Life Mechanical

Dear...

2010-02-04T14:35:00.005-05:00

New tradition, sort of like my 10 things, only not at all. I'm going to post 5 open letters at a time, sometimes there might be a theme, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say not often.

Here goes:

This weeks theme is FACE.

Well, then I guess it’s not a very good drinking game. Which would mean, when Barney and I played it last night, I didn’t get super-wasted and throw up all over myself! OH, WAIT. I did both of those things! Sooooooooooo… FACE.

Dear Bryn-Alan Hoebagel,

Thank you for telling me that if I wanted my school photo to be pretty I shouldn't smile so wide because it makes my nose look fatter. Not fat, but fatter. As if there's a certain level of nose fat that I have no control over and will have to forever contend with. Albeit true, it wasn't something that needed to be said to a 9 year old girl. Feel content in the knowledge that a decade later I still sometimes find myself staring at my nose at 3 am, checking it's width in proportion to how fully I'm smiling.

Dear Demented Old Man,

Thank you for being the first person to ask me if "I stood too close behind a cow".

for those of you not bespeckled, and unaware of this "classic" gem, it goes a lil' somethin' like this:

Me: No, Sir.

DOM: No?!

Me: shakes head

DOM: Well then, how DID you get that shit all over your face?

I locked myself in the industrial freezer, as was my custom in times of childhood angst, and cried for two hours straight. I hope my Dad broke your hip when he tossed you out.

Dear Perpetual Fox Racing T'shirt,

Thank you for calling me Yarmulke-girl in high school. Three things:

1) I'm not Jewish.

2) Only men wear yarmulkes. (Well, mostly.)

3) WTF were you getting at anyway?

I feel you were trying to be insulting, but somewhere between point A & B something went terribly, horrifically wrong. I wish no ill toward you, I feel it's already come in the form of basic cognition. Mazel Tov.

Dear Boy Who Tried to Rub My Giant Face Freckle Off,

It's not dirt, but thanks for the concern anyway. Never has something been so sweet and embarrassing at the same time.

Dear Elderly Tollbooth Operator,

Thank you for asking me where I got such a pretty smile. No. Seriously, you made my day.

You May Call Me HOUSE! (aka. How Eli Roth Saved My B.F.F.'s Foot)

2010-01-24T21:27:00.002-05:00

Everyone who has ever had a roommate please raise your hand? Got that, we good? Okay. Keep'em nice and high, where I can see'em. Now, everyone keep your hand up if you have had a roommate who you correctly diagnosed with a flesh eating bacteria? Take a moment. Is it just me now, am I the only one? Frick yeah!

So my roommate has been having some extremely off the wall medical issues lately. Over the last few months she has bounced from one ridiculously unlikely issue to another. At one point her nose kinda sorta exploded a little bit, but as I'm sure all would agree even the slightest nose explosion is not to be taken lightly. This largely was assumed to be the result of either a spider bite, a bad reaction to my dog pulling her nose ring out, and then finally attributed to staff. She's also been bouncing from kidney infection to possible kidney stones. She also has a still seeming unrelated bad back. All very weird for a 19 year old girl. This is the point in the story where I start to gleefully refer to her as grandma in passing conversation.

Grandma, or as all the cool kids are sayin' G'ma, soon developed a new symptom: weird ass looking toes. Now G'ma's toes have alway been a bit funky (being webbed and all - I'm not joking, that's not funny, stop laughing) but they began to turn red, and then kinda brownish and then it would go away for a while, and then boom, it'd be back.

I told her, on more than one occasion, that she should get that checked. I also told her, on more than one occasion, that I was pretty sure that she had Cabin Fever* and that her feet bes' be backin' the hella up off my shiz.** She ignored me on both counts.

But guess what? Seems someone (Grandma) has cellulitis. In truth, all these weird little infections are probably related to that initial one, that never got treated correctly and has now gone into her bloodstream and is manifesting in strange and disgusting ways - like flesh eating bacteria.

Okay. So cellulitis is not technically a flesh eating bacteria, but it in fact can become one if not treated, and it is contagious through direct contact. So there. Close enough. If she had just listened to me and tried to shave her foot she would have known this forever ago.

And Mom said horror movies were useless. Pshh.

Diagnosis: Mom's are NOT always right, my opinions just may save your life, and finally, I'm awesome.

___________________________________________________________

*as in the movie, not how I felt after I beat all my video games over summer vacation every year.

**I have extremely sensitive skin, if I think you're bringing flesh eating bacteria around my biz, things are gonna get realz fast.

Resolution

2010-01-16T17:23:00.004-05:00

I finished writing my New Year's Resolutions today. I know. Most people have already broken all theirs and I'm just getting around to mine. I never make resolutions. I did last year, but I think that was the new blogger in me, wanting an excuse to show off my Google image search skillage.

Truthfully, I've never seen the point. I'm skeptical that a specific date can pull a stand in for a life changing epiphany and cause you to change all the stuff about your life that makes you cringe. I mean, c'mon! But as George S. Patton is accused of saying:

"Watch what people are cynical about, and one can often discover what they lack."

Well ya got me, General.

Thursday night I couldn't be home. I got in my car and drove, I'm still not sure where I actually ended up. A 24 Hour Walgreens parking lot is all I know for certain. Then I just sat there, for hours, hurt and pissed off and wanting to hear anything but what was in my head. I woke up the next day around 4, with what I can only assume was a "life hangover".

I promptly laid in bed all day and watched reruns of Dead Like Me on Hulu. My body let me know it rejected my decision making by spitting out my left contact lens.

Perhaps the reason I reject the idea of yearly resolutions is that I have no resolution. I am neither firm nor determined. In fact, thinking about being either is liable to induce panic. Much in the same way as watching an oodle of Hulu only to realize that you ARE George*,

*For those who've never watched Dead Like Me, George (or Georgia) is the main character, a smart, yet apathetic teenage girl who doesn't realize that she never let herself experience life until after she's dead.

I guess what I'm getting at is life is way too short and I've wasted quite enough of mine anxiously worrying about failing at things I've never taken the chance to try, thank you.

So this year my biggest resolution... is to get some.*

____________________________________

UPDATE!

*Hel-lo. My New Year's Resolution is to *get some* resolve. Thanks Wendiwinn, I didn't mean for my last line to be open to so much interpretation. Or did I?**

**No. No, I did not.

_________________________________________

Pumpkin Goop and Other Such Related Events

2010-01-06T14:41:00.002-05:00

The cold wind blows across the tops of the ever more soup-esque, dead pumpkins as a tumbleweed ambles by... AND SCENE!

I know what you're thinking and yes, they are still there. Even now. Like you've never wanted to see how long it would take for your holiday decorations to just do away with themselves on their own.

It's been a crazy couple months. Let's see...

I went to see Say Anything in St. Pete in mid-November. Where I took these crazy-awesome photos:

My brother and sister and their respective families came down and spent Thanksgiving at my parent's new place. We then returned the favor by going to them for Christmas.

too many nephews... too many nephews.

I spent most of Christmas shooting these little things in the chest with my Nerf rifle, but they just kept coming back!

Around the 5th of December I found this little guy on the side of the expressway. He now belongs to my roommate.

I named him Bug.

Let me see, hmm... there was something else... oh yeah...

I dropped out of school. That's right.

While I should be preparing for a new semester I instead come to you from my rolly chair, clad in my "I'm pretty fly" PJ's while periodically munching on cold, cajun rice.

I'm not saying that I won't go back, I am saying that I will not be going back to the same school. I'm going to take a couple semesters off, make some cash, do something independently and see where I land.

My current thinking may have me moving out of state to try and go to what I hope will be a better learning environment. Somewhere where I don't feel like I'm just doing the same things I did when I was a Digital Design T.A. back in high school, ya know? Kinda sorta wanted to learn things, anyway, lesson learned and I must say I feel better than I have in months, like I actually enjoy stuff or something. Weird.

Anyway, that's where I'm at. If you've read this update, thank you kindly. I didn't have internet for most of those two months, but that's fixed now so things should be returning to normal.

Halloween Photoblog

2009-11-01T21:33:00.000-05:00

My Watermelon (hehe) and then Nikki's two pumpkins.

Megan's two pumpkins and then my little pumpkin

Close up of my pumpkin — made sans stencil... *cough* Megan and Nikki *cough*

The back of Nikki's little pumpkin. Its sort of cuter than the front.

A Sample of Our Fabulous Movie Doings — And My Favorite PJs —

Watched from Our Super Duper Living Room Mega-Bed While We Waited For Trick and Treaters

Okay, Now You've Done It!

2009-10-27T20:58:00.004-04:00

I finished my project for digital layout. All I have to do now is print and assemble it for next week.

I did all my errands.

I put gas in my car before it hit E.

I talked to my mother on the phone today.

I made a freakin' "To-Do List". And then I used it.

All I wanted was to sit back in my computer chair, siphon through Megavideo links until I found something entertaining to watch, and eat some Edy's Slow Churned Rich and Creamy French Silk Ice Cream.

But no. I opened it to find this!:

That whiteness isn't vanilla swirl, peeps. It's the bottom of the tub.

Who does that, by the way? There's two spoonfuls in there. At least if you had emptied it and put it in the trash I wouldn't of had that moment of discovery: snuggled up in my rolly chair, feet up, ready for sci fi adventures. Spoon at the ready.

I'll get you for this, Megan. Some things are sacred. You DO NOT come between me and chocolatey, slow churned goodness. Not now. Not ever.

I asked you. I asked you. Do you want me to pick you up anything from the store while I'm gone? You said no.

