No Use Crying Over Spilled Milk

Ok, we were laughing not crying. Well, I was crying–but only because it hurt to laugh as hard as we did.

As you (may or may not) know, I’m a barista and I FUCKING love it. Completely tossed my degree out the window for chocolate covered happiness for the time being. No, I’m serious. I’m always covered in chocolate.

As horrible as today was, all we could do was laugh. K spilled milk every where, twice, we ran out of milk (not because K spilled it though) and I had a screaming match with our chocolate pump. And coincidentally it did scream back, or more like exploded back.

Let me explain.

For several days now, the nozzle on our chocolate jug has been spurting or not spurting at all. It doesn’t just come out like it’s comrades, Caramel, White Chocolate and Pumpkin Spice. Sugar Free Mocha doesn’t come out hardly at all, but no one uses him so no one cares what he does or does not do. No, Dark Chocolate had to rip its little rubber piece and begin to squirt his contents out like a clogged water hose. You know how it comes out two ways, and goes everywhere but where it shouldn’t? Yeah, he’s been doing that for days. But today, Dark Chocolate decided to spurt three ways then cease to spurt at all despite the fact that he had just been refilled. Dark Chocolate also has a tendency to hoard Chocolate around the top half of the jug instead of falling to the bottom like any other chocolate hug would do. I tried to blame the cold weather, but I think he just has an attitude problem.

Dirty words in Klingon were said.

So K and I replaced his pump. Mind you, we forgot the spring so there was no was no spurting for a good twenty minutes while we pondered what we forgot. But once we put the spring in, he began to spurt like normal for all of ten minutes. Yay us.

By this time I had refilled him again so naturally, being the queen of messes (among other things) I was covered in chocolate–again.

Then the mid day rush hits.

We run out of milk. I tell a manager. I get yelled to. So I run away and start giving skinny lattes to everyone. (America could stand to loose an extra pound or two, no?) I’m wearing my trusty N7 pin on my apron–I GOT THIS!

That is until K knocks over our LAST cup of fat free milk and douses my super cute grey suede boots.

This is where the laughing till we cry part happens. I wish I had a picture of K’s sad, sad face as he watched our last cup of milk spread across the tiled floor.

It’s insanely busy. We’re out of milk, I’m covered in chocolate and now fat free milk and K is wearing an inappropriate deer bow tie. (Two deers humping each other under Xmas trees. Icing on the fucking cake right there my friends.)

We switch to half n half. Who doesn’t love extra creamy Hot Chocolates?

My wet hands dive into the espresso bag in a desperate attempt to pull four shots at once. Now there are espresso grinds every where. I spill bits of hot coffee on my fingers. Run out of red sprinkles for our Unicorn Special and make all the little children cry. (Not really.)

Then a steam pitcher jumps from K’s hand, does a nose dive to the floor and douses my boots–yet again–in dairy products.

So much for vegan shoes.

We laugh more. A manager comes over to see what the commotion is about. More laughing happens as K begins to frantically mop up his spilled milk so that B can’t see the seven health code violations behind the counter. (Having spray sanitiser solution on the counter is a violation btw, but were rebels.)

We then spend the next hour sliding through the cafe, entertaining our guests as they order coffee and receive a free comedy show.

Never ever a dull moment at work these days, especially when K and I are on the same shift.

Happy Boxing Day everyone. May next year be calmer.

Jk. If my life was calm I’d be in a coma.




The Cosplay Whip

As some of you may know, I’ve recently begun to cosplay seriously. My next major con is PAX south and the cosplay crunch has begun. What’s worse… the Christmas Crunch has begun as well. I still have my day jobs because I’m a workaholic and am deathly loyal to my companies. Quitting is not an option. I need help.

It’s been a whirlwind since my sewing machine broke, the holiday hours began and not to mention Anita and I are still apartment hunting. One day, ONE DAY, we will find the perfect complex with a bottom floor, two bedroom, two bath suite that is kitty friendly. One day I tell you!

Moving on.

I still have several posts about Fan Days to post, but I haven’t received all the pictures I requested back or permission to feature some people in the post. You know me, miss pre law has to do things the right way. Also, did I mention the Cosplay crunch?

