Lazzzzy

February 25, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

My mother used to tell me all the time how lazy I was. It rated right up there with selfish and stealing as an unforgivable sin. I hated it when she called me lazy. There are so many implications in that word, all of them negative, and none of them that I wanted to apply to me.

But now that I’m older, I admit it. I suffer from extreme bouts of laziness at times.

There are some days when I’m absolutely unstoppable. I start early and check off my To Do list in short order, no matter how difficult. I get everything done before noon and then celebrate with reruns and Internet porn all afternoon.

And then there are days when I am so filled with don’t-want-to that I’m still working at nine o’clock at night because I refuse to leave a To Do list unfinished. The effort that it takes just to get started is more than I want to expend, even though I know that once I get going, I’ll get it all done in no time.

It is laziness, I know. Don’t-want-to laziness that I’ve carried with me all of my life. In my head, all of the projects seem bigger and harder than they really are. I think about how much I don’t feel like doing something and so I put it off until I can’t put it off any more. And then when I finally get around to doing whatever it is, I get it done in less time and usually with less difficulty than I imagined and I kick myself in the ass for not getting it done and over with sooner.

For example, I need to do my taxes. But I don’t feeeeeel like it. I know it’s not difficult. I know it’d probably only take me 20-30 minutes to get it all done. My taxes have never been that complicated. I might as well just get it done and over with.

But, like I said. I don’t feeeeeel like it.

That feeling rules me sometimes. That kind of laziness. I don’t feel like it so I don’t. Sometimes I make myself. Sometimes I don’t have a choice. But, if I have a choice, then I’ll make the choice to put it off.

So, yeah, my mother was right. I am lazy. I’ll probably always be lazy.

But so long as I have those excellent productive days, I’ll keep breaking even.

Even when I don’t feeeeeel like it.

That Personal Line

February 4, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I mentioned in my last Megalomania post that I’ve got an imaginary line drawn in some imaginary sand in regards to what I will and will not share on the blog. And I will be the first to admit that it’s a confusing, variable line. More like a squiggle, really.

I have no trouble letting the world know that there are a lot of bad words that apply to me, but I shy away from really getting into the extent to which they apply. For example, I’m paranoid and I know it, but I hesitate to get into how paranoid I can be and what things I can be paranoid about. I want you to take my word for it, I suppose. To go into any more detail is just too revealing. It opens up the thick skin I’ve developed just a little too much.

There are things that other people would consider personal that I have no trouble talking about. My boobs for instance. I’ve done several blog posts about my boobs and my reduction surgery. Ask me any question about my titties and more than likely, I’ll have an unembarrassed answer ready for you. While some women (most women, dare I say) would consider their bosoms to be off-topic, mine have been sliced and stitched and pierced and seen and drawn on, so there’s really no secrets left for them to have. I might as well talk about them.

But ask me about what I’m writing right now and I’ll probably be pretty vague in my answer (once I get over the shock of someone asking me what I’m writing because that doesn’t happen very often). It’s partially a jinx thing. I’m afraid I’ll jinx myself by talking about a project that’s not ready to be talked about. It’s also a personal thing. To talk about what I’m writing is to open myself up for judgment and I think I get judged enough as it is.

Hell, it’s only been recently that I’ve started to really come clean and willingly offer up that I am a writer. Period. Everything else I do is to support that career goal. It’s made for some interesting job interviews.

I’ll talk all about being single and bisexual and that sort of thing, but don’t ask me who I’m attracted to or who I have a crush on now because you’re not going to get that from me. I even shy away from admitting to celebrity lusts. That sort of thing, I think, shows too much of my heart and I’d really rather not have it broken. Or even bruised. Give me a writing rejection over a personal rejection any day.

I imagine it’s confusing for people reading this blog. She’ll talk about this, but not that. Hey, I thought she was supposed to be honest. Why won’t she say this, this, and this?

I can only say so much, you know? And I don’t want to talk about what makes me uncomfortable. Because that gets transmitted in the post and I don’t want to make any of the few folks reading this blog uncomfortable, too.

I’m awkward enough in my life. I need one place where I’m not. Let that place be here.

Hopefully, you guys don’t feel awkward here, too.

It’s The Getting There That I Hate

January 21, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

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

January 14, 2013January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ 2 Comments

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.

So, About 2012…

December 31, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

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

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.

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.

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?

“I’m judging you all. Harshly.”

September 17, 2012January 22, 2016 ~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

I posted that on my Facebook the other day. This was after just about everyone had to run their mouths about the sad events in Libya. And it was true. I was judging everyone harshly. And I posted it because it was just easier to get right to the point rather than try to construct a witty few sentences that inoffensively said the same thing. I didn’t want that point to be missed.

I am judging you all harshly. I do it every day. I judge your decisions. I judge your morals. I judge your actions. I judge your words. I judge your clothing choices. I judge everything about you. Harshly.

Now, here’s the twist.

When most people think about judging other people or other people judging them, they tend to think about it terms of good and bad. People are judging you to be good or bad. You’re a good person or a bad person. You’re a success or a failure. You’re right or wrong.

When most people think about judging other people or other people judging them, they also tend to judge in relation to themselves. Is this person better or worse than me?

When I judge people…I just judge people.

