So I slipped in that PBA was coming to town a few posts back.
Well he gets here today.
So PBA is the man who has a reputation for suggesting sex and then failing to follow through. And I had totally sworn him off for good but as always he's found a way to waltz back into my life...
...it usually occurs when I'm drunk and horny and have access to Skype... might be time to set a new drunk-proof password.
Anyways so we've been sometimes talking lately and the other day we were just talking about mundane things and he slips in that he's coming to NYC on business next week (which is now this week) and that we should meet up and have some casual stress relief sex.
Just that like that.
Slips it in between his flight plans and what he had for lunch.
Just a little casual stress relief sex. No big deal.
So I'm like... okay. Sure. And I start to think about how it wouldn't be so bad to have a little quality human interaction this week. Even if he has been a D-bag in the past.
So after we agree that at some point we're going to meet up and have sex suddenly he starts pulling those promises back in again... The excuses start pouring out of his mouth.
"But I do have to go to Boston one of those days so it's not like I can be there every day..."
"I have to see my business partner too you know, I'm not just free all the time"
"This is a business trip not a social one"
"I'd like to actually see New York as well you know"
I'm like... slow the fuck down. I'm not some rapist who carries around sheets pre-moistened with chloroform to knock out her victims and take advantage of them. I'm not going to chain you down and refuse to let you leave. In fact I'm not even going to call you. Because past experience has shown me that you're the kind of man who wants what he can't have and as soon as I'm all "omg I want you!" you're gonna be like "meh no thanks"
Don't bring up sex and then immediately back pedal. I don't need your excuses, I don't need your dick (though it would be nice) and I don't need you to look out for my feelings. I get that you don't want to sleep over and make me breakfast and be my boyfriend.
Newsflash: I never wanted that from you either.
So while I still do hope that I'm getting laid this week I will be completely unfazed and unshocked if PBA decides to crawl into a hole and not bother calling me. He may think that it makes him sexy to be so unavailable but it's really just annoying. And he may think he has the power in this relationship but hey... if he's a disappointment then I'll just throw on my Fuck-Me dress and go to a bar and find a real man to make me happy.
Sorry PBA, I'd love to play but you are not the be-all or end-all. There are plenty of people on sexcations looking for some sexcapades with a girl like me. So enjoy your business... Maybe I'll hear from you, maybe I won't. Either way I'm still going to have an awesome week.
xxKK
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
THE PLOT IS HATCHED
So let me tell you a little something about MugWug...
For man who completely objectifies women (while hiding behind his holier-than-thou Jesus loving bullshit religion crap) he does not understand that women are not just there to be used but also have needs.
Sexual needs.
As in, orgasms.
Yes, I am saying that people NEED orgasms in their lives.
And just because I haven't had sex in a *ahem* loooooong time doesn't mean I'm not fully making my quota. I do not discriminate between the orgasm a man can give me and an orgasm gained through electric means.
Or in my case... battery powered.
Meet Senior Margarita.
He's my vibrator. He's pretty amazing. He never leaves the seat up or asks me to pay for dinner. He never forgets to return my phone calls yet he's never overbearing or needy. He doesn't snore or roll onto me in the middle of the night. He never forgets to clean up after himself and he only cares about what I want...
So pretty much he's better than any man.
MugWug is extremely uncomfortable with the idea of a woman having sex with the sole goal being an orgasm (he believes that is just for men... women should be sweet and innocent and want love and babies) So the idea of a woman buying hardware to please herself is just such a foreign idea...
It freaks him the fuck out.
He can talk for hours about how gross it is or how immoral or how, whatever negative word you want to pick, it is.
So when I told him that I recently acquired a battery powered love device he had a conniption fit and started to gag.
So tonight when he gets home from his lady friends house (lady friend being the girl he's wanted to have sex with since freshman year, not his actual girlfriend [and yes he has a girlfriend]) I plan on getting Senior Margarita out and totally going at it.
Now I doubt he'll be able to tell since I have my own room with a permanently locked door and Senior Margarita is extremely quiet and discrete but it will be happening regardless and the emotional toll it will take on him when one day I slip into conversation that I've been getting off 20 feet away from where he sleeps while he's been home with a rubber battery powered cock... well that will just be so rewarding.
I'm really not even sure what well get me off faster tonight... Senior Margarita or the taste of revenge.
Never cross Kitty... she has sharp claws.
Sorry MugWug... maybe if you were a smidge [read: at all] respectful to me or a semi decent roommate I wouldn't be plotting such cruel and graphic revenge.
Uh oh...I hear the front door opening. Time to get out the spare batteries.
xxKK
For man who completely objectifies women (while hiding behind his holier-than-thou Jesus loving bullshit religion crap) he does not understand that women are not just there to be used but also have needs.
Sexual needs.
As in, orgasms.
Yes, I am saying that people NEED orgasms in their lives.
And just because I haven't had sex in a *ahem* loooooong time doesn't mean I'm not fully making my quota. I do not discriminate between the orgasm a man can give me and an orgasm gained through electric means.
Or in my case... battery powered.
Meet Senior Margarita.
He's my vibrator. He's pretty amazing. He never leaves the seat up or asks me to pay for dinner. He never forgets to return my phone calls yet he's never overbearing or needy. He doesn't snore or roll onto me in the middle of the night. He never forgets to clean up after himself and he only cares about what I want...
So pretty much he's better than any man.
MugWug is extremely uncomfortable with the idea of a woman having sex with the sole goal being an orgasm (he believes that is just for men... women should be sweet and innocent and want love and babies) So the idea of a woman buying hardware to please herself is just such a foreign idea...
It freaks him the fuck out.
He can talk for hours about how gross it is or how immoral or how, whatever negative word you want to pick, it is.
So when I told him that I recently acquired a battery powered love device he had a conniption fit and started to gag.
So tonight when he gets home from his lady friends house (lady friend being the girl he's wanted to have sex with since freshman year, not his actual girlfriend [and yes he has a girlfriend]) I plan on getting Senior Margarita out and totally going at it.
Now I doubt he'll be able to tell since I have my own room with a permanently locked door and Senior Margarita is extremely quiet and discrete but it will be happening regardless and the emotional toll it will take on him when one day I slip into conversation that I've been getting off 20 feet away from where he sleeps while he's been home with a rubber battery powered cock... well that will just be so rewarding.
I'm really not even sure what well get me off faster tonight... Senior Margarita or the taste of revenge.
Never cross Kitty... she has sharp claws.
Sorry MugWug... maybe if you were a smidge [read: at all] respectful to me or a semi decent roommate I wouldn't be plotting such cruel and graphic revenge.
Uh oh...I hear the front door opening. Time to get out the spare batteries.
xxKK
Saturday, June 4, 2011
KITTY IS SAD/FRUSTRATED/PISSED THE FUCK OFF
And it's probably mostly my own fault.
I take on too many things sometimes.
I inflict myself with so much stress that it's a surprise that my blood pressure isn't higher (but it is already pretty high)
MugWug continues to reek havoc on my life.
Like yesterday when I left for the gym and told him I'd be back in an hour and a half and when I got back, an hour and a half later, he had decided to JUST get into the shower. Where he stayed for 40 minutes.
First of all, I don't take 40 minute showers and I have long hair to my ass.
Secondly, he's a gross boy creature... how can he care THAT much about getting clean
and Most Importantly... I NEEDED A SHOWER AFTER THE GYM. YOU KNOW I'M COMING HOME. It's not like I surprised you... I gave you a concrete timeline...
It's just frustrating.
And then today he drops the news on me that he hates all of my other friends (which is funny since a) he doesn't know most of my friends because he refuses to hang out with them and b) he's tried to get in the pants of 90% of the friends he has met)
And his friend hates me.
And that makes me seriously questions how much friend is left in our friendship. If we pick our friends because we have something in common with them/we relate to them/ we have fun with them then what does it say that he hates the people I choose to surround myself with?
It means he can't really like me all that much either...
And I've only met the friend who "hates me" twice before so if he has a negative impression of me it has to come from what MugWug has been saying...
Makes me really wonder about how my new roomie really feels about me.
In other news unrelated to MugWug but related to my misery my internet and cable have been out for 36 hours now which means that not only can I not distract myself with bad reality TV or Xbox Live but I have to travel to Starbucks (where I get hit on by the only man in the world who seems to want me - the creepy barrista) or all the way downtown to my school... even though I'm graduated.
Which is where I am now. It's 9:30pm and I'm sitting in the lobby of my ex-university alone in Summer. My life has reached an all time low. But I've been here working since 4pm so I think it might be time to pack it in and go home.... even if my roommate is there waiting....
So before the building guards start audibly judging me I'm going to go... I'll have to update you on PBA and Ninja another time.
xxKK
I take on too many things sometimes.
I inflict myself with so much stress that it's a surprise that my blood pressure isn't higher (but it is already pretty high)
MugWug continues to reek havoc on my life.
Like yesterday when I left for the gym and told him I'd be back in an hour and a half and when I got back, an hour and a half later, he had decided to JUST get into the shower. Where he stayed for 40 minutes.
First of all, I don't take 40 minute showers and I have long hair to my ass.
Secondly, he's a gross boy creature... how can he care THAT much about getting clean
and Most Importantly... I NEEDED A SHOWER AFTER THE GYM. YOU KNOW I'M COMING HOME. It's not like I surprised you... I gave you a concrete timeline...
It's just frustrating.
And then today he drops the news on me that he hates all of my other friends (which is funny since a) he doesn't know most of my friends because he refuses to hang out with them and b) he's tried to get in the pants of 90% of the friends he has met)
And his friend hates me.
And that makes me seriously questions how much friend is left in our friendship. If we pick our friends because we have something in common with them/we relate to them/ we have fun with them then what does it say that he hates the people I choose to surround myself with?
It means he can't really like me all that much either...
And I've only met the friend who "hates me" twice before so if he has a negative impression of me it has to come from what MugWug has been saying...
Makes me really wonder about how my new roomie really feels about me.
In other news unrelated to MugWug but related to my misery my internet and cable have been out for 36 hours now which means that not only can I not distract myself with bad reality TV or Xbox Live but I have to travel to Starbucks (where I get hit on by the only man in the world who seems to want me - the creepy barrista) or all the way downtown to my school... even though I'm graduated.
Which is where I am now. It's 9:30pm and I'm sitting in the lobby of my ex-university alone in Summer. My life has reached an all time low. But I've been here working since 4pm so I think it might be time to pack it in and go home.... even if my roommate is there waiting....
So before the building guards start audibly judging me I'm going to go... I'll have to update you on PBA and Ninja another time.
xxKK
Friday, June 3, 2011
WARNING: DOES NOT PLAY WELL WITH OTHERS
So you all know MugWug under one fairly generic title: Best Friend.
Well he's about to get a new one... "Roommate"
Yeah... he moved in with me...
Now before anyone jumps to any conclusions, no, it's nothing past roommates. He sleeps in a nook in the living room and I lock my door every night. (Out of habit not because I'm worried he's going to break in and read my diary or anything scandalous)
He's only planning on staying a month or so and I do love hosting people. I am such a Mama Kat sometimes.
But here's the catch: despite loving to host and my inexplicable (and apparently unconditional) love for the kid, I DO NOT PLAY WELL WITH OTHERS.
As in I like my space and routine and order.
Rearranging the living room to make room for his nook was emotionally scarring for me since I don't like change.
Here's an example of how neurotic I am about change... I will refuse to walk down a street, even if the sign says walk and that's the fastest route, if it isn't one of the two streets I use to get to the subway. And there are certain streets I'll only walk west on. And I always catch the subway car that stops in front of the broken telephone at 49th Street. And I arrange my couch cushions, not in an aestically pleasing pattern or format, but by color. I don't like trying new food. I will literally be reduced to tears of frustration if faced with a menu that doesn't contain something that I know I like.
