So I’m sitting in the cafeteria the day before vday mooching internet off the school as usual and looking at a friend’s wedding website (after, I might add, having spoken with two friends, one who whom just got married and is now preggers, and the other who is about to get married) when I come across the following words in the matron of honor’s bio:
“When I was young and foolish I moved Hong Kong hoping to see the world and it has been the biggest regret of my life.”
The words “BIGGEST REGRET” jump out at me like a popup ad for internet porn.
The flood gates open and all my insecurities regarding every decision I’ve ever made come pouring out.
I freak out.
Looking for a safe place to unlease my crazy, I scan gchat for someone who could help me. I settled apon an old co worker of mine. I sent him a message that looked something like:
“ALLMYFRIENDSAREGETTINGMARRIEDORHAVINGBABIESANDANDIJUSTREADABOUTSOMEGIRL’SBIGGESTREGRET WASMOVINGTOHONGKONGTOSEETHEWORLDANDTOMORROWISVDAYANDI’MDOINGLAUNDRY. HELP”.
His reply: Huh?
Annoyed he wasn’t understanding the dire situation I slowed down and splained myself. After he was all caught up I let loose the crazy.
Me: What if it’s all a big mistake? You know the story of the ant and grasshopper? I’m a grasshopper. And we all know what happens to the grasshopper at the end. IT DIES IN THE FREEZING COLD BY ITSELF. ALL ALONE.
Him: Is that some sort of fable?
I wanted to scream. Of all the people I decide to pour my heart out to, I get the one person that doesn’t know the story of the ant and grasshopper? How the hell am I suppose to freak out properly if I have to catch him up to speed every other sentence?
I accuse him of ruining my meltdown.
He accuses me of being irrationally dumb.
I equate my future dating pool as slim pickings after a huge after Thanksgiving Day sale.
He tells me to go cry it out.
I further lose faith in my decision making skills having picked the world’s worst person to help make me feel better.
I tell him he is bad at this and brace myself for a question regarding my monthly cycle. Instead the words I’ve been looking for appear.
Kelly, you’re awesome.
That’s all I needed. Crisis averted.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
25 things
1. I love lists.
2. I love the smell of fabric softener on a guy.
3. Sometimes I get mistaken for a pre-pubescent girl. That’s on a good day. Usually I get mistaken for a boy.
4. I talk in my sleep. I’ve also been known to sing rounds or burp.
5. I don’t hear an “inner” voice and think people who do are weird. Except for JD. He’s cool.
6. I choose my own name when I was eleven, Kelly, which won out over Adora.
7. I love watching bad reality television especially when the people on there don’t realized how awful they’re being and think how they’re acting is normal.
8. People usually think I’m a bitch when they first meet me but in my mind I think I’m being friendly at the time.
9. If I’m around British people for more than an hour I inherit their accent even though I know how pretentious I sound.
10. I’m crap at languages and get really sick of people telling me how I should be good at them because I’m bilingual.
11. When I was younger I had the Marsha Brady complex with my sister and when a teacher asked me to name something I did better than her I thought for a while and then said “cartwheels”.
12. I think my sister is the best.
13. I enjoy being enthusiastically bitter.
14. The celebrity most people say I look like is Michelle Kwan. I don’t find this flattering.
15. I failed pre-algebra in the 7th grade and had to take summer school to go on to the 8th grade.
16. I prefer the radio to choosing my own music because I have no idea what I like and am too lazy to figure it out.
17. I don’t believe the Mc Knights are really identical twins.
18. I am blessed with a great metabolism.
19. I have two nieces and can say without biased that they are the cutest.
20. If I don’t have meat in a meal (excluding breakfast) I don’t feel full.
21. I learned how to take a compliment when I was 21.
22. I have never hugged my dad. The mere thought of it to me is weird (but I’ve hugged everyone else in my family).
23. When I was younger I looked exactly like my mom. Now I look like my dad.
24. I lose things all the time and have no sense of direction.
25. I am actively procrastinating.
2. I love the smell of fabric softener on a guy.
3. Sometimes I get mistaken for a pre-pubescent girl. That’s on a good day. Usually I get mistaken for a boy.
4. I talk in my sleep. I’ve also been known to sing rounds or burp.
5. I don’t hear an “inner” voice and think people who do are weird. Except for JD. He’s cool.
6. I choose my own name when I was eleven, Kelly, which won out over Adora.
7. I love watching bad reality television especially when the people on there don’t realized how awful they’re being and think how they’re acting is normal.
8. People usually think I’m a bitch when they first meet me but in my mind I think I’m being friendly at the time.
9. If I’m around British people for more than an hour I inherit their accent even though I know how pretentious I sound.
10. I’m crap at languages and get really sick of people telling me how I should be good at them because I’m bilingual.
11. When I was younger I had the Marsha Brady complex with my sister and when a teacher asked me to name something I did better than her I thought for a while and then said “cartwheels”.
12. I think my sister is the best.
13. I enjoy being enthusiastically bitter.
14. The celebrity most people say I look like is Michelle Kwan. I don’t find this flattering.
15. I failed pre-algebra in the 7th grade and had to take summer school to go on to the 8th grade.
16. I prefer the radio to choosing my own music because I have no idea what I like and am too lazy to figure it out.
17. I don’t believe the Mc Knights are really identical twins.
18. I am blessed with a great metabolism.
19. I have two nieces and can say without biased that they are the cutest.
20. If I don’t have meat in a meal (excluding breakfast) I don’t feel full.
21. I learned how to take a compliment when I was 21.
22. I have never hugged my dad. The mere thought of it to me is weird (but I’ve hugged everyone else in my family).
23. When I was younger I looked exactly like my mom. Now I look like my dad.
24. I lose things all the time and have no sense of direction.
25. I am actively procrastinating.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
the effects of glamour and cosmo
So when Brooke came to visit I called dibs on whatever magazines she bought for the plane ride over to Paris. Which happen to be Glamour and Cosmo. Confining myself to my room over the weekend to tackle projects with looming deadlines, they were my only source of procrastination since I have no t.v. or internet in my room and I was out of books to read.
