HAPPY HALLOWEENS

In the spirit of Halloween, I have decided to dedicate this post to one of my favorite non-holiday holidays. After you have finished reading this, you will have learned some things about me that only my closest friends know about. Tonight, I'm going to answer a question that I get a lot from people I'm not too close to. I am going to tell you about my fears. 
Some of them are completely irrational so you'll just have to bear with me. I tend to get this question a lot because I am a big fan of horror movies and people usually see me as a virtually fearless person. This assumption is far from the truth. Yes, I love horror movies but it's because I know they are works of fiction. They are not real so I mostly enjoy them purely for entertainment value aaaand because Black people in movie theaters are the best kinds of people. But, I digress. Here's a list of some of the things that freak me out.

1. Midgets

I wish I could explain this, but I can't. They're short and can sneak around into small spaces and their limbs are abnormally sized and they're freaky. I vaguely remember this dream from when I was a kid where a hoard of midgets sitting atop one another shoulders just coming after me and ever since then I can't face a midget without my palms getting sweaty. Whenever I am forced to engage one in conversation or I just see them on the street, I have to strongly resist the urge to run in the opposite direction.

2. Odd numbers

As I discussed in my previous post, I have a fear of odd numbers. When I play beer pong, I always have to shoot second and drink second. On occasion I'll drink first but I have to be drunk in order to do it. I don't know how this one came about but it's just a thing i have. Volume on the TV has to be at an even number, when I pump gas into my truck the price has to be at an even number, I usually can't just buy one thing at the store it has to be two, I can't watch one episode or one movie on Netflix at a time, I have to watch at least two. I can't eat one piece of cheese, I have to eat two. At the bar, I need at least two drinks. Not at a time but total. 

3. Tards

I get mocked for this one probably the most out of all of my fears. It's not that I judge them or anything. I completely understand that it is not their fault that they have a disability but that does not make me fear them any less. I tried watching the show American Horror Story during its first season and I could not get passed the first two episodes. The midget tard was too freaky for me. I had nightmares about her standing on my computer chair and staring at me in my sleep for weeks after those first two episodes. I know I told my friends that I thought the show sucked, but in reality it was mostly just the midget tard. Oh and they slobber too! They slobber and more than a couple I have had the displeasure to encounter smell rancid. I don't want to get drooled on or be around smelly people, I just want to go on with my semi-normal existence. 

4. Commitment

It's true, it freaks me out. I get a bit itchy when I think about it. The thought of having to tell someone my whereabouts at all times and see the same person day in and day out...I can't do it. I like my freedom. I like not having to keep tabs on someone or having more obligations than I need to. I like not relying on someone to keep me happy or try and figure out what I'm thinking. Fool, I will tell you straight up if I want something. I have serious goosebumps now.

5. Silence

I can't stand it. I constantly have something going off in the background whether it's music or TV or I'm talking to someone. I can't stand silence. If I'm in a car I have to have music on. Without it i feel like I'm being sucked into a black hole of nothingness. I've had indie horror movies playing in the background all night as I write because I can't focus in silence. In the silence i hear every creak, every sound outside, every movement around me, and I get nervous. 

6. Achilles Heel

I am deathly afraid of not being able to walk. When I was in high school I saw a movie starring Paris Hilton called House of Wax. The movie itself was complete garbage but there's a scene where the monster/villain/waxman sticks his fingers through a floor vent and snips someones Achilles tendon. It was at that moment where I realized the importance of walking. Every time I buy a new pair of Vans, the back rubs against my heel and causes a small laceration. I immediately put a band-aid there because I have this irrational thought in my head that if I don't put the band-aid there, my beloved shoes will cut deep into the back of foot and slice my Achilles tendon, disabling me from walking.

