17+ Years of Catholic Education Got Me Here

This turned into a bit of a rant but those volunteers from planned parenthood, feed the children, epa, greenpeace, africa has hungry kids who knew?, drive me insane. All they do is harass you on the street to sponsor a sick kid. Gawd they are just the worst. I know that they're just trying to save lives and build hospitals around the world and I recognize that that's noble and beautiful and blah, blah, blah, so stop shaking your head at me, But really, they're the worst. And here's why:

First of all, they strategic! Every morning when I leave the gym I encounter the "sweatshirt mafia" right by the starbucks. Luckily I've had enough run-ins to know how they work:
 

1.) They work in pairs and are staggered down the street. That way when you see one and veer towards the other side of the sidewalk to miss them, you run directly into another

2.) They're engaging. They don't start off by directly asking for money. They first ask about you and make eye contact. Normally they'll start by innocently asking how you are or ask if you are having a good day. And the thing is, they seem to genuinely care about the answer, which I always accidentally appreciate. Seriously, it always gets me. Like I always feel rude if I just ignore someone. BUT DON'T FALL FOR IT! YOU CAN'T ANSWER! DO NOT PASS GO AND COLLECT 500! Because then they've got you. You might as well just punch yourself in the heart, give them your wallet and checking account number and walk away. Because people are sick and if you give them an inch, they'll take a mile. You think you're having an innocent conversation about yourself with an attractive sweatshirt or vest individual and all of a sudden you're sponsoring a kid in Africa for $30 a month—which is only a dollar a day when you really think about it, HAHAH
3.) They're attractive. This increases the odds that you'll answer when they ask how you are. I've fallen for this before and it isn't pretty. one time I was walking to get coffee at work when I locked eyes with an attractive individual. He gave me a full blown smile and said "Hey, what are you up to?" And I responded "Just gettin' coffee." When he volunteer-tsuanmied me with "Well what if instead of buying an overpriced cup of coffee every day, you decided to make a difference in the life of—" WTF! He was wearing the sweatshirt under his northface jacket, so sneaky!! I pushed him out of the way, picked up the pieces of my heart and got myself a delicious venti cafe misto at Starbucks.
4.) They are crazy!! Whatever strategy you normally use to deflect the usual solicitors in the street won't do a  thing to stop these crazies. Listening to music on your i-pod? They'll shout. Not making eye contact? They'll get up in your personal space and make sure you see them. Got a "don't mess with me," look on your face? Yea. They'll mess with you. Trust me. 

I know this post makes me seem like a jerk but here's the thing I do help people. My friends will be the first ones to tell you that I am always giving money out to homeless people, I donate clothes regularly, give blood every 6 weeks, and doing reading tutoring for kids, but I just don't want to give my credit card information to these weirdos!
 

It's not that I don't want to believe in some of the stuff these volunteers do. I do. I really do. It's just that I don't have the means. Despite this fabulous lifestyle I lead of wearing Target and buy no brand toilet paper, I don't actually have a lot of disposable income. So I don't appreciate you making me feel like a soulless jerk for not wanting to give you my credit card information on the streets of DC. I've got bigger things on my mind, thank you. Like my rent. So I'm sorry but I really would like to keep the heat on so I think I'm going to go keep the $30 a month, if that's okay with you.

When I worked in Chinatown I saw these Planned Parenthood mafia volunteers outside the metro all the time. And here's the thing I don't care what organization you work for, I hate all of them equally, so I'm very open. But these people were the WORST. They would start harassing me the second I got off the metro. and you know what? 8:15am on a Monday morning is not the time to ask me for money. I don't know about you, but the morning for me is just a big one-woman battle to get to work on time.  I got a Woman in Tennis Shoes standing on the left side of the escalator so I can't keep walking, or I have someone lighting up a cigarette in my face on the escalator or I have a woman walking behind me who keeps ramming her baby stroller into my ankles. At this point, my #1 priority is to keep myself from breaking an ankle.

Given that information, maybe it's not the best idea to get all up in my face and ask, "Got a minute?" because, guess what ? I don't. So I'm going to look away and keep walking. And after I do, don't just laugh it off and say, "Welp, I guess someones in a hurry! I'll catch you later!" ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Yes jerk! I am in a hurry! It's 827 on a Monday morning! I'm not taking an early morning stroll! I'm in a hurry and I have to get to work, I'm sorry! Maybe we can rap about Malaria and what horrible person I am some other time.

After dealing with this for 6 months I came up with a fool proof strategy for dealing with any of these people. Whenever any of them try to talk to me I just say "Sorry, I already donated/signed up/gave blood. etc:  Don't even make it a full sentence like, "Oh, I'm sorry, I've already donated" Just say it quick and forcefully. "ALREADY DID." Ever since I have implemented that my morning commutes became a lot easier.

BTW: I got a job offer last week and start next Tuesday! Which is perfect since ya know i got denied unemployment (grrr) and my last severance check gets cashed today. The best part about this is that I will be working for normal people and not for my old ceo who once called himself the "steve jobs of our industry" with a straight face.

My Friends are Cooler Then Your Friends

I spent the weekend at the University of Michigan or what I should really say is that the Rockford Peaches spent the weekend in Michigan. Hands down we had the best costume and I learned that my friend Betsy is a professional baseball player! :)

If you have never seen the fantastic movie a league of their own, you don't know what you are missing:

The Gift of Anxiety

Today I heard a young girl around the age of 10 call her mother a B**** and then told her to F*** Off.

I'm not going to lie I had to stop in my tracks. I can't even  begin to imagine what would happen if I had EVER and I mean EVER said those words in front of my parents or even dared to call my mom or dad a B****. Just writing mom and dad near the word B**** scares me and makes me suffer ptsd flashbacks. I'm afraid that somewhere back in St. Louis, MO my parents just felt a little alarm go off inside of them that says "kelly is calling your names." I can see them shaking their heads at me and giving me the look. And you know that look. Every parent has it. It has the power to stop a kid in their tracks. I'm almost 25 years old and I'm still scared of the look. Heck, I still call my parents "sir" or "mam'

In the the fantastic book "Bossy-Pants" by my idol Tina Fey she writes a poem about her daughter. My favorite line in it is the following: Read the rest of it here!

