The Night Before Grinchmas

December 24, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

When 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?

December 17, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ 2 Comments

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.

Fat and Fabulous

December 10, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

My bathroom picture skills leave something to be desired.

Many people on my Twitter timeline watched the Victoria Secret Fashion Show last week. Of those that watched, the comments ranged from the impracticality of the lingerie shown to men drooling to women complaining about how good the women looked and how they paled in comparison to men complaining about the women complaining.

I was eating ice cream and watching reruns of The A-Team at the time, but I did catch a snippet of it and saw a woman in elaborate tiger lingerie and my first thought was, “Holy hell, I couldn’t wear that. I’d get shot by some big game hunter or a redneck drinking shine on his porch.” That probably wasn’t supposed to be my first thought, but I’m crap about getting it right the first time.

Here’s the thing, I don’t watch the Victoria Secret Fashion Show because it holds no interest for me. I can’t fit into their lingerie, practical or impractical, I don’t really need lingerie, and though I do appreciate the female form, their models are too skinny for me. It creeps me out if I can see your spine when you bend over. You might be a very lovely person and we might get along swimmingly, but still. Bones go on the inside. That’s just one of my irrational quirks.

And I certainly don’t watch it to punish myself. There’s no sense in me looking at underwear I’m never going to fit into or compare myself to women I’m never going to look like. I was built to plow fields, so I’ll never lose enough weight to be thin. Being a size 4 is impossible if my bone structure won’t allow it. My self-esteem is kind of important and I try to go out of my way to nurture it. Watching HM Murdock fly helicopters and do impressions of Paul Lynde and aggravate BA Baracus is way better for my self-image than watching thin women walk around in their underwear. But that’s just me.

I try to maintain a mindset of fat and fabulous. I try to make that be my center. I can be both. I realize most people don’t believe this and in fact, try to fight it as hard as they can, and that’s cool. Everyone has their own agenda and this one is mind. I feel it’s better for my mental health to rock the body I’m currently using. If this body loses forty pounds, then I’ll rock it forty pounds lighter (I’ve done it before). If this body loses 100 pounds, I’ll rock that one, too (but I bet I’d be able to see my spine, so I’d probably spend a good portion of my time creeping myself out, too). The same would be done if I gained twenty pounds.

If it’s mine, then I’m going to own it. I realize that really offends people that want me to change to fit the ideal. I realize that it automatically puts me at a huge disadvantage in the realm of romance because society dictates that I’m not allowed to have what I want unless I conform or am willing to settle for much less than I want. I realize that I’m going to have to be harshly judged until the end of time and have to constantly correct people’s misconceptions.

But I also realize that I’m not the loser in this situation either. Your hang-ups about my looks aren’t my problem. It’s a consequence of being fabulous.

So good on Victoria and her secrets and her model and her questionable underwear.

But it doesn’t do a thing for me.

Socially Awkward Kind of Gal

December 3, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

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

November 26, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

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.

The Lives of Other Grown-Ups

November 19, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

It’s already been established in previous posts that I’m not very good at being a grown-up. I didn’t choose a conventional road through life. I’ve shirked many responsibilities that other people think I should have. I don’t have the typical, societal endorsed grown-up life.

So living this non-conventional life, I often wonder about the “normal” grown-ups I know and their lives.

For example, I know many people that work in various offices. They have cubes and they stare at spreadsheets all day and they complain about their coworkers and it’s all very normal and very adult. And I find myself hearing about their lives and wondering, is this what they wanted? Is this what they had in mind when the went to college? Is this their goal?

Of course, I don’t know and I don’t want to unintentionally offend anyone by asking. I don’t want to put down their job because it’s their life and so their job is important. And I’m not one to go around saying one job is more important than another. But I do wonder if this is what they always wanted to do.

I know that for some people, it isn’t. They took the jobs their in now because of other parts of their lives, other goals they wanted to achieve and the job they took was a way for them to do that. But some people, I wonder.

I wonder how some people can do it. I worked in an office and I didn’t care for it. I thought I’d like it and I didn’t. It wasn’t the people, it was just the job. It didn’t work with me. And the idea of being trapped in a job like that because I need to make money to pay the bills makes me break out in a cold sweat.

I wonder why it doesn’t have the same effect on them. Are they more mature than I am? Do they understand that common thread of normal life that I’ve somehow missed that working a drudge job is just part of the game? Or do they even see it as a drudge job? Is it something fulfilling to them? Does it fill something in them that I don’t have empty in myself and that’s why the idea of a grown up job gives me the hives?

I don’t know, but I regularly ask myself these thing.

I want to be a writer because it’s something I think I’m good at. It’s one of my few talents. It solves my problem of wanting to be so many things when I grow up by letting me bypass the actual time needed to be educated to do them and just writing about them instead. I get to live vicariously through my characters. I want to be my own boss. (Okay, that’s only sort of because I still have to answer to other folks like editors and such, but in general, I’m the one that figures out what I’m working on and what my timetable is for the most part.)

I’ve thought about abandoning that in favor of the “normal” life and being a grown-up, but I just can’t bring myself to go through with it.

