100 WEIRD THINGS THAT I'VE DONE/DO

To be fair I'd like to point out that the majority of these weird things probably involve other people. Hence I am not alone in my weirdness.

Here goes nothing.

You're Welcome. 

1) Read an entire thesaurus. Don't ask why. It's a long story.
2) Keeping with the reading theme: Read all of the Redwall books in order of publishing, reverse order, in chronological order (by book topic not publishing date) and I made a family tree showing all the characters and how they're related.
3) Went through a phase where I thought I was a designer and I made bracelets and crappy purses out of cut up jeans. Many a good jean was lost to my misplaced dreams.
4) Sometimes I force Liz to play footdance with me. It's where we put our feet together and dance.
5) To this day my favorite candy is york peppermint patty on top of a Reese's peanut butter cup.
6) Eat pizza backwards.
7) I own 3 bibles. 1 is pink and gold. 1 has both Latin and English translations. 1 has extensive notes. Oh and I don't believe in God.
8) When I get really stressed or nervous my nose bleeds. Sometimes it gushes and sometimes it trickles. It always is gross,
9) Worked out a very elaborate mathematical equation to make sense of the LOST numbers. In the end it turned out there was no sense to be had and I was very upset. Fucking magnetic polar bear shit.
10) My best friend in high school once convinced me Advil were chewable. So I chewed one. DEATH.
11) When no one is around I talk as if there are so that neighbors/delivery guys won't think I'm a sad and lonely person.
12) When I forget to act normal and I am alone I make little noises that are not quite song nor speech but more of a secret communication that only stuffed animals and imaginary friends can understand.
13) Learnt sign language from a book.
14) I can say dinosaurs fucking and Bitch, make me a sandwich in sign language. Oh and Harmony.
15) Made a boy cry in a particularly brutal field hockey match. I was 12.
16) On occasion me and my band of cohorts have been known to adopt fake accents, names and persona's. I'd like to say it's the actor in us but really we just crazy.
17) I have been known, on occasion, to dissect ravioli and take the cheese out of the middle before eating the pasta.
18) When I was a child I had 3 imaginary friends.
19) I named them Andrew, Sandy and Rocko. (It was a love triangle. Even at 5 years old I understood where my love life was headed)
20) When I'm drunk I like to hide in closets/bushes/under stairwells to see if anyone will miss me and try to find me.
21) Always take a journal in my carry on luggage.
22) Never write in it.
23) Been hiccuping for 7 years.
24) I made my barbies go to 4th base before I did (waaay before [barbie was a slut])
25) I'm extremely OCD about doorknobs. I cant touch one without touching something else first.
26) Talk to my dog as if she were a real person.
27) Get mad if someone talks to her in baby talk. (It demeans her intelligence)
28) Went Vegan.
29) Sleeping standing up.
30) Take a GMAT practice test for fun.
31) Put everything onto a post it note.
32) Always carry a sharpie.
33) Draw on EVERYTHING with said sharpie.
34) Forced a suitor to fill out an application to be my boyfriend. He passed (barely). It was a brief affair.
35) Take pictures any injury that bleeds.
36) Did THIS.
37) Drank out of THESE 
38) Commented on a facebook status 208 times in 30 minutes. Lizzie has a lot to do with this one.
39) Bought Mario PJ pants
40) And pink cat pants.
41) Rarely wear any pants.
42) Drunkenly impersonate a french bulldog.
43) Name everything Bob. Everything.
44) Purr.
45) Installed red lighting in my bedroom. What can I say. I'm inspired by the red light district?
46) On the same theme: I may or may not have under bed restraints.
47) Holographic Jesus FTW.
48) Bought and played with Lego. At age 22.
49) Had a band. We called ourselves Plaid. We had two great songs. I was 5.
50) I was given a poster of Lord of the Rings and had to tape over Orlando Blooms eyes because I was convinced he was watching me. And that he was so mad that I liked Aragon better than Legolas.
51) Made up my own language. (Sort of)
52) Learnt Elvish
53) Wrote my diary in Latin.
54) Wore 3 watches. At the same time. One of them was a Minnie Mouse watch. I was 16.
55) Give fake names at Pinkberry.
56) Started an anonymous blog.
57) Then only let my friends read it....
58) Eat plain seaweed right out of the bag.
59) Eat uncooked oatmeal.
60) Wrote a musical on time travel. The number about Christopher Columbus was my best work to date.
61) Assumed the personality of a french doomsday weather man.
62) Watched How To Train Your Dragon twice in a row.
63) Cried every single time that Hiccup gets hurt.
64) Solo dance party!
65) Turned my livingroom into a Dharma Bunker for a Lost party.
66) Slept in Lizzies yard with Will when we were 16. It rained.
67) Named a collection of left over beers. They became a little beer family. Until the fateful day that Candi drank Fredrick. Sad times.
68) Cry at weddings. Doesn't matter whose it is. I just start bawling.
69) Nutella & Goldfish. Nuff said.
70) Slept in my living room for several months because I saw a roach heading in the general direction of my bedroom.
71) Grafittied a hedgehog on a skateboard onto every desk and locker I've ever been assigned.
72) Entered a healthy lunchbox competition. Won.
73) Started painting what I was sure was my epic masterpiece. Never finished. Hung the drop cloth on the wall instead.
74) Whistle like a bird.
75) Can't snap
76) Pretended to be allergic to onions.
77) Turned out to actually be allergic to onions.
78) Lip sync to Pandora when I'm at work.
79) Ditto for *subtle* chair dancing. Sometime I just gotta jam, man.
80) Type in rhythm to whatever I'm listening to. Sorry coworkers.
81) Got cracked out on caffeine pills and didn't sleep for 3 days.
82) EVERYTHING I DID THOSE THREE DAYS
83) Ordered a grilled cheese to get delivered to a hospital when I was injured and hungover.
84) Railed off of night club seat. Not sanitary at all.
85)I always sleep on the same side of the bed. Despite how difficult it may to get into that side.
86) Photoshopped a picture of a male friend to make him look like a drag queen/
87) Used a rainbow glow in the dark condom.
88) bought a 4XL Hockey Jersey from a high school league.
89) Stripper pole in my living room.
90) Drank a prairie oyster. Look it up. Most disgusting shot ever.
91) Broke my wrist playing beerpong
92) Play with David's Bridal online wedding planner despite not being engaged.
93) Pretended to be fatally ill (complete with costume and makeup) to avoid inviting a boy into my messy house.
94) Cream Cheese & Vanilla Ice Cream. It was a low point.
95) "Fixed my shower." .. with packing tape and zip ties.
96) Collected bottle caps. Did nada with them.
97) Am 22 years old and still regularly buy board games.
98) I once had a ghost
99) I named him Bradley. We were tight, yo.
100) I acted so much like a cat that it became a my nickname and the inspiration for this blog.

I know that some of these are super lame but I defy you to make a list of 100 things about yourselves! This shit is hard. Also my life is super shamble-y right now so I'm sure I'll get a good post up soon.

xxKK

16 EVERYDAY GROOMING MADE DIFFICULT BY BEING DRUNK

1) showering. It is mad hard to hold on to that wine glass when you're drunk. and wet.

2) painting nails. what do you mean this doesn't belong on my face? 


3) Straightening hair. so burned. so so so burned.

4) clothing. i'd rather be naked.