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, 

Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, 

        For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it


While this book came out way after I was born (which btw was 11/17/1986 for those keeping track) I feel that this is something my mother  implemented on the day I was born and the doctor turned to my parents and said "While she is a big one, It's a girl!" Because let's be honest girls can be moody, dramatic and a pain. My parents claim I went through a phase of rolling my eyes at everything they say (I do not remember this at all btw, I only remember being perfect and having to wait until I was 17 to get a dog). But you know what I never ever called my mom a bitch in front of ANY store. If I had not only would she had dragged my pre-teen ass home so fast my head would be spinning faster then the speed of light but I would have been buried in the backyard. And I would not be writing this wonderful blog to you today.

I'm not saying that children should live in fear of their parents but on some level kids should experience anxiety when it comes to their parents. I like to call it "The Gift of Anxiety."  I really do think it is a gift.  If I ever have kids I do wonder, how in the world can I give them what my parents gave me. That anxiety feeling. The fear of getting in trouble. Knowing that while you are loved you aren't above any law and rules must be followed. As a kid I sat through DARE and all kinds of anti-peer pressure classes but you know what really enabled me to say no to drinking/smoking/drugs at a party? My parents. Some dude could be offering me anything and all I would see were my parents with their arms crossed shaking their heads at me. Or as the wonderful Tina Fey says:

When the Crystal Meth is offered, 

       May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half

I didn't really care if my grapes were cut in half or not but my mom did peel all of my apples, drove me to an obscene amount of after school activities, and is personally the reason why I didn't wear a dress with sleeves to any high school dances. And my dad spent many a weekend coaching me in basketball or sleeping in a tent on an Indian Princess Camp-out and still goes out and gets me Starbucks Coffee (Americano 4 splenda) when I am home even though we have a perfectly good coffee maker.

In short I didn't need this:
 

I had this: 

After hearing that girl call her mother a b**** I knew that she didn't have the Parental Anxiety System and I'm pretty sure I'll see her on some reality show in 10 years.

I realize that anyone who reads this may think my parents are drill sergeants which is so far from the truth.  Sue and Dan are awesome. And if I ever make any money off of this writing thing, they will get major shout outs in my book.

Toto and Jay-Z!? I'm happy to be alive

I wish I had the cabbie's number who drove me around DC playing "Africa." I feel like he would really appreciate this.

Friends, Wine, and Sun=What I did all Weekend

We had the best spread out of everyone there. I contributed the candy bag. When we got to the grocery store to get supplies I was distracted by the mixed candy aisle.

Myself and two of my friends spent the weekend in Stanton, VA. It is about 2.5 hours away from DC and might as well be a different planet. We spend the weekend sitting outside in vineyards drinking many bottles of wine, eating, talking, and then watching the sunset. Life is Good. Especially when you are lucky enough to be surrounded by great people. I'm very lucky,

My Addiction to Intervention

On Monday night I was en route to the meet someone for dinner in Woodley Park and I got stuck walking behind a group of brotastic-looking guys.  It was one of those awkward situations where you're awkwardly walking at the same rate as the group in front of you, so you begin to feel like a stalker. But if you speed up and pass them you know you won't be able to keep your new speed up and you're just going to end up either causing a traffic jam or you will have to fall back behind them and appear even creepier. Am I the only one this has happened to? It happens to me a lot because a lot of people in DC are incapable of realizing that other people walk on the sidewalk. So instead they spread out in a huge group taking over the sidewalk and if it is raining forget it. Nobody in DC knows how to walk in public with an umbrella. When it rains here and I'm walking outside I have to dive, cut, drop, and roll so much it looks like I am doing the electric slide. yes? No? Only me? Ok.  Anyway, I couldn't help but overhear the conversation they were having about the tv show "Intervention."

Now Intervention is a total guilty pleasure of mine and just so you know all of the episodes are available on Netlix streaming. And since I am unemployed nothing makes me feel better then watching an episode of intervention because at the end of the episode at least I can think "well I may not have a job but I'm not drinking mouthwash to get drunk or running around my house naked and throwing ramen noodles at my sister while high on meth." 


I first started watching intervention with my friend Katie. I'm not going to lie when I reflect back on those summer nights of us sitting in her parents basement drinking a bottle of wine and betting what letter was going to make the person go to rehab, I get happy.


Back to me awkwardly stalking the bro boys on the sidewalk. Out of nowhere they start talking about Intervention when one of the guys goes :I get sad when an addict on Intervention says they'll go to treatment after listening to just one person's letter.

My heart stopped because you know what I totally agree! He then went on to say "I mean DUDE it's like Your entire family wrote you a letter! Aren't you at least curious to hear what everyone else has to say? I feel like if I had an intervention, my Dad would be the one to get me to go to treatment. If he cried while reading a letter, I'd go anywere That being said, I'd still want to hear what everyone else has to say"  

Meanwhile, I was walking behind them thinking "OMG me to! I totally agree!" See Intervention is broken up into two parts. The first 30 minutes you follow the addict around while they do their thing and family member talks about why this person started doing drugs, etc. Then the next half is the surprise! it's your intervention time! And I can always tell if the person is going to rehab or not by the time when they start the intervention. See if we are only halfway through the episode and already starting the intervention, I know it's going to be a good one. People are going to yell, cry, and everyone gets to read their letters! But if the intervention starts at ten to the hour, I'm like psh forget it, this chick is going as soon as your weird looking third cousin reads the letter all Sniff, sniff "you and your addiction have effected me in the following ways- You never want to go to tanning with me any more because you're always tired!" and then the meth/crack/heroin head is like "OH MY GOD! I'LL GO! I'M SO SORRY!!!!!!" And it's annoying because you just know  that mom's letter was going to be so much better than that and now we'll never know what it said. 

So while all of this is going on and the guy is explaining himself he finally ends the conversation with  "Interventions like that ruin my entire week. God, addiction really is a selfish disease."

And I may or may not have fallen in love with him.

