THAT FISH CRAY

I've been laughing for a few minutes, so there you go.

Sorry for the language, ma.

Yeah, I'm behind. This is what I like now.

Seconds 20-30 = my life.  I can never find anything in my purse.  I am convinced my car door isn't locked or that my straightener is on and my house is burning down at any given second.  Given the nimrods that live upstairs, I'm not sure why I'm secure in my house not burning to the ground for a reason other than my own forgetfulness.  I'm sooo worrrrried.



She creeps me out because she knows me sooo well.



And yes, I have seen this before, but I love them.  I also love the biggest loser, but more importantly, I love eating everything in sight after my 6 hours of class on Tuesday while watching the biggest loser.   I also like to know if I'm going out later when I  figure out if I should eat now or later.  Have to plan!!!!!!  And, confession: I don't have a fall coat.  I also don't have a boyfriend who's coat I steal, so I guess that really only eff's me over, so... not annoying girl win?



I love Home Alone 2 so hard.  I remember seeing it in the theater, and I remember KNOWING that no movie would ever be as funny as it.   There's just no way.  Merry Christmas, you filthy animals.

And here's some Pitbull, because he was with my through finals.  <3 you, papi.

Me too, Alec. Me too.

http://www.boston.com/ae/tv/articles/2011/12/06/alec_baldwin_kicked_off_la_flight_for_playing_game/?rss_id=Top+Stories

Flight attendants just don't understand.

Good News. I saw a dog today.

In December, I pretty much only speak in Elf quotes, so there's that.



Classes ended last night, I have two finals, and then I get to give Christmas the attention it deserves.  Let's speed through the unpleasantness of the next few weeks, mmk?

Usually, I have trouble sleeping leading up to exams, but this go-round I'm just having crazy dreams.  I also rarely remember dreams, so this is bizarre-o.  On consecutive nights, I dreamt that my car was stolen and I was being blackmailed with secrets affecting national security that were on my cell phone, also stolen with the car, that everyone was going to a party and I wasn't invited, and that I was an "I didn't know I was pregnant" person and spit out a kid and had to buy a booster seat to bring it to law school with me.  My maternal instincts are off the heezy.  And is it weird that I was most upset about the not being invited to a party dream?  The kid was mostly just an annoyance.

I've also heard it said that one's dreams are the most boring, egocentric thing to talk about, so you're welcome.

I feel you should know I got bangs. I think it's because the hair salon served wine, so they get you all hopped up to make some bad decisions.  They're growing on me slowly, but actually having to blow dry my hair every morning is no bueno. Maybe it's good something is forcing me to be an adult and not leave the house with wet hair?

And finally, I leave you with one of my fave Christmas songs, mostly because it makes me laugh (and then feel guilty):



Yes, I know Band-Aid gave a lot of money to charity, but could they have done it without pointing out that they're not going to have a white Christmas?  Or - GASP - they might not celebrate Christmas?  What chimney is Santa climbing down in Africa, Bono?

"Here's to you, Raise your glass for everyone
Here's to them, Underneath that burning sun
Do they know it's christmas time at all?"

Is there a more patronizing song out there?  I challenge you to find it.  And see if it can take me through the range of emotions that this one does.  C'mon, if "the christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom" doesn't give you a panic attack, you might not have feelings.

Bikram Laughs

http://www.buzzfeed.com/provincialelitist/yoga-mat-for-sale-used-once-1

Still laughing.  Also, half of my thoughts on my bikram yoga experience 2 years ago, also my first and last group class yoga experience.  I'm not as opposed to trying it again as this guy, but still.  I spent a good amount of time at the end of the class in child's pose contemplating the crab walk out of the room too.

The one where I become a homemaker

I haven't had my first pumpkin spice latte yet (what am I waiting for??) but it's definitely fall.  The 85 degree Columbus Day weekend tried to trick us all into the eternal summer - and I was game - but I definitely regret leaving my house without a jacket these days.  C'est la Bostonian vie.

So, natch, I'm thinking about nesting rather than reading for law school.  Each season has it's own special theme of procrastination.  The new apartment needs some decorating because it looks a little collegiate at the moment.  Confession: this is possibly because I can't be bothered to put the curtains up in my own bedroom, but our common areas need help.

I also was talked into requesting a pinterest account - it kind of doesn't make sense to me, but I have faith that it'll be the time-sucking joy that I've heard it has been.  And this is the first thing I'm pinning:

(source)

I want big horizontal nautical stripes in the living room just like these, and if my google skills are any good, I will need to make them like the above lady did.  I'm into it.

I also want a chaise lounge, a coffee table big enough to reach both couches, and I'm kind of into a white fluffy rug.  Because that will definitely be easy to keep clean, much like my white car.  It's not that I'm not good at thinking ahead - I fully understand that white is a bad choice - but I like it too much to care when I'm buying.  Curtains, chaise lounge, and coffee table are first priority, none of which will be white.  Except for the alternating stripes in the curtains.

When pinterest let's me join, I'll let you all into my dreamed up living room.

Turning men into boys

Thanks Pants!

http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/2011/10/the-offices-mindy-kaling-on-why-you-need-a-man-not-a-boy?currentPage=1

And for a much longer read that will make you forget who sent you here originally:

http://m.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1969/12/all-the-single-ladies/8654/

The "Occupation"

The Occupy Wall Street/every major city phenomenon is going on two weeks (I think?) and not showing signs of slowing down.  They're entire problem seems to be that they're e pissed off at the 1%, which clearly doesn't include me, so I feel like I can safely ignore them. 

But their arguments are off.  When did people stop striving to become the 1% and deciding that sleeping in the common and asking people to do their laundry is "hard work".  When did the 1% become evil?  The way I understood it, the American Dream wasn't what was promised to everyone, it was what - if you applied yourself - you could achieve.  Call me idealistic - I am - and I understand that politics today cloud the argument, but you can't pay off your student loans and get a job by being smelly and sleeping outside in protest.  Nobody said you'd get your dream job right away, and nobody said you'd start out making six figures.  But if you do well in school, work hard and move up, each of us can succeed too.  I know that income disparity has increased, and it's harder today than it was when our parents were kids, but I also have a lot more mobility than my parents ever did.  I had the opportunity to go to a good school - which I'm paying for dearly now - and meet kids from all over the country, when my parents stayed close to our home town and had to run a family business.  My choice to see the world came with a price tag.

