Feelin' On Your Booty.

Let me begin by saying that Killah K's Day to Day has become more of like Killah K's Month to Month. This is because I've been working and in grad school and basically am like, this is not fun.  Though, this is not to say that I haven't had a couple of wtf moments along the way.  For instance, the day I was waiting for the commuter rail to go to class and let a woman borrow my phone and then the train takes off and I have to wave the conductor dude down.  He catches my eye and the train, though still moving, sort of slows down, and I am able to do a run/jump on. Very badass. Or something.

But that is neither here nor there. That saying does not actually make sense right now, but I felt like throwing it in.  

In addition to working/school, I also agreed to cat sit 6 cats.  I like cats, a lot.  But, can you imagine how much number deux 6 cats produces?! It's nuts, I tell ya! Nuts. The cat sitting was a two week ordeal. Only 2 of the 6 cats are allowed to go outside.  Of course, one of the cats that goes outside is named Stella which causes me to literally yell "Stella! Stella!" as I search for her around the yard. Ridiculous.

So, cat sitting takes awhile because there's the poop, the food, the petting, and the occasional game of string.  The other weekend it sort of made me late to my friend's wedding.  I went over to check on the cats and it took a long time, as usual. Though, in this case, it was because the cat lady's daughter was there so I talked to her about life plans. That's a whole different story.

My friend is texting me, asking when I'm going to show up for the wedding and I write back something about the cats.  Then I hit the highway.

It is supposed to take around two and a half hours to get to the wedding venue.  I-90 folks. Not good. I'm talking 0-20 miles an hour for two hours or so.  Finally! A break in the traffic, and I'm not gonna lie, I try to make up for lost time. I'm speeding, just a little. I get pulled over. I get pulled over listening to Frank Sinatra.  I've never been pulled over before. I was kind of proud that I actually got across all of the lanes and made a full stop. The police guy was nice enough.  He asked me how fast I was going.  As usual, I can't lie...."Ah, 78?" He said I was going 84. Oops. But honestly, who doesn't go 84 these days?! It's crazy out there on the road! The man actually reduced my fee to $100 which was quite nice of him.  Here's the problem though: I can't find the ticket! I can't find the ticket! Who loses their speeding ticket?! This is what I get for trying to organize! 

The wedding starts at 5pm and it is already 4:42 and I am not even at the exit yet. And I still have to change since I'm wearing my Sherlock Holmes shark shirt-a shark that is dressed as Sherlock Holmes??!! It doesn't get any better than that! Part of me considers not even going because to be honest, I'm feeling quite a hot mess. Still, I rally. I'm already there and this is a good friend and other lovely people will be there.  

I arrive at the wedding at 5:30. AKA when the bride and groom are walking up the stairs to the lobby area of the mansion/hotel/venue that I just walked into.  I sink into a chair and cover my face trying to be invisible.  Of course, this not work and I end up hugging my friend, Sarah, the lovely bride, and saying congratulations and mumbling something.  

The reception comes and there is food and dancing, both of which I very much enjoy.  I'm talking to one of Sarah's friends and she is going on about how she hates it when people where white to a wedding. And then she looks down at me.  "Oh, not you though!" This is when I realized that I wore white to a wedding. In my defense, there were polka dots on my dress, tiny maybe, but they were there. Tell me people, who the hell shows up late to their friend's wedding AND wears a white dress?! Oh, that would be me. No big deal. The speeding ticket has to count for something though, right? Like, my dedication to the cause???

My friend Cruz and I immediately hit up the DJ, requesting "Feelin' on Your Booty" by R. Kelly and "Rich Girl" by Hall and Oates AKA MUST HAVE JAMS! The DJ promises that he will play both.  Hours go by.  Hours. No songs. Cruz goes up and requests a song with a Latin beat so her and a dude can break out their mad Salsa dancing skills. The DJ plays the song immediately.  The DJ also plays Usher's "DJ's Got Us Falling In Love" and is SO into it. It's as if he believes the song-that he really is making people fall in love.  I think he takes pride in this Usher hit.  In fact, I know it.  It should also be noted that there was a six year-old girl at the wedding who was a dancing machine.  At first, I was sort of impressed, but also kind of like, who does this girl think she is? She is taking up the whole dance floor! I want to dance battle her! It is difficult to dance battle in some dresses may I add. But, eventually, I gave in and decided to be a mature adult and dance with her instead of against her.  I gotta admit, she did have some mad skills. Her signature move, the piano leg, consisted of her flipping one leg up across the other one and playing the piano on it.  It was very impressive and it caught on fast. Finally, after a few more visits to the DJ, he gave in and played my requested songs.  He said something about how he always intended to play the songs, but there was no place to "fit them in".  No place to fit in R. Kelly? No place to fit in Hall and Oates? C'est impossible! I tell ya, "Feelin' on Your Booty" was SOMETHING OUT THERE! Cruz, Ca$h and I gettin' down.  Everyone else seemed kind of confused.  I have no idea why....

Diaper Opera, Dentist, Tasmanian Devil, 1812 Overture.

You know something is wrong when someone asks you: "So, do you have any fun plans for the week?" and you reply: "Well, I'm going to the dentist! Oh, but that's next week."

Yes, that did happen.

Tuesday, July 9th=WTF is My Life Part 158545.

The day began in its usual way: a little meditation, peanut butter toast, Early Gray tea, then it was off to work. I am working with severely Autistic preK kids for my summer gig.  It's pretty good times minus the changing of diapers.  I'm seriously changing like 12 diapers a day, and that's a low ball estimate. Yes, there are some very foul toots, and yes, my back hurts from picking up kid after kid.  I try to make up for what could be pure miserableness by making diaper time into an opera. I get my vibrato on and sing "how are you doooooingggg? I'm changing your diaaappppper!!! You're laughing at me because I have to change youuuuuu! This is grooosssssss but heeeeeey everybody doooooessss it" at like the top of my lungs. My co-workers later told me that they thought someone had put on the radio before realizing that I was just having an opera in the bathroom.

Somewhere after like the millionth diaper of the day, it dawns on me that I'm really friggin' tired and also quite out of it. What day is it? Where am I? What's happening? Why?!