 Finally we parted ways but later on that night I was extremely tempted to write a Craigslist missed connection but decided not to when I realized it would essentially be: "YOU WERE THE GUY TALKING ABOUT INTERVENTION LETTERS BY THE DUNKIN DONUTS ON 14th and U STREET NW. YOU MENTIONED THAT YOU COULD NEVER DO DRUGS THAT INVOLVED NEEDLES. I WAS THE BRUNETTE GIRL BEHIND YOU WHO DIDN'T HAVE THE STAMINA TO WALK SLIGHTLY FASTER AND PASS YOU. WAS IT JUST ME, OR DID I FEEL A CONNECTION?!?!"  The one that got away..

See just spend 3 minutes watching this video and you will see why I love Intervention. I literally had no idea you could get high huffing computer duster until this Intervention. Stuff like this makes me never want to have kids and makes me feel like it's amazing that I made it to the age of 25 without realizing that people actually do huff outside of 7th Heaven Episodes

When Streaking is Considered Making a Statement Don't Be Surprised When No One Takes You Seriously

"Among the ideas floated among group members online: A massive rally, pitching tents around Busch Stadium or sending a streaker onto the field during the game “to send  a message.”

Once again these people have no idea how to actually get a message across. One time I went to a football game in high school and a guy streaked across the field. He was 17 and did it as a dare. But you know what even if he had been doing it for "world peace" or whatever no one would have cared.

http://stlouis.cbslocal.com/2011/10/18/police-worry-as-wall-street-protestors-pine-for-world-series-spotlight/

I think my little brother said it best:

"This is not protesting, this is not sending a message, this is camping, our generation sucks at protesting"

Boo-Yah!

Exactly one month from today I will be 25 years old. Just writing that sentence makes me have a panic attack. I remember turning 16 and I can't wrap my head around the fact that it has been 9 years since then!

In other news, I play in a Sunday soccer league called District Sports. It's co-ed so of course on every team that we seem to play there is always some guy who never got to play Division 1 soccer in college and is still living in his high school glory days and he takes this out on everyone by being a jerk.  This of course happened on Sunday.

First I need to preface this story by saying yes, I am still unemployed. I've somewhat managed to not walk around all day with a panic look on my face but instead I just think about it all the time for example:

At the grocery store in the self check out line:
Me: Oh, it's not crowded at all today! Wait that is because it is 1030am and everyone is at work. Which is where I would be but I am unemployed.

On the metro:
Me: Oh that guy looks nice in his suit I bet he is coming back from his job. J-O-B which I don't have.

At the bar:
Me: Mm this drink is good, wow that guy is not a bad dancer, that girl is not wearing pants, leggings aren't pants. Wait I bet they both have jobs, I am unemployed.

Waking up in the middle of the night to get water:
Me: hmm wow it's late I need to get back to bed. WAIT I guess it doesn't matter because I am unemployed.

So you get the idea, it's been on my mind a lot. It doesn't matter where I am or what I am doing it's always there. So fast forward to this Sunday.

This team was pretty good and were actually undefeated (until yesterday). The Tool as I shall call him was playing forward and I was playing defense. Within 5 minutes I could tell he was a tool. First of all he had a Chinese Character tattoo wrapped around his arm. Secondhe literally ran over a girl on our team hurt her and then got mad when the ref called a foul and he kicked the ball out of bounds. Then I was going up for a head  ball and he jumped on top of me. When we got up I looked at him and he went "Oh, I'm not sorry you got in my way."

It was this point that I threw down the gauntlet Hoffman style and thought to myself :YOU SHALL NOT PASS.

Because here is the thing soccer is a contact sport I get it but there is no need to try to hurt people at Sunday low key game.

After his non apology I turned around and saw my goalie and sweeper laughing. I looked at them and the goalie went: Oh man, you are going to get that guy. It is going to be great.

And I did. Oh I got him good.

I played club soccer for a long time and one of my most colorful coaches was a German man. When he would get really mad at us he would just start screaming in German. We quickly learned that the less English he was speaking the more trouble we were in.

My German coach was really into teaching us how to defeat our opponents mentally. For example before every game he would give us a riddle like: "A man wakes up naked in a field with one shoe. How did he get there?" We would stare blankly at him, and then he would say: "Now girls that is what you must do to the other team."


What I really remember is him saying that no matter how much better another player or team maybe you can always beat them if you can get into their heads and get them frustrated. This meant smiling, staring at them in the eyes, and basically jogging in place in circles around them until they went crazy and began making mistakes.

Besides teaching 13 year old girls how to rage mental war-fare on each other, I think he had a good point. Once someone begins getting frustrated the game is over.

So yesterday at the game I employed those tactics on the Tool. I never stopped moving. I ran in circles around this guy. At one point he looked at me and went: "whatever you are doing it isn't going to work, I can always beat a girl." Clearly he didn't realize he was dealing with a Hoffman.

And then I knocked him down when he got the ball.
And when we sprinted to a ball I beat him every single time.
When he would get the ball and try to go all Pele on me forgetting he was white and had a frat boy beer belly, I'd just calmly reach in there and pick the ball.

Just wash, rinse, and repeat these steps over and over.

My team loved it the entire time. Especially when at one point I began to do jump n jacks next to me and said: It is such a pretty day out isn't it!

And as the game went on he got more and more frustrated. He began to scream whenever I would get the ball from him and stamp his feet like a child. He got more tired and started wheezing. I started to feel a little bad for belittling him when out of nowhere he got mad and stepped on our goalie when the goalie clearly had the ball.

So the next time someone passed him the ball I gave him quite the hip check. Because you know what us ladies were given birthing hips for a reason and lord knows I'm not using them to dance or  give birth, but I can use them to push over angry men on a soccer field. So I hip checked him, he went flying face down and started rolling around and punching the ground. I looked at him and said "well whatever you are doing isn't working because I am a girl and I am beating you."

What goes around comes around! Justin Timberlake said it. Therefore it is true.

The best part was at the end when he and I were sprinting down for a loose ball, at this point we were up 4-0 so even if he had scored it wouldn't have been a big deal, but like what my old German soccer coach used to say "the game isn't over until you've mentally exhausted the other team and they want to go home and cry."

At the last second I realized that we were running very close to the fence and if we weren't careful we were going to slam into it. Luckily I managed to out run him (sniff, Hoffman running genes, my Dad was a track champ in high school, NBD). and got the ball. He however lacked the ability to stop and slammed into the fence.

Then the ref blew the whistle. And my team celebrated our victory.

