And that’s what happens when you’re a loser

There’s a difference between me and every girl you meet.

Oops, I sent this post prematurely.
not that anyone who reads this will actually know that, Kelly. But now they do, AND they know you talk to yourself. Smooth.
Seriously though, I spent my night watching Netflix.
There isn’t a difference between me and every other girl you meet, honestly.
Sure, I’m more likely to be sarcastic.
I’m quicker with a backhanded compliment than I am with a lie.
I’m nice to a fault.
I love more but don’t love myself.
I’m a work in progress.
I wish that someone told me as a little girl that I need to remind myself I’m worth something every single day or I’m going to end up a 20-something with no idea who she is because she’s spent all of her time running from something and pretending to be someone I’m not.
Unfortunately for me, that did not happen so here I am.
whatever, you don’t love yourself either. You have a blog for fucks sake. What’s that? Your blog is happy and uplifting and you talk about all of your accomplishments? Well la-de-freakin-da.
Seriously though, thanks blog.
For weekly taking me on a journey to love my words as my words and not someone I’m pretending to be.
For helping me find some good inside of me.
For reminding me that I’m funnier than all of you people but I’m not a better writer so I guess it evens itself out.
and thanks to the 40-something of you who follow my blog and stop by from time to time.
I’d like you more if there were more of you to like.

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This is a blog about Jesus and not the guy who owns a taco stand

I don’t know who I am.
But I do know a couple of things.
The first is that I’ve spent the better part of the last decade running from God.
I never understood it. The concept of God, Jesus, religion, and everything in between. It never made sense to me. But then again, I grew up Catholic and the only thing I will say about Catholicism is they make it really difficult for you to find a connection with God.
I mean who wants to connect with this big, scary guy who is up there judging me and watching me sin?
Not me, I knew that for sure.
So I ran, I ran as far away from God as I could get.
Except I’d often find myself in search of Him anyway. So I went to camps, I went to different churches, I participated in weird celebrations of the Earth. trust me, I’ve seen, heard and experienced more than most.
But maybe that’s the point.
I’ve done all this searching, trying to prove that I don’t need Jesus. That religion is some sort of misguided way of people who want to show they’re better than you. Only, not everyone is like that.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I dislike Republicans but I haven’t met many that I haven’t been able to at least tolerate.
The point of God isn’t to prove you’re better than someone else. God isn’t like that. At least my God isn’t like that.
This funny thing happens when you run from God, He’s still there. Waiting for you to figure it all out.
He’s in a movie you watch that makes you cry, He’s in a song that tricks you into thinking it’s about a girl instead of about Him, He’s in a breeze of fresh air when you’re feeling overwhelmed.
The point of God isn’t to find meaning.
God is meaning.

I’m not here to tell you what to believe.
There’s plenty of people and places who will do that for you.
But I’ve learned a few things and passing them along is not the worst thing I can do today:
1. Not all Christians are bad. In fact, not all Christians are good. That’s the point. Religion isn’t for the self righteous. Religion is for those people that don’t feel like they belong.
2. God isn’t for everyone. Here’s some truth for you. People find meaning everywhere. Maybe it’s in art or music or helping your elderly neighbor fix her window so she feels safe. What if I told you, God is also found in all of those things because God is meaning. would you hate those things any less? No. So maybe you don’t hate God.
3. If God is meaning than He’s interpreted. And I’m not necessarily going to interpret Him the way you do. That’s not a bad thing. That’s how it’s supposed to be. So don’t let the fact that Sam or whoever on the news did terrible, unspeakable things in the name of God, scare you away from Him. My God is loving, forgiving, gracious. And maybe that’s not for you but people are meant to be loved and I need all the love I can get.
4. There is such a thing as a bad person. You can be a Christian and be a bad person. Or a Muslim or an Atheist. Religion doesn’t make you a bad person. You make you a bad person. Or maybe the shit you’ve gone through or the hurt in your heart. But God didn’t do that.
5. Everywhere there is hurt. There is hunger. There is war. There is rape. There is sadness. God didn’t create those things. God created man. Man is flawed. Just because humans are flawed, does not mean God is. Just because humans are flawed does not mean God wants us to suffer. Where there is suffering there is compassion, love, hope. That’s where God is found. Not in the hate, the hurt, the loneliness. If meaning is God and God is meaning, meaning isn’t found in those terrible acts, meaning is found when you put yourself back together.

I don’t know many things but I know I ran from God for too long. So here I am. Admitting I love God. And that I’m not a perfect person. And I’m okay with it.