5) MIRRORS ARE OPTICAL ILLUSIONS

56) choosing perfume. all i smell is sangria.

7) lipstick. go without.

8) time management. I'm supposed to do all of the above in less than 4 hours??

9) Hair brushing. Shit hurts, yo.

10) walking in heels. or walking at all.

11) earrings are tiny knives.

12) moisturizer? in ma eyes.

13) liquid eyeliner.... yeahhhh. no. just no.

14) bronzer. oops now I look like a guido.

15) blush. oops now I look like a guido with rosacea.

16) any hair styling at all. after hours of washing and straightening and pulling and brushing I still walk out looking like Ke$ha after a night of drinking in a hurricane.

..or maybe just normal Ke$ha hair... 

SICK AS A DOG BUT STILL A KITTY KAT

Let me let you know how this week has been going so far:

Monday: Go to work in morning. Normal stress and life loathing. Mid morning I start having some weird heart palpitations. Got very lightheaded. Convinced myself I was having a heart attack. Start freaking the fuck out. Text Lizz to tell her I'm dying (I had to let her know I wanted a mulitmedia presentation at my funeral... it's the classy thing to do) And then I webMD my symptoms. Usually this means I end up with a proclaimation of cancer or DEATH but this time it said that I was probably having a panic attack. And considering the origin of the disorder I didn't think it was totally unlikely. So I chalk it up to me being a crazy and go back to work. Heart keeps pounding a little crazy but whatevs. Then we get lunch and suddenly I feel completely nauseated.

Look it up. It's nauseated not nauseous.

I feel sicker and sicker and finally tell my boss and leave.

May or may not have vomited on the streets of manhattan.

Spend the rest of the day in bed and not feeling awesome. Definitely not awesome.

Tuesday: Wake up at 5 am in a fevered nightmare involving several of my exes and a bear. I also think there may have been a maze as well. Fall asleep again. Wake up again and vomit and make some eggs and vomit and try to get dressed and then all of a sudden realize that it's 1:30 in the afternoon and I have 3 missed texts from my boss. Pretty much they think I'm dead. Let them know I'm alive and then go back to bed. Several more vomits and a feast with lizz later I head to bed.

Wednesday: Wake up late again with boss's blessing to take day off. Don't vomit and manage to pack up a bunch of stuff for moving. Decided to end my night with pinkberry and Gossip Girl. Oh and vodka. Oops drunk now. Clearly I'm feeling better but I have to admit I still don't feel awesome but I promise myself that this is the last day home. Tomorrow I vow to buck up and hold back my dry heaving and go to work. Despite how much work I have to do at home I need to get back into work before I actually have a stress induced breakdown.

Because weirdly spending time at work keeps me from being stressed about everything I have going on at home.

So that there is that.

This wasn't funny or inspirational or witty but I just wanted to tell you that I haven't been awesome hence why I haven't been around to be awesome via interwebs. And that life has been stressful. Hence the vodka and gossip girl that I needed tonight.

Now time for bed before I miss my alarm again and spend another day on the couch.

xxKK

THINGS I'VE LEARNED WHILE LIVING IN NEW YORK

This is a... brief... list of skills/knowledge that I've acquired since moving to New York.

1) walking and eating anything. Literally anything. I'm not just talking about your run of the mill pizza on the go or sandwich on the subway. I'm talking about some seriously complicated cusine. Like soup on the sidewalk, froyo on the FDR and nachos... well I can't think of any alliteration for nachos but seriously do you know how hard it is to juggle walking in manhattan and eating nachos?

2) Texting an walking. Now usually I hate this. But only on other people. See... I have developed what can only be described as a bat-like sonar. I can dodge any crowd of drunken Knicks fans and still not misspell debauchery. (a word I often need to use)

3) Being drunk and walking. Are you sensing a theme? You see... in New York you must be a stellar walker.  And being drunk is often a must. So learning to stumble home in 5 inch heels without help and without falling on your ass. Hell you can get get chlamydia from the streets of new york...

4) Fake flowers are a lazy girls best friend. I like the plastic yellow hydrangeas that are in my bathroom. They brighten up the place and add some privacy from nosy neighbors. And I never need to water them. It's win-win-win.

5) Never underestimate the power of a bouncer. Make good friends with bouncers. I have gotten so many awesome things from my security friendships. Everything from getting douchebags thrown out to free shots to that one time that I sent bobby on a wild goose chase to find my glasses. (they were on the bar)

6) One night stands are never as fun as you think they'll be. One week stands are much better.

7) Starbucks gives $0.54 refills for any size iced black coffee or tea. This knowledge is golden.

8) 100 calorie packs don't really count as a diet snack if you eat 3 of them in a row.

9) It always good to have multiple delis nearby. That way when you need your second hangover sandwich & powerade combo you don't have to face the same people twice. Such judgement can be rough the morning after a night of tequilla shots.

10) Never underestimate good friends.

11) Or friends who can drive (moving anyone?)

12)  I have a thing for guys with blue eyes.. (okay technically this has nothing to do with NY but I realized it while I've been here and it's kind of scary how many blue eyed wonders I've fallen for -> Charlie, PBA, Ninja, Main Squeeze, Will, Ken, Dr. C, 3 one night stands and a cop named Damien.... okay a few of those weren't exactly "fallen for" worthy but still. Thats a looooot of blue eyes.)

13) When I start yawning it's time for bed... oh wait.. that's now.

To be continued...

xxKK

WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN YOU'RE EXPECTING (A BREAKDOWN)

As someone who has experienced a range of breakdowns....

(         including, but not limited to:

1) I lost my wallet and someone charged $23 dollars at mcdonalds

2) drunk friend threw up on my suede shoes

3) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles aren't real 

4) boyfriend emailed his sister about how much he doesn't love me and left his email open on my computer so I read it on my birthday. 

5) dealing 2 years of grief primarily with cheap booze and easy men

6) losing my blackberry. This is remarkably high on the seriousness level. 

                                   )

...I feel that I have a pretty good handle on them and thus am a perfect person to be the new officially unofficial leading expert on the pros and cons of having a minor to severe nervous breakdown. 

PRO: This is the perfect time to break out all of the overly dramatic phrases you never get to use. 

"I'll never be happy again!" 

"That skirt was the key to my happiness!" 

"You will rue the day that you crossed [insert your full, potentially dramatically enhanced, name] 

CON: People might start hiding the knives 

PRO: You won't ever be expected to slice your own tomatoes again! 

CON: The endless, simultaneous hysterical laughing and crying can get really tiring. 

PRO: No-one will be able to judge you if you run around naked and sobbing 

CON: This may lead to you thinking it is always acceptable to run around naked and sobbing.

"Officer, it's fine. My roommate told me it's totally acceptable to run around naked... I'm having a breakdown!" -ARRESTED- 

PRO: You can lay in bed for hours upon hours and instead of calling you lazy people will probably tell you everything is alright and even bring you snacks and entertainment. 

CON: You might have to sleep without sheets when people remove them for fear of you hanging yourself. 

PRO: Definite potential legal drug use. 

CON: No one will find your witty jokes about how much homework makes you want to kill yourself funny anymore. 

"Someone get the bathtub ready... when I'm done reading this chapter I'll be paper cutting myself to death." 

If you don't get the bathtub joke then... maybe you shouldn't be reading this blog. Clearly you're too normal and adjusted. 

