Update:


1. The below Asshat has changed his facebook profile picture. I'm really proud of myself right now. Changing the world, one facebook profile at a time

2. I'm running low on nasal spray

KK.

......Sometimes I Just have to Shake My Head....

So there's this guy on Facebook who felt the need to add me because we share the same last name. In his facebook picture, he is wearing military fatigues, a belle-clave and holding a VERY large automatic weapon.

........Sorry Mother but I couldn't keep my mouth shut.....

My response:

Hello there,

Look, I'm not going to lie to you... Your picture makes me sick. You're perpetuating a violent stereotype about the Irish and the IRA militia that actually makes life harder for us Irish all over the world.

I'm proud of where I came from, and I am a proud catholic. But you are not representative of my Ireland, nor of my catholicism.

Sinn Feinn (the political faction) have been making headway in a diplomatic reach towards peace, and your blatant affinity for fatigue and weaponry on a social networking site that has millions of young and impressionable people is one of the obstacles that makes it difficult for them to do their job.

Most people would have a problem saying what I'm saying to you, since you obviously feel quite at home cuddling up to a rather large gun. However, I wouldn't be Irish if I didn't speak up... and I most certainly wouldn't be a good catholic.

I hope that the cold metal of your gun shaft keeps you warm at night.

KK.

Man Friend pt 2: The Perfect Way to Say Good-Bye

As explained in 'Man Friend pt. 1: Things Your Man Friend Should Never Say,' (which you probably haven't read because of the close proximity of the postings....I recommend skipping down and reading first), Man Friend and I have a limited time together. Even more limited because I've made plans with other people for the next few weekends, so this was (is) our last weekend of totally hanging out.

I'm currently fighting Malaria (OK, not Malaria, but it's some sort of brutal respiratory tract infection that is KILLING ME....or just making me cough really really badly), and my boss, who is a doctor mentions that some time in the Alps might do me some good. Yes, that's right folks, my prescription was Mountain Air. What am I? Freaking Heidi? Anyways, so I invite Man Friend along. Basically, I invite him to plan the whole trip since he knows his way around WAY better. He does, and we plan to go on Saturday at like 6 am. But I'm sick, so he lets me sleep in, and we meet up for the 8 am train (To my North American peeps.... Swiss timing is INSANE. 6 am seems like a totally natural hour to these people. Man Friend is not Swiss but he has been socialized accordingly). Letting me sleep in pretty much makes you my hero any day of the week.

So, we get there a few hours later, grab the bus up the mountain, then grab a gondola a little bit farther and then we start to hike. So, fresh mountain air may very well be good for the respiratory tract, but do you know what is NOT? HIKING UP 2000 METERS TO THE FRESH MOUNTAIN AIR. I almost died, and I am NOT that out of shape (please see previous post and apply this to there as well).

So after going into a major hyperventilation state, Man Friend suggests that we take it easy and just hang out around there for a while. I concur. We find a lovely little stream of glacial water running down in the middle of the greenest field that I have ever seen, with jagged snow topped peaks surrounding us on all sides. It was mystifying, and breathtaking (if I had any), and awe inspiring. The scene is what the person who coined the term: 'awesome'* must have felt.

We spread out under the sun and the blue cloudless sky and just relaxed, and napped. Yes people, today I napped in the swiss Alps... How was your Saturday?

I woke up to Man Friend in the stream, playing with rocks. I didn't pay much attention, because really...... I don't care.

Then he says "catch" and he throws me a totally flat rock that he has shaped into a heart.

It was the perfect gesture for our situation and our time together. No long drawn out admissions or stereos under a window, just a simple: here's a rock.... I cared enough to do this for you.

It's exactly what I needed.

During my time with Man Friend, I have often felt like we were together in another life, and today, I felt like I was getting a chance to say Good-bye to him the way that I had been deprived of in the past. Such a weird and New Age feeling which is so NOT me, but I had the feeling none the less, and if it's true, I'm grateful for the perfect good-bye that I never had. And if it's not: I'm grateful for the perfect Good-bye that I had just had at that moment.

A few hours later we went down the mountain to grab a beer.... at which point, the story is completed in the preceding post, and he ruined my perfect good-bye. Hence my desire to keep the two memories separate.

I'm still annoyed that he ruined it.

KK.

P.S. Mountain Air does help.... it's the getting up and down that SUCKS.

*awesome in the biblical sense, not the 'hey dude' sense.

Man Friend pt 1: Things Your Man Friend should Never Do

I'm going to write this post in two parts, simply because I want to remember the two events totally separately. I've had this Man Friend for a great many months (great many months to me, may not be the same as great many months to you). We live in the same European city, and he is about 13 years older than I am.
For those of you that don't know, a Man Friend is different than a Boy Friend. We spend boat loads of time together and really enjoy each others company, but for whatever reason, a parting is inevitable and therefore exclusivity is ruled out of the equation. I feel that I'm making my Man Friend seem a tad more mature than he really is, and he'd admit that openly.
He's definitely an 18 year old at heart, and sometimes dress.