I'm not very good at decisions so it's easier for me to just cut out the options.
Well... that being said... he moved in and now everything has changed.
He switches the shower from handheld to stationary every time he uses it (I'm short and the hand held is lower and has better water pressure) He uses an electric toothbrush which means there's this machine contraption on the sink, which is so not the neat empty way I like my sink. AND he refuses to hang his towel on the hook on the door, choosing instead to drape it over the shower, which doesn't even make logical sense since it dries quicker on the hook and it means I don't have to move it every time I want to shower.
AND THAT'S JUST THE BATHROOM.
Needless to say I have a lot to get used to and it's very jarring.
Tomorrow we're putting up a curtain around his nook so that at least the change and mess and differences from my real life and now can be contained and somewhat hidden.
I have to admit that sometimes it's nice to have him around. Tonight we had a nice little roommate moment in the kitchen. We made snacks and talked.
I feel like he and I stopped really talking to each other a long time ago so maybe this move is what our friendship needs to continue past college.
That, or it'll completely destroy it.
Meanwhile I'm going to use all this awkward nervous energy I have from having my schedule/routine change so drastically towards getting up early and hitting the gym every morning. Hopefully my legs won't fall off before I run out the uncomfortable feelings.
Regardless I'm going to need a few drugs to get through the next month.
I'm sleepy and have work to do so I'll sign off but I still have to update y'all on PBA and Ninja so don't let me forget. And hey, look at that, two posts in two nights. Maybe there's hope for this blog after all.
xxKK
Well he's about to get a new one... "Roommate"
Yeah... he moved in with me...
Now before anyone jumps to any conclusions, no, it's nothing past roommates. He sleeps in a nook in the living room and I lock my door every night. (Out of habit not because I'm worried he's going to break in and read my diary or anything scandalous)
He's only planning on staying a month or so and I do love hosting people. I am such a Mama Kat sometimes.
But here's the catch: despite loving to host and my inexplicable (and apparently unconditional) love for the kid, I DO NOT PLAY WELL WITH OTHERS.
As in I like my space and routine and order.
Rearranging the living room to make room for his nook was emotionally scarring for me since I don't like change.
Here's an example of how neurotic I am about change... I will refuse to walk down a street, even if the sign says walk and that's the fastest route, if it isn't one of the two streets I use to get to the subway. And there are certain streets I'll only walk west on. And I always catch the subway car that stops in front of the broken telephone at 49th Street. And I arrange my couch cushions, not in an aestically pleasing pattern or format, but by color. I don't like trying new food. I will literally be reduced to tears of frustration if faced with a menu that doesn't contain something that I know I like.
I'm not very good at decisions so it's easier for me to just cut out the options.
Well... that being said... he moved in and now everything has changed.
He switches the shower from handheld to stationary every time he uses it (I'm short and the hand held is lower and has better water pressure) He uses an electric toothbrush which means there's this machine contraption on the sink, which is so not the neat empty way I like my sink. AND he refuses to hang his towel on the hook on the door, choosing instead to drape it over the shower, which doesn't even make logical sense since it dries quicker on the hook and it means I don't have to move it every time I want to shower.
AND THAT'S JUST THE BATHROOM.
Needless to say I have a lot to get used to and it's very jarring.
Tomorrow we're putting up a curtain around his nook so that at least the change and mess and differences from my real life and now can be contained and somewhat hidden.
I have to admit that sometimes it's nice to have him around. Tonight we had a nice little roommate moment in the kitchen. We made snacks and talked.
I feel like he and I stopped really talking to each other a long time ago so maybe this move is what our friendship needs to continue past college.
That, or it'll completely destroy it.
Meanwhile I'm going to use all this awkward nervous energy I have from having my schedule/routine change so drastically towards getting up early and hitting the gym every morning. Hopefully my legs won't fall off before I run out the uncomfortable feelings.
Regardless I'm going to need a few drugs to get through the next month.
I'm sleepy and have work to do so I'll sign off but I still have to update y'all on PBA and Ninja so don't let me forget. And hey, look at that, two posts in two nights. Maybe there's hope for this blog after all.
xxKK
Thursday, June 2, 2011
HOLY FUCK IT'S JUNE...
And it's fucking hot.
I don't know where the rest of you kids are but I'm in the big apple and it's mother fucking melting over here.
I can't believe it's June already. So much has happened and I havent had a single moment to sit down and compose it into one cohesive train of thought.
School is done. I graduated. No more homework or 8am lectures. Which is nice. But also sad.
Working on becoming a US citizen now.
Been getting into the usual drunken trouble.
Fleetweek just passed which was supposed to bring the glory of many a good lay but unfortunately Mama Nature has been after me ever since I accidentally murdered all of the lillies in my neighbors yard (I was 9) so I had an unwelcome guest in the form of my freaking period during the majority of Fleetweek. I still went out and winged for my girlies NP and shiv but it was sad not to hook a sailor. On the last night I was finally finished surfing the red sea and I nabbed the hottest little seafarer at a dark bar. After beerpong and ass grabbing I was sure we were headed to my apartment (conveniently located a block from his ship) but thats about the time the excuses started pouring out of his mouth. He couldn't leave the bar, he only had 40 minutes left, the other marines might worry. Clearly his only solution was to propose bathroom sex.
Excuse me?
Bathroom sex?
No.
I am not a five buck fuck in the back of a strip club.
When he wouldn't let go of this idea I mentioned that we didn't have the proper equipment (read: condoms) but instead of leaving the bar to go to my house where I have a stockpile of 9 (don't judge me, I'm just prepared) he decided to go to Duane Reade and buy a pack to bring back for bathroom sex. Despite the fact that the time he would spend in line would take three times as long as walking to my house.
Anyways.... Mikey the sailor was hot but as soon as he left me at the bar to buy condoms I downed my drink and left.
Dear Mike, if you read this, you are a smoking hott catch of a man and I'm sure that your tragic flaw is that you are painfully aware of this fact. Despite you being hott and me being ridiculously in need for a good bang I do have standards and they include not fucking where people regularly piss. Yours, Kitty.
That pretty much sums up all of my Fleet week adventures. In the middle I hosted some crazy boys who thought that by causing my many grey hairs and making so much noise that my neighbors now cut their eyes at me when I walk by makes them bad ass. They played basketball inside my house, did "parkour" (i.e. they jumped on shit) in Times Square and fell asleep at a bar while going beer to beer with me and NP. According to the rumor mill I had sex with one of these over sized children but that's been put to rest. When someone accused me of denying the truth I pointed out that I would be very happy to get laid but I don't like taking credit for things I haven't done.
My mama raised me better than that.
Anyways... that catches you up on the last few weeks. Everything else is less interesting and frankly I'm too tired to keep typing.
Things to address in the next post:
- PBA coming to town next week... wants "casual stress relief sex"
- Ninja still playing with my heartstrings and I'm playing with the idea of telling him I still love him
- MugWug moved in with me. I don't like to share and I don't play well with others so this is quite a stressful bit of news.
I'd go on but it's late and I already set my alarm for 8am so I need to get in a catnap.
Love to you all.
xx KK
I don't know where the rest of you kids are but I'm in the big apple and it's mother fucking melting over here.
I can't believe it's June already. So much has happened and I havent had a single moment to sit down and compose it into one cohesive train of thought.
School is done. I graduated. No more homework or 8am lectures. Which is nice. But also sad.
Working on becoming a US citizen now.
Been getting into the usual drunken trouble.
Fleetweek just passed which was supposed to bring the glory of many a good lay but unfortunately Mama Nature has been after me ever since I accidentally murdered all of the lillies in my neighbors yard (I was 9) so I had an unwelcome guest in the form of my freaking period during the majority of Fleetweek. I still went out and winged for my girlies NP and shiv but it was sad not to hook a sailor. On the last night I was finally finished surfing the red sea and I nabbed the hottest little seafarer at a dark bar. After beerpong and ass grabbing I was sure we were headed to my apartment (conveniently located a block from his ship) but thats about the time the excuses started pouring out of his mouth. He couldn't leave the bar, he only had 40 minutes left, the other marines might worry. Clearly his only solution was to propose bathroom sex.
Excuse me?
Bathroom sex?
No.
I am not a five buck fuck in the back of a strip club.
When he wouldn't let go of this idea I mentioned that we didn't have the proper equipment (read: condoms) but instead of leaving the bar to go to my house where I have a stockpile of 9 (don't judge me, I'm just prepared) he decided to go to Duane Reade and buy a pack to bring back for bathroom sex. Despite the fact that the time he would spend in line would take three times as long as walking to my house.
Anyways.... Mikey the sailor was hot but as soon as he left me at the bar to buy condoms I downed my drink and left.
Dear Mike, if you read this, you are a smoking hott catch of a man and I'm sure that your tragic flaw is that you are painfully aware of this fact. Despite you being hott and me being ridiculously in need for a good bang I do have standards and they include not fucking where people regularly piss. Yours, Kitty.
That pretty much sums up all of my Fleet week adventures. In the middle I hosted some crazy boys who thought that by causing my many grey hairs and making so much noise that my neighbors now cut their eyes at me when I walk by makes them bad ass. They played basketball inside my house, did "parkour" (i.e. they jumped on shit) in Times Square and fell asleep at a bar while going beer to beer with me and NP. According to the rumor mill I had sex with one of these over sized children but that's been put to rest. When someone accused me of denying the truth I pointed out that I would be very happy to get laid but I don't like taking credit for things I haven't done.
My mama raised me better than that.
Anyways... that catches you up on the last few weeks. Everything else is less interesting and frankly I'm too tired to keep typing.
Things to address in the next post:
- PBA coming to town next week... wants "casual stress relief sex"
- Ninja still playing with my heartstrings and I'm playing with the idea of telling him I still love him
- MugWug moved in with me. I don't like to share and I don't play well with others so this is quite a stressful bit of news.
I'd go on but it's late and I already set my alarm for 8am so I need to get in a catnap.
Love to you all.
xx KK
Thursday, April 28, 2011
NUNCHUK TO THE HEART
So ever since he roundhouse kicked his way back into my heart Ninja has been a ball of confusion. We talked for two days straight for hours on end. We talked about what we've been up to, how scary/exciting graduation will be, what we're planning on doing after said graduation, his upcoming wedding to Tori, their potential offspring, whether we should have to give up our dreams for the people who are important to us. And then I grew some lady balls (but only because Siobhan made me) and I asked him why he had contacted me.
The answer was thoroughly underwhelming... He just noticed I was missing from his facebook and wanted to know why.
That's it.
No ground breaking love story. No desire to see what I was up to and if he still had a chance. Just a random encounter and god given curiosity.
MugWug was right... Ninja doesn't still love me he's just a decent human being who was being nice.
But that doesn't stop me from dreaming. You see he never actually said that he loves his bride to be. He said that choosing between her and his dreams was extremely difficult because since she had been in his life so long she had become important to him. They've been together for almost 8 years and he can't say that he chose her because he loves her? I mean... he was willing to leave her for me after 4 years with her and 4 days with me. He told me he loved me before we'd ever even kissed.
This is a bad bad road I'm going down.
Mina and Coley, who have never been mentioned because we don't get into very much trouble together but who do know me well and spend far too much time with me, are happily plotting my breaking up of his engagement. They're convinced I should be actively pursuing him despite the ring he put on Tori. And boy am I tempted. But I'm not.
Partly because I want him to choose me without prompting. I don't want to break them up I just want to be there when they do break up....
I want him to be happy. Don't get me wrong. I love him, still.. four years later I know I love him, but I love him so much that I want him to be happy even if it's not with me. So, yes, I want him to leave her for me. But more importantly I want him to leave her because he doesn't seem to be happy... And if I'm wrong... if he really really is happy with her then I wish him all the best and I'll quietly dream of an alternative world where he says "I don't" and comes back to me.
