Me at 25

Last Friday was my 25th birthday. I turned a quarter of a century old. Not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but it is a landmark birthday that seems like it will take forever to get here, but now it's here and that's that.

Here's the thing though. When I was in 6th grade, our teacher had us do a project called Me at 25, where we had to make a scrapbook of our future lives up to age 25. I worked REALLY hard on that project and I still remember the vast majority of the details. I promise when I go back home in a few weeks, I will dig it out and we can contrast and compare, but for now, here is my memory only version of Me at 25.

Firstly, the rules of the project. Our teacher told us we HAD to be married and we HAD to have kids.

So I was.

To Matt Damon.

With 3 kids.

Let's compare this to my real life now shall we? I am not married to Matt Damon. I'm not married at all. I don't have kids. He's kept up his end of the deal, having 3 babies by the time I was 25, but they weren't with me.

I married Matt Damon because it was 1997 and Titanic had come out and to a 6th grade girl, Leo DiCaprio made for prime marriage material. So everyone in my class married Leo. I didn't want to marry Leo too, so I looked at other movies of the day and found myself drawn to the new comers from Boston. So Matt became the lucky guy that got to marry me by the time I was 25.

In my story of my life on my way to age 25, I lived quite an adventurous one. I was an actress, won an Emmy for some sitcom I was on, went to Boston University and got a Masters and found time to take up skiing at some point. I wasn't very good at it since that's how Matt and I met. I fell down a slope and he totally rescued me. Of course it was the usual love at first sight, blah blah blah, we got engaged a year after we met and married a year after that. I forget how old I was at this point, maybe 21? I remember thinking I didn't want to be married before I was 21 since I wanted to be able to drink at my wedding. HA! The things that were important to my 6th grade brain.

We got married on a yacht in England. Seriously. I don't know what or why I was thinking what I was. Time went on and we had 3 kids, a girl, then twins- a boy and a girl. I don't remember their names. But I'm sure they were entirely embarrassing. I want to say I named one Celine. YES because of the stupid Titanic song! UGH. 1997 was a terrible year to be planning my future. We had 4 cars, one was a New Beetle, because it truly was new back then, I think one was a Passport, and I forget the others. We had lots of homes, on each coast, you know, since he's from Boston. And that was basically it. At least what I can remember.

For the project we had to make a scrapbook, so I spent HOURS going thru so many catalogs and magazines to find the best pictures, and the same model who was supposed to be me at 25. It was a hefty project, but it was fun.

That is, until I actually turned 25. Turns out I don't have a Masters. I didn't go to BU. I'm not an award winning actress. Matt Damon didn't Borne my Identity. (pretend that makes sense). I don't have kids, but honestly, I'm not stressing over that! No multi coast homes, no New Beetle.

So much of my 25 years of life imagined in my head stayed up there. But that's ok. I think despite that, I've had a much better trip to 25 in the real world than I did in the scrapbook world. The one thing that made me feel really old when I turned 25 was watching Beauty and The Beast. My all time favorite Disney movie, it was re-released, just in time for my birthday, and I of course got it. In the beginning, the narration explains that The Beast has until his 21st birthday to break the curse. TWENTY FIRST!!!!! Beast is not all young!!! Beast was older and handsome! Not some 20 year old kid! Oh well, I guess when I was 6, 21 was old.

And now it seems so young.

Growing up is hard.

Thank You All

Hi Gang,

It's been ages, I know. I've failed at being a good blogger who updates her stuff on any sort of consistent basis. You should see the drafts section of the blog, it's FULL of posts about nails, kittens, cars, life, etc. I just have been too all over the place in the non cyber world to put down all of my thoughts cohesively to present them to you. Right now it's like:

I like pretty colors. Did you know you can put pretty colors on your fingernails with special fingernail paints? I have 100 colors of pretty for nails. NAILS PRETTY!

or

New kittens are playful! WHO KNEW!?!

Yeah, it's pretty much like a caveman drawing. Which would actually be this:

I'm not even going to attempt to draw kittens. The hand was hard enough. I digress...

I promise new content coming soon, I'm a terrible procrastinator, which bodes well for you all because it's midterms time, so what better to do than update my blog when I should be studying for health! Yup, that's happening right the moment! YAY!

But the real reason I wanted to put up a new post is to say THANK YOU to you guys. I've had several people tell me that they really liked my writing and how much my posts about Zamo moved them. You can't possibly begin to understand how much that means to me. I don't have a college degree (I'm working on it tho!) and I've always felt like something of a failure for having to drop out and work full time to support myself. I've always loved writing and it's been something I've considered myself good at. So to have people like you guys tell me that I AM good at it, well it fuels my fire to finish that degree and do something with it. My heart swells with pride and joy from your lovely comments here or on Twitter and I honestly don't know how to say thank you enough for the love.

