Bad Karma KC

Whenever something goes wrong in my life I immediately blame it on karma and the fact that I am obviously being punished for something I've done in my life. And despite my efforts in being a good human being, I can count on my fingers & toes experiences in life that I am not too proud of. And most of those experiences involve alcohol. Ooopsa.

This morning I am greeted to work with an email reprimanding me doing something that was not my fault, but an error of someone I assist. Now you may be saying, "oh Kristine, just suck it up and take responsibility for your wrong doings". I suppose I should have been paying closer attention, but regardless, I was given orders to change something, without any knowledge to why it was being adjusted. So this just swooped the day into miserable-madness.

THEN. I got some bill from a dentist appointment I had LAST NOVEMBER, claiming I owe them $450....but why? Isn't that what insurance is for? OHHH NO HOO apparently not and apparently they never took the insurance. But how did I find this particular dentist? Oh that's right, on the insurance's website. So they gave me some bullshit explanation and that it is my responsibility to make sure the doctor sends the insurance the claim. And what else? I will have to pay and there is nothing I can do about it.

(snarl, a little whimper and a sigh)

"Thank you for calling Reliance Standard Health Insurance. You opinion counts. Would you take a brief survey about the level of assistance we just provided?"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME? BADDDDD assistance. No no no!"

(Phone slammed)

As I sat there and started shaking the woes of the day out of my head, the next bomb dropped.
I received a text from my roommate, Courtney that said,

"Hey girls, I wont be around this weekend...

Ok. I don't care. When are you ever around? And p.s., we don't hang out.

"And I just wanted to give you a heads up that I'm looking to move out by 9/15."

OH GOD. Isn't that just great.

So what am I being punished for you ask? Well it could one of many things:

1) Complaining about my current situation, when in fact it's not all that bad compared many others.

2) The fact that I lived most of my life as a horror of a daughter to my parents, giving them daily grief and I'm sure wondering what went wrong in their parenting.

3) I've been selfish and un-intentionally inconsiderate with other people's feelings.

4) I never donate money to worthy causes and NEVER stop at lemonade stands.

5) I am awkward and I'm sure that equals mean to children & senior citizens.

I can only imagine how the rest of the day plays out.

It is only 4:06.

We still have a lot more day to live.

Update: Maybe Don't Say Yes To Everything..

When we last spoke, I was toying with the idea of embracing all opportunities and just saying yes. Yes to dates I was once weary of. Yes to new experiences. Yes to new and exciting different foods. Yes yes yes.

But then we must remember that I am all things excessive, so maybe saying yes to everything is not such a good idea. One more after party? Yes! One more cocktail? No, make it two! Never go home on a work night? Good call!

I had my date scheduled and ready to go with my bar boyfriend, but then remembered I had a work event that I absolutely had to attend. I gave him a call to see if he either a) wanted to go out afterwards or b) re-schedule. He was down meeting after, remembered me rambling on about how much I liked Thai food, so suggested to come meet me at my office around 8:30, we'd take a cab downtown, and get some Thai. That sound's good right? And for the girl who only takes cabs in times of necessity or luxury, all very wonderful.

The event at my office was on our 33rd floor terrace, with the theme of "Outdoor BBQ". It was very cute and had potential to be a blast. Um open bar & free food, what's not to love? Except because I am an assistant, had the job of working the event, with the fabulous job of greeting guests, guiding them to the bar and bag check. Luckily, the bar was inches away and after a co-worker or two suggested I should bring a drink to the front, happily agreed and that was when it all went down hill.

1 glass of wine
2 glasses of wine
3 glasses of wine
4 glasses of wine

Throw in a couple of walk-around appetizers and an asparagus panini and I got a bit of social-drunky. Everyone has their own definition of social drunky. Some get way too honest. Some get mean and way too blunt, touchy- feely, or emerge as super chatty McChatterson. That was were I fit in, which I'm sure mind boggled my co-workers because I generally do not speak at work. All of a sudden, propelled by glasses of white wine, not only chatted co-workers up, but clients as well! And I'm not going to lie, but I had a pretty good time.

