Tag: life

Keeping It on the Lighter Side

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

elvis_lamp

Sometimes I come up with a post that I want to do for Monday Megalomania and I think it’ll be really good. And then after thinking on it for a while I end up changing my mind, shoving it to the back burner of “not right now”.

The reason?

It’s too heavy.

I don’t mean that in specific gravity terms. I mean it in subject terms. I mean that it’s kind of a serious business post and upon review, I think that maybe it’s not the best time for that. Or I think that maybe it’s a little TOO revealing. Sure the goal of this blog is for me to be honest about my life and my work and who I am as a person, but there’s a line I’ve drawn in the sand that sometimes I’m willing to blur and sometimes I’m willing to crossover and sometimes I fill it with cement. I want to be honest and revealing, but I only want to reveal so much. Like a burlesque dancer, people only THINK they see everything. That’s me on this blog. I give you enough to get the idea, but I don’t show you everything.

Getting back the heavy.

Maybe it’s because I’m a Capricorn and Capricorn’s are known for being very serious that I don’t want to be seen that way. I deal with much of my life with humor and I don’t want anyone to get the impression that I take things too seriously, or worse, that I take myself too seriously. I want my sense of humor (which many people feel is one of my few shining qualities) to show through.

Some blog posts are too serious for that. Or at least I think they are. I don’t think I can inject enough humor into them to make them worth reading. They’re worth talking about, some of the topics anyway, but if I can’t do it my way, then I don’t want to do it.

And so those posts are put to the side until a time comes when I think it’s okay to be a little more serious or until I think I can be light enough to balance the heavy or, in the more rare occasion, I think this bit of information is okay to share.

I feel weird about it sometimes. Like maybe I’m cheating. But since I’m the one that made the rules in the first place, and since I’m free to change the rules any time I want, then I guess it’s really impossible for me to cheat.

That’s right. This blog is one big game of Calvinball.

And I think I score more points going light.

Winner!

It’s The Getting There That I Hate

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

A CTA brown line train leaves Madison/Wabash s...

I like to visit places, but I don’t like the traveling it takes to get there.

This past weekend, I took the train to Chicago and then hopped a cab to the hotel for Cubs Con. Now, driving to Chicago, I don’t mind. Last year I drove and stayed in the hotel and all was groovy. Not knowing where I’m going sometimes gets me riled, but most of the time, I breeze right through it. But taking the train and taking a cab, that makes it more of a trip. Control has been wrenched from me. I now have no control over when I make it to town. I have to rely on someone I don’t know to drive me to the hotel and then pay them for it. It raises my level of anxiety.

Airplanes are no better. I’m impatient. When I get on and sit down, everyone else needs to sit the hell down, and the show needs to get on the road. Or in the air, as the case may be. Same when we land. Get your shit and get off the plane. It shouldn’t take you twenty minutes to get together your shit. It didn’t take that long to stow it, dammit. And God help the world if I ever get on one of those planes that get stuck on a tarmac for more than twenty minutes. There will be blood.

Once I’m in the air or on the train, I’m good. I plug in my music (or in the case of flying, I prefer cartoons), read or write, and mostly relax.

Once the plane lands or the train pulls in, the anxiety comes back and doesn’t abate until I get to the hotel. Once I’m at the hotel and get through the whole checking in process and get to the room, I’m good to go again. And while I’m there doing whatever I came to do, I have a great time.

The anxiety starts all over again when it comes time to go home, starting with the checking out process.

I admit it. I’m kind of a bratty traveler. I’m not bratty to the other travelers (usually), but I feel kind of sorry for anyone traveling with me. It’s kind of like entertaining and reassuring a two-year old (hence the need for cartoons while flying). My tantrums are quiet ones and I can be quite short with people and I might murder the other passengers in my mind many times over, but for the most part, I’m kind of a whiny handful.

Traveling on my own, there’s nobody to wrangle me, so I’m on my own to behave myself.

By the time you read this, my trip will be over. But I’m typing it up the Thursday before. So you won’t know if I survived (or got arrested) until tomorrow’s post, I suppose, because I should be writing it today.

If you don’t hear from me by tomorrow, start getting together the bail money.

I’m Pretty Much Kind of a Bad Person

~ Kiki Writes ~ 2 Comments

English: Poison Symbol

We’ve discussed before all of the bad words I am, but I think I should just come clean and admit that I’m pretty much kind of a bad person. You just don’t know it because I don’t come right out and act like it. I want to, but I don’t.

