mal día (bad day)

we all have bad days. and i don't mean the "oh man! i broke a nail!" days. i mean the days where you peak out from under the warm safe covers of your slumber with one eye and go... "yeah, forget this." the days where you wake up to rain sloshing on your window, an eighth of a tank of gas, and your cellphone is turned off. the days where you realize the ratio of coffee to water is just not going to cut it. i recently had one of THOSE days. i was to be at work and the gas in my car was not going to suffice. my bank account was giggling at me with a pointed finger. and the only way to contact my boss was through a facebook message. yes, it was a bad day.

the beautiful thing about a bad day though... calories don't count. you can eat whatever you want and your favorite jeans will still fit the next day! comfort food is different for everyone. some people prefer a box of dove bars. others prefer mom's cooking or their favorite brand of super sized fast food. nonetheless, we all have a food that on any other day is just crap, but on *this* day.... this day it's our mental medicine. me? i prefer mexican. chips and cheese, chips and salsa, enchiladas, chimichangas, nachos... come on down!

roomie knows all too well that on my bad days, showing up with a bag of hot smelly mexican will perk me up faster than a pot of strong coffee. even better... driving me over to my favorite mexican restaurant in knoxville... mexico lindo! it's a small restaurant located off of cedar bluff road right next to aaron's. we walk in, choose a booth of our choice (which is usually in the back near the giant tv) and within seconds are greeted by our favorite waitress in town. she's absolutely lovely. we always get our food hot, on time, and most importantly... with a sweet smile.


so we arrived with roomie's sister in tow. we took our seats, sister on the inside because she likes the claustrophobia of it all, roomie across from me, and i got the coat check side of the booth. which in girl terms basically means, i get to hold the purses. we were greeted by our waitress who fell right out of the happy waitress tree. she took our drink order and returned with the FREE chips and homemade salsa we all crave bringing extra lemons for her resident electrolyte lovers. we ordered queso dip to share for the chips because what's a bad day without cheese? i ordered the chicken chimichangas. extra guacamole salad. no frijoles por favor. (which in english means no beans please -or- hold the flatulence thanks.) it seemed that this would heal the hurt and give me enough energy to deal with the onslaught of christmas shoppers i was no doubt going to encounter in just a couple of short hours. our food arrived complete with extra condiments in record(ish) time and i was already vacuuming in crispy tortilla and perfectly shredded and seasoned chicken topped with sour cream and lettuce before she could say "enjoy!"

mexico lindo is known for their tamales. homemade tamales. did i mention the all you can eat mondays? it's a whopping $8.99. i spend more at taco bell when i'm looking for an all i can eat experience, so to say that this is a deal would be cheating them out of advertisement. this place is not for the gastrointestinally weak. the portions are large, the prices are amazing, and you will need a to go box (unless you're me and can eat a small cow on bad days). they have all the comforts of mexican on the menu... everything from their homemade tamales to your basic taco. you name it, they have it, they make it well, and their prices are unreal for the amount of food that arrives for your munching!

we leave mexico lindo with smiles on our faces and a rice baby cooking in my belly. (i love rice, it doesn't love me back but i eat it anyway because it's SO good, especially from mexico lindo.) our bank accounts are pleased with us and all is well and wonderful again. bad day what?

moral of the story... if your bad day needs mexican like mine does, mexico lindo will heal your heart and fill your belly with a price tag your bank account will love. call in a to go order at (865) 692-9515 or drive yourself over to 462 N Cedar Bluff Rd, Knoxville, TN 37923. feliz de comer!

ah... if only...

one of my favorite poems.... i share with you.





THE HANGING OF THE CRANE



I


The lights are out, and gone are all the guests
That thronging came with merriment and jests
To celebrate the Hanging of the Crane
In the new house,--into the night are gone;
But still the fire upon the hearth burns on,
And I alone remain.

O fortunate, O happy day,
When a new household finds its place
Among the myriad homes of earth,
Like a new star just sprung to birth,
And rolled on its harmonious way
Into the boundless realms of space!

So said the guests in speech and song,
As in the chimney, burning bright,
We hung the iron crane to-night,
And merry was the feast and long.


II

And now I sit and muse on what may be,
And in my vision see, or seem to see,
Through floating vapors interfused with light,
Shapes indeterminate, that gleam and fade,
As shadows passing into deeper shade
Sink and elude the sight.

For two alone, there in the hall,
As spread the table round and small;
Upon the polished silver shine
The evening lamps, but, more divine,
The light of love shines over all;
Of love, that says not mine and thine,
But ours, for ours is thine and mine.

They want no guests, to come between
Their tender glances like a screen,
And tell them tales of land and sea,
And whatsoever may betide
The great, forgotten world outside;
They want no guests; they needs must be
Each other's own best company.


III

The picture fades; as at a village fair
A showman's views, dissolving into air,
Again appear transfigured on the screen,
So in my fancy this; and now once more,
In part transfigured, through the open door
Appears the selfsame scene.

Seated, I see the two again,
But not alone; they entertain
A little angel unaware,
With face as round as is the moon;
A royal guest with flaxen hair,
Who, throned upon his lofty chair,
Drums on the table with his spoon,
Then drops it careless on the floor,
To grasp at things unseen before.

Are these celestial manners? these
The ways that win, the arts that please?
Ah yes; consider well the guest,
And whatsoe'er he does seems best;
He ruleth by the right divine
Of helplessness, so lately born
In purple chambers of the morn,
As sovereign over thee and thine.
He speaketh not; and yet there lies
A conversation in his eyes;
The golden silence of the Greek,
The gravest wisdom of the wise,
Not spoken in language, but in looks
More legible than printed books,
As if he could but would not speak.
And now, O monarch absolute,
Thy power is put to proof; for, lo!
Resistless, fathomless, and slow,
The nurse comes rustling like the sea,
And pushes back thy chair and thee,
And so good night to King Canute.


IV

As one who walking in a forest sees
A lovely landscape through the parted frees,
Then sees it not, for boughs that intervene
Or as we see the moon sometimes revealed
Through drifting clouds, and then again concealed,
So I behold the scene.

There are two guests at table now;
The king, deposed and older grown,
No longer occupies the throne,--
The crown is on his sister's brow;
A Princess from the Fairy Isles,
The very pattern girl of girls.
All covered and embowered in curls,
Rose-tinted from the Isle of Flowers,
And sailing with soft, silken sails
From far-off Dreamland into ours.
Above their bowls with rims of blue
Four azure eyes of deeper hue
Are looking, dreamy with delight;
Limpid as planets that emerge
Above the ocean's rounded verge,
Soft-shining through the summer night.
Steadfast they gaze, yet nothing see
Beyond the horizon of their bowls;
Nor care they for the world that rolls
With all its freight of troubled souls
Into the days that are to be.


V

Again the tossing boughs shut out the scene,
Again the drifting vapors intervene,
And the moon's pallid disk is hidden quite;
And now I see the table wider grown,
As round a pebble into water thrown
Dilates a ring of light.

I see the table wider grown,
I see it garlanded with guests,
As if fair Ariadne's Crown
Out of the sky had fallen down;
Maidens within whose tender breasts
A thousand restless hopes and fears,
Forth reaching to the coming years,
Flutter awhile, then quiet lie
Like timid birds that fain would fly,
But do not dare to leave their nests;--
And youths, who in their strength elate
Challenge the van and front of fate,
Eager as champions to be
In the divine knight-errantry
Of youth, that travels sea and land
Seeking adventures, or pursues,
Through cities, and through solitudes
Frequented by the lyric Muse,
The phantom with the beckoning hand,
That still allures and still eludes.
O sweet illusions of the brain!
O sudden thrills of fire and frost!
The world is bright while ye remain,
And dark and dead when ye are lost!


VI

The meadow-brook, that seemeth to stand still,
Quickens its current as it nears the mill;
And so the stream of Time that lingereth
In level places, and so dull appears,
Runs with a swifter current as it nears
The gloomy mills of Death.

And now, like the magician's scroll,
That in the owner's keeping shrinks
With every wish he speaks or thinks,
Till the last wish consumes the whole,
The table dwindles, and again
I see the two alone remain.
The crown of stars is broken in parts;
Its jewels, brighter than the day,
Have one by one been stolen away
To shine in other homes and hearts.
One is a wanderer now afar
In Ceylon or in Zanzibar,
Or sunny regions of Cathay;
And one is in the boisterous camp
Mid clink of arms and horses' tramp,
And battle's terrible array.
I see the patient mother read,
With aching heart, of wrecks that float
Disabled on those seas remote,
Or of some great heroic deed
On battle-fie1ds where thousands bleed
To lift one hero into fame.
Anxious she bends her graceful head
Above these chronicles of pain,
And trembles with a secret dread
Lest there among the drowned or slain
She find the one beloved name.


VII

After a day of cloud and wind and rain
Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again,
And touching all the darksome woods with light,
Smiles on the fields, until they laugh and sing,
Then like a ruby from the horizon's ring
Drops down into the night.