Around 8:30 the party was in full force and everyone was planning on moving it along to a bar across the street. I called bar bf and cancelled on him because I didn't want to leave clients and co-workers and he was totally cool and understanding and down to do it some other time.

Wouldn't that be nice if this was the end of the story? Oh its not. We have way more night to cover.

So we all go across the street, where I quickly and stupidly switched over to vodka sodas, mingled a bit, and then left. No memory of saying goodbye to people and I'm pretty sure I just snuck out knowing I shouldn't be in the presence of superiors in the state I was quickly going into.

So I went home.
Ha if only...

At that point, I figured I may as well call bar bf to meet for a drink, because obviously I so needed one, and he lived right around there anyway. I called him and we met up. From what I gather, it was raining, I had NO umbrella, and walked right by him. I can only assume he had a great time with images of his future girlfriend dancing in his head with me, the belligerent wet dog, who muttered things like "you better not bar snuggle with me like last time" and "I am soo taking of work tomorrow or I'll be missssserable".

Somehow we parted ways. I got myself safely to Hoboken and then emailed my bosses to let them know I would be taking a summer Friday.

(The end)

A revision to living life with a yes attitude: Say yes if you never do, but if your a girl of excess like me, simply be open to the world with a positive prospective

If I had my way, I'd never go home, stay out to the last possible second, and burn the candle at both ends for the rest of my life. Thankfully, there is still a little whisper in the back of my head that ghostly murmurs, "goooo home.....you don't want to be miserable tomorrow.....gooo toooo yogaaa.....you don't need to buy another party dress...."

Say Yes To Life!

Ahhh after a mere week or so, I completed yet another of Augusten Burrough's memoirs " Wolf At The Table", which by the way was wonderful. If you haven't had a chance to ever read any of his work, go! Quickly! Go to Barnes & Noble, the library, or ask and I'll lend you a copy. His life is an absolute inspiration for anyone of strength and overcoming huge obstacles, and all the while still making a huge success in life and as a person.

In a panic of nothing to read, I turned to the category of books I own that I can read over and over again. These are basically the in between books when nothing I have is striking my fancy at the moment, but I need something.... So I turned to a much loved book , "The Year of Yes", by Maria Dahreana Headley.

Ever read it? Her book was hysterical and a 1-2-3 read. After a lifetime of bad dating and constant weirdos hitting on her, Maria discovered she was her own worst enemy and had no judgement when it came to the people she dated. For one year, she said yes to every single person that asked her out. I won't spoil the ending, but she takes the reader on a roller coaster ride of some just weird guys all the way down to god-awful crazies. And I'm not talking in a good way.

I think I relate to her especially because I know EXACTLY how she feels. I too am constantly bombarded with crazies, and when a at first-glance normal approaches me, it is only a matter of time for them to fall for me and then immediately lose their mind. As in drop the "I could spend my life with you" bomb or my personal favorite, "the one regret in life I have is never sleeping with you...". Thanks. Thank you very much.

So in a fit of inspiration and the fact that my dating life has been looking pretty bleak, I thought, "maybe I should give this whole year of yes a try". I really am too quick to judge and often regret casting people aside so hasty. I could name a name or two of people who I wish I could have had a second chance. But, *sigh*, you live & learn and can only hope that life actually teaches you a thing or two.

This whole year of yes won't work for me. Almost immediately after I made this deal with myself, I went out for happy hour/night with some friends and friends of friends and was bombarded by a guy who basically appointed me as his "bar gf" and then "bar spooned" me the remainder of a night. Note: this is not attractive boys. Well. Unless I'm super into you, maybe, but usually it is a deal breaker. Give the girl some room to breath for god sake.

Anyway...

My bar bf has called me numerous times over the past few weeks to go out for dinner/drinks/whatever and I've been reluctant. If you can do that to a stranger, lord only know how pda-ish he'd be if we eventually dated or something. Or maybe he doesn't get girls and because I showed a smidgen of interest, went all out. See this is how my mind works. Dating for the past ten years or so, have become jaded and don't take it as a compliment, but more of a:

Hmm. What is he up to? Does he do this to every girl? There must be something sneaky going on. There MUST be something wrong with him....