Some changes have been made to the PAX line up since the sewing machine fiasco. It’s stopped picking up the bottom thread, and the top thread tangles up and it’s just one big mess. I have one more place to take it for repairs before I toss it and invest in a new one. Who needs finger tips anyways? #handsewing

One thing I did want to talk about was why I began cosplaying. I guess I’ve always been doing it to a point. I was in Theater in both middle and high school working on sets and in the costume department. I learned makeup techniques and how to sew 30 BUSTLES IN ONE WEEK. Lots of blood and tears went into Tom

Jones, let me tell you. I was that kid in the Ewok suit with a stuffed Ton-Ton at every Star Wars premier, I was alive for, my Halloween costumes were always pop culture related and I lived in my pink power ranger suit for three years. But once I got to high school and people began to tease me for it, I let that part of my life slip away. Until I got to college that is. Being an adult means no one can tell you not to spend your entire pay check on con tickets or a Wookiee onesie. And being a college student means certainly no one will judge you for wearing said onesie to study sessions in the library.

I’ve had some set backs with my RA and Lupus recently that resulted in me being unable to work for two months, and during those two months Anita refused to let me sit around.

I found that crafting helped me keep my mind focused but was also relaxing and even helped keep my hands limber and loose. Sometimes is extremely hard, but that feeling when you finish something–even if it’s not what you imagined–is a great feeling.

I modelled some costumes for a few friends, reconnected with my old Theater teacher and even helped my sisters Theater group make some last minute costumes for a production. The more time I spent doing something I loved and seeing how positively people reacted to my work was exhilarating. It made me realise that I had been compromising for the last two years, picking a profession I was good at and that paid well, but wasn’t exciting enough for me.

Cosplay can (and will) take me back to the UK, back to my home town for a con and even to Japan and Bangkok to see Mulan! (Remember my friends who picked princess code names? Well M went home last summer and invited me to her home for a week! There’s an anime gathering in the area around the same time too! (Anyone wanna teach me Thai?) If it happens at all.

I’ve made so many new friends in just the last few months that I know will be long lasting friendships for life! I’m planning on doing a group cosplay with three other cosplayers next year for Akon (keep your fingers crossed) and even flying back to London for a Doctor Who gathering! None of this would have been possible if I didn’t believe in my self, my skills and commit to something I loved. I love to talk to people, make friends, make costumes and travel.

I’ve even received offers for game sponsorships on my twitch page (which has three followers at the moment) from some friends I made at a RPG shop. I’m even the official DM for a D&D campaign that meets in my cafe.

All the things I got teased in high school for loving are going to take me everywhere I’ve ever wanted to go. It’s going to be hard, it’s going to be painful, but I’m in for the long haul.

Since making this decision even my doctors have noticed I’m different. They were able to cut back on my methotrexate (which was making me incredibly nauseous and I was loosing too much weight) and I’m happy to say I’m stable and eating two squares a day. I tend to skip breakfast (mostly because I over sleep) but being able to keep my family’s cooking down for the holidays will certainly be a good thing, no?

I’ve rattled on long enough. I just wanted you all to know I’m the opposite of dead. I am very much alive and even though I spend a lot of time crying, I’m sleep deprived and over caffeinated (I’m a barista, what do you expect?), I’m happy, stable and on the road to healthy. Even made a friend who’s a physical trainer and he designed me a bar workout regimen to get my abs back and maybe even get me dancing again!

The morale of this story is: do. what you love. Make friends and make it happen for yourself. You deserve to be happy. Having a chronic illness doesn’t make you any less of a person, in fact I believe this makes you more of a person. You are a warrior. Fight for yourself. And fight for your life.

As always



The Flare Up Blues

So, I’ve been absent–but I’ve always been spotty about blogging. Seriously, I’m the worst blogger ever. And I own it. 

But it’s been different lately, and not in a good way. For a while I was happy, in a good mood, not in too much pain, I even went back to work! But I’ve been having this month long flare and it just keeps getting worse. I don’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t even game. I’ve been at work sitting in pain or at home lying in pain. 

I’m not one to complain but I’m scared and confused. First off, I don’t know when I should call a doctor, I don’t even know which doctor to go to! Internist? Rheumatologist? Physical Therapist? Neurologist? I have so many and I don’t even know if they can help me.  I’ve been dying to go back on infusions but I don’t wanna be dependent on them. I’ve been exircising, walking, stretching, going to pool therapy and water aerobics (in moderation of course) but it’s not getting any better. We even doubled all my meds and nothing. If anything it’s worse. 