But as a start, here's my promise that I will do everything in my power to at least post something once a week! This one doesn't count, so hopefully I'll have something to put up for you all soon! Besides, I do have a film midterm tomorrow, I'm sure I can get a lot of procrastinating done then!

I love you all, thank you for reading my words.

Kal

Rainbow Bridge

Zamo and I's first hour together.

Our last hour together

This post will be short because it is extremely sad and we have covered the majority of the situation already.

On July 20th, 2010, Zamo lost his battle with renal failure. When I came home the night of the 19th and found him in the bathroom with water soaking him (probably his fluids that had leaked) and no strength left, barely enough to even get in and out of the small ledge of the shower, I feared that we had reached the point in treatment where enough was enough and there was nothing left to be done except set him free.

I sat with him all night and petted him and told him how much I loved him and how much joy and happiness he had brought me. I wrote him a letter, telling him how the moment he came into my life, I felt a cloud of sadness fall away and how he always made the sun shine on my face. When morning came, I struggled with the thought that this was the last time we would spend a morning together, that this was his last sunrise. I begged myself and God to please let his medicine get here and for it to be able to work instantly and make his anemia go away and give him back his strength and let me be with my baby longer. In the back of my mind and in my heart, I knew that the medicine wouldn't help him, it would only temporarily alleviate the weakness he was suffering from because of the extreme anemia and that it wouldn't start working for about 3 days after we started giving it to him. And worst of all, I knew that it was nothing but selfish of me to try to keep poking and prodding him with vitamins and medicines that would only prolong my time with him, not his enjoyment of life.

We called the doctor and the hardest decision I've ever had to make was made. At 5pm, we would make our way to the office to let Zamo end his suffering. I spent the day with Zamo, lying with him wherever he wanted to be, even taking him outside to lie in the sun and enjoy the outdoors one last time. Our vet is extremely caring and was very understanding with how hard this was for us and made sure that we were able to stay with Zamo for as long as we needed to. Zamo seemed to know why we were there. He seemed more at peace. I held my baby and rocked him and told him how special he is and how much he will always be so close to my heart and how much I love him. The doctor gave him a medicine to relax him and let him sleep and I held my baby while I felt him fall asleep. I held him when he got the final injection and I held him even after I felt his heart stop beating. I couldn't let him go.

It's been over a week now since we said goodbye and it's still so hard to think about losing someone so special and someone who made my life so amazing. The next morning, I woke up to the feeling of him jumping up on the bed and walking up it to my face, like he used to do every morning before he got sick. I was so happy, I opened my eyes and expected to find a purring little face next to mine, ready to lick my nose. But when he wasn't there, I was crushed. That whole morning routine of getting ready for work was impossibly sad. Going into the bathroom and not seeing his shadow appear outside the door, not having him come in and rub against my legs, then jump up onto my lap while I tried to use the toilet, not having to fight him off the toilet paper, all things I wished so much I was doing. Instead I sat on the toilet, hugging a roll of toilet paper and cried.

The more I think about feeling Zamo on the bed that morning, the more I realize that he WAS really there, he was coming to me in spirit and telling me that I made the right decision and that he was happy and free of his suffering and that when the time was right, we would be together again because our love was strong and everlasting. I knew it was ok for me to be so sad, but that I should be happy that I was able to give him such a peaceful and love filled crossing. He was not in pain, he was not hurt, he was not scared, he was surrounded by love and was very much at ease. It was certainly the best way for this sort of thing to happen.

I'm sorry to bring sadness to this silly place, but this is the story of my life and Zamo will always play a big role in it. I miss you little buddy, I always will. You made me complete when I was in pieces. I can't ever thank you enough for that.

R.I.P. Zamo
April 27th, 2008 - July 20, 2010

Zamo

I know we have done a Zamo post before, but this one is special. Please bear with me as I probably won't be articulate enough to explain everything correctly.

About 2 weeks ago, Zamo started to neglect his food and sleep in weirder placed. He's done this before, especially when the weather changes. Unfortunately, we live in an apartment that doesn't have central air, only the hotel room box style AC in the living room. 10 out of 12 months a year, this isn't really much of an issue, Irvine has a beautiful climate and we live very close to a lake so we get nice nighttime breezes. But in July and August, it's insanely hot.

