"So, cute boy that I met last Sat...is this sat going to be as fun as last?"
"Damn, well it will be for me, but prob not for u, b/c I'm out of town at an Alumni wknd in Providence. Can I get a raincheck for next wknd? Like ur style!"
OOOOhhhhhh m'goodness...
"Oh, did u think I was askin' u out, cocky? & not just curious abt the cute boy that belongs to the # I got lst wkend? Verry innteresting ;-)"
If he responds to that with style, I might have met my match...but probably not. Dying laughing, and wondering if I will ever be able to resist the urge to entertain myself. Probably not, tehehehehe...
And what the fuck is "Like ur style?"
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Thoughts I had yesterday, in between bitching about college educated goobers:
Eeuu, the only child in my just reared her brattish head, jeez.
I find it odd and strangely comforting that painful, hurtful things make me feel better. It’s like being a cutter, only this time it’s just emotional and not physical. Which is why getting this tattoo might start me down an interesting path...
So I guess another sign of “Kelly very busy, grunt” is when she drops the last bite of her much needed (because they won’t let me drink at work) 3 Musketeers Bar on the floor while talking to someone in senior management and doesn’t even blink while she bends down, picks it up, blows it off mid-sentence and pops it in her mouth. I am such a world-class professional!
Eeuu, the only child in my just reared her brattish head, jeez.
I find it odd and strangely comforting that painful, hurtful things make me feel better. It’s like being a cutter, only this time it’s just emotional and not physical. Which is why getting this tattoo might start me down an interesting path...
So I guess another sign of “Kelly very busy, grunt” is when she drops the last bite of her much needed (because they won’t let me drink at work) 3 Musketeers Bar on the floor while talking to someone in senior management and doesn’t even blink while she bends down, picks it up, blows it off mid-sentence and pops it in her mouth. I am such a world-class professional!
Friday, February 20, 2009
10 Minutes, everyday Amber. Because Mama Blake said so...
10 Things to look forward to this weekend (I am not really sure why I am throwing down with the lists, it might have something to do with the 12 hr days I've been working for the past two weeks and lack of brain capacity for anything else, I don't know...)
10. Sleep. I love sleep. I miss sleep. I am not really sure that sleep even remembers who I am.
9. Trying my damnedest to ignore a really strong urge and my natural instinct when it comes to said urge.
8. Cleaning my apartment. No seriously, I am looking forward to it because it looks like a cyclone has come through and I've lost the cat under piles of stuff more than once this week.
7. Writing for longer than ten minutes
6. Wandering, which I haven't had the time to do in a long time
5. Going to a party with a boy that I barely know and a bunch of people that I don't know at all - sounds like fun for me, right?
4. Figuring out where I'm going for the 30th b-day vacation
3. Figuring out what I'm going to do for the 30th b-day in New York, because you know there's gonna be a party
2. Seeing Rudy to get my hair did...god knows the mane needs to be tamed!
1. Sittin' on some babies.
I am sooo sleepy!
10 Things to look forward to this weekend (I am not really sure why I am throwing down with the lists, it might have something to do with the 12 hr days I've been working for the past two weeks and lack of brain capacity for anything else, I don't know...)
10. Sleep. I love sleep. I miss sleep. I am not really sure that sleep even remembers who I am.
9. Trying my damnedest to ignore a really strong urge and my natural instinct when it comes to said urge.
8. Cleaning my apartment. No seriously, I am looking forward to it because it looks like a cyclone has come through and I've lost the cat under piles of stuff more than once this week.
7. Writing for longer than ten minutes
6. Wandering, which I haven't had the time to do in a long time
5. Going to a party with a boy that I barely know and a bunch of people that I don't know at all - sounds like fun for me, right?
4. Figuring out where I'm going for the 30th b-day vacation
3. Figuring out what I'm going to do for the 30th b-day in New York, because you know there's gonna be a party
2. Seeing Rudy to get my hair did...god knows the mane needs to be tamed!
1. Sittin' on some babies.
I am sooo sleepy!