As a disclaimer, I care for him very deeply, in a way that one can only care for a Man Friend. The typical sentiments and grading of feelings do not apply because there is no progression in the relationship. It's just assumed that the old adage: "a different time, a different place" applies to your situation.

No, he's not married. But, I am leaving Europe in about 30 days, and this city in 15, so our time is, and has always been limited.

Now, I'm going to start with the annoying part of my day with Man Friend, because I'd like to only remember the good part, therefore I'll write that last (we ALL know that this wont work).

So, here goes:

Things your Man Friend should NEVER say...EVER:

1. "Wow THAT girl is too skinny, I don't like chicks that are too skinny..." (he says while looking at you slightly adoringly........ the skinny chick you ask? She's also PREGNANT)

2. "I have this friend that is dating an overly attractive girl.... and he's always wondering when she's going to trade up. That's why I don't date overly attractive girls" (7 months dude. 7 months. Honestly, I suppose dating isn't the right term for our involvement, but oh wait... YA it probably is unless you want to get all technical. It's just never going beyond dating...asshat!)

3. "Here, you get in the picture with those two cows, and now it will be three cows" (This was a funny joke when the above two hadn't been said yet)

4. "I can't understand why you're annoyed"

5. ..........I'm sure there was more, I just stopped listening after this.........



The end.

KK.

The Good and The Bad

Good news: I've lost 5 pounds from being sick this week, and I'm starting to feel better (just in time for my hike in the mountains with my Man friend.)

Bad news: I may have a slight addiction to nasal spray.

Obama Has Done It!

He did it. He finally did it. He won me over. At least his speech writer did, but his deliverance was charismatic and eloquent in a way that not many people can deliver.

I've often talked about his lack of experience, but his ideas are fresh, and we can't discount the combined years of experience of his advisers. I like him. I have to say it: I like him a lot. And, I would be proud to have him as the next president of the United States. Of course, I'm Canadian so it's not really something that I can be proud of per say...but still.*

I can't even do his speech justice, which fell on the 45th anniversary of Martin Luther King's speech... the one involving a dream, heard of it? If you haven't seen his speech, I strongly recommend Youtubing it. He had the class and character about himself, his party and even his opponent that inspires me.

That being said, I received a little comment the other day regarding my last uber American political post that I would like to address. Before all is said, I have to say that the writer is a personal friend of mine. I have nothing but the utmost respect for him, and I find his perspective as a black man refreshing in my white washed life, in which we are both immigrants to a new nation. However, if you don't know him, and you read his comment, it might seem like he's an asshat. So let's address that.

This is the comment:

Well... first I have to say, that I agree... there are way too many people being phony/fake in this real-ass world... and to be honest, I have no time for them, except for “hello!!!” and more importantly “BYE!!!!!!”
Yet... as a black man and closet feminist (though I'm working my way out) I have to comment on Barack & Hillary (for that matter)... The 'White Man’s House' as I like to call it has very little to do with actual politics (politics meaning what it should and not what it is) but more to do with big brother and a high price fashion show and/or popularity contest.... It's has been that way since the fuckers wrote the constitution... And those with "real politics" who have an actual opinion and express it, they get shot and "6 feet under" real quick like... (ie. Kennedy and M. King....)

what’s my point??? Am I another fanatic just talking shit????... (maybe...) but there is something to people voting strictly because it's a woman or a black man... I wanted to see either of them in the WHITE MAN’s HOUSE because it's never been that way before... and it’s because of the bullshit people/aliens (heh) behind the scenes, also the same shit we all seem to except, because it’s in the paper or on the news.
So... since its always been a white man in THE WHITE MANs HOUSE regardless of politics... why not blindly vote for a white woman or black man, we have been doing the same for white men all of our lives... So if that “black man” is talking about going to war (which always happens) or that “white woman” is talking cheaper taxes (which never happens) WTF!!!! They have all just been puppets, that don’t mean anything they say anyways…..
So…. To conclude…. What is my end point??? Maybe if your Irish ass ever dates a black man or white woman (lovezzzz it), maybe give them a chance….. They might just have something behind that useless thought….


1. There is nothing closet feminist about you, Random (if, in fact that is your real name...) You're full out feminist. Learn it, Love it, Deal with it.

2. Uhhh The White House has nothing to do with politics? Hmm.... Let's take a quick second and google the term, shall we?

pol·i·tics

1.	the science or art of political government.

2.	the practice or profession of conducting political affairs.

3.	political affairs: The advocated reforms have become embroiled in politics.

4.	political methods or maneuvers: We could not approve of his politics in winning passage of the bill.