I think I may be allergic.

But that doesn’t stop me from wondering about other grown-ups and their lives. No matter what, I hope they’re happy.

Bored Now

November 12, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

To a certain extent, I thrive on routine. My mental health appreciates it when I get up and go to sleep about the same time most days. I like having a pretty regular work schedule. There’s some comfort in knowing what I’m going to do the next day. I’m more productive when I have a good idea of what kind of time I’m going to have during the week.

In smaller ways, I like keeping a certain rhythm to particular times of my day. I watch the same succession of reruns in the afternoon. I take my shower at about the same time every morning. I go through the same basic routine in the shower every morning.

I like a certain amount of repetition. It’s comforting.

That said, I’m not immune to ruts. I’m in one right now, as a matter of fact.

Liking routine doesn’t mean I want to be doing the same things ALL the time. It means I like doing the same things most of the time. The rest of the time I like to do other things to break from the routine so I don’t resent the routine.

When I’m in a rut, I find I get very bored very easily. Usually, I don’t have time to get bored. I work seven days a week and when I’m not working, there’s usually something else I can think of that I want to do. Something fun. But I can’t think of fun right now. Fun costs money (most of the time) and I can’t afford to spend much of that right now. Fun usually involves other people, but the other people I know are either too far away or too busy doing other things.

And all of the potential fun sounds either boring or too much trouble. When I start to do something that should be fun and distracting and a change, within minutes a voice in my head is saying, “Bored now.”

Everything gets boring when I’m in a rut. I’m tired of looking at the clothes in my closet. I want new ones. Most of the clothes I have are easily over five years old, if not more. I haven’t had the money to get new clothes for a long time and I’m aching for a new wardrobe. New clothes would help me bust out of the rut.

It doesn’t take much to get me out of one. A little nudge, a little push, a little change. A little deviation from the routine. Like new clothes. I ordered a new cardigan the other night and you have no idea how excited I am to have this new article of clothing. It’s enough to make some of my clothing new again.

It’s a tiny step to breaking out of my current rut.

A new pair of jeans. Some new jewelry wire so I can try my hand at wire rings. A little bit of Christmas shopping. Playing cards at my aunt’s house. These are things I’m all looking forward to, things that have the potential to bust me totally out of my rut in the next few weeks. I’m in a rut, but it’s not that deep yet to require major moves. Yet.

If I let it go much longer, though…

Because though I might wear quite the groove in the ground with my routine, that doesn’t mean I want to live there.

Pessimistic Pete

November 5, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ 1 Comment

When I was little, my mom used to call me Pistol Pete (no, I don’t know why; my family is random like that). Pessimistic Pete probably would have been a better nickname. At least a more accurate one.

Yes, I have a tendency towards pessimism. If you believe in astrology, then you can chalk up this trait up to being a Capricorn. If you don’t, then, I dunno, chalk it up to reinforcement or self-fulfilling prophecy if you believe in psychology.

I wouldn’t call myself overly pessimistic. Mostly I’m a realist and that makes me seem more pessimistic. That’s because I look at my past to help determine my realistic possibilities in the future and my track record isn’t that great. I hope for the best, expect the worst, and I’m delight if things turn out okay. That’s because rarely (so rarely that I can’t really remember any examples) do I get the best. I don’t usually even get the good. The bad is more likely and I know it’s more likely and because I know it’s more likely and that’s what I tend to expect, then I’m seen as quite the downer.

People have told me to think positively and you know, I do. Like I said, I hope for the best. In my head, I focus on the good, the positive and I try to project that energy. But there’s a part of me that knows no matter how hard I try to think positively, I do not attract positive energy. I just don’t.

I work at being less pessimistic. I try not to think of the worst FIRST. I focus on the good and the positive and then slowly let in reality until I get a decent, realistic expectation. I try to keep the overly negative thoughts out of the mix. But there are times when I’m prone to excessive pessimism. Sometimes I think EVERYTHING will end badly. Rocks fall, everyone dies.

It’s these times that I look at the state of things. I look at my mess of a life. I look at the financial hole I dug trying to pursue a career. I look at the decisions I’ve made and the risks I’ve taken with little or no support and/or not enough planning. I look at the physical ideals imposed upon women that I’ll never meet. I look at the responsibilities that I’ve taken on that never should have been foisted on me in the first place (and God forbid I should have refused them or else be labeled as selfish). I look at all of this stuff and more and I think “This is the life I’ve created. There is no hope here. There’s no point in being optimistic. This is it.”

I don’t like those times. I feel very alone during those times. I feel very tired during those times. And I feel very frustrated at those times because as tired and alone as I feel, as much as I want to say “fuck it” and drive on, just accept my reality and trudge through it until the end, I know I won’t. Because there’s something in me that won’t give up. There’s a little part of me that struggles and insists on looking on the bright side and striving FOR that bright side.

It’s annoying little bit of me, to be sure.

In the end, though, I’m glad it’s there. It puts the pessimism back in its cubby and insists that I get my head out of the self-pity oven and get on with it. There’s no time for this shit. I’ve got some living to do.