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It’s hard to tell what’s going on here.

Random facts that may make you judge whether or not I’m even qualified to have a blog..
if there’s qualifications for this, I’m fucked
I love jeopardy. I cannot spell jeopardy. Every time I spell out jepoardy and then think wait, that’s not right but I don’t know how to fix it and my autocorrect says just listen to us, you moron.
But for the record I’m watching the college edition jeopardy and even I could answer these questions and I can’t even spell jeopardy without help.
Just kidding, I don’t know what a goose lamp is so I’d be out.

I decided I don’t like the topic of this blog anymore because I don’t need the 0 of you who read my blog on days I don’t write judging me. So I digress.

Yes I just said digress. No I wasn’t an English major in college. I was a psychology major and if you are one of those people who are going to ask if I can read your mind, I can and there’s nothing in there.

Ok fine, I’ll stick with my original topic.
This blog will never have a theme.
But if I become one of super bitter moms, then and only then will my blog have a theme and it will be hate.

Ok nevermind, I hate this topic.

Ok wait, you can add can’t make up my mind to the list. That’s probably why I never write. That and my mind is empty. Completely empty.

I’m just kidding, I filled it with alcohol an hour ago. You’re welcome, brain.

I know what you’re thinking what goes on in there? well, you don’t even want to know. I don’t know how I make these connections but it. Just. Happens.
It is what it is.
Deal with it.

Chinese food is suddenly more important than blogging so this is an awkward ending.

Don’t expect an apology.

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So maybe I do have a list addiction. I’ll write you a list about why.

I feel like I’ve written a lot of posts and all I’ve told anyone about me is what I don’t like about myself.
Because it’s easier to talk about what’s wrong and what I don’t like than to talk about what I do.
no I’m not a pessimist, it’s low self esteem
So today I’m pushing myself out of my comfort zone because life is too damn short to constantly be at war with yourself.
And maybe the reminder will be a wake up call to stop being my own worst critic.
Because no matter what I do my mind says to me well that was stupid, no wonder you suck and everyone knows it and you are not exaggerating, this is all true.
Well guess what, mind? I am good at things. So fuck off.
Just kidding, don’t run off. I need you.
1. I’m really funny. Really funny. I don’t care whether I’m telling jokes as a catfish or at work or by myself, I am funny. The world needs humor and with that, you’re welcome world.
2. I’m nice. Not smile at you and talk shit behind your back nice but actually nice. I genuinely care about people. I want to know how your day was. I want to help you. I want to see people I care about doing well. That’s it.
3. Okay fuck it, this list is really hard.
4. Seriously I’m done with this list.
10. I just wanted this to be a well-rounded list.

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May flowers and stupid wedding showers

I went to a wedding shower this weekend.
First off, why do they call them showers? I enjoy showers. I do not enjoy wedding showers. Or baby showers, since we’re on the topic.
However, if you get my family in a room, on any occasion, something is bound to happen.
it’s why I love them
It’s also why I never go around them in public. just kidding.
Now I’m all about sharing my experiences with the few people who follow me. Because why wouldn’t you want to everywhere I am? exactly.

Awkward hellos are always the best part of wedding showers. My family is a family of huggers. I am not a hugger. I have personal space and I will cut you if you enter my space without permission. but I hug my family. The strangers I was just introduced to though? Nope.
So instead I pulled out my bitchy don’t even think about it vibe and created a few awkward moments.
After introductions, more awkward silence.
Hello, that is my dream come true to just insert my foot into my mouth.

Excerpts of the shower:
– don’t touch that, I will cut you
– I’m not above killing you
– Did you say something? I couldn’t hear you because YOU’RE NOT RELATED TO ME.
– A serious conversation went on about the Kentucky Derby and I’m sorry but if you take the Kentucky Derby seriously, I cannot take you seriously.
I got distracted thinking about how ridiculous a conversation about horse racing and tiny men is so I will move on to the next part of my entry.