Does growing up and facing the debt you willingly acquired suck?  Yep.  But have some accountability and grow up.  Go to work and have some ingenuity and you'll succeed in life.  To quote Dean Wormer:  Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, son.

And because Mr. Graham says it better than I can:  bam.

Clairvoyant?

Two nights ago, I had an out-of-character dream.  It was so not me because 1.)  I remember it vividly and I never remember my dreams and 2.)  It's not anything I expect or want or could handle anytime soon.

I dreamt I got engaged and had a massive engagement ring.  And as I sat in class, I was staring at it, and it was making me happy to just feel loved and have something sparkly on my finger as I was getting yelled at by a mean old professor.

Because I was staring at this ring so much, it's kind of burned into my mind.  It was a thin band with diamonds, that split kind of like a Y and came up to hold a massive square diamond, surrounded by little diamonds. 

I woke up a little weirded out - because WO life committments?  No time soon, k thanks.

But then yesterday, the Bruins raised the banner for winning the 2011 Stanley Cup.  I - luckily - snagged a pic with Lord Stanley's Cup, and as I idly stood around like a bump on the log in the excitement, a guy dressed in all black with curly hair came over. 

He was a Bruins photographer, and quietly asked if I wanted to see the championship ring.   UM, YEAH?  He snapped a few fantastic pics of me wearing the Bruins ring... and lo and behold?  Looks as much like my dream "engagement" ring as a sports ring could. 

Sparkly!

And now for a small fee, I will tell you oddly specific, bizarre and inconsequential future happenings in your life. 

Gilt got me

I've wanted Hunter rain boots real bad for awhile.  It doesn't matter that I'm certain they're too tall for my lil legs, and that anything that goes over my calf needs to be tried on before it's purchased, I want em.

Anybody who needs calf implants, I'm willing to donate.  That would alleviate the whole yes, I'm 5'1 and need to purchase "wide-calf" boots issue.  My calves are legitimately the circumference of some friends thighs.  A male friend who was voted "best legs" in high school and I have the exact same legs, proportionally.  I don't think men and women's legs are judged on the same criteria.

By themselves, I don't think they look bad, they're just muscley... but for fall-boot season?  They might as well be sumo wrestler calves.  I digress.

I got these on Gilt and I'm going on a calf diet.

And they even have wedges so I don't look like a midget! 

Now advice on how to make my legs less muscley would be appreciated.

Bacon bacon bacon

Do you ever put your foot in your mouth and then you just can’t stop yourself?


I have a friend. She doesn’t eat pork because she’s Muslim. Not only can I not remember this, I actively bring bacon factoids and articles to her attention. I seek her out specifically as if she and I have this intense common interest in bacon. In general, we tend to agree on everything, so it makes sense, but I am amazed at how many bacon-related topics I find and choose to pass on. Clearly, this is symptomatic of my greater problem of fatkiditis.

Recently, I have:

Invited her to a bacon and beer festival.

Posted a Ben Does Life link on her facebook wall regarding bacon flavored popcorn and then deleted it and pretended it never happened.

Asked for advice on the best of 3 different Dominos pizzas, 2 of which have pork on them.

Today, I narrowly stopped myself from sending her a blog of bacon flavored pickles – which are vegan and therefore not a problem, BUT SERIOUSLY KAIT, PULL IT TOGETHER. NOT EVERYONE LOVES BACON THE WAY YOU DO.

Except this kid.

(Sidenote: this wife swap had to have been a few years ago, right?  Because I’m probably going to have to look him up someday as a potential husband.  Nobody understands me like he does.)

Anyone who would like to be my new bacon go-to friend, please inquire within and save me from myself.

Nothing says cultured like yelp...

I don't know if anyone else gets Yelp's weekly emails, but guys.  They're kind of awesome.

I usually just skim through them, but time and time again, the neighborhood suggestions you get are spot-on.  Today's was about sports bars, and their advice that at the Garden you go to the Fours and in the North End you go to the Waterfront.... couldn't have written it any better myself.

From hair cuts to spa services to being the first place I heard about that new thing where you cook raw food in broth on skewers and then eat it - yelp's got me covered.  Each weekly email has a sidebar with fun events going on around town, and that's how I found out about the Lobser and Beer festival I attended last fall.  So delicious.

So, October is culture month, and Yelp is offering free or reduced price admission to a whole bunch of cool things - check out the list here.

Last weekend I grabbed three friends and went on a free Duck Tour, and whenever it posts, I want to check out the Pompei exhibit at the Museum of Science.  I also think it would be cool to go on a tour of the Opera House.

Boston's a pretty happenin place and I've done a good job of living in a few different areas now, but I tend to get stuck in my work - school - home loop and forget to see everything else this city has to offer.  Yelp's a good way to kind of look out the window in my super busy life.

Would you judge me?

For being a 26 (almost 27) year old with a wii? (And a super nintendo... and a N64...)

For subscribing to a rss feed of a site called "free sample freak"?

For ordering this? 

I feel this is a strong indicator of whether or not your maturity level can cope with mine.

It's come to this.

Beth: on the brady bunch. jan made up an imaginary boyfriend named george glass
me: you would.
Beth: i know

Ooooh la la!

I need a new bag.  I can only have one main bag at a time, because I will inevitably lock myself out of the house/forget my work ID/not have gum (the horror)/do something bad.  Accessorizing outfits via purses is just not in the cards for a space cadet like me.

Enter Rue La La.  Because, nothing says IMPULSE BUY like an email, telling you that a sale starts in TEN MINUTES and there's ONLY 1 LEFT of everything cool.

Never mind that I've had about a million expenses in the last month, like, ohhhhh a CAR and BOOKS (because school started again already... just kick me when I'm down), but dang, Cole Haan, I want a new bag. Rull bad.

So, it's too late, but what is the etiquette on a white bag.  Specifically, this one:

Is this all seasons?  White bags aren't like pants or shoes, right?  It's a little too late, cuz it's already comin' to mama, but I would like a little reassurance that this is legit.  I love it, but I'd like to know if people are talking about me behind my back.  