What see I now? The night is fair,
The storm of grief, the clouds of care,
The wind, the rain, have passed away;
The lamps are lit, the fires burn bright,
The house is full of life and light:
It is the Golden Wedding day.
The guests come thronging in once more,
Quick footsteps sound along the floor,
The trooping children crowd the stair,
And in and out and everywhere
Flashes along the corridor
The sunshine of their golden hair.
On the round table in the hall
Another Ariadne's Crown
Out of the sky hath fallen down;
More than one Monarch of the Moon
Is drumming with his silver spoon;
The light of love shines over all.

O fortunate, O happy day!
The people sing, the people say.
The ancient bridegroom and the bride,
Smiling contented and serene
Upon the blithe, bewildering scene,
Behold, well pleased, on every side
Their forms and features multiplied,
As the reflection of a light
Between two burnished mirrors gleams,
Or lamps upon a bridge at night
Stretch on and on before the sight,
Till the long vista endless seems.

Content of THE HANGING OF THE CRANE [Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem collection: Birds of Passage]

if you can't take the heat...

hey! come to our house! because we don't HAVE ANY!!!!

this has been an eventful if not emotionally destroying week.

bank account neg. fuck you paycheck. rent. $1.85 left in bank account. apparently i miscalculated in a previous post. cellphone shut down like me with a previous courter. (or was he?) work = poopy. hercules has a strange ouchie on the side of his face that he refuses to leave alone. and now i am slowly turning blue.

our landlord was kind enough to bring us space heaters. however... running space heaters causes breakers to blow and we lost power last night. a lot of it. kind of all of it. teresa showered with candles. her room regained the only power in the house and so the bed was rearranged, ONE space heater was plugged in and me and my brood slept in a chair. a chair with an ottoman. but a chair, nonetheless.

we awoke this morning to our house lit up like a christmas tree after an unfriendly call to the landlord summoned him to come this morning and fix our unforgivable power outage.

oh, started a new job today. that makes three for those counting and ONE on the way! i'm giving birth to my energy but i am not getting the cooing and cute pictures back. what's up with that shit? so, i am home now, my lower back feels like i could fry an egg on it and lo and behold.... we are still heatless. i am afraid to turn on the space heaters. i'm not really into tempting the power to go off. especially since slammy and friends are gone for the evening. (see door slamming post)

the new job is interesting. the training contains most of the "figure it out yourself" handbook. my boss wants to date me even though he's about a foot and a half shorter, speaks shitty english, and ages me by about 30 years. he's nice though. (as if that makes up for the shitty english) it's a casual environment that is basically stress free except when someone comes in whining or screaming. that's always an uplifting moment to my day. the food is good and FREE when we're working. the boss has a strange addiction to ice cream so there are always frozen milky delights. i get to drive, which is sometimes my favorite thing in the world. people here in knoxville have never driven before in their lives though so it's kind of like dodging bullets. also, after doing some quick math, by my calculations my next day off is in 13 days. yeah, christmas. 2 days of presents, eating, hugging family members, and driving. then it's fuck my life in the ass again for who knows how long.

there is a silver lining. i thought i would save it for the end. i came home with a free medium pizza, cigarettes and a little extra money to save for the cellphone resurrection. (yeah i started again, bite me with your back teeth) also, i am going to start baking for my new job. if he likes my treats, i will officially be doing all of the desserts for his restaurant(s). did i mention there are 3 locations? i'm sure this means more money since i am not volunteering to be a pro-bono betty fucking crocker here. that means, my foot is in the knoxville door. this could be a huge huge huge HUGE break for me.

in other (good) news... oprah admitted she is fat and is finally going to stop whining about her giant arms and accept that age = weight. eat up girfriend! i'm almost done with twilight, so i can move on to the other books that i don't know what happens in since the movie has ruined this one for me. we're going to have a ginormous full moon on friday. (maybe the moon can heat up our house?) stocks are up. grandma sent DATE BALLS!!! (my fave christmas cookie evar!!!) and lots of gummy worms. it was like a box of kallay's top junk. (wish i could call her and thank her...) elf yourself is back for another merry season of cutting and pasting your favorite family members' faces on dancing elfen bodies. and the best thing...


i might be able to afford giftmas after all. ring the bells y'all.

Merry Giftmas!

I wanna give.


I've found great gifts for my friends and family. I've contemplated sending emails to them saying... if I had money this is what I would have gotten you for Christmas... or Giftmas rather. This year has turned into a holiday of who is going to be able to buy Christmas presents and who is not. I'm in the not category as of today.

In order to send Christmas cards you also need stamps. Stamps are what... $5 these days? For 3? Groovy! No Christmas cards for people either. I have the cards, plenty of ink, but no stamps, no money for stamps, and no money for Giftmas in general.

I just really love giving presents. Don't get me wrong, I like getting presents just as much as the next person. But there is some kind of fulfilling pleasure that I get out of shopping for my friends and family and finding the perfect gift. Once upon a time I had enough money that I could send Christmas cards, buy decorations, buy amazing gifts, wrap them like Martha and still have enough to bake cookies, travel home, and still have a savings account. I'm now reduced to wishing I could buy Kerry this awesome mug I found online or Teresa this gorgeous outfit complete with jewelry that I saw. I mean, talk about torture! I could fill a cart with things I have found for my nephew and niece. Not sure how I would get it all home, but who cares! I'd find a way! Move over Hercules!

Do you ever check your bank account with one eye open hoping that the financial fairy dropped some mad money in your account? I've been doing it everyday. And everyday my bank account laughs at me. Kind of like... "hahahahaha ROFLMAO... you thought.... hahaha... there would be.... hahahahahaha money in here!??? hahahahahaha! you fool."

my bank account is a meanie.

oh bite me, money!

if i ever wanted to start smoking again, it would be today. today, today. i'm one of those annoying people that thinks too much when they have either too much time on their hands or too many issues to deal with. i'm a thinker by nature, thanks Gawd. i'm also pretty damn good at problem solving though once i get the solution i am looking for. not great at this in the man department but ya know, this post isn't about men. it's about my kitchen.

kitchen wha!?

yeah.

the cooking place.

the food storage area.

the shoebox of white and tan previously mint green and cream.

myyyyy kitchen.

we recently painted the kitchen to resemble more of a 2000s look, rather than a late 70s, what the hell where they thinking, look. the cupboards are now shiny white rather than minty green and the walls are a nice calm tan color transformed from the scary dirty creamy white color. the counter top is still freakishly green and now has white and tan polka dots but we'll tackle that project soon. my problem is not with how the kitchen looks. because it's actually coming along quite nicely. my problem is that when i walk into the kitchen i can feel my maturity drop a few points.

when i get my kitchen stuff from home this will change but for now the under carriage looks kind of like this. big plastic bowl with no lid. tupperware thrown about, lids are also optional. two ginormous saute pans... lids? what lids? our cookie sheet (that btw, we store in our oven) serves as a lid for our pans sans lids. and then we have one nice pot with a lid we use for grey's night also known as kraft macaroni and cheese night. which brings me to our cupboards.

oh lord, if my grandmother ever saw this... our cupboards resemble that of a frat boy's room combined with old mother hubbard's cupboard. why you ask? oh... let me share the disaster. we have:

ramen noodles
kraft macaroni and cheese SPIRALS (because what epi of GA is complete without it!?)
chef boy ardee (no, i don't know how to spell his name or beefaroni because the stuff makes me gag... roomie loves it)
microwave poppable corn
cans of campbell's soup
and a small colony of canned goods featuring spiced apples and white beans that neither of us will eat

and tea. lots of fucking tea. apple tea, orange tea, aveda tea, peppermint tea, just a lot of damned tea. we're 21 and 90 all at the same time.

did i mention our envy inducing amount of crystal light?

let's move to our icebox.

and yes it's an icebox. i know this because i'm taller than it is and our freezer could double as a glove box from a car had it been installed in my mazda rather than our icebox.

so... our icebox...

drawer... who the hell knows... no one goes in there... it's probably still stocked with halloween candy and some old ass chicken slices from 50 grocery store trips ago.

bottom shelf... two pitchers of crystal light, beer, 1/4 c. of milk, and a gallery of other refreshments not suitable for late 20 somethings.

middle shelf... inedible leftovers.

top shelf... meet our village of condiments! it's expanded into the door even! we have 17 varieties of hot sauces and ketchups, sour cream, mayo(s)... the roomie likes kraft, i enjoy bringing out the best!, mustard(s)... basically the condiment aisle threw up in our icebox.

we always have coffee, we always have creamer... we'll dig through a change jar for those essentials.

but i am slowly coming to this very sad and very scary revelation that while the rest of our economy is riding along on the recession... our kitchen is quickly becoming the great depression part deux.

finding something to eat is not my favorite when i come home from work and the best i can come up with is either ramen or kraft. with the last package of individual frozen corn. mmm, mmm, good.