And I did what I like to call my Boo-Yah Dance. It's amazing that is all I am going to say. If you ever do see it consider yourself lucky. It's like me lip-singing to Celine Dion's "It's all coming back to me now" It doesn't happen often but when it does it's entertaining.

Alright you got me. It basically looks like this:

Besides making this guy rethink all of his life choices the best part of the game I didn't realize until I was walking home. All of a sudden it hit me that for the first time since I have been laid off I wasn't thinking about the fact that I was unemployed. For exactly one hour I was focused on something else and it felt great.

I think my coach was on to something. Because the "opponent' doesn't even have to be another team. It can be yourself. And if you get frustrated or flustered you are going to start making mistakes and doubting yourself.

So what I learned from all of this is: Guys with Chinese character tattoos shouldn't be trusted, All 13 year old girls should be taught to carefully harness the power of mental warfare, Yes I am almost 25 years old and I have a Boo-Yah dance.

Job Search Update! After my week of interviews last week I have one new one this week and a second round for a job I would love to get this Friday. Fingers crossed!

Also I never did figure out what the answer to the "Naked man wakes up in a field" riddle. 

Netflix Streaming Musings

So last night my roommate and I drank a bottle of wine at a trivia night. And our team got second place! Of course we didn't contribute to it at all, I literally answered one question and it was a pop culture question. But hey we were on the team so it counts. Anyways by the time we got back to the apartment I was riding high on our victory and couldn't sleep. So I curled up on the couch and powered up my laptop. That's when I saw that Charlotte's Web was on Netflix and thought, "Oh, I used to watch that movie everyday when I was a child! It must be comforting! I loved that book as a kid to! I'll watch that!" 

MISTAKE! MISTAKE! BIG MISTAKE!!!

I cried you guys. I cried watching Charlotte's Web. I'm pretty sure I know why I had this reaction to the movie, though: Charlotte's Web did a number on me this year because the whole movie is about losing friends. I mean, I have friends, that's not the problem, it's just that they're all leaving DC like they are trying to catch the last chopper out of Vietnam. And while I know this is a result of living in a city like D.C. where everyone has their eye on the door or next way out of here, I'm still left with all of these emotions about my friends moving on and settling down and I am ultimately afraid that everyone is going to leave and forget me. YOU KNOW, LIKE CHARLOTTE'S BABIES DID TO WILBUR. 


I honestly don't think this movie is appropriate for children (and 25-year-olds with a bottle of wine and emotions.) It's about people creating emotional dependencies on other people and then having those relationships ripped away from them. Except by people, I mean pigs and spiders. And death! So much of the movie is about death! The only reason Wilbur and Charlotte meet in the first place is because they're about to kill Wilbur and he's literally weeping for someone to save his life! How terrible is that! I can't believe I read that book as a child and that my parents let me watch this movie! So Charlotte does save him—only to die herself! But it's OK, she has babies to keep Wilbur company—except they're like, peace out Wilbur, I do what I want! and they all leave! I mean my god look at these quotes:

Charlotte: You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die.

That line is so emo I can't even stand it.

Ram: Sheep do not play with pigs.
Wilbur: Why not?
Ram: Oh, it's a matter of status. Sheep, for instance, are highly regarded by Zuckerman, because we furnish him with good quality wool. With pigs, on the other hand, it's just a matter of time.
Wilbur: Time to what?
Ram: Till you're fat enough to kill.
Wilbur: What did you say?
Ram: Oh, everybody knows it. In the fall, you'll be turned into smoked bacon and ham. Just as soon as cold weather sets in, they'll kill you.

Terrifying!  

 

[a fly lands in Charlotte's web]
Charlotte: Just a minute, Wilbur.
[she climbs up and wraps the fly]
Charlotte: He'll make a perfect breakfast for me.
Wilbur: [shuddering] Ooooh. You mean you eat flies?
Charlotte: Why, certainly. I eat anything that gets caught in my web. I have to live, don't I?
Wilbur: [nervously] Why, yes, of course. Do they taste good?
Charlotte: Delicious.
Wilbur: LECCH!
Charlotte: Course, I don't really *eat* them, I drink their blood. I love blood. 

Charlotte: The autumn days grow short and cold; / It's Christmas time again. / Then snows of winter slowly melt. / The day grows short, / And then... / He turns the seasons around, / And so she changes... her gown: / Mother Earth... and Father Time. How very special are we... / For just a moment... to be... / Part of life's... eternal... rhyme.
[passes away]

AHHHHHHHHHHH. Emotionally scarring. 

Charlotte: I'm done for. In a day or two I'll be dead. I haven't strength enough to climb into the crate. I doubt if there is enough silk in my spinnerets to lower me to the ground.
Wilbur: Charlotte! No, Charlotte! My true friend.
Oh my god...


Wilbur: Then write this in your webs, when you learn: This hallowed doorway was once the home of Charlotte. She was brilliant, beautiful, and loyal to the end. Her memory will be treasured forever.
Charlotte's daughters: Ooh, that would take us a lifetime.
Wilbur: A lifetime. That's what we have.
I just can't. NO WORDS LEFT.

Wilbur: No. Please don't go. I'll be all alone. Your mother wouldn't want that to happen, I'm sure. Please don't go.
Narrator: Soon the sky was filled with baby spiders, floating away on the wind. Wilbur sank to the ground, crying, his heart broken once more.

I mean, I'm tearing up right now as I type this.

But this is the one that got me:
Narrator: Wilbur never forgot Charlotte. Although he loved her children and grandchildren dearly, none of the new spiders quite took her place in his heart. She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend.

TEARS. TEARS. Here's the thing, normally I am not a gushy person. But after that line I literally had to sit on my phone to stop me from calling up some of my friends to be like:
"YOU ARE A TRUE FRIEND! YOU'RE MY CHARLOTTE!"
 
I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I used to like this depressing movie as a kid. Growing up I used to sleep with an ET doll. 

I mean just look at that thing. What about that screams "I am comforting and a good cuddle buddy!" Nothing does. It's actually extremely creepy. I slept with that thing every night until my mom gave it away to some church charity event. I'm sure whatever kid ended up with it was probably like "Gee thanks,  I wonder who hates me."


The more I reflect on my childhood the more I realize that I was a weird kid.