The huge benefit about conducting so much social interaction via the Internet is the backspace button, so I’m able to phrase things in a socially acceptable, just so way. You also can’t see my face so you have no idea how many times during the day I roll my eyes. Because I do. A lot. To the point that without an occasional application of WD-40, stuff starts grinding up in there.

For example, I don’t think anyone’s kids are that damn cute. Hey, there, parents. You’re supposed to love your kids and think they’re the greatest thing on the planet. That’s kind of part of your job description. But they’re not my kids, so don’t expect any return in kind. Even if I like your kids and agree that they are pretty cool, I will begin rolling my eyes at kid-bragging overload. Some bragging is justified. I know that and I’m cool with it. But there’s a line that parents can so easily cross on any given day and I want to respond to their 15th Instagram showcasing how absolutely adorable their offspring is by saying, “Dude. I get it. Your kid is the best thing ever. Now slow that roll and post a picture of your lunch. I’d like a change of subject now.”

Here’s another good example: people getting sick. People do get sick. It’s winter. That’s what happens. And I’m not picking on all sick people, mind you, just the ones that post about how they’re sick and they NEVER get sick.

Except for the last several times they’ve complained that they’re sick.

This also goes for the people who say they never go to the doctor except for the documented evidence that they’ve been to the doctor more in the last six months than I’ve been in the last decade.

It’s no big deal in the grand scheme, but this shit annoys me. It’s humble bragging/sympathy gaining garbage and it’s pretty damn tiresome and I roll my eyes every time. Sorry, kids, I can’t help it. I’m not much in the way of sympathetic to begin with. Trying to milk that bone like that ain’t going to get you marrow. I’m just saying.

I’ve probably rolled my eyes at every person I know. You put it on Twitter and/or Facebook and I read it, it’s probably happened. Your thoughts on child-rearing, gun rights, drug use, the president, the Baseball Hall of Fame, your favorite TV show, Nickelback, gay marriage, taxes, hunting, the NHL, unions, Channing Tatum, teachers, rich people, the Superbowl, Nicki Minaj, the police, smoking, naps…anything and everything, has probably elicited an eye roll from me at some point.

I’m an equal opportunity asshole. I think bad things about everyone at some point.

Here’s the thing. I fully expect the behavior to be reciprocated. If I run off at the mouth, on the Internet or in real life, then I expect to cause some eyes to roll. It’s only fair. And I’m sure I deserve it, too. I’m not immune to sounding like a complete idiot or a total jackass.

I know I’m not the only one out there that’s a pretty much kind of bad person.

2013: Getting Louder

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

Electronic red megaphone on stand.

My goal for 2013 is to be louder.

 

I want to be louder about who I am and what I want and what I’m doing.

 

I want to be louder in my support of my friends and the really cool things they do and the cool people they are.

 

I want to be louder in my support of my family, too.

 

I want to be louder about needing help and support.

 

I want to be louder about being a writer.

 

I want to be louder about being a Rerun Junkie.

 

I want to be louder about being a bad fan.

 

I want to be louder about being a fat girl.

 

I want to be louder about being a fat girl belly dancing.

 

I want to be louder about my fashion sense.

 

I want to be louder about getting what I want.

 

I want to be louder about having a good time.

 

In short, I want 2013 to be one hell of a noisy year.

 

So, About 2012…

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

Pat Hughes

I was going to do some kind of reflective, year-end post about 2012, but I’ll be honest…I don’t really feel like it.

Most of it was pretty boring. I did boring, routine things. I struggled to pay my bills, used up a big part of my savings, felt like a complete failure, failed to meet many of the writing goals, and totally lacked any kind of success on the professional front (and most of the personal front, too). Really nothing to get into or write the Internet about.

But I did rarely have the occasion to do some cool things. I went to Cubs Con and Casino Night. I saw the Cubs lose their 100th game of the season, but Pat Hughes waved at me and that totally kills any of that pain. Let me repeat that. Pat Hughes waved at me.

I was able to hang out with friends I hadn’t seen in a long time (Hi, Becca!) and I met some really cool people, too (Hi, Harry!). I reconnected via social media with some people I haven’t seen in ages (Hi, Josh!) and I met some really cool people that way, too (Hi, everybody!).

I found out just what I’d do to try to make a life and a career my way and just how frustrating and hard that can be (and just how frustrating and hard I can be, too).

I changed a little, grew a little. It wasn’t all fantastic and glamorous. Most of it wasn’t. But it wasn’t an absolute waste either.

2012 was okay. And it’s a good thing I went through it because I have a feeling that 2013 won’t be much different.

I’m ready.