I don’t think much in terms of good or bad. Are you someone I want to know or not? That’s basically what it boils down to. I’ve known some totally worthless people in my time. Drunk. Never had a pot to piss in. Constantly fucking up in life. But I liked them. They were funny, caring, interesting people. I wouldn’t ask them to do anything for me, wouldn’t trust them to take a dollar and not spend it on booze, but they were all right.

And then there are those with the spit and polished life of perfection that have the successful career and the college education and the spouse and the children and the church commitments and the everything and I wouldn’t want to spend one minute with them.

No one is exempt from this. I judge EVERYONE. Constantly. Harshly. Family, friends, former classmates, Twitter followers, strangers, whatever. Everybody gets run through the judgmental filter in my brain. Repeatedly.

For me, this constant judgement keeps me conscious of who people are. It’s more of an objective thing in the sense that my opinion of a person only changes in the sense of “do I want to be around this person” rather than “this is a good/bad person”. I can’t judge that. I’m a horrible person when you boil it all down. Far be it from me to make that call.

But I can make the call on how much you get on my nerves. How pleasant do I find you right now? What are you saying? What are you doing? How are you affecting me whether you know it or not?

That’s really why I’m so judgmental. I’m selfish. We’ve already established that in previous blog posts. It’s all about me. How are you affecting me? How is your behavior and your words affecting me? I don’t care what anyone else thinks of you. It’s all about me.

There was a guy I went to school with that everyone liked. He was funny, a good Christian, nice guy, all around good person. Except he didn’t like cats. He didn’t just not like cats. He HATED cats. He once wished that a cat would get killed on the freeway.

He recently passed away very unexpectedly. Many people were eulogizing him on Facebook, talking about what a great guy he was and while I paid my respects as is proper, I don’t think he was that great of a guy. He wished death on an animal because he didn’t like it. That speaks so loudly to me it practically screams. I can’t think of someone as a “good person” when they do stuff like that.

I judged him harshly. I’m still judging him harshly and he’s dead. Anytime someone brings him up all I can think is, “but he once wished death on a cat”.

I’m sure there are going to be a few of my classmates that read this post and take exception to this and no doubt want to tell me that I’m a horrible person. And that’s fine. That’s been established. But, I would like to point out that at no point did I say that I’m happy he’s dead. I’m not. I reserve that sort of thing for a very select group of people and he was most definitely not in that group. What I am saying is that one comment from him, whether he meant it or not (and if he didn’t mean it that doesn’t make him look any better in my eyes), influenced how I judged him from that point on.

That’s just one example. This has happened dozens of times with dozens of people. I judge you on your past and your present. I judge and I judge and I judge.

In fact, I’m judging you right now.

Harshly.

Tales of Money-less Woes

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

I’m having trouble making my ends meet this month. It’s not a good feeling. It’s not something I’m proud of. But it is a fact of my current existence.

There are two very good reasons why I’m having trouble this month. One, this bill period saw 3 1/2 extra bills (car sticker renewal, website renewal, a domain fee for a domain I thought I’d completely deleted but apparently I didn’t and of course that sort of thing isn’t refunded, and a little extra added onto my cell bill because I had to change plans mid-billing cycle). Two, I’ve only started one of my three new day jobs.

Had I not had one or two of the extra bills, I would have been fine. Had I started one or both of my other day jobs, I would have been fine. The combination of the two has me scrambling. If I had a couch, I’d be raiding the cushions for change.

It doesn’t help that sales have been slow the past couple of months. Books sales, jewelry sales, eBay sales, nobody is spending their money on the stuff I’m hocking. That money would have been both welcome and necessary.

Here’s the thing…I know I’ll land on my feet. The bills will get paid. They always do. I’ll find a way. I’m clever and resourceful and I know I’ll find the money I’m missing. Maybe I’ll borrow it. Maybe someone will come through in the clutch and buy something. Maybe I’ll luck out and get a quick odd job. Whatever happens, the bills will get paid.

When I was 22, this was a challenge. I didn’t like it back then, but back then I was 22. I was young. Now I’m 32. I shouldn’t be running into these problems at 32. I shouldn’t be scrounging to pay bills or borrowing money. I should be in a much better place financially and I’m not.

There are a lot of reasons why I’m not and I take responsibility for all of them that are mine. Not holding a regular 9-5 job like other grown-ups is one. My life would be so much easier if I could just be normal and work a 40 hour a week job and get that steady paycheck. But the older I get, the worse I get about submitting to that life. A flexible part-time gig is more my speed. As soon as I get all three of my jobs going, my bills will be paid and I won’t be working more than twenty hours a week.

Being very optimistic about selling myself is another reason I’m broke. I have this stupid idea in my head that people want what I sell. That friends and family know people that want what I sell and will pass my info to those people. The reality is that those people are probably out there, but they aren’t getting word about me. And if they are, they don’t have the money to indulge themselves with my goods. My inherent awkwardness about promoting myself doesn’t help this cause.

I could go on, but I won’t. Nobody needs to see my list of money failures.

And that’s what this is. The culmination of many failures. We’ve already discussed how much of my self-esteem is tied to my bank account. Being called an ugly fat cow can’t even come close to doing the damage to my ego that borrowing money can.

Particularly now. I’m too old for this. I shouldn’t be here. Yet here I am.

With no one to blame but myself.

I’ll get through this month. I’ll get rolling on all of my jobs. I’ll sell a few more things. My bills will return to normal.

And slowly but surely I’ll find some self-worth once again.