Eye Doctors for Emotional Support/Wearing Ex's Shirt=lame.

Okay, so there is that small part of me who can see the "beauty" in photographing heart broken women wearing their ex-lovahs' shirts, but basically I just think this is a Terrible Idea!!! I mean, obviously you're depressed, do you really need everyone in the world to see this public pining?! Sort of terrible, and by sort of, I mean completely.  Imagine the ex looking at this?! If anything, perhaps there should be photos of women burning these shirts?? Wouldn't that make more sense???

In other news, the eye doctors, I find, is an excellent confidence booster.  I have been twice in the last two weeks.  Since I'm on vacation, I'm basically always at a doctors of some sort, because I'm elderly, and besides eating dinner at 4 pm, what else is there to do? Anyway, the eye doctors. Great times! Well, minus the not being able to see for most of it due to the contacts being out.  Anyhoo. Every time I'm at the eye doc's, I always warn them that I am indecisive and determining which picture looks better will most likely be extremely difficult for me, and annoying for them.  Yet, every time I said "Ah, I'm not sure?" they responded with "Great! Good job!" In my head I'm thinking, okay, so I literally can't tell you if picture a or picture b looks better and I'm probably messing up this whole test, yet, I'm still doing great?! This is amazing! The best is when they asked me what my birthday is.  "June 6th," I replied.  I was confident in this answer, and they rewarded me, big time.  "You're right! Awesome! It is June 6th!!" Seriously?! I will pay a $15 copay and get poked in the eye EVERY SINGLE DAY for the rest of my life to feel this supported in life.  It's really a great feeling.

This is all I've got....

Inside my brain, right now:

1. George Lucas museum is opening up in Chicago. For some reason, I keep thinking I'm reading that a George Lopez museum is opening up.

2. Raisins should not be so hard to find. I am relatively obsessed with them lately.  The same stupid store down the street that does not sell lemon juice, also does not sell raisins.

3. My cat should spend more time killing bugs instead of looking at bugs. It's pathetic, really.

4. First pants, then your shoes. But what if you're not wearing pants? 

5. The prophet I met the last week claimed that I should be feeling "lighter"...Do you think this lightness takes a few days to kick in? Not feeling all that light yet. If anything, I'm feeling heavier than usual....

Real life stories have been happening and need to be blogged about ASAP: Mermaid Parade, crafting, life stuff. Wait for it, wait for it! It's coming. I just need to organize the brain and tackle a to-do list first!

Turning 80.

It seems I'm about to turn 80, not 30. I tried to go out last night, crash a bachelorette party, because I've heard that's the healthy thing to do (going out, not crashing bachelorette parties).  Dude, the pregnant chick lasted longer than me.

I don't know what ya'll talk about with your parents, but my mom definitely turned to me the other day and said, "So, TI got into a fight with Floyd Mayweather, huh? Do you know what this fight is about?" Before I could answer, she went on, "I wouldn't mess with Floyd." Then lots of laughter. "It happened at a Fatburger! This is amazing! Oh my, they were throwing chairs!"

Romeo and Juliet/the most boring post ever.

So, I'm doing Romeo and Juliet with my high school crew. Unfortunately, I've decided that Shakespeare is pretty boring.  Maybe boring is not the right word, but dude needs to get to the point.  So much "Thou art like one of those fellows that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table and says 'God send me no need of thee!' and blah blah blah" Then the kids ask me what the hell he means, and I'm like "dude is still talking about the same thing he has been talking about for the last 5 pages. Mercutio is calling Benvolio a hothead. Benvolio senses beef is gonna go down. the usual."  On the rare occasion when we actually pronounce the words correctly, I marvel for a good thirty seconds about how Shakespeare has mad rhyming skills, then my appreciation for him has once again, gone away.  The cool part about teaching this however, is that I get to go over some nifty literary terms.  Literally, as I was going over the climax of a story, my students and I simultaneously busted out to the song by Usher. Such sweet harmonies and falsetto, holla.  And monologues have been a true delight because it basically means that I show them clips from The Late Show, SNL, and the Tonight Show.  There's lots of "Are you guys done with reading? How about some #hashtags?"  Right now, one of my students is in the process of memorizing Kevin Hart's monologue from SNL and will be forced to perform with much gumption this Friday.

