Beauty and Dis Bish

Okay so before I start rambling on about the exciting/exhausting events surrounding my social life, I thought I’d explore a different facet of my routine that is becoming more and more relevant, HaIr MaInTenAnCe

This is meant to be a sincere apology to my poor, once-fucked locks, in the form of a photo montage.

I am currently in the midst of trying to grow my hair out to what will hopefully be a free and unmanageable length. That will officially mark the first time I have had long hair in about four years.

^The last time I had long hair it was 2008, the summer of the American Apparel Bodysuit. Yes I am 18 in this picture so feel free to look at my vagina.

I should also mention that before I went short in ’09 (and for quite a while after) I was cutting my own hair with kitchen scissors and sometimes thinning it with a disposable razor.

^I cut my bangs using crayola construction paper scissors and ate nothing but amphetamines for a month because I wanted to look like Alice Glass

I was hacking at my head so regularly that I was left with almost nothing.

^Here I am at a cut copy show rocking the asian lesbian look

^This cut was based off of the brunette Agyness Deyn look. I literally used a venus razor to make the top thin enough to stick straight up and it still barely ever did. I would show you the one picture of my attempt to pull that off, but I look like a dead straight guy.

Then my brother started dating a hair stylist and I was able to take advantage of her kindness enough that she shaped what became my signature look, the curly ass top mop with the buzzed back and sides. We used to have buzz parties at 506 Church when all the boys and Jesi and I had slightly different versions of the same haircut. I would still refer to it as “The Official Haircut of TBT.”

^I cannot even begin to describe the amount of cool I correctly believed I was at the time of this photo. As cool as anyone can be in the study lounge of UNC’s Koury residence hall (not very).

I held true to that asymmetry, knowing how awkward it would be to grow out (I tried once and wore a beanie for about 6 months before buzzing it again).

^In the fall of 2010. You can see how Reid and I have the same basic shape to our hurr. You can also see that I’m wearing a children’s faux fur from Limited Too and that Reid is carrying a Coors Light box as a purse. Anthropological gold mine, this photo. 

So, fine. I was stuck with the same hair well into 2011. But I got to have that cool topknot all the boys think is soooOOo hot and original these days.

^shout out to patrick, kraft, candy necklaces and of course, me.

In the Spring of 2011,  I had Hannah dye chunks of the brown purple and blue.

^Uncontrollable excitement in Chapel Hill’s Rec Room due entirely to something called ~Loaded Tater Tots~. Also what’s up, Austin.

When I decided to go blonde that Summer the color she’d used for those chunks was impossible to be bleached out and we had to darken that section to a light brown.

^me n Sass posing for our live webcam banner ad

When Winter came along, I wanted to go even lighter and for reasons I cannot recall chose to darken that chunk in contrast. It was sort of a goth-tramp look.

In April I went blonder than I had ever been before. The blondest of the blonde. I felt like my brown hair had emphasized my accountability, indulged my realism…you know, helped me give fucks. I was so obsessed with my new hair I could hardly remember my reason for living before the transformation. Being blonde gave me LIFE.

^despite the fact that I look pissed and that I couldn’t manage to successfully straighten my hair, this is the best picture I have of the initial blondeness.

My decision to go crazy with Manic Panic in all-over magenta only a month later came suddenly. I was moving to New York. I had just gotten dumped. Sarah Sassafrass was right there with an array of semi-permanent colors. I went for it.

^Me v pink, giving face at myself in the mirror. The usual.

It washed out by July and left me with honey blonde locks that, while my ideal color, felt entirely like straw. I had always used cheap shampoo and conditioner until this year. Probably for the same reason I used to cut my hair with kitchen scissors. Probably for the same reason I boycotted blankets in the Winter of ’05. I am very good at rationalizing laziness.
^V bored and emo. You can kind of see that I straightened the ends here, which I fell into the habit of doing for the rest of the summer. It also destroyed about half of my hair as it had been zapped of its nutrients from all the coloring in the first place.

So I had a haircut that, okay, it didn’t suck I guess. But I was struggling to figure out how to grow the short brown sides while still blending them with the long blonde ends.