Talk to me.

Falmouth Road Race/Butt Kickin'

So, the problem with popular races that require you to sign up four months in advance is that I am very optimistic about my future abilities.  And there was a time when I could go out for a 7 mile run without much fanfare.  Likely, I'd set out just to run and all of a sudden an hour and a half had gone by and I'd been listening to my jams and hadn't noticed.  Woops, it's getting dark.  Or woops! I missed my fav TV show.  Or woops, I'm never going to get to sleep at this point.

But no more.  Now, it seems about two miles is my peak.  I'm out of breath, my legs don't want to go, and my knees hurt.  I can elliptical for a good period of time, but my midget legs just won't go the way they used to in college.

I peaked early; I'm learning to accept it.  In most ways, I'm pretty sure it was in middle school.

But, I'll keep signing up for races and being optimistic.  There's no better way to realize how far you've fallen then to be surrounded by a bzillion people zooming around you.  Then my pride starts to overrule my legs, and there's this internal struggle where college KK tries to fight back against truck KK of today.

So, at the Falmouth Road Race this year, I started off like a champ.  I was zooming along, passing people, feeling strong and proud about keeping up with everyone.  I even snapped this pic of the guy in front of me at the very beginning... Sully's Tap is my jam.  I like you.

I was full speed ahead for the first 3.5 miles... then the wheels fell off.  I could run a song, walk a song.  I tried to put on the pumpiest of pump up music, but the blister I got during this race?  Epic.  The crowds and energy were amazing, especially at the end of the course, but my "how 'bout I don't run and eat my feelings about law school" workout plan would not exactly have done Kanye proud.  Whatever.  I'm part lawyer now, I'm pretty sure they won't admit you to the bar without being pale and round.  And I refuse to be pale, so something had to give, and it was my endurance in running.

Falmouth, you were fun, and I think you were a good bellwether to motivate me, but you hurt like ski pre-season, and I didn't miss you.

And fun facts?  Mr. Sully's Tap, despite me losing him on the course, passing him off the bat, then apparently him blowing by me somewhere when I was sucking wind?  I sprinted at the end (gotta look good for my fans) and ended up limping along after the finish line right behind him again.  Looks like he and I have similar lifestyles/training plans.  I'm A-OK with that.

ZOOM ZOOM

I got a car, I got a car, I got a car, hey hey hey hey.  No offense to Buckwheat, (anybody remember the Little Rascals?!) but my car is way cooler than his pickles.  Heyooooo!

I've been eat/sleep/dreaming about a Mazda 3 for awhile now.  It didn't help that every other commercial was for SUMMER DRIVE and cruising away with a shiny new Mazda.  I was salivating.  Chomping at the bit.  It was all I could think about.  Definitely all I talked about.

And now it's alllll mine.

Thanks,  Larry!

I had a great experience buying my car.  The dealership tried to make it fun, and I obliged.  My brother helped me negotiate, I just got to sit back and sing the zoom zoom song.  

(I'm still singing it.  Sorry, friends.)

That's 4 miles.  Weeeee!  Thank you to everyone who's driven my dumb butt around for the past two years, but good golly, I've missed singing at the top of my lungs in a way that I can only do when I'm alone in the car.  And hitting scan on the radio every time that song I hate comes on without having to politely ask first.  Generally, I'm a well mannered young lady, but I missed my car: my rules!

Honter Ponters?

me: mmhmm. what would ann say about you being at the hong kong this evening.

in a dress that flies over your head with a puff of wind.

Beth: with inapprop honter ponters on 

for shame

me: what are honter ponters?

Beth: underpants 

me: who says that

what is that?!

Beth: according to my aunt. there was a song and everything

me: stop it

i'm giggling

Beth: it's true

i'll sing to you when we're not in a class with 100 of our closest buddies

When I learn how to record audio... I will post this song.  I need to know how to sing this song, and I needed to know yesterday.

Love for LNE

My love of LNE is well-documented.

So, please accept me re-sharing her awesome posts.  I bring you a list of things you can and cannot do in your 20's.

http://lifeneedsedits.com/?p=5796

You're welcome.

A Post-Chicago Post, a month later...

(Written as if it were August 8th.  Pretend, people!)

I’m back and I’m not happy about it.

I also just realized that I’m running a 10K this weekend. In the past two weeks, I have run one mile. Over the past weekend, I consumed Deep Dish Pizza, taco pizza, bagfuls of the most delicious cheesy popcorn, goat cheese whipped mash potatoes, more wedding cake than I think we should talk about, and various fried delights. But here’s a pic from my one mile run…

That's not Boston!

Thoughts:

Southwest isn’t as awesome as everyone says it is. Caveat – maybe it’s just cuz I don’t know how to do it, and I kept forgetting to check in until I’m the last one on the plane. If you’re gonna have your own freaky-deaky system, I’m gonna need some explanation. Especially if I, like the rest of the travelling population, kill time by having a beer at the airport. Let’s up the confusion factor some more by wearing my iPod wherever I go and not realizing that there are numbered pillars against the wall and that we don’t board when the section letter printed on our boarding pass is called. Whatever, fruity flight attendant man, I don’t need a lecture on cutting the line. What I need is a uniform system, kind of like the one the rest of the world uses. I also like buying plane tickets and picking my seat; I honestly probably wouldn’t buy the dumb ticket if I had to sit in the middle. I’d wake up earlier or take a different flight. So maybe, now that I know all of this about Southwest, it would be fine next go-round, but I just wasn’t in LOVE like I was expecting to be. I missed you, Jetblue.

The Cubs are as awesome as everyone says. Wrigley is so cool – with the houses around the outfield actually peering into the stadium, and having extra seating built onto their roofs. When I move to Chicago, I’m living here:

My new house!

Also, I learned this song and had it stuck in my head all weekend. And every bar plays it when the game lets out (possibly only when they win?)



AND I debated all weekend about which Cubs shirt I wanted (there’s a real push for this North Side vs. South Side shirt thing for Cubs v. White Sox, but honestly… nobody’s gonna get that in the 207. I barely got it and I was  on the North Side at the time).  Apparently there's a Spanish division of Cubs supporters, and so I am looking for a Los Cubs shirt.  Combines everything I love.