if this isn't poor, i don't know what is. my cellphone is off. so if you're trying to get a hold of me... i'm not ignoring you. it's just that i only have $0.68 in my bank account after rent. i have ramen in my cupboard. i have a roomie to whom i owe lots of $$. i have an assload of bills. and a big "fuck you" of a paycheck.

so yeah, i want a cigarette and then i want 19 more.

about a run....

my lungs feel like the seven dwarfs went mining.

my legs feel like a fat man sat on them.

and why is it that every time i exercise i always want taco bell when i'm done?

and a nap.

gawd.


but i did it! i ran! for 15 minutes! (shut up!)


by next month i will be running my full 25 again. by my birthday my ass will be smaller and my lungs will be in love with me. maybe they'll even send flowers. with a note! dear person, we are so happy to be breathing campfire-free air again. at first we resisted the heavy breathing regimen you embarked upon but now we really do enjoy the extra fresh air! we love you! sincerely, lungs

see? i have something to look forward to. until then, i will just enjoy the suck-fest and keep on truckin'. there's this hill at the end of my run, my goal is to be able to run up that snotty bitch by my birthday. sort of like a happy birthday hooray! although, the plan is to be in savannah drinking lots and lots of greenish beer that day. but if i do it before i leave i can still count it as a present from myself.

i was only kind of scared while running. the path is in the woods. it's gorgeous and mostly people free. i will take pictures next time i go out there. i have to say... there's this weird little sign on this bridge i ran by. it definitely made my eyes bug out a millimeter or five. then i started to get a little freaked out. looking around me thinking that every squirrel noise was a mass murderer who wanted to rape and stash me in the field somewhere. every bird noise was a crazed man about to jump in front of my path. after a while i came across a mommy dressed in pink with a baby carriage. then i saw a short little old asian lady. and a really old guy with radio headphones that could pass for ear muffs. i felt a little safer after that.

moments later, my running alarm went off and scared the ever livin' out of me. and i reverted back to figuring out how to text 911 to roomie without looking. and "locate my body with the GPS from my phone". that was a little harder. going through the motions of trying to hide my phone in my underwear so my nonexistent attacker wouldn't know i had my phone went sort of like this. (only mentally... i never tried it) my running jacket is reversible so there are zippers on both sides of the pockets. (see, this story is exactly why people like me should run on treadmills) so i was thinking if someone came upon me, i could nonchalantly unzip my left pockets, reach over to the right pocket, unzip it and retrieve the cellular phone. text my stealth message to roomie. slip the phone down my pants into the underwear. (this would only work if the attacker was not planning on rape. if he was, i'd be fucked... i guess literally and figuratively.. anyway...) then i could keep on running. hopefully roomie would understand the importance of the text. and i just keep on running until the attacker strikes.

i realize my mind is sick and twisted. i can't afford a gym membership though so to the woods i go! now do you understand why i am afraid of the dark? you wouldn't BELIEVE all the villains that live in my closet after i turn off the light. it's ridiculous how they all crowd in there like that.

anyway, i ran. i hurt. yo quiero taco bell.


the end.

are we there yet?

you guys.... 28 days. that's it. i have to hang on to my slippery rope for 28 more days. i really am a kid on a road trip this month. all i can think about is how everyday i am one step closer to planetary realignment. not that i believe in that crap, but ya know... you have to blame it on something. so i'll be the one asking aloud... "are we there yet?" for 28 more days. gosh... DAYS! it's just such a happy word! happy, happy, happy.

as it turns out, my sister is right. i have never wanted to say those words before in my life but it's true! and hooray! 2009 is peaking around the corner at me and saying, "hello! wait until you see the surprise on this side of midnight!"

so far, i have quit smoking. which is an amazing feeling. although the ass expansion project has begun so that leads us to another accomplishment to be... running again. i was running 2.5 almost 3 miles this summer before i moved to my mom's. then i moved to knoxville and exercise somehow moved down on my top 10 things to do. i'll let you know how it all turns out tomorrow. hopefully my clutzometer is in low gear. i would hate to have to get all dressed up in running gear, drive to the running park, fall on my running face, and end up having to go running home.... for a brownie and a sob fest. that would defeat the purpose of mission: ass dwindle. so we'll do our best.. me and my grace.

i have also been published. i've known about it for a while but i didn't want to jinx it. now that it is official, i can't even explain the happy feelings that are radiating off of my person. the website launches in january and i am their resident restaurant reviewer. my portion of the site is called "Dining with Kallay" i didn't pick the name. if i had done it, i'm sure it would have been something more along the lines of "mmm...butter!" or "more condiments please!" or "where did those 10 pounds come from?" but that's just me. if you want to check it out... www.divaguide.net is the website. i am on the front page for now but my articles will be in the dining section.

and so my countdown has begun. the ball is dropping in the times square of my life. i will apologize in advance for being the loud one. the happiest one. the (probably) drunkest one... on new year's eve. i'm going to celebrate the end of this year and the beginning of the next like a dog with a bone. just let me finish. my tail will wag, my eyes will light up, my tongue might even hang out. many will wonder about the excess in celebration but they won't know how much i deserve it. they won't know how badly i have been broken this year. i understand it was all for the greater good of myself. to make me stronger. to make me humble and ask for help. that's all fine and dandy but the fact of the matter is... this year was smelly brown poop on my new pink shoe and i'm ready to scrape it off and start anew.

what are you wearing?

my self control is on sabbatical until further notice. it left a note somewhere, but i can't find it. somewhere between the heartbreak and frustration, but i don't have time to look for it.

so how do i know, you ask? well on a normal (whatever that is) day, my emotions are in check. my face shows nothing other than a (sometimes fake) smile, and customers/friends would never know that life has skipped the tracks and is crashing into a fiery inferno. lately though... i believe that i am wearing my frustration. my face is no longer a concrete wall, it is now a cinematic adventure of my current mood. not sure who turned on the reel but i just don't have the energy to conceal my thoughts or feelings.

case in point... new girl. she makes me sigh. not the relaxed outpouring of breath that releases your shoulders from your ears... no, it's the "is it 3 o clock yet?" sigh. the "get out of my fucking way." sigh. the "you suck at life." sigh. apparently i am not the only one that is frustrated but i am not the one in control, so the only thing i can do is glue my mouth shut and work. this is getting increasingly difficult.

due to self control's apparent vacation, my tongue seems to be having a hay day with the snark. i can't help the bitey ridiculous comments. i'm itching for a pink slip. i can't even lie to a customer about a drink. my face is 100% transparent. a young guy came up to the counter and asked me about a specific drink and if i liked it. my long pause and eyes flickering downward gave him the automatic response of "ok, you hate it!" i didn't even say a word! my billboard face gave me away. what a trader! i mean... why would my self control leave me during the holidays? great timing nimrod!

i've also been wearing a lot of drinks lately. i think self control took what was left of my grace with it. i am tripping, bruising, dropping stuff, missing the target, wearing drinks, and stuttering. these are all things that happen on a consistent basis, but just not usually quite to the extent where i wonder if i should even be walking much less driving a vehicle. i had the nickname "Grace" when i was little because my clutzy ways battled that of a newborn deer. now, a full grown adult, my bike crashing days are over, but the clutzdom continues. i was carrying dishes out of the back room the other day and when i stack them i usually put a cup on top with the knives and forks in it. it saves a trip. so i'm leaving the backroom, i tripped on air and about poked my eye out with the handle end of a fork. upon reaching the counter i opened the door onto my shin, bent down to put the plates in the cabinet and knocked my head on the counter. so within one minute, i not only practically blinded and bruised myself but i also gave myself potential brain damage. beat that bambi.

i'm sure it's the holidays. the constant stress over money, love, and life suck. it's probably a little bit of insomnia mixed with dehydration and caffeine push. not to mention uncomfortable shoes. it'll be over in 31 days. 2009 will arrive and my life will cut right and my planets will hopefully align themselves in a better sequence. the holidays will be behind me, BIRTHDAY in front of me and my self control will be back from vacation. and if not, God help me.

so what are you wearing?

nothing says thank you like turkey....