7. Heights

This is a fairly new one. When I was a kid, I never feared heights or jumping out of trees or anything like that. In my high school days, I had some hoodrat friends and we would do hoodrat things like climb fences and investigate abandoned buildings, scaling them from bottom floor to rooftop, but now I could not do that if my life depended on it. A few years ago, some friends and I had the bright idea of climbing onto our friends roof and jumping into her pool. In my head I thought "FUCK YEAH!" but as soon as I got to the roof and looked down, I panicked. I sat on that roof for close to an hour unable to climb down. One of our friends had to climb onto the roof and physically push me off into the pool in order to get me down. Now even the slightest step stool freaks me out.  I can do roller coasters just fine but I think it's just because I'm strapped into a semi-safe rolling death trap that thousands of other people have previously ridden on.

8. Getting my hand stuck in the garbage disposal

I watched a movie once and saw this happen to a guy. I've been watching horror movies since before I can remember and this is another one of the few things that stuck with me. I hate using the garbage disposal. Every time I turn it on, I cringe and lean back on the counter keeping my hands as far away from the sink as possible. The sound of it makes me shudder with fear. I have this image in my head of being forced into the garbage disposal and coming out a bloody stump, pearly white bone sticking out of it. 

Well, that's it for today. Maybe next Halloweens I'll tell you about more of my fears. Now I'm going to continue going through my horror movie section on Netflix. I'm in a paranormal mood. Let me know if you have any suggestions. I'm always up for something new.  

8ish Reasons Why I Hate Being Sick

I'm still not entirely sure how I got sick.I woke up Friday, went to work, came home, watched TV, read, went to bed. Woke up Saturday, went to work, and partied hard. Sunday I woke up a bit dehydrated, went to work for an 8 hour shift and almost the second I clocked out I felt it. My throat was scratchy, I was exhausted more than usual, I got a case of the shivers and I screeched out "FUCK!" the second I got in my truck. I am fully aware that no one enjoys being sick, but in my head I hate it more than most people. I like to go out and have a good time. Due to my close relationship with technology, I have a severe case of self-diagnosed A.D.D. and can't seem to focus on too many things at once. When I'm sick, it's worse. I'm bored out of my mind but I can't do anything about it because I can't find the will to move. This week in particular I have found my sickness to be particularly inconvenient and irritating so I am here to do what I do best: complain about it. Here are my 8ish reasons why I hate being sick.

1. I can't fucking watch Dexter. 

If anyone tells me what happened in this weeks episode, I'll cut you. I tried once on Sunday night and passed out on the couch ten minutes into it. I tried again today and I fell asleep on the couch again. Dexter is one of the very few shows that I can watch without fiddling with my phone or getting antsy and because I'm so damn tired all the time if I sit there without doing anything but watch TV, *BOOM* I'm asleep. I just want to  see Michael C. Hall cut people up into tiny pieces and throw them in the ocean.

2. I can't do my homework. 

I may not be the most studious person in the world, but during the week I like to make at least a half-assed attempt at doing my homework. My this semester, my classes consist of Journalism, Global Communications, Early 17th Century British Literature, and Novel analysis. So clearly I'm supposed to be reading---a lot. I try and finish a good chunk of my reading during the week, whether I'm at work or at home or after work. At work I usually read and work on other homework when the store is slow and I have a late night shift or I go to Starbucks with friends when I get off of work. I can't focus at home because there are too many distractions---TV, movies, video games, other books, etc. Today I came home for lunch in between classes and to do some reading in the backyard but I ended up eating then falling asleep on the couch for two hours. In between my second and third class today i went to the library to read and again---I fell asleep. Now I like my sleep, but not when it gets in the way of my routine. 

3. My throat hurts

I have a fairly high pain tolerance but this sucker hurts! I don't even want to talk because it hurts so bad. On top of that it makes my voice even deeper than it already is! I am fully aware that I have an unusually deep voice normally, but this shit is terrible. My throat is scratchy and the only things that soothe it are ice cold foods and beverages. It's cold outside, I want a warm coffee not an ice cream. 

