Teribl Txtr

We're announcing a program for katclothing.com clients where they can sign up to receive information about sales, new items, etc., via text.

This is laughable to me because I am a terrible texter. I mean, teribl txtr. I don't excel at this techno art for a few reasons.

First, I have two-ton thumbs. Seriously, my thumbs are enormous. They don't make the numbers on a phone or crackberry big enough for these whoppers. I wear a size 14 shoe. What's the likelihood of me having dainty hands?

Next, I'm s-l-o-w. I have friends who can text all of "War and Peace" before I can get through, "c u soon."

Finally, and I know this is nerdy, but the whole text vernacular and lingo doesn't jive with me. It's okay to spell words wrong. Punctuation is an after-thought. And, sentences don't require a subject and a verb.

If we find a misspelling on katclothing.com, it literally haunts me for days. The thought of doing it intentionally makes me bristle. And, I happen to like punctuation!!!!!!

I was a little resistant to IM when it was introduced and now I love it. So, I expect my attitude about texting will change, too. Just know if you send me a text, it make take a while to get a response from Two-Ton.

Xhausted with XM Again

I've expressed my disdain for XM Radio in a previous blog so I won't bore you with the drama again.

Bottom-line: After months of trying to get the darn service to work, we finally terminated our dysfunctional relationship with XM. XM and Kat broke up. For good. For ever.

Today, I was greeted by a promotional email in my in-box from XM. Hooray! It was like that long-lost boyfriend you never want to hear from.

I promptly went to the bottom of the screen so I could opt-out of future love notes of the sort. To my surprise, there was no way to opt out, but there was this special message:

"Please note that you may receive service email in accordance with your XM Satellite Radio Customer Agreement, whether or not you elect to receive promotional email."

What? So even if I've indicated I never, ever want to hear from you again, (and I have) they're still going to email me?

Dear XM: Your homework tonight is to research the meaning of the word SPAM. And, I don't mean the canned meat.

I wish you could see the face I'm making at the computer right now.

A Sucker for Seersucker

Seersucker is one of those great summer fabrics that keeps you cool while looking great. And, while I love wearing seersucker, it also reminds me of one of my most embarrassing moments.

Two years ago, my niece Grace was baptized. And, as her godmother, (I know, fancy title!) I was asked to stand at the front of the church as the priest did his thing. Knowing I would be "on stage" of sorts, I decided a new outfit was justified.

Grace was baptized in May so it seemed the perfect time to buy a seersucker suit. I found a pink and white one that I paired with white heels. On the morning of the baptism, I put on my fancy new outfit and prepared to strut. This was going to be one stylish baptism.

This is the part of the story where my brother, Grace's dad, starts yelling. Some might say I was a little bit late to the ceremony. Let's just say that I walked in as the priest was walking down the aisle to start the mass...and I was supposed to be walking with him. My bro was not happy with me. (Did he not see my seersucker suit?)

Anyhow, the mass goes on without a hitch. We join my family for a reception afterward and then head home. Since I'd only worn the suit a few hours, I decided to hang it up and wear it the next day to work. As I'm changing my clothes, I realize it's a bit drafty in my pants. Imagine my horror when I realized I'd split my pants at some point during the ceremony.

Split my pants. And, I'm not talking by an inch. Let's just say I had the full smile. I SO owe the person behind me in church an apology. They're probably still paying that therapy bill.

Sigh. Hair flip. I know, not everyone can be as cool as me.