So when Zamo wasn't eating much, I assumed it was because it was getting to be insanely hot and that he was just adjusting to how to deal with the heat. Then I started to notice that he was dropping weight pretty rapidly and that he wasn't getting better. That's when Boyfriend and I decided it was time to go to the vet and find out what was wrong. I'd done some research and found that his symptoms seemed to suggest he may be diabetic. So when we went into the doctor's office and he showed concern over the size of Zamo's kidney's, I was shocked and even more worried.

A day later after blood work analysis had come in, the bad news hit me: Zamo's kidney's were failing. His creatinine levels were at 4.9, they should usually be in the 1's. We were lucky they were still below 5, as anything above that is severe failure. He was also anemic, at about 20%, and his potassium levels were bad as well. Suddenly options like blood transfusions, ultrasounds, hospitalization, and other scary things were being told to me as to what needed to happen.

Shocked, I knew the first thing to do was to get him into the hospital to start receiving IV fluids and antibiotics. The first day he stayed in the hospital, the doctor said he responded well to the treatments and to bring him back the next day. He had to wear a cone and had an IV catheter in his leg. My sweet baby was so happy to be out of the hospital and he came home and ate and ate. I was so happy to see him returning to a somewhat normal self. He went back for a second full day in the hospital and when I came to pick him up, they told me he'd done even better and that he was free to go home for the weekend. They preferred if he started to decline, that we take him to a 24hr ER hospital, but he should be fine at home. We came back the next day to go over his last blood work recheck and saw that his anemia and his potassium levels had gotten slightly better, but that his creatinine levels had not changed. This was concerning. However, since you "treat the cat, not the numbers" and he had been acting better, they decided it would be best for us to learn to give him subcutaneous fluids at home and oral antibiotics over the weekend. We learned how to use the IV bag and how to properly change needles and how to make sure he got the right dosage. If you have never had to do this, I pray you don't, as it is so scary to have to turn your living room into a mini hospital for your loved one. Especially a four legged loved one. You have to find somewhere that's high enough to hold the bag up so you can get the fluids to drip correctly, you have to make sure to keep your needles and bags sterile, make sure you poke them correctly. Everything about it is scary and so hard to think that you might have to do this for the rest of their lives if they don't get better.

We kept this up for about a week, giving him the fluids and oral antibiotics and things seemed to be moving forward. He got up into bed with us, tore down some toilet paper, ate more regular food, everything seemed to be getting better. We went back to the doctor for one more blood recheck and the doctor said that how he was acting seemed to indicate he would be getting better. Then the doctor called back the next day with his retest results. His creatinine had sky rocketed to 13.7, more than doubling in a week and very much past the 5.0 level of "severe". His anemia was worse, down to 16%, which is where they would start recommending blood transfusions. He was not getting better, he was not going to get better, and we need to make the most of the approximate month we had left together.

I begged and pleaded that there has to be something we can do, he's only 2, he should not be getting problems like this! The doctor was very understanding and seemed almost as upset as I was that it had not been the infection we thought we were dealing with and it was something much worse. We couldn't do much else at this point, an ultrasound would be out last attempt to try to look at the kidneys and see what they looked like, if he had cancerous cysts, something that could be genetic or if there was anything else we had missed. However, the ultrasound would not change the prognosis. The doctor described it as a Hail Mary, but was not optimistic it would change much of anything. The blood work showed that I was going to lose my baby boy. After speaking with my family and to Zamo, we all made the decision to not subject him to more tests and stress and instead to try to make him as happy and as comfortable at home for the rest of his time with us.

So here I am, still shocked and incredibly heartbroken that this beautiful sweet baby kitty who I love with more than my entire heart is going to have to go to heaven much too soon in his life. Zamo is absolutely the sweetest cat, with all the best quirks that make him so special.
He loved to help me around the house. Whether it was cleaning the toilets, doing the dishes or vacuuming, he followed me around and sat right next to me when I did this.
Every morning when I would get up and go to the bathroom, he would come running in from where ever he was and jump up on my lap. I didn't mind sitting on the stupid toilet for 10 minutes because that whole time, he purred and rubbed against me and tried to eat my hair and licked my hands. It was our time.
When he was a baby, he would climb up on my bed with me and sleep on the upper half of my pillow then he would always wake up with my alarm and bound down across my face to make sure I knew he was up and it was time for me to get up too. He never woke me up early, he was content to lie with me in bed and wait until my Blackberry alarm went off, then he would get up, stretch out and walk up to my face where I was trying to read emails and bite the sides of the Blackberry.
He always knew when I was supposed to be home from work, and everyday, he was always there, waiting for me at the front door. He always got up and came over and rubbed my legs and told me how much he loved me and how much he would love it if I would open the windows for him to look out.
He is everything to me. It destroys me to see him not his usual self, even if he's not hurting, it's still not fair. I'm so angry with God for doing this to us. He's just a baby! He doesn't deserve to have any of this hurt in his life. He deserves to live for 20 more years and to be happy and playful and helpful and funny and oh so sweet for all of them. I would give anything to help him and make him better.