Anyway.  Thank you to my Chicago friends for making my brief law school summer vacation baller. I love you Moo, Smack, and Charity, (and Paps for bein' a friend!).

The Windy City

me:  what is flute
Ashley:  http://www.google.com/imgres?q=flute&um=1&hl=en&client=browser-rockmelt&sa=N&channel=omniboxsourceid%3Dchrome&tbm=isch&tbnid=vecbipelBio24M:&imgrefurl=http://themeanestmom.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html&docid=_ZxB94BCKt0X9M&w=750&h=600&ei=A645To_dGKqGsgLYpWw&zoom=1&iact=rc&dur=223&page=1&tbnh=159&tbnw=197&start=0&ndsp=15&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0&tx=98&ty=86&biw=1236&bih=707
or
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flute
Ashley's new status message - Kaitlyn: what is flute 4:23 PM

Never mind that her gchat status is "good for me, flute is the new black".  Whatever, Smash, I'll fight you this weekend...

because now this is happening:

If you notice, I'm on a boat (!!).  Props to Al-pal for this gorgeous depiction of the weekend to come.

I'm going to CHICAGO for a wedding, which will include a Cubs Game, a beautiful ceremony, a beeeeach, and more dancing and laughing than my abs are prepared to handle.  Both dresses came in this morning (just in the nick of time), and a quick vote of the office has every male coworker voting purple.  Perhaps I'll quick change and do the navy for the ceremony and purple for the reception? 

I am SO excited to see my girl friends.  When I'm not scheming about how to get them to fall in love with men from Boston and move back to me, I'm looking into trips to see them.  And scheming of ways that we we can just play weird dress up and yell Mike Jones and look for dimes...

Yes, in fact, that is a dime.  Don't forget your change purse when you dance with us.  Also, my dad likes this song.  I digress.  I'll be looking for a dime like it's 2006 until further notice.

Mike Jonnnnnnnnnnnnnnes!

Friday Roundup

I got crunked last night.

That's the most action the BPL has ever seen. WOOOOO PARTY AT THE LIBRARY!

I get sample sale emails from Daily Candy, which I normally open and close just so that the notification will go away.  But today I found this: Dear Creatures!

Eveyrthing is nautical and adorable:

I could wear this and pretend to be on a boat, instead of singing "I'm in a cube! I'm in a cube, everybody look at me, cuz I'm standing in my CUBE!"

 

And oh hello:

 

 

Thoughts on the demand for lawyers stationed on boats.  Are there legal crises on ships that necessitate a lawyer on call, and by on call I mean on the lido deck with a daiquiri?  Sign me up.  I probably need that last dress to fit the part, no?

What I listen to on repeat on my way to an exam



Makes me feel badass.  And just because Grammie C loves telling people to shove it:

If you don't like it, you can shove it

But you don't like it, you love it.

That's my personal motto... that, and everybody wang chung tonight.

This is how law school feels

Source

Ouch

This led to the inevitable question of what else Jews should be called which led to the obligatory reading of wikipedia's list of religious slurs.  As a (non-practicante) Catholic, I'd just like to say that article - which I won't link to because it's kind of terrible - was more than half slurs about Catholics, most of which were sort of funny.. including bead jiggler/rattler/mumbler.  Therefore, it's not like I said something offensive!  I said Jew, which is what you're called when you're Jewish.  Like I practice Catholicism, so I am a Catholic.  I ain't mad at ya.  That's what I am.   For further reference, see Adam Sandler:  "OJ Simpson, not a Jew."  It's an okay word if it rhymes?  Is that how this works?  Did I miss the boat when this was no longer an everyday descriptive noun?  Someone needs to keep me up to speed on what's PC, because I'm always last to know.  Smashley, this is your department.

See also:  that time I told Barb and Jeff I was likely converting because I was on a Jewish boy streak (slump? Jkkkk) and I was going to have to convert someday, so I might as well get it out of the way.  I'm a huge Judeo-phile.  If I'm not having meat on Friday, I'm making sure my fish is Lox, ya heard?

Really, I'm just pissed because the J was on a Triple Word score block, so I'm calling BS on Words with Friends.  If I were playing scrabble with Grammie C, that would have been totally legit, whether or not it's a proper noun or Apple deemed it offensive.

Goin Downeast

(Source)

I have no business being anywhere but the library this weekend, but I just can't say no to Vacationland.

And because this always cracks me up (and is creepily accurate):

Honesty and the Interwebs

I read a lot of health bloggers, including Caitlin of Healthy Tipping Point.  She's fun, I've re-posted her blog links and videos a bunch of times, and I just love her positivity and overall do-gooder mentality.  She's so honest about the good and the bad in a way that I don't think I could ever be on the internet.  She bares her soul everyday, and I give her major kudos for opening herself up to a world of criticism. 

So my comments should be taken with love from a huge fan.

http://www.healthytippingpoint.com/2011/07/green-your-period.html
This made me spit out my coffee and I wasn't even drinking any, to quote El Pres. 

I'm super bad at being a girl, so these statistics about landfills and pollution... oh my.  It's terrifying how much waste I alone will likely produce in my lifetime, and lumping me in with some 52% is staggering.  There's always room for improvement with greening the world, so why not look at these practices that no one really wants to discuss.

But what really creeps me out is this dye stuff.  Honestly, does it matter what color the tampon is?  Does anyone care about this?   If we cared about the color of our tampons, we probably wouldn't be using them to bleed on, no?  I'm much more concerned about my health in the long run, and if someone else wants to spearhead the movement to make tampons not give me cancer (mostly because it kind of icks me out to talk about them too much), I'll be your silent supporter.

But this Diva Cup.  The irony of slapping DIVA on something so personal and messy is not lost on me here.  I feel like this is the Model T of greening your period.  I've never been an early adopter and I'll gladly wait until we're talking about the family sedan of the 50's, built for comfort and ease before I jump on any such BPA-free pooling cup, cancer be damned.  I am from Maine, but I'm a weeeee bit too republican for this.