5.	political principles or opinions: We avoided discussion of religion and politics. His politics are his own affair.

6.	use of intrigue or strategy in obtaining any position of power or control, as in business, university, etc.

7.	(initial capital letter, italics) a treatise (4th century b.c.) by Aristotle, dealing with the structure, organization, and administration of the state, esp. the city-state as known in ancient Greece.

Perhaps not number 7 or 5, but the White House most certainly stands for numbers 1-4, and 6. Hmmm... seems cohesive to me. Perhaps you mean transparency in politics. And if so, then I agree with you. This is what I often say intrigues me about African politics, the blatant transparency. Every country has the politics you see and the politics that you don't. In Africa, I find that they don't really care if what you see is decrepit and corrupt... and they don't do too much to hide it. Whereas, in the states and Canada, we're big fans of acting diplomatic and then sending unmarked snipers into a country. Or, trading their votes on one important issue for assurance that their own legislation will see the light of day. Sneaky Sneaky, but that's why politics are interesting; they aren't always pretty.


3. Ummmm Kennedy was NOT about real politics, at least not the way you describe it. He was from the most high priced political families, and he used his office to have an affair with Marylin Monroe. We idolize him because he was shot. Not saying he wasn't a very nice chap, but seriously... can someone tell me what it was that he did? (His wife also influenced fashion for decades...see every fashion line of Chanel....you brought up fashion, not me... )And M. King was a civil rights leader... not a politician, although he did influence political decisions for decades...


4. Are you suggesting that voting for someone based on gender or color is the best way to go, because really in the end it doesn't mean anything anyways because you're a giant conspiracy theorist and you think that they aren't the ones in charge in the first place? Interesting, Random, interesting. I'm still a big fan of voting on the issues, although I have been known to throw down the strategic vote if I'm not a fan of any of the proposed responses to the issues. However, I think that comedic GENIUS Tina Fey summed it up best on this point when she said: "Isn't it great that we have come so far since the feminist movement, and gaining the right to vote that we don't feel that we have to vote for someone simply because she's a woman? Instead, we vote for who Oprah tells us to (Obama)."

5. Ummm I never said that I thought anyone had a useless thought. I was ALL about Hillary and now, in the wake of hers' and Bills' urging, and Obama's amazing speech, I am ALL about Obama. CHANGE!!! And I have dated a black man, and a brown man... take THAT, I'm like the freaking United Nations of Ex-boyfriends.

In conclusion, you are not an asshat, Random. Instead, you are a bitter and jaded individual, but that aside, and more importantly, you are right. A lot of people feel the same way as you do. So let's shake things up America.... VOTE OBAMA!

(If he gets in, I think he should have a congratulatory BBQ at the White House...)

*CNN's 'the campaign trail' has the BEST commercial about how their special correspondent knows American politics like only a Canadian can. I love it.

A Cynics Guide to Fairy Tales.

Late late last night, while I was coughing up a lung, I had the great pleasure of talking to a friend of mine, an ocean away for about 3 hours straight. He entertained me and we did a crossword together while I coughed in his ear.** I was/am seriously drugged up (read: two cough suppressants, nasal spray and some kind of potent version f neo citron). So, there we are doing a cross word puzzle, and one of the answers is: Hansel and Gretel. I immediately went off on a tangent about what could be expected if Hansel and his sister were in the modern day... and this is what resulted:

