it’s about empowering through body and spirit

I used to like to talk about getting a tattoo to make my parents mad. You see, I don’t think I ever really wanted one. I didn’t want something that would draw attention to this large, frumpy, ugly body that my soul resides in. I don’t really have anything against them. Sometimes they’re attractive, sexy even. Now, I only like one or two on a body, not having every square inch covered by it, and it has to be tasteful. I don’t want a tramp stamp or something on my wrist that couldn’t ever be covered up.

But when I lose 100 pounds and have gotten past the stage in my life where I question everything and struggle with who I truly am, I do think I will get a tattoo. I’ve researched it. I’ve thought about it a lot. It will be small. In fact, I kind of know what I want to get, though the design will stil need to be tweaked, I think. I want something that shows how empowered I am by trusting myself. Something that tells me, “Look, Kate-o, You did it,” whenever I look in the mirror.

Some people can’t handle it. They think that “your body isn’t a myspace” and you shouldn’t desecrate what God gave you. I will be the first to admit that I have my reservations about getting a tattoo. When I’m fifty years old, will I look back and say, “Wow, you were dumb!” Will I hate it a week later? I don’t know.

But it’s part of being young. And when I’m fifty, I won’t walk around showing it off.

So I will empower myself one day, when the time is right and I’m proud of who I’ve become. My body will be a place of beauty. Not of shame.

Until We Meet Again,
Wildcat Kate

glory; one song to leave behind.

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

I had a phenomenal weekend. I should tell you all that, right? I drove to my friend Amanda’s house. She lives in a small town of about 3600 about 4 hours away from me. It was a much needed escape and vacation. I did enjoy myself. Her family is kind and pretty awesome and she and I can laugh and bitch about anything. We always bring out the best in the other, I think. I know that spending time with her always makes me feel better.

And I got the chance to sing the National Anthem at a baseball game. Which, wasn’t really a big deal, but you all know me. Any chance this Wildcat has to perform is a chance that will not be wasted. It wasn’t my best performance, but it was okay. I enjoyed it. And I realized something. (Always a scary thought, right?)

I realized that I have to make a go of a career performing. Not because I need to see my name in lights or that I want hundreds of adoring fans, though, I do enjoy the idea of those perks. I want to change lives. And music does that. Music has always been my escape. Standing on a stage and throwing 100% of my physical and emotional being into another person’s story has always been enlightening and such a rejuvenating experience. I walk away from a good performance both exhausted and fully rested. It’s such an oxymoron, but it’s the onlyway to describe it, I think. And, when it all comes down to the nuts and bolts at the end, I want my life to mean something.

I want it to be measured in a way that I leave my friends and family awe-struck by my works and grateful to have had me in their lives.

So, I suppose all this post is for is to say that I have reestablished who I want to be when I grow up. I haven’t made any real progress. I ate like a pig and didn’t exercise. I didn’t learn anything new or try to make my dream of Broadway come true, unless you count the Star Spangled Banner performance. But I did better myself. A weekend to focus on me and my relationship with Amanda bettered me so much.

Until we meet again,
Wildcat Kate

“i don’t own emotion, i RENT”

As you, in your infinite knowledge and wisdom, may or may not know. . .this wildcat went to see the Broadway Tour of RENT in St. Louis in the beginning of June. I’d bought tickets with not-so-bestest-friend and we drove the 8 hours down there, through a rainy morning, creepy guy at the Hardee’s in the truck stop, the discovery of the disposable rental DVD, billboards for Nostalgiaville, USA, and a massive storm going into St. Louis that caused a 30 minute delay at a gas station. Did I mention that TomTom, my new toy and GPS, led us to a fake Wal-Mart? Well, it was actually a Wal-Mart truck lot thingy, but…still…

We went to RENT that first night and decided the next day that we were going to wait eight hours in line to see it again, only this time, instead of seeing it from the Mezzanine for $67 each, we would pay $20 for the lottery tickets to sit in the 2nd row and see it again. It was amazing. It was the best experience of my life thus far. Furthermore, we hung out around the stage door, which wasn’t really the stage door, but if I’ve learned anything from loving theatre, it’s that you’ll meet a few people at the back door that isn’t crowded and they’ll generally be in a better mood because there’s fewer fans screaming at them. We met two cool girls who drove from Chicago. And then, in all of his glory, Adam Pascal walked out, joked around with us, gave us hugs, signed playbills, and took pictures. He was so kind…and his sweatshirt was very much fuzzy.