I actually talked to him this week and agreed to go out tonight, so we'll see how it goes. I've decided that instead of just saying yes to everyone who asks me out (which is not going to happen in NYC, the land of the crazies), but instead just say Yes To Life and embrace all the opportunities that fly my way. For too long I think I've been saying, no no no, instead of taking a look of what's really in front of me.

I'll keep you posted. I may be singing a different tune tomorrow...

Guilty Pleasures....But Why So Guilty?

Guilty Pleasure: is known as something one considers pleasurable despite feeling guilt for enjoying it. Fashion and food can be examples of guilty pleasures.

We all have them. For some of us it's being a very well read individual, but at the same time secretly having a love for trashy romance novels. Or perhaps it's the musical snob who solely listens to random underground music, but for some weird reason or another can't seem to shake the Spice Girls.

Why do we have guilty pleasures anyway? Why be ashamed of what our mind, body, & soul ache for? I think it must have something to do with what society expects of us and the image of what we think we are v.s the one we display. I'm just happy that as I have gotten older & older, have found myself lose these insecurities, if you will, in exchange of a "whatever! I will rejoice my weird quirks and what I love" mentality.

Some of my include:

(1) Harry Potter! I have had friends actually shake their heads at me and say, "I didn't think you were one of those people Kris", to which I respond, "I LOVE HARRY POTTER! I can't wait for the movies and I'm dressing up as my favorite character. And you know what, you just wait. Read one of the books and you'll be singing a different tune".

Why even last night, my friend Hennessey called to chat and when she asked what I was doing, I replied, "Oh you know, just watching the new Harry Potter movie trailer (again) on youtube. Little did she know that while I was watching the trailer, "Harry Potter & The Order of The Phoenix" was muted on my tv. Maybe that crossed the line of guilty pleasure to creepy obsession?


(2) Liverwurst and pickle sandwiches. My mother, a woman who loves her heritage, happily fed her children all sorts of German foods, including, yes Liverwurst. When I initially figured out what it was made of, was absolutely alarmed and disgusted. Eventually, I got over it and learned to embrace liverwurst for all of it's wonderfulness

(3)Musicals. Musical Theatre is one of my loves. Growing up, I was consistently a member of choirs and musical productions and though I was surrounded by people within the choirs, no one at school ever did those kind of things. I remember feeling like something was different. When I was 11 and had the chance to audition with my choir to be on Broadway, I didn't tell anyone because it was out of the ordinary, so I guess that's maybe when it almost became a guilty pleasure. Thankfully, I grew up, became friends who were peers as well as musical theatre lovers, and got over my weirdness.

There is only one instance, that I can think of, when I get mortified by my musical theatre loving ways. On the way to & fro work, I pass lots of Broadway shows, depending on the route in which I take. We got Mama Mia, Young Frankenstein, Avenue Q, The Little Mermaid, Mary Poppins, Legally Blonde, Rent, The Heights, Zanadu, Chicago, Spamalot, The new one with Harry Potter in it, Grease, and I'm sure many many more I can't recall at the moment. Without fail, every time I walk by Rent, Chicago, or Mama Mia, one of the songs from the chosen musical will pop onto my ipod, as if it knows we are walking by the homeland and needs to make a shout-out so the theatre can hear. Meanwhile, I am frantically rummaging through my bag attempting to lower the song. What if someone heard?

I'd so be that musical theatre geek that purposely walked by Rent daily and everyday would fumble through my play list in search of "Seasons Of Love" as a mini-tribute. I would then rip my shirt off to reveal the Rent tank top underneath that I would ALWAYS wear and creepy smile with connection and envy at the people outside the theatre waiting to go in.

No. I'm not that bad yet.

Hatin' On The Homeless

Working in New York City, I realize and accept the fact that I have to co-exist with the homeless. And I feel I have, for the most part, good manners when dealing with them I never stare or give looks of disgust and take special care when in maneuvering around them. I don't want to wake up the cranky homeless when they are sprawled out across the sidewalk.