PRO: Sometimes breakdowns lead to important revelations about yourself 

I don't really need a man to be happy.

CON: Which sometimes lead to another breakdown..

which is good because no one will ever love me again... 

If you are in the midst of experiencing a nervous breakdown there are a few tips I have found helpful:

DO -

- wear pants. despite your strongest urges. no one respects an argument made by a pantsless person.

- avoid ice cream. Ben & Jerrys now makes frozen greek yogurt so, while they probably are both just as bad for you, you won't feel like a total fat ass slob after devouring a whole pint. 

- have a stuffed animal. 1) they never talk back or tell you it's all in your head 2) they're huggable and 3) it's hard to stay that upset when you have a soft fluffy thing to soak up your tears.  It's like a pet. Except it always loves you and won't ever pee on your rug. 

- listen to Josh Groban. First you'll be all I CRY ALL OF THE TEARS! And then you'll realize how douchey and ridiculous the music is and you'll be like ROFL, douchebaggery. 

- Eat. You're probably hungry. 

- Bathe. You're probably dirty.

- Call someone you rarely talk to. They'll already be so freaked out that you even called them that they won't think it's that weird that you're having a breakdown. I usually pick my Dad. 

Later when they ask you can say you were drunk and playing blackout truth or dare. 

DONT - 

- listen to the OneRepublic station on pandora. If you didn't want leap off your balcony in a white flowing dress before, you will after. Stick to pop of the 90s, Josh Groban and TLC. And remember than the majority of jumpers end up paralyzed, not dead. 

- listen to, hum or sing any of Matchbox Twenty's "Unwell." 

- say/scream/write "I'M NOT INSANE!!!!" 

Most importantly.. don't do anything stupid. Much like the world mourns dinosaurs and the lost city of Atlantis, your friends, family and people you don't even realize love you would be devastated if you were gone. Family has a genetic inability to stop loving you (lucky!) - Friends have chosen you (wow you must be pretty special) - somebody out there is definitely fantasizing about you (think about how hot you must be and disregard the awkwardness of someone masturbating to you) and, despite how horrible the world can be and how mean people can be, there is definitely at least one person who can't get you off their mind. 

And remember, people don't remember the ordinary. No one says Wow.. I just love how that painting is exactly like every other painting. Weird is Wonderful. Unique is the only way to be. Crazy is the new Cool. 

So go forth. Prosper. Make smiles and laughter and witty jokes about death that people won't take the wrong way. 

Be happy. Stay crazy. 

And get some sleep because 99% of my breakdowns occur after a night of unrest.

I find a nightcap of Everclear and an orgasm to be quite helpful in putting me to sleep. 

xxKK 

p.s. a special thanks goes out to Lizz and NP who have both seen first hand how manic I can be yet still love me. If I can get away with singing a never ending song narrating everything I do and everything I think (from I need to peeeeeee to I want to hang myself up with a rope made of hair)  I'm pretty sure you're in the clear. 

A PLOT IS HATCHED

I just want you all to know that as I write this I am sitting on my couch next to a giant stuffed ducky and wearing a pair of bunny ears.
Alone.

Happy Fucking Easter.

I haven't even eaten any chocolate today. Sad times. But I'm going to pretend that it's still really fucking awesome. Because I'm here. And I'm awesome.

Clearly.

ANYWAYS. I didn't come here to talk about how I pretty much spent the whole day alone (on easter) and that the only easter treats I got were ones I bought  myself. But enough about that.

Last time we spoke I was telling you that I had finally conquered the conquest that is PBA.

Well after that wondrous foray into the unknown I decided upon a course of action. You see. Before PBA and I were all sexy friends and whatnot we sort of, I dunno, liked each other. And after having sex with him and then sitting up for hours talking I realized... I might still like him. Like... we have fun. And he gets my humor. And he never gets insulted when I fuck with him. He likes it when I fuck him. And he legitimately makes me happy. He seems to give a shit. Like... he cares when I'm upset.

So. This makes me think. I could like him. Really like him. And if I can like him the way I used to maybe a little bit of the space in my heart that's filled with Ninja can get hollowed out and then filled up with PBA! And then I can start to work on loving someone who isn't married and doesn't make me obsess, cry and literally pull my hair out on a regular basis.

This sounds stupid.

And like a dumb girl idea.

But I swear I have good intentions.

1) no more lusting after married men. (score for karma!)
2) new lusting after a man who makes me happy.
3) said new man is actually a plausible (albeit unlikely) match.

I'm probably going home for summer which gives me 3 months. 3 months in which for once we will (probably) both be single and in the same place. And maaaaybe he'd want to join me in a little experiment I'd like to call "Maybe Kitty Can Be Happy."

Ugh who knows.

Lets be honest. The guy already got the good part of the package why would he want all that messy exclusivity and monogamy? Ugh

I guess we shall see.

I'll come up with something funny for y'all laters but that's all for now.

Enjoy your easter goodies and don't get too much of a belly ache!

xxKK

PLAYTIME WITH PBA

Well.. We might need a new nickname for PBA.

At first the nickname discribed our intended relationship. And when that relationship idea failed it was left to brand him as the little slut of a tease that he was.

But now we've hooked up.

Thats right! Bring on the applause! After months, nay, YEARS of waiting for him to follow up on his promises of sexcapades I finally nailed the illusive PBA.

Okay but lets back up. 1) I want to set the scene for you guys... can't just jump to the main event! Like a fine wine this shit deserves some time and appreciation. 2) Right now I know you little deviants are imagining some sexy tryst with hand cuffs and duct tape and whipped cream... (or is that just me?)... but instead this was actually kind of romantic and wonderful.

So something I don't think I've really told you about PBA is that we've actually had a semi romantic relationship in the past. It wasn't always about getting laid. We used to say that if we were ever single and together that we could make it work. And in the years that have come since then we've seen each other less, talked less and become more of... sex friends.

Who never have sex.

Until I showed up at a party this weekend and, like a knight in a shining grey suit, he was standing there in a perfect halo of light.

Fucking flood lights are cool, man.

Anyways. I had known in advance that he'd probably be there (don't worry this wasn't Ninja at a bar part 2) but I wasn't expecting him to look so damn sexy. He was rolling classy in sexy pressed jeans, a button down and a sweet suit jacket. Mmm. Barney from HIMYM is right... a man in a suit (even just the jacket) is a sexy beast of a man.

So I give him a a hug and make sure to step into the light so he can appreciate how sexy I look (and damn... I looked sexxxxy)

And then, as to not be a clingy desperate stalker, I venture off to the party.

We'll about 5 minutes in I realize that I don't know anyone except PBA and my two friends, who were supposed to be my rides and are now getting waaaasted.

Well, shit.

Decide that maybe drinking is a bad idea since I might be attempting to drink a car for the first time in 2 years or walking home. Grab a water and take up a post watching these strangers get more wasted than freshmen at frat rush.

PBA comes and grabs some couch with me. And in one part of my mine I'm like OMG I'M GOING TO TO TOTALLY HAVE SEXY TIME WITH HIM AT LAST.
But in the other side I realize that it's actually really great catching up with him. We spend a few hours just talking about everything from work to... well actually just work because we're both so busy. And as we're talking we're getting closer and closer and I'm letting my "I don't need to show physical affection because I'm too cool for emotions" facade fall and I'm touching his arm (a clear sign of affection) and playing with my hair (flirting 101) and he, instead of rejecting this like I expect, puts his arm around me and suddenly we're snuggling.