And I'm not going to lie after watching Charlotte's web I had a huge craving for bacon.

Being Right Means Never Having to Say I'm Sorry

Yesterday morning, I came as close to killing another human being as I ever have in my brief almost 25 years of life. After my afternoon interview I ran into the CVS to grab some gatorade. It was pouring rain outside and I had on a suit/skirt because of the interview but I was still in a great mood.

My great mood was short-lived, however, as there was a woman —approximately 5'6", maybe in her 30s, black hair, headband—standing directly in front of the refrigerator with the Gatorade in it. Her stuff and child were everywhere.  Her child was screaming and running up and down the aisle and her purse, gym bag, stroller, toys, and her CVS basket were on the floor and she was digging through her wallet, clearly looking for something. "Excuse me," I asked her politely, motioning towards the refrigerator. 

"Uggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she sighed as she rolled her eyes and moved her body   about half an inch so I could pass. Which is irritating in and of itself, but not "Voluntary Manslaughter Need to Call My Parents for Bail Money and my Cousin who is a Lawyer" irritating. I went into the fridge, got my Gatorade, turned around and immediately tripped on her purse. And I fell face first into a display of Doritos.  When I looked around I saw that my knee was bleeding and I had scrapped my shin.

After I pulled myself up, my eyes turned red, my Irish blood began boiling and I felt my fangs descend. I turned around and looked at this Chick directly in the eyes. "Oh." she said, as if I had just told her that the store was closing at 9pm. Now, normally in moments like these I get so fluster that I end up saying "OMG I am so so sorry" But you know what? In this instance I was not sorry. I no longer have a job and don't go into work everyday so I'm all about the little victories and righting justice. So instead I kept staring at this lady who kept looking at me like she expected me to be like "I'm actually the one who's sorry! I'm sorry that my human body got in the way of your stuff. And I'm also sorry for not realizing that CVS is your house! OH, pardon me! Now if you don't mind, I'm just going to go into "your" fridge and grab a few of "your" Gatorade and then pass your annoying child."

Of course I was so overcome with rage that I couldn't think of a single thing to say and just stared at her for an uncomfortable length of time before awkwardly shouting "JESUS CHRIST!" and running away. Naturally I spent the rest of the day thinking of things I should have said, which is irritating. So if you or a friend know a lady who was at the Columbia Heights CVS around 4pm yesterday you are incredibly lucky to have your life right now. And I want an apology.

Phone Interviews are Tiring

First of all I had 3 phone interviews today so I apologize for the short post. It's just that I am so totally tired of talking about myself and summing up my resume/my past 6.5 years in DC. 

So my severance pay ends at the end of this month so I've been looking at ways to cut costs in my life. I live in DC which isn't the cheapest place around and some things are just necessary (coffee is one of those things I'm sorry. I know every person is probably like well stop paying for coffee but hey I don't smoke or do crack so I think I'm allowed to get coffee. Besides I've started going to Dunkin Donuts which is cheaper) Below are some of the things I've done that have helped me save some cash.

My kind relatives: My cousin Colleen just called me. Apparently I had left my sunglasses in her room during her wedding and she mailed them back to me like a week ago. During our conversation she was like "so have you used the chipotle and starbucks gift card yet?" I had no idea what she was talking about until she informed me that they had been in the box that she had sent the sunglasses in and apparently I had just totally missed them. Now coffee and burritos are two things that make me happy. And with the end of my severance pay on the horizon and with the cost of peanut butter going up I need to watch my funds. Therefore if you add the word free into the front of those two words, I begin to do a tap of glee. So I tore apart my room, found the box and then the giftcards! That's a win for Kelly! It's a good thing I never throw anything away.  A burrito from Chipotle is like two meals!

Cab Drivers: I don’t know what it is, but cab drivers love me, and  most of the time I love them. I can’t even begin to recount the number of meaningful heart-to-hearts I’ve had with cab drivers. Why pay a therapist something like $300 a session and have most of the session be spent with me awkwardly looking around the office desperately trying to think of something to talk about. However get me in the back of a cab and I open up like I’ve just taken a truth serum (Harry Potter Shout -Out!). I think part of it is I feel uncomfortable sitting in the back of a cab with the driver up front, it is a little to much like "Driving Miss Daisy for Me." So the second I sit in the back of the cab, I start rambling "Hey! How is your night going?" and the conversation just takes off from there. Some of the times it ends with driver telling me about his nephew who really wants to come to the states and is looking for a  nice wife just like me which is when I just start nodding and smiling. But most of the time I end up having a really good conversation. A lot of the cab drivers in DC are from Ethiopia and have some great stories.   

The first weekend after I got laid off I was pretty busy having a pity party for one. But my friend Alli invited me to go out so I went and I'm glad I did. I ended up cabbing it home that night because the bar we were at wasn't near a metro station and I pretty much got the best cabbie EVER. He was from Ethiopia and when I sat in the cab he asked me how my night was going and I just started word vomiting out my life story like this was Taxi Cab confessions. After telling him that I had been laid off and was never  going to find a job, he paused held up one hand and said "What will happen will happen. Just enjoy the now" I can't even explain to you why that hit the spot. He then told me that he had just the song for me. He then plugged in his iPod to the stereo, rolled down all of the windows, and blasted Toto's "Africa". And began to sing along forcing me to as well. I'm not going to lie it was one of the best times I've had this fall. Nothing like driving around downtown DC at 2am with the windows rolled down screaming " I bless the rains down in Africa." When I got of the cab the driver told me to "take care and that it will all work out" I don’t know why I adopt this open-book persona with cabbies, but I appreciate our time together. It’s less expensive than therapy and pine-scented. And they don't care if you have insurance or not so there is no co-pay (other then the cab fee)

The Dunkin Donuts cashier: I don’t mean for things to take a weird turn here, but the kid who makes my morning cafe misto at Dunkin Donuts is a-freaking-dorable and I want to thank him for brightening my day. Since the majority of my day is spent staring at a computer screen applying for jobs I appreciate any form of human interaction I can get.  He is super short, Indian (I think), and barely speaks English. But he recognizes me and gives me free donut holes, big smiles and the other day I got a free coffee. He went to hand it to me and I was like oh thanks how much? And he went: "No it's free, it's on me today" and then wiggled his eyebrows. I accepted the coffee so depending on his culture I may or may not be engaged to him right now. But any man who can keep me in carbs and caffeine is a good one. 

