Monthly Archives of: January 2011


I think this line’s mostly filler.


Oh, hey, internet! I didn’t see you there.

I have a new job where I finally write for a living, and it’s kicking my ass a little. Not that I’m too good for you now or anything, but I am QUITE busy and important these days (I have nine meetings today. NINE! Don’t these people know that Facebook won’t stalk itself?). I’ve had to readjust my lifestyle that now that I’m required to WORK at work, but rest assured that I haven’t forgotten you, dear internet. I’ve been here, working through the big questions (when do I play Words with Friends? Now that I tweet professionally, should I be paying more attention to my personal content? Or at least to my use of the word ‘motherfucker’? Why does thinking make me so HUNGRY?), and our regular programme of capslock and whinging should resume shortly. I have so many THINGS I wish to tell you!

I mean, good lord, I haven’t posted a single kitten picture here. Unacceptable. UNFORGIVABLE. You all follow me on Twitter, right? You can keep up with my cat’s diet (all things, especially MY things), interests (jumping on my head, clawing at my face) and habits (food stealing, head jumping, tail chasing) thrice daily over there. I KNOW YOU GUYS LIKE TO STAY INFORMED. His latest thing is to chase his tail while reclining in the bath, because the slope and the slippery bath surface make him slide around in circles. Then he likes to jump on my head and gnaw at my Kindle. It’s SUPER CUTE.

Lucas Alfredo Sawyer “BAD CAT” Johnston, esq.
Shortly after this he leapt at my face, drawing blood in several places.

I love him.


So, back in December Jef and I crossed something off both of our to-do lists. And then we entered a silent battle of wills over who’d do the hard yards and blog about it first, which is why you haven’t heard about it yet.


Check back soon (so that I will be forced to actually write it) for Katie and Jeffrey Pack Heat: A Tale.



Good morning, twenty-eleven!

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I’m feeling very inspired, but in a restless, itchy way. I want to do all sorts of things. Every single thing. I don’t feel like I’m the best version of myself right now — I have a great time, I’m relaxed, but I’m relaxed because I’m lazy. I’m not really doing anything. I think about doing things, and then I have a glass of wine or call someone about brunch.

The urge to resolve to do things is overwhelming in January. I want to plant a vege garden and dress like I’m sophisticated and go to Morocco and take up pole dancing and learn to make chutney and save the whales and, oh, you know, actually write this book already. I want to be more confident. Less drunk. Care less. Care more.

I want a farmhouse and an old dog and a lavender bush. I want city lights and nights out. Sometimes I want a baby and sometimes I really don’t. Romantic watercolour worlds dazzle my imagination daily, and I’m never quite sure what’s me and what’s a fuzzy idealistic painting in my head. I don’t want your life, but sometimes I feel like a moth batting at the window because the light looks so warm. I’m still not quite sure what my life is going to be.

I’m still in progress. Please hold.


I like this quote from Ricky Gervais: I don’t want to impress people I wouldn’t cross the road to talk to. I want there to be a strict door policy at my club. I want to go, “You can’t come in. You won’t like this. And I don’t want you to like it.”


I’m not going to make resolutions. I still have a list of them from last year I’m supposed to finish by April — things I still want to do, but that feel like a box of rocks when I think about them. I don’t want experiences to be checkboxes, things I do to get them done.

But I don’t want that statement to make me lazy.

I want to do new things, but I want to decide to do new things and then go and do them, rather than adding them to a list I’ll never finish.

Here’s what I’m willing to resolve:

  • I want to write After. I want to find my discipline and my passion for this, and stop paralysing myself with all my stupid insecurities. I want to write this book for myself, because I love it and I want it to exist. Then I can go to Morocco and South America and write pirates!
  • I want to lose this last 4kg. I’ve lost 10 now. Last week I wore a bikini in (semi-)public for the first time in my life. I’ve been thinner than this, but I’ve always been too self-conscious to enjoy it. The other day I dived into a swimming pool, and it felt incredible. I haven’t dived in forever, and it reminded me how good it feels when my body does exactly what I want it to do. How it feels to feel strong and powerful and balanced and agile. All that stuff. I feel good lately. I want to feel better.

    So, no, I want to resolve to feel good about myself. To live well and enjoy myself — but to take care of myself. Make time for myself.

  • Save money. Take opportunities. Do stuff. Love stuff. LIVE.


My darling friend Bec got engaged on New Year’s Eve. A couple of years ago we would have been sitting in our regular spot (outside, by the fire) at the North Vancouver Cactus Club, drunk on bellinis and yam fries and swaddled in blankets, bitching about life while the snow fell around us. I wish I could go back there and let us know that it all works out. I’m so happy for her.