There will be retribution... Mark my words, I'll find other uses for that spoon:

... ... ...

That is all.

What is Art, to Me?

2009-10-15T15:37:00.005-04:00

(Short Essay for Post Modernism and Contemporary Art class)

Dictionary.com defines art as “the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance.” But what is an aesthetic principle? Who decides what criteria forms the terms of being above “ordinary significance”, or feels qualified to judge work significantly based on the expression of the artist or artists in question? On the first night of class, the statement was made about “bad art” being something that we are willing to reject, but I have never felt particularly comfortable rejecting another’s efforts. There are things that I like, and there are things that I do not like, but I do not believe that makes the latter “bad art”. I think “good art” is art that has served its purpose, whatever that purpose is, if done justice, quality remains opinion and strictly relative. For example, to me, the definition of making good art and viewing good art are two very different creatures.

To create is to release. It can be both recreational and therapeutic. Why are pastimes like painting and poetry becoming such common tools for therapists and psychologists trying to reach their most troubled patients? To make art can be relieving, even euphoric, to be able to cleanse yourself of whatever emotion, good or bad, that you have had screaming inside of yourself. It can offer a form of closure and no one is qualified to judge that. Which is why I try not to, a piece of art is always hard for me to separate from its creator. However abstract, it is a piece of them. To reject it is to reject a part of another human being, and should not be taken lightly. Any art that meets the needs of its artist is good art in that respect. Everything comes from some place, and having never been to that place, I try not to judge it as good or bad, but rather, as appealing to me or not.

To see good art, or as I have tried to define, art that is appealing to me on a personal level, is to view something that stirs my emotions. Whether that means it has made me sad, happy, or even angry, it has forced me to take the moment to appreciate or at least acknowledge the feelings I experience and the meanings behind them. I believe art can be a very personal thing and is best experienced when viewed as so. I believe in Ms. [my Art History teacher]'s assessment, original or no, that if you feel drawn to a work and you don’t know why, it is because you either don’t know enough about the piece or you don’t know enough about yourself.

When I was eight years old, I had one of those old Jumpstart computer-learning games. I spent hours on it and always on the same level, never moving forward. It was not that I could not go forward; I just did not want to. The game level was home to a fictional museum that you had to explore looking for the painting that corresponded with the question given for the round. Instead of looking for it, I just looked at the artwork. The most famous works scattered in museums and galleries around the world, in one place. I have always loved the French Impressionists, particularly Claude Monet. I used to joke that it was because his world looked just like mine, sans glasses or contacts. Still, I kept returning to A Bar at the Folies- Bergere by Edouard Manet. I would study it repeatedly, looking deep into those girl’s eyes, like points in space, black holes, taking in all that was in their path, returning almost nothing. It was not until hearing a lecture on one interpretation of the painting that it hit me why I felt such a connection to it.

I was such a lonely kid. I spent much of my time alone, or in my mother’s hospital room. I never felt any real connection to the other kids my age, and they sensed that, too, and as some kids do, fed on it as a weakness. All those years, meeting those same large, sad eyes again and again, surrounded by all those other people, had I sensed myself in her? The slight burning in the back of my throat the last time I saw her says yes.

I think we find our own meaning, through words and pictures. Those meanings change, altering with our moods and perceptions as we garner more experience or fracture our images of the world, gaining room for more openness or sometimes less. Sometimes art allows us a meaning that is wholly are own, completely separate from that of its designer. In the same way that we give the opportunity for someone else to see something in our efforts that we did not or could not see ourselves. That does not make either opinion any more or less important, just different. Art is like that: never better or worse based on our views of it, just different. That is what makes it art, at least, to me.

Wake Up The Sleepers

2009-10-09T01:01:00.000-04:00

I finally received my pre-order of Kill Hannah's new album Wake Up The Sleepers, In stores as of October 29th.

It's UHHmazing, but of course I didn't expect anything less.

*cough* Buy it. *cough*

The CD, the signed Pre-Invasion Letter to The Troops, and the individual song art covers.

Having learned that Eve is a Kill Hannah fan I have decided to make her jealous. Just kidding... mostly I just wanted an excuse to post these as well as take a moment to jog down memory lane.

My Curse of Kill Hannah CD signed in '06 & my Hope for the Hopeless Tour DVD signed '09.

These are the only two band photos I can find of the last time I saw them live. (Still kicking myself for not being able to catch them during the Hope for the Hopeless Tour last year.) Consequences of the move, I guess.

That second picture not only houses a very rare documentation of my natural hair color, but a funny story as well.

Notice the face? For the longest time I hated this picture. You see, this was my second Kill Hannah show in as many days and when I asked Mat for a photo, being the genuinely sweet person he seems to be, he of course agreed. What I didn't count on was him asking me if I'd be coming to their next show, too.

I've never been the girl who holds onto the idea that someone will remember me two seconds after I've left their presence. I've been in line with "that girl" for shows and I've never really understood the idea that the guys are supposed to remember me. They see hundreds of girls. I imagine at some point we all just blend together. I REALLY don't understand the girls who get bent out of shape over it. I was surprised he had remembered me when it had been only the night before so I can't see what kind of mentality makes you think that a guys a jerk because he doesn't remember signing your left boob three months ago...

Anyway, that's what my face is. Rachel snapped the picture just as my awkward teenage girl brain tried to formulate sentence structure enough to state something along the lines of "... umm... maybe".

I hated this photo, tongue stuck to the side of my teeth like an idiot, but now when I look at it I can't help but smile, just a little. It's a sweet memory. Kill Hannah is one of my all time favorite bands, they are heinously under-appreciated, the mere fact that these boys don't own the world by now while throw away static pop continues to hit platinum is quite frankly the devil. That being so, I'll probably cherish this photograph forever.

Silly, little girl that I am.

Now, if you excuse me, I have neighbors to wake.

Requiem of the Tide

2009-10-03T01:00:00.006-04:00

While I was staying at my parents a peculiar thing happened.

It was almost dusk, the brown leaves covered the ground and attached to the fibers of my button-up, knit boots as I made my way to the car. It had been a long day full of unanswerable questions, like why I only come home when I run out of clothes, or where all the money in my bank account has disappeared to...

Button-up knit boots?

*Cough*. Pepperoni pizza was needed.

I started the engine and swung into reverse; just then I heard a loud popping sound. I watched through my rearview mirror as an explosion of blue liquid shot into the sky. I turned around in my seat just in time to see the Tarantino-esque spray make its way back to the earth. I sat, thoughts racing:

Oh. my. God.

Did I just manslaughtered a Goblin?

A teensy, weensy aristocrat?

My insurance rates are going to hell.

And finally, my last thought as I surveyed the icy, blue carnage...

Talk about great product placement:

P.S. I'm also going to start publishing some imports from my old blog. They will be tagged "imported"and retain their original posting dates.

Bueller... Bueller...

2009-10-01T00:48:00.002-04:00

I know I've been absent for a bit and while I just know that you've missed my running commentary on all thing innocuous, I really do miss passing a few minutes a day to read over everybody's blogs.

I was only supposed to be at my parents for the weekend, but due to some unforseen family crisis it has been made neccessary for me to stay longer. I should be returning to Tampa tomorrow and while I feel no need to hash out details to the interwebs it has been a very stressful and uselessly dramatic week and will probably continue to be so.

I have some postings in mind, mostly about things on my mind with no particular personal relevance, regardless I should be back and bloggy in not time.

Time to Play Catch Up

2009-09-24T19:32:00.004-04:00

Let me see here. Oh yeah, that's right. I have a blog. Now I remember.

The last couple weeks have been super busy. I'm *finally* completely moved in to my new place. When reading that sentence don't make the mistake of reading that I'm unpacked, or clean, or have a working kitchen sink, just that I, and all my possessions, are here.

I then came down with the flu. Then my roommate came down with a staff infection in her nose. Between the two of us I've been to the emergency room six times in the last two weeks. Luckily that seems to be behind us. Thank Jesus.

I was better in time to make it to Orlando on the 17th to see Kill Hannah open for She Wants Revenge at the HOB. I had a lovely time, too bad my roomie couldn't go. Megan was still too sick so I tried unsuccessfully to scalp her ticket. I'm a good friend like that.

from left: my new friend, LaTisha, Mat from KH, and moi.

After the show I came extremely close to trying to sneak into an after show DJ set across town above the Social, where Kill Hannah's Greg was to be spinning, but the girl's that was going to help me, one being a fellow brown haired, freckled chick with an ID I could use, had to cancel on me. I was pretty bummed about it, but what can you do?

Turned out better in the end actually because when I got home around 2ish my roommate desperately needed a ride to the emergency room so if I had stayed for the "over 21" bit who knows what would have happened to her poor, massively swollen face.

There will be other shows, it's taken me 14 years to break in this friendship just the way I want it.

On a side note: I pretty much hate the House of Blues. It's my least favorite venue. They don't let camera's in, BUT you can take pictures with your phone. How stupid is that?

Kill Hannah's new album drops next week so I'm sure they'll be going out on their own again soon anyway. Hopefully they'll go back to the Social or some other dive-yer club that actually likes it's patrons.

That being said, I'm off to help Megan find a new nose ring. She started working at Busch Gardens last week, and today they made her take it out and now she has an eleven hour shift tomorrow that they expect her to do sans piercing. We have to find a clear holder ring before the mall closes or she's just screwed.

Later.

*Update* Concert Details:

Yes, the show was amazing. She Wants Revenge, quite possibly even better than on CD and with the way Justin was dancing you really couldn't help but join in. It was infectious.