The Night Before Grinchmas

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

Grinchmas 2012When I first started doing the Grinchmas thing a couple of years ago, I didn’t realize it would become an actual thing. At the time it was a reaction to all of the Christians demanding that I say “Merry Christmas” and then telling me I wasn’t allowed to celebrate their holiday because I didn’t belong to their religion (note: I have never had a Jew do this to me; apparently it’s a Jesus related thing). So I started telling people Rob Whoville! instead because I wanted them to embrace the meaning behind the month of December, let their hearts grow three sizes, and stop being dicks.

Yeah, that effort has pretty much been ignored as I ended up shaming a bunch of people on Facebook for crying persecution and saying they’re not allowed to say “Merry Christmas” DURING HANUKKAH. Seriously. It’s things like this that just aggravate my spiteful spirit. The more you say I have to, the more I do the opposite.

Anyway, that’s not what I meant about Grinchmas becoming a thing. It’s become a thing FOR ME.

Without much intention, I’ve found myself attaching behaviors and beliefs to the concept and forming traditions in regards to my made up holiday. Giving of myself is a big part of it. It comes from being broke. I can’t buy wonderful, awe-inspiring gifts and frankly, I shouldn’t have to. Instead, I give little things that I think someone will like and/or use. I want to give useful things. I want to make things for people.

This year, if I didn’t make the gift, then I bought it with Amazon gift cards I’ve been hoarding. Or I spent as little as possible on ready made items to assemble into a gift. That’s right. I tried to not spend any actual money on anyone. I wanted to give as much from myself as I could without coming across as stingy or cheap or in general an asshole.

Now, I probably will anyway. People are so conditioned in this day and age to go broke proving their love for friends and family by buying them as much as possible. Because I didn’t, I’m going to look like a dick. The exception might be my nieces because I’ve been giving them various handmade items for Christmas most of their lives. They’re used to Aunt Kiki not spending money on them, but spending time and creativity on them instead. (Besides, those kids are spoiled anyway; they don’t need me spending any more money on them.)

I’m not knocking anyone else’s holiday celebrations. If it makes you feel good by going into debt for your loved ones, then hey, rock on. I don’t pay your bills. Everyone should get to celebrate the way they want to. I’m just saying that with Grinchmas solidifying into a real holiday practice for me, I’m going up against what is considered normal and proper for the holidays. It’s not going to be understood by most people.

I’m going to be labeled a cheap asshole for celebrating this way. That’s what I’m saying.

And I’m kind of “Oh well” about it. Because it means something to me.

Grinchmas is just as made up as any other holiday. I’m just the only one practicing on it.

The moral of the story is December holidays are about more than free stuff, but in the end, we all like free stuff, so just be happy if you get free stuff from me. It means I care.

How Do I Get Popular?

~ Kiki Writes ~ 2 Comments

Popular Electronics Mar 1970

I’m looking for some serious advice about how to get popular because I am clueless as to how to make this happen.

You see, as someone attempting to make a career of writing, it helps to have a fanbase…aka…to be popular. This is not a thing that comes naturally to me. It might have to do with my social awkwardness. It might have to do with not liking to be the center of attention. It might have to do with me being a Capricorn. It could be a number of reasons, really. But what I’m looking for is solid advice to help me overcome these reasons and make myself popular.

I realize that there could be some serious work involved and that’s fine. I don’t mind hard work. I realize this could take me out of my comfort zone. That’s fine. I need to do more of that. I realize that there might not be any advice to give that could help me and I accept that. I don’t like it, but I accept it and it doesn’t hurt to ask.

So, I’m asking.

How can I make myself popular (short of giving out blowjobs, handjobs, or cash, or suddenly becoming drop dead gorgeous because good looks draws popularity on its own)? What do I need to do to make more people like me and be interested in me and my work? How can I make myself more appealing to the masses?

Seriously. All advice welcome.

I need all the help I can get.

Socially Awkward Kind of Gal

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

socialization aftermath

I have many great abilities and talents, but social skills are not one of them. The concern about this has been present since I was very small. The school thought I was very bright and wanted me to skip kindergarten. My mother, while she agreed that I was smart, declined the offer. She didn’t think I was ready socially.

It can be argued that I’m still not ready socially.

I do much better online than in person. I’m very comfortable with words, reading and interpreting them and using them to communicate. I get the opportunity to pick my words more carefully and say exactly what I mean. In person, I feel under pressure to communicate so things don’t always come out right. Not to mention that whole lack of tact thing I have going on. Through writing I can at least catch more of those gaffes.

I’m better when I’m with people I know and am comfortable with. There’s less pressure to communicate because these people know what I mean and if they don’t, they’re more likely to ask what the hell I’m talking about or call me out for being tactless and make me rephrase my thoughts. I’m not as concerned with not knowing how to socialize because those people KNOW I don’t know how to socialize and they forgive me (or at least tolerate me).