What else....well, though I do try to maintain a healthy lifestyle, I decided to drown my sorrows with a 3 pm dinner at Five Guys yesterday (because I am elderly and like cheeseburgers).  Not wanting to totally give up on life, I went to spin class in the evening.  Needless to say, I pretty much sweated out the food.  The entire workout room smelled like fries and a little cheeseburger afterwards.  Gross.  But delicious.

Ummm....

Came home yesterday to find my sock in my cat's dinner bowl.

Speaking of cats, I'm evidently a bad influence on my four year-old niece, as she stated the other day: "I don't like people. I just like cats, just like Kristen."

This is an entirely boring post, terribly sorry. You know what's not boring though? Cage diving with sharks aka what I've decided to do for my upcoming birthday.  

One Eyed Jack.

I'm not sure if his name is Jack, but he definitely has one eye. I got to talking to some lady on the train (naturally) about online dating. From my experience, online dating is the equivalent of the taking all of the herbs you'd meet at a bar and putting them on one convenient site. Score! So anyway, she was telling me this story about how she met her boyfriend online and they dated for years and while it was actually a pretty good (yet tragic, sad) story, it is too personal and not mine to tell. But one-eyed Jack, I feel no qualms about getting into that one. Anyway, she was telling me how she went on a date recently and not only was the guy way shorter than denoted online, he also only had one eye. I'm not even talking about a glass eye situation, just legit one eye was missing. Also, I am not hating on one-eyes. I mean, honestly, I don't want to see half the things I have to on a regular basis....Nevertheless, you may be wondering how she did not pick up on this from his pictures. I certainly was. Evidently, the dude only had pictures of his profile up. Pretty smart if you ask me. Also, this guy spent a year living out of his car in the middle of nowhere as a means to get life material to write about. Hey, he now has stuff published in New York Times. Maybe I should go live in my car.  Might improve my writing!

In other news, today the fifth grade class was subjected to the dreaded video about how the body changes. I remember watching that and being so appalled I didn't talk to my parents for a week. So, one of my students did not have her mom sign-off on being able to watch the video so she had to call and ask for permission. This lead to me asking her if she knew how to say "puberty" in Vietnamese. Lots of awkwardness ensued.

Speaking of awkward, I saw my grandma in her underwear tonight...

The end.

There Should Be AAA for LIFE!

The alarm goes of at 5:33 am. Naturally, I'm already awake. After getting in late from grad class (the fun never ends!), I ended up nodding off probably close to 12:30/1:00 am aka hardly slept. Still, I managed to get a lot of food together (substance what!), my laundry, gym stuff, work stuff, lots of stuff and mosey out the door with plenty of time to spare! I make the trek down three flights of stairs, throw Cheddar's poop in the trash, reach the car.  Keys. For the love of Peter, where are my keys?! After searching all of the bags numerous times reality sets in: work keys, car keys, apartment keys are all on my kitchen table.