(before i begin, for those concerned for me because of the vent... i'm much better today. i woke up at a normal hour... six thirty something or whenever it was that teresa came into the room and said "kallay" and i said "what" and she said "coffee. convo." i said "mmm hm." i proceeded to roll out of bed and explain myself. the world is a brighter place today. anyway... back to thanks...)

the only commonality between turkey and thanksgiving is that they both start with a "t". i really don't understand some of our strange traditions in this country, but ya know... it is what it is. turkey for thanksgiving. ham for christmas. (which is ironic because in the old testament pork = bad) bunnies for easter... because you know when you have an important family funeral there are always colored eggs and chocolate bunnies. let's see... naked guy with a big arrow for valentine's day... wait... that one kind of makes sense.

anyway, i'm not sure what exactly a giant dead bird overcooking all day has to do with being thankful, but we'll go with it. i personally am thankful for mashed potatoes and gravy. i'm going to miss my thanksgiving again this year. the one where i cook for my family and we all laugh at my grandma's boyfriend after he drinks too much wine. he's like 100 billion years old...so i say drink up dude. you earned it. plus, he's hysterically politically incorrect when he's drunk. i enjoy that about old people. in fact... i am thankful for it. i can't wait til i'm aged enough to be able to say whatever i want and be able to survive the backlash. i really am going to miss that this year. i'm also going to miss cooking. i love the feeling of making a big dinner and everyone sitting down together and enjoying their food. i love hearing people say "YUM!" when they eat my food. Or maybe just the muffled sound of a yum when they have their mouths stuffed full of kallay-cooked goodness.

other things i am thankful for...

coffee.



























oh, yeah and this stuff too...

my family because they're hilarious. they're giving, kind, caring, loving, thankful, fun to be around... they're just rad and i hope your family is as cool as mine is.

my friends because they get me. they get my mood swings and my irrational outlook on all things love, marriage, and breeding... they get my sarcastic sense of humor. and my dry sense of humor. they like my stupid faces and my goofy child-like disposition. they don't care if i wake them up throwing up in their bathroom and then ask for bread and country crock while lying hungover on their bathroom floor. they are my shoulders to cry on. my confidants. my people. and i love them.

my talents. even the hidden ones.

my animals. who squish me into the upper corner of MY bed every night. who sometimes (always) wake me in the night by walking over me, kicking me, sneezing, eating, drinking, and cavorting around thinking it's time to get up. yup. i sure do love them. especially maddie. she's a hoot. licking things like walls, envelopes, tape, pictures, sticky notes (this cat loves a good sticky note), shoes... ya know whatever. she just likes to lick it all. and when she's done she'll yell at you. it's really just obnoxious meowing but it's funny nonetheless. unless you're sleeping and she wants to be pet at 3 am. then it's not as funny. and if you think she'll stop you're wrong. you have to pet her. you have to. otherwise she starts hitting. and then she bites. and then she'll walk on your boob. especially right in the middle where it hurts. and if that's not enough she'll find that owie pressure point spot on your hip and stand there until you wake up and G. D. pet her. she's persistent. i love her.


i'm thankful for tight jeans. they remind you that even if it is the holidays.... it's the fucking holidays! stop eating or you'll bust a seam.


i'm thankful that this year is 11/12ths of the way over. i'm ready for a nice heaping of 2009. the prospect of a shiny new calendar... ha! who needs prozac?


finding (matching) black socks. it's magical.


pink fuzzy blankets.


nicorette!!!!!!!!!!!!(!!!!!!!) and cinnamon gum


gas: $1.69


waking up early to watch the most expensive parade ever... and see santa.


cheesy christmas movies with horrible acting


eatin' jeans


generous people who have welcomed me into their family as one of their own.


my beauty. ;) so vain. oh so vain.


but really... i am thankful. i'm heartbroken. i'm in my own little world. building my cocoon again, my hard protective shell. somewhere for me to be introspective, to be with myself and face all my demons so i can pack them away. too much has come out this year. it's time to make peace with it all. i'm thankful for the ability to do this. i am thankful for the people in my life who understand my need for solitude. as much as i hate to be without people, sometimes it is necessary. you know, before i lose my mind and go batshit bananas on everyone. :)

i had a good thanksgiving though. two families. two totally different dinners and styles of celebrations. delicious calling me from the fridge pies. leftovers to last us until next thanksgiving. 700 phone calls to family back home in the mitten. for another holiday away from the ones i love, it wasn't half bad. especially since last year it was spent with fake people, a crock pot of chicken and dumplings and a bag of salad. whoop!

and as tradition calls... i watched christmas vacation. like i do every year after dinner on thanksgiving. this year it was postponed a little due to the raking of leaves/dog excrement, the second thanksgiving in which i apparently offended people, and a short nap during the silliest christmas film fail ever. but mission: accomplished. i got to see clark fall off the roof, throw himself down a hill crashing into walmart, and freak the fuck out which happens to be my favorite part cuddled right up next to aunt bethany putting cat food in her jello mold, much to uncle eddie's delight! and i've eaten a sow's weight in pie. this thanksgiving is adjourned.

so bottoms up because the 2008 holiday season has begun. anyone else just get chills?

how to piss off a kallay....

(i don't do disclaimers. but you have been disclaimed. i'm venting. and it might get ugly.)

i'm in a bad mood.

but it's not like a bad mood where i'm throwing milk, slamming doors (ok i did slam a door last night), and yelling at people. no, i'm just kind of slowly slipping into this weird funk. i'm not really sure why. maybe it's the holidays. maybe it's the fact that i am single and don't want to be. it's not THAT so quit thinking it. that was last week. maybe it's just the epitome of 2008. i'm just supposed to sink into a depression for the next month and a half until *ding ding* it's 2009? i'm really not sure. what i do know is, i have had a headache for three days. a real one. not the whiney "oh i have a headache, i'm going to take advil" kind that we all get from time to time. my chest hurts. kind of in the same general vicinity as where my heart is. and people are pissing me off. all of them. if you have two eyes, a nose and a soul, you are aggravating me.

and here's why....

*ahem*

1. i park on the road because i don't want to walk past freaky old guy and weird young guy late at night in the dark with no lights on. i am *afraid* of the dark. parking in my area makes me have to face my fear. i don't want to face my fear at 11:30 at night after i have just cleaned up an entire pond of dirty mop bucket water that i dumped all over the damn floor. i want to park in my space. walk to my door(s), unlock alcatraz and be in pj's in 2.5 seconds flat. i don't want an adrenaline rush. i don't want my life to flash before my eyes. i just want to go HOME. so park in the grass asshole.

2. i am an intelligent, hardworking woman. you do not need to leave me lists. you do not need to explain how to clean refrigerators. you do not need to answer my yes/no question with a paragraph-long explanation. you do not need to schedule me for closing shifts when i am the happiest morning person you have. you do not need to give me all the shifts you don't want to work. you do not need to tell me you have a life outside of work. you do not need to tell me you are a full time student when you are taking one class. in fact, you don't need to tell me anything. i just want you to go away. far and away.

3. i am not a child. do not speak to me like one. i don't have curfews, i moved away from my family so i could do what i wanted without having to explain my every direction. i can eat with utensils. i can drive a car, very well in fact. i have a bank account. i am old enough to know better. i am not your special project. i am not stupid. i might be goofy and play the dumb one at times, but i assure you that my mind is in full working order.

4. i am surrounded by people who think they are better than me. some of them even *know* it.

5. i am every man's rag doll. throw me around. toss me to the ground. love me when they need it. forget me when they don't. but i'm always there. sitting in the cupboard waiting to be loved. i cherish every minute when i am and wait patiently when i am not. all alone. with my yellow yarn hair, my big blue button eyes and my sewn on smile. always happy on the outside, but filled with dirty fuzz on the inside. sitting in the dark. or lying there haphazardly thrown into the cupboard when something better came along. ya know... he was in a hurry. i don't worry though, he'll come back. besides, i like lying here with my right leg behind my head and my left arm curled under my left leg.

6. fuck you bank account.

7. i used to feel like i had style. now i just hope my clothes smell clean and aren't too wrinkled. it's a good day when the fashion fairy allows my jeans to come up over my ass and zip or when i find a shirt that fits over my boobs and doesn't hug my tum tum. i'm not even going to get into the depression that is currently plaguing my shoe collection. i can tell you it pisses me off.

8. i'm sorry hercules and maddie. i wish you had more.

9. a cappuccino has foam and i hope you drown in it.

10. my hair is in dire need. of color. of style. of conditioner. but that costs money and we covered that in #6. my eyebrows i can do myself.

11. ever look in the mirror and get pissed off? just looking at yourself in the eyes disgusts you? maybe not, but i'm there. i'm disappointed in myself. i don't even want to look.

12. give me your license. all of you. i have been pulled out in front of more times this week than i can count on a calculator. there is a lot of life flashing this week what with walking alone in the dark and you dumb ass people aiming your cars. blinkers are not accessories. brakes are not your gas pedal. the world is not your speedway. and for christ's sake, you only need one parking spot. that's a 4 not a 2. move it. do your makeup at home. READ YOUR BOOK in a parking lot, not on the freeway. some people can talk and drive, some people can text and drive... you can not.

13. i think that i have entered the phase of "quit is a four letter word" when it comes to smoking. i want a cigarette. not because i like the taste. i know it's bad for me. but i am depressed and a cigarette would make me feel better.

14. maybe it is the holidays. people gushing about their families. cooking for their families. something i love to do, but can't and won't this year. christmas is looking grim too.