Once upon a time, there were a brother and sister named Hansel and Gretel. They hailed from a typical suburban home, where they lived with their father, their step mother and their dog: skip. Their mother had died very early in life, and their father had remarried when they were 12, and adolescent hormones were in abundance.
Truth be told, their Stepmother was a fair and decent person, however, they wreaked havoc on her because she was their Fathers' backbone. If you had asked her, or anyone else for that matter, she had come in just when she needed to. The kids were god awful spoiled, as their father was so distraught by the death of his wife, that he gave them virtually everything and anything that they asked for. I mean really, what does a 12 year old need with a Ducati anyways? Their new Stepmother intervened and made it her sole mission to ensure that they became well balanced and proactive members of society, instead of little spoiled leaches that were about to put their middle classed father into either a substance abuse program or a welfare program (and as we all know in not so PC ways, the two are not always mutually exclusive).
Of course, Hansel and Gretel rebelled. At 14 and 15 they complained daily to their friends at school about the new instituted measures, such as locks on the alcohol cupboards and the rules about no high powered machinery until fully licensed to use said machinery. Their friends consoled them, sometimes even sneaking a Mickey of vodka to their high-priced high school. By 16 and 17, they had learned the art of sneaking out of their suburban neighbourhood under the pretence of studying for a final, even in September.
Next thing their proud father and slightly exhausted and now nervous Stepmother knew, they were off to college. Their Stepmother was relieved when they chose to go to a school across state lines (oh they are SO American). Sure, she had "encouraged" them to seek adventure, and sure, she had mentioned that "adventures" were only really "adventures" if they were more that 50 miles away, but in the end; they had made the choice themselves. Both father and Stepmother stood waving goodbye at the end of the drive way, Father recounting their younger years and the fine specimens that they had grown into. Step Mother relieved and excited about having her husband all to herself for the first time... EVER (Yes, a tad selfish she would admit to herself, but most women got to spend a few years with the man they loved so desperately before they embarked on a family, and she was happy to go backwards for him, but she was happy that her time was now).
Once at the dormitories, Hansel and Gretel got acquainted with everyone over a 26er of rum, which they had swiped from the liquor cabinet (at 16 Hansel had a copy of the key cut). Soon enough it was all bright lights and keg parties. Hansel became the ladies man of his dormitory and every other dormitory. Soon enough, he realized that dating college girls is expensive, what with all the 2-dollar shots nights a week, and a whole 7 days in a week. So, he took up a side job selling pot.
Gretel was recruited to the Nu Psi Gammas and began to test out her new found freedom and womanly nature with the frat boys.
One day the two were invited to a Keg party. They drove the old Mercedes to the party. They had wanted a new matching set of Beamers for their graduation but their step mother insisted, in her horrible mean way that they should not be given such an "extravagant" gift for merely passing high school, and they were promised it for college graduation instead. They both took the stance that to deprive them of vehicular luxury and style for four years was one of her worst abominations as a Stepmother. Gretel joked to Hansel: "Well, at least we'll be able to find our way back, what with the OIL leaking out the back of the car." Hansel laughed and responded by calling their stepmother a bitch. They both laughed together. It was true, the car DID leak oil, but only because they had used the money their stepmother had given them for Hansel's start up pot business. However, it came so natural for them to blame this on her 'No New Beamer Snafu' of 4 months earlier.
Once at the party, they skipped the entrance fee due to the infatuation of Gretel by the Frat boy/Door man. At the tender age of 17, free entrance, and ensuing free kegged beer, of this was the equivalent of coming upon a candied house with the hungry eyes of a 6 year old.
The party went well, at least until Gretel hit her head on the chandelier while dancing on the table and Hansel threw up on the feet of the president of the fraternity. He was quickly surrounded by 3 large men. However, instead of apologizing, he saw this as an opportune moment to mouth off. The immediately threw him on the front lawn, and locked the door. In a huff, he txt messaged his sister to say he was leaving her there with her 'new friends.' And that he did.
Later that night, when his father called to check in, he told him that he had left Gretel at a party. Once off the phone, the Stepmother insisted that their father drive up and make sure everything was all right. She wasn't their mother, but she still had a gut instinct. After about 10 minutes of his excusing the party as "good clean fun," he finally agreed to go if it would make her happy.
Once at the party, their Father walked in, only to find his daughter. Gretel was unconscious and wreaking of booze in a bedroom with a snivelling little 20 year old boy, lurking over her, about to do god knows what.*** He slung her over his shoulder and took her to the hospital where she had to have her stomach pumped. When she woke up, her eyes swelled and she whispered "Daddy..." and his heart melted.
Years later, and after several similar incidents throughout Gretel’s college career (and I say Gretel, because Hansel was kicked out after the first year for selling pot and failing all of his classes), and Hansel’s countless retail and bar jobs; rehab; falling off the wagon; and rehab again, Gretel wrote a book. She wrote a tell all, best selling book about her life, her riches to rags life, in which she vilified her step mother to the point of social humiliation so great, that Oprah called for her side of the story. Of course, no one would ever believe her side of the story, except her husband who lived in his happy little naive bubble and felt that it was a harmless claim that had at least given Gretel some sort of career. He died of cancer later that year. Hansel and Gretel tried to ban their stepmother of 20 years form the funeral, but to no avail. However, they did sit across the aisle and stare at her the whole time that they were supposed to be, and she was sincerely grieving, whispering "gold digger" under their breath.
Her reputation was in shambles. The love of her life was dead and gone, and the kids that she had helped raise hated her. Finally, she got wise, and when the will left her with a great chunk of money, she decided to give Gretel the sequel to her book, on a silver platter. She took her money, changed her name and moved to the Cayman islands to live her life out in peace and quiet.
Sure enough, Gretel's second book made the best sellers list within weeks.




** This is no normal sickness. It's the stuffy nose, hacking cough, tissue up your nose for hours, neo citron is my new water type of sickness.
*** Totally untrue, we all know what he was about to do.



KK.

Why I'm a dork

I just can't stop.


I've been sick for almost a week now, and it's just getting worse. My fever is rising, my coughing keeps the upstairs neighbors from getting sleep, and my doctor suspects that I have pneumonia. And what am I doing, you ask?