Kill Hannah, which has had my heart for years, still has it. They played two of their older songs "Nerve Gas" and "Hummingbirds the Size of Bullets". Two songs that I never thought I'd have the pleasure of hearing live and together. Can't wait for the new CD pre order to hit my doorstep.

They also had this great opener I had never heard before called Paper Route. Who I have to agree with Mat from KH, should be "fucking adored". Any band that can pull of suspenders while operating a xylophone and an accordion has my props.

Excuse Me

2009-09-15T18:12:00.003-04:00

It's a fact of life. Someone inevitably gets in our way. But what happens when they leave that little speckle of white space, leaving just enough room for us to circumvent them?

You can tell a lot about a person by how they respond to the words "excuse me". I've said it twice today. The first woman pulled the old side step with a quiet "I'm sorry", the second stated "oh, you're okay" while speeding by me, pulling her son behind her, growing arm sockets be damned.

Personally, I belong to the "I'm sorry" group. We are in fact a typically sorry bunch, but it's better than being a member of the always unpleasant "ers" (i.e. grunters, pushers, shovers, movers, etc.). I so desperately wanted to be a member of the "you're fine" group, but alas...

It's a fact of life. Someone inevitably gets in our way. They block our path, they put us on hold, and if you are anything like me you tend to wait it out until they've decided to move along on theirs before regaining yours.

"Excuse me?"

Sometimes you just have to realize that it's yourself you need to get around.

Things I Don't Understand

2009-09-08T16:47:00.003-04:00

I am not an angry person. I am not a hateful person. Even at my lowest, self loathing has always been sufficient enough. So blind hatred has always been a hard concept for me. How can I possibly hate someone I don't know based on some abstract concept of irreconcilability that in the scheme of things is really insignificant? I can never understand why we can't just accept that we are individuals, that we come with varying ideals, moralities, philosophies, wrapped in varying colors, features, etc. We're so busy judging the rest of the world that we are unable to see just how precariously we perch ourselves on our higher ground.

How can someone believe they are better than someone else because they're a member of a particular race, a religion, from a certain country, neighborhood, "clique"? How can someone hurt an innocent person, a stranger, a lover, a child? Life is too short to let hate and fear be our dominant emotions, but look around. Our entire culture is saturated with it. I can't wrap my head around it and I start to feel like I'm the only one, like an outsider that is missing something vital in the translation. I think about the future and there's times when the prospect is terrifying to me. All I've ever wanted was to live a life full of love, laughter, happiness with family and friends who care about each other and accept each other, whether they always agree or not. They need not be numerous, just... there. Dreams can seem impossible, love obsolete in a world that's become blind to it. I know that there are good people in this world, people who do their best to be genuine, but they seem so hard to find sometimes, so few and far between.

I don't understand this world and the more thought I give it the more I don't ever want to start, no matter how cold it leaves me, even if it means that from time to time I have to feel this way, forever. Because the minute I find that I can understand it, then it might mean I'm starting to accept it and I never want to find myself doing that.

September

2009-09-04T20:00:00.004-04:00

...I remember your thread-thin arms
I remember your hands
And how easily it seemed to me
They could rip me open

Baby I`m fallin` away
Baby I`m fallin` away

Wasted my September
With you stuck up in my head
Raced the days closed
In the hopes that the mornings would swell again...

Don't read anything into those lyrics. I just love them. I popped open my planner and saw September and just as quickly they popped into my head.

It's from a song called Loud by Matt Nathanson. That's my favorite section of the song. It's a duet, but I don't know the name of the woman who sings this part, but I love the image created in those first few lines, all that lovely fragility captured in a single moment. You can read something into that if you like, but mostly it just makes me want to curl up somewhere, stare into space, and take Yoga-like breathes of air for no reason at all.

Happy Birthday, Vaderkins

2009-09-01T15:25:00.002-04:00

First off I would like to state that today is not *actually* V's birthday.

It is the anniversary of the day that I brought him home, since I am not sure of his actual birthdate. Besides, I've been working on a theory for years stating that no particular noun actually begins existence until after they have met me so... good enough.

September 1, 2008

Dear Vader,

A year ago today I brought you home. You peed all over my passenger seat. Not much has changed.

I named you Vader because of the design on the back of your neck. It looked just like Yin and Yang and it reminded me of a story that my History teacher Mr. Balk told us about Taoism in relation to Star Wars.

Naming you that was a mistake.

You destroy everything in your path: video games, $100 bills, necklaces, large stuffed animal kangaroos, the alleged goat, just to name a few of your conquests. You are the most whiney, needy, horribly disobedient, destructive animal I have ever met. You make the dog from Marley and Me seem like an angel and you are roughly one third his size.

All the while with those big, greenish brown eyes and that little head tilt and the best puppy cuddles in the world. Which is why I love you anyway, my little alien/chupacabra.

Oh that's right. I'm on to you.

The night I brought you home, you were a tiny , still floppy eared baby chihuahua/"other" mix puppy. Or so I thought. You now weigh roughly twenty pounds, your spine is roughly twice the length it should be, your nose keeps on growing, your legs look like a Corgie's, and your chest is twice as wide as your rear.

You also have bat ears...

November 6, 2008

Even more damaging is that call back to the mother ship with that horrible wookie-esque sound that you make when you're upset with me. No dog ON EARTH makes that sound, but you.

Which made me think. I started trying to decide what your Dad could have possibly been. For a long time I settled on unknown alien specimen who saw a Taco Bell ad from the late 90s and decided to come check out the ladies. Then a couple months back something happened that changed my mind.

You started losing all your hair. All. Of. It.

Do you realize how scary that was for me? I took you to the vet: no mange, no fleas, you were an inside dog, the vet had no clue what could cause that. Luckily a series of random antibiotics and steroids did the trick, but by that time you had lost almost all your hair right up to your neck (which has just now finished growing back).

~~My newest theory~~ The truth had been revealed to me.

I was harboring... El Chubacabra.

Or his bastard offspring, really. That was the truth of the "other" in the chihuahua and "other". Really, how easy would it be for Mr. Chubacabra to gain access to a chihuahua? Even monstrously, hideous beasts of urban lore get lonely. It's perfect. The answer had been right in front of me, it just took a seriously receding hairline to show me the light.

Dad?

Luckily, I think you take more after your Mom so your more annoying and "yippy" than actually dangerous. You've always been sweet and adorable (even if everyone else tells you your misshapen and weird looking), which is why you're still alive after eating not one, but TWO of my DS cartridges. Besides, you're getting better all the time and I think the ol' apartment just wasn't for you. A backyard will serve your energy and my corresponding stress levels well.

Just don't push it, okay?

Happy Birthday, Vaders.

September 1, 2009

Looking Through The Other Side of Up

2009-08-27T21:56:00.004-04:00

I haven't been on much in the last few days, but to check up on things. Unpacking some old boxes I came across a couple would-be journal entries I made earlier this year.

I assume that most of you are bloggers; you are journal writers by heart. Isn't it interesting to be able to travel back, sometimes not even that far, to glimpse what your thoughts were at some, now indiscernible, moment lost to time except by your own account, through your own perception?

I think so.

Are You Pondering What I'm Pondering?

2009-08-24T20:20:00.001-04:00

The other day I awoke to find my morning routine hijacked by one Sid Kane.

She offered to give me a free ride on her crazy train headed directly for "World Domination".

I did not laugh as she accused. Or snarf coffee for that matter. Mostly, because I hate coffee. If it's not in it's ice cream form I simply will not touch it. I am much more the tea drinker as the picture below clearly illustrates:

The horrors that years of hard internet abuse can inflict upon the complexion. And to think this is my senior photo.

I was intrigued. Mostly because of the perks, but nonetheless. If you seriously want my cooperation, Ms. Kane, we have some renegotiating to do. I am a highly sought after henchwoman, after all.

You offered me my own personal Caribbean island. Not bad, but as you could probably ascertain by my screen name I am of Irish descent. If you need a visual, here is a picture of me in Italy... after one day:

I would show you Day 2, but by that time I had disintegrated into a pile of molten ash.

So instead I would like the far more temperate [read: whitie friendly] Canary Islands:

All of them. Pre de-touristed, if you please. I will also need a copy of Rosetta Stone in Spanish, please and thank you.

As to your other promises, the cute men feeding me grapes can stay, I guess.

Also, I don't drink, but I will be needing those cute little umbrellas and some of those plastic swords if you can scare any up.

Always know your worth. ;)

That will be all. For now.

My Mother...

2009-08-22T01:04:00.004-04:00

She's coming to Tampa today to help me finish cleaning out the apartment since my lease is up on the 31st.

This was the closing to an actual conversation with my maternal figure:

Mom: I'll see you tomorrow. I love you.

Me: I love you, too, Mom.

Mom: Is Megan [my roommate] there?

Me: Nope.

Mom: So you're at the house by yourself?

Me: Yep. [Note the monosyllabism. I'm distracted by soup.]

Mom: You feel safe there by yourself?

Me: Sure.

Mom: That's good. (pause) Did you hear about that guy that was murdered?

Me: What?

Mom: Up by the campus. These two guys were stopped by another man who pulled a gun on them and when one of them ran he shot the other one and robbed him.

Me: No, I hadn't heard.

Mom: It was in the newspaper. It happened right by the campus. Not too far from where you are. I'm surprised you didn't hear.

Me: Is the man alright?

Mom: No. He's dead. He didn't shoot the guy who ran. Just the one who stood there. Sort of silly since the other guy had a good description of the robber.