I devoured them.
And then weird things started happening, or rather, strange thoughts started to pop in my head. Like when I went to get dressed, I changed clothes three times because what if what I had one was one of those things in my closet that could make me look chunky? Or maybe I WAS stuck in a rut and not experimenting with color enough preventing me from being a “fun” and “fearless” female.
When I finally got myself presentable and outside I couldn’t help but judge what everyone was wearing. Was it a Do or a Don’t? Was it Sexy or was it Skanky? Steep or cheap?
And when I went to put food in my mouth I wondered what kind of fat was in what I was eating. Was it monosaturated fat (a definite DO!). Or saturated or trans fat (A definite DON’T!). Or maybe this was one of those times where I should be “free to be me” and indulge myself.
And then I started to want a boyfriend so I could keep him, ditch him, impress him, delight him, tantalize him, satisfy him, understand him, not cheat on him, know him, blow him, stroke him, poke him.
You get my drift.
Someone send me a book. Stat.
I devoured them.
And then weird things started happening, or rather, strange thoughts started to pop in my head. Like when I went to get dressed, I changed clothes three times because what if what I had one was one of those things in my closet that could make me look chunky? Or maybe I WAS stuck in a rut and not experimenting with color enough preventing me from being a “fun” and “fearless” female.
When I finally got myself presentable and outside I couldn’t help but judge what everyone was wearing. Was it a Do or a Don’t? Was it Sexy or was it Skanky? Steep or cheap?
And when I went to put food in my mouth I wondered what kind of fat was in what I was eating. Was it monosaturated fat (a definite DO!). Or saturated or trans fat (A definite DON’T!). Or maybe this was one of those times where I should be “free to be me” and indulge myself.
And then I started to want a boyfriend so I could keep him, ditch him, impress him, delight him, tantalize him, satisfy him, understand him, not cheat on him, know him, blow him, stroke him, poke him.
You get my drift.
Someone send me a book. Stat.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
sour service
So my friend Brooke came into Paris over the weekend and me and another friend of hers (Nancy) came into Paris to hang out. I arrived in Paris at around 8pm, dropped off my bags in our hotel, and together we roamed the cute little area our hotel was in. We found a quaint alleyway with small shops and restaurants and decided to drop into one of them for some cider and crepes.
Brooke got apple crepes and Nancy ordered lemon crepes (I didn’t order anything since I had just stuffed my face with a Mac Tasty and wasn’t feeling particularly hungry).
So we’re sitting and chatting and their crepes arrive and they chow down when Nancy realizes that her crepe has no lemon flavor to them. The following occurs:
Nancy [to the waiter]: Do you speak English?
Waiter: Yes.
Nancy: Ok. I ordered a lemon crepe but I don’t think there’s any lemon in here. [I have to note here that Nancy is speaking normally]
Waiter: WHOA LADY, RELAX! [whilst throwing hands up in a defense manner and speaking in a tone usually reserved for women in hysterics]
Brooke, Nancy, and I look at each confused like dude, what’s that all about. In the meantime he goes over to the counter, grabs a lemon container about the size of Snapple bottle, comes back to our table and then proceeds to dump about half the contents of the lemon container on to Nancy’s crepe. He would’ve dumped more had she not stopped him. Her crepe is now drowning in lemon syrup.
Waiter: Good?
Nancy: Um. Yeah.
Now I’ve heard about Parisian jerks before but this was my first experience with such an extreme case. For the next half an hour we tried to dissect what had occurred but still could not figure out why he was behaving in such a way.
After Brooke and Nancy finished with their crepes he came to take the plates away and made it a point to politely ask Nancy if she’d like another crepe. She declined.
C’est bizzaire.
Brooke got apple crepes and Nancy ordered lemon crepes (I didn’t order anything since I had just stuffed my face with a Mac Tasty and wasn’t feeling particularly hungry).
So we’re sitting and chatting and their crepes arrive and they chow down when Nancy realizes that her crepe has no lemon flavor to them. The following occurs:
Nancy [to the waiter]: Do you speak English?
Waiter: Yes.
Nancy: Ok. I ordered a lemon crepe but I don’t think there’s any lemon in here. [I have to note here that Nancy is speaking normally]
Waiter: WHOA LADY, RELAX! [whilst throwing hands up in a defense manner and speaking in a tone usually reserved for women in hysterics]
Brooke, Nancy, and I look at each confused like dude, what’s that all about. In the meantime he goes over to the counter, grabs a lemon container about the size of Snapple bottle, comes back to our table and then proceeds to dump about half the contents of the lemon container on to Nancy’s crepe. He would’ve dumped more had she not stopped him. Her crepe is now drowning in lemon syrup.
Waiter: Good?
Nancy: Um. Yeah.
Now I’ve heard about Parisian jerks before but this was my first experience with such an extreme case. For the next half an hour we tried to dissect what had occurred but still could not figure out why he was behaving in such a way.
After Brooke and Nancy finished with their crepes he came to take the plates away and made it a point to politely ask Nancy if she’d like another crepe. She declined.
C’est bizzaire.
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