Ugh let me stop thinking about this and go do some real work. The kind of work that is giving me a 24-7 headache and stealing all my sleeping time away from me.
xxKK
The answer was thoroughly underwhelming... He just noticed I was missing from his facebook and wanted to know why.
That's it.
No ground breaking love story. No desire to see what I was up to and if he still had a chance. Just a random encounter and god given curiosity.
MugWug was right... Ninja doesn't still love me he's just a decent human being who was being nice.
But that doesn't stop me from dreaming. You see he never actually said that he loves his bride to be. He said that choosing between her and his dreams was extremely difficult because since she had been in his life so long she had become important to him. They've been together for almost 8 years and he can't say that he chose her because he loves her? I mean... he was willing to leave her for me after 4 years with her and 4 days with me. He told me he loved me before we'd ever even kissed.
This is a bad bad road I'm going down.
Mina and Coley, who have never been mentioned because we don't get into very much trouble together but who do know me well and spend far too much time with me, are happily plotting my breaking up of his engagement. They're convinced I should be actively pursuing him despite the ring he put on Tori. And boy am I tempted. But I'm not.
Partly because I want him to choose me without prompting. I don't want to break them up I just want to be there when they do break up....
I want him to be happy. Don't get me wrong. I love him, still.. four years later I know I love him, but I love him so much that I want him to be happy even if it's not with me. So, yes, I want him to leave her for me. But more importantly I want him to leave her because he doesn't seem to be happy... And if I'm wrong... if he really really is happy with her then I wish him all the best and I'll quietly dream of an alternative world where he says "I don't" and comes back to me.
Ugh let me stop thinking about this and go do some real work. The kind of work that is giving me a 24-7 headache and stealing all my sleeping time away from me.
xxKK
Friday, April 22, 2011
THE NINJA THAT SNUCK UP AND STOLE MY HEART
So someone just walked back into my life. Someone who used to be really really important to me.
Let's call him Ninja.
Now to be clear, when I say he's walked back into my life I mean he sent me a facebook message to reconnect or whatever. And usually I'm all for reconnection and making friends but we have a...complicated...past.
Back in high school after Charlie and I broke up (oh my poor 16 year old heart) some really harsh words were exchanged and I felt like crap for a long time. Ninja was one of my friends at the time. We had spanish, english and homeroom together. We weren't all that close, just playful teasing and running in the same groups. But after the break up I was pretty distraught and it brought us closer together because he was the only boy I knew who didn't know Charlie and could give me an unbiased mans opinion on the situation.
Anyways through the bonding over how awful my ex was being we started to talk about how unhappy he was with his relationship too. And our playful teasing suddenly turned into something.
Something wonderful.
I found in him the man I wanted. I found solace in a man who made me feel special and beautiful and loved.
Charlie came back into my life around then and things actually got worse... so I was driven even closer to my Ninja.
I loved him.
Like... a lot. But Charlie was telling me about how I was such a slut for having another boyfriend (not ninja) when I was broken up with him so logically I felt I should get back together with him and make it up to him....
Because that makes sense...
Anyways I got back together with Charlie and Ninja was really upset and he asked me to leave Charlie and he would leave his girlfriend of 4 years and we could be together. Which is the most romantic thing anyone has ever asked of me to this day. I said I needed to think about it and he gave me 24 hours. In which he broke up with his girlfriend (who never knew about him and I but still hates me now...go figure) and I decided to stay with Charlie.
Bad decision.
Worst mistake.
Biggest regret.
Ever.
He got upset, got back with his girlfriend and we graduated high school with drama between us and not talking.
The next year I was at college in NYC and he was on Long Island and we started talking. Talking three hours a night, every night, for months. I rarely slept. Then we made plans to meet up and right before I was going to get on a train to go see him he told me not to. Because he was still with the girl from high school and I was still with Charlie and it would be wrong because we weren't just friends. We still had all that love between us.
Conversations came to a halt.
Add 8 months, repeat. We talked, he had moved from LI so there was no meet up options but we still talked a lot. Then it stopped again because it was unfair to our significant others.
Cut to 6 months later, I have that horrible scarring breaking up with Charlie in November and run into Ninja in December. We hang out all night and then it's just... awkward because I still love him. And he still doesn't seem happy with his lady and there's just nothing to say. So we part and other than the occasional accidental run in we never speak.
Then he proposed to his girlfriend which sent me to the bar for three days. Because I still love him. And it's pathetic.
When I go to stalk the shit out of him and his engagement I realize he's blocked me on facebook. So to stop me from continuing to check on his page every day to see if I've been un-blocked I delete him from my friends list.
Cut to 12 months later (now) and all of our friends are taking bets on how long the marriage will last and I'm trying to be civil to his fiance who hates me when I see her, but she still wants to rip out my eyeballs. And then out of nowhere he messages me. "Hey - I see I've been deleted, por que? Hope you're doing well"
....
Por Que? Porque you gettin' married to a lady who hates me and won't let you talk to me, who probably told you to block me on facebook and who would rip my hair, which happens to be one of my best physical features, out of my head with her teeth if she found out he messaged me.
And while I miss him as a friend there's no possible way we can BE FRIENDS.
BECAUSE I LOVE HIM.
And I realize it's been 4 years now since we had our small affair, if you will, but I honestly still feel like an idiot for letting him go and I honestly think I still love him and could make it work with him. We just fit each other really well and I was always the best version of myself with him. And I miss him. A lot.
So I sent him a message back because I'm clearly not the kind of girl who would ignore a message that was probably meant as an olive branch of friendship (I'm more the type that stares at the olive branch message for three hours and freaks out about it before responding with a detached noncommital "im totally over you but maybe not" sort of message) and now I'm literally not going to sleep until I get a response. Because I definitely left the ending on a happy-ish "I'm totally willing to talk to you" sort of thing. Because I'm hoping he noticed I was missing from his friend list because he went looking for me because he misses me and wants to be friends again... and i dunno... all that implies with us. And not because I came up in his "people you might know" group...
I am way over thinking this.
But that's what you do when you love someone and care about what they think of you.
Anyways I thought I should tell you the story of Ninja since he's probably going to make multiple appearances on here and my tweets.
It's late so I'm going to go...make coffee so I can stay up an wait for his response.
Not like I'm sad and desperate or anything...
God I hope he's emailing me to tell me he called off the wedding and he wants to be with me....
Don't judge me for saying that. I'm just being honest.
But don't get me wrong... I'd rather him be happy than with me. I'd love for him to be happy with me. But if being with her, if being her husband makes Ninja happy then I will send him all the good juju I muster and keep back my regrets and bitterness over love lost. Because I love him and I want him to be happy. No matter what.
xxKK
Let's call him Ninja.
Now to be clear, when I say he's walked back into my life I mean he sent me a facebook message to reconnect or whatever. And usually I'm all for reconnection and making friends but we have a...complicated...past.
Back in high school after Charlie and I broke up (oh my poor 16 year old heart) some really harsh words were exchanged and I felt like crap for a long time. Ninja was one of my friends at the time. We had spanish, english and homeroom together. We weren't all that close, just playful teasing and running in the same groups. But after the break up I was pretty distraught and it brought us closer together because he was the only boy I knew who didn't know Charlie and could give me an unbiased mans opinion on the situation.
Anyways through the bonding over how awful my ex was being we started to talk about how unhappy he was with his relationship too. And our playful teasing suddenly turned into something.
Something wonderful.
I found in him the man I wanted. I found solace in a man who made me feel special and beautiful and loved.
Charlie came back into my life around then and things actually got worse... so I was driven even closer to my Ninja.
I loved him.
Like... a lot. But Charlie was telling me about how I was such a slut for having another boyfriend (not ninja) when I was broken up with him so logically I felt I should get back together with him and make it up to him....
Because that makes sense...
Anyways I got back together with Charlie and Ninja was really upset and he asked me to leave Charlie and he would leave his girlfriend of 4 years and we could be together. Which is the most romantic thing anyone has ever asked of me to this day. I said I needed to think about it and he gave me 24 hours. In which he broke up with his girlfriend (who never knew about him and I but still hates me now...go figure) and I decided to stay with Charlie.
Bad decision.
Worst mistake.
Biggest regret.
Ever.
He got upset, got back with his girlfriend and we graduated high school with drama between us and not talking.
The next year I was at college in NYC and he was on Long Island and we started talking. Talking three hours a night, every night, for months. I rarely slept. Then we made plans to meet up and right before I was going to get on a train to go see him he told me not to. Because he was still with the girl from high school and I was still with Charlie and it would be wrong because we weren't just friends. We still had all that love between us.
Conversations came to a halt.
Add 8 months, repeat. We talked, he had moved from LI so there was no meet up options but we still talked a lot. Then it stopped again because it was unfair to our significant others.
Cut to 6 months later, I have that horrible scarring breaking up with Charlie in November and run into Ninja in December. We hang out all night and then it's just... awkward because I still love him. And he still doesn't seem happy with his lady and there's just nothing to say. So we part and other than the occasional accidental run in we never speak.
Then he proposed to his girlfriend which sent me to the bar for three days. Because I still love him. And it's pathetic.
When I go to stalk the shit out of him and his engagement I realize he's blocked me on facebook. So to stop me from continuing to check on his page every day to see if I've been un-blocked I delete him from my friends list.
Cut to 12 months later (now) and all of our friends are taking bets on how long the marriage will last and I'm trying to be civil to his fiance who hates me when I see her, but she still wants to rip out my eyeballs. And then out of nowhere he messages me. "Hey - I see I've been deleted, por que? Hope you're doing well"
....
Por Que? Porque you gettin' married to a lady who hates me and won't let you talk to me, who probably told you to block me on facebook and who would rip my hair, which happens to be one of my best physical features, out of my head with her teeth if she found out he messaged me.
And while I miss him as a friend there's no possible way we can BE FRIENDS.
BECAUSE I LOVE HIM.
And I realize it's been 4 years now since we had our small affair, if you will, but I honestly still feel like an idiot for letting him go and I honestly think I still love him and could make it work with him. We just fit each other really well and I was always the best version of myself with him. And I miss him. A lot.
So I sent him a message back because I'm clearly not the kind of girl who would ignore a message that was probably meant as an olive branch of friendship (I'm more the type that stares at the olive branch message for three hours and freaks out about it before responding with a detached noncommital "im totally over you but maybe not" sort of message) and now I'm literally not going to sleep until I get a response. Because I definitely left the ending on a happy-ish "I'm totally willing to talk to you" sort of thing. Because I'm hoping he noticed I was missing from his friend list because he went looking for me because he misses me and wants to be friends again... and i dunno... all that implies with us. And not because I came up in his "people you might know" group...
I am way over thinking this.
But that's what you do when you love someone and care about what they think of you.
Anyways I thought I should tell you the story of Ninja since he's probably going to make multiple appearances on here and my tweets.
It's late so I'm going to go...make coffee so I can stay up an wait for his response.
Not like I'm sad and desperate or anything...
God I hope he's emailing me to tell me he called off the wedding and he wants to be with me....
Don't judge me for saying that. I'm just being honest.
But don't get me wrong... I'd rather him be happy than with me. I'd love for him to be happy with me. But if being with her, if being her husband makes Ninja happy then I will send him all the good juju I muster and keep back my regrets and bitterness over love lost. Because I love him and I want him to be happy. No matter what.
xxKK
Friday, April 15, 2011
WHILE THE KAT IS AWAY THE MICE WILL PLAY...
So about 2 months ago I came home one fateful night and when I walked into my bedroom something small and dark dashed across the wall and under my bed.
Naturally I thought it was a roach because I fucking hate roaches and they always seem to find me.
So I bombed my house, sprayed a shit ton of baygon and nearly asphyxiated myself.
I also slept on my couch for the next three weeks. Partially to avoid complete asphyxiation and partly because I'm a big ass chicken who has a history of sleeping on my couch to avoid bedroom inhabitants and/or messes.
