And I never thought I’d learn anything about myself while doing laundry

Ok so I’m sitting in my car outside the laundromat and I can’t help thinking this is as bad as it gets.

Alright, I’m exaggerating because inside the laundromat are 2 screaming kids who kept walking in my path even though their dad kept telling them to watch out.

kids never watch out
Invincible little bastards.
I’ll admit I’m 25 and a total child-hater.
That’s probably why I don’t have any.

ok ok, it’s also because I never have sex and if I do it’s protected but I never do so that’s not even the point

Great move Kelly, now the 10 people who read your blog know you aren’t getting laid.
So maybe I like to make you appreciate the sex you’re getting.

A car alarm just went off in the parking lot. Which reminds me, it should be totally acceptable to punch someone in the face who sets off their car alarm.
Unless it’s me, but let’s be honest I don’t do that because I’m perfect.
Okay fine, I’m not perfect but I’ve seriously never done that so maybe your standards of perfection are way too fuckin high.

Have you noticed I yell at all of you a lot when I write?
Wow, total realization that it’s not my crappy writing that keeps people from reading my blog, it’s all my yelling and acting like you’re terrible people.
But it’s my blog and I’ll write what I want to, write what I want to, write what I want to. You would write mean stuff too if this all happened to you.
If you sung that last part in your head, we just became best friends.
Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you to go back and read it until you realize the tune.

And we’re back.
Live.
Still at the laundromat.
If you want to learn about yourself, go to a laundromat and find out how much patience you have for the people in it.
fuck. I think I’m evil.
Nevermind, disregard that lesson. It totally doesn’t work or tell you anything about yourself and WHATEVER UNIVERSE, I GET IT. THE LESSON IS I’M A BITCH.

So that’s what this is about.
That sometimes, when you’re at the most annoying place north of Minneapolis, you find yourself not wanting to listen to someone talk about the stains on their bedding.

My advice? Invest in a washer & dryer.

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And this is as serious as it gets (almost)

I believe in miracles.
Not in the oh my gosh I just won the lottery and met the man of my dreams and life is totally perfect type of miracles though.
I believe in the quiet miracles.
The ones you find when you help someone who is hurting.
When you feel broken but are suddenly calmed by a warm breeze.
I also believe in making your own miracles.
Which is probably why I drink.
in my world a lot of miracles involve hard alcohol
Have you ever had a rum & coke after what felt like the longest week ever? Little miracle in a glass.
But that’s not what this post is about.
Yesterday I found myself exhausted with life, with work, with myself.
I was browsing through pictures on Facebook
don’t judge me for having Facebook, blog world. It happens.
Anyway I came across a picture of my late grandpa looking over my nephew. They were glowing.
It’s been almost a year since I said goodbye to my wonderful French Canadian grandfather. And in that moment I felt him.
Something inside of me knew he was watching over me. And I felt peaceful.

So yes I believe in drinks.
I also believe in moments that make you feel alive.
In love.
In feeling connected to people.
But I believe in miracles

thanks for that one, grandpa. Life doesn’t seem so dull now.

And that’s what life is like.
I just found my quiet in a very loud room.
My light in a very dark place.

.

20130502-222241.jpg

I like metaphors today.
And today, I am content even in my frustration.

so fucking be happy for me, assholes

Okay, I’m back.

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It’s like everyone is against me and I don’t even know why

Okay, this is going to be one of those poor me moments. So yes, I’m also pouring myself a drink.
For those of you that don’t know as much about addiction as I do and not because I’m an addict. I’m not. but there’s a saying about alcoholics that goes a little something like this: poor me, poor me, pour me… Another drink.
so yes, I’m throwing a pity party. I imagine someone somewhere is saying Kelly, party of 1, your table is ready. In this scenario, I imagine the guy is really creepy and I probably have the table right next to the restroom.

This is just what happens in my mind. Because it started out as a bad day at work and my mind turns it into some catastrophic scenario where I’m stuck at a table near the bathroom by myself for eternity.

You’re welcome for making you appreciate the fact that you aren’t me right now.

Here’s a paraphrase of why my day was so bad:
Boss: I have this great idea that’s going to work out best for everyone!! Except you!!!
Ok so I set this up as a conversation. It totally wasn’t. I just smiled and realized that ha ha ha I just got the fuckin shaft so hard someone should have given me lube.

And that’s why I ramble about things that don’t matter. Because it’s easier than talking about things that do matter.

That. Is. How. It. Works. People.

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List of reasons I shouldn’t have a baby

Ok so I’ve been thinking today about how cute babies are and how I just want to cuddle them and even when they cry I’m like awwww so here is a list of reasons it’s a good thing I don’t have a baby because I don’t want my uterus getting any crazy ideas. You know how uteruses can be.
1. I can’t even take care of myself. Yesterday I forgot to wear underwear. Today I forgot to eat lunch. A baby might die if I do either of those things this is not an exaggeration people.
2. I had a tamagotchi once. I couldn’t even keep that alive. Like, feed me, pet me, blah blah blah. Annoying.
3. Babies grow into toddlers who grow into children who grow into teenagers and get less and less appealing as they age. And apparently you can’t just trade a baby in for another baby. It’s like we founded this country for nothing. I’m joking, obviously. So quit calling me the devil. Although I am quite horny. Ha. Ha. I digress.
4. Every plant I’ve owned has died a slow and painful death. Although, I did keep a puppy alive once but I’m pretty sure that dog hated me. Also she smelled really bad and I don’t do weird smells. This is probably 2 reasons.
5. I like everything to be about me. Nobody’s going to say what a cute outfit I have on when I have an adorable baby with me and why are babies such attention whores. Give me a break, babies. This dress is new.
6. I can’t even pay my own bills. I realize this doesn’t stop millions of people from having kids but it stops me. Oh babies grow out of clothes every month? Well my baby is a nudist so back the fuck off. Great, I’d have to move to a warmer climate for my baby to be a nudist and even moving is expensive. Fuck it, I’d just buy the clothes. But sorry Posh Baby, we can’t afford Baby Gap.