The only solace I have is that 2 years ago, a tiny baby kitten walked into my life and we changed each other's lives for the better in so many different ways. We saved each other, we loved each other when there was no one else around to love us. I wouldn't give up my last 2 years with him and all of the love and joy he has brought me to take away the hurt in my heart now. When his time comes, and I pray that it will be a long time from now, I will lose a huge piece of my heart and soul. But I would never trade all of the love and all of the time we've shared to not lose that piece. I don't think he would either.

I'm sorry that I haven't posted in a while, I've had some great things happen in my life and wanted to share them with you all, but now is not the time. Please go hug your furry babies and tell them how much you love them and make sure they know that they are so special to you. I've got to go spend some cuddle time with mine.

EARTHQUAKE!!!!!!!!!!

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN TWITTER BREAKS!!!!!!!! COME BACK TWITTER!!!!!!

That was not a fun quake. The last big one we had was rolling, lasted like 30 seconds, but was like riding a wave. This one was jolty and shaky, not at all smooth. I wasn't born in California and I've not exactly grown up with earthquakes, nor have I been through a very big one, and I hope I don't ever have to be. So I don't handle them with the most grace.

This time I was sitting here on the couch typing the last post and putting on a base coat on my nails at the same time. You never really know when you're feeling an earthquake or if you're just feeling a phantom quake when you're me, so when I started to feel all shaky, I wondered if I was just smelling too many fumes from the nail polish. Then it got jolty. Then I spread myself out as if making myself wider would do any good, but didn't really move. More like I just braced myself against the air. I always say stupid shit like "YEAH! It's happening!" like someone asked me if I was feeling an earthquake a the moment. I can't explain my logic of my earthquake readiness, but that's what I did.

This one lasted about 15 seconds and was on and off jolty. It almost warranted a move under a doorway since I don't have any tables except a glass one that I would never trust to save me in a quake, but I had an open bottle of nail polish and didn't want to have to clean that up if it didn't really end up being something major. Thankfully it wasn't, everyone is fine and Boyfriend is very Gen Kill looking right now.

Please come back Twitter, the world is ending without you...

The Time Twitter Broke When I Started Dating Larry David

Twitter is currently a big fucking whale of annoyance and so I cannot tweet to the world the mass panic that is occurring in my life as we speak.

Today Boyfriend came home from work with a bag full of goodies. Canvas drop cloth, milk, dinner and clippers. Like the kind you use on men for cutting their hair. I assumed he wanted to use it for touch ups. No. He wants to use it for shaving his head. He's outside on the pitch black porch right now messing around with it and shaving off his hair. He's basically going to look exactly like Larry David when he's done, since no hair = Larry David.

I feel like I brought this on myself. Just this weekend, as I was driving up to Santa Cruz, I found myself thinking how much I hated it when my last boyfriend decided to start messing around with his look. He tried to dye his dark brown hair blonde and it ended up orange. He LOVED his orange hair. I hated it. With a passion. As I remembered this painful memory, I thought to myself, boy I'm glad Boyfriend doesn't mess around with his nice hair. Sometimes it gets a little long, but otherwise it's mostly fine...

Now look at me.


FUCK AND NOW THERE WAS JUST A BIG EARTHQUAKE!!!!!!!!!

BOYFRIEND IS HOME!

Good news! Boyfriend is home! YAY! Excited!! Zamo is really happy.

Bad news. He forgot my present!!! BOO! Sad.



More later, we are going car shopping soonish.

Boyfriend Comes Home in 12 Hours!

He says he super misses me. Who can blame him?! Now I just need to make myself look pretty like I do in his mind. I'm pretty sure it's not like I do above. Not hot Kallie.

I told him that I miss him and the fact that he keeps me on my toes all the time and since he's been gone, my toes have been firmly planted. That's pretty fucking romantic right?

I think so too.

NBC and I Are Breaking Up

I super love TV. Probably way too much. Friends sometimes ask me why I watch so much TV. Because TV is funny, informative and gives me something to have going on in the background. If you think you are better than someone who watches TV, I guarantee I've learned shit on TV that you never knew. So step off.