After work it is time for me to make the trek to my graduate class. Naturally, I'm quite dazed and drive past where I am supposed to go and have to pull into a McDonald's to turn around.  A co-worker notices me in my car and stops to let me out. I wave all out of it as I marginally escape getting hit by another car. My co-worker later told me she is glad she didn't get me into an accident by letting me go. I managed to get a Honey Dew iced coffee on the way to the commuter rail station and for that I was thankful. Maybe this day was turning around.  It was when a woman approached me and asked, "Are you looking for a dentist?" that I started to feel good about life again. Why yes, I was looking for a dentist. Granted, during my guided mediation in the morning when Gabby Bernstein encourages me to state my desires aloud for the universe to hear, finding a dentist is not number one on the list. But, I really do need to go to a dentist, and unlike other doctors where I feel totally invaded and may pass out, I'm generally okay and getting my teeth cleaned. So, yes, I am actually quite excited to be approached by this woman asking me if I need a dentist. She is a dentist outreach coordinator and sets my appointment up right and there. She also gave me a flyer for an upcoming pizza party...because pizza involves chewing which is good exercise for the teeth and because cheese is an excellent source of calcium?? It all got me to thinking though, like is the universe delivering me a dentist because I was thinking about how I needed one three months ago? Wouldn't it be nice if someone approached me with a flyer and said, "Would you like a handsome and funny boyfriend who isn't afraid of commitment? Yes, we do accept your insurance!" or "Hi, you look like someone who would really love an orange kitten! Well, here is a flyer for some cats that I have. Yes, they have been fixed and have all of their shots and will look great with your new lamps!" or "Hi! I was thinking that you may need a high paying teaching job that you'll love and maybe a writing gig on the side? I can also offer you your own television show. Here's my card!" I mean, that would be sweet. Universe yo, get on this!


Anyway, so I'm feeling pretty good with my caffeinated self knowing that I will have clean teeth within two weeks. Score!  I get off at Back Bay and then proceed to get lost on the way to class even though I have previously lived in Boston for five years.  I end up walking around in a legit circle for thirty minutes, end up back at Back Bay, and give up, taking the subway the two stops to Ruggles.

I arrived in class legit tasmanian devil style. I already have to pee which is quite annoying because can I already leave the room to go to the bathroom? Probably not. Though, I am an adult (I remind myself), so I can sort of technically do anything I want? But of course, I don't and I wait a couple of hours. I am actually sort of proud that I am able to hold it in, and also, that I am somewhat coherent when speaking. I make it through class, but not before my professor informs me that the other course I am taking is an advanced graduate course. This is only my first semester in my program; I should NOT be in any advanced classes! Jeeze louise! Of course, that is kind of low on my worry-pole considering that I did not have time to eat and am currently dying of hunger! I'm not a skip meals type of chick. I wanted a burrito so bad, but had to settle for a friggin' KIND bar. Nothing kind about that when all you want is some chicken and guac rolled up in a tortilla, for the love of Pete!

So, on the train ride home, this girl from class and I are chatting about life, and that's when she asks me, "So, do you have any fun plans for the week?" and I reply: "Well, I'm going to the dentist! Oh, but that's next week." I'm pretty sure the girl is thinking, why the hell am I sitting with this tasmanian devil?! But whatever.

Also, so sidebar...I recently had a job interview for a kindergarten position which I am not quite qualified for because there are all these tests one has to take to become certified and even though I am now like ESL, elementary, and special ed certified, I am somehow not early childhood. I am also newish to the game so there are definitely people with more experience than me. So, I had this dream that the principal who interviewed me told me he really wanted to hire me but he had to go with someone born in 1812 because she was so experienced. I mean, really subconscious?! I also wonder if the year 1812 came up because it was recently the 4th of July and the "1812 Overture" is all popular and whatnot.

GMA RAGIN'!!!

A few weeks ago, I gave my Gma a choice: ice cream or a drink. Not even a second did she take to make up her mind: DRINK. We headed to a restaurant/bar in Bristol, RI. I would have figured she would want to sit outside and take in the scenic water view. No. She wanted to sit RIGHT at the bar. Naturally, she knew the bartender as well as many other guys in the joint, despite not being a regular customer. She just seems to know someone (or everyone) everywhere we go. A month back, she held up a funeral line chatting everyone up. Anyway, Gma was absolutely fascinated by the business of the joint and even dealt well with a fella named Phil who was quite intoxicated, though she did express that she hoped he would not come back. The soda gun really threw her for a loop. "What's that?! I've never seen one of those before!!" Yeah, just like you think chicken on top of a salad is a new creation. Okaaaaay. All in all though, Gma with a stinger=good time.

In Yo' Face like a Can of Mayo....errr...MACE!!!

What up summertime crew?! I have been slacking lately. This has been a direct result of me starting grad school, taking tests like a mofo, and applying mayo to my face on the regs. These kinda haps fosho take up much time! On a side bar, I literally had to Google "haps on the craps" to see just how many letter P's are involved. Just one, despite "happenings" having two. Crazy stuff. Anyway, mayo in the face, you ask?? Why yes. It softens the skin like crazy!!! Crazy I tell you!! After a week of applying, you'll wonder if your face has been replaced with a baby's behind! The only problem thus far is that the applying of such mayo is making me crave chips and a sandwich. I'm not quite ready for lunch, but I WANT LUNCH!! And I'm not even a huge mayo consumer, but the smell is creating quite a rumble-y in my tummy.

I probably should stop procrastinating and do some actual work, but fear not! I've been jotting down things I've been meaning to blog about on random receipts and in between notes, which proves that my brain is not totally empty these days (though at times it does feel like it).

Let me leave you when an Ol' Dirty Bastard classic: Brooklyn Zoo. My brother and I used to listen to this in our Toyota Camry on the way to school back in the day. Please note the lyric: in your face like a can of mace. Such rhymin'!

Gma's 85th.

My Gma turned 85 on May 18th. Her first choice for celebrating was at the nearest casino but since my three-year old niece and some of my cousins would not be able to get in, we settled for her second choice, a restaurant called the Country Inn, which is a complete haven for snowcap heads. Please enjoy the following pictures. As you can tell, my family and I have some trouble behaving in public places.

Yup, that's Santa Claus. He was sitting at the table across from us which was basically the best thing EVER. I am obsessed with Christmas. I think I was more nervous to meet him than I was to meet Mark Wahlberg. Also, my Aunt Kathy and I may have thrown some napkins at a point. Since there is no pictures of that, let's say it didn't happen....

Rod Stuart, Phil Collins=Nostalgia at Age 8.

June 6th marked my 29th year of blessing this here Earth. Holla! As usual, I had around five minutes this past week dedicated to having my parents assure me that 29 is still a young and vibrant age. This is something, I feel, that is sort of common for people to start worrying about once they hit, oh, 26 or so.  Creeping up on thirty-how in the world?! They wonder! Here are two truths though: 1. Thirty is NOT old. Nor is 100, as long as you find the joys of being alive, stay active, and healthy. 2. I've felt simultaneously old and also young since the age of 7 or 8. Dead serious. This has something to do with

Birthday dinner #1. Birthdays=food=stomach ache=worth it.

Best cake ever courtesy of my amazing mom. 

Phil Collins, Rod Stewart,and Don Henley, as well as a few other popular songsters. I have vivid memories of driving around in my parents' station wagon at age seven wondering if I was old as Phil or Rod or Don blared through the radio, making me feel super nostalgic.  I would think about who exactly  is this Maggie May?, what exactly is in the air tonight? hold on!, and how I remembered when I heard the "Boys of Summer" the previous summer, at age six.

