishness. Keep in mind this dude most likely collects ex's and goes back in forth

Sometimes you just have to jump off and watch your life crash to shore.  Let go. Loose control, in the best possible way.  The shore will be there to support the fall.  After the crash, the damage can be assessed along with discovering bits and pieces hidden from the lies put forth to distract from truth and desire keeping the ones we love safe and protected from our natural states of being Sometimes we are the only ones standing in our way. Abandon ship, see what magic comes to play.

Today 4:10pm Ryn McPherson hey how was your bday? 4:38pm Ian Lizzadro McPherson it was okay, I didn't do anything for it. you know me and my birthday 4:41pm Ryn McPherson it's ok to treat yourself. it's nice to do something like eat a good meal or buy something you've been wanting. shit mom would want you to celebrate a little. at least show the woman who brought you into this world some respect by honoring yourself on your birthday 4:42pm Ian Lizzadro McPherson yeah, its really because she made such a big deal of it is why I don't really like it I did buy myself a beer to celebrate 4:55pm Ryn McPherson i'm not saying you have to go all out. but it is a day worth commemorating and sharing it with others. it doesn't have to be lonely, depressing, and deprecating. maybe you should look at the real reason wh