Instead of fighting over health-care reform I think everyone just needs to watch this video. 

Dear Kelly, thank you for your interest in our company. But it isn't you it's us.

So in the past 3 days I've had two interviews (one phone and one in person) and I have another one this Wednesday. However as a wise man once said "eventually  the HR department at one of the places you applied for will get around to  sending you a "personal" rejection email. And that happened today! After opening my 4th rejection email in one day I started to realize that I must be special. For previous job applications, it had taken at least a couple of weeks for the company’s HR department to respond/reject me. This time around, it took just one week for all of my applications to be deemed unworthy. I can only hypothesize the reasons for such quick dismissal.

1. Reason for Rejection 1: Not enough experience. The job description asked for 3-5 years of experience in marketing and/or sales. I have 2.5 years of experience. And one of the few lessons I remember from math class is "rounding up," therefore I think I can say I have 3 years. Apparently they disagree. Oh the 3 years also doesn't count the 4 years of unpaid internships I did all through college.  Also while I have 2.5 years of work experience almost 2 years of that was working on the Hill, so not really marketing. But my theory was I spent my days selling my congressmen's images and thoughts. I figured I could demonstrate my innate marketing talents by positioning myself as an ideal candidate. If I can convince a congressman not to sponsor a bill that means putting Reagan on the 50 dollar bill JUST imagine what I could do for your multi-billion dollar company.
2. Reason for Rejection 2: I'm not a minority, hispanic, or a veteran. I went through this entire application and then at the end it said "minority candidates preferred" Which welp, I'm not. This has been a common theme in my job search process. In every single job application I fill out the end is always the same.There is this "optional" survey that asks what race you are. Sadly, I am pretty much one of the whitest people around. I'm 50 percent Irish and 50 percent German. My middle name is Marie. My bike as a kid had streamers, I owned an obscene amount of Disney VHS's. I used to collect pogs, beanie babies, and had a tamagotchi. After filling out all of these job applications, I'm considering paying one of those online places to do a huge family tree on me. I mean some ancient ancestor of mine had to have some exotic blood? Or I figure since technically we all came from Africa, then I can check a box right? The thing about these surveys is that they say they are optional and you can check a box that says "I don't wish to disclose" which let's be honest if I check that box it might as well scream "My MOM USED TO DRIVE A MINIVAN, MY YARD GROWING UP HAD A NICE FENCE, I LIVED DRIVING DISTANCE FROM AN APPLEBEE's TGI FRIDAY's and a RUBY TUESDAY'S, DURING THE WINTER MY MOM PUTS FLANNEL SHEETS ON MY BED AND I LOVE IT I ALSO PLAYED SOCCER"#whitemiddleclasspeople
3. Rejection Number 3: I don’t understand what the military does and I am not a veteran. This job was marketing focused, but based in the defense industry. The extent of my military knowledge is what I’ve learned from watching movies like Saving Private Ryan, Transformers and G.I. Joe: Rise of COBRA, and what I remember from a 6th grade research paper I did on Pearl Harbor. Also in undergrad the bar we all used to go was filled with Marines getting in fights. Therefore from all of this experience  I’ve concluded that the only people who sell weapons are either bad guys or beautiful women. And I can spot a Marine from a mile away based on his hair cut.
4. Reason for Rejection 4: I’m an independent woman. I thought I was a great fit for this pr firm. They have an office in a foreign city that I’ve studied abroad in, and I’m fluent in that city’s native tongue (Ireland BABY they speak English there so it counts). They were looking for someone who could think of creative solutions and handle the unexpected. Well once when I was making an apple pie I didn't have a rolling pin so I used a bottle of wine and the pie turned out great. Also hello I just got laid off and I wasn't expecting that at all.  The company’s website stressed independence in employees, so I shoved some of that into my cover letter. MISS INDEPENDENT, Miss Unafraid, Miss All the Single Ladies, etc! Apparently, that’s not what they were looking for. I also stole that from Kelly Clarkson without proper citation, so I probably got ruled out for “ethics.” Which, by the way,  in my opinion are subjective.

In other news I ran the army 10 miler yesterday and had a great time! I PR and was feeling great about it until today when I went to go look at the results online. Apparently a 73 year old man from Virginia beat my personal best by 5 minutes. He was probably a veteran. 

Tamagotchi:

 

People should really remember what they learned in grade school

Army 10 Miler bright and early tomorrow morning! I should be getting ready for bed but I can't stop looking at this picture that my friend Priya posted on my wall of the cast of Home Improvement.

What happened to JTT!!

I can't get over how crazy all of the boys look. And JTT maybe one of the few guys on the planet that I am taller then.


In other news a friend of mine on FB is a reporter and has been covering the Occupy DC protesters. Well the other day he posted a picture of a protester he was interviewing. Apparently someone else wanted to make a comment on corporate greed:

I mean WHAT IS THAT. I think all of these people need me to do PR. No matter how great of a quote she gave or statement she was trying to make it is all negated by the fact that she has a RAT coming out of her shirt and she isn't phased by it at all. I hope she isn't going to become the spokesperson of this movement.  I know that American Tale was a cute movie and so was Fivel but in reality mice and rats are gross. I mean yeah I don't like Wall Street greed but between these two images who do you think looks better. The girl with the rat or...

That what gets me about these protesters. It isn't that I don't think that what they have to say is true it's how they are trying to get their message across. If you can't make an argument without dropping swears, screaming, not being coherent, and resorting to violence, no one is going to listen to you.  I mean look at this quote:

In Minneapolis, one demonstrator told CBS News, "We're here because we want the big dudes to start paying."

You are using the word DUDES.  Someone clearly forgot everything they ever learned in vocab class.

I think the majority of them need to be reminded on how to write a 5 paragraph argument which I learned in grade school. This is something that was beaten into me in school. I could write you a timed essay in my sleep on pretty much anything. See here

1. Introduction Introducing a topic. An important part of this is the intro of the thesis. (the very people who almost wrecked the U.S. economy on Wall Street continue to get wealthy while working people are struggling to pay their bills)
2. Body Paragraph 1 Explaining the first part of the thesis 
3. Body Paragraph 2 Explaining the second part of the thesis (second reason why they are corrupt)
4. Body Paragraph 3 Explaining the third part of the thesis (third reason why they need to be punished)
5. Conclusion Summing up points and restating thesis

There you go. I just created a movement. I can also work free-lance and my rate is low.