And now for a real life reaction from a best:

#1: ok

here's my thing
i do not want someone making me feel guilty for using tampons b/c of the environment
the health aspect i will read
but i'm sorry - i am not going to start washing out reusable pads b/c landfills are full of tampons - i'll just come over to your house you hippie and sit on your white couch and then we can talk about how my tampons are ruining the earth
is she f@#%$ kidding with this f@#%$# cup
me: hahahahahaha
#1: dude i want to write her a f@#% rageful email and just be like get real friends and live in the real world for a week
then talk to them about the f$^% diva cup and lady diapers and see what happens

My friends are awesome. 

Friends with Benefits

I went to the movie theater by myself (first solo mission - wasn't bad at all) to see Friends with Benefits at an advanced screening through Gofobo.  Go there, sign up, and you'll get emailed two tickets to advanced screenings of movies in your area.  You're welcome.

Even though I've been signed up for a year, this was the first movie I actually attended.  Because it's an advanced screening, the theater personnel are super paranoid about video cameras taking bootleg copies of the movie, and they actually take your cell phone, put it in a paper bag, and hand you a ticket with the advice not to lose the ticket.  Uh... yuh buddy.  It ended up being fine, but I easily could have departed the theater with 14 iPhones, and in the future I might just leave my phone at home rather than deal with separation anxiety throughout another movie.  Call me neurotic, I can take it.

Source

The movie was adorable.  Yes, I love love and JT, but this was better than that.  If anyone has seen No Strings Attached - which was also good and chick-flicky - this blew it out of the water.  The characters are stronger; their dialogue is better - banter!  God, I love banter - and I think it better captured the emotions behind friends crossing the line.  Everything was inside jokes and teasing and ultimately it was pride that broke up the power balance and caused the obligatory third quarter rift.  Oh, and there were gratuitous flash mobs to melt your heart.

Where NSA panders to the "girl who's too busy for love because of grad school but wants a guy who will just hopelessly fall at her feet and let her walk all over him even though she swears she doesn't need a guy in her life" -- Friends with Benefits was more realistic.  Even the most stressed out busy people want love, (take my law school class, we're all a lovesick mess) and I think the latter did a better job of portraying the complexity of friendship turning into something more, the emotional risk and vulnerability that go into taking such a leap, while managing to be bitingly funny.  It got me to suspend my disbelief and invest in the characters and their relationship in a way that NSA never quite pulled off.  I loved it, I want to go see it again, and boys: take notes here.

My threshold for chick flicks is admittedly pretty low - I just want to walk out of the theater feeling happy and hopeful - but Friends with Benefits is funny enough to satisfy even my male counterparts out there.  Especially one that would watch a pirated copy of the Proposal in bed alone on a Saturday morning.

For those keeping score: here's looking at you, Brenny.

Foursquare just yelled at me?

So.  Sometimes I forget to check-in, but I want Foursquare to know where I've been, so I just update a little later.  We're talking like, I was at lunch and I forgot to check-in but I'm still in the neighborhood so I'll update it later rather than walking into some jerk playing the accordion in downtown crossing while I'm playing with my phone.  I'm just being a conscientious walker and citizen.

Apparently, this is major Foursquare fraud:

I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul.

Whatever, I went there, and I'll just remember to update more slowly in the future.  Ain't nothin gonna break my stride. 

And how the hell am I always 9 days away from becoming the mayor of everything?  I'm starting to think this is a crock.  Aw shucks.

Which dress?

I need a dress to go to a wedding that:

1.)  Won't wrinkle in my suitcase
2.)  Won't wardrobe malfunction at the most aggressive dance party since 2007
3.)  Will be prepared for a limbo competition
4.)  Is a good addition to my lineup

So I love this one....

...because it is elegant and drapey (most likely flattering) and the strap will keep it on me, but do not love that is is another almost-black dress to add to my boring attire.

But I love this one....

... mostly because it is purple, and I have no purple, and I want some badly. 

I have two votes for the first and I'm still leaning toward the second.  Why doesn't the first one come in purple?  Do I just order them both and decide based on fit?

Help.

More bromance

Upon hearing that Gilly was off the market, Dwelley subtley tries to woo sweet Gil through texting me promises of a bigger rock...

Good thing we're in Massachusetts. 

And why am I the conduit for man-love-sexting?  Did I just coin mexting?

The T

So, the T and I are not BFF, but public transit is significantly improved by the Catch the Bus and Catch the T apps for the iPhone.  I can legit leave my apartment to the minute so that I walk up as the bus arrives; and as much as I love it now, it's going to be ahhhhmazing in the winter when standing outside makes me want to cry.

But for those of us that can't get these apps in Boston yet, (here's lookin' at you, Blackberry users - but don't worry, you are significantly more coherent via text than I am with my stupid touch screen), there's this: http://www.howfuckedisthet.com/

You can check out the website before you leave your house to know ish how long you should expect to wait.

Life is so much better when it's efficient.  Since you can see the degree of effed the t is in, you know when you have time to grab a coffee or make a call or do anything other than freeze your tush off on the sidewalk and scour the horizon for the big dumb bus.  I feel cooler already.

(And sorry momma, I didn't name it).

Jeal

Vassup, babe?  I can't keep this all to myself.  It would be too selfish.

Adult Sippy Cups

I'm veering off my normal Blue Moon/what-do-you-have-on-tap routine and trying out new cocktails.  I love crazy flavor combos, (kinda like my chicken salad...), like the blueberry basil martini at Scholar's.  Yum. 

So I was scanning the menu last night at Stoddard's Fine Food & Ale, which has never let me down on exciting drinks, looking for something new, when what to my wondering eye should I appear:

A drink of Jasper's Secret Mix and Sailor Jerry?  Anything with sailors is a-okay in my book. 

Then, it was presented like this:

You know it's a good night when your first drink comes in a teddy bear holding a baby teddy bear mug.

Now excuse me while I go google Sailor Jerry and find some bacon.

Food Trucks

Why are they so delicious?

Chicken kebobs in Downtown Crossing are without fail far more delicious than chicken kebobs from a stationary restaurant.  Please discuss.

And then drool and feel free to arrange dates with me that involve twitter stalking any of these places:  http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/food/gallery/foodtrucks/

Getting Mowwwwied

I had the distinct honor of being consulted in the purchase of an engagement ring - and holy-i-know-nothing-about-rocks, Batman. 