And TMI but when I finally got my period I cried all day, making my mom assure me that she still loved me even though I was officially old. I was in like sixth grade.

I guess there is a fear that life will just pass by, another year of thinking about Maggie, but this really is not the case. Every day in every year is worth living. Every day is a brand new start. So with that in mind, I try to really value my life. I am pretty lucky after-all! And I think most of us are pretty lucky if we start focusing on what really matters and living life to the fullest.

Now this has somehow gotten way too preachy and for that I apologize. But go forth people! Truly enjoy your days! Get low! Stay young! Feel vibrant! Life is for living!

Disgruntled from a long day of hunting mice, Rags turns to his vices...

Sheep Butt.

I try to let go of things that I can't control. I make an effort not to have any regrets. You gotta learn from your mistakes. Everything happens for a reason. But, I can't get past the fact that I did not stop my car to take a picture of a glorious sheep butt this past week.

 So, there is a very excellent flock that live on my street. They're often grazing, bah-ing, being cool, rockin' their woolly selves, doing the great stuff you would expect. But, the other day, I legit saw a sheep standing on his hind legs, his front legs grabbing onto a bush infront of him, his head full in it. So much sheep butt going on. I really dig how this fellow defied his usual stance and just went for what he waned, no qualms about showing off his fine rump for the rest of the flock. And here I am, an idiot in the car, too caught up in watching that I didn't even think to pull over to take a picture to capture the moment. I guess this is a prime example of life just happening before your eyes and truly being caught up in the moment.

Thankfully, I did at least capture some cats straight chillen. I take a lot of "I Spy" photos. There are four cats in this picture. Squint and you shall see.

Speaking of animals, man gets swallowed by a hippo and lives to talk about it?! Are you dead serious?! Best line ever: "Time passes very slowly when you're in a hippo's mouth."

Passing Notes.

More tales from the dramas of school!!

Lunch this week was spent listening to a teacher read notes that she had confiscated from her fourth grade students. Classic to say the least.

The first note was from one girl to another and it described their to-do list for an upcoming sleepover party. The list went something like this:

1. Spa Treatment
2. Prank call the boys
3. Go to Orange Leaf
4. Work on dance moves
5. Work on tan
6. Think of what to say to the boys
7. Watch a movie

One of the girls also confessed to having a huge crush on one of the boys in the class. She plans to tell him on Carnival Day. She's so nervous! He's so cute! She is going to work on her tan as a means to prepare for the big revelation.

Another note was from one boy to another. This note had absolutely nothing to do with girls. It was really sweet an innocent. It went something like this:

Dear John,

How are you? You're my best friend. I know you have a lot of other friends but I think you're my best friend. We should hang out soon. I played a great game of tetherball yesterday. Do you like tetherball?
                                       
-Zack


Zack, 

Tetherball is awesome! Let's play! We should hang out soon. We would have to tell our moms though because they would need to know what we are doing. Do you know what extreme couponing is? My aunt is an extreme couponer. She has coupons everywhere! Anyway, let's hang out.

-John

These notes are an excellent example of how girls' minds work and how boys' minds work. While girls are worrying themselves about professing their feelings, the guys are obliviously thinking about tetherball. Ladies of all ages, while you're sitting at home wondering if you should text blah blah blah and wondering why blah blah blah isn't texting you, remember it ISN'T you! He is just thinking about tetherball or something of equal importance.

Anyway, so Carnival was great because I learned that I am really excellent at obstacle courses. There were four blow-up bouncy obstacle course stations set up. And I ran around barefoot with the kids, telling them that they were in fact, "going down" and then proceeded to dive head first into inflatable barrels and climb a wall and slide down with much vigor! The bruises on my leg were definitely worth the glory of it all.

Lunch with Hilda.

Monday afternoon found me at my Gma's assisted living room having lunch with her and her people. She told me to show up at her place at 11:30 am. Lunch would start at 12 noon, but we would need to head down by ten of because of the fact that we would be walking at the pace of one mile an hour. Gma warned me that we would be sitting with a woman named Hilda, who is a bit off her rocker, and another lady (who is sweet but her name escapes me), who is completely deaf. My Gma thinks that seeing someone with a tattoo is wild, so I didn't put much stock in what she said about Hilda. That is, until I met Hilda. Lady is off her rocker, but I found her to be amazingly entertaining with a great spirit!

Hilda is this cute little lady with eyes that twinkle with life, as well as with a bit of something-is-missing-here. She was so accommodating and friendly with me. As soon as I sat down, she started off about how she loves men and is getting married in June, right here at the assisted living home. Would I want to be her maid of honor? The man she is marrying lives at another residential home, they love to dance together, and he is an excellent guitar player. "He's in a band! Do you have a boyfriend? There are other guys in the band. I bet they would marry you!" Hilda, oh Hilda, how did you know that I have a weakness for musicians?! Granted, I generally try to go a wee bit (see: a lot bit) lower than age 80. Hilda became obsessed with finding me a boyfriend. She literally asked EVERY SINGLE RESIDENT LIVING THERE for me. To the fellas, she would yell across the room, YELL!!!!, "Hey! She needs a boyfriend! Will you date her? Do you know anyone?" And she asked all of the women if they had any boys they could share. One resident said that he may be too old for me, but that he can set me up with guys ages 4-18. I informed him that that is definitely too young and then he broke into song. He was great. He's going back to Europe this summer where, where, as he informed me, it is very difficult not to stare at all of the beautiful women's legs. When it appeared that none of the residents could help me find love, Hilda then asked all of the workers, many of who were like teenagers. 

 Hilda also kept yelling across the room telling different guys how she can't wait to dance with them again. "I'm a huge flirt. I love to shake it." Hilda told me that she lost both her husband and son and then decided to just have fun and be happy, that nothing else matters. So now,she dances with everyone and flirts like mad. Though, she is quite the flirt herself, she did admit to me that she had to press her emergency button when she caught one male resident sneaking into the bedroom of the lady who lives next door to her. Hilda said that she asked him what he was doing and he answered that he wanted to sleep next to his girlfriend. Hilda had to press her emergency button because it was simply against the rules. The man she was referring to had three workers helping him into his seat, as he could barely walk by himself. It probably took the poor chap a good hour to get to his girlfriend's room.

Naturally, after such an exciting lunch, it made sense that my Gma and I would cap it off at one of her favorite places, CVS. She has so many coupons she was very excited to use! On the way out, Hilda saw me and stood up and danced with me a little, exclaiming again, just how much she loves to shake it, shake it!

Wedding, bam!

Okay, Sunday Funday Wedding Time finally here! What! I woke up feeling like complete hell, voice totally gone, IBS actin' a fool. Jess and I got brunch at this cute little French joint in the West Village where I pounded orange juice after orange juice served in a wine glass. I now only drink orange juice this way. For food, I had a most amazing oatmeal skillet concoction. I'm still thinking about it two weeks later. Oatmeal with herb potatoes and cheddar cheese and turkey bacon and beans! It sounds crazy! But oh the taste!! SO GOOD.