I’m still in a good mood of course, that’s in my nature when I’m around friends and family but I’m tired.

I’m well aware this is common and a million Spoonie’s every where deal with this… but it’s fucking hard! I’ve put a hold on everything for now because I just can’t do it. I still have to work so it’s gonna be a long couple of weeks. Plus with the hurricane bringing rain in I doubt I’ll have any relief. Had to have help getting dressed this morning. It’s a big kick in the but when you have trouble doing even the littlest things. 

I’ll be ok. I’m always ok. I always have a smile and I’ll never give up. Just promise me you’ll never give up, ok? Well fight for us together. (That was totally a Skillet quote.) 

I love you all 



When Did I Grow Up? 

My youngest sister prank called me today. And it wasn’t anything major she just kept saying “I love you!” 

But she didn’t sound the same on the phone and I was at work so I kept asking for a name. When she finally told me who she was I told her prank calls weren’t cool. 

How lame could I be? 

It wasn’t that long ago that I was in HS and making prank calls with C at 11 at night. We had one lady going for hours about how we were two British sisters in the states for school but we were trying to phone home for our Aunt Petunia. To this day I will never know if she caught on and played along or if we really had convinced her. 

It didn’t take me long to figure out who was calling me and why–but I still asked her if she needed anything because I am that lame. I could have played along–I used to when I was in college. People would prank call me and I’d put on an accent and run circles around them. 

Now I’m asking myself: when the hell did I become an adult? 

I’m not an adult. I suck at adulting. I’m really just this lucky 23 year old who’s running around the states bumping into people, making friends and getting herself into precarious and sometimes amazing situations. I can’t even remember how old I am sometimes. Seriously, someone asked me my age last week and I literally had to do the math…on my phone… Also, I forget that I can go into the liquor store and buy my own liquor. I’m constantly trying to con my older friends to buy me stuff and they’re always like “Kat, your 23. Go buy it yourself!” And when I do, I still feel like I’m breaking the law or something. 

I’m pretty hopeless as an adult. I just tell myself I know what I’m doing. But I don’t. Anita and I have a plan, and so far it’s working but there’s still plenty of time for the Dallas ship to capsize and leave us in the dusty East Texas waters. 

But seriously. Where do you draw the line between bumbling college kid to responsible adult? Now that I think about it, even with all this chronic illness crap I’m still pretty independent. But I’ve always been that way so I don’t think that makes me anymore or less an adult than I was in high school. 

Just yesterday I was talking with a girl I went to HS with and it’s been over five years since we graduated! Where the frack did the time go!?  I ran into her while I was taking care of adultish things in my home town. I look so different now I’m surprised she even recognised me. I’ve seen loads of people I knew in HS and they never recognise me untill I tell them my name. Now some of these people were ugly as all get out to me in those days. But Ash wasn’t like that. And towards the end of senior year I’m pretty sure I was the borderline bully as I was so fed up with how those people treated me. 

But it’s all water under the bridge now. I probably won’t go to my reunion, or maybe I will, but I still can’t believe how time flies.  

Maybe there’s isn’t a definite point in your life that you cross that defines you as an adult. 

I can be a fully functioning adult who plays a lot of video games, cosplays and has cool toys right? Ok. Well it’s what I’m telling myself.

Have a good weekend my loves 



In a Cookie Cutter World, I’d be a Macaroon…

So. Queenie and I attempted to make macaroons…again. This time it actually worked out (if you over look the fact our macaroons weren’t the color they were supposed to be).

Ever since I spent time in London I have been dying to learn to make macaroons for myself because I live in the middle of no-where and trying to find good non-frozen macaroons in East Texas is like trying to find a rock star at a rodeo. It’s possible, but highly unlikely. I love, love, love macaroons. They’re not just a cookie; their colorful pieces of art–not just a cookie being extra. Each macaroon seems to have it’s own personality and flavor! I tried so many in London, I’m pretty sure I had macaroons almost every day I was there!

Living in Phoenix, I could order them from the bakery down the road from my villa, but out here, most people don’t even know what a macaroon is. And I say most because the bakers in my area know what they are but don’t know how to bake them. And even if they did, they still wouldn’t because no one around here eats them. But in Dallas I hear there’s a bakery that makes them from scratch, by hand everyday and the left overs get taken to the shelters and food kitchens. It may be just a rumor, but I intend to investigate every tea room and bakery I can find regardless.