Writing is important. Learning how to argue logically, calmly, and rationally important. Learning how to dress right when you are attempting to debate is important.  No one is going to take your opinion on where this country is heading if you have a rat crawling out of your shirt. I know my parents would always be happy to see me on tv being interviewed but if they saw me talking with a rat coming out of my shirt my parents would be flying out to DC so fast my head would spin.

Ok saving the country has exhausted me. Off to bed so I can run 10 miles tomorrow!

Prince Harry just landed in the US so I have to keep this post short

I had a job interview today so sorry for the short post! I'm off to go drinking with Priya! Prince Harry is also apparently in California so we maybe making a quick weekend trip out to the West Coast.

 I had to go to the DC unemployment office today to get some paper for my appeal WOOP. Which btw was an interesting experience. Watching people go through the metal detector at the unemployment office made me realize that the pockets in men's pants are way to big and can carry way to many creepy things.

But I'll leave you all with a conversation I overheard on the metro this morning on my way to the DC Unemployment office. 

Old guy already on the bus sees another older guy getting on that he hasn't seen in a while. They start talking about the last time they saw each other.
Old guy 1: "Man, I haven't see you since Leroy got shot."

Old guy 2: "The first time he got shot or the second time?"

Old guy 1: "Definitely the first time, because it was after they found that one girl under the bridge".

The conversation then turned to completely normal things like their families and football.

Welcome to DC.

My Self-Help Book Will be Right Next to Oprah's

So Steve Jobs passed away yesterday.  His ideas impacted a lot of my generation especially since I am currently typing this on a Mac Book Pro while charging my iPhone and iPod.  All of my facebook friends have been using quotes from his Stamford commencement speech in honor of him. Which btw if you haven't read or watched it. Do it right now. Seriously. This blog will still be here when you get back. Google it right now.

So I jumped on the bandwagon and put up one of my favorite quotes from the speech:

“When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: ‘If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.’ It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?’ And whenever the answer has been ‘No’ for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.” - Steve Jobs

Which I think this quote is great and I also think whether or not you like Apple or iPods or even Steve Jobs I think he has some wisdom that everyone should take in. For example, by the time he was 25 Steve Jobs was a millionaire. I turn 25 in about a month and unless something drastic really happens I will not be a millionaire by the time I'm 25. Whatever is the direct opposite of a millionaire that is what I am.

Now this quote maybe dismissed because I'm sure some people think "well yeah it's easy to take chances and try something new when you have money." Which is true. But Steve wasn't always a millionaire and as someone who is currently trying to figure out what I want to do for the rest of my life, I love it. For a long time my job was something I dreaded going to and just got up and did it everyday because I thought I had to. Until about 2 weeks ago (which congrats Kelly you've reached another milestone. i've officially been unemployed for 2 weeks!) when I was laid off. For a long time, when I got up in the morning and looked in the mirror going to work was not something I looked forward to. And now I have the chance to find something different. I want to be able to look in the mirror and say "yes"

Which can be hard to do. I have three interviews coming up next week (which btw replace Liz Lemon with me and you have what I've been doing all morning)

While I'm super excited to have these interviews I'm attempting to not rush into anything until I find something that I really want to do. Which let's be honest is hard especially since as an almost 25 year old I still don't really know what I want to do. However, someone told me to read the Secret and then I would find out the answers to all of my questions.

So here's the thing, I totally thought the idea of "The Secret" was to just imagine something and it happens.  Then after my extensive research of "The Secret," aka googling (thank you wikipedia!) it and then getting bored I discovered that the actual idea  is way too complicated.  But I did take to the idea of imagining something and then it happening.  To me that sounds like a pretty sweet deal, imagine something and it happens.  So if "The Secret" idea is not that, I have decided to make my own philosophy.

Anyways the working title for my life-changing theory is "Stop talking and change your life." This means if you want something stop complaining about it and go get it.  For example, I always wanted a blog, but I was to afraid to ever start one.  But then after encouragement from friends I started my blog.  And lets face it I have a lot of great things to say, or in reality every person has an opinion.

Anyways, there are many more important things that you can use this new ground breaking theory on.   Like if you want a new job, shut up and go get it.  I know there are excuses but I really don't care.  It's your life so if you want to hold yourself back from happiness go right ahead, just don't complain to me when I have better facebook pictures because my life is far more interesting.

Last reason this theory is great, no one wants to be around a bad attitude.  So if you were born with one, or for some reason you are just really angry just decide to change it. 

This theory might have flaws but I don't care, I'm going to implement it in my life. Most of the time I am the happiest person alive so you should just take my advice. 

So think about what you want when you go to sleep tonight and then tomorrow first thing make a list of how you are going to get it.

There you go, I changed your life.  You are Welcome. My book tour will probably start in St. Louis.


I'll leave you with another great quote from Steve Job's speech.

“Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.” —Steve Jobs 2005 Stanford Commencement

I'm going to need a minute

I need to take a minute and share with all of you my traumatic experience this morning. I dragged myself out of bed, turned on the shower, looked down and saw that my right foot was about 2.5 inches away from the BIGGEST cockroach I have ever seen not on the National Geographic Channel. This thing was the like Transformers of bugs.  

 

I wish I could tell you that I handled the situation gracefully but I did not.
 

I didn't even know how to remedy the situation. It was too early in the morning to deal with. I just stood there staring at it in disbelief. Then the fact that it was real and breathing and had it's own zip code finally sunk in and I screamed and sprinted out of the bathroom so fast my way out of that bathroom so fast his little cockroach top hat spun. I had no idea how to kill him. There was no way I could just squish himwith a piece of toilet paper as if he were your average spider.  I was afraid that if I  bent down that he would roundhouse kick me in the face like we were in a steel cage fight. I ended up throwing my  National Geographic Worldwide Knowledge book (hard cover yo!)  on top of him and promptly ran away screaming like a small child. I'm not even going to tell you all how much I had to psych myself up to lift up the book and put the "thing" into a trashbag. I wasn't sure if I could handle it. I did ponder moving out but I didn't want to leave Kerry alone with the evil bug.