Post food, I got ready for the wedding at Jess'. God bless the girl. She doesn't have a full length mirror in the joint. It's decidedly hard to get ready without a full length mirror, while feeling like shit, in someone else's place. I put on nude tights because even though I'm usually all about fun tights, I was attempting to be classy. Nude tights plus knee length red overcoat definitely made me feel kind of stripper-ish. And the tights weren't the comfy sort. They were doing the slide down all night making me feel like a stuffed sausage. I kept trying to slyly pull them up as I was simultaneously getting low. Whoa. A whole paragraph dedicated to nude tights. Are you surprised?!

I had to head back and drop off my stuff at Bird's before heading to the wedding. On the train, I naturally made a new friend; a girl from Australia who is on holiday and is moving to London soon. She was going to participate in a ballroom dance contest that night. She was lovely and we had a lovely conversation and an older woman who was listening was very excited by all of the loveliness and we all wished each other well.

Somehow, I arrived at the venue, Freebrook Academy, 45 minutes early, so I made my way to a bodega where I bought cough drops and pet a cat. Always a great time! So, the wedding!!! Okay, I should probably state at some point that the bride is a dear, dear friend, Michelle, and the groom, an awfully lovely chap, Rustun. Michelle and I met working at Mercury Lounge and became fast friends. Just a few months into our friendship, we dressed up as Axl (her) and Slash (I) for Halloween, completely solidifying the bond. Since then, we have done a lot of other exciting things, like playing Ms. Pacman, petting cats, listening to Sinatra, and eating chocolate chip cookies. Michelle and Rustun are a really classy couple and their wedding totally represented this. Freebrook Academy is a totally charming mansion in Bed-Stuy built in the 1900s. It now serves as the space for a progressive school and also is where Boardwalk Empire shoots. AKA it's pretty amazing. I walked into the grandness and am immediately swept into a different era; vintage beauty swirling all around me, and jazz music filling the air. It was a great scene. To the left, there is a room where you can serve yourself wine and beer,and where a few people mingle. I make some new friends and wonder why I wasn't friends with these people before. As more people arrive and the time slips on, we are all ushered upstairs to a balcony where we would look down on the wedding. How badass is that?! Looking down on a wedding? None of that stuffy sitting pew business. Of course, I was completely terrified I would knock my wine over the ledge the entire time, but still, it was great. The wedding itself was really touching. It seemed that Michelle and Rustun were not sure where their vows were, but they said some very sweet stuff about each other. The speeches later went on the same theme. Literally no one could find (or wrote) a speech, but they were all funny and wonderful in their own rights. Michelle compared Rustun to a cat which I really liked because I really like cats. They like cats pretty much as much as me, which was evident in the fact that they had cats (along with a bride and groom) on their cake, and gave out pins with their cats' faces on them. I wore my pin so proudly let me tell you.

Amazing pins featuring amazing cats/amazing couple

Confessional: I had the very important job of clearing the plates throughout the night. I had every intention to do this and to do this well, but I must admit, there was not one plate that I cleared. Everyone around me was clearing plates. At one point, someone came to take my plate and I said that he is doing my job. He didn't seem to care, and he took the plate from my hands. I feel kind of bad about this. I'm sorry I did not clear a plate....

I was very happy to mingle and dance the night away,to catch up with old friends, and make new ones. I commented on how a couple of the ladies I'm friends with from work looked so different; they all had grown out and dyed their hair. In response, one of them told me, "You look exactly the same." Um, thanks?? I wasn't quite sure how to take that. The catching up with the peeps proved to be quite difficult after around an hour in because it was at this time that I could no longer speak. At all. I tried to  convey my thoughts through my body aka by dancing nonstop. I do feel like my dancing would have been better if it wasn't for that nude tight situation I had previously mentioned. Also, this happened: A dead sober, classic jam the finger in the door. A blood blister promptly formed which was (is) totally disgusting, but by which I was admittedly kind of fascinated by. So, yeah, I basically was a hot mess: blood blister, sausage nude tights, can't talk. At one point, Michelle came up to chat with me and I literally could not get a word out. I think she just thought I was speechless and I'm going to let her believe that. But despite this, it was wonderful and I'm so, so happy for them!!! Oh, did I mention that Pies and Thights (AKA to-die-for fried chicken, biscuits, and mac'n'cheese) catered the wedding?! HOLLA!!!

The Wedding Chronicles-the day before!

Still leading up to the wedding!

And we're on Saturday!

To recap, Friday had me chillin' with a professional fighter on the train, ordering an $18 drink, playing Apples to Apples, and hanging out with a couple of brosefs who go by the names of Tom and Jerry.

So, Saturday comes around and Ca$h and I are up early to head off for some morning stretches at pilates. It's an intimate class, with only Cassie, me, and some other chick there. The teacher is a funny lady, dressed up in her idea of a "cop" suit because she has an audition later that day. I'm all about fitness and stretching it out, but the real reason I was down to try the class is because I had heard a lot of stories of the teacher using different tactics to bring awareness to the body. For instance, using the term "neon thong". Sounds terrible, but it certainly does paint a picture of what area is being referred to. No neon thongs wore mentioned, but the ladycop teacher really enjoyed the phrase "lady station". I have taken years of dance and am currently hooked on Mind Body Barre classes, but yeah, one thing that pilates has always gotten me at (and not in a good way) is all the thinking about body parts. I find that I spend so much timing worrying about keeping my spine this way and that and over-thinking each move that I am free-birding. So, yeah, more lady station/neon thong talk please. Anyway, the whole experience was pretty good. I felt pretty limber afterwards which is always a plus.

Post-pilates, we had some mango bean salad (kudos to Ca$h), got our nails did, and went to an outstanding kitchen store. At the store, I was able to purchase some great stuff. Please refer to picture!!

Donut mix, cat cookie cutter, bless you tissues

After all that fun, Cassie and I headed for some Mexican grub and then counted down the minutes until we would be exposed to "Spring Breakers". Okay, by now a lot of you (maybe?) have seen or at least heard of the movie. Let me tell you, it is SOMETHING. Here is the trailer  and no, I don't recommend all audience members to watch this. It's very "R" if you will. Cassie and I only had a vague idea of what to expect. We found ourselves either laughing, about ready to leave our seats, and very "are you dead serious" the whole time. The best/worst part is that everyone around us seemed to be taking the whole thing in quite seriously. No one else seemed a little bit put off by the fact that it's the same like three script parts continuously looped over and over again. "Spring break. sprrriiiiing breaaaaak. Sprriiiiing breeeeak foreeever..." and "It's really nice here, Grandma. Everyone is so warm and welcoming..." and "You scared?! You scared? Yoouuuu scarreeeeed? Scaredy pants!!!" So much of that over and over. Yet, I do agree, some parts were kind of badass. Britney Spears montage was something. And yeah, I enjoyed all of the neon and stuff, but yeah. Whoa, I should get off this topic. Way to be vague....

