i solemnly that I am up to no good

So after my weekend in Michigan my body is getting back at me with a monster of a cold. My nose is hitting me with a trifecta of either being stuffy, running, or sneezing constantly. After not being able to sleep for two days I finally slogged my body over to my local CVS for the wonderful medication that is Nyquil.

Of course nowadays Nyquil is locked up behind the pharmacy because "people" make meth with it. So if you want it you have to go and ask someone at the pharmacy and show your license. Which is a pain but should be somewhat easy right?

Except the employee working behind the counter was a straight up Bon Qui Qui. I politely asked for some Nyquil and the following happened:

Bon Qui Qui: (The internet is being lame and not letting me link the video in so this doesn't work just go to youtube and and search MadTV Bon Qui Qui at King Burger)
http://youtu.be/jZkdcYlOn5M

Bon Qui Qui: MMMHMMM (holds up her hand) Wait a minute. (finishes texting on her phone)
Me: Ok
Bon Qui Qui: SIGH SIGH ok whatchayouwant?
Me: Hi, sorry to bother you  but I just need some Nyquil. (Which look I don't know why I end up doing this when I have to deal with difficult people. While I'm saying I'm sorry I'm mentally kicking myself for it. It's like oh HEY SORRY Bon Qui Qui that I'm asking you to do the job that you are paid for)
Bon Qui Qui: That's in the back.
Me: Well yeah and I can't get back there. The sign says to ask you
Bon Qui Qui: mumbling itsalmostlunchcomeonupinhereallinmyface.
Me: I'm not all up in your face I just want some Nyquil. Here is my license
Bon Qui Qui: Looks at my license: This ain't real it is fake. Missouri?
Me: No it's real. Missouri is a state (and is the number one producer of meth in the country hey-o!)
Bon Qui Qui: Do not get an attitude with me. (said with a neck jab)
Me: Um mam I am not giving you an attitude. This is my license. How about we have a manager look at it?
Bon Qui Qui: So you think I'm dumb? MMHMM you white girls come on up in here acting all uppity
Me: Mam I just want Nyquil there is no need for this to turn into an after school special about race.

Finally a manager comes over and looks at my license:
Manager: Missouri? Let me get out the license book to look at this
Me: FINE WHATEVER
Bon Qui Qui and the Manager staring at the license book and at my Missouri License
Manager: This license is in color the one in the book is black and white
Me: that would be because the entire book is in black and white.
Manager: Oh
Bon Qui Qui: I told you she be all snappy

Finally the manager agreed to give me the precious Nyquil. Of course I had to sign some scary electronic letter being all "I swear I have a congested nose and just wanted to be able to sleep tonight and I won't do anything illegal with this"And of course i almost accidentally checked the "I do not agree" box by accident, which in my defense was the first box under the letter. You would think "I agree" would be the first box but no they like to make it hard.

I paid and got the heck out of there watching my back for Bon Qui Qui. But luckily I'm pretty sure it was her lunch break.

After my Bon Qui Qui experience I couldn't help thinking about the fact that I had to sign some document saying I wouldn't use Nyquil to make drugs because people use Nyquil to make Meth. From my intense Intervention watching and Breaking Bad Marathons I know that making meth is hard. On Breaking Bad one of the main characters is a chemistry teacher which lets me know that there is no way I could ever make meth (not that I would ever want to, I don't). I can't even bake. Today I tried making instant popcorn and it burned because I got bored and wandered away in the two minutes that it takes the microwave to make popcorn. I clearly don't have the focus for cooking.

What gets me is according to all of the late night Datelines I've watched and 20/20s making meth is complicated. Yet everytime I read about someone getting busted for cooking meth it's some hoosier with no teeth and a lack of hygiene. How do they do it?

I think I should have prefaced this whole entry by letting you guys know that I took two Nyquil about an hour ago.

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