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Ten Responses:
10. Really Dude? Really?!?
9. You are Lame.
8. Um, no. Nooooo....eh eh EH - just no!
7. Right, well, do feel better, darling. (said in a cockney accent)
6. You got dropped on you head when you were a baby, didn't you?
5. And you are?...?
4. Sunday was rough, huh? Pansy.
3. Such a waste. I mean, look at ya.
2. You're friend was funny - is he a moron too?
1. ....*Crickets*...
Yeah, I know. We all knew I was going with 1 before I even started this list. AS Ashley said "Cut and run, Kelly. Cut and run."
Cut the anchor rope and run before the wind. I freakin' love it!
Nerd.
10. Really Dude? Really?!?
9. You are Lame.
8. Um, no. Nooooo....eh eh EH - just no!
7. Right, well, do feel better, darling. (said in a cockney accent)
6. You got dropped on you head when you were a baby, didn't you?
5. And you are?...?
4. Sunday was rough, huh? Pansy.
3. Such a waste. I mean, look at ya.
2. You're friend was funny - is he a moron too?
1. ....*Crickets*...
Yeah, I know. We all knew I was going with 1 before I even started this list. AS Ashley said "Cut and run, Kelly. Cut and run."
Cut the anchor rope and run before the wind. I freakin' love it!
Nerd.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Sunday, April 29, 2007
The house plant is giving me eyes...
Yes. Thank you for dinner.
Thinking that you want something, and knowing that it's wrong for a multitude of reasons, but being perfectly willing to do it anyway, usually comes to an end at some point in a person's life.
When you say to yourself "EVER-Y time that I do this, the end result is ALWAYS bad..." then you're either going to learn to stop doing it, or experience divine intervention, or DIE.
In my case, most of the bad habits that I insist upon perpetuating won't end tragically. Some things I learn to get better about, and some things God has given me signs about, in varying degrees of obviousness from the appearance of a butterfly to a flashing neon sign that says "hey MORON, knock it OFF", indicating that I should not keep doing what I am doing. What I find interesting about myself, and humanity in general for that matter, is how much we are willing to listen. Or not listen at all, to be concise. We stumble around in our lives trying to make the right choices, and trying to not get too upset over our mistakes.
There are some mistakes that are so easy to make, that feel so good, we just can't seem to get the point...BAD. And even if we do - "ah, what's this time gonna hurt? One more time is not gonna throw me too far off the path..." even when we know good and well that it does. Why? WHY do we do that?
I, for my part, am getting damn tired of feeling like a kid with a helmet, banging my head against the same wall over the same tired junk.
I think I'll take the helmet off. At this point, busting my head open or breaking my neck might just be the f-ing wake-up call that I need.
The house plant is giving me eyes...
Yes. Thank you for dinner.
Thinking that you want something, and knowing that it's wrong for a multitude of reasons, but being perfectly willing to do it anyway, usually comes to an end at some point in a person's life.
When you say to yourself "EVER-Y time that I do this, the end result is ALWAYS bad..." then you're either going to learn to stop doing it, or experience divine intervention, or DIE.
In my case, most of the bad habits that I insist upon perpetuating won't end tragically. Some things I learn to get better about, and some things God has given me signs about, in varying degrees of obviousness from the appearance of a butterfly to a flashing neon sign that says "hey MORON, knock it OFF", indicating that I should not keep doing what I am doing. What I find interesting about myself, and humanity in general for that matter, is how much we are willing to listen. Or not listen at all, to be concise. We stumble around in our lives trying to make the right choices, and trying to not get too upset over our mistakes.
There are some mistakes that are so easy to make, that feel so good, we just can't seem to get the point...BAD. And even if we do - "ah, what's this time gonna hurt? One more time is not gonna throw me too far off the path..." even when we know good and well that it does. Why? WHY do we do that?
I, for my part, am getting damn tired of feeling like a kid with a helmet, banging my head against the same wall over the same tired junk.
I think I'll take the helmet off. At this point, busting my head open or breaking my neck might just be the f-ing wake-up call that I need.