I'm reading Malaysian newspapers.

Did you know that the official opposition leader, who is getting pretty popular with people is being accused of sodomizing his aide, by his aide?

And the fun doesn't just stop there... it's like a friggin soap opera. Here's the run down:

Characters:

Anwar Ibrahim: The opposition --- played by Morgan Freeman
Saiful Bahari: The 23 year old Aide accusing him of these acts--- played by that white snivelling skinny kid thats always the weird criminal in those crime shows
Abdulah Badawi: The current prime minister--- played by Jim Carrey ( I have no reason for this, neither logical or comical)


Setting:

Malaysia.
Muslim Country
60% Malay majority who are pretty much favored in every respect. Jobs, university admission....so on....

Plot:

So awhile back, Anwar (Freeman) was all into politics and what not when someone randomly accused him of sodomy...for which he got 15 years in prison since it's illegal in Malaysia. He still maintains his innocence... as does his wife. This guy had major supporters and tens of thousands of people took to the streets in a major upset.

Now, on the eve of a new election, where it actually looks like Anwar is going to take a vast majority away from the current PM, Badawi (carrey), all of a sudden his former Aide (skinny white kid), who happens to be MALAY (the ethnic group that has the most to lose if he is elected) is accusing him of forcing it up his ....ummm......... well yes.

Also interestingly, the first doctor to examine him says that there was nothing, nor has there ever been anything up that aides bum. Interesting indeed. No one can find this doctor anymore and a second opinion has been sought.
Furthermore, the PM is getting pretty vocal about seeking justice for the aide.......

really? Seriously? Last time I checked, it takes two to participate in bum sex, and yes of course there is rape....... but I dunno, maybe it's my background in forensic psychology, but it just seems unlikely that a senior politician would force himself on his young aide, whom he has to work with every day in the media spotlight. If he WAS going to participate in a sodomatic act with someone, it would be with someone that he trusted, had convinced to trust him (if he were indeed a predator and not just an in the closet gay male)....

I just find the image of Anwar forcefully bending his aide over a boardroom table, sodomizing him (Which is NOT a pleasant experience when someone is unwilling... therefore is NOT a quiet experience), while all the other aides and secretaries went about their daily routine out in the office.
No one called Lewinsky a victim of sexual harassment.


I smell a rat........

Well back to the land of the undead for me... aka, my bed.

KK.




FYI
The term sodomy refers to the homosexual activities of men in the story of the city of Sodom in the Bible. The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah because of their residents' immorality became a central part of Western attitudes toward forms of non-procreative sexual activity and same-sex relations. ***************

******* Actually... Sodom and Gomorrah was a Hebrew folktale about hospitality. People just interpret it in a modern context, which is where this idea comes from.

How to force people to give you money...for a good cause

Have you ever really wanted to do one of those walks or runs? You know the kind, they hold them for every good cause known to man. The walk for the cure, breast cancer, MS, battered women, and so on.
I find myself often in a predicament, being that I WANT to participate, and I always have good intentions to, but I hate having to ask people for money. That's a total lie. I love it, but let's call a spade a spade, it can get very annoying to have to ask all of your friends to donate money to your cause all the time. Especially if you have over 2 causes.


So, here's my guide to hounding your friends and family for money:

1. Divide your friends and family per cause. Don't ask all of them for every cause. Personally, I devide them up a few times: Big spenders and employed small spenders and unemployed/broke. After that, I ignore all unemployed/broke because it's not fair to ask them, and then I divide the big spenders and the employed small spenders into the causes for which I will pester and hound them.
** If you are employed, you will be exploited for money --- this is my mantra

2. First, I send out personal messages to everyone. Normally the website for your cause allows you to do this through their site. The personal messages should be funny. No one wants to feel like you're using some sob story to extort money, save this for later. Thanks to fox news, we're all totally desensitized to everything. The messages should be short and sweet. Most people probably wont even read them, but they should all include something more personal than just using their name.
I.E. "Dear Nicholas, I'm doing the run and walk for the cure this fall. Your donation and the amount thereof will work towards my considering your many marriage proposals..."


3. Follow up phone calls. Start with the big spenders. Why? Because you have your best stuff at the beginning and this is a good time. ASK HOW THEY ARE DOING FIRST.... but don't jump into a conversation and then talk about your need for dough as an after thought .... get to the point within 4 sentences, because by then, people are already thinking of how to get you off the phone. I also mention at this point that my mother is a survivor, which is why I'm doing the walk. It's cheap and dirty and it works. Get them to subscribe to an amount, and then tell them that you are sending and email with the link in which they can click and donate... tax receipts can be sent directly to them this way, and you dont have to handle cash. Always finish the conversation by saying, "Thanks so much, I wont keep you but I'll definitely call you to catch up soon." This makes people feel like you aren't using them for money. Even though you are.