The next day we went sights seeing – tour of Budweiser, visiting Union Station (given that we were staying at the Union Station Drury Inn…and that hotel search, well, remind me for that story sometime), and driving by the Arch, which really wasn’t that cool. Why do I share this story? God, there could be so many reasons. I learned so much on that trip. How to have fun with people you aren’t getting along with, how to drive in a big city, how to handle yourself when there’s a storm and you’re on the interstate. During that eight hour wait, I met a woman who had $1 to spend on dinner that night. I was spending a total of $87, not including food, transportation, and lodging, to see a show twice because of two cast members.

I tell you this story, though, because it’s my story of the moment I said, “I will perform for the rest of my life.”

I want to move a house to tears and change a teenager’s life. I want to make people laugh harder than they’ve ever laughed and surprise them with a small addition to the script that wasn’t there before. I want my name in lights and to know that I did something to make a difference. I want to feel the rush of the lights going up and the applause. That’s my dream.

And I’m going to fight for it…I will do anything. And that’s just how it goes.

Until We Meet Again,
Wildcat Kate

blog entry tributed to Mr. Jonathan Larson, composer of RENT. A name and legacy that has gone down in history and changed the world of musical theatre as we know it.

“With My Head Held High…”

I know I said I’d try to update this weekly…and I haven’t done so. But here is my update. Because it’s never too late to jump back on the bandwagon. I think It’s been hard because my big sister has been breaking from the world of blogging. And she’s kind of why I started this thing — to stay in touch with her.

Alright, my three things to speak on. In order:

1. Weight Loss Goal of 100 lbs. :: I bought an iPod touch the other day. Okay, okay, I know…you’re all thinking, ‘But Wildcat Kate, buying an iPod doesn’t mean you shed like 20 lbs overnight.” But it’s how I’m using my iPod Touch (which, as a side note, is the best investment I’ve made in a very long time) that makes all of the difference. I pop in my headphones and walk an hour every night (though, I fell short a couple of days this week. One due to weather and one due to the fact that I was sore and tired and one because I played softball that day…two games. I also downloaded an app called LoseIt! (Big Sister suggested that one…). It’s kind of like Weight Watchers without paying, and a free app. So I started using that today and have my number of calories figured out for each day. Wish me luck!
2. Preparing for Broadway :: I have started learning guitar. It’s actually pretty sweet, shockingly enough. Which really doesn’t get me to Broadway so much as my goal of Captive Free. But the experience of Captive Free will look good on a resume, so that will help with my performance. I also purchased the Aida and Little Shop of Horrors soundtracks. Exposure to new shows = more audition material and opportunities. Perfect.
3. How Did I Better Myself? :: This morning I took my mother’s position as Hospitality Team Leader at church. Mostly because she’s ill so I had no choice. Nonetheless, it made me feel good to greet the members of my church with a smile and know that I was doing some good. I know it’s lame, but to me, that’s important.

In the meantime, I go back to school on August 17th, 2009. Saw my new roomie about a week ago. I miss her lots. And I will be going to visit BFF next weekend. Summer is going fast. And I’m beyond ready for it to be done!

No real moral to this story…but catch regular updates at @wildcat__kate on Twitter. Also, shameless plug, feel free to follow this And let me know what you think of my journey. That’s why it’s out here.

Until We Meet Again,
Wildcat Kate

what about the children?!

You would think I’d be ashamed to admit that Jon and Kate Plus 8 is one of my favorite television shows. My big sister got me hooked on it last summer when she was pregnant with her daughter and I was visiting for part of the summer until little Wuzzle was born. We watched baby shows, and somehow, the story of the couple with eight children – 2 six year olds and 6 two year olds – became a staple of our nightly show watching routine.

I always kind of admired them, though I thought Kate was a little insane. I always [secretly] dreamed of being part of a big family. Don’t get me wrong…I love my sister and and parents, I really do, but I always wanted someone closer to my age. Someone I could play with and call my friend. Yet when you look at them now and watch as their family, the life they’ve come to know, falls apart, it’s hard not to gaze on with pity or wonder what caused this seemingly loving family to fall apart. I read articles stating that the show is becoming “Jon & Kate Plus 8 [Divided by 2],” and I can’t imagine what it would be like to be living their life right now. I mean, my parents are still together and, for the most part, happy.