Last month I started working part-time as a receptionist a hair salon (as you know, I don’t like to use proper nouns until I can’t get fired from those proper nouns). It allows me to afford my apartment, which at 725/month is about 2.5x what I used to pay in North Carolina and considered a steal for most of habitable Brooklyn. Despite the fact that I have been taking better care of my hair recently–Redken extreme antisnap treatment, seriously it’s the shit–a large part of my job involved stylists looking at my hair and saying “what are we going to do with this…?” or “wow, you’ve got a situation” or my personal favorite, silently running their fingers through my hair with their lips pursed while I work. Luckily I have a good sense of humor and irrationally high self-esteem. But the other night I decided to bite the bullet and have Hannah cut me a reasonable adult haircut that doesn’t look like Daffy Duck after his head got smashed in a piano. She blended the regrowth with a reddish brown tone, and I was left with a what I believe to be very chic version of Juila Stiles cut in The Prince and Me (a movie I have not actually seen).

Vry ‘chic’ for work, still slightly asymmetrical, and I think it will look even better crimped with some butterfly clips.

THIS IS A MAJOR STEP FOR ME. I feel like I can be taken a bit more seriously now with semi-norm hair, which may have been a necessary adjustment? It’s also important to start making investments at this stage in life. I have no excuse not to buy the proper treatments for my hair just because they cost 20 dollars, when I would spend that much on a Monday night buying a personal deep dish pizza that will ruin my entire week. Spending money on things you actually need feels really good. In the end I’ll probably waste the rest on food and alcohol, but if i’m going to be broke with a fat ass I WILL AT LEAST HAVE THICK, HEALTHY, LUXURIOUS HAIR.


I’ll tell 2001 you said hey.

SHOP TALK: gchatting at work

Alexander: oh hunny

my friends

and my roomie

are in nyc


for cmj

maybe you should go to one of their shows and meet them!

spencer is a nice cutie patootie too

and the only single one.

me: oh shit

Alexander: they are playing tho

in a band

they are good people to know

me: lol

who the fuck do you live with

also i’m gonna need a jpeg

Alexander: i live with giuliano


my bud

and he’s in a band with spencer

who i wrote a script with

and who i adore

he’s a lovable jew

who doesnt really practice either

so an atheist

but he’s the best!

a jpeg?


me: non practicing jewish musician slash writers are my type HOW DID YOU KNOW

am i that transparent?


it’s either that or impotent asians with arrested development

i believe it’s most efficient to divide and conquer culturally when it comes to sex

right now i’m on jews, next is puerto ricans, then over 40 polish men that work in fried chicken restaurants

Alexander: ooooo chicken!

me: free food should not be discounted

are you going to tell me more about this cutie pie


the one on the left

far left


Alexander: (we’ve made out before)

me: yeah

Alexander: i think that’s an old photo

me: i don’t trust straight men whose bffs are gay

it’s policy. i know how things work.

Alexander: it was one time

and we were on drugs

calm down

me: haha I’M SO UNCLAM

Alexander: you are rude

im trying to set your up with GOOD PEOPLE

you dont have to hook up you know

you can have friends

stop thinking with your vagina

me: i’m not being rude at all you psycho

you’re the one who told me he was single!

Alexander: i thought it would sweeten the deal!

me: AND i’m obviously joking

Alexander: arigh arigh

me: i’d love to meet themin

i wish you were here!

to introduce us

so do you live with both of them?

Alexander: no just giuliano



Alexander: YAH

me: you got mad at me easily alex

are you having a rough morning

Alexander: no

i was just annoyed about finding a picture

because fb makes it hard

me: hahahaha

Alexander: im like buh buh buh

me: i thought you were trying to set me up with a boo

so i needed to see what he looked like of course

are you dating anyone:


sorry that was accidental all caps

i’ve had a lot of coffee today

Alexander: mmmmm dates

but i dont really want to commit to anything


me: yeah


i don’t really have a life

Alexander: so the dating is inherently

kinda lame

because i waste time and money

and im like what was that for again?

me: so if i got a man he’d like become my life probably and that would suk


Alexander: exactly

me: have you been ~sexually active~

Alexander: it doesnt make sense really now


it was funny

i was hooking up with this guy

me: lolol

Alexander: but he got all intimate on me

and started choking me

and i was like????

so choked him back

it was fun

but he wanted to cuddle

and i wanted to sleep

so im over it

me: hahahaha

choking AND cuddling


bipolar sex

Alexander: yeah

the funny part was that the choking was more fun than the cuddling

and it just got way to intimate

like the second date

i asked him to stay over

me: i’m sorry

for what i just tweeted

let me know if i should delete it

Alexander: ill check it later

but like

me: haha i just quoted you saying “the choking was more fun than the cuddling”

Alexander: we were doing ourselves

you know

and then he kept being like

“im thinking about you fucking me”

and i was like


me: what do you mean “doing ourselves”

Alexander: i dont know it was a turn off

like whacking ourselves off

me: hahaha

why was that a turn off

wasn’t that the point?