But then one morning I was sleeping on the couch and the motherfucking mouse ran across my floor.
So I went back to sleeping in my bedroom.
The next time I saw the mouse (at 2 am) I engaged in all out warfare for an hour and a half until I had it trapped in a tiny corner by the door. Opened the door and whoosh, swept it outside. I saw it scrabble around on the landing before hauling ass down the stairs.
Cut to two months later: I'm sitting on my couch, feeling pleased as punch, watching a little My So-Called Life and then I hear it.
Scrabble. Scrabble. Scratch. Scratch. Squeek.
I fuck you not. There was a squeek.
And you'll never guess where it came from.
The motherfucking oven.
Yes. Mouse in the mother fucking oven.
So then I'm like wtf? And then I'm like Imma roast the motherfucker. And then, after a little google research, I realized how bad of an idea that was so I just started making noise to scare it. On and off it scrabbled and scratched and squeeked.
I mean, I left traps, dropped poison, installed 5 of those little sonic things and still it scrabbled on.
Then... nothing. No noises for a few days. I finally started using my stovetop again.
And now I can't be sure if it's the 4:46 on the clock or an actual sighting but I'm pretty sure I just saw another furry run out in the corner of my eye.
Well I'm heading out of manhattan for some debauchery with Miranda Bellevue (she likes fun) and I'm hoping that while I'm way the mouses will decide this house is not for them and I will come home to a furry free residence.
I'm also hoping that while I'm away Miranda and my two new favorite boys, Sebastiano and Juliano, will keep my mind off the mice with copious amounts of alcohol, installation wrecking, trespassing, glitterati* and fetus cakes for breakfast.
If that sounds wrong just wait till I blog about what actually goes down this weekend :P crazy times. Last time was too R rated for even this humble blog.
Anyways, I'm off to get a power nap in before school.
xxKK
*glitterati - an amateur (i.e. with yo friends) photo shoot consisting of ridiculous faces, costumes and, obviously, glitter. Also a term for the trio of Miranda, Juiliano & Sebastiano.
Naturally I thought it was a roach because I fucking hate roaches and they always seem to find me.
So I bombed my house, sprayed a shit ton of baygon and nearly asphyxiated myself.
I also slept on my couch for the next three weeks. Partially to avoid complete asphyxiation and partly because I'm a big ass chicken who has a history of sleeping on my couch to avoid bedroom inhabitants and/or messes.
But then one morning I was sleeping on the couch and the motherfucking mouse ran across my floor.
So I went back to sleeping in my bedroom.
The next time I saw the mouse (at 2 am) I engaged in all out warfare for an hour and a half until I had it trapped in a tiny corner by the door. Opened the door and whoosh, swept it outside. I saw it scrabble around on the landing before hauling ass down the stairs.
Cut to two months later: I'm sitting on my couch, feeling pleased as punch, watching a little My So-Called Life and then I hear it.
Scrabble. Scrabble. Scratch. Scratch. Squeek.
I fuck you not. There was a squeek.
And you'll never guess where it came from.
The motherfucking oven.
Yes. Mouse in the mother fucking oven.
So then I'm like wtf? And then I'm like Imma roast the motherfucker. And then, after a little google research, I realized how bad of an idea that was so I just started making noise to scare it. On and off it scrabbled and scratched and squeeked.
I mean, I left traps, dropped poison, installed 5 of those little sonic things and still it scrabbled on.
Then... nothing. No noises for a few days. I finally started using my stovetop again.
And now I can't be sure if it's the 4:46 on the clock or an actual sighting but I'm pretty sure I just saw another furry run out in the corner of my eye.
Well I'm heading out of manhattan for some debauchery with Miranda Bellevue (she likes fun) and I'm hoping that while I'm way the mouses will decide this house is not for them and I will come home to a furry free residence.
I'm also hoping that while I'm away Miranda and my two new favorite boys, Sebastiano and Juliano, will keep my mind off the mice with copious amounts of alcohol, installation wrecking, trespassing, glitterati* and fetus cakes for breakfast.
If that sounds wrong just wait till I blog about what actually goes down this weekend :P crazy times. Last time was too R rated for even this humble blog.
Anyways, I'm off to get a power nap in before school.
xxKK
*glitterati - an amateur (i.e. with yo friends) photo shoot consisting of ridiculous faces, costumes and, obviously, glitter. Also a term for the trio of Miranda, Juiliano & Sebastiano.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
SICK KITTEH
Finally, a moment to sit and contemplate life and write.
If only this moment didn't have to come at the expense of my immune system.
My immune system saw how helpful and productive the rest of my body was being with the working and the gyming and the general being awesome at life so it decided it could take the week off.
Now I'm a little freak of nature who gets sick quite often and whose resting body temperature is somewhere around 95°. Which, as you little genuises have probably already figured out, is about 3 degrees lower than you. What's three degrees though, right? Well consider the difference you feel between your normal 98.6° and the oh so sick feeling of 101°... well that's only two and a half degrees. Anyways, if I hit 99° on any given day I'm already feeling pretty crappy but this weekend my immune system didn't just take a day trip to the cape but went on a full blown leave of absence.
I hit 102°, which is like 105° for you normal people.
So needless to say I wasn't gyming or working or doing anything at all. In fact I couldn't even play video games because I couldn't concentrate on the moving pictures... and I couldn't stay awake for more than an hour.
Anyways. Thats about all you need to know about my sickness. Unless you want the gross details. But I don't feel like sharing those just now.
Well since I spent 48 hours in bed doing nothing I don't have a lot to report on. My life is pretty boring right now. Not much change from before. Busy busy bee.
Fuck now I'm tired... back to sleep. When I get back from yet another nap remind me to tell y'all about my fucking mouse problem.
If only this moment didn't have to come at the expense of my immune system.
My immune system saw how helpful and productive the rest of my body was being with the working and the gyming and the general being awesome at life so it decided it could take the week off.
Now I'm a little freak of nature who gets sick quite often and whose resting body temperature is somewhere around 95°. Which, as you little genuises have probably already figured out, is about 3 degrees lower than you. What's three degrees though, right? Well consider the difference you feel between your normal 98.6° and the oh so sick feeling of 101°... well that's only two and a half degrees. Anyways, if I hit 99° on any given day I'm already feeling pretty crappy but this weekend my immune system didn't just take a day trip to the cape but went on a full blown leave of absence.
I hit 102°, which is like 105° for you normal people.
So needless to say I wasn't gyming or working or doing anything at all. In fact I couldn't even play video games because I couldn't concentrate on the moving pictures... and I couldn't stay awake for more than an hour.
Anyways. Thats about all you need to know about my sickness. Unless you want the gross details. But I don't feel like sharing those just now.
Well since I spent 48 hours in bed doing nothing I don't have a lot to report on. My life is pretty boring right now. Not much change from before. Busy busy bee.
Fuck now I'm tired... back to sleep. When I get back from yet another nap remind me to tell y'all about my fucking mouse problem.
Monday, March 28, 2011
HOLY SHIT IT'S BEEN 2 MONTHS!
Holy shit!
How is it possible that two whole months have gone by without a blog posting?! Especially when that last post centered around public peeing.
Well I can actually answer that...
You see, when you spend your days in a whirlwind of get up, do makeup, make coffee, get to class, be productive, listen, take notes, go home, do homework, play xbox, try to work on the movie, try to finish writing my movie, get to sleep, actually sleep and wake up and do it again, it's pretty hard to then find time or motivation to log on and write some more.
And recently I've added go to the gym between take notes and go home and xbox is now xbox kinect so I'm fucking tired by the end of my day.
But don't get me wrong, despite the work and the ever-nagging presence of writing in my daily deeds I could still talk about myself for hours. So really I need to somehow find time to fit this in so my poor friends can stop listening to me bitch all the time.
Not that anyone but my friends read this blog but at least this way I can get it out in one posting and be done with the issue... yah... that'll totally work.
Well let me catch you up a bit.
School and work have me so stressed that I have a minor panic attack when my blackberry dies because I fear being out of contact during crucial moments (you don't want to see me when I think I've lost it)
Graduation is quickly descending upon me like a dark cloud of doom that threatens poverty and deportation.
MugWug and I are fighting. Well, fighting is the wrong word to use... we just don't talk. So we can't really fight if there's no talking. Part of me wants to slap myself and say look at all the past drama, haven't you learned anything? It's probably not a big deal at all. And part of me thinks that going 17 days without talking to or seeing your 'best friend' isn't normal and there is something decidedly big dealish about it.
I desperately need a massage because of the tension knot growing in my neck.
I need some therapy because vodka and shoe shopping isn't cutting it anymore.
I probably need a doctor for my face tumor (more on that in a later post)
And I need a fucking facial because working out everyday has been clogging up my pores no matter how hard I exfoliate afterwards.
Oh and I need a tan because I look like a ghost.
"Men?", you ask.
Well... No.
No men. Which means no sex which means I definitely need that massage and gym time because I ain't getting no tension relief anywhere else...
I've got a flight in the morning so I bid you all adieu but I will try to fit 'write on KKC' somewhere into that schedule. I'm sure it'll cut into my sleep time but I'm not very good at sleeping so it's pretty much a lost cause anyways.
Love you all.
xxKK
How is it possible that two whole months have gone by without a blog posting?! Especially when that last post centered around public peeing.
Well I can actually answer that...
You see, when you spend your days in a whirlwind of get up, do makeup, make coffee, get to class, be productive, listen, take notes, go home, do homework, play xbox, try to work on the movie, try to finish writing my movie, get to sleep, actually sleep and wake up and do it again, it's pretty hard to then find time or motivation to log on and write some more.
And recently I've added go to the gym between take notes and go home and xbox is now xbox kinect so I'm fucking tired by the end of my day.
But don't get me wrong, despite the work and the ever-nagging presence of writing in my daily deeds I could still talk about myself for hours. So really I need to somehow find time to fit this in so my poor friends can stop listening to me bitch all the time.
Not that anyone but my friends read this blog but at least this way I can get it out in one posting and be done with the issue... yah... that'll totally work.
Well let me catch you up a bit.
School and work have me so stressed that I have a minor panic attack when my blackberry dies because I fear being out of contact during crucial moments (you don't want to see me when I think I've lost it)
Graduation is quickly descending upon me like a dark cloud of doom that threatens poverty and deportation.
MugWug and I are fighting. Well, fighting is the wrong word to use... we just don't talk. So we can't really fight if there's no talking. Part of me wants to slap myself and say look at all the past drama, haven't you learned anything? It's probably not a big deal at all. And part of me thinks that going 17 days without talking to or seeing your 'best friend' isn't normal and there is something decidedly big dealish about it.
I desperately need a massage because of the tension knot growing in my neck.
I need some therapy because vodka and shoe shopping isn't cutting it anymore.
I probably need a doctor for my face tumor (more on that in a later post)
And I need a fucking facial because working out everyday has been clogging up my pores no matter how hard I exfoliate afterwards.
Oh and I need a tan because I look like a ghost.
"Men?", you ask.
Well... No.
No men. Which means no sex which means I definitely need that massage and gym time because I ain't getting no tension relief anywhere else...
I've got a flight in the morning so I bid you all adieu but I will try to fit 'write on KKC' somewhere into that schedule. I'm sure it'll cut into my sleep time but I'm not very good at sleeping so it's pretty much a lost cause anyways.
Love you all.
xxKK
Sunday, January 23, 2011
NOSEBLEEDS AND PUBLIC URINATION
SO tonight me and MugWug went out with a couple of his LaX buddies (that's a pretentious way to say Lacrosse.. get it? La- Cross = Lax.)
It was super fun and we drank and danced and despite this being the only day in my life where I didn't have make up in my purse I still had a good time despite not planning to go out...and therefore not being appropriately made up or dressed up.