And what about the children? How will this forever effect them? It’s like the Michael Jackson tragedy. Losing someone influential is difficult, but why not think about how his kids reacted? I mean, really. Or, better yet, let’s mourn the loss of someone who provided the generations who experienced his musc so much, WHILE worrying about things like the election in Iran. It’s just a thought.

I guess what I’m really trying to get at is that I’m amazed with the standards this society has for what is news-worthy. Certainly the destroyed marriage of parents of eight stinks, but if they had never taken the show and let fame change them, would this be happening?  The loss of Billy Mays, Ed McMahon, Michael Jackson, and Farrah will forever plague us and we will remember the day that 3 people so influential to Hollywood passed on, the week that 4 left our presence forever. But perhaps we’re all too focused on those little things to remember the big picture.

Moral of the story? I am not ashamed to watch Jon and Kate Plus 8, or to like it. Nor am I ashamed that I follow the tabloids and worry about what’s new in the world of show business. I am, however, very disgruntled at the fact that there are days when I care more about the cover of US Weekly than the front page of the local newspaper. Read that.

Until We Meet Again,
Wildcat Kate

There’s Always Gonna Be Another Mountain

I know I’ve neglected this poor blog. Let’s all be honest, I am not the most responsible when it comes to updating my life or…whatever…but now, now I will update it. Now I will be truthful and let you in on the past few months or so. I will make a vow to better myself by sharing progress with others and working on my own personal goals.

You see, I’ve been wasting my summer away playing games on the computer. Things like The Sims 3 or trying to beat my latest score at Tetris Friends. I’ve let myself neglect real life in favor of living a virtual one because I’m lazy. I’ve gone to church for work and then come home and sat on my butt. How is that chasing after dreams? I mean, really, it’s not! It could never be.

So this is my new vow: I am going to post in The Life & Times of Wildcat Kate at least once a week stating the following things.

1. How my path of weightloss (goal: lose 100 pounds) is going.
2. What I have done this week to work towards a goal of performing on Broadway. (Did I watch a new musical? Practice? Did I lose more weight? Networking?)
3. At least one thing I have done for myself – how I am bettering myself as an individual. (Random act of kindness? Whatever I think it could be.)

I am determined to change who I am. Because, let’s be honest, I’m not happy with the person I’ve become. I’m not as good as I could be. I should probably work on that.

For more regular updates, follow me on Twitter — @wildcat__kate

Until we meet again,
Wildcat Kate

“A lifetime [might be] too long to live as friends…”

One of my favorite songs growing up was by Michael W. Smith. You’ve probably heard it, at least if you’re my age or older…if you haven’t, let me know and I’ll find you a recording, or Project Playlist it. It’s called Friends. And is all cheesy. No joke. I mean, just read the lyrics to the chorus:

And friends are friends forever
If the Lord’s the Lord of them
And a friend will not say never
‘Cause the welcome will not end
Though it’s hard to let you go
In the Father’s hands we know
That a lifetime’s not too long to live as friends.

See, I always put faith in this song, but now I don’t so much. Most people I know have a lifetime friend, someone who they’ve known since Elementary school and still chat with occasionally. Some are very close. My big sister has Kunkee. My friend Amy has Kelsey. Amanda has Ciera. Everyone’s got someone except me. I’m not friends with anyone I went to elementary school with. I’m not friends with the same people from middle school. And, truthfully, I didn’t carry my middle school friends to high school. And now that I’m in college, I don’t have many friends from high school anymore.

I really only have one left. Her name is Erin, and I thought she was the one to withstand it all, that once we met and came to be friend through church at the end of our freshman year of high school, we’d be friends until the end. And yeah, she might read this, but maybe then she’ll get how I feel. We’ve been planning this roadtrip to St. Louis to see RENT. She asked me if she could bring a friend and, now that we’ve talked about it a bajillion times, I figured it was through her head that I really wanted it to be just us. I ordered the tickets and then, all of a sudden, she brought up bringing the other girl…AGAIN.