Me: (deciding not to comment on my mother's definition of the word "silly") Oh. So they've caught him?

Mom: No. He's still out there. (another pause) This is why you should have your puppies there with you. To wake you up.

Me: Yeah. Thanks, Mom.

Mom: See you tomorrow. I love you.

Me: I love you, too. Bye.

Mom: Okay, I love you. Be safe.

Me: I will.

Mom: Get some sleep. I love you.

Me: I love you, too, Mom.

It Came from Outerspace...

2009-08-21T01:41:00.003-04:00

It was a plan.

It was the ninth of its kind.

They should have kept thinking.

Tonight - by this time yesterday - I went to see Rifftrax Live: Plan 9 From Outerspace. It was UHH-mazing. It was a lot of fun to see it on the big screen, surrounded by the laughter of complete strangers. There was even a zombie sing-a-long before the feature film, truly awful stuff that. I love seeing movies like this in the theatre, where the laughter gets that really wonderful, infectious quality. You know? Somethings are just funnier in large groups.

Not that there isn't something to be said for watching a beloved film with a couple close friends. I like to gauge people's reactions to things, see if they find the same things as amusing as me. I love to watch a movie and then show it to someone, I spend more time watching them out of the corner of my eye then the movie at that point.

But I digress...

It was great to see the old Mystery Science Theatre 3000 gang. Even if I felt a little odd seeing Bill Corbett and Kevin Murphy instead of their respective robot counterparts, Crow T. Robot and Tom Servo. I worshipped this show when I was a kid.

Back when it was on Sci-Fi. Back when Sci-Fi had good programming. Back when it actually was "Sci-Fi".

Um...what was I saying?

Oh yes, great time at the movies. Forgive the rambles. I realize they mean nothing to the four people who read this.

And Wendiwinn. As far as I can tell she's a lactose intolerant rooster who's fond of cheese, wearing large fake mustaches, and quite ambiguously, liking "stuff".

Onward!

I have an audition tomorrow to become a member of the "Scare Squad" for Howl-O-Scream '09 at Busch Gardens in Tampa. Please wish me luck. I think it would be a lot of fun if I could get through the audition intact. I'm very nervous.

10 Things That I Learned From District 9 That I Pretty Much Knew Already Or Would Have At Least Guessed At...

2009-08-18T04:46:00.016-04:00

1. Smiles are cheaper than bullets.

2. Paper mache equals love.

3. Do not touch cylindrical objects that belong to aliens unless you want the shiz-esque substance to hit ~~the fan~~ your face.

4. Cat food is gross.

5. In-laws are evil.

6. So are big corporations. (Combine the two and yo' best run, Wikus!)

7. Babies, regardless of whether they are terrestrial or not, are always adorable.

8. If you want to eat other people's body parts bad things will happen to your brain. (Typically from developing a case of prion disease, but in this case from having explodie bits entering it at high speeds.)

9. It is darn near impossible to get good fast food service. (This is in no way ~~intentionally~~ related to #8.)

and...

10. That people are cruel and ignorant to those who do not fit the concepts they are willing to understand, and by extension the more "alien" they are forced to become the more "humanity" they gain.

(I know. I'm deep like that, dudes.)

Watch the movie. It was awesome for all the reasons I wasn't expecting as well as all the ways I was.

Hope you're not squeamish.

*Note: The first two pics are poorer quality because I screen captured them off a Youtube video.

I'm just hardcore like that.

"Bad" Habit

2009-08-14T14:58:00.003-04:00

I haven't really been feeling up to snuff the last few days... whatever that means, and I'm not proud, but I've allowed myself to relapse into some less than helpful habits. I didn't plan to do it. I was just driving back from the apartment to the new house, still quite stressed out by how much stuff I still have to move, when the thought popped into my head: Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to pick up something to take the edge off. I convinced myself a short detour wouldn't hurt anything; I probably wouldn't actually get anything anyway.

Next thing I know I'm back in the car harboring a mixture of happiness and disappointment over my lack of willpower. As I wormed my way through the ridiculous after work traffic I could feel my fingers start to twitch, wanting to rip open the lovely green bag tucked neatly and discretely into my knapsack.

I realize that with all the things that have to be done by the end of this month now is really not the time to waste and God knows I didn't need to spend the money, but I'm only human.

Besides... the paperbacks were buy one get one half off and I had a special savers coupon.

Tiny Things

2009-08-12T20:47:00.002-04:00

It's strange, really, how little it takes.

It's not always some grand gesture of the universe that sends you shrinking, trying to understand why you can all of a sudden feel the backs of your own eye sockets. In my experience the culprit is usually without question something minute, that any other day would have been shrugged off and left forgotten, but for some reason , on this particular day, the vulnerability is there to allow that one tiny thing to tunnel its way into your synapses, tugging at the wires until it has successfully made its self the only thing you can focus on.

Before long it releases its hold on your core just enough to give all the other little things a chance to lower themselves down upon your chest as well. All the little things that formed that opening, that vulnerability, in the first place. A thousand tiny, tiny things.

10 Things That Make Me Happy

2009-08-10T13:32:00.001-04:00

The way pillows feel after a long day.

Graphite under my fingernails.

My nephews pulling at my arms.

Poorly made horror movies by people who knew they were making poorly made horror movies.

Poorly made horror movies by people who didn't know they were making poorly made horror movies.

Taking photographs.

The smell of rain on a muggy day.

My new, little hamster friend up there in the corner.

People who smile awkwardly when they're nervous.

and finally

....

While searching for an image to properly demonstrate the concept of "sad" I realized that pictures of crying babies make me unbelievably happy.

Exhibit A:

*the above image was found on stock.xchng, a great site to find free stock images if your conscience is getting tired of stealing copyrighted ones from Google Image Search.

You know who you are. :)

This one is from user thiquinho.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

2009-08-08T12:30:00.001-04:00

Nikki's birthday was last week and since neither Megan or myself could come see her then we all met up yesterday for pizza and movies. Only Megan had some things to take care of so she left the trip to Blockbuster up to Nikki and me. Bad move, friendo. After about an hour of debate we left with three titles:

The Good:

El Orfanato (The Orphanage) - I've been meaning to watch this one for a while and it turned out to be really good. I officially get why Bloody Disgusting called it a feel good horror movie. It was really enjoyable and had that old horror feel, where the need isn't felt to just unleash a fire hose of blood and gore on the audience. Nothing against that really, just sometimes it's nice to have a little, you know, plot? Also, the visuals are great. The kind of movie where you just want to stop and look around for a moment. Don't let the fact that it's completely in Spanish stop anyone from seeing it. That's why God invented subtitles and the acting is so well done you'll sort of forget about that anyway. I completely recommend it. This movie is a genuinely creepy ghost story that at times is down right beautiful.

The Bad:

Toybox - Don't do it, kids. When my friends insisted on watching it through to the end I had to leave for a few minutes and check my email. Otherwise, my head may very well have caved in. All these little seeds of plot, going in a thousand different directions, there has to be a point, there just has to be, this is all going to make sense any minute now it's all going to add up.... any minute.... any....

Nope. Never did. And let me say, I love bad horror movies, but there are two types of really bad horror movies. The kind where you can giggle yourself into a state of uncontrolled muscle spasm and the kind where you are just sort of left staring at a blank screen asking why Jesus would let something so stupid exist. This is the latter. Just don't. You probably never would have, but let me tell you now. Don't.

The Ugly:

The Gingerdead Man - Gary Busey. That's all I needed to know. I didn't even realize that instead of the gingerbread man it was in fact the gingerdead man until Nikki and I got back to Megan's house. Blatantly stealing from Child's Play this thing is a pile of crap, but they knew it. Unlike Toybox, this thing never intended to be something it was not. It was suppossed to be horrible. The killer is a 12 inch tall Gingerbread cookie with the voice stylings of Gary Busey. It succeeded, complete with stupid kid who accidently releases ancient curse, drunken "mama" stock character, people trying to fix the power outtage when the lights are obviously on whereas the flashlights are obviously off, and a whip cream body suit complete with cherry pasties. I suggest watching it with friends. It's worth the two bucks from Blockbuster if you enjoy that sort of thing.

I think I'm going to go wake them up now, their sleepyness is way less important than my loneliness and I'm bored.

Bye Bye.

Picture Blog: New House; Old Friends

2009-08-07T16:41:00.005-04:00

Yesterday my friends Megan and Rachel came to Tampa to sort of "deflower" the new house. Rather than write a long winded account of the day, I figured I'd just post these instead:

The David Bowie belt that I gave Megan.

The charm set that I gave Rachel.

Bowling:

Not a bad start for my first real bowling experience. Who says video games are useless?

And then out to dinner at Moe's:

Yum. Yum.

After that, we went to rock some Q-ZAR laser tag, but alas, no photos of us in our super cute neon green vibrator packs and gear.

...but trust me: It was good. :)

Fin.

10 Things That Make Me Sad

2009-08-06T04:11:00.001-04:00

Commercials for the ASPCA.

When the person sitting next to me comes back from break smelling like cigarettes.

That Megan and Nikki no longer allow me to choose movies for us to watch because they believe my judgement to be deeply and horrifically compromised.

That people find it so weird that I don't drink.

When *certain* people are systematically rude without provocation.

That Reaper was cancelled while Degrassi is getting it's own ABC Family original movie.

That there's such a huge age gap between me and my siblings.

That chocolate is fattening.

That Sci Fi changed their name to SyFy.

That I'm still awake.

Next list... 10 Things That Make Me Happy.

Stay Tuned.

Or check back later.... whatever works best for you.