IN PUBLIC.

I know this sounds weird, but do you guys understand how amazing that is?

To have a sober cuddle session in public?! (he was sober too)

It's something that I can't remember happening since... since Charlie. That's a long time. A long time indeed...

So we're cuddling and it's late and he tells me he has to go because he has to be up really early. So that's a downer. But he offers me a right home... which I guess is something. Better than car theft or walking.

So he's driving me home and I keep hoping that he runs out of gas or something so that I can spend more time with him.

Who the fuck am I???  What are all these emotions?


BAD EMOTIONS. GET BACK IN YO' CAVE.


Anyways he starts slowing down as he gets into my lane and I realize he doesn't want to drop me off.
It's like all of my 12 year old drams come true.

So he drives past my driveway. Goes to the little circle at the end of the lane to turn around but instead just turns off the car. And so we start talking some more. And then it happens. He lets go of my hand (oh yeah, he was holding my hand) and reaches over and kisses me.

And I wish that I could say I stayed calm and classy but I pretty much jumped onto him. I was just so excited that it was happening! And so we made out for quite some time. Then he tells me, with a sad face, that he didn't bring a condom.

SLUTSOMATIC TO THE RESCUE.

I just happened to have my extra thin sensitive Durex on me.

Safe Sex FTW.

We climb into the back seat (oh yeah, keep in mind that we're in a jeep right now... how sweet valley high, right?) And we get down to it. And I forgot how awkward it is to have sex in a car! We fumbled for a while before getting into a groove.

Into a glorious groove.

Where I may, or may not, have said "Oh my god, I'm having sex with PBA"

...I would be more embarrassed but apparently he truly enjoyed that little exclamation...

And then he sort of threw out his back. (yeah... it was that kind of sex)

So that sort of stopped the action for a while. But while we took a break and hung out naked in the back seat. He gave me a back rub (which is pretty much my favorite thing ever) and we talked about our lives and about our hopes, dreams and worries.

Yes. It was that kind of sappy lovey thing.

And it was beautiful.

We just hung out and were happy together. Haven't felt that way in a long time.

So after a few hours of hanging out (after he had said he had to be home so much earlier) we finally decide to clamber back into the front seat and get dressed. At this point I realized I'm on the edge of a second post-sex breakdown and I try to post pone him leaving for so long. After an extra hour I realize that it's officially ridiculous. It's almost 6am... the time he was supposed to be waking up. So I let him drop me off and I, semi tearfully say goodbye.

But unlike with Ken this time I was sad because I really might like this guy.

For once I felt happy with a guy and I didn't have to be drunk or secretive or anything. It was just naturally wonderful.

And the sex was amazing.

So I guess that's something to be thinking about.. Ugh speaking of late it's late now I need to sleep but there's one last bit to this story so keep your eyes on the horizon for the last bit of vacation gossip.

xxKK

WEEKEND GETAWAY / THE POST-SEX BREAKDOWN THAT WAS

I promise that I will tell you the rest of the Niko story soon but if I try to write this blog in a strictly chronological order then it may never get told. Lets face it. I have the attention span of a goldfish.

Anyways. I came home this weekend. Not for any particular reason, just because my father offered to pay for it and who am I to turn down free airfare? And I'm so used to coming home and raging my face off and seeing a million different people and sleeping with a little less than a million people and just having an awesome me-centered time.

Well, I didn't really tell anyone I was coming home and then I got back and expected to be like "surprise! love me!" but instead it was sort of lame. Like I still raged my face off. But it wasn't what I expected. I spent my first 7 hours at home lying on my bed and singing along to Josh Groban. Finally got to dinner with a friend... one drink turned into 5 and then the night really began. Hit a pre-drink where a rousing game of Never Have I Ever revealed to everyone that there is very little I've never done. 2 bottles of vodka later we roll into town and it's like... dead.

That doesn't stop us from grabbing some drinks and some shots and moving to another bar where it isn't so dead. And I'm wasted and smiley and everything is good when I see one of my guy friends who does know I'm home. I see he's with a little group of our friends so I run over and give him a huge hug and when I step back I see the 4th person in the group.

Ninja.

Who then asks me where his hug is.

So I give it to him but I feel like I've been hit with a sledgehammer. Like... he's never out. Ever. I didn't expect this. So a bit of my drunk slips away.

Can't let that happen.

More shots, more drinks, double fisting. All the way, baby.

So at this point I'm sort of toying with the line between fun drunk and emotional drunk. And Ninja, being the wonderful man he can be asks whats wrong and is being so nice and I find out that the earlier upset we had was pretty much all in my head. That he didn't realize how upset I was. That I'm basically a big baby. So that's good. And we're good. It's all good. And then his wife pops up.

Death.

5 mins later he's grinding up on her and I'm sucking back my drink and someone else's as well.

This inevitably leads to me telling crying in public and telling two people who don't even know me that well that I'm in love with Ninja. Mortifying. One can only hope they were as drunk as me and forget. So I cry. Drink. Cry more. Then start my journey home. Which is where I run into the guy I hugged before (and thus he shall be called Ken) And Ken wants to hang out. SO we are going to go back to his place but our ride is really wasted so we walked to a nearby house instead. As soon as the tenants of the house go to bed I fuck Ken on the living room floor.

By fuck I mean we tried but being as intoxicated as we were it was more of an awkward messy bump'n'grind.

Wake up fully dressed next to a naked Ken a few hours later. I'm fucking freezing, I can't believe I've slept with him and I'm about on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Ken wakes up and is sober enough to go grab his bike to drive us home. The whole way I'm blabbering like an idiot and I can't tell if its the breakdown or if I'm still drunk or if maybe I'm just a fucking crazy person.

He drops me at home and I am literally acting like a fucking nutbag. I'm all "I hope you still respect me, I hope I'm not pregnant, please don't tell anyone, are you ashamed of me??" and Ken's laughter is slowly turning from haha (you're funny) to haha (you might kill me in a minute)

Got home. Cried for an hour. Sent overly dramatic facebook messages to Lizz and Shiv. Finally get to sleep at 8am. Wake up at 10 am, FUCK NO. Wake up at 12 and finally shower off all the vodka and scrub off the smell of condoms.

Honestly.. those fucking things like permeate your skin. I swear I thought my dad was going to be able to smell the sex on me.

I calm down a little bit.

See... I wasn't really upset about having sex with Ken. Let's be honest, I've made worse decisions before. But I just never thought of him that way and I was so upset about Ninja, to then go fuck his friend. Ugh. He's never going to love me if I keep being such a giant whore.

Not that he'd love me regardless.

But still.

I don't think I was emotionally stable for sex with someone that I didn't have that sort of relationship with. On one hand I was like haha I don't need Ninja I can get anyone to have sex with me! And on the other hand it was like.... Omg... I'll have sex with anyone...

Arg oh well.

PBA helped me get over it the next night.

But lets save that tidbit of gossip for another time ;)...

xxKK

THIS HEART, IT FRACTURES

We interrupt this blog to bring you a non-humorous emotion update:

So Ninja and I have been chit chatting for a few weeks now. Well... for quite some time. But he's married and I respect that so I've been keeping it strictly friendly. Every single time I feel that it's getting too far or crossing a line I pull back. I have done nothing wrong. 