Ever since I watched TV as a child, I can remember that NBC was a station that rarely did me wrong. I watched Fraiser and Wings and Friends and Mad About You and I'm sure several other shows I've forgotten, but were good in their heyday. But recently, NBC has been letting me down. I don't remember when it started, but they've been throwing slews of shit at us for a while now. Even their good shows have started to lose quality. I'm sorry to say it but The Office is starting down a slippery slope of obscurity. Very rarely are any of their new shows any good, but they had a hit with 2 new shows in the last 2 years: Parks & Rec and Community. I genuinely look forward to my Thursday night block of Community, Parks & Rec, The Office and 30 Rock. I sometimes just sit through the Office like it's the Brussels sprouts that I have to finish in order to have my dessert. But the other 3 shows, usually gold. So today when I found out NBC has decided to scale back Parks & Rec to a midseason show, which means it will only have 13 episodes, not a full 24, I got confused and wondered why they would do this.

I decided to read up on their new fall schedule. I am beyond disappointed. Allow me to present to you my "favorites" from their new fall lineup. I will present them with the NBC website synopsis, followed by my take on them. All writing in italics is not mine and belongs to NBC and all it's glory.

Monday Nights- Chase: U.S. Marshals Annie Frost likes to stay one step ahead of the outlaws. As far as this cowboy boot-wearing girl is concerned, they can run, but they can't hide from her forever. Annie has a sharp mind, a big heart, and an attitude to match. Throw in a unique perspective and personal style, and she is the reason you don't mess with Texas.

Image from NBC.com

NO NBC. NO. You cannot make a show about US Marshalls. That market is FULL thanks to the AWESOMENESS of Justified:

Image from fxnetworks.com

Raylan Givens is a SHITLOAD cooler than Annie Frost. Just look at her name. ANNIE FROST. That is not the name of a US Marshall. That's the name of someone on CandyLand! Meanwhile, Raylan Givens, that is name that commands respect. Read that synopsis again for NBC's Lady Marshall show. STUPID. Stupid. If you go to the site, you will see a trailer for the show. In it, they basically show the entire pilot in 3 minutes, which includes THE ENDING. So you don't even need to watch the show to see that she catches the guy after he shaves his head and she slips in and out of her "Texan" accent. Ridiculous. You don't even look good in your promo picture. Raylan looks badass. You look silly. You are like the Danica Patrick of US Marshalls. Useless and only a novelty because you're a lady. Raylan has a tie.You have bare midriff. See, you lose because you are only an object. Also, I will be willing to bet you won't have anyone as badass as Boyd Crowder, AKA the best bad guy/nemesis in TV ever. Justified wins on every level.

Tuesday and Wednesday I don't watch NBC anyway, so I'm not offended by them.

Thursday- Outsourced: Mid America Novelties sells products like whoopee cushions, foam fingers, and wallets made of bacon. Yes, this is the stuff upon which the American way of life is built, but try explaining that to someone who lives on the other side of the world. Well, that's exactly what Todd Donovan must do when he's sent to run the company's call center in India. Talk about culture shock, and not just for Todd's employees. While Todd has to teach them how to make the up-sell to the Deluxe Twin Beer Helmet, he's going to have to adapt as well. Like in a country where cows are sacred, perhaps you don't order a double cheeseburger. Wish him luck. Or as they say in India, Saubhagya.

Image from NBC.com

Again.. NO. NO NBC. What in the world were you thinking when you green-lit this show? "Hey, you know what's not a touchy subject in America right now? Job loss! Everyone has a job! So let's make a show about people overseas taking jobs that Americans could do! Oh don't worry execs, I know what you're thinking. Which country overseas? I hope it's one that people enjoy. That's where you're in luck! It's in INDIA!!! Where everyone is named Tom, Dick, Mary and Jane! What luck right?!?! You know what would be better? Supplanting a show about American small town government with this show! YAY US!"

I cannot stand calling customer service on anything because 9/10 times, I will have to talk to someone in India. They are never helpful. All they do is make me more frustrated due to their inadequate grasp of my language and their constantly calling me ma'am. This is the worst idea for a show ever. EVER.

So this is why NBC and I are breaking up. Go away forever until you get smart again NBC. I will pirate your shows that I enjoy from the internet instead.

Raylan Givens rules.

Zamo Has Abandonment Issues

Allow me to formally introduce my sweet innocent baby son.

His name is Zamo and he is a cat. It may be hard to tell since he's wearing his Avatar 3D glasses, but he's really a cat. I'm not one of those crazies that thinks my cat is my kid, but I am in my late early 20's and so he's the closest I want to come to a kid for a while. So for that fact, he's my son.

He wandered into my life 2 years ago on a day when I was having a semi-mental breakdown and he was just like this little angel that came out of the bushes and into my heart. I had no choice but to start feeding him and then I decided that he was a sweet little thing, so I would keep him. A vet check later, he was MINE.