So, after watching that, we both felt a bit off, understandably so. At this point, my voice was starting to go (bronchitis whaaat!), which added to my wtf-ness.  We eventually parted ways, Ca$h to an engagement party for tall people, and I off to spread cheer in the Lower East Side.  After making a cameo in the place where I used to work, I headed to the West Village to visit my dear friend, Jess. Craig's List brought us together back in 2007. Roommates, what! And we're still great friends, go figure! So, I got lost a lot en route to her apartment, because I always get lost in the Village, but it was lovely to see her and her nice boyfriend, once I eventually did arrive. I, quite hoarsely, caught them up on my life, and they, with much stronger voices, filled me in on theirs. The boy eventually left, and Jess and I hit up the town, aka went to a bar around the corner for a glass of wine. There we did more chatting, made some friends, and took some toilet paper. It wasn't stealing because stealing is bad, and also because we told the staff that we were in need and they were fine with it. It was a stellar time indeed, and the toilet paper came in handy, because it is a necessity and all (well, to most, or some).

Saturday was off the heezy, but as you may have gathered long. I mean, I really wouldn't blame anyone for stopping after the first paragraph. I do have rambling tendencies! Next up: a sweet-ass brunch and the WEDDING!!!!

And a lot of other great shiz because I'm totally revamping in crazy, mind-blowing ways! Brace yourself! And have a fabulous day!!!

Bronchitis, ain't nobody got time for that!!!

So, part of the reason I've been totally slacking is because I've been feeling totally lackluster! The wedding, which was amazing and that I started to blog about in my last post, was also great because it made the sickness kind of come to a head. Staying out late and playing Apples to Apples will definitely take a cold to the next level! I finally went to the doc's last week, and they put me on Prednisone which is a steroid and will kill the badness. The problem with me at the doctors (where do I start) is that despite the fact that I may appear semi-ill (black rings under eyes and coughing), I'm still chatting away asking about Easter plans and the weather.  Example: Doctor walks in. I ask her how she's doing. She replies she's okay, but how am I feeling. "Well, you know, don't feel so great, but it's sunny out!" It's amazing I got any medicine really. But, back to the Prednisone. I officially understand why athletes do crazy stuff when on the 'roids. I'm not doing anything nuts, but I definitely had a couple of days on edge. I tried to make a mix cd and my computer could no longer detect my burner. I was BESIDE myself. And you should have seen me making spelt flour cat biscuits. They ended up coming out great, but oh my, what a process! So angry!!!

Anyway, and then I was thinking, people call me Killah K, that's for sure, but I'm about more than just the day to day! I have recipes! And advice! And lots of good stuff to throw around! So, I'm going to work on really making this site completely awesome! Please be patient with me! I have more ideas than I can keep up with! Okay, so I suppose this is a sort of pregame post. It doesn't really tell the rest of what happened leading up to and including the wedding. That's coming though! This is more, making mixed cds while on 'roids is terribly annoying and there is a lot of great stuff to come! So, thanks for reading and please be patient as the greatness manifests!!!

Pies and Thighs Wedding!!!--The Friday Before.

My dear friend,Michelle, got married on Sunday, March 25th, in Brooklyn. Here is a blog leading up to the big day. It begins with Friday, travel day. More days to come!

Friday, Travel Day. 

I like to spice things up so I did a half drive, half train situation. I stopped for a Happy Meal along the way. This was a terrible idea for my stomach, but I can't remember the last time I had one, and I really enjoyed the pint sized box it came in. Anyhoo, off topic, shocker. So, I'm waiting for the train in New Haven, rockin' my penguin hat, and trying not to stare at no one in particular. I board the train and right away this dude asks if he can sit with me. He immediately proceeds to take out his phone and call five million people. When the conductor comes to take our fare, the dude proceeds to whip out a huge wad of cash.  He then focuses his attention on me, asking if I'll be his bodyguard.  "You want me to be your bodyguard?" I ask. "Well, I mean, I do lift weights. Sure, why not." He then tells me he is a fighter, hence the cash. "A fighter? Like you bet on fights or you are doing the fighting?" Turns out, he does the fighting. He lowers his sunglasses revealing a nasty black eye. His name is Ramon and he has beef with me from the train platform earlier.  "I saw you give me this look." "I gave you a look??" "Yeah, like you was scared or something. You don't remember that?" He asks me. "No, I was just staring off but I'm sorry if I pulled a face. I do tend to roll my eyes a lot and not even realize I'm doing it." After Ramon and I squash our beef, he then proceeds to talk to me for two hours. Ramon is 42 and from Puerto Rico. He has lived in the Bronx, Wisconsin, and currently in Connecticut. He loves fighting more than anything. He knows how to respect the ladies because he has like six sisters. Ramon has a slew of kids himsef, the eldest being a twenty-seven year-old daughter. He switches Sim cards on his phone (because he has two and not everyone can know where he is) and logs onto Facebook to show me pics of all of his kids. Ramon tells me a story about a 21 year-old girl who lives three doors down from his ex and how he tries to help her but doesn't want her to get the wrong idea, because he respects and understands ladies after all. Ramon tries to teach me Spanish, tells me why he decided against enlisting in the army, and then informs me that God put us together. "Not like in that way, but like as a friend way. Like, I saw you and felt a click. That's God!" Ramon got off one stop before me and continued to wave from me on the platform as the train took off. Good times.

My mission when I get off the train is to find Cassie's (Bird, Cash $) work and hang out around there until she gets off at 6. Well, I got there around 5:23, so I spent a good amount of time sketchily loitering outside her building, sitting in a park, and then walking around the block. During this time, I received my test results for the Foundations of Reading MTEL (teacher test, blah!), and thankfully, I passed. That test was no walk in the park. For the first forty minutes I was trying to block the chick next to me out who was talking to herself about law stuff. Anyhoo, since I had time to kill and I passed the test, I figured it'd be fitting to treat myself to a happy hour drink. I'm a pretty straightforward drinker. I don't like to mess around too much, usually sticking to an occasional glass of Cab, perhaps a Heineken, or at times, a Tom Collins. Yet, somehow I'm pointing to a drink entitled "Heaven on Earth" on the menu and saying that I'll have that. WORST IDEA EVER. For one, I haphazardly neglected to check the price. "That'll be eighteen dollars please." Eighteen dollars! For a drink that has beets in it and burns my throat going down! I'm an idiot. "Heaven on Earth" looked like it belonged on a Christmas tree. I was sort of embarrassed to be drinking it. A guy approaches me. "Is this the drink menu? I'm Josh by the way." So smooth, Josh, getting your name in there. Josh and I and some other lady next to us begin talking for a good fifteen minutes or so. Evidently, everyone at the bar is to celebrate Kinky Boots the musical. "The producer's right there. Nice guy. So, you're here for the party too?" "No, I'm here to crash the party," I tell them. Josh is nice enough, and the lady (Maureen? Mel? Lucy?) opened up to me (after he went to mingle more) that she has been single for the past two years and has tried Match.com and everything but is very frustrated. Do I think she should just have a casual hookup? I like how I'm giving this middle aged woman advice after twelve minutes of meeting her.