My skin seriously would not stop crawling all morning. I keep obsessively scratching myself like a meth addict. I  hate cockroaches. I would rather a mouse show up and  be all "I'm bunking with you!" than one single cockroach scuttle through my bathroom. 

It's moments like these where I wish I had a boyfriend so that he could do things like kill bugs for me. Which brings us to.....RED HEADS.

Last night I was watching Glee. One of the main characters met his girlfriend's parents who were racist ginger supremacists. Yes I had to bold that just because I wanted you to laugh as hard as I did. Basically the girl's parents hated the bf because he wasn't a red head. And they wanted to preserve "gingers" since gingers are a recessive gene and will "die out in 30 years." They also went on to talk about all of the great attributes of dating a ginger.

Which I consider myself an expert on. You see from about Feb of 2011 to July 2011 I dated a red head. The only way I can explain it is with this picture below. And Yes I'm blaming it all on Ron Weasley and JK Rowling.  Dating a ginger was an interesting experience. However I can honestly say there were some perks. For example, I could always spot him in a crowd. After my triathlon I was trying to find him and my other friends who had come to watch. Now the finish line was in down town DC and there were thousands of people there. But I caught of glimpse of his fire engine colored hair and was able to flag them down. The other advantage was the fact that he always had sunscreen since his skin was sensitive.  Also I could always tell when he was lying because his face would turn red. And finally, it was nice to date someone who was paler then me which never happens. So there that's pretty much the 4 advantages of dating a ginger. The 3 disadvantages are: 1.) Fearing that if you get married that your children will inherit their father's genes and be teased during school. 2.) Having your landlady who lives next door ask him if his hair color is really "god given or did he decide to do that to himself. Because if he did decide to do it to himself he needs help." and 3.) Oh realizing that not only are there other woman out there who will date a red head but some will actually go farther then that and MARRY A GINGER. 

Yes I found out far along in the relationship that the Ginger used to be married and got married before he was even of drinking age. Do you want to know what I was doing when I was 21? NOT GETTING MARRIED. Needless to say the relationship ended. Upside I don't have to worry about my  future children having red hair. They can thank me later. Just like I thank my mom for not marrying that super short squaty guy she dated in college. Brian and I are thankful everyday Mom that we aren't 4'9 and don't have sqaure heads.

Lesson Learned Kelly. Lesson Learned.

The only ginger I will make an exception for is this one:

 That's right. Attention all single gingers. Unless you have a puppy and are Prince Harry I want nothing to do with you. 

Working Hard for the Money

I'm listening to Pandora while job searching and "Airplanes" by "B.O.B."   came on and after listening to the lyrics I want to set everything on fire with a good rant. Especially these lyrics from verse 1:

Yeah, somebody take me back to the days

Before this was a job, before I got paid

Before it ever mattered what I had in the bank

Yeah, back when I was tryin' to get a tip at Subway

There is NOTHING more condescending in the entire world than a successful, wealthy person whining about the perils of having money. How many poor people do you come across who are all "YES I love not having money and struggling day to day." (Other then nuns or crazy hippies).  that's right ZERO. Money is a good thing.

You miss those days BOB? Welp, I've got an idea! You go to your room and slam your door, I'll plop down at the kitchen table frustrated and then on the count of three, we'll simultaneously think, "I WISH WE COULD JUST TRADE PLACES!" and Freaky Friday our way out of both of our problems. How does that sound? Ever been a an almost 25 year old who can't buy name brand peanut butter or oatmeal? OH, REALLY? YOU HAVEN'T? Give me all of your money and then you can experience it. You'll love it. It's so...honest.

I mean I may not have worked at Subway like you did BOB but I put in my years at Schnucks wearing fake denim, paying union dues, and stocking Vagisil. And I did it all for the Mighty Dollar. But let me tell you, the second I got a real job that paid more then 7 bucks an hour, I haven't complained about missing the "good old days".

Go away BOB

But i sure did rock the fake denim.

Things You Shouldn't Look at When Unemployed

Humane Society and Dogs up for adoption. Because if you are me you will fall in love with a half golden/german shepherd named Rocky. And start to have dreams about adopting him, and him greeting me when I get home, and taking him for walks. Oh and I may or may not have googled halloween costumes for goldens.

Rocky

Luckily my apartment doesn't allow pets.

Who needs Rosetta Stone when being accused of murder abroad is the quickest way to pick up a foreign language. #AmandaKnox

Currently my friend Katie and I are gchatting and live streaming the Amanda Knox appeal in Italy. Different time zones and states can't keep our love for flashy trials apart. You should have seen us following the Casey Anthony trial. At any given time we had the cnn live stream up and were discussing Casey Anthony's body language.

Without fail every single time I watch a verdict come in I get nervous. It doesn't matter if the person is totally guilty or not. I remember watching the verdict of the OJ Simpson trial in 3rd grade. Yes my third grade teacher turned on the tv for all of us 8-9 years olds to watch and see is he was guilty of murdering his wife or not. Who says that Catholic Schools make kids into wimps?

Anyways, I didn't really know much about the OJ trial at the time. I was more focused on trying to figure out how to do long division and how to spell tomorrow (hint one of those things I can now do the other I'm still terrible at. Another hint to this day when I spell tomorrow I have to sound it out in my head "tom-or-row."

So when the verdict came in that OJ was not guilty everyone in my class was really excited! We didn't know that everyone else on the planet thought he was guilty. All we knew is that he looked happy and so did everyone around him. After school that day my brother and I raced off the bus and ran into the house shouting to our mom "NOT GUILTY! NOT GUILTY!" What did I know. I was young and thought OJ had a whole lifetime in front of him to do good with his freedom.

Fast forward 10+ years later and OJ is back in jail for stealing. But he still managed to land a book deal and get a job. And I still can't do long division.

me: im so nervous

katie:  i knowwwwwwww

insane

i hope they translate it in english

me:  ditto! 

Sent at 3:43 PM on Monday

katie:  dang!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

me: FREED

My new job plan is to become a talking head on a news network. Watch out Nancy Grace: Katie and Kelly are gunning for your talking head job.