Kids Say the Darndest Things

I love the radio. I know this. My ex-fatwhoreroommate knows this. And now you know this. But in particular, I love The Morning X. I listen every day. I laugh. I drive to work.

You get the picture.

So yesterday, I'm driving to work and the subject arises of embarrassing child stories and hooo-BOY! did I have a good one!

As I may have previously mentioned, (or if I haven't, I'm mentioning it now, damnit!) Corey has a 6-year-old brother, Casey. And in the fashion of any 6-year-old, Casey wants to do everything and go everywhere that Corey (ergo, we) go.

If we are going somewhere that might be fun or has ice cream or something that it seems would appeal to a child, we grab his car seat and take him. For example, the mall.

Now, the Lakeside Mall of my childhood had a playground made up of giant foam-filled breakfast foods. Waffles, berries, shredded wheat, the works. But yeah, some genius decided that wasn't cool enough (WHAT. It was the coolest thing EVER and we used to pretend we were in Honey, I Shrunk the Kids.) or something equally misguided, and got rid of it, putting in its place, foam cars and trucks.

Woo-effing-hoo. I get it. We're in the Motor City.

Anyway, that day Casey accompanied us to the mall and since he'd been mostly good, we figured we'd let him wear himself out on the foam cars for a bit.

Now, let me take a moment to remind you that Corey and I are 20 years old and Casey is 14 years younger and when we take him places, we get dirty looks from old people and ugly married people that are jealous because our illegitimate bastard child is so adaorable and their's look like naked mole rats.

SO WE WERE ALREADY ON THIN ICE.

I was happy because the kid, normally kinda anti-social, seemed to be making friends with a chubby little blonde girl and her baby sister she'd been bossing around the whole time and the three of them were engaged in a wobbly game of Tag.

Corey was happy because we were no longer in the Disney store where Casey and I both became entirely too excited. It was a win-win-win.

Until.

Casey, trembling atop a foam ambulance shouted, evidently in a ploy to taunt his playmates, "COME AND GET ME, PUSSIES!"

And ohmygod. OH. MY. GOD. Did he just say what I think he said? Did he? WHAT DID THAT CHILD JUST SAY?

And we were all, CASEY WE HAVE TO GO RIGHT NOW. And we're shoving his shoes on and goddamnit, this stupid velcro and every time I try to adjust it, these stupid lights blink in my eyes and startwalkingwe'llputthemoninthecar!

So yeah, I kept calling the radio station and couldn't get through and had to email it. And yeah.

Love,
Katie

P.S. I also wanted to note that the other day I was falling asleep at my desk at work and decided to venture to the Starbucks downstairs for a latte to wake me up. So I get my latte and start to drink it at my desk and everyone keeps coming over looking at it going, "That looks like milk."

And I'm all, "It has milk on top." And I continue to drink it, waiting for my hot hazelnut milk to run out and my hot hazelnut espresso to begin.

Except, get this: it doesn't. Because dude forgot the coffee.

And hot hazelnut milk is okay and all, but Katie needs her fix.

The End.

Project Chick

That's the fourth song stuck in my head today. Preceeded by Uptown Girl by Billy Joel (WHY?!), Sunday, Bloody Sunday by U2 (because 89X plays it every morning as I'm waking up), Talk to the Animals (from the original Dr. Doolittle movie) and now Project Chick by Big Tymers.

BECAUSE I'M "LOW-INCOME" AND WILL BE IN "THE PROJECTS" WITH "METH LABS" HOOKING ON STREET CORNERS FOR SPARE CHEETOS. Yeah, hardened by the cold streets of Sterling fucking Heights. Shiny Tall, y'all.

And that's all I'm going to say about that.

Give me a project bitch. Give me a hoodrat chick. Damn, that's catchy.

Anyway, it's been a whirlwind lately what with the power going out for AN ENTIRE 24 HOURS which is totally, like, the END OF THE WORLD because the sump pump dies and floods the basement and the cats have to float around on makeshift laundry basket dinghies and the load of laundry you put in the wash an hour before containing ALL of your work clothes will stay wet and soapy until further notice and the internet goes out and the tv and even the lights so you can't even read an effing book and begin to pray for one of those booklights that everybody thinks is such a great gift because, hey, you like to read.

Where was I?