About Life Mechanical

2009-08-04T22:44:00.005-04:00

What is "Life Mechanical"?

The name: A random scribble-thought made at 4am in my collage notebook. Yes, I own such a thing. No, it's not as cool as it sounds.

The blog: Dribble. What are you even doing here?

What is "Irish Chick Soup"?

The name: A moniker hard earned from an inside joke poorly formed between two young leprechauns in an empty pizza palour after an unfortunate giggle fit during a class reading of Johnathon Swift's A Modest Proposal.

The Person: Graphic Design student who gets bored and writes dribble for random strangers to read/not read as the soda cans slowly begin to pile up around her. She DOES NOT know what she's doing or why she's typing about it in third person.

Mission Statement:

I'll let you know as soon as I get one of those.

*

I'd Be More Offended If It Wasn't True...

2009-08-04T15:21:00.006-04:00

East Coast, West Coast. Pfft.

Gulf of Mexico, Sucka.

I Want Him.

2009-08-03T22:50:00.005-04:00

Oh look, Megan, it's the url for the Etsy page this little cutie resides at. How odd!

Dearest Meg,

As I'm sure that you are aware, the deflowering of the new house/triple birthday party is this coming Thursday. Names have been drawn and you, having baked the cake last time, need to get me a lil' somethin' somethin'. Especially since you skipped out on Christmas without me so much as saying a peep. (Okay, so there was a little peeping, but it didn't get me anywhere.)

I know, I know. I'm not easy to buy for. If there was only some way that I could give you an obnoxiously obvious hint, the kind you've been begging me for over the course of our thirteen years of friendship, thirteen years of giving you some pretty freakin' A presents I might add... but how to deliver such a hint?

Think, Kaylynn, think!

P.S. Feel free to make Rachel go in halfsies.

*the photo of the little guy above comes from dancesippydance's Etsy page. I know what you're thinking and, yes, he does have a brother.

State Changes

2009-08-03T21:40:00.001-04:00

When I was a wee young'un I would take ice cubes in the palms of my hands and hold them under warm water. Why?

'Cause I was weird. Lay off. It was that or drugs, okay?

Anyway, this is going to be my new journal home. I may transfer some of my old posts over, maybe not. Haven't really decided yet. I felt like it was time for a new start, you know? My old blog felt a little stale and a bit like I was letting too much effect what I did and didn't say on it, which lead to me not writing anything on it for about two months, and that just won't do so... meh.

That is all, friendos. Come back soon, ya' hear.

Lemonade, Anyone?

2009-01-04T19:27:00.001-05:00

What's that you see? Why it's a Lemonade Award!

Me, being silly and semi new to the blog world didn't realize that being nominated meant I actually got the award. >.<>

Seriously, read through the sex and relationships section sometime, no where else will you find such a plethora of terrifying and dangerous misinformation. You can practically hear the teen pregnancies occurring.

um... that was poor word choice... onward!

THANK YOU SO MUCH LANA!!!

I love your blog, it's always funny and even though you claim to not be a strong writer you are not fooling anyone, missy.

If I understand the rules this is where I nominate 10 blogs that I think have just the right amount of lemon and sugar to make the perfect summery treat.

I'll start with my three favorite fellow Floridians, gotta be keepin' it real for my peeps after all (please pretend you didn't read that):

Mary @ Mary the 1st, I am I am - Definitely one of my favorite blogs. No one rocks the picture list quite like this girl... and I miss the Christmas music already.

Kelsey @ K...Is Not Your Average Girl - both of us are 18, both of us are "K"s, both exhibit an unnatural love of shoes, live in Florida, smash our cameras, and are unable to tan...separated at birth? I believe so.

Jennifer @ Team Martin In A Nut Shell - Jen goes to the same art school as me and is in the Digital Photography program. She never updates enough, but when she does she's worth it. Her and her husband are working on their own Photography business. She's an awesome girl and super talented. She's actually how I heard about blogger.

Vodka Mom @ I Need a Martini Mom - If my kindergarten teacher had been this badass I would have never left.

Kristina P. @ Pulsipher Predilections - One of my first bloggy loves. She's smart and super hilarious. I'd tell you to visit her blog, but I know that EVERYONE already does. Just don't look at her jello recipes...

DrowseyMonkey @ well... DrowseyMonkey - Go for the penguins; stay for the sexy Neil Diamond stories.

Being Brazen - Her pictures crack me up, as do her lists, current addictions, and general randomness.

Carolina Girl @ Ramblings of a 30-Something Year Old Girl - ... and fantastic ramblings they are. I love her blog, great pictures, videos, and crazy cats. It's a good thing I have allergies or they would soooo turn up missing.

Penny Lane @ She Is Anyway - this girl's got everything: smart, witty observations, pop culture references, great taste in music, and just plain awesomeness.

Sarah @ Lemony Life - I don't scour the internet for new funny videos anymore, I just checkup on this blog. Plus she has lemon right there in the name... how can I resist?

And so there they are. Check 'em out!

Death or Glory

2008-12-21T11:18:00.001-05:00

"...From every dingy basement on every dingy street

I hear every dragging handclap over every dragging beat

That's just the beat of time-the beat that must go on

If you been trying for years-then we already heard your song...

How death or glory becomes just another story..."

"Death or Glory" by The Clash (but I must say I love Social
Distortion's version)

Blargh.

I don't know I guess I always expected something different, something more. Like once I got "out of the house" that I'd feel...better.

What I feel is awkward and scared. Have I made the right decisions? Do my decisions even matter anyway? If I was still in high school then I would be halfway through "the school year", a period of time that had previously always seemed distant, unattainable. My days counted out in tally marks on a prison wall. All the other years it took what felt like years to get to Christmas vacation, this year it took seconds. After all, I just graduated ~~seven months ago~~ yesterday.

Everyone always talks about how the moment high school is over everything starts moving at light speed, the years just melt into one another until you have no idea where the time went. I thought it was an exaggeration, some bullshit that parent's tell their children to scare them into enjoying the time that they felt they personally squandered...it's not. And what have I done with mine?

I feel the itching in my skin, my fingers twitch, I can barely keep my legs still. From anticipation? Maybe. From anxiety? Definitely. I can feel this need building up inside of me, but I don't know what it's for.

Ah...Relief

2008-12-19T21:32:00.001-05:00

Christmas vacation, you are mine at last.

Goodbye to Mr. _____ and his "nudie" models, how I will miss ~~checking out your bum~~ thee.

Goodbye to Mr. _____, even if his painting of the woman with a pig face tied to a chair sort of freaked me out when I Googled his artwork at the beginning of the semester. You're rad and I'm glad I have you again next semester.

Goodbye to Mr. _______ and your little asides that no one seems to get but me and two kids who sit in the back.

Goodbye to Mr. _____ and his overuse of the word "delicious". (For example, my CD jacket design project: "This is some seriously juicy work. These graphics are just delicious.") You make me giggle, Sir, and I will miss your class and our impromptu "field trips" to YouTube.

Goodbye to Mr.-Super-Duper-Adorable-Redhead that works at the school store, and who I wish I had the nerve to ~~smex silly~~ talk to. Thanks to you I've probably gained five pounds in soda pop. Also, I love how the same day that I finally actually talk to you, as in more than the usual "Hi, How are you?" "Good, and you?" routine, I learn that you will no longer be servicing the school store and by extension no longer um...servicing... my bored and idling brain. Alas, I shall oogle you no more.

*Yes God, I can hear you laughing at me up there. You are NOT funny. All I'm asking is for you to throw me a bone every now and then, as many chuckles as you get out of me I don't think it's that much to ask. I know I don't have a shot with Red, but do you have to take away my eye candy?*

Where was I....Oh yeah...Goodbye to computer meltdowns, to Trojan viruses that attacked my hard drive three days before finals rendering me unable to get to any of my work.

Goodbye to printers that you literally have to give a good swift kick to get to work Where is the Fonz when my English paper is due in T minus 3 seconds and the printer is just spewing blanks because some newb has clogged it up again?

Goodbye to graphite stained fingernails, and to extended deadlines. I still don't have my computer fixed and have stooped to borrowing the roomies.

I think tonight I will go to sleep and stay that way for more than four hours for the first time in a week. Tomorrow I'm going to do some Christmas shopping and start packing to go to my sister's. I'm going to cuddle those nephews as much as I can while they still let me. (Even if they insist on beating me up first...)

I don't know how busy the next few days are going to be so in case I forget to mention it later I hope that everyone gets what they wanted, but more importantly I pray that everyone has a happy - and safe - holiday.

Merry Christmas and whatever it is you celebrate let the sentiment be the same. <3

Check Out My New Banner And What Not!

2008-12-15T22:28:00.001-05:00

First off, remember how I walked into a pencil sharpner last Tuesday? Well this is what it looks like now:

In case you were curious... I realize now that if I ever get married everyone is just going to assume he beats me. "Oh...I...tripped and hit a pencil sharpner..."

"Likely story, Ma'm."

I'm feeling pretty productive...tired, but productive. Finals are this week and then I'm going up to my sister's house for Christmas and I cannot wait!

Lucky for me, end of quarter doesn't seem to be hitting me as hard as most seeing as I've been routinely watching the sunrise for the past few weeks so it's not killing me that finals mania is in full swing - the up side of insomnia? Maybe...maybe O.o I'm not too concerned though. I know enough by now that I'll crash out eventually, until then I might as well ride it out in fashion.