Advice I created from this wedding shower:
– don’t go to wedding showers. Don’t go ever. Not if it’s your best friend, not if it’s your sister. Unless it’s for you, then go. Because you’ll get presents. Except then no one will go to yours because you didn’t go to theirs but that is probably for the best.
– If you didn’t take my first advice seriously, don’t play wedding shower games. It will ruin your relationship with your cousin because she is a cheating whore and should have been disqualified.
– Drink. A lot. Wine makes everything better at a shower. So does vodka. And rum. And you get the point. You need a drink. unless you have a drinking problem. Then I’d suggest not going to wedding showers.
– Don’t talk about sex to fill an awkward silence. You’ll end up knowing things about your mom that you never wanted to and you can’t come back from that. Ever.
– Don’t buy something that isn’t on a wedding registry. Not ever. That’s why there’s a registry. People deal with enough during weddings. Faking enthusiasm for your wine plate or crocheted cup cozies should not have to be part of it. Plus, why gives a wine plate? guess what I do with wine? I drink it from the bottle. and yes, I AM single but whatever.
– don’t try to make friends. Those girls will kill you. All of them. Unless you’re at some super cool wedding shower at a pub, but if they’re having a serious conversation about the Kentucky Derby, you probably aren’t going to make friends with those girls. Because you write a blog. And hate horses.

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Does mother rhyme with sappy? It should

In honor of this upcoming Mother’s Day and due to seeing a fellow blogger do a similar post I wanted to write about my mom.

This is her. And me.
She’s the shorter, older one.
in case some of you have poor reasoning skills


I owe everything I am to my mother.
Everything in her (and in my father) wanted a daughter.
Along came me
Cue the harps and angels singing because I’m clearly a miracle baby.
Also I don’t actually know if I’ve talked about my medical issues when I was 1 but yes, ok. Miracle baby.

As a teenager, the last thing I wanted to be was compared to my mom.
oh my gosh, you look just like her
wow, you sound just like your mom
you two are so similar
As a teenager, I told my mom I hated her more times than I can count.
I think back on it and laugh, and kinda cry because through those crazy years, the one constant was my family.

I’m 25 now (I know I know, how many times do I have to say I’m 25? EVERY BLOG POST OK? GET OVER IT.) and I can’t go more than a few days without talking to my mom. If I don’t see her every couple weeks, I don’t feel like myself.

Everything about me I owe to her:
My amazing good looks hold the laughter
My sense of determination
My feeling that I can do anything or be anyone I want to be
My love for other people
My need to help people through their struggles. To be there for someone.
My sarcasm
My sense of humor

Those are things I wouldn’t trade. Not now. Not ever. Not even for a billion dollars. Well, maybe for a billion dollars.

She refers to herself as sweetums. I refer to her as crazy. We laugh because we know we’re both crazy. The best kind of crazy.

One time I asked what I should do with my life because when I need advice I go to her.
My head was spinning with grad school, getting my license for counseling, taking a volunteer trip.
I asked her what I should do. Where I should go.
She said to me why don’t you do all three?
And just like that, solved another life problem.

She makes it look easy. She compliments me when I tell her exactly what I need to here. Like she doesn’t realize that I am who I am because of her. I know what I know, I believe what I believe in large part because of who she is.

When people tell me we’re alike now, I smile. Nod. And respond yes we are, but she’s the crazier one.

Because I won’t be out done.
I probably got that from her too.

I hope you have a mom you’re proud of and if not, I hope you are or are married to a mom you’re proud of. Because it is the best feeling.

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Life is a journey and this one isn’t inspirational

I’ve written funny things before.
I’ve written a lot of funny things.
Except I wrote them as someone else and I didn’t realize it until this moment but it dims the shine of the fact that I’ve written a lot of funny things before.

I’m a work in progress.
I’ve spent 25 years not liking who I am.
And here I am, writing as myself.
I don’t take this accomplishment lightly.
It is a big deal for me.

I know there are things in everyone’s life that appear insignificant to other people but those, those are the most important things in the world.
Making a meal for your family that they all like when you’ve never been able to cook before.
Going to a movie by yourself when you’ve never felt comfortable being alone before.

I’ve done those things this year.
I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone and fuck, it feels uncomfortable.
But you know what comes after the discomfort? A sense of accomplishment.
So yes, steps in the right direction.
Steps to finding myself.

So thanks for being another step in the right direction, blog.

And today, I’m taking back 3 of those jokes. 3 of those jokes that have made their way all over the Internet. Stolen by people. Taken from a fake person I created. But you know what? Today I’m taking these jokes back. this time as myself.

So on that note:

Taylor Swift just waved at a boy and he didn’t wave back so she’s got a new album coming out tomorrow.

This bar sucks. Okay, it’s my bedroom and I drink alone.

It doesn’t matter what you’re actually saying. I’m a girl and I hear whatever I want to hear to prove my point.

So that’s it.
Another step forward.

Hi Kelly, it’s nice to finally meet you. As you.

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