But now that it's only a few days until I'm home for the weekend and it's Tori's birthday he's being horrible to me. And not like... aggressively mean but like... not talking to me, making me feel guilty or bothersome for trying to have a conversation with him. 

And I'm over it. 

Because I could handle loving someone who didn't love me back and I could handle supporting his marriage despite my feelings and being the one who backed away from the inappropriate conversations but I can't handle him using the marriage as some sort of weapon. It's like he's putting more and more pressure on my heart and now it's starting fracture and it fucking sucks.

I can find another guy to talk to, another guy to hook up, another guy to obsess over. 

But he has my heart and he's treating it like shit. 

I feel like shit. 

If I wasn't at work I'd be elbow deep in ice cream and tears. 

I guess my OneRepublic pandora station is't really helping.... 

I was just holding onto some small hope that maybe, just maybe, if I was good enough and worked hard enough and stayed around that maybe one day in the future he might be mine. It's not as if I was sitting at home waiting for him but it was always in the back of my mind.  I supported his marriage, his career choices, I've never doubted or criticized anything he did. Yet when I go on a date he doesn't talk to me. I have an actual problem and he can't be bothered to care. And when I just want to talk, like the friends I thought we were, he throws his wife in my face like I should be ashamed or guilty or something. 

So I'm withdrawing. I'm not going to try. I refuse to go on offense or defense. Right now I'm Switzerland. And maybe some day I'll love someone the way I love him. And maybe I won't. 

Either way it has to be better than this emptiness. 

xxKK

ONE NIGHT WITH NIKO

After the ordeal that is The Weekend That Was I took a little break from fun times. I re-evaluated my life and decided that perhaps the time for dragging drunk randos home has come to an end.

We'll see how long that lasts.

At first everything was going swimmingly - I was busy with work, happily crafting away in my spare time. I even read like.. 5 books.

And then that week was over.

It was a friday and Niko, another intern at my company, had been unusually chatty.

Let me tell you a little bit about Niko...

Niko showed up at work one day - no introduction, no explanation - and started working out in the main quad. To be perfectly honest it took me about 3 weeks to realize that he worked there and that he was the intern people kept talking about. I went by and introduced myself. At first he gave me an impossibly long Greek name and I smiled while thinking "there is no way in hell I can say that name." Then he laughed and told me to call him Niko.

In the following month I spoke to him maybe 3 more times. We were in the same meetings, working for the same people but I was pretty much glued to my desk and he was rolling in and out whenever he wanted.

Now sometimes he caught my eye - I mean he's decently pretty and looked enough like a man's man that I was mildly interested - but it was never anything more than a passing thought.

Until the day he got fired.

That day he came into my office and dat down all chatty and I got to know him. He's an artist and suddenly I'm learning all about him and his family and hey let's get a drink.

So we do.

Work ends and me and him go to get a drink. Which leads to us going to brooklyn to see an art show. Now there are few things that can drag me to brooklyn but a cute boy who wants to talk about art and might want to take my clothes off is one of those things. So cut to dirty  BK and I'm listening to an unwashed boy croon into a decade old mic and theres some sort of prayer circle going on and the art is part pop culture massacre and part wibblewobbles on canvas. Some giant scandanavian man named Cub tries to pick me up and Niko is surprised when I turn down his offer of a warm $5 can of heiniken light.

After about an hour of me not saying anything (which is very rare) Niko decides I've seen enough and he proposing coming back to my place for a drink and some painting. We wake up Lizz and her spouse and make them entertain us for a bit while Niko shows off his paintings of... well... paint. Different color paints all across the canvas in a sort of unabashed splatter.

Then he decides its time to paint. We retire to my bedroom and start painting (how erotic, I know) and I paint the eye of a bird.

He paints mud.

Then I start to make him up a bed on my couch (the one in my room) because thus far he's only shown interest in painting, spilling his guts and spouting bro vs. artist philosophy. He watches me and waits until I've finished making said bed before saying that "after painting together I'd feel wrong not sleeping in the same bed. I just want to be close to you."

Eh.

Why not.

So he gets into his skivvies. I get into my PJs. I get into bed and roll over to go to sleep.

Then Niko starts talking.

Now, for me, the bed is for 2 things. Sleeping. And sleeping with someone. No time for deep conversation and chit chat. I sleepy.

Well he's rambling on about shit and then he breaks it down for me. He wants to kiss me. I say.. okay. Then he say that he's going to kiss me, bite my neck, take off my shirt and have sex with me. If thats okay.

Eh. Sure.

So those events progress, I grab a condom and we start. Now I'm sober by this point. I've had several hours of Brooklyn, no alcohol and talking to sober me up. But not our boy Niko. No, no. He's wasted and soon out of breath and it seems like he's really getting worked up. I am really tired. So I propose we switch positions so he doesn't have to work so hard and I can put my face on the pillow without him noticing that I might possibly be taking a teeny tiny nap.

Well then he breaks it to me...

"Let me know when you're done... I'm doing this for you."

WHOA WHOA WHOA.

No.

Right now, I am doing you the favor buddy. I'm tired as hell. And frankly sort of over the sensitive artist thing. So I quite frankly tell him I'm tired and want to go to sleep and if he's not going to finish then he might as well stop.

Anyways thats done and I finally get to sleep.

Wake up to the sounds of jackhammers. Stare at the ceiling for several hours until he finally wakes up. He gets dressed, I walk him to the door and then I, in my cool, morning after way say "don't forget your paintings." Then he says "mind if I leave them here? I'll come get them later.."

And then he's gone. And I'm left with paint on my boob, a room to clean up and a pile of paintings that look like mud.

And that was my one night with Niko.


Oh wait... did I say I only had one night with him?... my mistake...

xxKK

THE WEEKEND THAT WAS (PART 3)

(I'm so sorry that it's taken me almost a month to post part 3 but I'm like... really busy...


and ashamed)


Okay... so where did we leave off?..

Oh that's right. EMT disappoints and then departs.
Everything I want in a man and more...

(I really hope you read the sarcasm in that)

Anyways. Come sunday and I am not sure if the ground has turned to marshmellow or if the world is spinning extra fast but walking is not my friend. In fact general co-ordination is defying me. It takes me about 10 minutes to figure out how to put on pants. Get stuck at the zipper and decide to opt for a dress.

You might be wondering what someone in my, obviously impaired, state is doing getting dressed at all. I mean obviously I should be in bed with a banana and a blindfold.

Oh hush you dirty birds... banana to help the hangover (potasium) and blindfold to keep out the light (headache)

But alas, such comforts aren't afforded to this little boozehound. No, instead I force myself into clothes and drag myself uptown to meet the rest of the crew for brunch.
Or as us manhattanites like to call it: a classy excuse for pre-noon drinking.

The only problem with brunching is that any place worth the price of admission usually has an hours long wait. And thus we began our champagne and orange juice gorging long before the eggs benedict came. So I was about half in the bag before breakfast.

Oh lets be honest... I'd fallen through 2 bags into the bottom of a bottle.

I was drunnnnk.

Did I mention that this was also the finals before the superbowl?
So naturally after 3 hours of booze and foodz we decided to go (where else?) to a bar.
A few beers, slurred words and shots later I find this dashing young gentleman who is a medical student. He too takes some shots, we shoot the breeze for a while and yell at jocks on the tv screen.