That was in June of '08 and I never left home for more than a workday for quite sometime after that and Zamo was an angel. Then October came and it was my birthday. So I decided to go back home and visit my mom and friends back at home for the weekend. I left Boyfriend in charge of Zamo and felt insanely guilty for leaving my little kitty alone, but not really alone, but without me.

The weekend away was going well so far, but I was still missing the little dude, so I called Boyfriend to see how things were going. He assured me things were going well. So I continued on my weekend. Later that night I got a text that said "Zamo misses you." I said AWWH CUTE! And then I got a picture message back with a picture of what appeared to be my room, except it was covered in toilet paper, like some kids had TP'd my room. Confused, I texted Boyfriend WTF? and he said that Zamo had done that. It was still semi cute, even tho a brand new roll of toilet paper, which is something of a commodity for poor person like I was, and now it was strewn about my room.

Since then, whenever Zamo feels like he's not getting enough attention, he attacks toilet paper. If Boyfriend and I don't get up right away in the morning, the first thing I hear is the sound of ripping fabric. Now that Boyfriend is in Washington DC, Zamo apparently feels neglected. Even tho he is MINE, he prefers Boyfriend sometimes. Boyfriend doesn't have to go to work until noon, so he and Zamo snuggle in bed and laze about all morning and they enjoy it. So tonight when I was getting ready for bed, I noticed that my bathroom now looked like this:


COMPLETELY destroyed. Here's a video of how he does this...

Please note that although it looks like he's waiting for a command, I am nowhere near intelligent enough to teach my cat tricks, let alone to perform them on command. This was just really great timing with the BlackBerry camera in my old place's bathroom.

So instead of going to bed when I was planning on going to bed, I've stayed up an extra hour watching Burn After Reading and trying to gather my thoughts on how to present the Z-man to you. But he loves to stay up and watch TV too:

The Adventures of Boyfriend

As you may remember, Boyfriend is on a vacation from the crazy (me) on the East Coast, which leaves me and the Little One to fend for ourselves. Thankfully, we seem to be managing. We don't have to cook big dinners for us all this week, so we eat Special K for dinner. He very much loves to share with me:


Mmmmm Special Kitty. This is the only thing he will come and steal from you if you are eating it. Everything else he ignores for the most part, but Special K he goes bananas for. We've also been enjoying the giantness of the bed, as I've migrated to the middle and he now snuggles up on either side of me right next to my face, not just my feet like normal. So while we miss Boyfriend, we're enjoying the small freedoms.

Speaking of Boyfriend, he sent me some pictures of his trip around the city today, which of course I feel obligated to share with you. I don't know what he was doing while at these places, just that he was here. So they are presented without comment:


The train station for the trip into DC. I'm pretty sure Richard Petty photobombed this one. (far left)


The Washington Monument. Those clouds look super ominous. Like Independence Day clouds or something. Pretty sure aliens are looking to attack...



But just when the aliens were gonna attack, Lincoln showed up and was like NOT ON MY WATCH and just sat down and they backed off. His awesomeness is resounding. Also, I'm apparently incapable at presenting things without comment, since I made up a damn story about aliens and Lincoln. I'm sorry for lying.


Then a little later I think Boyfriend went to a museum, which I think because as you will see in the picture, he's standing by what can only be a giant dinosaur egg with a DO NOT TOUCH sign in front of it. Those mostly only live in museums. Anyway, he went to a probably museum and bought me a PRESENT! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I do love presents! I do not love riddles tho. And of course, he had to present the present with a riddle. I tried guessing but I was wrong.

Here is the present:


And here is what he sent along with it:

"What is in this box is said to protect you."

Here is what I guessed:

"Tampons?"

Here is what I guessed immediately after I sent the first guess:

"Ancient Egyptian condoms?"

Here is what he said back:

"No, it is an Egyptian said to protect YOU so I got it for you."

So now I have no idea what it is. I bet it's probably a tiny ancient Egyptian who is like one of those Grow-A-Dino sponges but is really a real mummy and so when I grow him he will become a real BIG mummy and he'll totally have my back. Jealous?

I really hope it's a Grow-A-Mummy. Best present ever.

I'M IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTION!!!!!

Ok not really. But today is a day of sads.

First- Boyfriend left to the East Coast this morning. He needs a break from the crazy go-go-go life of California. He went to visit his mom in our fair nation's capital, so he's going to get a full dose of history for the next week. I'm excited for and jealous of him. But I'm also sad because I don't get to see him for a week. Don't get me wrong, it will be nice not to have to clean up every inch of the house he touches for a week, (because Boyfriend is not a cleaner), but it will be sad to sleep in the big bed alone. Here is a dramatic representation of my dire bedroom loneliness.