With new people, the pressure is on. I come across as rather shy at first because I’m trying to figure people out, trying to see what I can get away with humor-wise. I’m watching the new people to try to figure out how to appropriately interact with them because I honestly don’t know. I’m terrible at reading social cues. I have no idea the best way to end a conversation with someone when I’m done talking. I’m not always sure when another person ends a conversation with me. And when the conversation is over, hours later, I’m wandering if I did okay or if the person I talked with thinks I’m weird. I am weird, but I don’t want to come off as creepy weird.

Part of my problem, I know, is that I don’t interpret information like other people. My roommate loves to point out that I don’t think like normal people and she’s right and I think that’s part of my socialization problem.

The rest of it, I think, has to do with insecurity. I am insecure in places. I know myself too well not to be. I know my faults and when I’m interacting with people, it sometimes sets off that part of my brain. I wonder why these people are talking to me and what they really think about me. I know I shouldn’t care about what other people think of me, but in a way I do. I don’t want them to misinterpret my awkwardness and lack of social skills as something else. I have plenty of poor qualities to turn them off, but I want them to be turned off by the qualities I have, not the qualities they think I have.

I try to practice socializing. I keep thinking that if I keep using what little skills I have, they will develop and I will get better at it. When I was working part-time at Wal-Mart, the regular interaction with other human beings really helped. Since then, there is so much rust that’s built up and my once thriving skills have atrophied with disuse. When you’re not a social creature by nature, force is the only way you can build up these skills and keep them working. I haven’t been forced to use them and haven’t been forcing myself to use them.

And it shows.

I’m going to keep practicing, though. I’ll find ways to force myself to use my social skills and then I’ll force myself to use them. No doubt I’ll still be awkward, but if I could be less awkward, I’d be happy with that.

After all, communication is important.

10 More Things About Me

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

Number 10

I couldn’t think of a good post for today, so when in doubt, go for a list!

1. I can sew, but only by hand. I’ve made pillows, pouches, and costumes, but none with a sewing machine. I can’t work a sewing machine at all. My grandma tried to teach me when I was a kid, but I didn’t really want to learn. In the years since, I’ve tried a few times to learn how to use it, but it thwarts me every time. I think that’s karma from not paying attention when I had the chance to learn from a master.

2. I have trouble with names and faces sometimes. Sometimes I can ran remember someone after meeting them one time. Sometimes I can be around a person for years and still not remember who they are. Ask my sister. When someone we went to school with friends me on Facebook, she’s likely to get a text from me saying, “Who is this? Why do I know them?” She’s my name-face memory bank.

3. I like trivia about movies more than I like actually watching them. I like useless knowledge in general, but for whatever reason, I love movie trivia. I’ll read facts about movies I’ll never watch in a million years.

4. I used to be able to do a really good impression of Saddam Hussein from South Park. I’d recite his dialogue from the movie for laughs.

5. I’ve never been to Disney World. My only trip to Florida was tagging along with my grandparents on a business trip. We drove there and back. Twenty-two hours one way. And it rained every day at noon while we were there. I wasn’t that impressed with Florida and I no longer have much desire to go to Disney World.

6. I like organizational stuff. Bins, folder, cubbies, labels, all of that jazz. I like the feeling of being organized like that. Ignore the fact that my dresser is covered with stuff I haven’t put away yet.

7. I’ve only had two ear infections in my life. One when I was three and one when I was eleven. My sister, on the other hand, had them all the time.

8. I don’t like Kool-Aid. Another thing that drove my mom nuts because I wasn’t like other kids (she ran a daycare so the more kids she could get to eat and drink the same things, the better). I would only drink one flavor called Rainbow Punch and when they stopped making it, I never drank any Kool-Aid again.

9. I’ve got a scar on my nose from being hit in the face with a ceramic humming bird. I was working at Wal-Mart at the time, standing on a ladder, rearranging a shelf with gift items, most of them various kinds of small ceramic figures in boxes. The shelf I was working on broke, several boxes slid towards me, and one with a humming bird hit me in the face, splitting open the bride of my nose and nearly knocking me off the ladder. I then ended up helping a customer while holding some tissue to my bleeding nose because I didn’t have time to properly doctor myself before the guy came up to my counter. He didn’t seem to mind that I was bleeding, though.

10. I’ve been told that I have a great voice for phone sex. So maybe I wasn’t asked to do all of those in-store announcements at Wal-Mart because it would be easiest for me to do it as opposed to someone else.