I do love a man who can yell.

So I decide I need to go to my house and sober up. Funny how the bar is a block from my house. Mick (my new doctor friend) decides he too could use a glass of water and a quieter place to watch the game.
Get to my place.
I go to the bathroom for 1 minute to check my face and push some makeup around on it. I come back and guess what I find...

NAKED MICK.

As in, he has stripped down and pulled the naked man and was sitting on my couch ass naked.

Well shit.

Not much I can do now... so I move his nakedness into my room and join him for rounds 1 and 2.

And they weren't great rounds. Short, fast, over.  And frankly any man who has the balls to pull the naked man should make sure he has the cock to match them. And Mick didn't have the dick.
Sad times.
Anyways.

I know what you're thinking... 3 days of drinking, two sex buddies. How more unclassy can this be?

OH... let me tell you.

I'm lying there naked and Mick is talking to me and letting his hands wander and like.. whatever. Because I'm over it but I'm also drunk and not about to turn down extra fun. And his hands move lower and it's sort of sexy and then he prods me. Yeah. There. And not in a sexy way. And then he's like... staring at my vag and I'm like... excuse me? Go away. And he's like (I fuck you not) "Babe, it's okay, I'm a doctor"

WHAT??

Are you trying to give me a subtle vag exam?? Are you my OBGYN? Did I just get tricked into a pap smear? NO FUCKING WAY.

I then have a minor freak out because, lets face it, the fastest way to kill the mood is to go from play time to playing doctor.

So by this point, as far as I'm concerned the night is over. I'm tired, I'm annoyed, I want him to leave and I want to finally sleep off my shame.
But my girls NP and shiv call and they're out so I drag my ass back into clothing to go meet them.

Goodbye Mick.

Nope.

Mick wants to come.

So he jumps in a cab with me and we go meet my friends. Such a weird situation. The random guy I just banged (and then had try to medically examine me) playing pool with me, Shiv and Shiv's high school boyfriend Vesty.

And like.. Mick isn't bad looking. In fact he's pretty cute. Could use some fashion tips and maybe a little bit of proactiv but he's cute. But he also just pulled a weird med student thing on me and I dunno. I'm  drunk and it's weird.

Finally we call it a night and Mick and I split a cab home. I got him number  (yeah... haven't called that hot mess) and I slept on a pile of towels to avoid the bed of sin that I'd created.

The next day at work I looked as bad as I felt and I'm pretty sure I was oozing vodka but after hiding my face all day and managing not to vomit I felt like I'd paid the price for having such a bender.

It wasn't my finest hour but it probably won't be my messiest either.

and now it's time for bed.

xxKK

THE WEEKEND THAT WAS (PART 2)

Rolled out of bed, pulled on the clothes I'd worn the night before, threw on some sunglasses and called Shiv to get food.

Find out the silly nut has left her debit card at the bar we were at last night so we change the plans oh so slightly.
We make one pit stop instead of two so that we can eat and retrieve her DC at the same time. This does call for a change of clothing since the bartenders had already seen my outfit from the night before.

Luckily I was still drunk from the night before so I dressed myself rather quickly and rather like a slutty 80s prom queen might.

Black Mesh.
White Lace.
Fuchia Leather Gloves.
Leggings.
Grey Blazer.
Bra.

Thats about it.

So you understand why I had to text Shiv asking her to hurry the hell up because standing on the corner waiting for her I looked like $5 bucks would buy you a back-to-the-future worth ride.

Obviously I looked awesome.

And I even patted myself on the back and thought, "good job, Kitty, on picking an outfit that can double as a traditional walk of shame worthy get-up for the next day"

Anywhoo. We go to the bar. Sure enough one of the bartenders from the night is on and between the fucking glorious burger I had (medium rare, swiss cheese, mushrooms, mayo and bacon) and the rounds of free shots they decided to give up (at 2pm, which was like our 10am) we learned that the karaoke that I had so fiercely been decking out the night before is actually recorded. And the bartenders watch it.

All the time.

And they have a highlights reel.

Yes. I'm on it.

They would not confirm or deny it but I'm pretty sure the night I fell off the stage and tore all my ligament is on that tape.

So.. after a few beers, shots and great food we went on our merry way... to Shiv's bar...

My god that fucking burger was delicious. I wish I hadn't talked about it... I'm so hungry now.

ONWARDS.

We get to Shivs bar. More beer. More shots. I think more snacks but I honestly couldn't attest to that fact. I start removing "unnecessary" articles of clothing until eventually I'm in a bra, mesh dress and heels.
Make new friends, harass old ones, drunkenly text people (it's sort of my thing) smoke a bowl in the basement and generally just act stupid.

After a few hours of this general behavior I realize that it's my friend Mina's half birthday party so I jump in a cab, haul my drunk ass downtown. See this girl who is almost as wasted as I am. Hit on everything that moves from gay men to coats draped over chairs. Have a drink more and then decide that it's time to put myself to bed. Say goodbye to all my new friends and get in a cab.


And go back to the bar.


I don't know when in that cab I made the decision not to go home but I found myself back at the bar with a beer in my hand before I could say "Hell's Kitchen please."

Sitting at the bar. Scoping the talent. Now I will say this about Shiv's bar... it is fun, the food is great and I love the staff.

But it's not great for picking up men.

However I saw this one guy who had a dangerous edge to him. Eminem with a heart of gold and khaki cargo pants.
I target him. See him, choose him, snipe him.

He takes the bait (which was pretty much a drunken smile and slight nod) and approaches me. Buys me a drink - I think I'm in love. He reveals that he is an EMT. Thus I shall name him EMT Guy because I cannot with any certainty say I learned his name. Or anything helpful to giving him a better nickname.

So me and EMT guy are talking and I'm so far wasted by this point that he could have probably been a lamp post and I would have taken him home. So when he pointed out that he didn't have a place to stay and was just waiting for his shift in a few hours I was like "funny story, I do have a place to stay. You could stay there too if by stay there you mean get naked and then leave when I'm done with you."

He said yes.
We got in a cab and headed home.

Wish I'd stuck with the lamp post...

We get home and he gets naked as promise and underneath the clothes lie a disappointing body. A beerbelly where muscles were promises, really horrible and tasteless tattoos and a very small... piece.

God EMT Guy! Why you no deliver on your promises!

Well by the time were both naked enough to see this it was too late to back out so we had some quick, not very good sex and then he started rambling about how he'd love to stay but he just HAD to go to work... unless I want him to call in sick?

No.

No I do not.

Put your clothes on and get out of my house so I can fall asleep and hope that the booze I've soaked my brain in erases all memory of you.

So EMT Guy leaves, I fall asleep. The memories don't disappear but I do wake up starving, thirsty and still drunk.

And thus begins part 3...

THE WEEKEND THAT WAS (PART 1)

So...

About how it feels like it's been AGES since I last posted.

I'd like to blame it on how awesome the past few weeks have been, on how fucking busy I am raging my face off but it is just so much more shameful than that.

It's really just been shame holding me back.

It all started one fateful thursday... I woke up so sick and had to call out of work. (Clearly this is not the exciting part of the story) and I spent my day sleeping, sleeping, sleeping and drinking soup.