Actually that might be the moment I realized I could stretch out like I was being drawn and quartered (thanks Tudors for teaching me that) and have the WHOLE bed all to myself. Then I fell asleep again because waking up at 6:45 AM to go to the airport blows. *Awkwardly good timing- Boyfriend just BBM'd me to tell me he's on the ground. I'm assuming that means he's landed and is not in the midst of a brawl.*

Second- LOST ends tonight. This is good and bad because for one, I will FINALLY know all the answers! Bad because LOST will be over :( I love LOST. I didn't start watching it when it first came on, but I got caught up quickly. My sophomore year of college, my roommate was a huge LOST fan and was watching the second season premiere while I was getting ready to go to Pref. I was listening and it sounded interesting, plus the rest of the world was talking about how awesome it was, so I decided to see what the fuss was about.

The next day at work I went to ABC.com and read the entire synopsis of the first episode. (Yes, I'm extremely productive at work) Just reading about the episode made me excited to watch it, so I went to Target that night and bought the first season on DVD. I was excited to watch it, but seeing as how I was in college, it was Thursday night and that meant it was time to go out. The next morning I woke up with a fat lip, which I learned I got when I was leaning out a window shouting at people and my arms buckled, sending my face plummeting into the window sill. Thank God for tequila because otherwise I'm sure I would have felt it. Looking like I had lost a fight, badly, I took a picture of my face and sent it to my coworker/supervisor at the office, who told me to stay home from work that day. Since I also didn't have class that day, I suddenly had a full day of watching LOST with a bag of frozen peas and carrots on my face ahead of me!

I don't think I moved much from the couch, as uncomfortable as it was, for 24 hours, since there were 24 episodes in the first season. I was HOOKED. Ever since then, I've watched every episode, even the crappy ones in the 3rd season, so I'm very much looking forward to finding out how it all ends later tonight. I do still love LOST, but I am finding myself much more involved with True Blood these days. Which is all for the best I suppose, seeing as how LOST is ending and True Blood is relatively new. That's me as Mary Ann Forrester for Halloween in the profile picture hee hee!

So, with Boyfriend gone and LOST ending, it's definitely a saddish day in the LOK. Melodramatically sad that is. We'll go over LOST later and we'll see how my intended clean up around the house goes with no progress impediment from Boyfriend ;)

The Name &The Sword

For the last 24 years of my life, I have been reminded that my name is not the most normal of names. Especially since the invention of Starbucks. I've gotten coffees for Cali, Kelly, Keallie, Kathy, etc. Once at Chili's I got my takeout order for KALLZ. No I'm serious, look...

So yes world, I get it. I have a weird name. Blame my mom. Seriously.

Short story of where my name came from- it's Swedish for Donald Duck. Longish story- Mom was reading Sports Illustrated in the summer of '85 and saw a story about Swedish tennis player, Bjorn Borg. It mentioned how the kids under 12 were staying at a camp named after the camp sponsor, Kalle Anka, which means Donald Duck comic books. I guess Mom decided I was going to not only become a boy, but a Swedish tennis prodigy boy at that, so she decided to name me after the sponsor. Or maybe she just thought I would spend my life babbling incoherently and never wear pants. Maybe she was onto something...

Ever since Mom's stroke of genius, I've had a lifetime of explaining that it's K-AL-EE, not Kelly or Kaylee and I've always had to spell it out for orders over the phone, reservations at a restaurant, everywhere. So that brings us up to speed and takes us to present day.

Today I had a hair appointment at Ulta. I walk in and there are two girls, one with blue, one with pink stripes in their hair. One is on the phone, one is doing nothing. Both look up and notice me, neither do anything. I don't respond well to being ignored so I sigh and put my purse on their counter. Blue Hair asks what my name is, so I tell her. "Kallie Parsons." She nods and starts to leave a message for whoever she'd been calling. I browse nail polishes aimlessly until she says "I'm sorry, you said it was Sasha?"

"Uhmm no, Kal-lie."

"Oh ok.....uhmmm is it Leah Jannoitz?"

"NO! KALLIE PARSONS."

"OH! Uhmmm uhhh, oh here it is, your name is weird!"

"Excuse me?"

"They spelled it weird in here, sorry it's spelled wrong, that's why I couldn't find it. They spelled it weird."

"You haven't even asked me how to spell it, how do you know it's misspelled? What if that's how I spell my name?!"

"Oh it's K-A-L-L-I-E. So weird!"