For example, I wrote a 900 word paper, argumentation in APA format thank you very much, in a little over three hours, a 700 word one in a little under one hour, checked out my teacher's ass for what has to be the four millionth time (and I don't even have that class today *wink*) and then drank a peppermint white chocolate mocha from Starbucks and giggled a bit to myself when it reminded me of some scenes from Zack and Miri Make A Porno. De-licious.

I then took my English final in 53 minutes and spent the rest of the time in the computer lab making this awesome banner for my blog:

Knowing that I couldn't put it up quite yet, since it clashes with my Christmas vibe, I altered it into what should appear at the top in my header. I'm quite proud of them.

Oh and did I mention I saved a turtle from near certain death on the highway yesterday?

Life is good, my friends. Life. Is. Good.

It's One Of Those Days...

2008-12-13T23:48:00.001-05:00

Do you know the kind I'm talking about?

The kind where you were suppossed to wake up nice and early so you could get everything you needed done before driving to your parent's house to see relatives you haven't seen in a very long time, who have decided to drop by unannounced at the last minute...only to wake up at 12:15 p.m.

The kind of day where you rub the sleep out of your eyes only to have one of your contacts flop out of your eye and land God only knows where.

In which you then are unable to get the other contact out so after 10 minutes of clawing at your eye socket, leaving it a bright, angry red color, you just decide to leave it there and pop a fresh one in the other eye.

Where you then hop in the shower only to learn after you get out that your darling puppy snuck in and stole the underwear you set out to change into once you were finished.

Where after a series of unfortunate events ranging from a man crashing into your parents property line fence to having to go twenty minutes out of your way because of a road block you finally get to see your cousin, a girl a little under two months older than you who at one point in your life you were extremely close to until she moved away, is still taller, skinnier, and prettier than you could ever be and you realize that the two of you have virtually nothing to say to each other after having not been in the same room with one another for over two and a half years.

You know...that kind of day? Well, it's been one.

I Just Shamelessly Ate A Pint Of Cookie Dough Ice Cream...

2008-12-09T01:40:00.001-05:00

I'm having an awkward day so instead of actually posting about it I stole this Christmas survey from Saylor Days in hopes that in might put me in the Christmas cheer.

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? I LOOOOVE wrapping paper. My mom got lazy one year so I actually wrapped my own presents….and everyone elses. It’s like origami for Jesus!
2. Real tree or Artificial? No tree this year it would seem, but it’s artificial. It’s easier, reusable, and I have allergies. >.< *
3. When do you put up the tree? Last minute. >.<
4. When do you take the tree down? February >.<
5. Do you like eggnog? I do but it’s so strong. I usually buy a small bottle and then sip at it for a few weeks.
6. Favorite gift received as a child? Either my nintendo, my first cd player/boom box (from my brother and sister), or my Virgin Mary necklace.
7. Hardest person to buy for? My dad. The man literally wants nothing.
8. Easiest person to buy for? Rachel.
9. Do you have a nativity scene? …I would like one. Does that count?
10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Neither… >.<
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Hmm. I’m not sure. I do hate gift cards.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie? All the clayamation movies…though they do start to blend together.
13. Hey! there's no 13 here! I am soooo NOT going to renumber this thing.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? No. I’m a pack rat.
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? My dad’s ham steaks. It is the shiz.
16. Lights on the tree? Of course. Two threads: colored and white.
17. Favorite Christmas song? Silent Night
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? We usually stay home, but all the fam is going to my sister’s house in Georgia.
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's? Rudolph, Dasher, Donner Blitzen, Prancer, Vixen, Cupid, Comet….?
20. Angel on the tree top or a star? We have three. Two angels (one white and one gold) and a star. The white angel goes up on the tree, but I always put the star and the golden angel on the mantle so they don’t feel left out.
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Morning all the way.
22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? The fact that everyone goes so crazy and over the wrong stuff.
23. Favorite ornament theme or color? I like the little balls that have Christmas scenes inside them, Santa and Mrs. Claus ornaments are always a big hit. I also have this really great ornament that has a bunch of elves all bent over a pool table playing 8 ball.
24. Favorite for Christmas dinner? I’ll say it again: Dad’s. Special. Ham.
25. What do you want for Christmas this year? A camera or a video ipod.
26. Who is most likely to respond to this? Kristina P. She’s the queen of the blogosphere.
27. Does Santa wrap your gift or leave them unwrapped? Forget Santa. I wrap them.

*this (>.<) is my doh! face.

10 Things I Can Not Say No To...

2008-12-07T15:08:00.001-05:00

In no particular order:

1. A bubble bath complete with candles/incense and my favorite CD.

2. Anything that comes out of my nephews' cute little faces.

3. Furry creatures.

4. Themed movie marathons.

5. A brown eyed boy. ;P

6. An afternoon nap

...possibly with said brown eyed boy. *shifty eyes* A girl can dream, can she not?

7. A second helping of my sister's ooie gooie this Christmas.

8. Vader. (Well, I can say it, just...nothing happens.)

9. Procrastination. Which is why I'm writing this list rather than doing my English paper.

10. Sticking my feet up on the back of the theatre seat in front of me. (When no one is in that row, of course.)

Nice Knowing You, Self Esteem

2008-11-30T22:42:00.001-05:00

Almost everytime I use my Myspace account this ad invariably appears on my sidebar.

I will be the first to admit that I am anything but the ideal, but come on people! Let's take advantage of a site who's target demographic includes an insane number of young and often very impressionable, teenage girls to run an ad that pairs the above image and the word "over-weight". (Personally, I would die of happiness if I could fit into this chick's above designated "fat pants".) Body image bombs away!

Chocolate anyone?

The Reason God Gave Us Friends

2008-11-28T18:59:00.002-05:00

So they can send us sthuff like this:

Ya' buy one unicorn t'shirt...and have one unicorn key chain...and draw one unicorn tattoo (not even for you)...and it's like an issue or something.

Thanksgiving Recap

2008-11-27T21:28:00.001-05:00

I hope everyone had a great holiday. All in all, ours turned out better than expected.

Wednesday: I ended up meeting with some friends for a teenager only Thanksgiving. Four girls, one turkey, one massive food fight.

I'm not sure how it started exactly. One moment everyone was sitting at the table enjoying their pecan pie and arguing over how well the cool whip was being dispensed when Nikki decided that Megan's face needed some. Megan ran outside carrying a full tub of cool whip as we tried to figure out what we could chase her down with. I scooped the whip cream off the top of my pie and lead the charge outside...leading Meg to dump half the tub directly on to my chest. Not exactly a smart idea seeing as I now had half her ammo (and what a convenient little shelf for it too! :P). Next thing I know everyone is scooping whip cream off each other and smashing each other in the face with it.

The end? Of course not.

Megan went to take a shower, leaving the three of us messy and alone to plot. Nikki had opened the bathroom door and had socked Megan right in the back with the last of the whip cream, but it just wasn't enough. Nikki said that we should wait until she got out and then jump her, but with what? That's when I saw the jar of peanut butter sitting on the counter. just then we heard the water cut off. What we didn't count on was that she was armed, too: shaving cream. The smelly kind. As she creamed Cora in the face I smashed two giant handfuls of peanut butter on head. Leading her to come at me with the rest of the pecan pie, despite my attempts to hide behind Nikki. (She ducked - traitor.)

Thursday: For dinner we went to Carmela's, a small Italian restaurant. I was a little wary... turkey ravioli? stuffing lasagna? It was actually really good.

On a more serious note: My sister and her family came down. It was good to see them, I just wish it had been under better circumstances. My brother in law's honorary grandmother passed away, the funeral is tomorrow so they drove down to be with his mom. They stopped and had lunch with us before continuing South. If anyone reading this is in the habit of taking prayer requests, it would be much appreciated if you could pass some their way. I know today must have been very hard for their family. Hopefully, we should see them again before they head back to Georgia.

CoughCough*

2008-11-25T23:23:00.001-05:00

I've never been a big fan of perfume. I don't wear it personally. I figure my shampoo and soap do the job. Maybe it comes from having really bad allergies as a kid or from my mother's overpowering love of Obsession by Calvin Klein. Or possibly because my skin's so sensitive I don't bother to run the risk of buying something that may just end up making me itch. Whatever the reason, I prefer to go without. This being said, gentleman, when I drive by you...in my car...with the windows up...I should not be able to smell you and I sure as hell should not be able to smell you so well that I can decipher not only that you've drowned your self in cologne, but that your ~~poison~~ brand of choice is AXE Essence. The prefered amount is spritz spritz, not glug glug. No?

Also, I was reading LemonySarah's blog and she had a thing up where you are suppossed to post the sixth photo from your sixth photo album . So here goes:

It just so happens that my sixth album in my Pictures album is intitled "Avvie Love" and is a collection of adorable pictures/avatars that I have collected off the interwebs. Now it's your turn. If you do so, leave me a comment so I can check your blog post out.

Thanksgiving

2008-11-24T22:59:00.001-05:00

I really should be working on my sketch for tomorrow's class, but in a last ditch effort to procrastinate I've been surfing the blog world. I'll undoubtedly end up polishing it off over reruns of Fraiser, The Golden Girls, and The Nanny far into the wee hours of the morning. In the mean time I'll write here.

It's been an odd couple days. On a high note I spent an amicable day with my mom surfing the isles of my hometown’s Seafood Festival. Where I bought part of what will become my niece’s birthday/Christmas present pack extravaganza (I’d post what it is, but I don’t want her to happen across this and ruin the surprise), approximately 20 new books for about 8 bucks, a crab cake burger, a super cool ring that’s shaped like a bird taking flight, and some very pretty bracelets.