First just me and MugWug went to get some Korean food... mmmmm my favorite fucking thing ever (seriously if you ever piss me off just take me for bibimbop and we'll be cool) and had dinner and two glasses of water.
Then we go to see a movie (Kings Speech... if you haven't seen it, go. I loved it so hard we could have made a baby) and I had a soda. Which, while being a "small", filled me up to the brim.
Then we decide to go to a bar to meet his friends. Introductions and 1 heineken.
Then the bar sort of dies so we move to another... more introductions, run into an old friend and three Heinekens, 1 shot and a glass of water.
Do you see what's happening?
Lots of liquid and no bathroom breaks...
So at 4am... after being out for almost twelve hours I was in a cab on my way home and I was dyiiiiing. I needed to pee so bad that 4 blocks from my apartment I almost asked the cabbie to pull over so I could pop a squat.
But this is not such a brilliant idea you see, because, I live off of Times fucking Square. Just as I had made my mind up to not suffer and just stop and pee over a subway grate or in the corner between the wall and the entrance to Starbucks a fucking cop car went past me and I remembered that public urination was sort of a no-no here.
And then I have a little gander around and I notice TWELVE OTHER COP CARS.
Of course... this is Times Square after all.
And as an international member of society I really don't need the cops taking an interest in my actions so.... I sucked it up and stayed in the car.
Got home and peed so hard I thought my bladder would fall out and just when I thought the worst was over I decided to make a snack of granola and blueberries and milk. Mix in a bowl and bring to my room.
Go to take a bite and notice the milk is sort of pink... as I look closer.. drip drop, a little red dot appears in the milk. Wipe my hand under my nose and lo and behold... a nose bleed.
Shocker.
So now I have vaseline up my nose (I hear it helps stop bleeding and keep passages moist) pink milk and a tired body. I think I'll sleep now and pray that this vaseline works and I don't wake up in a pool of my own blood again.
Night kittens.
xxKK
It was super fun and we drank and danced and despite this being the only day in my life where I didn't have make up in my purse I still had a good time despite not planning to go out...and therefore not being appropriately made up or dressed up.
First just me and MugWug went to get some Korean food... mmmmm my favorite fucking thing ever (seriously if you ever piss me off just take me for bibimbop and we'll be cool) and had dinner and two glasses of water.
Then we go to see a movie (Kings Speech... if you haven't seen it, go. I loved it so hard we could have made a baby) and I had a soda. Which, while being a "small", filled me up to the brim.
Then we decide to go to a bar to meet his friends. Introductions and 1 heineken.
Then the bar sort of dies so we move to another... more introductions, run into an old friend and three Heinekens, 1 shot and a glass of water.
Do you see what's happening?
Lots of liquid and no bathroom breaks...
So at 4am... after being out for almost twelve hours I was in a cab on my way home and I was dyiiiiing. I needed to pee so bad that 4 blocks from my apartment I almost asked the cabbie to pull over so I could pop a squat.
But this is not such a brilliant idea you see, because, I live off of Times fucking Square. Just as I had made my mind up to not suffer and just stop and pee over a subway grate or in the corner between the wall and the entrance to Starbucks a fucking cop car went past me and I remembered that public urination was sort of a no-no here.
And then I have a little gander around and I notice TWELVE OTHER COP CARS.
Of course... this is Times Square after all.
And as an international member of society I really don't need the cops taking an interest in my actions so.... I sucked it up and stayed in the car.
Got home and peed so hard I thought my bladder would fall out and just when I thought the worst was over I decided to make a snack of granola and blueberries and milk. Mix in a bowl and bring to my room.
Go to take a bite and notice the milk is sort of pink... as I look closer.. drip drop, a little red dot appears in the milk. Wipe my hand under my nose and lo and behold... a nose bleed.
Shocker.
So now I have vaseline up my nose (I hear it helps stop bleeding and keep passages moist) pink milk and a tired body. I think I'll sleep now and pray that this vaseline works and I don't wake up in a pool of my own blood again.
Night kittens.
xxKK
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
A BIT ABOUT "PBA"
So... I sort of brought up the general topic of PBAs (Penis By Appointment) the sort of in-between of One Night Stands and Fuck Buddies.
And I sort of mentioned that PBA, as far as the rest of this blog goes, unless otherwise stated, is actually a new person of interest. I mentioned that right? Somewhere in tiny font in a post script?
So really by bringing the idea of PBA to your attention I was actually trying to introduce a new character....
Can I call him a character? I mean all the people I write about are real people.. including PBA. But their lives are only interesting to write about when they pertain to the focus of this blog: Me.
(I did admit in the very first post of KKC that blogging is extremely narcissistic.)
So in someways he is just a character. Because just like selective honesty is the same as lying, selective storytelling is sort of like fictionalizing.
But it's not fiction. It's my life.
Anyways. So PBA and I decided to become... well... Penis By Appointment friends. We rarely hang out and when we do it always turns to talk of sex and I'm not getting any and He's not getting any so why not use each other in times of need?
Right?
Wrong.
So we decide this and we talk about it ALL THE TIME when I'm in NYC and he's in the fucking UK. And we finally get home for winter break after talking about it for weeks and then... nothing.
We occasionally talk on skype but he's usually heading out and I'm usually feeding the dog or sleeping when he calls (because he calls at 3 in the goddamn morning!) So we keep missing each other. Then it comes time for him to leave but lo and behold his flight gets cancelled and pushed back a week.
It's like God wants me to get laid.
But then he like disappears into his house like a fucking rat and I don't hear from him until last night.
And last night he only spoke to me to remind me that he only had one day left before he left (which makes it tomorrow now) and he was surprised he hadn't seen me at his house yet...
Excuse me?
Dear PBA,
You live an hour away from me, which is as far as you can possibly get from one another on this tiny island) and it's been windy as hell, I only have a motorcycle license and frankly I'm not going to drive for an hour in gale force winds on a lark, hoping to run into you at your house that I'm not actually sure if you're at or not because YOU NEVER TELL ME WHEN YOU ARE HOME.
Also, if you can't pick up the phone and call me to say "hi", let alone "lets fuck", then I honestly don't have the energy to put into the commute let alone the sex.
Love, Kitty.
So he calls, wants to see me BUT (shocker) he's busy alllllllll day hanging out with his grandpa. Maybe at night we can finally meet up and sex in the back of the bar he owns.
Romantic, I know.
So I agree, hell why not? I've got nothing better to do with my Tuesday nights. So I spend the day chilling and being awesome like usual and then around 8pm I change into my Kitty PJs (yes I own pajamas with cats on them...two pairs in fact. These ones are pink) because I figure that the only way that he could possibly even think of calling me is if it is the most inconvenient time. Like if I was in my PJs halfway to passed out watching a really good movie on cable.
But apparently even playing against the odds won't help this Kat get some.
It's now 9:36. If I don't hear from him by 10 it's a no go. First, who hangs out with their Grandpa til 10pm the day/night before they fly away from all their friends for 6 months. Second, if you don't call me by 10 then I won't get there till 11 (and that's driving in the dark with wind and rain) and then, if you're worth your stuff, we won't be done til 12 and I won't get home til 1 am. I try to be off my motorcycle by midnight. Any later and I take a cab... its safety first. And lastly, if I am the last thing to do (literally) on your pre-flight checklist then you honestly don't deserve to have me. I should have been the first thing.
Because while I know we aren't going to fall in love and runaway together or any of that crap I do know that I am awesome in bed. Even in the back room of your bar.
So I'm ending this transaction of penis for lady parts.
But you've earned the nickname PBA, you little manslut, so that stays.
Yours,
Kitty.
xxKK
And I sort of mentioned that PBA, as far as the rest of this blog goes, unless otherwise stated, is actually a new person of interest. I mentioned that right? Somewhere in tiny font in a post script?
So really by bringing the idea of PBA to your attention I was actually trying to introduce a new character....
Can I call him a character? I mean all the people I write about are real people.. including PBA. But their lives are only interesting to write about when they pertain to the focus of this blog: Me.
(I did admit in the very first post of KKC that blogging is extremely narcissistic.)
So in someways he is just a character. Because just like selective honesty is the same as lying, selective storytelling is sort of like fictionalizing.
But it's not fiction. It's my life.
Anyways. So PBA and I decided to become... well... Penis By Appointment friends. We rarely hang out and when we do it always turns to talk of sex and I'm not getting any and He's not getting any so why not use each other in times of need?
Right?
Wrong.
So we decide this and we talk about it ALL THE TIME when I'm in NYC and he's in the fucking UK. And we finally get home for winter break after talking about it for weeks and then... nothing.
We occasionally talk on skype but he's usually heading out and I'm usually feeding the dog or sleeping when he calls (because he calls at 3 in the goddamn morning!) So we keep missing each other. Then it comes time for him to leave but lo and behold his flight gets cancelled and pushed back a week.
It's like God wants me to get laid.
But then he like disappears into his house like a fucking rat and I don't hear from him until last night.
And last night he only spoke to me to remind me that he only had one day left before he left (which makes it tomorrow now) and he was surprised he hadn't seen me at his house yet...
Excuse me?
Dear PBA,
You live an hour away from me, which is as far as you can possibly get from one another on this tiny island) and it's been windy as hell, I only have a motorcycle license and frankly I'm not going to drive for an hour in gale force winds on a lark, hoping to run into you at your house that I'm not actually sure if you're at or not because YOU NEVER TELL ME WHEN YOU ARE HOME.
Also, if you can't pick up the phone and call me to say "hi", let alone "lets fuck", then I honestly don't have the energy to put into the commute let alone the sex.
Love, Kitty.
So he calls, wants to see me BUT (shocker) he's busy alllllllll day hanging out with his grandpa. Maybe at night we can finally meet up and sex in the back of the bar he owns.
Romantic, I know.
So I agree, hell why not? I've got nothing better to do with my Tuesday nights. So I spend the day chilling and being awesome like usual and then around 8pm I change into my Kitty PJs (yes I own pajamas with cats on them...two pairs in fact. These ones are pink) because I figure that the only way that he could possibly even think of calling me is if it is the most inconvenient time. Like if I was in my PJs halfway to passed out watching a really good movie on cable.
But apparently even playing against the odds won't help this Kat get some.
It's now 9:36. If I don't hear from him by 10 it's a no go. First, who hangs out with their Grandpa til 10pm the day/night before they fly away from all their friends for 6 months. Second, if you don't call me by 10 then I won't get there till 11 (and that's driving in the dark with wind and rain) and then, if you're worth your stuff, we won't be done til 12 and I won't get home til 1 am. I try to be off my motorcycle by midnight. Any later and I take a cab... its safety first. And lastly, if I am the last thing to do (literally) on your pre-flight checklist then you honestly don't deserve to have me. I should have been the first thing.
Because while I know we aren't going to fall in love and runaway together or any of that crap I do know that I am awesome in bed. Even in the back room of your bar.
So I'm ending this transaction of penis for lady parts.
But you've earned the nickname PBA, you little manslut, so that stays.
Yours,
Kitty.
xxKK
WALK IN BATHTUBS...
So I was watching TV today and a commercial come on for walk in bathtubs.
They're easy access tubs for old people. You can get the seated version where you walk in, close the door behind you and fills up around you. Like sitting in a hot tub. OR you can get the automated version which is like a lawn chair. You lie on in and it lifts you into the bathtub in a lying position.
Why am I telling you about something that is clearly aimed at old people?
Well, I'll tell you.
You see when these commercials usually come on I just sort of laugh and go back to thinking about the shoes I just bought or finding some advil for my headache, that sort of thing. This time was different. I was in the middle of twitter stalking Siobhan (find her at http://twitter.com/siobhans13 or http://siobhanstevenson.blogspot.com/) And was quite involved with twitter-bugging her when the walk in tub advert came on.
And I was interested...