There is only one or two kinds of homeless people I feel sorry for and if I had spare change, I would absolutely drop it off into their worn paper cups.

Those who served in any war, fought long and hard for this country, came home a hero and poof! They had nothing. No help from the government, being gone for so long caused them to have no way to stand on their feet, couldn't get jobs, were so emotionally battered by war horrors, and eventually the only option was to live on the street. The sub-category in this exception are the crippled war heroes, who not only sacrificed their time and youth, but actual limbs. I don't know what I'd do if I fought for a country I loved and sacrificed an arm and leg for, to come home and realize that it turned it's back on me. So I understand. I'd probably sit in the corner heckling and kicking (see blog "Edgy Bobs & The Kicking Homeless") pedestrians too.

All the others I almost feel resentment for. This morning, for example, I was carrying a HUGE black bag of clothes, a plastic bag full of food my mom bought for me, and my every-day work bag. With three bags in tow, I jet it down the street in order to get to work on time. I was in Middletown for the weekend and when I attempted to train it back last night, there was some sort of delay, so I said SCREW THIS. I called my dad and asked him to pick me up. So needless to say, it was a joy trekking to work today, in a dress, in the weird fogginess, turned humidity, late, with an additional 30 pounds to lug.

While taking a breather and waiting for the light to turn green, I noticed a homeless man, sitting in a lawn chair reading AM New York. Behind his push cart full of miscellaneous this and that's, was a pile of KITTENS. In front of the kittens, there was a sign written on cardboard that read, "please help us, god bless".

At this point I got very angry. Why should I give you my hard earned quarters when you just sit on the corner, day after day. I work not five, but six days a week to pay my bills and to fund a little social life. Why should I support this lifestyle? I hate working. I really really hate it. But I think it's even worse being a societal burden. Put your time in. There are always places hiring. Go get a job. I'd have no problem giving money to people who are actively trying to get back on their feet. But come on, with no goals to better life, why should I just sustain you? (Wow I sound extremely cold hearted. There is no trace of the loving yogi and peace lover I tend to be....perhaps my adult life has already hardened me).

And then the kittens. I want a cat. I would kill for a kitten, but I know that I am not in a financial situation where I could necessarily support another living creature. But here's the homeless man with his 5 kittens. So not only do I have to support him, but also his entire litter.

Could it be that I envy him more than I actually dislike him? Could be... I wouldn't mind a life sitting around in lawn chairs all day with a couple kittens. The only thing stopping me is the winter in the city and the lack of home. But I could always move somewhere warm...or. or....

If I was homeless, I think I'd become a mole person. You know those people who live deep down under the subways and have their own society and live by their own rules? I'd do that or be a super crazy homeless lady and scare the workers and tourists. I'd pretend I was unconscious on benches or sprawled out across the sidewalk, and when a poor Danish family is forced to step over me, that would be my cue to get up abruptly and start yelling gibber jabber.

They always look so down and sad, but I wonder if maybe its all an act and they are the ones laughing it up at the end of the day, while counting out their pan-handling money. While high fiving and giggling away they say, "haha and all the while they think we are sad??? We don't work and get to drink in public and never shower and play around all day, what could we complain about?? Did you see that miserable blond girl with all those bags this morning? Could you imagine if WE had to go sit in a silent office all days writing blogs? Man I'd rather be homeless!"

Saved!

Enters the scarf: This is how you will see me on humid days. Or hungover ones. And the lazy..

Oh Humidity, How I Loathe Thee

Once upon a time, I got an edgy bob. And here it is on day one:

And since then, I have loved every moment of it. So easy to style. So cute. So wonderful. After I got my haircut, I was so pleased with the results, it prompted me to get a new tattoo, on my mid-neck area.

As you may have seen in pictures past, I have naturally wavy hair. What does this mean then you ask? NO MATTER what I do and try to prevent it, after I walk out my door with immaculate styling, the humidity hits me from each angle and I look like this:

Yeah. Pretty bad. I basically look like a crazy Eastern European who just showered, ran a finger or two through my hair and off I went into the flat, yet frizzy abyss.