On an extremely low note I lost one of my little girls, Penelope. For those of you who don't know, i.e. everyone, Penelope was a very sickly hairless rat, and despite the fact that she had stopped growing in size months ago and that her weight fluctuated constantly I was still sort of blindsighted. She's been sick pretty much the entire time that I had her so I guess I just figured she'd continue to pull through. She was always very active and so affectionate. She will be missed. I just wish that I had taken some pictures of her.

I can't believe this year is almost over. It doesn’t feel like Thanksgiving to me. It’s weird. I remember when I was a kid, there was always this big to do, unorthodox sure, but it was a big deal. All the relatives would come to my parent’s restaurant, which would have closed after the last of the afternoon coffee drinkers filed out, and we would set up this huge buffet in the back with all this amazing food and we’d spread out all across the dining room, and Uncle Albert would say grace and we’d all eat Aunt Shirley’s cherry cheesecake and lather absolutely everything in my Dad’s special ham sauce.

This year we’re going to a restaurant. Just me and the ‘rents. Enough said.

As God is my witness someday, my family, I’ll have a Thanksgiving that would make the most desperate of the housewives blush with shame. I’ll even let people watch football if they must. The perfect stereotypical holiday will be mine I say!

Okay, so it’ll never happen, but I’m damn sure going to buy myself a can of cranberry sauce even if I won’t have anything to put it on this year.

These Are The Moments That Make The Other Moments...

2008-11-18T11:00:00.001-05:00

I've been super sick the last couple days, and though I won't bore you with all the gory details it's needless to say that when I heard my phone ring this morning I was not a happy camper. I had that brief moment in which I debated even answering it, but luckily I did. This is basically what happened.

Me: Hello?

Chance: AUNT KATIE!!!

Me: Chancey?

Chance: Aunt Katie, will you come for Christmas and make us a gingerbread house? You have to make a gingerbread house with us.

Me: Sure, of course I'll come.

Chance: Okay. Aunt Katie, but you have to wait for Christmas. You have to wait and come and make it on Christmas because then it will be snowing.

Me: Okay.

Chance: I love you, Aunt Katie. Do you want to talk to Steven?

Which I did, but he couldn't understand what I was saying so he said he loved me and then handed the phone to my sister.

Steven and Chance

Last Christmas I decided to make a gingerbread house with my nephews for Christmas and it didn't turn out the way that I had intended. I was called into work on Christmas night and was unable to organize the way that I had wanted. So when I did get home, I was on a time crunch, (the boys were only going to be at our house for the night and then they were going to spend Christmas Day with "the other grandma"), I didn't have all the stuff that I wanted, and was genuinely stressed out. I had wanted to do something special for them and it looked like everything was going to turn out the direct opposite of how I planned it. I decided to make the best of it and not give in to my black cloud that had been circling my head for the last several hours as I had numbly ran last minute Christmas presents under the scanner and reshelved all the things that the shoppers didn't realize they didn't need until they reached the front of the service line. So I sucked it up and we forged on and in the end everything worked out, even if the high saliva content made the whole thing inedible:

Chance, Steven, and Me: Ginger Ewww...

Well, apparently he was in the car flipping through a magazine and saw a gingerbread house, he then told Charlem, ma big sister/his mommy, that he had to call me and remind me that we had to make another one this Christmas. I couldn't help but feel all warm and fuzzy that my five year old, four at the time, nephew now equates me with cake frosting and ice cream cone Christmas trees and for the moment let me forget I've lost all ability to feel my nose. :)

It sort of makes you think. What to me was a very muffed up day had still, at least in one respect, gone exactly as planned.

My niece Emily with the finished product

It Happened One Night: Clark Gable Was The Shiz.

2008-11-12T17:23:00.001-05:00

Now this, gentlemen, is what a real pimp looks like. :D

Gene Harlowe, Claudette Colbert, Jeanette MacDonald, Joan Crawford, Greta Garbo, and of course Carole Lombard. Weep my friends, weep.

Lazy day today. Woke up late, read some short stories and then rented It Happened One Night. Super cute movie, starring - you guessed it- Clark Gable and the adorable Claudette Colbert. It swept the Oscars in 1934. It's about a little rich girl who runs away so she can get back to her "secret" husband before her father can have the wedding annuled, but of course who should she run into along the way but Gable, a newspaper man whom she of course can't help but fall in love with. And vice versa.

Useless Fact: Clark Gable served in the Air Force during World War II, during this time Hitler set up a reward to anyone who could bring him Gable alive: "That sonofabitch'll put me in a cage and charge 10 marks a look all over Germany!" I won't go into what it's rumoured Hitlers true intentions were...*shudders*

Anyway, I love this crap so just go rent the movie. It's a good afternoon.

Remembering My Papa

2008-11-10T12:40:00.004-05:00

Yesterday I was looking through some old photographs from when I was a kid and I came across a picture of me when I was a toddler sitting with my Papa Charlie. I thought about him off and on all day and I realized something that made me very sad. I’ve lost a lot of my memories of my Papa. He died when I was eight; he was the only grandparent I ever got to know. Everyone else died before I was born except for my maternal grandmother, but I have no memory of her. So I just wanted to take this opportunity to think about him and write down what I can about him while I still can, that way I’ll never be able to forget how amazing he was.

Me and Papa

I remember that he smelled good, even if I can’t remember what he smelled like. When I think about him I think of the colors red and brown. I’m not sure why.

I remember that he wasn’t a big man. He was short and very “furry”. He always wore collared shirts, the kind with the pocket on the chest.

I remember his nose. He had the biggest nose I had ever seen. I convinced myself that if I sat there long enough I could watch it grow, after all he had told me that it grew larger as he got older, and everyone knows that Papas never lie. I was terrified that someday my nose would be as big as his. It's not...yet. ;)

I remember him always asking me “Do you want to hear a dirty joke?” and everyone would grimace and I would of course say yes and his answer would always be “a pig…just fell in the mud!”

Whatever he cooked, it would be mixed together (for example baked beans and hamburger helper stewed together in a giant pot. yum yum - gag.) and whatever he cooked... "it"... would be "goulash". IT'S GOULASH; DON'T QUESTION IT! ;)

Instead of saying I'm going to beat your ass he said "I'm gon' beatdy ass!" Yeah, you go ahead and try to take that seriously.

I remember his lottery tickets and his circus peanuts and his caramels with the white centers. He was always good for a good sugar fix.

I know that he was German, and that his family came to the US and then he enlisted in the Army. I can't imagine having to see your countrymen, family, neighbors, your history cast in the shadow that he must have. I remember that he still had shrapnel in his shoulder from World War II. That if you pushed down on his shoulder blade you could sort of feel it, but he wouldn't talk about it.

I remember that when me and my cousins would play hide and go seek I would always hide at Papa’s and he would never, ever tell on me. I knew I was his favorite... well next to my brother, but whatever. :P

I can remember his record player that set on the table next to his bed and sitting outside his motel room watching the heat lightning. Mom always hated that. She thought we'd both be electrocuted, but she always exaggerated, and I always felt safe.

I just wish I could remember more.

Still, there's one thing I'll never forget: I love you, Papa.

Charles and Emily Vogt

When Did Illiteracy Become The New Black?

2008-11-08T23:23:00.001-05:00

I’ll be the first to admit that I am, and always will be, a first class, top of the line geek. Growing up I constantly went from chubby to lanky in a horrible never ending growth pattern that always left me three inches taller than any boy I ever had a crush on. (I still slouch.) I was always falling down due to my near crippling klutziness. I’ve broken approximately nine bones doing little more than just being little, old me. Take these ingredients add freckles, glasses, a college reading level by the 4th grade, and hitting puberty just a little bit too soon for comfort and you’ve got a recipe for self esteem disaster that I’m not sure I’ll ever completely recover from. That being said, I realize that my particular brand of “cool” has never been cool. What I don’t understand is why ignorance now is.

Now, I understand our education system is slowly circling the drain: schools are overcrowded and under funded, teachers are paid badly and becoming apathetic as they realize that the joy of teaching only happens when you are actually ABLE to “teach”. What I don’t understand is why this is being embraced. Why are kids being taught to idolize people who are morally and intellectually bankrupt? Why is all this trash being regurgitated and served back to us as popular culture?

I guess this ~~rant~~ blog is partially in response to my general outcry and also in part inspired by my own personal experience, for example some instant messages that have been cluttering my inbox. These are actual IM’s I’ve received on my Myspace page from strangers:

“U LOOK MAD GOOD AN I WANTED TO HOLLA AT U”

“u r so cuti & sexi…..what u gettin at 2nite?”

Oh! My personal favorite: “was good ma ui like u and i wana chill wit u so if u wanna do somenthing 2night o wen ever hit me back up u got a number o som”

The last one is from a guy who’s profile picture is him holding a large liquor bottle in one hand and grabbing his …er…nether regions with the other. Oh yeah, Mr. Sexy. That one always get's me hot. Sigh...

I never reply to these things, just silently die a little inside and scroll forward with my life. I'm just so sick of dudes sending me a message telling me I have pretty eyes and then in varying degrees of disgusting asking me if I want to meet up and have sex with them. Does that actually work on some girls? The part I find truly scary is that I receive these so often; which tells me logically that these guys have to be getting some positive feedback in return. Why else would they continue? Which brings me to my next point:

Dear Girls, WHY????