Cassie finally gets off work and after I encourage Maureen (?) to do her thang, Bird and I are off to BK to meet up with our college friend Cruz. Cruz hangs out with us like once a year, usually meeting us at B.B. King's for a cover band of some sort, most likely involving the Rat Pack. So, we head to this German Beer Garden where I proceed to eat and drink things that will completely mess with my stomach. IBS what what!! Post stomach messin', we head to the Zombie Hut because we are quite interested in seeing what this entails. Well, somehow it is less Zombie (minus a delicious frozen orange thing named "frozen zombie. Well, it's actually terrible initially, but gets better), and more tiki-like. I like tiki-like though. And the jams are pumpin'! I'm talking R. Kelly and Beyonce! So good. Cruz, Cash and I start playing Apples to Apples and this group of friends asks to join us. Being the accommodating ladies that we are, we said but of course.  In order for the group, Dexter, Nathan, Takia, and I didn't catch his name but also nice dude, to join us, they had to ask other people to move. Thankfully, everyone was quite obliging at the Zombie Hut.  So, a rowdy game started. I don't think the newbies really liked our way of playing. We went for the less obvious choices, well, they were obvious to us. For instance, playing "lobster" for "inspirational". Makes total sense. Anyhoo, they were good people despite this. Dexter had a crush on Cruz but she informed him that after a scout, there was no talent in the bar. He was crushed. He tried to talk to me for a minute, and that didn't work out either, so we wrapped up the game and headed for some s'mores. Cassie had been wanting to go to Camp since moving to BK and I had always wanted to go but regrettedly hadn't when I lived there. So, up the street we went, to a place where you can order a s'more plate fully equipped with a mini-fire. Genius. Except, really?...no concern over drunk people playing with fire?! Anyhoo, the s'mores were simply divine. We were all in the can't-stop-dancing phase of our night, so we got low. A guy came over and asked us if we were "coked out Girl Scouts". Cruz took this as a compliment since "aren't people that do coke skinny?", but I informed him that we don't do coke, and we never did Girl Scouts. His name is Tom. His friend's name is Jerry. So, Tom and Jerry start talking to us. Meanwhile, Dexter and his friends have filed into the bar, looking for Cruz to ask for her number. She turns him down again, poor lad, and focuses on Tom and Jerry. As this is all happening, I'm at the DJ booth requesting Taylor Dayne, Three Dog Night, Weezer, and ABC's "Poison Arrow". The DJ's boyfriend is horrified by my song choices. The DJ ends up playing "Tell It To My Heart" but gives me a DJ etiquette lesson aka don't over-request. I feel bad. "Aaah! I know this! I know! I just really got excited!" He tells me it's okay and he hopes my "Gemini guilt" won't get the better of me, referring to a talk we had previously had involving astrology.

Well, after the s'mores were eaten and it was obvious the rest of my requests weren't getting played, Cash and I decided to call it a night. Cruz, meanwhile, stayed behind to chat up Tom and Jerry some more.

Roller skating to conquer fears.

I was in second grade.  It was Laura Brophy's birthday party.  Laura Brophy is the same girl who I would later let borrow my flute and then never returned it.  Laura Brophy is now a  music teacher.  I think I deserve some credit in this. ANYWAY. As I was saying, it was second grade and Laura Brophy held her birthday party at a roller skating rink.  I was terrified. I vividly remember sitting by myself in an adjoining room while everyone else fearlessly skated.

Skate Trainer

Twenty years later, and I decided it was about time to conquer my fears, so when a few friends from work asked if I wanted to go to the United Skates of America with them, I said hell yes.  The lovely ladies I went skating with, Melissa, Rose, and Leslie, brought along their kids, because well, it makes sense to have kids if you're going roller skating.  They graciously said I could share a kid and pretend that I'm helping them when in reality, they're helping me.  Thank god, United Skates have these contraptions called "skate trainers" that you can rent out. I had initially tried to tag along with Melissa's daughter on her skate trainer but I was definitely hindering her skating, so I had to get my own.  My friends kept encouraging me to go "Left! Right! Left! Right!" but I literally could not do it.  All I could do was grip the skate trainer for dear life and try to avoid all of the falling children.  So many causalities!!!  I made it around twice before I had to take a break. I was sweating profusely, arms hurting from relying on the trainer so much.  Melissa tried to help me off, which resulted to me clinging to her and  accidentally half-taking her shirt off.  Good times. I gave up on clinging to her, and decided to just sit down on the floor and crawl off the rink.  A skating referee guy asked if I needed help and I told him no thanks, I'm fine with crawling.  I didn't give up though! I think I made it around the rink eight or so more times (granted, with the trainer), before I put myself in charge of getting sodas. A couple of the other kids were also discouraged from falls, but most of them seemed to have already graduated from their trainers to flying solo.  Good for them!!

Going nowhere fast!

Take note: our feet are basically on the ground.

After all of the falls and sweat, we decided to try out the rock climbing wall. NOT EASY, folks.  Melissa and I blame the fact that we attempted the climb in our socks (our shoes were in our lockers, which we somehow managed to lose over $5.00 each on because we don't understand how to use lockers), for getting nowhere. All of the children reached higher heights than us. No biggie, haha.

Despite the fact that there was lots of perspiring, relying on a trainer, and climbing nowhere, I'm actually quite glad I went because I did it! I conquered a fear! Next up: biking!!

Silver Linings Playbook, Part Three.

Alright, so I just got in from watching The Silver Linings Playbook for the third time.  I'm sort of a big fan.  I believe the only other movies that I have seen multiple times in the theater are the following: Titanic (I was like twelve), The Departed (Go Boston!), and Midnight in Paris (so much whimsy!).

The first time I saw Silver Linings Playbook, I was walking in Brooklyn Heights with my dear friend Bird (has knock knees like Big Bird).  We were walking on Pineapple Lane (delicious) and there was a veterinarian clinic (I heart animals), and an apartment with fantastic gaslights outside of it (stellar). I was like, holla, this is the life.  Maybe one day I'll live on Pineapple Lane in that gaslight apartment and have a cat. And then we saw the movie and I was like damn, that's a good movie.

I saw it exactly two days later with my mom. This time in a strip mall in a small Massachusetts town.  I still loved it.