"That's how I spell my name. Did you really just tell me that my name is weird and wrong!?!"

"No, I didn't mean that..."

"Maybe I should go get my hair cut somewhere else!..."

"No, no, I'm sorry..."

"Whatever."

So with Blue Hair insulting my name, I'm now Captain Grumpers. If you have never been to a salon at Ulta, it's not like a normal salon. Ulta is essentially a makeup grocery store. So there's not a big waiting area or anything. There's just products and a store all around. So I started browsing random things that I really have no intention of buying, but they're nearby and I don't think I'll have to wait long. I see my stylist come around the corner with a guy who is talking her ear off. The stylists always walk their clients to the counter to check out, so I'm glad to see she's almost ready for me.

Mr. Chatty is a big Hawaiian looking guy. Pacific Islander at least. He's a chatterbox. This is coming from a chatterbox herself, this guy talks too much. I'm not listening to anything really, just annoy-edly browsing philosophy body washes waiting for him to shut the hell up and let me have my appointment time. Then suddenly I hear my stylist say "This coming from the guy who almost killed his brother." HELLO CONVERSATION! I'm all ears!

So now that I'm listening, he proceeds to tell Blue Hair the story of the time he almost killed his brother. It started out "Yeah, I almost chopped his head off!" My brain puts on the brakes and calls bullshit. But I tell my brain to be quiet because I know it's bullshit and I want to hear the rest of this imaginary story he's telling to impress girls. The story continued that one night at 3AM, his drunk brother had forgotten his keys to the house and had broken in via a window. Mr. Chatty woke up and heard this ruckus and grabbed his SWORD. My brain tells me, "Well no shit he has a sword, he's Asian, he's probably a ninja too!" This is because I work well with stereotypes. In fact I think they are a real timesaver.

Anyway, Mr. Chatty is now telling them that he was standing at the edge of his doorway and he's poised, ready to "chop the burglar's head off." He explains he HAD to arm himself with the sword since he doesn't know what the burglar is armed with. "I mean, he could have had a gun, but if I chopped his head off with my sword, he'd have no time to react." WHAT?! Maybe he really is a ninja! No, of course not, this is bullshit. But let's look at this scenario. Since when is a sword WAY better protection than a gun? If someone wanted to kill me and jumped out of the dark with a sword, I'd be like WTF do you have a sword for? Is this Kill Bill? Then run away while they chased me and tried to slash me with their sword. Now if they had a gun, I would run away immediately and probably be shot as I was running. They wouldn't even have to move. Guns>Swords.

He brags some more about how great his sword skills are and when Blue Hair gets bored enough to ask him what stopped him from chopping his brother's head off, he tells her "He made a grunt." HE MADE A FUCKING GRUNT. Grunting is NOT a recognizable trait! If I hear a grunt, it could be a bear, it could be a dinosaur, it could be my sister, or it could be a burglar. A guttural noise is not something I know instantly as belonging to a specific person. It is at this point when I realize that this douche is completely full of shit and the real story is he was probably lying motionless in bed hoping that the burglar was a T-Rex and it's vision was based on movement and he would remain unnoticed if he continued to stay perfectly still. Thankfully, this is when Pink Hair tells me I can go get settled in my stylists chair.

Of course it takes Mr. Chatty another 5 minutes to finally put away his fake stories and leave, during which two people come by and apologize for the wait. Later during my shampoo my stylist tells me that he likes to tell everyone he's "a professional drug dealer" because he works in a pharmacy. This douchey tid-bit seals it for me that he really is completely full of shit. So now I'm not Captain Grumpers anymore because I've successfully debunked a douchebag in my head, and I'm always proud when I prove people wrong, even if it's just secretly.

Douchebags never prosper.

Beacuse 140 Characters Is NEVER Enough

FINALLY. A place for me to come and share my many LOK stories that I just can't condense down to 2-3 140 character tweets. There will be many to come. We will even go back and revisit some classics, like the time I thought I was being robbed at the bank by a foreign guy, my cat's morning ritual, and other fantastical gems that make my life so fucking entertaining.

Right now I have to go to a lot that has a giant no trespassing sign on it, trespass by driving R/C cars around on it, then scurry back home to go get my haircut with a new hairdresser, then scurry over to a facial party. I'm sure one or two stories will happen and I promise if they're any good, I'll tell you all about them.

Just as a side note, but a pretty important one, nothing I write here will be made up. Every single thing I talk about will have actually happened. Unless it's a dream I had, in which case the dreamed events probably didn't happen, but the dream did, so it's semi-made up, but also semi-real.

I just love loopholes!