4. A few days later, if you notice that they have yet to do good on their verbal (and in some places, BINDING) contract to sponsor you.... Harass them. This is where it differs, and the subgroups of potential sponsors differ.

4.a. The big spenders-- wait a few weeks/days and call them again. "Hey, I noticed that you hadn't had a chance to visit my donor page. You had said that you wanted to sponsor this cause, so I thought I'd remind you. If you want, I can help fill it all out." This may not work.....because big spenders are big spenders for a reason, they have money and they know how to say no to spending it. However, if they didn't blow you off the first time by saying "Oh gosh darnit, i already donated to that cause this year" then you can play the innocent card and ask again.

4.b. The employed small spenders. Harass them. Hard. I advice during the above phonecall... you pre warn them that you're monitoring your page and that you will be harassing them in the near future. Most people find this funny and comical, until you start to do it. An email here and there.... you know. Don't be mean.... be funny... people like funny.
e.x. Hey ...sooo.... Your name has yet to grace my donation page.... it's sad and waiting for you. Put it out of it's misery and give it some money. Pleaaaaaaaase.
or
ex. Research isn't done on good will.... Show me the money!

Always remember your please and thank you's folks.


5. Send out a mass email a week before your closing date as a reminder to those that didn't get around to you and the massive impact that you are about to make on the world by walking a km for breast cancer research.
If they haven't donated by this point, perhaps they forgot, but more likely they hate you for asking them.

Which MEANS.... you can put them in your next cause's list and harass them again next time around.... one day they will feel guilty and throw you 20 bucks... and if 5 people do that, then you have 100. Sure, you may lose some friends over it... but they are cheap jerks who would probably invite you to their baby showers for the presents and never give you a dime towards the future insurance that you will not need to lose two breasts to a scalpel one day....

** don't forget to write thank you cards!!!


And that is how I exploit people out of money.

KK.

Still the reigning monarch of passive aggressiva

Background: My best friend Danner* and I have known each other since our first day or our first year of college... many many years, 4 degrees between us, and several life events ago. I met him when I needed help carrying my computer.... and decided that he would be an advantageous friend later that hour when I needed help setting up my computer. Our entire residence thought we were sleeping together, because Danner moved his entire mattress into my room and slept on the floor for two weeks after someone tried to assault me in my room after I had left my door unlocked (stupidly). The sleepovers totally continued but in a platonic and perfect friendship way.

Ladies, you can agree with me when I say, the perfect friendship is this: You + obnoxious+ incessant teasing+ total adoration = Him + tolerance+ over protectiveness

No?

So anyways, we're in our first fight of our friendship, and it's slowly killing me inside. For the last almost decade, we have not missed more that 6 days in a row of speaking on the phone, no matter if we are in different cities, countries or continents.... and he has not answered my calls for the past 14 days.

Basically, he got a girlfriend. And I'm not saying that is the reason that he neglects my phone calls. In fact, the reason is that I called her stupid.** I haven't met her. My bad.

At day 4, I reasoned that perhaps the time difference made it difficult to make contact. By day 6 I thought that maybe he had taken an impromptu trip somewhere. By day 9, when I tagged him on a silly photo in facebook, only to have the tag mysteriously disappear several hours later... I got suspicious.

I didn't realize that he was still upset about my little verbal snafu. I mean, I immediately explained to him that in the entire time I've known him, he has never had a girlfriend and I was always number one and that this new role as number two was something that I had to adjust to. But, that's a HUGE step for me, because 3 years ago, I wouldn't have even accepted being number 2 at all. Number 1 or bust baby. But, in my senior state, I realize that sometimes, just sometimes, you have to give way to someone else.... which sucks, but I'm doing it dammit.

So, today, on day 14, I decided that his angry time was up. I've decided to instate daily calls. And not just any daily calls... but daily calls that include the mundane details of my day on his voicemail, as if we were still friends that talked nightly about the mundane details of our day.

Today's went as such:

"Well... you're getting daily phone calls now... just like you still don't hate me and we're friends. Today I watched Schindler's list for the first time, and now I want to die a little on the inside. I want to cry for humanity at every moment. What about you? It's almost time for your girlfriend to be back in the city, I'm sure you're excited for that because that's exciting***...and your mom is coming back from vacation soon. Good times. Well, talk to you tomorrow..."

What I left out was the part about how my laptop has broken almost in half, literally...and it's my life and I'm terrified that the little cord that connects the hard drive to the screen will be severed, thereby losing me everything i hold dear.