I ring the doorbell and my lovely neighbor answers the door. Score! I am into the building. I ask her for my landlord's number (ever since my phone updated, numbers have not been saving correctly). Not being an English speaker, she has no idea what I am asking for. The irony that I am an ESL teacher is not lost on me. I get to my floor and try the door.  Just as I had suspected, it is locked. Cheddar proceeds to cry from inside the apartment for much longer than should be allowed. Does he meow all day when I am at work?? I decide to make some calls. I call my realtor, who, oddly enough, is my deceased great aunt (and she really was great!)'s adopted daughter. She has apartments to show but can get to me around 10:35 aka in 3 and a half hours. She sends me a kazzillion numbers to call in the mean time. I call all the numbers, no response. I go get a coffee. Coffee upsets my stomach but do you think I care? No. I head over to this delightful coffee shop where the peeps working the counter sing in vibrato just like I do! These are my people! I walk in and say that I need something "on the rocks".  Coffee is not really want I want but I understand that more adult options are not available here, especially at 8 am. I go for a butterfinger flavored iced coffee-not too shabby! I get all jittery, peruse the paper, find some good recipes, read my horoscope (crap), and kick it. A man with a an eye patch walks in. Wonderful. Cops come to the door. The counter peeps make siren sounds as they enter. One of the popo's has baby bangs. He's a dude cop with baby bangs. I mean, does it get any better than this?! Of course it does! Mrs. Luciano walks in! Mrs. Luciano is something else. The counter peeps have a whole song about her. It's all too good. I go to the bathroom (twice). The trashcan in the bathroom reads "don't front". What! You best not! I order a BMT: bacon, mustard, tomato and MUCH more! Cheese! Arugula! Hot peppers! So what if I ate a pb and banana sandwich at 6:30 am? What else am I going to do?? My phone rings. The realtor will be at my apartment with the keys in 5 minutes. She doesn't have much time for she has to get two teeth extracted. I pay, thank the peeps, leave them a penguin/cat/shark drawing, take my sandwich, and head off. When I reach my apartment, the outside door is locked. I had left it unlocked, but now it is locked. A sinking feeling sets in---does my realtor have an exterior key or just an interior key?! The realtor arrives. No, she does not have an exterior key, just an interior. We spend the next 6 minutes banging on the doors, ringing the bells, and calling the other tenants. Nothing! The realtor has to go get her teeth extracted. She leaves. I eat my sandwich on my apartment steps. It's truly magnificent. Thank you sandwich. I bite the bullet and call a locksmith, $75, will be there in a half an hour. Meanwhile, the realtor calls back. She went all the way to the dentist, got the Novocaine and then is told that the replacement teeth are not in. Not wanting to show apartments toothless, she jumped out of the dentist's chair and ever so kindly got back to me. She had gotten in touch with the landlord, he is so sorry he missed my call, he has a spare key....45 minutes away. My realtor aka guardian angel, goes to get the key for me. I go to get a drink, because at this point?? Oh, how have I not mentioned that I had to take an emergency personal day at work due to the whole I cannot literally get to work today thing. Ideally, my personal day would have gone to time on a beach or something of that nature, but this is definitely more on par with my life. G.A. (guardian angel) suggests I go to a coffee shop. It's 11:35 am, no more coffee for me, I'm getting a DRINK. I walk into this cute crepe joint, "Is it too early to get a drink?" The bartender guy is like, "Have you met me?" No, I have not met him, but he is not bad. There is another woman at the bar area who is treating herself to anything she wants for the day. Today she wants a hot dog. She ends up getting this huge hot dog crepe with chili on it. Her collar is glittery like a disco ball. She can literally start a dance party wherever she goes. I let her know this. The bartender and I spend the next hour discussing milk, contemplating why it's called a toothbrush and not a teethbrush. and trying to figure out the back/front of the arm--the arm is sort of both front and back at the same time! The convo is good, real good, but my phone rings again. G.A. will be at the apartment in ten minutes with the keys. It's 1:11 pm.

Finding the humor in the situation, I made a status update about it on Facebook. Some people comment that they are sorry about my day. Is it bad that this is one of the BETTER days I have had in a while?? Ha, oh man. My sister wrote that there should be AAA for apartments, to which I responded, "There should be AAA for LIFE!" It's not all about cars and apartments. Guy you're dating has gone missing? There's AAA for that! Cat is attacking your feet? There's AAA for that! The man getting you down? There's AAA for that!

Also, I have not written a blog entry in months. Too busy with work and school and non-fun, but yo, stuff is still ridiculous, and I've got stories to tell!

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....