So, yes, I am pessimistic and have a tendency to be overly pessimistic sometimes, but I’m not nearly as pessimistic as you think I am. Because I fight not to be.

Aren’t you glad I haven’t surrendered?

The One and Only

October 29, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I’ve grown quite accustomed to being just another face in the crowd. There’s part of me that really digs that kind of anonymity. I didn’t try for it; it just came naturally. There’s nothing particularly spectacular about me. I don’t stand out (since I stopped coloring my hair like I belonged in a package of Skittles). I’m not very memorable. In fact, most people don’t even remember or know my name. Around my little town I’m most easily identified as “Haws’s daughter” or “Lindsay’s sister” (the exception being Wal-Mart, where I’m a rock star, but that’s a different blog post).

So it’s really weird for me to think that I’m the only person in the country with my name.

According to How Many of Me, I’m it. Based on their math and taking into account the spelling of my first name and the spelling of my last name, one person or less has my name. As a fat girl, I certainly don’t qualify as less, so I must be the ONE.

What’s funny about this is that it wasn’t what my mother was striving for when she named me. Yes, she didn’t take popularity into account in the sense that she didn’t want me to have the same name as six other girls in my class (sorry, Jennifers). Christin was actually not her first choice; Carrie was. But when her roommate in the hospital named her baby Carrie, Mom went with the Christin. And the spelling wasn’t intentionally unique. Mom just thought that’s how it was supposed to be spelled…Chris-tin. Way to go, Hooked on Phonics. But my mom wasn’t the only one. Over 11,000 people have their name spelled the same way. I’ve met four of them.

And my last name, well…it is what it is. There’s only about 4,000 people with this last name with this spelling in the country, according to the website. I can’t help that.

But it’s the combination of the two is that really puts my name in the unique category. I am it.

WordPress stats are handy because they tell me what searches people do to find my blog. People get here a lot of ways, some of them very strange. But nothing grabs my attention quite like my name popping up in the search terms.

When you Google my name, first it will ask if you meant someone else (Christian or Christine Haws is usually pretty popular). Then the first five entries will be all about me. My Twitter, my blog, an old website, a blog guest post, my Smashwords page. Then the other names start to filter in.

Here’s the thing. If I’m the only one with my name and the people doing the searching spelled everything right, then that means people who come to my blog searching my name are looking for ME. When you go through life largely ignored, it’s bizarre to think someone Googled you.

Sometimes I think it’s a little creepy, but then I’m also prone to paranoia.

Granted, I imagine most of those hits are people who know me who can’t remember my blog name or haven’t bookmarked it or aren’t following it (that’s right, you feel shame about not bookmarking me). But odds are at least one of those searches was done by a stranger.

It’s a concept that’s kind of difficult for me to grasp.

But then, I’m strange like that.

It comes with being the one and only me.

A Word About My Politics

October 22, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I typically don’t talk politics. I find the conversations become unpleasant and anything but enlightening. Truly I think they bring out the stupid and make me change my opinions about people too frequently.

That all being said, I think I should explain a little bit of my political position so at the very least I have something people have a basic understanding of where I stand.

First of all I identify as an independent since I have no desire to belong to any party. I like the sound of it. In-dee-pen-dent. Free. I’m not bound by the rules of a party. No party lines to follow. I don’t suffer any second hand candidate embarrassment. I’m not compelled to vote for a particular candidate just because they’re on my “team” (a huge fallacy we’ve got going on with voters here; they’ve got government confused with sports). I’ve voted for Democrats and Republicans and Independents and Green Party members. All on the same ballot once. It was glorious. I vote for whoever I want to and for my own reasons. I have a nice, objective view of the races. I like it.

Second of all if anyone asks, I say I’m a moderate. I ride that line. I admit to being more conservative on some issues and more liberal on others, but overall, I’m in the middle. People can get pretty aggravated about that, demanding I pick a side. Sorry, scooter. I found me a really comfortable dip in this fence and that’s where I’m sitting.

Lastly, this isn’t a challenge. I have no desire to convert you to my way of thinking and I’d appreciate the same respect. I’m also not spouting this off to somehow say how much better I am than you because of my politics. Aside from the fact that you don’t really KNOW any of my political beliefs since I haven’t actually articulated much past generalities and labels, my politics are a small part of who I am. And by stating these basic facts about myself I’m not by any means calling you out. This is just for general knowledge purposes.

I’ve found that general knowledge helps prevent unfortunate assumptions. Even the bare basics helps.

Politics fall into the category of my personal beliefs. I don’t feel the need to bray about them and I don’t think that braying about them makes them anymore real. If I’m not in the market to change minds (when it comes to politics, I prefer to point out logic train derailments), then there’s no need for me to be spitting into the wind. I’m not compelled to add to the noise, particularly during this extra loud presidential campaign.

However, if you ask, I’ll probably answer. And if you’re an ass about how and what I answer, then your questioning privileges will be revoked. Probably rudely.

Remember, I’m not bound by niceties either.