Like... I put aside my gossip hunting and actually paid attention. At first I was like meh. Commercial. Then I was like... hmm that looks pretty comfortable. Hmm.. I like baths. Hmm... I have bad knees, I could totally use something like that. Oohh It has massage jets too! Oooh it fills up in only 3 minutes. Oh look at that darling little shelf, I could put a book there and.....
whoa whoa whoa!
Who AM I???
Since when do my interests include walk in bath tubs instead of gossip? What's next? Dentures instead of blow jobs? Walkers instead of fast cars and motorbikes?
When did I turn into a grandma???
Who ever heard of getting banged in a walk in bathtub? Not sexy at all.
I need to do something young tonight. I need to load up on booze and do something stupid, like shots off some man candy, and then have crazy sex with someone too old or too young for me. Maybe throw in some disturbance of the peace and property damage...
Something that will convince me that even though my knees and back and elbows and hips and fingers are all old lady joints I am still 21 and just a kid.
ugh.
PBA needs to come through for me tonight....
They're easy access tubs for old people. You can get the seated version where you walk in, close the door behind you and fills up around you. Like sitting in a hot tub. OR you can get the automated version which is like a lawn chair. You lie on in and it lifts you into the bathtub in a lying position.
Why am I telling you about something that is clearly aimed at old people?
Well, I'll tell you.
You see when these commercials usually come on I just sort of laugh and go back to thinking about the shoes I just bought or finding some advil for my headache, that sort of thing. This time was different. I was in the middle of twitter stalking Siobhan (find her at http://twitter.com/siobhans13 or http://siobhanstevenson.blogspot.com/) And was quite involved with twitter-bugging her when the walk in tub advert came on.
And I was interested...
Like... I put aside my gossip hunting and actually paid attention. At first I was like meh. Commercial. Then I was like... hmm that looks pretty comfortable. Hmm.. I like baths. Hmm... I have bad knees, I could totally use something like that. Oohh It has massage jets too! Oooh it fills up in only 3 minutes. Oh look at that darling little shelf, I could put a book there and.....
whoa whoa whoa!
Who AM I???
Since when do my interests include walk in bath tubs instead of gossip? What's next? Dentures instead of blow jobs? Walkers instead of fast cars and motorbikes?
When did I turn into a grandma???
Who ever heard of getting banged in a walk in bathtub? Not sexy at all.
I need to do something young tonight. I need to load up on booze and do something stupid, like shots off some man candy, and then have crazy sex with someone too old or too young for me. Maybe throw in some disturbance of the peace and property damage...
Something that will convince me that even though my knees and back and elbows and hips and fingers are all old lady joints I am still 21 and just a kid.
ugh.
PBA needs to come through for me tonight....
Monday, January 10, 2011
PUT ME TO SLEEP PLEASE
Serious question.
Where did all the drowsy meds go?
Like, when I was a kid and I had to fly my mother gave me Sudafed because that shit would knock you out for a plane ride. And if I felt a little off I would get some Robituson and be out like a light. Or if I felt a bad cough coming on my mother would force me to take some Buckleys and, as nasty as that shit tasted, it would knock me and my flu on our asses.
Now whenever I take medication it has "Non-Drowsy" printed on it.
Like, thanks for the option Sudafed but I'd actually like some sleep now. Kthxbye.
I know that there is Ambien and Nyquil and a bunch of other sleeping aids out there but I don't want anything too strong. I just want that nice drowsy feeling that comes with cold medicine to drift away to sleep.
My knee fucking hurts, I pulled a muscle in my neck so that fucking hurts, my face hurts from various afflictions and my head hurts because my dog threw a tantrum that involved 45 minutes of skreechy whining and barking as well as one bite on the fatty part of my arm that realllly fucking hurt (I know you planned that you little mongrel. Guess what, I'm not giving you anymore of my cheez-its now)
Pretty much I'm falling apart.
So I took a bayer (because god forbid anywhere on this forsaken island actually sell TylenolPM) and my birth control (which I'm using to delay my period so I can use PBA*) and now I'm lying here an I don't want to take a bunch of crap I dont need like Nyquil but I need sleep. And despite the last tendrils of a nasty cough (that took over my lungs, got comfy, set up parliment and is refusing to give up power without a long hard fight) I can't take any cough or flu meds because they will just wake me back up.
Honestly, I need that drowsy magic.
Grrr.
Plus what am I going to do when I finally have a baby (after I finally meet a man who will finally have sex with me more than once and finally become my boyfriend and then finally put a ring on my finger and THEN finally have a baby) and we're traveling? I am not going to be that Momma with a crying baby on a 6 hour flight. I'm going to find a drowsy medicine and dose that kid up and then tell people how well behaved s/he is as if it's totally natural and not drug induced.
So, I'm in need of medications and sleep nd this combo is making me crabby. I'm going to go try to bore myself to sleep now. Talk to you kittens later.
*The last post was supposed to introduce a new cast member PBA but I got side tracked and lost my point (because I was drunk) I'll try to remedy the situation and give him a proper post but for now just know he's being useless and not at all like the PBA he is.
Where did all the drowsy meds go?
Like, when I was a kid and I had to fly my mother gave me Sudafed because that shit would knock you out for a plane ride. And if I felt a little off I would get some Robituson and be out like a light. Or if I felt a bad cough coming on my mother would force me to take some Buckleys and, as nasty as that shit tasted, it would knock me and my flu on our asses.
Now whenever I take medication it has "Non-Drowsy" printed on it.
Like, thanks for the option Sudafed but I'd actually like some sleep now. Kthxbye.
I know that there is Ambien and Nyquil and a bunch of other sleeping aids out there but I don't want anything too strong. I just want that nice drowsy feeling that comes with cold medicine to drift away to sleep.
My knee fucking hurts, I pulled a muscle in my neck so that fucking hurts, my face hurts from various afflictions and my head hurts because my dog threw a tantrum that involved 45 minutes of skreechy whining and barking as well as one bite on the fatty part of my arm that realllly fucking hurt (I know you planned that you little mongrel. Guess what, I'm not giving you anymore of my cheez-its now)
Pretty much I'm falling apart.
So I took a bayer (because god forbid anywhere on this forsaken island actually sell TylenolPM) and my birth control (which I'm using to delay my period so I can use PBA*) and now I'm lying here an I don't want to take a bunch of crap I dont need like Nyquil but I need sleep. And despite the last tendrils of a nasty cough (that took over my lungs, got comfy, set up parliment and is refusing to give up power without a long hard fight) I can't take any cough or flu meds because they will just wake me back up.
Honestly, I need that drowsy magic.
Grrr.
Plus what am I going to do when I finally have a baby (after I finally meet a man who will finally have sex with me more than once and finally become my boyfriend and then finally put a ring on my finger and THEN finally have a baby) and we're traveling? I am not going to be that Momma with a crying baby on a 6 hour flight. I'm going to find a drowsy medicine and dose that kid up and then tell people how well behaved s/he is as if it's totally natural and not drug induced.
So, I'm in need of medications and sleep nd this combo is making me crabby. I'm going to go try to bore myself to sleep now. Talk to you kittens later.
*The last post was supposed to introduce a new cast member PBA but I got side tracked and lost my point (because I was drunk) I'll try to remedy the situation and give him a proper post but for now just know he's being useless and not at all like the PBA he is.
Friday, January 7, 2011
PUT DOWN THE PDA, ITS TIME FOR PBA.
Thats right ladies* I said put down PDAs.
*if you are a man 1) you are crazy 2) you stop reading this post, and possibly this blog unless you are a) gay or b) entertained rather than offended by the following vulgarity.
Personal Digital Assistants
Parenteral Drug Association
Pharmacists Defense Association
Public Democrats of America
AND
Public Display of Affection....
I have something better.
It's something I like to call P.B.A
What does that stand for?
Well its not the Patrolmens Benevolent Association
or the Professional Bowlers Association
or the Phillippine Basketball Association (in fact its not an association at all)
or even the Professional Benefit Administrators.
No, it is much better than that.
Read my lips.
Penis. By. Appointment.
That's right.
Penis by appointment.
Now now now, before you get all haughty taughty and pissy poshy and start spouting about "morals" and "spiritual wellbeing" first of all, shut up, you want to (in the words of the oh so classy Jersey-Shore-ers) "get it in" just as much as the rest of us, secondly, if you dont... this is the WRONG blog for you. Lastly, I'm not talking "for hire" I'm talking "by appointment"
Big Difference.
For hire is like a prostitute... and a man who has no worldly attributes or qualifications to offer you except for a useful penis is not an attractive idea.
By appointment is like... one step up from a FB (which doesn't mean facebook on this website... it means FUCK BUDDY)
See FBs get complicated because someone gets attached and it gets messy because you're all "Heyyyy let's do it before I go out, but don't act like we did it, because I wanna see if I can get anyone else/better and I dont want you scaring them off or getting jealous because I really don't like you like that, I just like your penis/vagina like that."
And then they cry.
At least, that's been my experience.
But you see a PBA is much easier. It's practically a business agreement.
You have a friend. There's some sexual tension and you find them mildly-extremely attractive. They return the sentiment. You really don't have time for a real relationship/you think they're pretty but you don't really want to like... get to know them. So you agree to get together and have sex occasionally. In my experience it's better to do this with someone you have a mild friendship with because that insures you against turning into FBs or a desperate bitch or (god forbid) a girlfriend.
This does cause some problems though... because its then less likely that you guys will hang out often and this decreases the likelihood of frequent sexual encounters. But that's why god invented texting.
"hey u free. wanna s3x?"
"ya. cum by @ 4?"
"hows 5? I got 2 wurk til 4"
"kewl."
"fuck you then"
";)"
Oh yahhhh. Nothing turns me on like misspelled words of sexiness.
But honestly you have to set these things up via texted based communication devices. Saying to a man that you only want to see him for sex may sound like their ultimate fantasy but it's just so awkward when through the silence he realizes that you have no interest in him as a person but only as a plaything.
Okay this is making it sound bad.
Honestly its not as dirty as it sounds. But everyone has those friends who they never really hang out with one-on-one because you arent that close and you don't have the hidden agenda of wanting to date them but you wouldn't mind banging them.
Right?
I think I'm too tired to make sense anymore
that is... if I ever made sense at all.
xxKK.
*if you are a man 1) you are crazy 2) you stop reading this post, and possibly this blog unless you are a) gay or b) entertained rather than offended by the following vulgarity.
Personal Digital Assistants
Parenteral Drug Association
Pharmacists Defense Association
Public Democrats of America
AND
Public Display of Affection....
I have something better.
It's something I like to call P.B.A
What does that stand for?
Well its not the Patrolmens Benevolent Association
or the Professional Bowlers Association
or the Phillippine Basketball Association (in fact its not an association at all)
or even the Professional Benefit Administrators.
No, it is much better than that.
Read my lips.
Penis. By. Appointment.
That's right.
Penis by appointment.
Now now now, before you get all haughty taughty and pissy poshy and start spouting about "morals" and "spiritual wellbeing" first of all, shut up, you want to (in the words of the oh so classy Jersey-Shore-ers) "get it in" just as much as the rest of us, secondly, if you dont... this is the WRONG blog for you. Lastly, I'm not talking "for hire" I'm talking "by appointment"
Big Difference.
For hire is like a prostitute... and a man who has no worldly attributes or qualifications to offer you except for a useful penis is not an attractive idea.
By appointment is like... one step up from a FB (which doesn't mean facebook on this website... it means FUCK BUDDY)
See FBs get complicated because someone gets attached and it gets messy because you're all "Heyyyy let's do it before I go out, but don't act like we did it, because I wanna see if I can get anyone else/better and I dont want you scaring them off or getting jealous because I really don't like you like that, I just like your penis/vagina like that."
And then they cry.
At least, that's been my experience.
But you see a PBA is much easier. It's practically a business agreement.