4. Medicine

I hate taking pills and powders and liquids and whatever else but I have no choice. I HATE Emergen-C because it tastes like crap but I've found that if I mix it with orange juice it's a little more tolerable. I don't mind taking pills but I don't like having to depend on some kind of chemical to make me feel better. 

5. I hate sleeping early

I am usually tired all the time but it's because I do a lot of things at night. I can do homework, research stuff, read, watch movies, write, whatever I want. My lack of sleep makes me feel like I've accomplished something even if I stay up late doing nothing. I just really hate going to sleep early. Most of the time I feel like it's just an inefficient way of living. That's a whole 8+ hours that you could've spent learning or something.  I don't know if I just have insomnia or what but I usually don't get tired until at least 3 am so sleeping before midnight is such a foreign concept to me. 

6. The dairy myth

You know how people tell you that it's not good for you to eat dairy when you're sick? Well my dad's told me that for years and I hate trying to avoid it. All of my favorite foods are dairy. Cheese. I love cheese more than Doug loved Patti Mayonnaise. I love cheese more than Dan Marino loves the Dolphins. Hell, I love cheese more than Hawaiians love Spam. I. Fucking. Love. Cheese. Not being able to eat cheese is like taking a baby's pacifier straight out of its mouth. It's like Batman being physically unable to subdue the Joker. It's like the Native American's didn't teach us how to grow crops. It's terrible and I hate it. All I want it cheese. 

7. The weekend

By the looks of it, I will still be sick over the weekend. There is NOTHING worse than being sick over the weekend. This coming Friday I have convinced a friend to throw a party at his house and I fully intend on attending said function whether or not I am sick. If it's not super contagious  I will be there. This Saturday is my first real day off since probably July. I will finally be able to be hungover in peace, not be bombarded with idiotic questions from people who are incapable of reading a bright yellow price tag. Then I will most likely go out again. This is what I want my weekend to consist of. I do not want to sit at home and do absolutely nothing. I will have fun, goddammit. Alcohol kills germs, right?

8. I had a number 8, but I forgot what it was

I have a thing where I need to have even numbers of everything. I've had it as far back as I can remember and I don't know why or how it came to rise in me. Some call it a fear, others call it OCD, I call it "I freak the hell out when I have to do things with odd numbers". I really did forget what I wanted to say for 8 though. 

That's all for today. I'm going to watch another indie horror movie on Netflix now. 

In Soviet Russia, You Don't Write Blog. Blog Write You.

About two months ago, I received an Instagram notification alerting me of a new follower with the username AKOLESNIKOV. It might look like a random jumble of letters, but I assure you it is not. After looking at this persons profile, I learned that it's is the first initial and last name of a Russian 23 year old from Moscow. I don't know this person. I didn't really think anything of it until the other day when I received a Twitter notification that a random Russian male has started to follow me. It seemed strange, but this is the internet so anything is possible. I let the paranoid thoughts drop out of my head and went on about my day.

After work tonight I had originally planned to watch a movie on Netflix, drink the pint of Firestone DBA that I bought for 50% off and eat dinner while watching a movie on Netflix that I had yet to see. After a struggle with my bottle opener, I decided on a film that I have been wanting to watch for many years but have not been up to viewing due to a deep seeded resentment of Richard Gere. Tonight's film of choice was "The Mothman Prophecies". Initially I had sought out to review the film and probably go on a rant about my extreme dislike of Gere. The opening credits were taking a long time to get through so I took the liberty of checking my blog. This is what I found: 

Russia. I don't even know what to think about this. I don't think that I've ever really met a Russian. I'm pretty sure that I only know one person who's been to Russia but she was like...10 at the time. I took this photo and put it on my Instagram account and so far the only people who have "liked" it are a Russian DJ, a Russian rap artist, and a friend of mine who works at Golden Spoon. I am a little confused and disturbed at my sudden Russian popularity. I don't have anything against the Russians, but of all the countries in the world this one caught me off guard. I have a message for you, Russians: DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THIS POST IS SAYING? CAN YOU READ ENGLISH? WHY DO YOU LIKE ME? IF I SAY LENINADE DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'M REFERRING TO?