I then proceeded to read the book, which I enjoyed, but it was somehow not as good as the movie which is totally rare I feel.  The best part of the book, in my opinion, is the following passage, from the chapter, "I Fear Him More Than Any Other Human Being":

But he takes a deep breath and his soprano sax starts to sing the bright notes of "Songbird"....Kenny G's hips are swaying right before my eyes-with every brain jolt I'm yelling, "Stop! Stop! Stop!"-the end of his instrument is in my face, pounding me with smooth jazz..." 

Pounding me with smooth jazz??? Amazing. Plus, Kenny G has always kind of freaked me out too so I can relate.

Anyway.

Tonight, after taking some barre/meditation class, my friend Michaela and I met at a place called UnWINEd in the mall. It's a wine bar. Get it? UnWINEd??? And yeah, it's in the mall? What?

The place is kind of ridiculous. I mean, who drinks wine in the mall?? And there is like an older dude there playing a guitar which is strange, because really, where are we?! Then again, once I walked into the Rite Aid in town and there was someone playing a piano.  I kid you not.

Anyhoo.  So, two glasses of Cabernet later and we're going across the street to the movies in yet another, strip mall. Oh, America, you and your strip malls.

The cars are parked crazily, mainly in non-spots, as is often the case at this joint.  Yet, no one is there when we walk in.  Literally, no one. Like, we got in for free.

So, we are pretty stoked about this, duh, and then the movie begins. And I love it, again.

Now, it's a pretty amazing movie and it's funny but not like dumb funny, but rather smart funny, and it is hopeful and insightful, and makes you feel good and stuff.  But, another good thing about the movie is that it has definitely made me less judgmental when it comes to guys. Well, maybe.

Here's the deal.  I like one guy like every five years.  Random taste, but generally the guy does not wear khaki pants or football jerseys (and I like football! but, still...). And here is Bradley Cooper, wearing khaki pants WITH a football jersey in a GOOD scene, because mainly he is wearing a trash bag (yes, a trash bag) throughout the entire movie. And, he is bipolar. Yet, he is totally amazing.

So, now, thank you Bradley Cooper, maybe I will give guys that wear trash bags, khaki pants, football jerseys, and are bipolar more of a chance.

And also, the movie is really, really good. Believe me, I wasn't even into Bradley Cooper before this, so I guess in a sense, thank you movie for making me more open to Bradley Cooper. Maybe if I ran into him on the street I'd give him a chance now...or something...

And! When we left the theater, there was a cute bunny munching on dead grass on the outskirts of the parking lot.  That's gotta be a good sign, right?! A silver lining, if you will??

Anyway, go see the movie.

The end.

My Dad Listening to the Radio.

My sister had her birthday the other day. Naturally, we, as a family, went to a bar with a band who covers Sinatra songs.  Thankfully, it was crowded and therefore the singer was out of view, because he looked nothing like Frank, poor chap. It was extremely loud and no one could make conversation so we all resorted to texting throughout the meal. Thank goodness, my parents got with the 20th Century a few years ago. Their thumbs were moving faster than a speeding bullet throughout the night.  

After eating too much and getting serenaded by Frank, it was time to leave.

The car ride home.

Dad, in control of the radio, blasts Fat Joe.

"I really like this song." he says.

He turns up the music.

After song ends, he flips through the stations.  He stops on Pink for a few seconds.  "Pink!" he exclaims, humming along.

Then he fumbles through the stations again, stopping on the Black Eyed Peas. "Fergie, huh. Doesn't your mom not like her?" he asks my my mom, his wife. How does my Gma know who Fergie is? How does my Dad recognize her voice on the radio. Then again, this is the same guy, who announced that "Hips Don't Lie" is his favorite song when it came on in a Brooklyn bodega once. He was super jazzed.

He barely stops on the song though. "I'm really just trying to find the Lumineers. They're so hot right now." Yes, my Dad knows who the Lumineers are. What?! In fact, he came home the other day singing their song and claiming that they're the next big thing. Alright....He also knows more about the Kardashians and what's going on with each Mob Wife than I ever will...

More fumbling.  "Adele...She really is full of angst." he muses. 

In other news, my mom recently went out and bought the new Bruno Mars cd. 

Do I have the hippest parents ever? Quite possibly...

Also...

This dude looks nothing like Frank Sinatra (plus, the quality of this picture is terrible and I am obviously not a photographer):  

Fake Frank: sounds good, looks a hot mess.

But, these guys meanwhile:

Punx Phil. messing with us?!

As I was brushing more snow off of my car this morning, it dawned on me that Punx Phil was totally messing with us. Early spring, my ass. I can't actually blame him though. I mean, can you imagine being in a deep sleep and then being rudely awakened?! And it's not like, your family member or friend who is waking you up in a semi-nice way (which is still annoying), but like some random dude and there are a slew of people watching and cameras flashing in your face?! I mean, that sucks. It takes me quite awhile to fall asleep so I'm especially sympathetic. Plus, there's the idea that he's let himself go. Who wants to be captured with bed head, after gaining a few? Dude is probably like, "I'm 30 lbs heavier than I was in September and haven't properly groomed in months. I'm gonna mess with these bastards." Of course, we could give Punx Phil the benefit of the doubt-maybe he was just so taken aback by being stirred awake that he didn't intentionally screw up the weather forecast.  Either way, I'm in full support of this fine, fury fellow. And hot damn, he does look dapper in that hat! But please, spring, come back!!

http://www.weather.com/weather/5-day/Boston+MA+USMA0046:1:US

Let's Get Physical!!

8:45 am this morning: annual trip to the doc's. I know that I am a very large wimp when it comes to these trips. I hate being touched, I shudder at needles, and I pass out at blood tests. Seriously, I'm the nearly thirty year-old who wakes up to smelling salts and a juice box after getting blood drawn. I remembered to bring reading material for once, but somehow they called me in for the pre-checkup portion only five minutes after being there. I was eased into the whole sha-bang by getting weighed and measured, and good news!, I'm not shrinking; still walking tall at five feet. Though, I swear I was 5'2" in the eighth grade...Anyhoo, I wouldn't want to get any taller because "Five feet one inch of pure bliss" or "Hawaii Five One" doesn't sound nearly as good.

After that fun, I was escorted to a very tiny room that could have used some cheery decor. The lady tells me to put on the johnny and I spent the next five minutes worrying if I had put it on correctly or not. I mean, the last time my Gma was in the hospital, I distinctly remember her exposing her derriere to us as a result of the open part going in the back, but how does one tie this at this angle? Are we not supposed to actually tie this? The man in the pamphlet has it this way. Okay, I'll just leave it this way. I mean, I can always switch it, right?? Shoot, my Kindle is over there. How can I get up and get it if I have socks off? I mean, I could but do I really want to touch this floor again? Sick. They really need to paint the walls. Yellow would be nice. Once I settled on the open part in the back and came to terms that I brought my Kindle for no reason, I spent the rest of my time worrying about having to go to the bathroom. Agh, I probably shouldn't have had that tea. But I was tired. I am tired. Poor doctors, they always see me tired and spazzy. At least I'm friendly otherwise. Ah.  I have to pee, I'm pretty sure of it. And she's gonna feel on my bladder and aaah...