So, they all looked pretty, but I still don't know what a princess cut is, and honestly, colors G-L looked like white/clear to me.  The M color which looked like yellow mud looks like those stupid canary diamonds I'm seeing on celebs these days.  Who would want a yellow diamond?  Woof. 

But more importantly, Mr. Groom had spent the last year researching, and the jeweler greeted him by name as we walked in.

Typical for this guy - and it shows how much thought and time and blood and sweat he put into picking the PERFECT ring, and that's what matters.  Just that he cares and put in effort.

But since I know nothing about rocks... (I skipped rocks for jocks and took DINOSAURS) I'll probably be happy with anything, ring-wise, and future Mr. KK can save his year of stress and hemming and hawing and go with something normal looking, because I'm pretty easy to please.  What I do know about, and what I can judge, is the HOW in this scenario.  Because, if I'm spending my life with you, I want a good engagement story. 

Momma and Poppa don't really have one... I think she cared more about the rock, so they went ring shopping together so that she got what she wanted.  I mean, you're wearing something til death do you part, I get wanting to like it.  But I want a big, makes-me-cry, sweet show of emotion that makes me feel like I'm spending my life with someone who really wants to make me happy and surprise me, and not like... buy me off?  I'd rather measure love in gestures than in dinero (and yes, maybe I'd feel differently if I had a better trained eye for rocks?)

SO, any good engagement stories?  Mr. Groom's initial theory involves a honda civic and a confetti cannon, which I need to derail before he brings in Bozo and a bearded lady.  (I'm not available that weekend anyway, haaaaaaaaa).  Help me help him!

OH, and, the other chick on the ring viewing tour: 1.) Dropped the diamond - not the one that was ultimately purchased - and freaked.   2.)  Got a blatant butt stare from the jeweler.  No better way to show that you're single than by going to buy a diamond with a guy friend and knowing nothing about diamonds.  Maybe this should be my new move?

Free Slurpee Day

Monday's lookin up...

http://www.boston.com/Boston/businessupdates/2011/07/eleven-toasts-birthday-with-free-slurpees/5QKZ1cGns8Hcu07cmU7m4L/index.html?p1=Upbox_links

Also - complete side note - I don't know much about seasonings, but I hate bland food and I like crazy flavor combinations.  And other than my years of trial and error (involving more of the latter), I made a cranberry walnut chicken salad last night, and google told me to add dill.  I did it, against my better judgment, expecting it to make the whole batch taste like a weird pickle, but lo and behold - it was delicious. 

My instincts = no good.

Conflicted

I think I just figured out why I'm so into Pitbull.

I don't like most things about him.  He's bald and seems skeezy.  He looks like a completely different person when he takes his aviators off.  He wears suits like a straight Neil Patrick Harris.  This is not sounding like a list of things that "work".

But somehow it's all offset with his incredibly attractive attitude.  He's like a hispanic James Bond, and this is life lesson #5300 that attitude is everything.

And Ne-Yo, you look like Steve Urkel.

Terrible news

Crazy Grammie Charlotte was a Reed, and because I know zero about genealogy, I looked up our family names on the source for all information that is undeniably true, and I'm distraught:

"Reed" is a variant of the surname "Read", which is commonly believed to be a nickname-derived surname referring to a person's complexion or hair being ruddy or red.

I COME FROM A FAMILY NAMED FOR BEING GINGERS.  Apparently they've been weeded out by natural selectivity, because I don't have any ginger relatives that I know of.... but still.  I feel like I found out I was French.  To quote Ms. Handler:  "Along with the 97 percent of women who can see, I have never been a fan of redheaded men."  I'm concerned for my gene pool.  What if I pass it on to a son?  There's gingervitis in my blood!?  Somebody hold me.*

*Kidddddddddddddddddddding.  No gingers or French folk were harmed in the making of this blog post, but seriously Beth, you and your gingophilia stay away from my unborn sons.

Blog domination

At another work going away party (a weekly occurrence) at the new bar down the street from work/school, (which has been open for less than 2 months but has a new monopoly on my discretionary booze spending), minding my own business, when I see a guy I've seen a million times before.  In fact, I had just read how he met his wife that day at work.  So, I stared at this poor guy until I realized again that I'm creeping on a blog person that I have not met, but I know wayyyy too much about.

So, because Laura didn't pepper spray me, I decided to go say hi to Ali, who promptly gave me a big hug and was pumped that I came over to say hi instead of emailing her after the fact.  (I think that would make me more of a stalker, right?  Isn't it more creepy to know that someone was watching you and didn't say hi?)  Not much else to report other than she was so sweet and exactly as she comes across in her blog, and I'm only minorly concerned that my scarf is askew and I'm smiling so big that my cheeks squeeze my eyes shut in the pic we took - also, welcome to every picture I ever take.  Small price to pay for making a new blog friend and being some kind of stalker socialite.

 I kinda love the blogosphere.

New work playlist

No particular rhyme or reason, but this is what I've got on repeat:


So come on, and shake your bum-maker.  That's what I'm singing in my head... which generally means it's wrong.  Don't burst my bubble.


In honor of Bobyn... another good friend lost to Canada.  Wah.


Give me cinnamon rice drink.


I don't think I'll ever die living as free as Gaga's hair, but whatever.  It's an ideal.


I've been listening to this since finals, and I finally just googled Bette Davis to check out her eyes.  All I know is that if I had Gaga's hair, and Bette Davis's eyes... ow ow.


Like a boss.

One more day til a mini vacay... Happy Fourth everyone!

Sometimes this happens...

Love Letters

My love of Love Letters on Boston.com is well documented and understood, but today's is kind of wild:

I bring you: I think about women.  I usually agree with Meredith, but today I think she's nuts.  If you tell your husband you're thinking about women all the time, that's the end, right?  Isn't marriage predicated on wanting to be handcuffed to someone in particular, which necessarily includes their gender?  If this were reversed, and it were the guy questioning his orientation, I feel like this would be an automatic gameover; but because it's a woman, it's somehow less egregious and supposed to be "exciting" for her husband.  I'm realizing day by day that no marriage is Disney-perfect, and every relationship has shades of gray to it; but if you feel trapped with a man when you're meant to be with a woman, isn't that the most basic reason to call it quits?