Why do you allow yourselves to be treated like crap? Why are your myspace backgrounds littered with men who's greatest contributions to this world are "lyrics" - *giggle* lyrics, now that's funny. - like "to the sweat drip down my balls/ all you b****es crawl" and "call me so I can make it juicy for ya"? Why do you want to be with men who act like this? What happened to romance, affection, mutual understanding and respect? Not to go all feminist or anything, but why did our grandmothers fight for equality so our generation can throw it back at them? Why do you idolize women who do nothing more than bask in their own plastic, self admiration? I mean really, do you actually give a flying frick who Paris Hilton's best friend is?

I guess that's really all I have to say. It's enough to make a girl give up.

Gee Willikers, Batman!

2008-11-06T01:15:00.001-05:00

This is my puppy Vader right after I bought him a couple of months ago.

This is Vader now:

When I bought him I had no idea that his ears would one day grow to look like this.

Apparently neither did he...

Kaylynn Love Ludo!

2008-11-03T13:49:00.002-05:00

What's not to love? I mean really. Is this or is this not the sexiest thing you have ever seen?

Okay...so maybe not. Carrying on:

I finally got to see Ludo live on October 27th at the House of Blues and they did not disappoint. If you've never heard them go buy everything they've ever made immediately. You'll be a better person having done so. I was so bummed when I didn't get to see them with The Spill Canvas but life goes on. This time they were opening up for Relient K (lameos. just kidding...sort of....not really...yeah). I'm just not a big Relient K fan, but it was the only way I'd be able to see Ludo any time soon because they're not headlining a tour until sometime next year and there's no guarantee they'll come to Florida. Long story short, they totally stole the show. Everybody was like "who are these guys, and why do they rock the socks right off my feet?"

Luckily I was there to fill them in and majorly whore them out. "That song's Good Will Hunting by Myself. The clapping one is Hum Along." "You should check out their Youtube page the link is...", etc. I was a very proud, little ninja.

It was seriously the best show ever, they were such hams, and they cracked everybody up. They closed out their set epically. Their last song was the theme to Ghostbusters and they had a guy come out on stage dressed like a Ghostbuster chasing a guy around who had a sheet on his head. It was hilarious. It was so anticlimactic when Relient K had to come out and play after them. :P

We stayed and met them after the show and they were so awesome. They all signed my CD and gave really fantastic hugs. They were just really sweet, funny dudes. We brought my best friend's little sister with us, it was her first concert, and she loooved it. She was so cute, she didn't have anything to sign so she had Andrew sign the back of her cell phone. She's developed a little crush I believe. She's talking about smearing clear nail polish all over it so it stays there forever. Ah, to be twelve. :D Best of all, I think we've even saved her from the evil clutches of Lil' Wayne forever.

Check it:

Myspace

Band Site

Youtube Page

Do Raccoons Have Suicide Hotlines?

2008-11-03T01:44:00.002-05:00

I think it would be a wise investment on behalf of the American people. The mental health of our woodland friends has obviously been on the decline, and now they are trying to take innocent drivers down with them. Where will this madness end?

This Halloween was one for the record books.

At about 2:30 pm Megan finally succeeded in convincing-slash-guilting me into going out with her and some friends. We were supposed to go to Guavaween, but that didn't pan out so well so she convinced me to go with her and a few friends to take her little sister trick or treating. Being without costume I ended up being a zombie. I highly suggest it, all you need is the makeup since zombies are usually in normal attire. I wish I had taken pictures. I was quite proud of my green blood stained mess of a face.

Let the badness begin…on the way back to Inglis I was pulled over for speeding, 93 to be exact. It was stupid. I wasn't paying attention to the speedometer and it's so easy to do in my car and blah blah blah, excuses, excuses, totally and without a doubt my fault. Now I have a mandatory court appearance at some point in the near future. You think I would take the hint that it just was not going to be my day, but nooooo.

So we went trick or treating, age be damned. I tried to forget for the moment that my mom and dad were going to kill me and that I was living on borrowed time. We dropped off Casey, Megan's little sister, went to Nikki's and then went to Chaz where we went to a bonfire-thingie, which was a lot of fun. Just a lot of chill talking (for the most part) and watching boys do stupid things like throw lighters in the fire and then try to jump over it, etc. On a side note Nikki and her boyfriend are nauseatingly adorable. :)

We left the bonfire at around 3:30 am. Megan and I were supposed to spend the night at Nikki's with another girl, but we opted to just take the drive, deciding that we would rather make the drive that night instead of in the morning when we'd be all groggy and cranky.

So there I was: driving down the Suncoast Parkway towards Tampa, Meg passed out in the back seat, just me and The Spill Canvas to keep me company. In an ironic twist of fate, and quite possibly another one of God's let's all take a good laugh at Kaylynn moments, I was listening to Sunsets and Car Crashes. Oh yeah. Maybe I'll be able to lawlz at that later. I noticed three massive raccoons standing on the side of the road. I didn't think much of their little gathering, that was until one of them looked right at me and then launched it's self full speed at my tire. I, in my infinite wisdom, swerved to try and avoid the deranged little monster in vain. Instead of going under my tire he tore up my under carriage, not that I knew this yet, that would come later when I tried to drive again and realized that I was now dragging "stuff", namely the plastic thing on the bottom that protects other "stuff". At this point I was just horrified that I had hit the thing. So choking back tears, we got out of the car and tried to look for it, swinging are cell phone's around in hopes of seeing something, I don't know what our plan was, probably try and find an animal rescue near by that could come and save it if it survived the impact.. Here's the really weird part. No raccoon. We searched for it and it was gone. We looked a good ways from the car too, thinking it may have been thrown, but their was embankments on both sides and we saw nothing. So basically it attacked my car and then….left? Super raccoon. It reminds me of Scarface, where at the end he's so coked up that he just keeps going and going and going when you know he should by all rights already be dead.

So this Halloween I got a bag of candy, a court date with the potential of having my license taken away, a broken radiator, the opportunity of watching the sun come up over the freeway while I waited for a tow truck to arrive, and nightmares about coked up raccoons wandering the streets with machine guns and fake Cuban accents.

I just can't wait for Christmas.

You No Touch-y Unless I Like-y

2008-11-02T18:18:00.002-05:00

Hmmm.

Math class today. I like my teacher. He’s very awkward. He has this way of saying what he thinks we’re thinking, which at least in my case is in no way what I’m thinking, and saying it out loud. "But wait…I don’t like graphing. TOO BAD!" Only his voice gets really high pitched and nasally, like to him we all sound like Fran Drescher. He sort of grumbles during everything, too, like a low pitched growl and sometimes when he writes things on the board his tongue kind of gets stuck, hanging out of his mouth for uncomfortably long stretches of time. He keeps me entertained.

Less entertaining. We had critique in Drawing today. It wasn’t as bad as I had expected, from what everyone says about Jones I was kind of waiting for him to take my picture off the wall and rip it into little pieces and set it on fire. In reality it wasn’t that bad.

Self Realization of the Day:

You No Touch-y Unless Me Like-y

About halfway through class I was standing by the critiquing area listening to Mr. Jones when this guy came up behind me and apparently wanted to get by me so he put his hand on the small of my back and sort of pushed down so I would move forward and out of his way. It made me sort of mad and I didn‘t understand why. In part I knew it was because I don’t like being touched without some invitation for it. God knows I don’t think about it when I’m playing around with friends, when I'm cuddled up on the couch with Emmy or the boys, or when I’m at a concert and there’s twenty people basically grinding against me. So why did this bother me so much? I’m by no means a personal space Nazi, sometimes I even prefer a little personal contact when I’m talking to someone I know intimately, I think it shows full attention, affection even. Maybe that’s why it got to me. So I started to think about it and realized something. I think of touch in the form of gesture. To me placing your hand on the small of someone’s back is an intimate act, not necessarily in a sexual way (but I must say, that’s usually where my mind compartmentalizes it), just that it permit’s a certain closeness, almost possessively so. Not a way to move an unwanted person from blocking your way, an excuse me works for that. Maybe that’s why I’ve never really liked being touched by strangers or maybe I will just add overly sensitive to my ever growing list of neurotic "quirks" and need to stop thinking of touching in such an intimate fashion. Either way…blah.

I better go do some laundry seeing as I’ve now moved from my last clean shirt to Megan’s last clean shirt.

About Me

2008-11-01T04:42:00.007-04:00

I am the space cadet.

Kaylynn [KAY-LEN] (n)

1. prone to obsessions (the kind marked by a flurry of unbridled, but benign intensity before burning out, not the scary, gun wielding kind).

2. tried desperately to get to the center of a tootsie pop once, carried the same lollipop around for a week or so with a sheet of notebook paper full of tallies, but I lost the paper...and temporarily all feeling in my tounge.

3. was sent to the school psychiatrist in second grade because on Valentines Day the class was asked to make cards and Ms. Sanfords didn't find my drawing of an actual heart appropriate. He told me it was surprisingly accurate and gave me a lollipop. It was root beer flavored. Can you say score?

4. Did you know that the first kangaroos were carnivores and lived in trees, launching themselves down on their unsuspecting prey? 'Tis true and a good way to see if you're still paying attention.

5. had every intention of marrying Elvis until realizing that he was dead. I promptly moved on to LaVar Burton. Reading Rainbow, not Star Trek.

6. But then of course met my true love courtesy of vault Disney. Guy Williams:

7. Only real nasty spanking I remember my mother ever giving me, I had drawn Zs all over my bedroom walls. Whip-whip-whip.

8. I have a Lisa Frank diary that I kept when I was six that in the beginning asks what I want to be when I grow up. I wrote: "starving artist". I'm not sure the concept was fully grasped, but it gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling all the same.

: Kaylynn is classified mostly harmless.

Nice to meet cha'.