15. i'm tired. of trying. of being so honest. of getting hurt. of feeling lonely. of being afraid. of being put down easily. i'm just tired of it all. tired of feeling like a bug. small and annoying.

this year has been one thing after another. i'm floating around on a string trying to hold on. i keep telling myself it's only another month and a half and things will get better. they have to. right?

please say right.

please say that this torment will stop.

but what i really mean is...

have you ever talked to someone or written someone and you want to say something, but you can't. it would be awkward or it would cause tension. i hate this feeling. i have something to say. i want to tell this person so badly. but i just can't. it would be weird. for one, my friends would think i'm an idiot. (and i AM idiotic on most calendar days) two, the person would probably think i'm some sort of insane asylum escapee. and three, i can't believe that this thought/feeling is even in there. really, i can't.

it's just been bubbling up in there. floating around in my head. maybe if i just write it out and then delete it, it will help? nope. didn't work. still there.

this is strange. i shouldn't be feeling this way. no, seriously. i really shouldn't. i should be moving on and forgetting this and shoving it in the back of my head closet. way back. like bury it. under that one thing that i forgot about and now remember again.

fuck.

dear brain,

please erase this ridiculous thought/feeling from your cells. we are not going there. at least not today or anytime this week. or probably anytime this month. we need to simmer in it. or hide it.

much love...

self

damn.

damndamndamn.

where's my shoe? (and other nic fits)

Day one is always the hardest. I quit the night before, smoking my last tube of death at 11:52 pm. Yesterday morning I woke up to the pitter patter of dachshund paws scurrying across the floor. Oh, it was 5:25 am by the way. My alarm was set for 5:30 am. So I got up, knowing that 5 extra minutes of sleep were not going to help me achieve this day. And that's when I started bouncing. Off the walls, off the chair, off the coffee pot... I had so much energy, I probably could (should) have stopped at one cup of coffee. I took a shower and prepared for work realizing, I STILL had no idea where my other black shoe was. And so begins my first nic fit. I am looking through laundry, clean clothes, in the closet about 5 times, bouncing like tigger on adrenaline through the house searching for my shoe. Lifting up couches, looking in dead closets (the ones where nothing lives but you look anyway in case the lost item wandered in there without realizing), I was absolutely on a rampage. I looked in the closet one more time, this time with the light on and found it cuddled up nicely with my purple fuzzy slipper. Aw. FOUND IT!

Happy to have located my work shoe, I began to wander around the house, which literally translates to me pacing rapidly from room to room unable to decide what to do with myself. I sat down at the table while Teresa checked her email and wiggled like a 3 year old that has to pee. She looked over the computer screen with contempt in her eyes and went back to reading. I decided cereal would be a good option here. For one thing, I haven't eaten real breakfast in a long time. Brunch doesn't count. And it would probably keep my hands and mouth busy for a few minutes anyway. So I poured myself a bowl of Smart Start and sat contentedly at the table eating my cereal like a good girl. Quitting smoking raises my energy levels to that of a 5 year old. So yesterday I was in a cereal eating contest and finished my bowl in record time.

Now what? I finished getting ready for work, popped in a piece of nicotine gum and teresa and i were off to the races. me, vibrating all the way to work. the one day i need there to be good music on the radio or *something* to entertain me, they play slow ballads and songs no one has ever heard nor does anyone want to. i arrive at work 15 minutes early. fabulous. but not actually fabulous. because now i have to sit here.

so i'm sitting there... shaking. looking frantically around the car for something to do. i see quite a lot of crap. i decide to make a list.

what to do at lunch:

1. stop shaking. oh wait...

1. clean out car. that's better..

2. read book, if i can stop wiggling long enough to read the words.

3. eat slow. i might as well cross this one off because i can't do anything slow at the moment.

4. talk on the phone.

5. chew gum like a cow.

i finish my list and walk into work feeling great that i am a quitter. i should wear a name tag... hello my name is: quitter, i am so proud. i open the cafe in record time. 9 am, doors open and i don't have a single customer until 10 am. this is another instance where God thinks he's funny so he tests my limits of tenacity by making me bored to see if i can stand the energy literally pulsating through my veins. making me feel like i might explode kallay parts all over the cafe if i don't find something, ANYTHING to do. so i cleaned. i cleaned syrup racks, i wiped off counters, i wrapped sandwiches, i windexed glass, i organized papers, i did dishes, i filled anything that needed to be filled. i'm afraid i might have frightened the first customer i had. "HELLO!!!!!! Welcome to the 2nd Really Big Bookstore!!! WANT SOME COFFEE!!!??? COOKIE??? DO YOU LIKE CAFFEINE? I love caffeine. I also love reading, walking on the beach, your purse, and my dog. Do you have any animals?" *crazy wide smile with eyeballs bulging out* is what happened next i'm sure. i took some really deep breaths. all day. i just could not stand or sit still. i am a human vibrator when quitting smoking.

i did clean my car out at lunch though. i talked to kerry too. i couldn't read, the words were moving around too fast. i chewed my gum. nothing is working though. i just have to wait for this to be over.

it's funny how you get so used to smoking when you're doing certain things. morning for me was always coffee and cigarettes. checking email... smoking. driving... smoketastic! big meals... always have a cigarette afterward. take the dogs out? time to smoke! it's hard to re-program your brain. i'll be sitting in the car and i'll reach for my purse and i'll forget what i was looking for and realize... i was looking for my cigarettes. i'll be checking my email and wondering what's missing or drinking coffee and wonder why i can taste it. smoking is more than just a bad habit for your body but it's a bad habit for your life! it infiltrates itself like a virus in a computer and you are suddenly having to relearn how to function with out it. and it's so damn hard! i don't want to smoke because i am really enjoying the fresh air. but i just don't know what to do with myself.

teresa has to watch me bouncy ball myself around the apartment. i'm driving her batty bonkers. i talk about a million miles an hour. and poor hercules has never been pet so fast in all his life. i'm just BURSTING at the seams!! it's absolutely ridiculous to watch.

i did finally lay down last night and go to sleep... after my foot stopped moving to the beat of a woodpecker.

now i'm awake and having to make another game plan. it's day two. i have a meeting today. i hope i don't scare them walking in there all Doc Brown muttering to myself about time travel. i'm unsure of how i am going to handle nervous energy on top of the already ridiculous amount of whatever this is when i go in there.

perhaps heels might be a bad idea today?

i'm such a quitter...

"you're well on your way to lung cancer if you don't quit."

he said that. not to my friend, not to someone i know, no... he said that to ME.

we (the smokers) have heard it all before. "you're going to die from that." "it's bad for you." "you're too pretty to smoke." "cigarettes cause lung cancer." the list continues.

i wonder if the people that have died from lung cancer were warned. did they just not care? did they think it wouldn't happen to them? i know that i have taken my lungs for granted. i am not going to live forever but why would i do something that would make my life shorter? especially when death is my greatest fear which boils down to some other fears like being terrified of the dark. it just seems so stupid. not even ignorant because ignorance is the knowledge we have not attained. i have the knowledge and do it anyway... that's stupidity. and i am not a stupid girl.

so in a way, being sick has enlightened me. or at least it has pushed me on the swing to recovery. after this....



i am done. i will not live in fear because of something i am doing to myself. every time i light up a cigarette i get excited because i know i am almost done. i know it sounds silly to build it up like that but it's better to be excited about quitting i think. it made it easier last time i quit. last time i chose. this time my brain is forcing it. i'm sure the cravings will start. the first two days are the worst. then after that i get hungry and the battle of the bulging ass resumes. but that's why people exercise and the money i spent on a week of cigarettes can now go to something more productive like a gym membership. what a concept.

some back story....

i had walking pneumonia last november when i was training for my management position at Really Big Bookstore. i was miserable. couldn't breathe, couldn't talk, had no energy. after that i had the flu. then pneumonia AND the flu AND a sinus infection. a few months later my appendix peaced out on me. and now i have severe bronchitis/borderline pneumonia again. i've only smoked consistently for about 2 years. two. that's it. but i am slowly killing myself. and that's sad. the doctor said "welcome to TN!" when i told him my allergies were getting worse. he asked me if i had ever had asthma... no, i haven't. then he asked if i smoke. yes, i sure do. like a champ! (says kerry!) that's when he looked me in the eye and told me that i am well on my way to lung cancer if i don't quit. most people don't even get pneumonia once in their lifetime. i have had it three times in one year. ONE year. apparently, that's not good. (kidding)

i've had doctors tell me to quit before of course. my answer is always, well i'm going to quit! and they are happy with that answer and move on. this doctor scared me. he kept pressing the issue. this doctor cared enough about my health to tell me the hard truth. my body has been knocking on my brain all year. "hello! i can't breathe. are you done yet?" now i can honestly say that yes, i am done. i don't like waking up in the morning, taking that first fresh breath of morning air and then having it catch in my throat leading to a coughing fit. feeling like you're choking is scary. and i'm sick of being sick. i've been sick all year and it's my own fault. so i'm done.

thank you dr. h. for scaring the crap out of me. for telling me that the reason i have been so sick is because of my smoking. for telling me that i am going to die choking if i don't stop. with one sentence, he changed my thinking. how is it possible for people i know to smoke all the time and never get sick? i don't know. but for whatever reason i do and i don't want to anymore. i'm scared. enough to quit and do something else to calm down. to be a quitter and stay that way.