As for baking them myself….

Our first attempt at French Macaroons ended with a kitchen covered in almond flower, a batch of hopeless crumbling cookie feet and two very sad small town, rookie bakers. This time, however we did our research, bought better ingredients and learned from our mistakes.

I knew the basics, like what it meant to have egg whites hold a peak and what the feet needed to look like. But I didn’t know what to do when the feet stuck to the wax paper, or that you’re supposed to drop the cookie sheet so the air bubbles move to the top. There’s all of these baking secrets that no one tells you so when your faced with the traumatizing issue of your beautiful double chocolate macaroon feet sticking to the wax paper you frantically toss them in the freezer hoping they’ll magically pop off like their supposed to.

Reality check: I have never gotten anything to not stick to the cookie sheet, wax paper or glass dish. Fortunately, this is the 21st century and we have google.

I’ll link the recipe we followed down below with the pictures I took of our adventure.

This time we opted for Italian Macaroons and not French Macaroons because the recipe was said to be fool proof. I read so many cooking/baking blogs that said it took them years to perfect the French Method. Well, I don’t have years. Anita and I move in less than a month and I need to have the macaroon recipe perfected for our Sunday Brunch/High tea dates out on the balcony.

We have it all planned out, I even picked out a bistro table!

Any ways, tip for making macaroons: pay attention to what side of the wax paper you put them on, buy a rubber template, and invest in gel food coloring if your not using the natural color. We wanted our vanilla macaroons to be purple so we mixed red and blue… some of the batches turned out to be an ugly grey color and we were sad. Also, if you’re a spoonie like me–get a mixer. All the hand beating and folding brought me to tears and Queenie had to take over because my hands were hurting so bad.

Also, even with all of our preparing, the feet still stuck to the wax paper. Here’s what we did:

We took the wax sheet with the feet on top and placed the sheet in warm water. We used a separate cookie sheet with warm water covering the bottom of the pan.

And for god sake whatever you do, DO NOT LET THE MACAROONS GET WET.

It’s not that hard to set the wax sheet ON TOP of the water, or at least it shouldn’t be. We however had tried to pry a few off with a spatula, so there were holes in the wax paper.*le sigh*

Once the paper sat there for a few minuets the feet popped off like they were supposed to! It was like magic! Only it wasn’t… it was an accumulation of college ingenuity and a lot of frantic googling.

We will be experimenting with flavors now that we have the basic recipe down. We made vanilla macaroons with a chocolate ganache (google that if you don’t know what it is) and they were AMAZING. Enjoy the pictures below of our Macaroon adventure part 2.

The Recipe:

Have a wonderful week WildeKats!



Courage, Water Aerobics and Victory Treats 

So, it’s been a minute. But I’ve had a lot on my mind and a lot to do so blogging hasn’t been something I could focus on lately. I’ve been apartment hunting with Anita, working, and trying out some new pain management routines. 

I’ve sort of hit rock bottom when it comes to RA. I’m not on any pain meds for RA or fibro and my entire body is just so exhausted and in pain no matter what I do. I’ve been trying to walk, stretch, do yoga at home and just be active but my legs and hips are just like… nope. My back has always been a problem so I’m used to it but when everything hurts all at once it just flat out sucks. 

I had a very exciting week though. Anita and I may have found an apartment, I house sat my friends kitties, went to a conference for work and then journied to see Queenie so that we could attempt Macaroons once more. It is my goal to have tea parties with Anita on Sundays and Macaroons are a MUST for tea parties. They didn’t turn out quite like we had hoped but they’re way better than our first attempt. 

I’ll be posting a blog post about that next week. 

But today I just wanted to brag on myself a little. I finally got up and out to the Life Center and signed up for the water aerobics classes! It’s only 5 dollars a class and I don’t have to pay for the gym membership! I’m super happy about that.

 I’ve been having some anxiety because my pain levels have sky rocketed in the last few weeks and I can’t commit to a gym membership because I can’t work out every week. Even if I could, using gym machines is painful. I’ve tried. Yoga is hard enough. My doctor says water aerobics is a good alternative and it’s soothing for joints and muscles. So hopefully this will be a good step for me. I’m also looking into massage therapy for my back and shoulders. 