Alexander: im not sure

i just dont think i like him

so maybe it wasn’t even that

me: yeah it doesn’t sound like it


Alexander: normally i’d be into it (the dirty talk)

me: sometimes it’s hard for me to feel intimate towards someone in the light of day

if i don’t like them a LOT

Alexander: i did like the choking though

me: it’s either get in/get out or marry me

Alexander: exactly

me: unless i’m drunk

Alexander: yeah

and i think being promiscuous is fun

me: in which case let’s pretend to be married even though we don’t know each other

Alexander: but let it just be business then

me: haha yeah

Alexander: im more upset you didnt @mention me

me: i did!

Alexander: hrtmmm



into it

sorry it didnt come up till now

me: hahahha

i miss youuuu

Alexander: yayayaya

me too

i think im going to base my new character after you in my next script

but later kathryn

me: hahaha

less cray

Alexander: like 28 yr old kathryn

me: the adult, productive me

with a sprinkle of neurosis and sex addiction


Alexander: and a smidgel of alcohol dependency

(i’ve already written a little bit of the script so go with it)

me: smidgel!


i’m so thrilled future me is inspirational to you

Alexander: she’s hungover over the in the first scene

but she’s funny!

me: five years in the future and 3000 miles away

Alexander: haha

me: but still

to backtrack

it’d be nice to have a meaningful relationship with someone other than the dude who wraps my chipotle burritos

Alexander: HAHAHHAA

i just LOL’d really hard

me: hahaha yayyy

i refuse to do actual work right now

Alexander: #tweetingit

me: my assignment is to do research on these two decapitated baseball players

Alexander: LOL

me: HAHA

i love that that’s ur reaction

we understand each other

we also love ourselves so much IT’S GREAT

Alexander: i mean i can see them running around the field

and bumping into each other

and miss the popfly

and they are like DAMN IT



this is really bad that i’m laughing at this when i just read three articles about their devastated families.

has anyone seen my soul? anyone? missing soul over here.

Alexander: LOL

me: i should have stopped eating hours ago

Alexander: HAH

i should have started doing work hours ago

me: hahaha

Alexander: see with my situation is that i could be fired

and my career ruined.

me: we should start our own business

Alexander: this is me writing last night


i order a pizza

come back to it

and im like “eh it’s not so bad”

and then keep writing

me: hahahaha

Alexander: i think i was just grumpy

and hungry

me: and you know sometimes you just have to take a step back

how many scripts do you have now?’

Alexander: well this will be my 2nd feature

but it’s fun

ill send you logline

me: yes

is it going to be overly self referential

Alexander: yeah it already is

me: teha

did you see cabin in the woods?

it was a great concept gone bad


i liked it

me: hahaha

Alexander: but only because i was really high

me: i liked it too

i just thought it could have been way cooler

Alexander: and i didnt know what was going on

me: hahahaha

you were probably their exact target audience

Alexander: OH

but spencer’s band

they are on pitchfork today

very happy for them!

me: what’s the name of the band?

Alexander: incan abraham

me: lol

that’s a ridiculous name

i love it

Alexander: yeah im not sure either but their new song is pretty good

im more excited for their next release but since this is their first posting on pitchfork it means good things

me: yeah that’s huge

Alexander: yeah giuliano called me

this morning

freaking out

me: success for everyone!

Alexander: he was like “I HAD TO TELL SOMEONE”

me: aww

Alexander: and i was like YAY

me: are you guys getting married?


me: there has to be a division of pulitzers reserved for the worst news headlines

“All Tragic Death Team”

Alexander: hahahaa


me: “A Moonless Evening, A Quiet Lake”

are these people kidding

i just said bless you to my coworker and he said “i know right”

Alexander: ?


you are making me laugh today

i keep forgetting you are my muse

me: hahahahahahahahah

that is literally the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me

you say the darndest things

we should do this more often

Alexander: yeah

well i was having trouble engaging with my main character last night

and i realize i STILL need to base it off people i know

regardless of cliches

of the heroine

me: can i be perfectly honest when i say that i have mostly been switching back and forth between tumblr and the amazon preview of “brief history of time” for the past 2 hours

Alexander: HAH

like terence malick?

or am i just making things up

me: what about terence

Alexander: didn’t he do that

and that was like a companion piece to

Tree of Life?

me: probably

i don’t think i’ve seen a single one of his movies

Alexander: hmmmm  


Thin Red Line

is awesome

tree of life made me cry

um days of heaven is great

never saw new world

and badlands is classic

he’s only made 5 or 6 films

in 40 years

and there are not interviews with him


as he’s a recluse

me: haha


Martha Fuckers

Last time we spoke I was at the airport waiting for a plane to Boston where I then met Kedrin and my mother, took the Peter Pan bus 1.5 hours to Wood’s Hole and then a ferry to our final destination of Martha’s Vineyard. I was pretty sure we were headed for some innocent family fun. I mostly packed silk and oversized sweaters. You see, my brother is a full-fledged adult about 14 years my senior with a legitimate/demanding job in the medical field, and I have always admired him for this and other reasons. My mom has always compared the two of us because we have similar attitudes and similar taste in men. I see him about once a year, so I always try to make a solid impression.