i don't want to die choking. i don't want to miss the important things because i was stupid and couldn't put down the damn pink lighter. and i won't.

because damn it, i quit!

the war of door (s)

so i realize i am being repetitive here, but i had to share. something ridiculous is happening and i'd like it to stop, please and thank you!

so last night, all excited that i could semi-breathe and talk like a woman, i decided to forgo my new nightly ritual of sleeping vertical on the couch and lay down for the first time in 5 days. this was a bad idea in and of itself but it was only worsened when 2 am rolled around. i had just fallen asleep after a fit of coughing and hacking and sleeping slanted on the bed because of hercules when i heard..

ding dong ding dong ding dong ding donG DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DiNg dOnG DiNg dONG DINGDONG WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON DOWN THERE!!!!????

the dinging and donging continue. i know who it is. and i know why they're doing it. but damn it so help me if i have to get out of this bed i'm going to hurt someone with my eye daggers. bella is losing her mind. teresa is losing her mind. i start coughing again and i am now awake and i don't wanna BE!!!!

so hercules runs down the stairs doing his doggie laugh, i am shortly behind, not doing my doggie laugh. in fact, i'm not even doing my human laugh. i open the door for the three amigos and in they saunter... giggling like 5th grade girls. hello, it's WEDNESDAY! and you're 30-something. why are you drunk holding SONIC bags, giggling and ringing the doorbell incessantly? why? it's so mean. i want to punch you. all of you! in the nuts even!

one of the amigos disappears and moments later the door to their apartment opens and they all scream with pure delight. i mean, they screamed kind of like teresa and i scream after we defeat the locking yourself out process, but we're girls! and that's normal! they're boys... is that normal? of this i am unsure, but as they filed into their apartment one by one like bottles on an assembly line they all received the eye daggers. shortly before this teresa screamed down the stairs something so loud it was inaudible and then the door was slammed and i wondered if i had also just been locked out of my home. they weren't scared. they thought it was funny. getting locked out and causing sleep interruption for the girls upstairs. yes! grand plan morons!

one of us is sick. one of us can't fall asleep. and both of us have an alarm for 5:30 waiting to pounce. so hide a key already. i tuck the boys into their beers and SONIC food and walk up the stairs praying for an open door and for a little peace and quiet for the rest of the night (morning). it is clear that laying down would make me even more miserable so back to the couch i went. pile on the pillows, flip on the humidifier, take some anti-awake cough medicine and fall asleep around 3 am, not so blissfully. the alarm goes off and instead of just pushing the shut up button a million times, i apparently decided to skip that step and just turn it all the way off. so this morning my alarm took on the voice of my roommate saying "kallay did you know it's 6:45?!"

clearly not, as i was unsure at that point what my name was or why i was on the couch. 5 seconds later it all came rushing back and i was traveling to the kitchen for a date with the coffee maker. i was late but it made my coffee anyway. :) nice coffee machine no? i drove to work half in a daze from the meds that were still working since i had not taken them until 2:30 am and i was up at some 6:45 hour that no one should have invented. opened the cafe with ease and all of a sudden i am sweating bullets. i just broke a fever. i'm coughing up my left lung, blowing my right nostril, and can feel another fever coming on when my GM comes over and asks me if i'm ok. when i answer her in my newly refurbished robotic male voice she tells me i need to go home and go to the doctor. she thinks i have bronchitis. apparently it's been going around the store. lovely. just what i always wanted. why can't millionairism ever go around? i'd like to catch that!

so here i sit, waiting to go meet with dr. i'm going to pump you full of expensive drugs at 3:45 pm. pissed that i'm even here because perhaps if slammy, dingy and dongy hadn't messed with my REM cycles last night i wouldn't be here fighting off a fever. cheez-its.

oh and there we go again. another slam. i think it's high time operation revenge kicks in. teresa, are you reading this? it's time. time i tell you!!!

why are you in such a hurry?

you know, i hate this question. i hate this question more than "what do you weigh?". i hate this question more than "why don't you want to be a chef?". i hate this question more than i hate the word panties and i hate all of those things. they disgust me. but this question.... this question takes the proverbial damn cake.

here's why...

if you're single, you will relate. if you're not single, you were once asked this question and will be able to think back to the time when you were asked this question and will remember that YOU HATED IT TOO!!!!

i am single. not desperate, not ugly, not jaded (okay maybe a little), and i'm kind of a catch. (or so say my friends) so just because i date a lot of guys does not necessarily mean that i am in a hurry. it just means that i don't want to waste my time on someone i can barely stand an hour with much less an entire lifetime. this isn't to say that i haven't dated some really nice guys, because i have. i've dated some guys that would be real catches, just not for me. some of my guy friends were previous datees and have become some of my really great friends. so i don't always date assholes, i just tend to marry and commit to the assholes.

on the flip side of this though, why NOT be in a hurry? if your very best friend is waiting for you at the airport, do you not drive a little faster? if you're starving and dinner is finally done, your plate of food goes from full to empty at an astonishing rate. and if your favorite show is coming on but you're trying to finish cleaning... that windex is a flyin' sweetie. so why should i be moving at the pace of a turtle to find THAT person???

that person who "gets" me. that person who makes me laugh and treats me like a human being. that person who knows that i hate beans and always ask for extra condiments. that person who knows i like my coffee strong and my knees weak. why is it so wrong for me to want to stop wasting my time with guys who don't care about anything beyond sleeping with me or wanting ME to like them? isn't that supposed to be a good thing? i mean i'm kind of damned if i do and damned if i don't.

i read an article that says you should treat looking for a partner like a part time job spending at least 15 hours per week searching online and otherwise for *the* guy. even *I* think that's excessive. i do agree with the part of the article that basically says, if you lock yourself out of the world, don't expect mr. right to accidentally fall in your lap or come magically knocking on your door. the real world just doesn't work that way. i don't think that spending 15 hours a week on searching for love is exactly mentally healthy but i get what they're saying. i think i fall somewhere in the middle of all of that and that's plenty ok with me because unless someone is going to pay me for the 15 hours of working to find mr. right... eff that shiz.

i just had to say it though. stop asking me this question... for the love of all things chocolate. i'm not in a hurry. ok? i am just sick and tired of sharing my life with myself. we're good! me and myself know everything there is to know about me and myself. we would just like to share it with someone else now. we're tired of talking in third person and sharing our stories with a cat. we're tired of cuddling with a really really hairy dog. (even if he is totally cute.) and we are definitely tired of the casual sex. yup. i said it. i sure did. no reason to lie. i'm almost 27 years old and i am TIRED of casual sex. because casual is not far in the dictionary from complicated and you know what? it's kind of boring. there's no talking. there's no real connection. there's no 3-5 date build up. it's just "hi! you're hot! wanna...?" yep. boring.

let's play this game your way and say that i am in a hurry though and you really need to know the answer or your hair will fall out and your teeth will turn green... God forbid. i would be in a hurry because i have heard couples say that they wish they would have met their significant other sooner. i have watched too many romantic comedies and the seed is planted that the older you get, the less available childless men there are out there. (not that i mind dating guys with children... if they behave... i've had some... instances... a barnacle and a beast are ringing a bell... another blog... sorry i digress) i would be in a hurry because i love that warm fuzzy feeling of arguing with someone and coming to a compromise. and because i've met enough guys to know that i haven't met him yet.

HIM... the guy i know absolutely nothing about. i don't know what he looks like. i don't know what he smells like, what his hobbies are, or how he likes his eggs. i don't know where he lives, if he's close to his family, or what his favorite color is. but i know that i want to meet him. i'm not crazy for wanting to meet the man of my dreams. i know this because somewhere out there... the man of my dreams is pining for a girl like me. except maybe not for a girl LIKE me, but just me. like my sister says, it might be someone i've already met. she's also the reason that the guys i tend to date are absolutely nothing alike. when people asked her (when she was single) what she looked for in a guy she said she didn't know because she hadn't met him yet. and i've totally stolen that line of logical thinking. i'm getting a little pickier though, or at least getting better at weeding out what i don't want in a life partner.

all that said, i do have a great roommate who lets me vent and spew craziness. i have best friends who help me laugh and giggle until my sides hurt. i have a supportive family who listens and sometimes gives great advice. i can't complain. and i'm not. i'm just tired of this stupid question. because it is stupid. if i was late for work and you asked me this question it would be just as annoying.

just thought i'd clear that up. thanks for playing!

the family way

every family is unique. we all have our own traditions. our own inside jokes. our own battles. our own dynamic.

i grew up in a small summer resort town off the coast of lake michigan. it's beautiful with it's historic downtown and clean neighborhoods. a perfect place to raise a family. or at least that's what i thought when i was little. i always felt like i was different growing up in a town like this. our family wasn't the mom, dad, sister, brother, dog kind of family and obviously still isn't. never will be, in fact. that used to bother me, but not so much anymore. i have been blessed with the family that God chose for me.