Oh, so that cliffhanger thing you were all in a tizzy about? False alarm. Basically, a friend and his roommate had kicked out two other roommates and had a spare bedroom for $150/month including rent, cable, wifi, water, gas and electricity--everything. Except we went to see it and it was a pit inhabited by DIRTY PIG BOYS who throw their garbage on the floor (which also had several large, unidentfiable stains, by the way). Also, that bedroom was NOT one and a half times the size of Corey's bedroom and the "walk-in closet" was only walk-in if you were a midget. Definitely not enough room for two people PLUS all their stuff.

Because I am a girl. And we come with lots of accessories.

Spent Friday night doing dinner with my mom, my sister and DELICIOUS HUMMUS whilst Kels showed us her photos from New York. With bonus narration from the mouth of Kels that included things like, "And these are some pigeons. New York pigeons!"

Not an exaggeration. My sister is hilarious.

Did the usual weekend stuff and then, like I said, endured the no-power catastrophe of '09.

But I went swimming for the first time in probably two years at least and it was fun. And don't you judge me for swimming in my underwear and a black wife-beater because a. I forgot my bathing suit at home (even though I finally bought two this year) 2. It was impromptu swimming (i.e.: "Hey, wanna go swimming?" "Heck yes, it's hot out here.") and c. That combo is probably less revealing than either of my bathing suits anyway. Plus, I mean, I'm probably doing the neighbors a favor.

With my hotness.

Anyway, then my underwear was wet, so I got to borrow a pair of boxer briefs and oh my GOD why hasn't anyone told me about these before? They are soft and stretchy and wonderful and have just enough room in front for my balls...wait.

Love,
Katie

To Make a Brand New Start of It

BONUS POST!

My sister (as previously mentioned) is currently in New York. The following is a text message conversation between us:

Kels: "Ask me who I met at the wax museum."

Me: "Who?"

Kels: "Diana Ross and Michael Jackson and Obama and JoBros and George Clooney and many many many more!"

Kels: "Jihlous?"

Me: "Sure."

Kels: "You're mean."

Me: "Am not. Just too stressed to be jealous of scary mannequins."

Kels: "I saw a guy in a man thong at the beach yesterday. Now r u jihlous?"

Me: "You are obviously living the life."

Kels: "I think you need to come here."

Hurry home, Kels.

Love,
Katie

Unintentional Hiatus

Hi kids!

I don't mean to neglect you, (You know I love you, baby!) but I've been rather busy/stressed recently which entailed sleeping through my alarm (twice) and stress dreams in which I told my mother I was moving out and she began to bawl and eat pizza. Then a lady came by selling coffee cake and she bought the whole thing and continued to cry and eat and I woke up sobbing because I had made my mommy so upset.

Where was I? Oh yes. Well this will be a short post because 1. I'm working (shh!), b) I'm tired/lazy, and 3. I don't really have much of interest to talk about.

So let's do a quick run-down and get on with our lives, shall we?

Let's see: My brother pierced his lip (in a car on our driveway by some girl we've never met), ate 3lbs of burrito (pictures later, I promise), and got left at the mall by his ex-whore.

My sister is in New York and ALMOST DROWN yesterday. Basically, she and Lauren swam out a little too deep and while they were panicking, some dude showed up and was all, "Are you guys okay?"

And they were all, "No! Glub glub..." (Alright, I embellished with the glubs! Sue me!).

And then he LEFT. Dude. Left.

YOU DO NOT LEAVE WHEN MY SISTER IS ON THE VERGE OF DEATH!

The boyfriend got a job which is awesome because now he buys me flowers when he screws up (like when he lies about how many girls he's ba...nevermind) which is often, but I love him anyway.

And we went shopping and were in Aeropostale so late that the mall closed and I DIDN'T GET MY MOM HER GYMBOREE BUBBLES (Don't ask.) which is all she wanted and I felt so guilty that I had that terrible dream and I cried this morning when I told her about it and we are going to the mall today to procure said bubbles.

Going to see the Temptations and Four Tops tomorrow night with the Dadster and yeah.

And I've been excited/stressed/scared/HOLYCHRIST I'M GONNA DIE! about something I'm not talking about for a while, but stay tuned, people because it's a doozy (Spoiler Alert: I am NOT pregnant!).

So, can I be done yet? The End?

Love,
Katie

Lessons by Kels

Me: "Hey Kels, can you show me how to stop the toilet from running? You said you knew how."

Kels: "Well, first you flush it really hard."

Me: "Okay..."