I also have anxiety about going into new places because I always get lost and don’t know anyone or where anything is. So this being a gym plus a new place really freaked me out. But I managed and I’m very proud of myself! I’m not ashamed of my anxiety because when I pluck up the courage to do something that makes me anxious I always feel very…powerful afterwords. Overcoming a fear or anxiety no matter how small is a big thing for anyone. 

It’s important to recognise even the smallest of triumphs especially when living with a chronic illness. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been called lazy or been given a weird look when I get excited about getting out of bed on time, wearing a bra for a full eight hour work day, or not passing out in the shower(or on a walk). But these are big things for spoonies, so I always smile and pat myself on the back when I accomplish anything. It’s all part of my self care routine. Sometimes I have to bribe myself, but I try extra hard to not push myself or be to hard on myself. This morning I told myself I could have one of my Almond Milk protein boxes as a treat if I got up and filled out the paper work at the Life Center. Last week I bough powdered donuts because I successfully cleaned my whole apartment instead of playing video games. Spoonies gotta do what a Spoonie’s gotta do. Bribery works, sometimes…. 

As Anita and I move I’ll have to find new doctors and facilities, but knowing that I’ve overcome the fear once helps me overcome it again. I actually have to break the news to my rheumatologist in two weeks–that will definitely be blog post worthy. 

Enjoy your weekend WileKats! Be spontaneous, be safe and most of all be Wild! 



Conversations with Video Game Characters Part 1 

So, I restarted the ME trilogy, you know, for kicks and giggles. I’m playing as a real paragon this time and everything–no more kicking mercs out the window for this Shepard–at least for now. 

Aside from the non stop working and apartment hunting, playing ME has been very therapeutic. Except for the part where I decided to play on insanity because I needed the challenge. I usually play on Veteran or Hardcore. But no, I kicked it up a notch and it took me an hour to get through the collector ship trap thing and since I’m a paragon I couldn’t tell the Illusive man how I really felt. But for the first time ever in all my playthroughs I kept both Miranda’s and Jack’s loyalty so there really is an upside to the chaos. 

Last night, during the adventure on the collector ship, I decided to take Grunt out of timeout. He had been very ugly on Illium but I needed a tank so naturally the Krogan was my first choice. And as usual he kept popping off morbid comments, here’s how the conversation went. Keep in mind this is a video game and he can’t hear me. 

We get off the shuttle and Grunt says: I’ve never seen ship like this before. 

Well no shit, you’re a tank grown baby Krogan. I’ve never seen a ship like this and I’m a seasoned N7 operative and a spectre. But I of course kept my mouth shut. 

Garrus: Looks like a giant hive, rachni maybe? 

EDI proceeds to tell us some techy information on the ships parameters and signature. Then tells us it’s the same ship that we saw on Horiozon. 

Shepard: Maybe the defence towers softened it for the Turians. 

Grunt: Maybe the missing humans are here, or maybe their dead. 

Me: Shut up Grunt, remember what we talked about? 

We find a damaged collector pod. 

Garrus: This is what the collectors used on Horizon, but these are empty. 

Grunt: *with a bit of smug glee* small, like my pod. I bet they begged for mercy. 

I glare, but keep myself from saying anything as we press on to find a pile of bodies. 

Garrus: this looks bad. 

Me: really? I had no idea. 

Grunt: That’s a lot of dead meat. 

Me: That’s is! Back to the ship! Do you know what happens to pre right of passage tank grown Krogans who disobey their space moms and pop of morbid comments like that? They go to the naughty corner. EDI send me someone else!

Of course you can’t do that right now so I mumble some choice words and tell Grunt he’s headed for the naughty corner when we get back. 

Some things were said about using the bodies for testing and how these ones obviously didn’t pass. We continue into a bigger area filled with pods. 

Garrus: They could take every human in the galaxy and still not have enough to fill these pods. 

Me:that’s a cheery thought. Thank you for that, Archangel: bringer of justice. What a lovely sentiment. 

The rest of our journey went a bit like this. Me, being horribly sassy when my companions make comments or do stupid things. Garrus died like a million times, Grunt kept walking in front of my shots and my game glitched and I got stuck ontop of some box thing. Needless to say I knocked the difficulty down to hard core for a bit after I kept dying. 

Last night was anything it therapeutic but it was funny to say the least. 

Yep. Don’t worry, Anita is worse.