I know it's more complicated than can be expressed in a love letter, but I just feel like this advice is the old-timey, "ignore what you feel" mantra... or try to get your husband to approve of it.  Am I crazy?

Are you stalking me?

Because that would be super!

So, as an avid google reader/blog afficionado, I've developed a massive collection of blogs that I check in on everyday.  My casebook may go untouched, and my name card will thus be "misplaced" come Tuesday/Thursday nights of summer class, but dammit I know exactly what's happening with my blog loves.

It's sort of like having a favorite TV series where you follow the lives of people you don't know but are interesting and exciting and somehow you feel like they're your own friends.  This is acceptable with TV people, because that's fake life, but feeling creepy close to an actual person I don't know? That's called stalking, and I'm walking a fiiiiiiine line, girl.

Except when a blog of a friend of a real life friend happened to post that she was coming to BOSTON LAST WEEK... I got weird and asked what they were doing...  and then there was an epic meet up, and a 90's dance party, and then this happened.

Thanks for not filing a restraining order, for being awesome in real life, and for making social media seem less like I'm just talking to myself...

Oh, and for making me feel like part of the TV show.  I'm totally FAMOUS now guys!

The walking home debate

Because I live in America's walking city -- apparently, not-so-named during the winter -- I like to walk home.  From everywhere.  Especially when it's nice out and the train has stopped running and I may or may not have been out having some grape juice with friends all night.

Which makes me a Lifetime movie in the making.

Other than take this girl's advice, my main dilemma is avoiding talking to people.  Because late at night people like to yell weird things at you and engage you in a conversation that you don't want to have.   So to avoid this ugly scenario, I wear my headphones, but with the music super low or off just so that I can ignore the dude hollering at me, without appearing rude or escalating the situation by being that girl that ignores him/them/it.

I walk by a lot of homeless people between work and school if you can't tell.

So, naturally, Friday night when I was walking home through a super collegiate section of town, I had my headphones in.  The area was well lit, lots of people out and about, so it was safe for me to utilize the ignore button of real life by pretending I can't hear you over my whisper soft music.

And then a group of college dudes walks by and starts yelling.  And I keep walking.  Then, one turns around, jogs back to me, and taps me on the shoulder.  I wheel around, ready to give him the old Billie Blanks jab to the throat, when, WHAM.  Right in my face... he hands me a flower, smiles, and  jogs back to his friends.

Sometimes, I am way too cynical.

Thank God I didn't peak too early

Operating under the presumption that one can never be too humble, Grammie Charlotte has had this picture on her kitchen table forever.  What's more fascinating is that, as I've grown and matured and no longer resemble a moustache-less Hitler, this picture remains.  While normal families accentuate the positive in each person, glossing over the less-than-newsworthy parts like a bad report card, my family put the dictator-tor front and center at mealtime.



Watch out, fellas.

 There was no way for me to grow up anything short of self-deprecating.

Anyway, what is wrong with people and facebook these days?  A magazine I picked up at the gym explained facebook perfectly - if you're having a bad day, post a picture of yourself looking gooood, or a funny pic, or something silly, and watch people come out and support/laugh/compliment you to no end.  It's a fantastic self-esteem booster, (sorry, just sayin.) 

Therefore, I'd like a moratorium on the facebook self-pity thing.  Fine, I had to accept your friendship because I knew you that one time because of that thing.  I won't be rude, we can be friends.  But your access to my newsfeed is privileged, and you should treat it as such.  Nothing is more annoying than having to find out how to hide your posts so that I don't have to hear about how fat you are as I'm glancing through everyone's merry little lives.  You're not fat, you're just husky, and so am I, according to the levi's I had to wear in second grade (how rude of levi's to name them that).  Let's leave the tearful posts for the livejournals, or for NOT ON THE INTERNET.  It's not a good look for you, random acquaintance.

And more importantly, own whatever you got and laugh about it.  Floppy ears, bug eyes, angry tuft of hair and all.

Blackout

Taking me into the weekend...

On the Bruins and Ben Does Life

ANNND the Bruins win! What a wild and crazy couple of weeks.  Co-workers and friends have been faithfully watching playoff games every other night for what feels like forever, and it all ended in a crazy night last night.  Vancouver burnt down their city, and for once, Boston celebrated a major event and we all made it out of the night alive. A friend's boyfriend spent the night sound asleep on a bench down by the waterfront, but that's a story for another time...

Yes, those are my friends... or at least the one in the blue is.  I'm not taking ownership of the front dude.

Am I bandwagon fan?  Maybe.  I usually go to a couple of Bruins games a year, and they're always fun.  But in my defense to all the people who yell about pink hats - meaning bandwagon fans/girls who are SOO proud the Bruins scored a touchdown in the fourth inning! - the playoffs are when things get exciting.   It's easy to be a diehard Pats fan, given that Sundays are religiously about chili, couches, and Belicheck, but my schedule/life don't really allow me to be a diehard for any other sport.  1 o'clock Sox games tend to be lost in a mix of meetings/homework, but I'll jump at the chance for a night at Fenway, and I'll watch when the going gets good.  If that makes me a pink hat - liking to watch games that count for something - then that's a-ok.



Hannnyway.

Is anyone else in love with Ben, of Ben Does Life fame?  Other than a minor transgression where he supported the Canucks, (woof), he makes my heart melt.  He's the biggest loser without Bob and Jillian, just changing his mind and changing the world by telling his story.  Saturday, he's kicking off a nationwide "do life" tour to get you and me off our couches, and it's starting in Boston!  I plan to wear my finest black and yellow running apparel, because this do-life run/meet up will serendipitously coincide with the Bruins parade.  KARMA on that Canucks thing, eh?

Anyone else who wants to Do Life - here's the schedule.  See you on Saturday!

Texts from last night

Funny... I don't think I "shared" my number.  My friend also isn't named Katy.  I do recall a night, about three months ago, where she was looking for a way out of giving out her own number though...

Foursquare or be square?

My unsolicited opinion on foursquare? 

I'm creeped out about having my entire facebook world know my location, so I don't link it up to FB.  But, it's kind of cool to know where friends that you like - and are relatively certain won't  stalk you - are, and what they're doing.  My former Bostonian turned LA friend took it upon herself to DL and set up a foursquare account for me.  She also took the liberty of moving it to my blackberry homescreen.. because, getting to my phone contacts wasn't THAT important... She is currently my only foursquare friend, and insists that I check in only so that she can see where I am and what I'm doing in the city that she misses.  I think that's nice.