I don’t see how someone who claims to be a friend would continue to hurt me this much. Especially since I told her that when she keeps inviting people along, it makes me feel as though she doesn’t want to be around me. I’ve directly expressed just how hurt this situation makes me feel. Furthermore, I don’t see why I can’t carry any friends over the big changes in my life. I feel kind of alone…and it scares me. Because I don’t want to grow up to be a cat lady who fiddles all day and because she doesn’t have any friends.

Moral of the story, no matter how close you may be to someone, friendships fizzle and die, and maybe forever isn’t for everyone.

Until we meet again,
Wildcat Kate

“forget regret, or life is yours to miss”

I’m packing my dorm room right now. You see, my parents & cousin are coming out tomorrow to load all of the big stuff from my dorm room into a van my dad is renting. It’s time to go home. I have one more final & the wind ensemble plays at commencement, and then it’s summer.  And, don’t you dare get me wrong, I am PUMPED for this summer. I am going to see my bestest friend, spend some time with my sister and am just plain ready for a break from the college life, a chance to recoup & whatnot. But at the same time, I realize that I have come full circle in this room.

On move in day, the entire family was there. Mom, Dad, Sister, Brother-in-Law, Niece, Aunt, and Uncle (on Dad’s side, mind you). It was the most exciting day of my life. It was the saddest day of my life. I walked into this room, 317 Anderson Hall, and I set down the bag I’d carried up onto the bed and I said, “This is where I’ll spend the next year of my life.”

I didn’t realize just what that year of my life was going to bring; what that room was going to go through. Laughter & tears. Friendships both strained and renewed. Secrets shared and confidence broken. I didn’t know that the next year of my life would lead me to both the best and worst experiences of my life. Would I go back and do it all over if I could? Yeah, I would. But only because I want to relieve the experiences and cherish them more. I wouldn’t change a thing. I wouldn’t change the fights. I wouldn’t change the poor performances or the moments when I thought I’d change majors. I wouldn’t change the inside jokes I had or the moments at the Willow Bowl at midnight. Every moment, every event has created me into the person I am today.

So I’ve come full circle, because I’m sitting in the middle of an almost-empty dorm room. It’s kind of sad looking now. It’s much like it was the day I moved into it, with bare walls and two plain-old desks. It’s currently a single room, as it started for me – band camp with no roommate, might as well end the year with no roommate. My dorm room is to be left exactly as I found it. The entire year I’ve just experienced is packed into some plastic totes, a suitcase, and a million memories. I have no regrets as to how my freshman year of college unfolded. I have no reason to wish for change.

I don’t know what my life will bring, but it’s bound to be good, and I’m going to make sure I cherish each moment from this point forward. There are too many remnants of a memory from this year that I can’t quite piece together the facts, and I would rather that not be how I live my life. I mean, I’m not coming back to Anderson 317 next year. I will be living with a new roomie in Berry 201. I can only hope that my new home away from home will bring me the same amazing experiences this room has.

I hope that next year, when some new girl walks into this room for the first time, she can smile and say, “This is where I’ll spend the next year of my life.” And then, I hope she loves it like I did. I hope she wouldn’t ever change a second. After all, leaving this dorm room isn’t an end, it’s a new beginning.

Until we meet again,
Wildcat Kate

Yes, I’ve neglected this dear, sweet blog. I am sorry. But…while I’m away…check this out:

my wish to you…

It kills me. I can’t count the number of times I’ve had my own heart broken, but I’ve never been the heartbreaker. Not until last night. When I finally broke things off for good with the boy I’d been seeing for nearly 4 months. Granted, it had been on and off, but now…now it’s just off.

It breaks my heart, too. So It’s not as though I just hurt him and said, “So be it” or anything. I cried, too. I stayed up half of the night wishing I could figure out why it didn’t work. Because that’s the honest to God truth. It just wasn’t working. And I had to do what was best for both of us before he or I was hurt worse.

I guess life isn’t perfect. We all face those moments…moments where someone is more attached then you. Moments where what’s right and what’s easy are two very different things. But I had to fact that I loved the idea of having someone to cuddle with at night and he was in love with me. They are two very different things. I want only the best for him and I still care for him a lot, but…

Moral of the story? It’s hard, but heartbreak does happen. And we do survive it.

Until we meet again,
Wildcat Kate