But it's OK, because I just put it in my blog, and I will be immediately sending the link to Danner, who will then read about how distraught I am about his hatred for me..... :( ****

* Danner... obviously not his real name
** OK, I didn't actually call her stupid... what I said was: "Oh you shouldn't have told me how young she was because now I'm going to have a preconceived notion of her being stupid" NOT the same thing.
*** I should get points for the sucking up I did....really
**** I put a frigging sad emoticon thingy in my blog Danner... in my blog. That's humiliating.... Seriously. But I did it like a 15 year old emo boy just for you because our silence is flooding me with emotions, and this is my last ditch effort before I go buy angsty pants and dye my hair black and cut it so that it sits in my face all day, every day.

KK

P.S. If I had a readership or audience of any kind, I would ask them to vote on if he should forgive me or if I should start being more aggressive in my passive aggressive phone calls...

There is a Land Called Passive Aggressiva, and I am the Queen

OK...

So I was reading randomness on he web this morning, instead of reading the news. This rarely happens, but for some reason the inducement of Biden as Obama's running mate does not interest me in the least. I feel like he looked at mug shots and chose the person who looked the most like McCain. Way to shake things up a bit there brotha...

Anyways, the randomness I found to be the most useful to my life read: I sat and read the archives for over an hour was found at: http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/

One note that interested me highly was an anonymous note to a co-worker which stated that he nails were too long and that her typing was thus too loud and it included some suggestions to rectify this for her fellow coworkers.

Now, I appreciate a good piece of passive aggressive literature as much as the next blogger, but seriously... seriously?

Then I spent possibly a bit too much time thinking of what my personal reply might have been. This was, in fact, a useful waste of time as I happen to have long nails, and I like them and one day this might annoy a co worker... you know, if I ever have any.

So this is what I would do. I would P.I. my butt all over the office and find out who it was, claiming that I wanted to apologize. Eventually, you would find out, because office workers are worse than sorority girls when it comes to gossip, and I would respond in like, with a note. Although I'd skip the anonymity for all of our sakes. It would read as such:


"Dear Terry-Lynn**,

I received your message re: my nail lengths. And I'm so glad you wrote, honestly, I really am, because I have been wanting to tell you that your hair is dead. You should cut it, and stop dying it that bleach yellow, it's killing your hair, and the last 4 inches of it are showing serious distress. This has been annoying me for quite some time, but until I received your note, I was unaware that items of personal hygiene were within the public realm of office discussion. Thanks again!

KateKavanaugh

P.S. Here's my hair dressers phone number (XXX) XXX-XXXX
P.P.S.: Pants with flames up the hem on Casual Friday...really?***


**I feel that the name Terry-Lynn would be appropriate for such a coworker
*** Once I actually went to a job interview, and the receptionist was wearing jeans with flames up the side on casual Fridays. It was for a mega international company, and my interviewer actually felt compelled to tell me that this was not normal... and to not be confused by her casual dress... I suppose my $500 black suit didn't do my work appropriate fashion sense justice?


Anyways, I have to run... I'm off to visit a religious pilgrimages site. I have varied interests, what can I say?


KK.

Conversational Politics

You know what has always kind of chapped my ass? When people say that religion and politics are subjects to be avoided in social conversations (i.e. Date's or dinner parties). I don't understand this... and perhaps it's because I'm the only girl I know that loves her shoes and politics equally... and I do loves me my shoes, but really, why not? These are some intensely interesting subjects. No?
On a date, for instance. I'm not really all that concerned with what your favourite color is.... or what your 5 year plan is...well at least not on the first 4 dates, which about as far as I ever let anything get with a date anyways. Why shouldn't I ask the hard hitting questions, and really get to know someone, instead of trying to figure out if having the favourite color of blue makes someone calm and serene or emotional or flakey. "So, who are you rooting for in the next American election?" .......umm hello! The answer, and the explanation of said answer is highly important. I don't really care if it's the same as my answer or for the same reasons.
I care that it's not a stupid answer.
Look at how much you can learn from someone just by their answers. Let's say they say: "I'm voting for Barack because I think it's time to see a minority in the white house."
Then you know that they're stupid and you can walk away without feeling any guilt.
I suppose I should clarify this point. I do agree that it's time to see a minority in the white house, however I don't believe that should be the sole merit on which someone is voted in. I believe that it's time to have all citizens have equal opportunity to education and the political system requirements, and that they be judged on their merit, rather than thier skin color or gender. Unfortunately, saying that they should be in the white house because someone is a minority, is just as bad for equality, even equity in the long sighted version, as it is to say that they shouldn't be able to run. (Don't even get me started on what Obama HASN'T done for the equalization of socioeconomic disadvantage in minority populations).

Therefore, they're stupid, and you can walk away.

If they say... I'm voting for john McCain because he was a POW for 7 years and I think that we are in the middle of a war and I think military experience is important in the head of the largest military in the world...

Then.... THEN you might actually have an interesting conversation over your bigmac and slurpy (I'm so joking... my dates do not take me to McDonalds. Spaghetti factory or bust).