Anyway I think that’s all the reasons I need. It’s probably also all the reasons you need to lock me up.

It’s called satire people and I don’t know how to use it appropriately.

Good day.

I said good day.

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I don’t think this is what life is supposed to be like.

Let me preface this by saying, I don’t know what an exciting Friday night is anymore. but I certainly know what it isn’t
Things I know it doesn’t involve:
-Cleaning up your roommate’s mess
-Accidentally spilling garbage all over yourself while you’re cleaning up said roommate’s mess
-Thinking about how you haven’t been out on a Friday night since you were 21. You’re 25 now.
-Thinking about how you haven’t been on a date on a Friday night since you were 23. Again, 25 now.
-Listening to your roommate have sex when you haven’t had sex… Ever. Oh did I mention that?
Yep, 25 and still a virgin.
Although to be fair for the first 21 years of my life I had the delusional thought that I’ll wait until I’m married to have sex.
well guess what? When people invited that rule or whatever, they got married at 16 or 17. so really… That rule is stupid.
But it’s been 4 years and honestly I haven’t even met someone I want to have sex with. so that’s the reason I don’t.
Look, you learned something new about me.
I know what you’re all thinking
oh, now I get why she has a blog. She probably blogs when most people are having sex.
Yes, you judgmental assholes.
Anyway things I’ve also done on Fridays instead of going out:
-barricaded my door so that mice who were stuck in my apartment wall did not burrow out and underneath my door
-checked my room for spiders or spider eggs or babies or whatever spiders make. Found old papers from college. Threw out old papers from college. Repeated process.
these fears are totally rational in my head, thank you very much
-Knit scarves and drank tea. I may actually be a 70 year old woman trapped inside of a 25 year old. No wonder I hate loud music and drugs. kidding, give me both
-gone to the ER. More than once.

And these are the days of my life
So while you’re out enjoying your next Friday night out, I hope you think of me. At home, asleep by 8 p.m. because MASH re-runs weren’t on.

Just kidding, maybe…

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I wouldn’t even read this one.

Let me start by saying I’m not always humorous. I’m not always sarcastic.

I hope I’m not the only one who uses it to cover up how I’m feeling sometimes.

To be honest, today is a bad day.

I have regrets. I have many of them. Today they hit me like a shot to the heart. That happens sometimes. With regret. You think you’re moving on, that things are working out for the best and them BAM! right into a brick wall of regret.

I’ve wrote about him before. My biggest regret. The reason I even have a blog. And today, he’s all I can think about. Actually, he’s all I ever think about.

I can say that because he will never find this blog. He will never find his way to me again.

I know people say there isn’t just one person out there for you, but today, today I have an overwhelming feeling that’s not true. And I pushed him away. From the beginning. With lies and lies and..

I will get over this.
I will be a better person.
My regrets will not control me forever.
I can be happy with who I am, on my own.

Fuck. I don’t even believe it when I say it.

life. is. complicated.

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Nobody even asked if I wanted to sign up for this.

It’s been a while since I’ve written.

I know, I know. I’m disappointed too. Oh wait, you were happy about that? Ok, fuck you.

Sorry, I’m fighting with myself.

Lately, I’ve realized that being an adult, kind of fucking sucks.

Like, oh my clothes have to match and I have to get out of bed if I want to be able to afford the bed I’m sleeping in? Cool. I didn’t sign up for this.

So that brings me to my point.

Things people didn’t tell me about adulthood:

It’s expensive.

Can’t afford a washer and dryer? Have fun weekly spending time at the laundromat with people who look like they might try to steal your underwear when you’re turned around or kill you when you aren’t looking. Can’t afford to live by yourself? Have fun with roommates you will hate, who never clean up after themselves, and have more friends you’ll also hate who will be over continuously and help add to the reason you never sleep enough at night. 7-8 hours is recommended? HA. Good luck finding that in your schedule. Even when you have money, you don’t have money. Do I buy tampons or do I buy dinner for the night? Tough choice. For the record, I’ve made that choice before and I went with tampons and ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for 5 days.

It doesn’t magically get better after high school. This is one that was almost impossible for me to come to terms with. Because, hello high school sucked. I wasn’t popular or skinny or good at sports. But all that bullshit they say about how it all changes after high school is just something they say to keep you from killing yourself in high school. Truth is, it’s the same. The insecurities and problems you had in high school? They follow you. To college. To the working world. Forever. 

It’s not glamorous. I have yet to see Prince Charming. Unless Prince Charming is a sleazebag who tells you he wants to sleep with you 3 minutes after meeting you because he bought you a drink. Ah, romance. Oh and that person you thought peaked in high school and you’d be able to laugh at in 10 years? They have a gorgeous spouse, adorable kids and a fucking fabulous life. And you’re alone.

 

This. Is. Bullshit.

 

Oh well, at least I have this blog, right?

Where do I sign up for a life upgrade?

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