Then Friday came by and I was going to head to work but I still felt a little off and my boss didnt want me contaminating the rest of the office so he told me to stay home. Well after sleeping from 8am till 4pm I woke up feeling awesome, rested and HUNGRY.

So I went to visit Shiv at her work place to eat the most amazing mushroom burger.

Seriously. The burger is taste bud orgasmic.

So since she works at a bar my food obviously came with a couple of beers. That led us down the road of debauchery and we ended up heading to our favorite neighborhood bar. Where I did many many shots. So many free shots of jager. So many... *shudder*

And after we insured everyone was so drunk that they were passing out, crying or pulling irish goodbyes I decided to start singing some glorious Karaoke.

Which, while I'm singing, makes me feel like a rockstar. And when I look back makes me want to kill myself.

The balance of minimal food, maximum medication and more booze than a camel could hold made for some SLOPPY actions and piss poor decisions but I managed to keep a teeny slice of dignity and walk myself home without losing any belongings, shoes or underwear. Got into my apartment after only 14 minutes of fighting the keys and went to sleep ass naked on top of a pile of my clothes.

Yup, shoes too.

So far it's sounding pretty tame, right?

Just a normal friday night...

I woke up at 1pm the next "morning" and rolled over, pulled on the clothes I'd worn the night before, threw on sunglasses and called Shiv to get get food.

And that's where Part Two began....

Trust me... there's too much shame in this story for it to be contained in one post.

xxKK

IT'S A WIN FOR THE G-MEN

First off, I hate that the Giants call themselves "G-Men"

What is this? A chinatown X-Men knockoff?
Like... would you rather be a group of normal guys...
OR would you want to be the mighty powerful GIANTS?

Come on.

It's not rocket science.

Anyways.

As per normal I was looking for a good reason to party and get waaaasted (but who really needs a reason, right?)
And the Superbowl seemed like a pretty fucking good reason.

I mean, it's hot guys in spandex, funny commercials, excitement that only sports can bring and everybody needs a place to watch it!

Hell I already have the TV and the couch space. I bought a case of beer and a vegetable plate and that was the end of my party prep. Pretty fucking sweet.
And I invited peeps from school, from work, from life. All of my favorite people!

And they came!

I'm so used to being blown off that I didn't actually expect people to show up. But 95% of the people I invited showed up. Plus a couple spares. And people watched the game and laughed at the commercials and screamed at the refs and drank anytime there was a touchdown, a field goal, a penalty, a time out, an injury, a mention of Peyton Manning, or of Madonna, whenever a beer commercial was on and pretty much anytime anything at all was happening.

There was beer pong and 5 fingers and so so so many snacks.

Noone threw up in my bathtub or got wine on my ceiling or broke a glass or almost burned down the house or started a fight or even had to crash because they were too drunk for feet.

So prettttty much it was the most successful party I've ever thrown.

Redo this weekend? Maaaaybe...

Help me think of an excuse to party and this time maybe I'll document the festivities so I can share photos.

xxKK

p.s. there was no left over beer at the end of the night but there were two tubs of guacamole, half the veggie plate and so many pigs in a blanket. Dinner anyone? Don't mind if I do...

Night.

OOOH IT FEELS GOOD TO BE STRUCK BY LIGHTENING..

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WHY WON'T YOU LET ME BE GOOD?

The last time we spoke I was all ooh yay! happy shiny bright and a motherfucking sunshine out my ass.

Clearly... this is not the case today.

And it's not that I've given up on the life of positivity that I had planned out it's just that it's like the whole world is on my ass today.

Okay that's over dramatic.

But I've had a stressful few days at work due to so many phone calls and trying to make big girl decisions and being trusted to make said decisions despite the fact that I'm only 22 freaking years old and I'm kinnnnd of freaking out about this whole thing.

So as my new work friends and Liz can attest... I've been a little.. moody/bitchy/sad/stressed/angry/snacky/snarky/just plain mean... for the past 3 days.

This was not helped by the drama of family and friends.

Or the fact that it's been a year since I spent time with Marie and I miss the shit out of her.

Or the fact that I feel like I don't get enough sleep and when I do sleep I wake up sore. Or the...

...you get the point...

And then on top of it all for the second day in a row Will pops up on facebook just to say hi. ]
Like... says hi, asks what's up and then... nothing. Like... you avoiding having to see or really talk to me while I was home, you didn't answer my texts and you blow me off all the time. And then you want to just say hi? Like go away... be my friend or don't be my friend. And those are the only options now because honestly I'm not interested in playing the "I have a girlfriend but I want to flirt with you" game anymore. I've played it too much. I'm a goddamn master at it. It's not fun anymore.

Ugh maybe I'm just bitchy.. maybe I shouldn't be allowed to have nice people, who just say hi because they want to, in my life.
Maybe I need a drink. Or just some sleep.

Maybe this is just a rush of messy emotions and feelings because my period is just around the riverbend. I mean... I cried during Jersey Shore tonight.. clearly something is not right with me.

Alright... I have a super busy day tomorrow so I'm gonna get some shut eye but I hope you're all out there sending me some good juju so I can get outta the funk and back onto my annoyingly positive horse.

xxKK

ON SWITCHING 'I' FOR 'E' AND LOVE IN 2012

So this year I didn't actually set any real resolutions. I mean there are always the usuals in the back of my head...

lose weight...
finish writing a script...
find a boyfriend...
have better sex...
spend less on shoes...

The usuals.

But nothing committed to paper or anything like that.

Well since the New Year I've managed to somehow, without prompting of resolutions, still manage to turn over a tiny bit of a leaf.

I already just feel more positive. It's probably just runoff of 2011 because I have this great new job working in TV and I love it, and I've been hanging out with my best friends a lot, and I've cut out 90% of the useless drama (obviously I have to keep that 10% plus 100% of useful drama... or else life would be bloody boring) and all of that was lumped onto the tail end of 2011.

And then I got to go home for the first time in a year and see my friends and ride my moped and have sex with hometown boy and I came back to the city just even more positive. I found out that people in the office actually missed me while I was gone and I made a new friend [at work] (!!!) and I just feel awesome.

This girl started working with me 3 days a week and for the first hour I wasn't sure of how it was going to go but then I realized she was just what my girl friend group was missing. She's hilarious and sweet and a total gossip (but in the fun endearing way, not the malicious rumors way)
And usually I would have been mad awkward and driven her away but I was feeling positive and open and now we're good friends after only a week.

And then I went on a date with a guy tonight. His name in Stratton and I met him online and I didn't run away afte 3 IMs. We met up and went ice skating. I don't know if it's going to go anywhere but I'm willing to give it another shot since he didn't make fun of me for falling twice and making rail stops every 10 minutes and he thought my intense fear and concentration was endearing instead of weird. I don't know if I like him or if he likes me but, by God, I'm going to give it a try. Because I'm being goddamn positive and I fucking deserve it.

Hell I'm gonna date all the guys online.

Everyone of them.

Okay maybe not that many...

But the point is I'm opening up and trying! I haven't been to my neighborhood bars since I've been home because I'm trying (against my natural instinct) to branch out and try new things.

I'm even couponing now. Because happy people like savings too. And there's something weirdly seductive about that little slot at the bottom of my receipt that says "In this transaction you have saved $24.58"
Like... yeah I motherfucking did! High five to myself. Pat on the back. NBD.