Friday, July 06, 2007
The Things That Make Me Happy:
Sunglasses, a bikini and my camera.
Rough waves...any waves, Starvin' Surfer at Stir-it-Up, the Monkeys, a happy baby, old crushes, Brown Ale, a brazen racoon and bare feet on hot sand.
A sketched out cat and an itty bitty teeny little dog who sounds like a herd of elephants and tries to gobble my nose, parallel parking, funny stories "remember when we did this?", watching the clouds pass while trying to absorb the sun, my infamous funny tan lines "I swear, you're just meant to be striped!" The half-moon making a trail across the water, practically crooking a finger to invite me to dream.
Blueberry picking and clever, funny kids who are growing so quickly, seeing a guy who now has enough patience to wait for me to settle down and look at him, talking to the woman who has made me cry more than any person on this earth, coffee in a go-mug because I don't have time to sit and drink it...
Grinning at my life. Resting my heart and soul with people who taught me how to be peaceful on the inside, not just trying to look peaceful by cloaking my face with a smile. Resting the same on the beach that is everything spiritual that I will ever need, and knowing that in the end, it is what I will always return to.
The Things That Make Me Happy:
Sunglasses, a bikini and my camera.
Rough waves...any waves, Starvin' Surfer at Stir-it-Up, the Monkeys, a happy baby, old crushes, Brown Ale, a brazen racoon and bare feet on hot sand.
A sketched out cat and an itty bitty teeny little dog who sounds like a herd of elephants and tries to gobble my nose, parallel parking, funny stories "remember when we did this?", watching the clouds pass while trying to absorb the sun, my infamous funny tan lines "I swear, you're just meant to be striped!" The half-moon making a trail across the water, practically crooking a finger to invite me to dream.
Blueberry picking and clever, funny kids who are growing so quickly, seeing a guy who now has enough patience to wait for me to settle down and look at him, talking to the woman who has made me cry more than any person on this earth, coffee in a go-mug because I don't have time to sit and drink it...
Grinning at my life. Resting my heart and soul with people who taught me how to be peaceful on the inside, not just trying to look peaceful by cloaking my face with a smile. Resting the same on the beach that is everything spiritual that I will ever need, and knowing that in the end, it is what I will always return to.
Right now, this is ten minutes that I could be at work, knocking out some applications.
But I will write, because it is all I seem to really want to do.
And when I think about that, I think about missed opportunities, and about how I didn't try hard enough to be who I was, to figure out what I wanted to do. I had a conversation with my Aunt when I was in Philly - I think I scared her a little because I was almost manic in my desire to figure out a way to impart that lesson on my cousin - figure out what you're good at, several things, and do everything in your power to integrate them into you life. If not, you're constantly looking at your life and thinking, "what the fuck am I doing this for? What is this FOR?"
I am good at writing. I can do it all day, about anything, bullshit, politics, horseshit, current events...oh wait, that's all the same shit. But I choked when decision time came, because I felt that my writing was too personal to me and I might just be killed if it were to be criticized. Coward. While it was the only therapy that was cathartic and that I would accept, I think the only way to bring all that full circle is to write it, to share it with other people. Otherwise, all that I have learned, all of those words in all of those notebooks are gonna rot like the blood orange sitting in my line of vision right now...
Such a waste. Such a fucking shame.
But I will write, because it is all I seem to really want to do.
And when I think about that, I think about missed opportunities, and about how I didn't try hard enough to be who I was, to figure out what I wanted to do. I had a conversation with my Aunt when I was in Philly - I think I scared her a little because I was almost manic in my desire to figure out a way to impart that lesson on my cousin - figure out what you're good at, several things, and do everything in your power to integrate them into you life. If not, you're constantly looking at your life and thinking, "what the fuck am I doing this for? What is this FOR?"
