You may not know the importance of the outfit I am wearing today…I didn’t connect the dots until moments after I heard the news. 

Turns out…my ultimate band, Pearl Jam, announced additional dates to their fall tour.  Um, guess who’s city is on the list???

Um, yeah, obviously…this girl’s. 


My town, my backyard, my turf, my people…my favorite songs played in my favorite city…for me (and only me)!

Surely I know someone who knows someone who can get me backstage?? Surely I can bribe someone’s brother’s cousin to let me into the sanctuary that is the backstage?? Or sound check?? I would be ok sitting on the sidelines for sound check. 

Or….secretly cheersing some bottles of beer together at one of the city’s best dive bars.  With the whole band and crew and even all the wives and shit too.  Yeah, I would be ok with that. 

The outfit.  Strangely enough, I am wearing the same outfit that I wore to my very first Pearl Jam show in Chicago at Wrigley last summer.  And there I was scrolling through my Facebook news feed…which I mostly despise…and there it was.  Music for me!!

When you choose clothes, the universe knows…and it makes things happen that mean something…and if you pay attention, you find these strange connections all over the place.

I am hoping there is some connection that leads my hand to shake Eddie’s….eh, who am I kidding, I need a hug. I deserve a hug!!!!


I am not athletic.

The lovelies and I caught a few ice skating performances on the Olympics last night. 

I remember being young and watching in awe…gawking at the girls in sparkly outfits spinning and hurtling themselves through the chilly air.  I always wondered how they got those nude colored leggings around their skates without tearing holes in them. 

There was a woman who skated to Pink Floyd last night.  Shine on you crazy diamond. 

I began to think of all the great songs I would skate to if I were talented and not a weak ankled, fat knee’d, awkward faced, cynical mom with unachievable, athletic, childhood dreams. 

Of course, you know me, and I would have to skate to Eddie.  I noticed everyone tries to skate to beautiful and moving pieces of music.  I would have to make a medley of Pearl Jam.   A little Chris Cornell and Soundgarden action could be great too. 

Maybe Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch? Color Me Badd??  Vanilla Ice???  Salt n Peppa?  Matchbox 20??  Stone Temple Pilots?  Nirvana???

Grunge is like poetry, arguably, and so is ice skating, I guess. 

I could wear a signature Cobain cardigan.  I could have a pair of Doc Marten ice skates fashioned as well.

I wouldn’t smile.  I would keep an air of angst and dirt and just enough self doubt.  I might even flip people off but I would school some fucking ice skating haters.  I would be so good on those triple axles and so visually and musically ironic, no one could handle it. 

I would be the best role model for young girls.  My own kids would roll their eyes and say, ugh mom, not Pearl Jam again. 

start her up


Check out my dirty windshield.

It’s a good thing I was on my way to get a new car….

I was out of washer fluid.  I would’ve made it clean and clear if it weren’t for the spattering combination of salt, slush, and dirt from behind a few 18 wheelers.  Winter driving really does nothing for visibility.

But I got a new car!  It’s nice.  It was time to give the old one back because the lease was expiring, so I got to pick out a new one.  The winter laughs at me…because I got a black one.  By tomorrow, it will look gray.  It was destiny, though.  As I turned the key and started her up, the radio kicked on and I heard him.  I heard my Eddie singing to me. I turned it up to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating from all the waiting room coffee.  It was Eddie Vedder singing Dissident for me.


Lovely #2 also informed me of her first loose tooth today.  I nearly gave away the whole tooth fairy gig.  I mentioned that I might have some of Lovely #1’s old teeth.

What??  Wait….how do you have my teeth?

Well…I wanted to keep at least one for myself.  I’m your mom!  I snuck it and left a note for the tooth fairy saying that I wanted to keep one.  I didn’t want her to have them all.

Suspicious…very suspicious.

Uh…..Hey, check out the cool new car….



I was reminded today, of this red notebook filled with my own poetry.  Poetry that I wrote between the ages of 15 and 18…probably on my bedroom floor, listening to Pearl Jam really quietly.  I was probably writing them by the glow of my maroon lava lamp or by candlelight.  It was probably between the hours of 11 pm and 2 am.

I knew it was tucked away in a storage bin in my basement with other samples of writing that I’ve saved over the years.  I had to get it out.  I had to read it.  I thought that I would find some diamonds in the rough.

I gotta tell ya, I found a lot of rough in the rough.  Seriously, talk about teen angst.  I had a lot of anger to express about something… I actually made a lot of it rhyme.  It was all pretty bad…and actually really depressing.

Here’s a gem for you:

Never…by the brain of kate circa 1997

Any love so bold and true, could never compare to the love I had for you…

Any hate as strong as steel, could never compare to the hate that I now feel.

Wow. Intense!  How about a funny one??

salsa…by the brain of kate circa 1999

My mom makes the best salsa-

-she can’t dance.



I made it to see Pearl Jam in Chicago on July 19th. If you’ve been following my blog, you know how epic this was for me to do. I’ve been wanting to see Pearl Jam live since I was 12.

This is probably the best photo I have from the most expensive nose bleed seats in Wrigley (which was over half paid for by my stellar co-workers!!).

Despite a two hour rain delay 7 songs in, and a two hour train delay on the way home, I loved it!!!

They played so many of my personal faves…Release, Nothingman, Small Town, Corduroy, Evolution, Faithfull, Even Flow, Setting Forth (from the into the wild soundtrack), and State of Love and Trust.

It. Was. Amazing.

Return to writing

Well, blog….I’ve neglected you yet again.  I’ve been thinking about you.  I’ve been thinking about all the things I could be telling you about. 

I’m working my way up to it, I suppose. 

Since we’ve started a new month and all, I thought I would tease the world with an annoyingly unimpressive blog post.

Tune in next week for more nostalgic blurbs about the 90’s, Eddie Vedder, my juicer, and other tidbits. 

Thanks in advance for reading!! 

My so called dog


Doesn’t she remind you of Claire Danes from My So-Called Life? 

Grunge dog.  The more I thought about it yesterday, the more it made me giggle.  I mean, she dresses in all black, wears a choker necklace, is technically in her teen years, has dirty hair and always looks bitterly depressed.  

I’m sure she writes poetry at 3 am. 

Even her breed matches.  Great Dane? Claire Danes?  It was meant to be! 

It’s just too bad that she can’t marry Jordan Catalano and have little grunge puppies in cardigan sweaters.  She’s stuck with me.  She’s my wife-pup, Jordan!!! Go shake that hair and blink those blue eyes at someone else.  Dick. 

grunge and glitter

Yesterday’s glitter-storm of valentine making proved mighty exciting.  Almost as exciting as seeing Soundgarden tonight.  As I carry around the leftover teal and lavender glitters from head to toe, I am optimistic that it will make me blindingly sparkly for Mr. Chris Cornell.  I’m sure he will deliver me a backstage pass and inquire about my sparkly style.

I mean, how do you get it to whoosh around behind you when you walk?  

Well, Chris…can I call you Chris? You have to make valentines with me to find out.

I’m there.

And that’s how Chris Cornell and I became best friends and how I met my second husband, Eddie Vedder.  How did you think all that happened?