And the deals! LA lady checked in to a bar in San Diego, and we ended up with a free order of tater tots for every round of drinks we ordered.  Let's just say we made friends that evening.

What I'm really trying to say is - is anyone else sneaky on foursquare and do you want to be my friend?  Promise to only creep on you when I find out we are at the same place and it's a happy coincedence. I just love world's colliding, and I like foursquare's potential for facilitating controlled chaos.  Pleeeease?

I hate cats

Is this real life?



Other than the part where I HATE CATS, everything about them, holy moly girl.  When I start to worry that I'm a crazy girl, I'm going to look back on that time I watched your video fondly.

Wednesday's have a whole new meaning

Wednesday's are the best night of the week for finding love according to OkCupid.  This data must be legit, because I know the most people on this site, which is an obvious conclusion I was able to draw because I have completed a year of logic college.  Wednesdays's are also wildly convenient for KK, because I will be in class every Thursday night from now until forever.  Coincedence?  I think not.
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/05/magazine/nate-silver-wednesday-night-is-right-for-loving.html?_r=1

Can I get a hump day joke here?

Dating Do's and Dont's

Is it weird if I start sentences with "Say!" or "Suppose it went this way..?"

1(L) and Done

So I finished first year, (that last statement is a leap of faith which will leave me suspended until grades come in... oh, in ten weeks or something), and have started summer classes, and am feeling better about my fraction.  (1/3.5 Lawwwwwwwwyer! whattuppp!)

So let's talk lighthearted things.  I'm making my summer reading list, and as much as I have should-reads coming out the wazoo, I'm looking into all the Chelsea Handler my little brain can wrap itself around. Suggestions on other brainless, funny, lighthearted reading to accompany my Corporations textbook as I get my tan on this summer?  I've been told Something Borrowed (yes, you will be part of my grand return to the movies) is good, and considering how I like to read popular things approximately 5 years after everyone else does, I think I'm nearing that window.  Give me more fun ideas!

And something that's bugging me.  Bruno Mars.  You still make my heart melt with Just the Way You Are, (seriously, guys. this is the key to longterm happiness. just repeat these lyrics line for line. kinda like that seinfeld where jerry dates the girl who writes him a love letter verbatim from a movie, and it actually inspires jerry to get back together with her because it's so heartfelt.. until he sees the movie.  i'd still probably stay with you, even if i knew all along that you were copping bruno's lines.)

But WHAT, in all that is holy, is the lazy song?  I'm bopping around listening to you, and then I realize that someday, I'm going to be driving the Volvo Wagon to a pee wee soccer game, and lil KK is going to say "MOMMMMMM, what's P90X?".  It's like Mr. Mars wanted to take a snapshot of all the ridiculous fads of the moment, put it in a catchy little time capsule, and make me have to answer for it down the road.  "Yes, kids, 2011 was an interesting time, and good point, he did a pretty good job rhyming snuggie with dougie." 



And with that hair, I'm going to have to explain the difference between B Mars and MJ.  And that Alf was also in the 80's. And why these monkeys take their pants off. AND, why do boys think it's acceptable to lounge with their hands in their pants?  My first year out of college I lived with three guys who kept their hands perpetually in their underoos. I digress. Bruno Mars, I love you, and I will continue singing your lazy song, all the while knowing that I will pay for this someday.

Now get me to this long weekend, sunshine, iced coffee, my puppy, and summatime.

Hi Ryan!!

In case you haven't seen this gem:




I’m 57% sure this was not me… mostly because I don't really likes yo yos.

Spring now.

1.) On Earth Day, (Friday) you can:
a.) bring a reusable mug to Starbucks to get a free bevie.
b.) bring an empty bottle of face wash to any origins, and trade it in for a new bottle with this ad: http://www.origins.com/cms/special_offers/in_store_trade_in_20110422.tmpl

2.) It needs to warm up so I can wear these now:

Or let's be real, it needs to warm up so that I stop looking like an overzealous Bostonite wearing floral shoes and dodging puddles in this rainy spring.

3.)  I'm buying this tomorrow, cause I keep thinking about it.

This brings my summer 2011 dress purchases from american eagle to 3.  Which, sounds strikingly like summer 2001.

4.) I listened to this walking to work today:



I'm your hell, I'm your dream, I'm nothing in between. Yep.

So, while it remains in the low 40's, I will continue wearing flip flops and purchasing sleeveless clothing to the tune of the summers of my middle school years until the weather catches up to me.  But please hurry it up, my poor blue toes can't take this much longer...

The day Wiz Khalifa redeemed him/them/itself...

http://www.ilistentoeverything.com/i-listen-to-everything/2011/04/i-love-this-song-no-sleep-wiz-khalifa.html#tp

I'm gonna concur with loving this song.. I'll now forgive Wiz Khalifa for that embarassing period where I thought Black and Yellow was about the Bruins. 

Old Movies

Remember when I said I'm awards show illiterate?  What I lack there, I make up for in useless old movie trivia and quoting capability.

I'm currently reliving the wonder of Joe Di-er-tay, and pretending that I don't actually own this movie.  "You mean to tell me that you're facial hair just grows in all white trashy like that?"   The worst giveaway of my terrible taste in movies is when I quote things and have no idea where they came from... the saving grace being that anyone who recognizes such a quote has to admit to having seen the same bad movie.

I also watched Jurassic Park last week and completely remembered why I'm afraid of birds. And why Newman from Seinfeld is even more gross to me.  He totally got what he deserved when that creepy dinosaur with the mane and the spitting problem attacked him in the jeep. Woops... spoiler alert.

I also hate war movies and boxing movies... because I don't like watching people get beat up/shot/exploded. If, however, there's a serial killer or psychopath involved? Well then it's a mystery and I love it.  Or a slasher film, and other than my new favorite pastime of babysitting, I love these too.  Please don't prank call me with that scream voice box thing.  I'll cry louder than the bebes I'm sitting.

OMG, Kid Rock just showed up, and I completely forgot he was in this.  TTYL.