I am good at writing. I can do it all day, about anything, bullshit, politics, horseshit, current events...oh wait, that's all the same shit. But I choked when decision time came, because I felt that my writing was too personal to me and I might just be killed if it were to be criticized. Coward. While it was the only therapy that was cathartic and that I would accept, I think the only way to bring all that full circle is to write it, to share it with other people. Otherwise, all that I have learned, all of those words in all of those notebooks are gonna rot like the blood orange sitting in my line of vision right now...
Such a waste. Such a fucking shame.
Monday, February 16, 2009
OK. Ten minutes everyday....go...
........
Well, I figure I have ten minutes until I finish my coffee, so here goes:
the square patch of sky that I can see out of my window is cloudless-blue. I woke up at noon when I should've been up hours before because I went out for two nights in a row and was in at 3 am and 5 am, respectively. This made for a Worthless Kelly Sunday, which wouldn't have been that bad had I not been in the mood for wallering. There, that was a minute...
Main Entry:
in·tim·i·date
Pronunciation:
\in-ˈti-mə-ˌdāt\
Function:
transitive verb
Inflected Form(s):
in·tim·i·dat·ed; in·tim·i·dat·ing
Etymology:
Medieval Latin intimidatus, past participle of intimidare, from Latin in- + timidus timid
Date:
1646
: to make timid or fearful : frighten ; especially : to compel or deter by or as if by threats
As if by threats....? I got this one thrown out at me again on Saturday, Valentine's Day, wearing a fru-fru dress and spike-heeled leather booties...yes, real frightening. It actually kind of made me mad and I called bullshit. And then I called for another beer and shrugged it off, but still, baffling. Especially since I almost fell off of the booth when I was trying to push myself into it with my spike-heels, but whatever.
Five minutes, bully. Halfway through...
God, gorgeous
she has to tilt her head back
even in her spiked heels
to look into your open face
you wonder what other
facial expressions you might create,
and think you want
to find out
right now. Right now, is all.
Right now, this moment, this heartbeat,
there is a grin, head to the side,
eyebrow arched...
God.
Gorgeous.
Then someone screams
loud
and suddenly she is packed into her coat,
her bag crooked into her elbow,
she winks, bye, and is gone.
The air is cooling now
where her body had stood, all wrapped up in you.
Your fingertips smell like the nape of her neck
when you drain the last of your beer...
God.
Gorgeous.
And Gone.
........
Well, I figure I have ten minutes until I finish my coffee, so here goes:
the square patch of sky that I can see out of my window is cloudless-blue. I woke up at noon when I should've been up hours before because I went out for two nights in a row and was in at 3 am and 5 am, respectively. This made for a Worthless Kelly Sunday, which wouldn't have been that bad had I not been in the mood for wallering. There, that was a minute...
Main Entry:
in·tim·i·date
Pronunciation:
\in-ˈti-mə-ˌdāt\
Function:
transitive verb
Inflected Form(s):
in·tim·i·dat·ed; in·tim·i·dat·ing
Etymology:
Medieval Latin intimidatus, past participle of intimidare, from Latin in- + timidus timid
Date:
1646
: to make timid or fearful : frighten ; especially : to compel or deter by or as if by threats
As if by threats....? I got this one thrown out at me again on Saturday, Valentine's Day, wearing a fru-fru dress and spike-heeled leather booties...yes, real frightening. It actually kind of made me mad and I called bullshit. And then I called for another beer and shrugged it off, but still, baffling. Especially since I almost fell off of the booth when I was trying to push myself into it with my spike-heels, but whatever.
Five minutes, bully. Halfway through...
God, gorgeous
she has to tilt her head back
even in her spiked heels
to look into your open face
you wonder what other
facial expressions you might create,
and think you want
to find out
right now. Right now, is all.
Right now, this moment, this heartbeat,
there is a grin, head to the side,
eyebrow arched...
God.
Gorgeous.
Then someone screams
loud
and suddenly she is packed into her coat,
her bag crooked into her elbow,
she winks, bye, and is gone.
The air is cooling now
where her body had stood, all wrapped up in you.
Your fingertips smell like the nape of her neck
when you drain the last of your beer...
God.
Gorgeous.
And Gone.
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