And I guess the last thing I'll tell you about this new me is that I took the "I" out of "bitter" and inserted an "e"

(I'm saving the I to spell optimistic)

The point is..

well the point needs a tiny backstory.

While I was home he-who-shall-not-be-named contacted me.
No, not Voldemort, Mugwug.
He sent me a very kind merry christmas text. I didn't respond because I was roaming and long distant and poor. But also because I didn't know what to say. Like... you left me on the floor for 6 hours with a mass amount of torn ligaments. You lied about me to everyone I knew. You made me cry more than any boy I've ever known before and we were just friends... And then out of nowhere, after not having any contact for 5 months you send me the happy christmas text? And have the audacity to mention my family?

It definitely threw me off balance. A

And at first I thought of every childish catty thing I could respond from "who's this?" to "my christmas is especially merry without you in it" but then I decided not to be a total cunt and I just didn't respond at all.

But that's not a solution either. Because then I look like the bad guy. So I finally swallowed my bitterness and just wrote back a simple "Thanks, same to you." Because I don't need to catch up or invite conversation because my life truly is infinitely better without him. But I also don't need to waste energy on hating him or ignoring him.

I'm through playing games.

Happy 2012.

xxKK

WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE

As you know I was just back home for the holidays. What you don't know is that I was supposed to come back to NYC on the 3rd but my flight got canceled due to bad weather. 

At first I was like "Fuck!" 

And then I was like "Fuck yeah!" 

Extra day at home FTW. So I decided to go out and re-celebrate my last night. Now apparently tuesday nights are like a big going out night at home (lets face it… when isn't it a good going out night?) And I ran into Joey. Which is fine, whatever. 

But then I ran into Jack. 

Now Jack is a boy I've known of for a while but didn't ever run in the same circles. Anyways a few nights into my holiday vacation I ran into him at a bar and we got to talking and it came up that he was American (and I'm not) and we started joking that he could be my Green Card Husband. At first it was playful. 

Told all of our friends that we were getting married (they were drunk enough to believe it) 

After some bar hopping we started dancing. 

Oh jesus. 

This boy has more energy than a redbull on crack. 

I was nearly knocked over by all of his hip thrusts and shimmy shimmy shakes. But he is really hot. Like… gorgeous… so I kept dancing and flirting. 

Soon energetic dancing became energetic making out and before I knew it all of my lipstick was gone and I'd christened every corner of the bar with him. (Kissing christening not the… other… kind) 

So we exchanged numbers and promised to meet up.

Cut to a week later where I haven't heard from him and have started regularly sleeping with Joey. 

So I run into him, make a quick joke about how he never returned my call… then he drops it on me… he's been trying to get ahold of me. He took down the wrong number (oops booze) and he wanted to get together. 

Err.. oops? Missed opportunity, aw shucks. And it sucks that it's my last night because I'm sure he'd be a jackrabbit in the sheets but I bet he'd be enthusiastic in all the right ways. 

So anyways I'm hanging out with Joey and Jack is hanging around and he starts flirting and trying to dance (and we know where that goes…) so I sort of… take him to another part of the bar. Separate the two J's right? 

So we're flirting and joking around but I'm keeping my distance (or so I thought) and trying not to seem like a massive whore who's got two guys with her. But I guess I wasn't as subtle as I thought I was because people kept coming up and asking me about my boyfriend and I'm like "HA, no. Just a friend" 

But then I hear people coming up to him and talking about his "boo" and he… doesn't correct them.

Like… we made out once… I'm not your "boo"

So then it gets a little awkward because it's clear that he wants me to go home with him or at least have a repeat showing of the first time. 

And then there's Joey who's telling me how he's getting home later (hint hint) and I'm trying like hell to keep them away from each other so noone puts it together that 2+2 = Whore. 

Like I don't want people knowing what a tongue slut I was…

I mean usually I'd say no shame in that game but the thing is…  I just don't know the expectation in this situation. Like… I'm not dating Joey so I wouldn't care if he was playmate to someone else as well. Like we always use a condom so I'm not really worried about picking up some random girls VD from him. But I dunno if I'd want to see him making out with another girl in front of me… Like I don't mind if he screws her but I don't want to see it? 

Then again I thought I saw him on a date and the only thing I thought about was making sure his girl didn't figure out that he was fucking me because I didn't want to ruin a date… Like I wasn't jealous. (turned out to be his cousin in the end) 

But just because I don't care doesn't mean I should go around showing off the other guy I'm playing with. Or does it not matter? 

Ugh I just don't know how to handle it when the worlds collide. 

Any thoughts? 

Anyone? 

xxKK

LEARNING TO LOVE LETTUCE

So if you've read this blog for any substantial period of time or if you know me then you know that I have a strange love of all things airport. 

It's a weird love. 

I just love how self contained they are.

If you're bored, boom entertainment. Hungry? Grab any number of options. Cuticles looking a little mangled? Go get a mother fucking manicure at the airport spa. 

Mother fucking airport SPA. 

I mean… you can't really go wrong. 

However… this love is pretty much only for big airports. JFK, LAX, MIA… the bigger ones just have SO MUCH TO LOVE.. 

My small time hometown? Not so much. 

Only two very small food places… both of them serve the same thing. 

No internet connection (I'm writing this in text edit to upload later) 

And the only shop is a clothing store that sells fucking lame T shirts that say things like "I heart my Hometown" "I survived swimming with the sharks!" "But why is the rum gone?" 

I mean… come on. What you think you're NYC?? You didn't even fucking swim with sharks… maybe a mantaray but there is no fucking way you swam with sharks. And lets be honest… if you ran out of run that's you own damn fault. That's why you buy a case when you arrive for your 6 day trip. Can't be risking that shit, man. 

Okay hold on a minute… this wasn't supposed to turn into an airport rant… let's get back on track. 

The whole point of that was that if I were in NY right now I'd be feasting on delicious snacks, cuddled up with the movie I was streaming online and enjoying a goddamn pedicure. 

Okay that last part was a lie. I have ticklish feet… 

I would be in comfort and bliss. But instead I am sitting in a wireless cold ass airport eating a withered chef salad because its the only thing that didn't look like someone ran it over or left it swimming in oil for three days. 

And while I'm eating this mediocre salad I realized that after destroying all the toppings (mmmm meat and cheese) I'd just left all the lettuce. That the lettuce had gone from an ingredient to a holding platter.

A bit of decorative greenery. 

And then I wonder why I'm still fat…. 

So maybe my resolution for 2012 should be simply this: Learn to Love Lettuce. 

Because if I could enjoy a salad for the lettuce instead of just the toppings then maybe I'd stop eating such "salads" (like a cheese and meat salad) and start eating more actual salads and then maybe I could lose a bit of fat. Like I've started… I'm at the annoying between sizes thing right now where my pants fall off when I walk but the next size down makes me feel like a pig being turned into a sausage. 

While still alive. 

So… dear 2012… I vow to try my very very best to eat better, eat more lettuce and less chocolate/cheese/bread and hit the gym at least twice a week. If not more. I vow to venture out of my neighborhood more and see things that astound me. To spend my non existent money on bettering myself or learning new things instead of only on booze. And I vow to have a lot more sex because that counts as exercise. 

So full of resolution, hope and mediocre salad I go off into the world….

xxKK 

aw shit I'm still in this motherfucking airport….