Kels: "And you hold it down."

Me: "Mhm..."

Kels: "And then you wash your hands because you just touched the toilet."

Love,

Katie

I Do This To Myself

I put the "ass" in "embarrassment." I really do.

I woke up on Sunday morning with a sore throat and by yesterday, I couldn't stand the pain any longer. I pacified myself with Vernors and Halls until on my way out to House of Chan (our once-a-week at least dinner/lunch destination) with Kels last night, I stopped at Target and picked up some Tylenol Cough & Sore Throat non-drowsy Daytime.

Lies! All lies.

Because by the time the check came to the table, I was so tired that I felt like I was going to curl up in the booth and take a nap. To make matters worse, my stomach was starting to feel not so fabulous, and there was an extremely demanding couple that kept stealing the waitress's attention.

I drove home and don't remember much else except hitting the bathroom and then calling Corey before I finally narced out at 8:20pm (at which time it was still light outside).

I woke up this morning to a voicemail from Jess in hysterical laughter telling me she'd just shared my text message with her whole family. In checking my Sent folder, I found this:

"Well, I think this is the end. I think I am pooping myself to death. I don't know that I'll make it out of this, so know that I love you."

The same day that I wrote my Texts From This Morning post. And now I just shared it with the internet.

Yep, "ass" in "embarrassment" about covers it.

Love,
Katie

Texts From This Morning

Good morning, internet! My, but don't you look lovely today! Why yes, I am slightly sweaty from running errands all over the building this morning! How thoughtful of you to notice!

My right ear and the right side of my throat are killing me and thanks to WebMD, I'm fairly convinced that I either have Mono, a Punctured Eardrum, Strep Throat, or Swine Flu. Also, as soon as my bottle of Vernors and my little package of Halls Defense runs out, bad things will happen, but until then, we'll be alright.

So we've spoken before about my ability to obsess, yes? Well, recently my obsession has turned to Texts From Last Night which is a fantabulous website where people submit strange, entertaining, and often drunken/high text messages. And I check it several times a day because it amuses me to no end.

However, my friends aren't that drunk all that much, so what I get are oversharing, hilarious, morning texts from work and/or class. And I'd like to share a few with you.

Without further ado (I've always wanted to say that. By the way, what exactly is "ado," anyway?), I present to you Texts From This Morning*:

• "My cramps are terrible. Also, a lady I work with just gave me a box of tampons. Apparently, my face screams, "I'M ON MY PERIOD AND I MAY NOT BE PREPARED!""
• "It's too darn hot." (A reference to the Ella Fitzgerald song.)
• "We're fucking lost."
• "Okay, for sure. I've had like, six Diet Cokes. Help!"
• "Okay, he's not that freakishly tall. And yes, I'm texting you while I'm on a date."
• "Bitch hoe."
• "Why are boys so stupid?" "Deficiency in the Y chromosome."
• "I feel like an inspiration to drunken sluts everywhere."
• "Have I ever told you ______ always keeps his shirt on?" "Yes. When we went for sushi." "Haha, sounds like dinner conversation to me. Well the last time we did it, I knew he wasn't going to take off his shirt, so I kept my dress on and he got mad. Point being, we can cross getting fucked by a guy in a sweater vest off of our list of things to do before we die."
• "Please tell my boyfriend that there is no such thing as Celebratory Head."
• "I'm leading a boy on. I feel like I should feel bad about it, but I don't. Would I be a slut if I gave him the bang and boot? Supplementary question: Can you bang and boot someone you know you'll have contact with in a few weeks due to prior obligations?"
• "If a small child carrying M&Ms passes me today, I will take the bag and run. If the kid is cute, I may take him or her as well."
• "Sorry my weirdness is overwhelming this morning. I'm at work and no one knows what a freakshow I really am."
• "I got my hair cut and the sytlist apparently didn't realize my hair is curly and after she dried it, I looked like a mix of a homeless hooker and Taylor Hanson."
• "Wakawakawakawaka"
• "Haha shut up! That gangster was just after my ginormous ass."
• "Katie, I love you. You're the only one that texted me."
• "You treasure every message from me."
• "Well, I see you are tweeting so I know you are alive. Text me if you ever feel like it."

My friends are obviously much funnier than me.

Also, this just reinforces my post from yesterday: We are your future. Be afraid.

Love,

Katie

*Names have been eliminated to protect the not-so-innocent.