I have come to the conclusion that if I ever were to visit Russia, I would either be greeted with copious amounts of applause from its  public or kidnapped and sold into a human sex trafficking ring. I really hope for the former, but let's be realistic here. This IS Russia we're talking about. However, I have always wanted to visit the great country of Lenin. I have seen many photos of Russian architecture and as a bit of an art history nerd I am intrigued. I guess I'm at a bit of an impasse when it comes to Russia's fascination with my life. So thank you, Russians, for bringing this to my attention. I hope I can one day meet one of your people and shake their hand for bringing the world the beauty that is Leninade. 

The end of this post is near and "The Mothman Prophecies" is over. Here is my synopsis of a film that I only really paid attention to the first 10 minutes of and have been using as background noise this entire time. Richard Gere and Debra Messing have sex in a closet. Then they're driving and a moth hits her in the face. She crashes and wakes up in the hospital with brain damage, and claims to have seen The Batman. Gere says "No, a moth flew in your eye". In her muddled brain, she creates the Mothman and then dies. Gere is so saddened by her death that he has mental issues. A few more car crashes take place, Laura Linney is involved, some people die, and it rains a lot. 

Oh and case you were wondering, here's an empty bottle of Leninade.

My dream is to one day mix this with vodka and get hammered and sickled. 

Failure By Design

If you are friends with me on Facebook, you may have noticed that I have a habit of writing "letters" to people who enter my daily life. Rarely are they people I've actually met or know on a first name basis. These are the people that I refer to as "idiots", "assholes", or any other profane, derogatory name that you can think of. Some people might not know or realize this from my usual relaxed demeanor, but I have an incredibly short fuse. Over the years I've learned to control it and use other things to channel it, but it's there. On occasion it comes out when I'm incredibly drunk but the beast inside of me usually has to be triggered by something small for it to come out and play. I've learned to use a combination of listening to loud music and writing those "letters" as a therapeutic technique that has proven to be very effective. 

Over the past couple of weeks, a few people in some of my classes have been mildly irritating but yesterday I was a little off of my game and one event in particular got to be a little too much for the loud  sounds of Brand New* to handle. So here's a few letters of irritation that lead up to the one that just about pushed me over the edge. In order to keep these people anonymous (for all I know they could be your brother, sister,  unfortunate boyfriend, best friend, fuck buddy, etc.), I've chosen to keep their real names out of this and use some appropriately descriptive nicknames instead.  
_______________________________________________________

Dear Fisherman Vest,

You are a bit of an enigma, and not in a good way. You're the kind of person that I never want to be. I'm all for going back to school when you're older to learn some new skills or techniques about your interests but it is clear to me and everyone else that you have most likely been at LBCC since the mid '80s. Mostly because you flat out said so in class. You don't strike me as a man who goes fishing and/or skateboarding on a daily basis so why do you wear a fisherman's vest and skate shoes? Granted, Airwalks can hardly be called skate shoes, but still. They are lavender  pea green, and gray. What would possess anyone to buy those? At least match them with your vest and hat combo! I'm not the best dressed individual but I really don't understand your vest. Why do you wear it? What do you use it for? Do you have different items in the many pockets that are meant for fishing lures? do you know how crazy you look? And your matching hat! What's wrong with a good-old baseball cap? I just really want to know if you go fishing every morning. 
Excluding the your very eclectic wardrobe, there are also various other qualities about your being that irritate the living hell out of me. Your habit of speaking up whenever you deem it necessary is annoying. No one asked for your opinion. The teacher is lecturing. Shut up and let us listen. You also tend to pull these ridiculous new age theories about medieval poets that makes absolutely no sense. No, Chaucer was not secretly writing about space aliens attacking earth. How did you get that out of shepherds arguing in a field about what gift to get Jesus? Nothing that comes out of your mouth makes sense. A normal person would think that you would understand that when the teacher gives you a blank stare after anything you say. I really hope that you one day learn to shut the hell up and let the rest of the class be bored in peace.