And I'm not saying this because I'm a republican. Because I'm not. I'm a HUGE Democrat. Well, I would be if i lived and voted in the United States, but since I'm Canadian, I'm a liberal...a card carrying liberal (sorry Dad). However, American politics effect us as much as Americans, and I'm pretty sure, sad but true, that more Canadians know the names of Obama and McCain than they do the leader of our official opposition.... it's Dion (as in Celiene... but it's not her.. he just has her name), in case you were wondering.

So there you have it, a great debate, and a chance to see how smart and socially aware your date is, while showing him your side of the coin. I love it.

And if you're really into pushing the envelope on a first date, as I am, try to combine religion AND politics. It's really not that hard.
If you're American: "So, how do you feel about the fact that we condemn other nations for their use of religion in government, when our current president is evoking Christianity as a reason for terminating stem cell research?"

If you're Canadian, because we're not perfect as much as I'd really like to believe it: "So, how do you feel about our current Prime Minister, Stephen Harper, saying that Gay Marriage would mock the institution of marriage so much that eventually we would legalize Polygamy which would lead to bestiality, and someone attempting to marry their cow or dog?"

ya... it happened. I'm not big on the whole Polygamy thing, and we will talk about that in another post, but I don't see how marrying multiple humans would induce someone to marry their dog..."

I am big on the whole gay marriage thing... equal rights!

I should stop now.

KK.

The boy my mom likes

Being a single girl, have you ever had your mother call you up in a frenzy and say "I just met the perfect guy for you!!"

Yes.. of course you have, because that's normal.

Not my mom... Noooo. My mom sends me an email that says:


"Kate... I just met my future son in law........picture is enclosed."


At this point, I'm thinking: Oh jesus mom, not another one. Her last attempted set up was highly ridiculous, but another story altogether. So, with no dread at all, I open the picture. The problem has never been their looks... she's got herself some good taste in that area. The problem is.............they're all slightly brain dead.

I open his picture.

He's beautiful. He's the kind of guy that you think about paying to be your date to a high school reunion.

Naturally, I look him up on facebook. Facebook picture...equally gorgeous. So, naturally I give the go ahead. I mean, when you see a man of this beauty, it's hard to think about the ramifications... like the fact that he's already met your mother. And the awkwardness of being on a date with someone that your mother chose. To add to it, his mother and my mother are friends. awkward.......


Anyway, I forego all of that, and subject her to daily questions about if she's talked to his mom yet. Knowing full well that she hasn't because they only see eachother once a week. But the last time my mom wanted to set me up with a guy it took me 2 years to meet him and it was a total let down and he was kind of a loser. A really cool loser, but a loser none the less.

Anyways, so we decide that we need a plan. Yes, plotting and scheming is a family trait. And this is the one I came up with... tell me if you like it:

"Hey Jan**, So, you've met my daughter Kate, right? Well she's writing an article about being a single girl in the city and the set ups she goes on, and she's letting me set her up for the article. I immediately thought of your son. Think he'd be interested?"

Check it out: Pro's: if he has a girlfriend, there's no rejection.
if he's just not into random mom set ups... no rejection
if the date goes god awful...... no rejections on his or my part.

Con's: if the date goes well, and he asks to see the article or asks for whom I am writing the article... I'm F***ed because it is, in fact a lie and I'm pretty sure that this blog doesn't count as a publication for which field research is needed. Awkward.


Thoughts?

KK.

Me.

Let me just tell you a bit about myself. I'm attempting, poorly albeit, to write a book. Why? Because I'm foolish. I write this little sorority newsletter that goes out to a few hundred Canadian ladies every month, and after about the 50th time of being told that I should be a writer, I decided...well why the hell not. So, I'm trying my hand at it. But then again, which blogger isn't trying their hand at writing.
So I've started this blog so that I can get daily rantings and musings off of my chest so that I can infact, focus on the plot of my story.... (read: PROCRASTINATION TOOL #1)

I am Canadian, however, I'm living in Europe at the moment. After graduation, I took a total crap paying job that would enable me to see a part of the world... and that's what I'm doing and why I'm doing it. Eventually though, my escapades will come to an end and I will return to the real world: that date is September 30th.

I'm trying to figure out if I should let my real life friends know that I have a blog... doesn't that produce personal censorship? Like I can't tell you about how I really think a friend is being a jerk if I know that they are tuning in every few minutes. But then I lose that oh so important self fulfillment of showing my friends how great I am and being praised for it. I do NOT know what to do.

In other news, I'm running for the cure (breast cancer) ....Care to sponsor me? Probably not, but it's worth the plug, no?

Here:

https://www.cibcrunforthecure.com/html/welcome.asp

Do it for the fun of it.


And while I may post random excerpts from my book on here, I will not be giving a detailed explanation of it.........sorry.


Talk to you soon.
KK.