You have a friend. There's some sexual tension and you find them mildly-extremely attractive. They return the sentiment. You really don't have time for a real relationship/you think they're pretty but you don't really want to like... get to know them. So you agree to get together and have sex occasionally. In my experience it's better to do this with someone you have a mild friendship with because that insures you against turning into FBs or a desperate bitch or (god forbid) a girlfriend.
This does cause some problems though... because its then less likely that you guys will hang out often and this decreases the likelihood of frequent sexual encounters. But that's why god invented texting.
"hey u free. wanna s3x?"
"ya. cum by @ 4?"
"hows 5? I got 2 wurk til 4"
"kewl."
"fuck you then"
";)"
Oh yahhhh. Nothing turns me on like misspelled words of sexiness.
But honestly you have to set these things up via texted based communication devices. Saying to a man that you only want to see him for sex may sound like their ultimate fantasy but it's just so awkward when through the silence he realizes that you have no interest in him as a person but only as a plaything.
Okay this is making it sound bad.
Honestly its not as dirty as it sounds. But everyone has those friends who they never really hang out with one-on-one because you arent that close and you don't have the hidden agenda of wanting to date them but you wouldn't mind banging them.
Right?
I think I'm too tired to make sense anymore
that is... if I ever made sense at all.
xxKK.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
ARE YOU SURE?...
Dear iTunes,
I love your work, I buy way too many songs/movies/tv shows off of you and spend way more money than I should entertaining myself but I have a serious bone to pick with you.
What's with the "are you sure?" sign that pops up everytime I want to buy or rent something. Like, I get that you put it there so idiotic people who have no right being on a computer let alone have an itunes account don't end up buying 3000 copies of the princess and the frog when they are searching for (the artist formerly known as) Prince. But couldn't you word it a little differently? Perhaps "confirm?" or "download?" something simple and less judgmental than "are you sure you want to buy this?" Because honestly when I see that little pop up my various family members pop into my mind saying "are you sure you want to eat that brownie?" or "are you sure you want to wear a bikini?"
God! Why don't you ask me whether I'm sure I want to be alive!
Okay.. perhaps that was a little dramatic. But seriously! It already takes me so long to pick a movie that I'm usually finished lunch (my excuse to sit down and watch said movie) before I've even gotten around to downloading it!
My life is so hard...
So please take this into account the next time you redesign your website.
Please and thank you,
yours,
Kitty.
xx
I love your work, I buy way too many songs/movies/tv shows off of you and spend way more money than I should entertaining myself but I have a serious bone to pick with you.
What's with the "are you sure?" sign that pops up everytime I want to buy or rent something. Like, I get that you put it there so idiotic people who have no right being on a computer let alone have an itunes account don't end up buying 3000 copies of the princess and the frog when they are searching for (the artist formerly known as) Prince. But couldn't you word it a little differently? Perhaps "confirm?" or "download?" something simple and less judgmental than "are you sure you want to buy this?" Because honestly when I see that little pop up my various family members pop into my mind saying "are you sure you want to eat that brownie?" or "are you sure you want to wear a bikini?"
God! Why don't you ask me whether I'm sure I want to be alive!
Okay.. perhaps that was a little dramatic. But seriously! It already takes me so long to pick a movie that I'm usually finished lunch (my excuse to sit down and watch said movie) before I've even gotten around to downloading it!
My life is so hard...
So please take this into account the next time you redesign your website.
Please and thank you,
yours,
Kitty.
xx
Monday, December 20, 2010
FUNNY STORY....
So I started this tiny blog with promises of daily witicisms and intelligent, funny posts.
I kept lists of blog ideas.
I'd be on the subway and I'd think of something funny and I'd write it down in the margin of my book or take a note in my blackberry.
OR
I'd be walking down the street and I'd see some sort of moral travesty and I'd think, wow, I bet I could write about this in such a captivating way that people will actually put down their iPad, turn off the reality shows and listen.
Here comes the funny part....
I forgot.
Oops, My B.
And I'm not kidding about the notes in my books and blackberry... but then I lost my page and put my blackberry through the washer.
Curses.
Anyways, I'm at the airport heading home for xmas break and since that's sort of the same situation as I was in when I started this blog I figure thats a promising re-start.
Right?
Ugh.
I kept lists of blog ideas.
I'd be on the subway and I'd think of something funny and I'd write it down in the margin of my book or take a note in my blackberry.
OR
I'd be walking down the street and I'd see some sort of moral travesty and I'd think, wow, I bet I could write about this in such a captivating way that people will actually put down their iPad, turn off the reality shows and listen.
Here comes the funny part....
I forgot.
Oops, My B.
And I'm not kidding about the notes in my books and blackberry... but then I lost my page and put my blackberry through the washer.
Curses.
Anyways, I'm at the airport heading home for xmas break and since that's sort of the same situation as I was in when I started this blog I figure thats a promising re-start.
Right?
Ugh.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
THE ONE THAT'S MEANT TO INSPIRE.
Of late, the only times I've bothered to update this thing is when I had a particularly irritating conundrum to ponder or when I feel bad for only updating negative things, so I post a positive update.
Not today.
Although I could easily bitch, bemoan and pity myself to the end of Manhattan and back, I won't.
Equally I will not be ranting, raving or spewing unicorn shaped particles of fairy dust over my life story.
No. Today (slash tonight, since it's almost midnight) I want to write just for the sake of writing.
That's why I started this thing. I had thoughts, people seemed interested in my thoughts and this is a forum when I can think out loud to as many people as there are on the internet (or as few as the ones actually interested)
Well today I'm going to talk a little bit about movies.
Sort of.
See, I have this thing where whenever I'm too still, too bored, too mad, too upset, too stressed, too stuck or too nothing, I go to the movies. It started because I was sitting in my producing for film class and I realized I hadn't seen a single movie the kids around me were talking about. They were throwing out producer names and budget figures and net income and box office ratings and... a lot of crap that I had no idea about. So I thought, okay, I'll go to more movies.
Two months later I have now seen 9 movies in theater, rented two movies on DVD, watched 11 movies on Netflix Instant and rented all four seasons of Wildfire (the abcFamily show about horse racing, woohoo!) My Netflix Instant queue has 38 movies ready to be watched and my DVD queue is up to 14.
But I still know nothing about net incomes or budget approval or whose in the red or in the black (there's such a thing, did you know that?) and frankly I couldn't really care right now. A movie should make you forget that crap.
When you see a good movie you should forget that you're in a smelly theatre and you shouldn't notice the text message that the idiot in front of you is typing. You should forget everything that came with you when you walked through those doors; the stress, the failed midterms, the boy problems, everything. A movie should let you drop those worries at the concession stand.
Don't worry, they'll still be there in 186 minutes when you get out.
Anyways, I'm getting off track.
The point is, movies should be good. And I saw one tonight that was... surprisingly great. I went to Morning Glory because I was tired at 8pm and I couldn't bear the thought of putting myself to bed before pm. Just because my knees are shot and my back is one slipped disc from a lifelong vicodin prescription, doesn't mean I should be in bed before my 10 year old cousin. I'm still a youthful kitten, not yet a bitter old sourpuss.
Anyways, I go to see Morning Glory and it's sort of a RomCom (but less Rom then Com) and it's relatable because it's about a girl trying to make it in a shitty economy (although I've never had to search for a job so that relate-ability not hitting me) and her dream job is producing for daytime TV (which I hope to never have to do) and despite all these things that should turn me off, I am so sucked into the world of Daybreak that by the end of the show I had abandoned my giant diet coke and was perched on the very edge of my velveteen seat waiting to hear the next word.
Literally perched.
And the plot is predicable yet the actors are so good that you forget about that and you are with them in the moment and the editing is so good that you are racing to keep up and no line falls flat and you're literally laughing out loud because they didn't just put the best parts in the previews, they saved those nuggets for you, the ticket holder. And it's just...
Great.
It's truly great.
And I get out of that theatre and I'm not tired anymore. I don't want to start producing for Daytime TV or date whats-his-face from the movie. I just want to be great.
I want to know who produced this movie and what their budget is and how much net versus gross they got and how the box office is doing and all those details because this was a great movie and I want to be a great producer who makes great movies so I want to know what these people did so I can learn to be as great as they are.
And that's corny and cheesy and so silly and I still am realistic, I know that there's a 1 in 304,098,070,230,001 chance that I will actually make all of my separate, and very lofty, dreams come true. But I don't care because I leave that theatre and my brain feels like its turned on for the first time in days and I have all these ideas flooding in and they have nothing to do with what I just watched for 95 minutes but they're there because of what I just watched for 95 minutes.
So I'm going to jot down a few of these ideas, continue to mull over them (at the gym tomorrow!) and start being great. Even if I have to take greatness in the form of little itty bitty baby stumble steps. Because right now being great doesn't mean being on Broadway or producing a blockbuster or writing the next best seller. Right now, great is knowing what the gross profit of Morning Glory is, and passing y GenEd classes, and graduating on time, and getting an applause at the end of the student play I'm doing right now and writing a blog about being inspired instead of about what a bitch my MugWug has been lately. So here I am.
Where are you?
Now I should put myself to sleep. Grandma still needs her beauty rest, especially if she's going to wake up in time to get to her GenEd class at 9am and remember to pack her sneakers for the gym after.
Hello Greatness.
Goodnight World.
xxKK.
p.s. MugWug actually isn't being a bitch this week. We're back to loving each other unconditionally. Marie on the other hand...
love you kittens. Be great.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
KITTY KAT IS A SAD PUPPY
So I woke up this morning with a cough like the rattle of death.
After several hacks I texted my friend to let her know I would not be in class and went back to sleep for several hours.
Woke up, hacked a lung.
Went back to sleep
Woke up, hacked a lung, drank some tea and tried to sleep again but decided that since it was 5pm I should probably get dressed and get my butt to my 6pm rehearsal.
Somewhere in the middle I had some wonderful dreams that pretty wonderful.
And once awake I felt pretty much okay. Other than the occasional booming chesty cough, I felt fine.
Sounds like my day was going pretty decently right?
Wrong.
So. I'm in rehearsal. And the phone rings. But I miss the call... because I'm in rehearsal. And I always silence my phone in rehearsal. It rings again. Missed again. And then I get a text accusing me of sending the calls to voicemail.
Psycho.
Anyways I reassure my friend Belle that I'm not ignoring her I'm just busy (hey look at that, my life doesn't stop when you aren't in it, shocker) and let her know I should be out of rehearsal by 9 or 10.
So I ask her whats up (i.e. why are you calling me after us not talking for ages?) and she says she wanted to get dinner but now it's too late. (to be specific she said "Tooooo lateeeee")
Okay, fine.
So I ask what she's up to later (look at me, being all mature and trying to still hang out despite her accusing me of being a bad and neglecting friend and etc etc) and she tells me she's going to a movie with MugWug.
My MugWug.
The same MugWug who I haven't seen since I had that "heart to heart" 9 days ago.
The same MugWug who doesn't understand why I think that he's been slowly replacing me with Belle despite the fact that he hasn't talked to me about anything but work or school for quite some time but sees her every damn day.
Did I mention that Belle is the same girl who used to go on and on about how she didn't respect my friendship with MugWug and how she didn't think it would last because we met by chance and not based on any common thing.
The same Belle who tried to get with MugWug and then talked shit about him for ages. The same Belle who made me pick sides between her and him (I took his)
But now he's taking hers.
But apparently he doesn't see why that hurts.
Anyways. She tells me theyre going out so, after rehearsal due to the fact that I feel like death from my sickness rearing its ugly head, and shitty from my "best friend" not talking to me for a week but seeing her every night and going out and because I HAVE NO OTHER PLANS, I go home.
Sit at home feeling shitty for a while.
Bemoan to my ever understanding and wonderful friends Siobhan and Lizz and then
dundundunn
MugWug calls.
And it goes something like this:
MugWug: "What are you doing?"