When we first got on the island it was child’s play. A lot of “this is this” and “that is that” touring around town, photo-oping and hiding my tattoos. I figured I should try to pretend to be a “respectable adult” (I use that term a lot even though I don’t really know what it means) at least until we popped our first champagne. It was kind of working? I hadn’t seen my mom in a while and she had yet to mention anything about the fact that I have no money or how am I going to survive in New York if I just keep taking unpaid internships or have I been having unprotected sex. Things were going well so far.

My brother (his name is Nathan although everyone was calling him “Nate” in an official capacity, which I at first thought was weird but then attributed to his likely desire to simplify his Starbucks orders, which is originally why I started introducing myself as “Kat”), along with his friends whose names I have already forgotten, took us to the west side of the island to see the sunset. It was sort of unbelievable, partly because I don’t remember the last time I saw the sun set over the ocean, and partly because I hadn’t been outside without smelling feces and rat guts for the past five months. It may as well have been Aruba. Or Bermuda. Or anywhere else they sing about in that Beach Boys song where white girls frequently watch the sunset and then get mysteriously abducted. I realized that my brother and I are both single, which is probably the first time this has happened since he was in the closet and I was five. We both love to drink and talk shit. And we both do this thing pretty frequently:

Which is cool. We also both believe in decadence and overeating, so that night we all went to a seafood restaurant and ordered four tiers of oysters and shrimp cocktail and endless bowls of chowder. Our “unconventional” method of dining made everyone in the restaurant inexplicably angry and confused, and they looked at us as if we had just dived face-first into their personal lobster bisque. Now, understand that the end of September is unanimously believed to be the best time of year in Martha’s Vineyard. Mostly because the weather is perfect and there are no tourists, and they always say you should only eat shellfish in months that have an “r” in them. The restaurant was comparatively uncrowded, so I was told. But in a town like Martha’s Vineyard where the point is kind of to be a tourist, the social makeup in the autumn months is sort of questionable. Everyone is a local (so everyone knows everyone, and yes, they are talking about you right now), everyone works about four months out of the year, and everyone is an alcoholic. But at the same time they’re all decked out in Vineyard Vines (it is entirely possible that the phrase “all decked out” actually originated in Martha’s Vineyard but I could completely be making that up). Also there are a lot of weird gingerbread-looking houses and references to the movie Jaws. It’s pretty much what I imagine Disney World would be like if after all the patrons went home the workers took off their plush costumes and sat around drinking and shucking clams. You’d think it’d be cool, but it’s mostly just strange. It’s the kind of place where your neighbors will openly wonder why your blinds are shut all the time, and then mention it to someone who then mentions it to someone else who will then come to you legitimately concerned. You could try to “do you” in Martha’s Vineyard, but I bet it’d be pretty tough. 

Despite that fact, I have to say that Martha’s Vineyard is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen and I totally get why people love it. I also get why so many political figures have gotten DUIs there, but we’ll get to that.

The next day I did some outdoorsy stuff like swim in a lake and jump off of Jaws Bridge, just so I could be one of those people on facebook who posts a picture of themselves jumping off a bridge where my body is all tiny and everyone’s like “oh cool!” but it doesn’t actually look like a big jump and is not super interesting for anyone who wasn’t there.
I still felt pretty cool. For those of you who don’t know, this is called Jaws Bridge because it, like many other parts of the island, appears in the movie Jaws multiple times. Despite having taken something like 42 credits worth of film classes in college I had never seen more than a few scenes in that movie until that weekend. It’s pretty funny; when you watch the movie after touring the island, you realize most of it was filmed just a few hundred feet off shore.

On Saturday we brought more shrimp cocktail and white wine on the 2-car “ferry” to a cook-out on Chappy (aka Chappaquiddick, a word whose google search yields a wiki page for something known as the “Chappaquiddick Incident” when Ted Kennedy basically drunk-drove his mistress off a bridge, left her for dead and ruined his political career. Saturday night was about to do something similar to my reputation). The cook out (or ‘barbecue’ as I refuse to call it) was made up mostly of well-to-do white people in their late 30s to mid 40s and their well-to-do children. Nestled nicely in the middle of that age gap I became the only person silently chugging wine and eating all the food. To this day I am so ashamed of how much food was left when the sun went down that night. I could have done better.