---Kt

_____________________________________________________

 Dear Beatnick Guy,

You are quite a character. I have read about people like you in works of fiction but I never thought that it would be possible for someone like you to exist. I'm not sure if you piss me off more than your fascinate me but it might be a bit of a tie. Mostly I have questions but they are also irritants. Every single class you blow into the room like a tornado with your rolling backpack and your briefcase but I don't understand why you are in such a hurry. You always come into class 10 minutes early. I also don't understand why you have a backpack and a briefcase, yet you still always ask me for a piece of paper. What do you have in your luggage? Drugs? Porn? A superhero costume? I also don't understand why you wear your sunglasses inside. IT'S A NIGHT CLASS! The sun isn't even out when we get to class! If they were prescription then maybe that would be okay but they're not! They're just regular sunglasses! Argh there's nothing more infuriating than people who wear sunglasses indoors and in the night hours no less! I also don't understand why you feel the need to enunciate every single word and draw out every single thought. Every one of your points can be boiled down to one simple thought. You are not the teacher. We don't need another lecture from a fellow student. We don't need THAT much historical background on the readings. Please, for the sake of the 8 other people in our class, stop talking. 

---Kt

_____________________________________________________

Dear annoying girl,

Stop sucking up to the teacher. Nothing that comes out of your mouth is remotely factual or important. If you're going to contribute something to the class, let it be silence. 

---Kt

_____________________________________________________

Dear suave guy who sits in front of me,

You're another suck up. You're not smooth with the ladies. Yes, the blue shirt I wear has a deeper V than the rest of my v-necks. No, I do not need you staring down my shirt every time I wear it in order to realize this. I did not wear it for your eyes to stare down. I wore it because I ran out of clean shirts. It's not a shirt I typically wear to school. Do it again on the next laundry day and I might have to stick a plastic spork in your eye. You're not flattering me or doing me a service. You're just being a perv.

---Kt


_____________________________________________________

And finally...

Dear guy who works at the coffee shop,

WHAT THE HELL DID I EVER DO TO YOU? 
I have been to you establishment a grand total of four times and was planning on making it a common hangout spot but you have compelled me to never visit your shop again. The last two times that I have been there with friends you have treated them with the epitome of hospitality and kindness but when I step up to the counter to order your demeanor changes completely. Your face becomes sullen and filled with irritation whenever I order my coffee. You are clearly a middle aged man, why does it complicate your day to make me a coffee beverage when that's your job in the first place? 
The first time I encountered you I thought I might have just been paranoid but last night it was evident to even the friends I was with. First I was going to order pasta but you said "no," so I ordered a cheese panini instead. When you told me you were out of sourdough bread, I understood and quickly changed my bread choice. You just sighed and said "okay, fine". I asked for American cheese and you gave me swiss. The cheese wasn't even melted. Then when you brought the sandwich to our table, you threw the plate on the table on top of my study materials and didn't even give me a chance to say "thank you". I don't understand where your hostility came from. I tip you a dollar each time I order something.  Why do you hate me? I didn't complain about your service or your shitty sandwich. I still tipped you $2 for the coffee and sandwich. 
Later on in the evening I realized that you overcharged me  by $1.50. I was infuriated. It took so much out of me not to complain. I'm not the kind of person to complain about food so I ate your shitty sandwich and just sat there in contempt and anger, shaking with fury as I attempted to study for my quiz. Is it a race thing? Because if you didn't notice one of the people I was with was Asian and I am the furthest thing from being a stereotypical Mexican. 
So thank you, racist, irritating, man at the coffee shop. You've officially ruined my favorite place for me. I'll stick to my black barista from Starbucks from now on. At least he likes me. 

---Kt











*Brand New is a rock band from Long Island, New York. They're my go-to anger band. Check them out if you're interested. Click here to view their website