Kitty: "about to go to the grocery store" (for hot chocolate materials)
MW: "Why'd you leave?!?!?!" (you might think my punctation is crazy but you should have heard him)
K: "Leave? Leave where?" (genuine confusion)
M: "Belle told me you had rehearsal"
K " Yeah?"
M: "Where?"
K: "Downtown..."
M: "Then why'd you leave" (he lives downtown, I live midtown)
K: "I got out of rehearsal 3 hours ago...."
M: "Belle said you would get out at 11" (which would still be an hour earlier fyi)
K: "No I told her 9 or 10... I got out at 9"
Belle: "She definitely told me 11" (me = rage that once again he's put me on speakerphone without telling me)
K: "check your damn messages, I said 9 or 10"
M: "Oh. well okay."
We talked a bit more but nothing of substance. No apology from him for excluding me from him night plans / acting mad that I didn't stay downtown when he never gave me reason to / believing Belle over me / not talking to me for ages / putting me on secret speakerphone / etc.
And now I'm like pissed at Belle because I can't be sure if she did it on purpose but she drove a wedge between us that didn't need to be there. Especially after she'd already pushed such a large wedge between us already. Like did she really think I didn't get out til 11? Probably not... we went to the same acting school for 3 years, she knows we don't have rehearsal any later than 10 any day... ever.
Whatever. I'm trying not to be paranoid.
I'm trying not to be annoying and over react and turn this into a big deal.
But I can't help feeling like a tiny labrador puppy that's been kicked multiple times by the bitch her owner replaced her with and then put to the curb without a collar.
Kitty is a sad puppy.
I don't know.
I know this is partially the drugs talking and partially the deep psychological damage of many people abandoning me in my life and partially my need to be wanted but knowing that doesn't make it hurt any less.
Going into a nyquil induced coma now - hopefully something funny for you tomorrow.
xxKK
Psycho.
Anyways I reassure my friend Belle that I'm not ignoring her I'm just busy (hey look at that, my life doesn't stop when you aren't in it, shocker) and let her know I should be out of rehearsal by 9 or 10.
So I ask her whats up (i.e. why are you calling me after us not talking for ages?) and she says she wanted to get dinner but now it's too late. (to be specific she said "Tooooo lateeeee")
Okay, fine.
So I ask what she's up to later (look at me, being all mature and trying to still hang out despite her accusing me of being a bad and neglecting friend and etc etc) and she tells me she's going to a movie with MugWug.
My MugWug.
The same MugWug who I haven't seen since I had that "heart to heart" 9 days ago.
The same MugWug who doesn't understand why I think that he's been slowly replacing me with Belle despite the fact that he hasn't talked to me about anything but work or school for quite some time but sees her every damn day.
Did I mention that Belle is the same girl who used to go on and on about how she didn't respect my friendship with MugWug and how she didn't think it would last because we met by chance and not based on any common thing.
The same Belle who tried to get with MugWug and then talked shit about him for ages. The same Belle who made me pick sides between her and him (I took his)
But now he's taking hers.
But apparently he doesn't see why that hurts.
Anyways. She tells me theyre going out so, after rehearsal due to the fact that I feel like death from my sickness rearing its ugly head, and shitty from my "best friend" not talking to me for a week but seeing her every night and going out and because I HAVE NO OTHER PLANS, I go home.
Sit at home feeling shitty for a while.
Bemoan to my ever understanding and wonderful friends Siobhan and Lizz and then
dundundunn
MugWug calls.
And it goes something like this:
MugWug: "What are you doing?"
Kitty: "about to go to the grocery store" (for hot chocolate materials)
MW: "Why'd you leave?!?!?!" (you might think my punctation is crazy but you should have heard him)
K: "Leave? Leave where?" (genuine confusion)
M: "Belle told me you had rehearsal"
K " Yeah?"
M: "Where?"
K: "Downtown..."
M: "Then why'd you leave" (he lives downtown, I live midtown)
K: "I got out of rehearsal 3 hours ago...."
M: "Belle said you would get out at 11" (which would still be an hour earlier fyi)
K: "No I told her 9 or 10... I got out at 9"
Belle: "She definitely told me 11" (me = rage that once again he's put me on speakerphone without telling me)
K: "check your damn messages, I said 9 or 10"
M: "Oh. well okay."
We talked a bit more but nothing of substance. No apology from him for excluding me from him night plans / acting mad that I didn't stay downtown when he never gave me reason to / believing Belle over me / not talking to me for ages / putting me on secret speakerphone / etc.
And now I'm like pissed at Belle because I can't be sure if she did it on purpose but she drove a wedge between us that didn't need to be there. Especially after she'd already pushed such a large wedge between us already. Like did she really think I didn't get out til 11? Probably not... we went to the same acting school for 3 years, she knows we don't have rehearsal any later than 10 any day... ever.
Whatever. I'm trying not to be paranoid.
I'm trying not to be annoying and over react and turn this into a big deal.
But I can't help feeling like a tiny labrador puppy that's been kicked multiple times by the bitch her owner replaced her with and then put to the curb without a collar.
Kitty is a sad puppy.
I don't know.
I know this is partially the drugs talking and partially the deep psychological damage of many people abandoning me in my life and partially my need to be wanted but knowing that doesn't make it hurt any less.
Going into a nyquil induced coma now - hopefully something funny for you tomorrow.
xxKK
Thursday, November 4, 2010
WELL AT LEAST THE SHARPIE CAME OFF...
So today I had a midterm.
No big deal right?
Wrong.
See, I'm smart. Not to toot my own horn or anything but I'm not stupid. I love tests because I'm good at studying and learning and all that crap.
However today I was stressed for my test.
Why? (you might ask) Considering my IQ, great memory and my extensive knowledge of how to write all the answers on my pants without anyone noticing, why would I be stressed?
Well it started with n altercation with MugWug, two days before the test.
Okay, altercation is the wrong word. The altercation came later. See he called and wanted to hang out (which I was like woohoo! All my worries were unfounded! yay!)
So the next day (which was yesterday) I woke up all fresh faced and eager for the world and I made a yummy breakfast fauxlogna sandwich (fake sandwich meat yummmm) and I looked at my textbook, color coded flash cards and pile of fine point sharpie on my desk waiting to be made into an unstoppable study device. But then I remembered MugWug was coming over and, since he is one of the most judgemental people I know, I decided to tidy instead.
I loaded the dishwasher, took out the trash, swept the livingroom, put away my clothes, wiped down the counter tops and a whole other pleothra of chores. Quite pleased with my newly tidy home I turned back to the flashcards.
But...
then...
I played xbox instead.
Look. I'd just finished my chores it was time for a break. But after the break it was time to eat lunch. And then it was time for Law&Order: SVU (because I love Benson and Stabler and I get crabby if I go too long without seeing them) And then it was 4pm and... no sign of MugWug... a while later I get a message from him saying sorry, he got busy (which is fine, I totally understand that) and that he couldn't make it today (which is annoying but understandable still) and that maybe we could have a meeting later.
Meeting?
MEETING?
Here I was trying to clean up and get into a hang out mood for my "best friend" but the only reason he wants to see me is for work.
LAME FUCKING BALLS.
So I got a litttttle mad.
I didn't respond immediately because if I had I would have said something like "Fuck you and your fucking work you goddamn useless man-being, thanks for making me feel like we were friends again in order to use me to do more work. Next time you want a fucking meeting tell me that instead of tricking me by saying you wanted to hang out you goddamn motherfucking asswipe" instead of the diplomatic "oh no problem... didn't even know we were meeting today."
GRRRRR.
He's sick and tired and busy and I understand it's hard to make time for friends but don't trick me into doing work on our friend time and don't pretend we're friends if you can't ever make time for me. This isnt that big of a deal and I'll get over it in a few days it just rubs me the wrong way. Hard.
Think: Indian burn on your hoohah.
Anyways. I got mad.
So I decided to make myself a giant bowl of froyo, sorbet, pomagranant seeds and chocolate chips and sulked in front of the TV for several hours.
At 7pm I realized I had not done anywork for my midterm and I went into a panic.
I started to make flashcards but between my anger, my sugar coma and the distraction of SVU, NCIS and Hairspray (the movie) I got more sharpie on my body (ALL OVER MY BODY) then on the flashcards.
I finished making the cards at 2:30 am, showered, got into bed at 3:30am, was asleep by 4:00am and at 8:30am I left my house (luckily sharpie free) with sloppy flashcards, a fauxlogna sandwich and still wearing my pajamas.
So. Cute.
Anyways I think I aced the test but now I'm going to go home and sleep so hard and long that it will put bears in winter, coma patients AND dead people to shame.
xxKK
No big deal right?
Wrong.
See, I'm smart. Not to toot my own horn or anything but I'm not stupid. I love tests because I'm good at studying and learning and all that crap.
However today I was stressed for my test.
Why? (you might ask) Considering my IQ, great memory and my extensive knowledge of how to write all the answers on my pants without anyone noticing, why would I be stressed?
Well it started with n altercation with MugWug, two days before the test.
Okay, altercation is the wrong word. The altercation came later. See he called and wanted to hang out (which I was like woohoo! All my worries were unfounded! yay!)
So the next day (which was yesterday) I woke up all fresh faced and eager for the world and I made a yummy breakfast fauxlogna sandwich (fake sandwich meat yummmm) and I looked at my textbook, color coded flash cards and pile of fine point sharpie on my desk waiting to be made into an unstoppable study device. But then I remembered MugWug was coming over and, since he is one of the most judgemental people I know, I decided to tidy instead.
I loaded the dishwasher, took out the trash, swept the livingroom, put away my clothes, wiped down the counter tops and a whole other pleothra of chores. Quite pleased with my newly tidy home I turned back to the flashcards.
But...
then...
I played xbox instead.
Look. I'd just finished my chores it was time for a break. But after the break it was time to eat lunch. And then it was time for Law&Order: SVU (because I love Benson and Stabler and I get crabby if I go too long without seeing them) And then it was 4pm and... no sign of MugWug... a while later I get a message from him saying sorry, he got busy (which is fine, I totally understand that) and that he couldn't make it today (which is annoying but understandable still) and that maybe we could have a meeting later.
Meeting?
MEETING?
Here I was trying to clean up and get into a hang out mood for my "best friend" but the only reason he wants to see me is for work.
LAME FUCKING BALLS.
So I got a litttttle mad.
I didn't respond immediately because if I had I would have said something like "Fuck you and your fucking work you goddamn useless man-being, thanks for making me feel like we were friends again in order to use me to do more work. Next time you want a fucking meeting tell me that instead of tricking me by saying you wanted to hang out you goddamn motherfucking asswipe" instead of the diplomatic "oh no problem... didn't even know we were meeting today."
GRRRRR.
He's sick and tired and busy and I understand it's hard to make time for friends but don't trick me into doing work on our friend time and don't pretend we're friends if you can't ever make time for me. This isnt that big of a deal and I'll get over it in a few days it just rubs me the wrong way. Hard.
Think: Indian burn on your hoohah.
Anyways. I got mad.
So I decided to make myself a giant bowl of froyo, sorbet, pomagranant seeds and chocolate chips and sulked in front of the TV for several hours.
At 7pm I realized I had not done anywork for my midterm and I went into a panic.
I started to make flashcards but between my anger, my sugar coma and the distraction of SVU, NCIS and Hairspray (the movie) I got more sharpie on my body (ALL OVER MY BODY) then on the flashcards.
I finished making the cards at 2:30 am, showered, got into bed at 3:30am, was asleep by 4:00am and at 8:30am I left my house (luckily sharpie free) with sloppy flashcards, a fauxlogna sandwich and still wearing my pajamas.
So. Cute.
Anyways I think I aced the test but now I'm going to go home and sleep so hard and long that it will put bears in winter, coma patients AND dead people to shame.
xxKK
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