Later that evening was a fashion show for this thing called “Martha’s Vineyard Fashion Week” which I have a hard time typing without feeling deeply embarrassed for that entire island. Thankfully we missed the show itself and made it just in time to drink 7 cocktails and stomp up and down the empty runway to Rihanna and 2010 disco house. I was doing high-kicks and splits and pirouettes in the corner, swing dancing with Nate and head banging with Kedrin. Family bonding at its finest, but you see how this could get you in trouble on an island of 15,000 people.

Downstairs at the bar, probably one of three places people actually hang out in Martha’s Vineyard, I met this sexy Serbian dude that could barely speak any English, so naturally we hit it off. But that’s when the bullshit started. I walked back to his house where he stayed with a bunch of other Serbians who appeared to be around my age. We were in the middle of casually doing our thing when he told me, in so many words, that he didn’t want to ~go down~ because I had some pubes. Sometimes I like to be really chill about it, dude. What gives? I told him to fuck off and didn’t say anything about him being uncircumcised because I am a lady.

When I got back to the bar my friends and family were gone, and I proceeded to dump my woes on the cute gay bartender. I asked him for a drink which I’m sure I incorrectly assumed was free, when some puny late-thirties guy from Boston started talking to me. I think I said a paragraph or two about my life before he told me I sounded full of myself. Drunk guys regularly get a false sense of intellectual superiority around me and try to Psych 101 me into confessing that deep down I’m really insecure and I’m just looking for a white knight. I told the guy I felt bad that he has such a lack of confidence that he has to project it onto strangers he meets in bars. Then I told him the reason I act like I’m better than him is because I am, threw my jacket over my drink and walked out of the bar. It wasn’t really my night.

Thanks to google maps we now know that when I left the bar I wasn’t more than ten minute walk from my brother’s house. But at the time my phone was dead and I had been drinking since 4 o clock and I wasn’t really sure what I was doing. I think an old man picked me up in his car, took me to his house and I drank his liquor and thought about robbing him before taking off running out his front door and into the woods. I know this sounds fake. It’s not. Martha’s Vineyard is just a super fake place. I spent what must have been the next two hours walking the perimeter of the island looking for familiar surroundings, diving into the bushes every time a truck drove by. I passed the hospital where my brother works on three different occasions. I think I peed in someone’s front yard.

When I got to the bridge for Vineyard Haven, I knew I’d gone too far. I was exhausted. I was fucked. My feet hurt because I was wearing these Keds-style shoes I’d gotten at H&M five years ago and had worn small holes in each sole. I remember laying down on the ground in a patch of dirt on the bank, looking up at the stars and sort of laugh-crying. It didn’t really matter that this was happening. It didn’t really count anyway because I’d be gone by Monday. I was just getting really hungry.

Just then an Aerostar van full of Brazilian teenagers pulled up and offered me a ride. I borrowed one of their cell phones and got directions from my mom (I seriously think it was only about 12:30 at this point). Everyone was yelling at me in Portugese and laughing. I thanked them in the most appropriate fashion I could muster and got out of the van, where I met Nathan’s friends in the kitchen and assisted them in eating something that I know was well outside my dietary restrictions. My mother was wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Kedrin was nowhere to be found. My brother was screaming at everyone from his bed to shut the fuck up, and that we were adults, and that his friends should fucking leave so he could get some sleep. One of them later puked in my mother’s Brooks Brothers flats. It was pretty hilarious.

The next morning Kedrin was still missing and her phone was dead. Should we call the police? “It hasn’t been 24 hours,” Nathan said, “Let’s go to the beach.” This is the kind of guy he is. Efficient, impatient, and mostly right. We went up-island where all the property is owned by the whole of Jewish Hollywood and I got THE best lobster roll I’ve ever had in my life, saw some seriously eroding dunes and drank tons of beer. Nate and I shared stories about our magnetic attraction to dysfunctional men and he told me his secrets on how to become a self-made world-traveling property owner, which I will never reveal to anyone. That afternoon Kedrin took a cab back to the house and slept until her flight back to North Carolina. I never found out what the hell happened to her, but at least she didn’t get Chappaquiddicked.
That night I made myself a vodka cranberry and decided to finally watch Jaws for the first time.

I fell asleep before the end.