My thoughts were occasionally broken up from the voices outside of my confinement. Nurses singing "Bad Romance", a woman claiming that she doesn't know if she'll survive Valentine's Day, and another talking very passionately about fish.

I somehow manage to make it through the actual exam. I definitely pulled faces and also made jokes the entire time, but I maintained friendly at least. The nurse practitioner suggested I  learn more about anatomy and how things work. "What if the kids at school ask you something?" Yuck. I like to eat well and work out. I don't need to know what's going on inside otherwise, thanks. Then came the "When was the last time you got your Tetanus shot? Have you been cut? Bitten by something?" I replied, "Both actually, but somehow they didn't give me a shot. They gave me an ointment both times and offered me a hearing test." This is a true story. VERY ridiculous trips to to the doctors when I lived in Greenpoint, let me tell you. Anyway, I got the shot. No passing out! Score!

I've decided that I like the health industry in this order:

1. Orthopedic-went a couple of times in NY. Nice office, no needles, no violations. Good conversations.
2. Eye doc's-Last time I went, I had the most inspirational talks with the people that worked there. I do get confused when they ask me if this picture or this picture looks better though. I'm too indecisive for that kind of testing.
3. Dentist-I'm anti saliva vacuum (dry mouth much!), but I usually somehow manage to have nice chats there also. Points down for headaches, tool sounds, and blinding light in the eye.
4. Regular doc's/GYNO-Well, this is a pretty obvious one.

Thank you, goodbye! Not so fast...

Since August, I've been rockin' a long term sub gig in an elementary school. I have loved it. I get to hang out with six year-olds all day, play freeze tag (I accidentally knocked a couple of kids over playing on Thursday. They're tough though), and go to art class. You really can't beat this kind of lifestyle. Anyhoo, I was rather bummed because last Friday was my last day of work. I was going out with a bang however. All week was basically "Goodbye Kristen" week. A surprise luncheon was thrown in my honor, people gave me gifts, kids were sobbing. It was awesome. This surely beat all other jobs I've had. For one, no one has accused me of counterfeiting bills or grand larceny at this gig (yes, this did happen. Totally innocent), but also, people have just been so damn nice and welcoming. It's nice to be welcomed. I even received a balloon this week. Come to find out, the balloon was a leftover from a party that someone had thrown, but still, it's sort of like vintage then, and I've always wanted a balloon so whatever. Oh, and lasagna. I received a lovely box of frozen lasagna. I figure I'll eat one bite ever year on February 1st. It'll be my twist on the wedding cake.

I left work feeling sad but also very grateful. The following day I received a text message: I would have to continue working until Tuesday. The lady whose maternity leave I had been covering is actually not coming back until Wednesday. So, basically, there was a whole week of parties thrown in my honor and surprise! I'm actually not gone. This is kind of like how I filed taxes and received another W2 exactly the next day. Great. Anyhoo, tomorrow should be relatively awkward and most likely confusing as hell for the kids. It's confusing as hell for me. I wonder if there will be more cupcakes??

Waldorf Astoria, Holla!!! Part Deux!

Okay, where were we?! Oh yeah, the magic show. So, this woman, all dolled up in a blue evening gown, tells us quite matter-of-factly to quiet down, that he is coming! He being Steve Cohen. Blue Evening Girl is over-annunciating and taking her job very seriously.  We decided she must be an actress, or trying to be one. Then I thought, why don't I have this job? Is it because I'm too short for a dress that long?  I WANT THIS JOB! Anyway.

He finally arrives, looking part dapper, part straight out of an infomercial. He is really jazzed for the party to begin, often using a game show-esque voice.  His enthusiasm is very apparent, as is his lack of patience and shifting mood. One minute he is doing a card trick, the next he is scolding a man hardcore for getting up to use the bathroom. He also yells at a man for starting to approach the magic area. Steve did not let the man forget his mistake!! He referred to the man in with a disapproving tone for the remainder of the evening.

Mr. Cohen's tricks did not disappoint. He did something called "Think A Drink" where everyone wrote down their favorite drink and passed their paper along to one side. The papers were all shuffled and redistributed. Mr. Cohen called on one man who then called on another who selected another volunteer who in turn picked a volunteer. Those chosen yelled out the drinks on the cards they had as Steve got out a silver teapot. "Margarita!" And poof! A margarita drink poured out of the teapot. The volunteer with the margarita card drank the drink, confirming its realness. From the very same pot came a vanilla shake, Cabernet, and an apple martini. how in the heck?!

He also did this trick where he borrowed three rings from audience members, one being Mrs. C.'s. He shook all of the rings in a wine glass and bam! They were all linked together.  He walked around with the chain, having the ring owners confirm that those are in fact, their rings. After a few more shake, shake, shakes, the rings were once again separated.  Oddly enough, Mrs. C.'s ring was tighter than it had been before the whole debacle.  It did not fit properly again until the next day.

The real excitement came when the audience was asked to write down three random facts about themselves.  Once again, cards were passed to one side and shuffled by a random person. Like magic, Steve started calling out random facts about people in the audience. There is no way he had time to read these cards.  There was Eric who recently got married and was making baby bok choy for his anniversary dinner. Steve also pointed out a woman who he had a feeling had something to do with television and court.  Turns out, the woman had been summoned by Judge Judy! Who the hell has been summoned by Judge Judy?! Oh, this lady. What?! And then there was the man that Steve felt a knightly connection to. Steve kept bending at his knees, looking like a crazy, when he finally asked the man what his name is. The man replied "Neal". The audience at it up, let me tell you!! The whole experience was rather mind blowing to say the least. Mind. Blown.

  

Post magic, we were all a bit dazed and also thirsty. Well, I was thirsty anyway. Fear not! For we had our own freezer full packed with ice for ice water. Bam! Naturally, we decided the most sophisticated thing to do in such a beautiful setting is to order "Ted" on demand. Ah, yeah.

I didn't actually sleep that night, but wasn't for lack of comfort, more like sleeping is not a strong suit and all that ice water made me have to pee. BUT. The bed was something else. It was like a bed on a bed. It usually takes me a solid two hours to get comfortable and it only took around three minutes on that king-sized piece of heaven.

After mimosas and a delightful breakfast including chocolate croissants and lox (hot damn!), it was sadly time to go. Where to next??!! Well, to eat again! This time to a secret burger joint. It was one of those secret joints that is actually not secret because it is packed but at the same time, supposedly nobody knows about it.  The burger was rockin', the music pumpin', and the fellas were there in full force. I saw this one dude in line to order that I found to be so very delightful. What piercing eyes! What wonderful features! I thought about approaching him but then I looked down at my snow boots and remembered my sleeping bag (it was now fifty degrees). and decided to instead rush outside. Ha.