i grew up in a predominately female environment with my mom, my grandma, and my sister who is my elder by 8 years, meaning... i have 3 moms. my grandma, the leader; my mom, the encourager; and my sister, the hammer. interesting that my discipline came from a sibling. i am extremely close to them and value their opinions, which are usually all extremely different making my indecisiveness even more fun when seeking advice.

my grandma leads by example living a simple and fulfilling lifestyle. marrying once and sticking to it, even through the hard times. she handles tragedy with grace and strength that i haven't seen in any other human being. she's compassionate, hard-working and absolutely hilarious. she's neither vain nor high maintenance, rude nor impatient. appropriately nicknamed saint midge. a good person the have at the helm of a family. she has her very own blog that i wrote in the beginning of this year. she's just wonderful...

my mother is a free spirit and while she is my mother, she is also my friend. we have our arguments. but without fail, she is the one i call at 3 in the morning when i can't breathe because i've been crying so hard or because i am sick and need advice on how to feel better. she's the one who encourages me. the one who "gets" me. she knows i am happier when i am surrounded by big city unknown. her favorite expression is that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. which has been shortened to just "apple....tree". she's always been the yes mom which growing up was great but later on in life i've had to learn on my own that you can't always get what you want. she's a good mom though. she's always encouraging me to press on with my goals and my dreams. when i need her, really really need her, she's right there.

and then there's my sister. being 8 years apart we have had some hard times relating to one another. we grew up in different decades for one! we are also very very different people. she prefers the safe small town living while i prefer adventure and big city living. she's short with straight naturally light blonde hair and i am amazon with crazy curly almost brown hair. we both have blue eyes. i tease her a lot, calling her june cleaver. it's not an insult. it's the highest form of a compliment. my sister is a great mother. i know this because she's practically one of mine. growing up she was not my playmate or my little bit older sister i could go to for advice, but she was always the one to set me straight. and i *hated* it. we had our fights that were over absolutely nothing, like me breathing wrong or her looking at me mean from across the room but hello, we are sisters. we antagonize. but sometimes she was right, and if you have a sister you know what i mean when i say that i hated to be wrong. nothing could flip my switch more than that.

now we're both adults. i'm 20-something, she's 30-something and our differences remain. but somehow we are able to talk to each other like intelligent human beings. we laugh together on the phone, mostly because she's the funniest person i know. i make fun of her, she makes fun of me, and we have a good time. if i ever had someone to look up to though for a good role model for a wife and mother (other than my grandmother) it would be her. my niece and nephew are two of the most beautiful children on the planet. i'm sure my brother in law had something to do with that too. but they are well behaved. my nephew is hysterical just like his mommy. he is polite and sweet and just plain great. it's because his mom takes the time to show him what is right and what is wrong. she lives in such a way that he doesn't have to hear it to do it. he just follows her lead. when they grow up she will give good advice, she will be at every school function, and she will be happy and excited about being there. not because it's her job as a mom but because she really truly loves her children. she has dinner on the table every night even though she hates to cook. she does it because she wants that for her family. she appreciates the lifestyle that she has and doesn't take it for granted. she has a wonderful doting husband who fawns over her not because she begs for it but because how can you not love someone who tries so hard to make everything perfect for the ones she loves? she is also my number one protector. always has been, always will be. she can rip me apart but if anyone else says a peep she is the first to defend me. she is my sister, no matter how different we are.

sometimes the only way you can get to know people are through the words of others. i am not always forgiving with my words. i get frustrated and angry. i get down trodden and annoyed. and sometimes the people that i love the most in this world are the ones to get hurt by this. it is NOT intentional. my writing is not meant to sting or burn. it is meant to get out a thought or thoughts. as a writer there is a constant script. always something brewing in the back of my mind. always something to say. writing things down always makes me feel better. even if down the road my feelings change, what was written is written. it's how i felt.

my family, no matter how far away i live or how many fights we have, will always be my family. they are my soft place to fall when life goes awry. so know this, there may be times when i am frustrated and i vent, but they are MY family and i love them dearly, because no matter what, they are mine. mine to vent and cheer and write about and i wouldn't have them any other way.

My Big Fat Breakfast

Big Fatty's Catering Kitchen
5005 Kingston Pike
Knoxville, TN 37919
(865) 219-8317



Sunday was one of those days. I woke up practically skipping to the coffee pot. Arriving at my final destination of warm dark roasted heaven, lathered in french vanilla creamer, I set out to face my day. I drove to work and handled my end of the inventory battle. I left at 9:30 am with one purpose and one purpose only... to eat. Still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I march up the stairs to drag the roomie out of bed and force her to enjoy my very good day.

I recently moved to Knoxville in an attempt to keep my feet fully planted in southern soil. I love it here. The people, the weather (usually), and especially... the food! Being new to the area would seem, to most, a disadvantage. To me it's an adventure. A culinary adventure if nothing else. I came upon Big Fatty's one Sunday morning when my roomie and I were looking for a good breakfast place. My usual breakfast of strong coffee and cigarettes wasn't going to cut it. I wanted eggs benedict. What I found was better. So much better.

We drove into the parking lot like the Dukes of Hazard, starving and needing coffee. Upon entering there were a few people seated around a round table talking and laughing and carrying on. The owners and managers! We were told to pick a seat any seat. Glance around the restaurant and you'll find all kinds of interesting things to feast your eyes on. Brightly colored walls adorned with colorful art and a wall of windows. Our waiter greeted us with a smile and soon after we were blessed with our coffee.


This place is everything eclectic. Right down to the mismatched coffee cups. Along with coffee we were served their strawberry muffins. Sweet, tender little sponge cake like muffins with real macerated strawberries on top.

Two minutes later they were gone and my mouth was watering for more. The breakfast menu is basic at first glance. Eggs with bacon, eggs with this, eggs with that. Where are my eggs benedict? I begin to pout. I'm kind of a baby when it comes to cravings. I want it when I want it. And they didn't have it. Then a little something caught my eye... Big Fat Biscuit... Biscuits topped with pork, covered in gravy and two eggs on top as the crowning glory. How do you say "yes, please" in the south? Sounds like southern eggs benedict to me!!

I ordered mine with two over-easy eggs, grits and a side of the cutest little pancakes you've ever seen. Pancakes are extra but worth it! Roomie ordered the same and then we waited. Conversation is easy to come by in a place like this. The waiter was not afraid to talk to us, the other managers and owners were super friendly. It was almost like walking into their home kitchen and having them make us breakfast. The people in the restaurant ranged from young to old and from every walk of life. This is a good sign. This means my breakfast is going to rock. At this point, I am beyond excited.

And then there it was, resting peacefully on a Shoney's Blue Plate Special plate, naive to the fact that I was about to devour every last morsel. I break open the yolks and let them mingle with the gravy and pork. Sink my fork into the middle and notice... I don't need a knife. There's meat on this biscuit that is fork tender. My calorie count for the day is in trouble, I can see that. I continue on through the biscuit expecting that it would be goo-tastic with all the gravy, but it wasn't. Those little soldiers held up through the whole meal! Bite after bite of smokey marinated pork, tender but wholesome biscuit, perfectly seasoned gravy and over easy egg. My pancakes stared at me feeling left out, forgotten even. What could I do? The grits were perfectly creamy without being runny or overdone. I couldn't get over the texture of the biscuits and I had just found my new eggs benedict! Move over pancakes!

Breakfast was over, and I felt like a Big Fatty. I had eaten a week's worth of breakfast in one meal, drank my body weight in coffee, and was now expected to walk out of the restaurant vertical and without explosion. We made a pit stop at the register, paid the bill and made sure to tip our waiter his well earned tip. We promised to return. And return we did. And return we will again.

Big Fatty's is a breakfast place on Sundays if you're looking for great brunch items. But they also have an amazing array of other meals for lunch and dinner. My favorite sandwich included... the french dip. Originally started as a catering company, they recently opened the restaurant, and I couldn't be happier. Some of their other foods include creative salads, like The Happy Fatty which includes chicken, bleu cheese, pecans and mangoes on a bed of wild greens, a very large selection of sandwiches and burgers with a little something for everyone with a range of everything from seafood to vegan/vegetarian options, and of course their Blue Plate Specials. Monday through Sunday, there's something for everyone, meatloaf, chicken & dumplings, you can't go wrong with comfort food. You can even order to go! Which is a viable option for me since every time I eat here I need to be carried out. Y'all they even have dessert! HOMEMADE Banana Pudding, red velvet cake, and a white chocolate and caramel brownie.

If you're looking for yum, drive yourself with haste to 5005 Kingston Pike, and bring a friend. Or call them at (865) 219-8317 and order the Blue Plate Special to go with some homemade banana pudding. You'll be happily marching into Big Fatty's at least once a week once you do, and probably with sweat pants on.

hallo - fucking - ween and mental revelations

well, this weekend was interesting!

it was bipolar if nothing else.

halloween was on friday, as everyone who doesn't stuff their face under a rock knows. i worked. nothing too exciting about that, mostly because it's the same ol', same ol'. clean this, make this, drink this, taste this, clean this again, rinse this, steam this, clock this. out. but i got out early! the plan was that teresa was getting in and sprite for my gin & tonic addiction, i was getting gatorade, coffee, and beer for our morning after party. (which is never really more than... vertical sucks and i hate my life. why did you let me drink that much? can you believe him!? coffee, gatorade, advil, beer.... in that order.) so i make my way back to *almost* downtown knox where we live, go to kroger's get a fucked up cart as always and proceed to shop for my MAP items. get to the register and realize we need ice, add a bag of ice and i'm out the door.

i knew what i was driving home to. teresa had called me about an hour earlier letting me know that *someone* had closed the wooden door. the wooden door to which we do NOT have a key. personally, i think it's ridiculous to have to unlock 3 doors to arrive safely home but whatever... alcatraz it is. so she called john the maintenance dude, russ, the landlord dude, and john tried calling trevor, the downstairs dude. no one could help so we called a locksmith. $65 later and we were finally home. well, $65 and one more door to unlock and we were home. we run up the stairs, drink some G&Ts and start the costume process. teresa takes a shower, kelsey shows up and we help him into his monk costume, and we are finally ready for makeup. i look up the youtube video so i can properly apply the ten loads of black eyeliner to my lids and begin. an hour later we are made up, dressed up, and buzzed up. where are dawn and adrian? they arrive shortly before allen our cab driver. the following is what ensued...









taxi allen serenaded me. we took pictures and arrived safely at hanna's. we drank, we danced, we took silly pictures. we had an all around great time. some nurse stepped on my foot and didn't apologize. i have a bruise to prove it. bitch. i stole someone's wings and then left them somewhere but i have photographic evidence that at one point in the evening i had wings! after this is when things got ugly. and not just woe is she... but just plain oooogly.









the fun was officially over. teresa was tired, dawna and adrian were no longer sober and i had spent $40 on booze. allen was on the other side of town and we had no way to get home. it was fuh-reezing. my alcohol consumption was starting to catch up with my brain cells, the world was a-spinnin', and i was pissed off. kelsey had opted out of our hanna's fun and had decided to head to valrium with his friend david. there is some back story on this but you'll really be ok not knowing about it. david was driving kelsey home and had been asked by kelsey to pretty pretty please come pick us up. well, david had to go get another friend first. ONE friend. david has more then one extra seat in his car. whatever, dude. at this point we are starting assume there is a girl involved and say fuck it. we'll find a cab. yeah... not really. not on halloween. and not in downtown knoxville. we had reserved a cab for 2:30 am but he didn't show. so we call allen again. meanwhile, teresa and i decide to head to the pizza place to stand inside since my dress barely covers my ass and is for sure not a winter coat. allen shows up! love him like air!

we get home and i am still seething from the whole david situation. it doesn't help that i am 100% drunk, my world is now one giant rollercoaster, and drunk and angry make me cry. so i go all crazy white girl on the apartment, slamming doors, getting water and slamming the fridge, go to my room and lay on my spinning bed. drink the whole bottle of water and am sleeping within minutes. the morning after party began at 9:30am when i woke up with my head split in two and my eyelids unable to open due to the tears vs. eyelash glue from the night before. i SLOWLY rise from the bed that has now stopped spinning thankfully and make my way down the hall to the bathroom. peel my eyelashes off, open my eyes, peel the contacts out of my eyeballs, and pee. sweet jesus i need advil. somehow locate the bottle on the dining room table, take 2, drink another entire bottle of water and fall back to sleep. 1:30pm rolls around and i text message teresa. "uuuugh." was all it said. and before her phone could even receive it, she was sitting on my bed with a quad shot caramel macchiato (extra caramel) from staryucks. best roomie... ever. i carefully pour the life giver into my mouth and swallow with pure delight.

5 minutes later we are on the couch rehashing the evening, looking at pictures and i am still pissed about david. we arrive at the conclusion that since we did not get a call back until 4 am that there was most definitely a girl involved and we wanted no further details thankyouverymuch.

saturday is do nothing but hang over day. we read, we ate taco bell (because taco bell is the only acceptable hang over food), we clean the house, and then we veg. nothing seemed like the only viable option for things to do on saturday night. i had to get up early sunday for work and we both felt like we'd run a marathon and won, so nothing is what we did. and it felt goood.

sunday morning i wake up all bright eyed and bushy tailed. head to work for inventory. leave at 9:30 am return home and get ready for the exciting adventure of restaurant review! i recently contacted a website to try and get published. i told them that i was interested in writing restaurant reviews and entertainment venue reviews from the view point of the new girl in town. i am after all, the knoxville rookie. i am in one of those "shut up you're too damn happy moods". i literally should have skipped to big fatty's for breakfast. it might have calmed me down. so we have an amazing brunch. complete with strawberry muffins and big fat biscuits which is basically the equivalent of a southern style eggs benedict. biscuits, smoked pork, gravy and over easy eggs on top. it's heaven on a shoney's blue plate special plate. coffee consumed, breakfast in my belly and we head home to our family farm. we run some errands, pick up some stuff at teresa's sister's house and jcpenney's and head home again. teresa is feeling more productive. she probably could have conquered the world. i did some laundry. watched a girlie movie. ate some chips and salsa and too much leftover halloween candy. and then for some reason my brain decided to let me know that i sucked and i had sort of a meltdown.

teresa and i talked about my revelation. basically it boils down to this... i am a glutton for punishment. i have a nasty habit of forgiving. forgiving people who might not deserve it, giving people second chances when they didn't even deserve a first one. i have a hard time letting go. i regret things mentally that on the outside i would never show. i am happy on the outside and scrambled on the inside. kind of like a breakfast burrito. so when the opportunity to talk things out and smooth things over comes along, i am the first one in line. unfortunately this condition is related to my relationships. i get burned a lot. or as i usually put it, i get mind fucked a lot. i get morse code messages. yes i like you, let's be friends, but just kidding i actually liked you. mind reader is not on my mental resume and unfortunately the guys that i date tend to feel like i should study up on clairvoyance. if they're not speaking in clear terms, like in english, i'm not going to get it. i don't take hints very well. i'm gullible as a child and this is what gets me into trouble. i also try too hard. i play hard to get but really, my heart is easily won. i'm a heart on my sleeve kind of girl. i will tell anyone anything anywhere. it's just how i am. i don't hide much. maybe my thighs but that's about it.

i think because so many people around me are happy in their relationships, i am wondering if i will ever have that. and instead of just letting it come to me (which requires that whole part of being patient thing that i totally suck at... waiting) i just go out and try to find it myself. if a guy i date is giving me the friend vibe... i move on. sorry charlie. i don't have time to waste. why spend time with someone who clearly isn't interested? (or at least to ME is clearly not interested.) i'm that annoying happily ever after seeker. the dreamer. the wishful-thinking, fairytale loving, softy. i've watched too many romantic comedies. i know this. i know this like i know how to make a killer latte.

it's a lot like christmas when you're 5. you see this beautiful barbie dream house. it's all decked out in pink and barbie swagger. you want it. no, you *need* it. it will help you make friends at school! it will be THE fixture of your room. and it's only $400! your mom HAS to understand that this dream house is not just a gift, it's a life changing object! in reality though $400 is a lot of money for pink plastic and cardboard. glittery stickers are included and it lights up but the batteries are extra. you're dreaming, princess, if you think that monster of a present is going to be under that tree on christmas morning. which is kind of like the relationships i tend to pursue. i want the grandiose romantic gestures. the kisses in the rain. the love notes on the pillow. and the carriage ride through central park. but in reality if a guy opens a door for you and doesn't tell you that you suck... you're probably doing alright. especially if he calls on a regular basis, lets you know where he's going to be and doesn't give you mixed signals. these are all good things.

the barbie dream house was not under the tree on christmas morning. but i did get a small pink cardboard doll house to play with and i loved it. it was good enough. even at that age, i learned to appreciate what i had. in relationships, i don't get the dream house, but i also don't get the good enough guy either. i get the mixed signals, the brush offs, the cheaters, the criminals, the assholes... you name it, i've dated it. so as i look around me and see all of these functioning relationships... i wonder if this is even attainable for me. i wonder if, when i meet the guy who will treat me like i am worth holding on to, i will be happy like that christmas morning. i wonder if good enough will suffice. or will i tell myself i can do better? that's kind of sick, but it's true. and sometimes the truth hurts. knowing this of myself can only help though. it can only help me realize when i'm asking too much. on the flip side of this, it will also help me stay away from the toxic men who have seriously but a damper on my love life. it will help me spot the rotten eggs before they spoil me. it will help me not to forgive so quickly and really be done when i say i'm done. leave without regret and realize when the end is really the end.

all that said, good luck to mr. good enough... wherever you are. i am (not so patiently) waiting for you.