Three Month Absence, You Say?

Been meaning to blag a bit, but have gotten caught up in

1) Writing in an actual paper journal like a bad environmentalist, and
2) Having fun!

Been feeling pretty joyous all around. I'm spending time with cool people, including new co-workers/friends, and all the crazy shenanigans that go along. The other night we went bowling and decided if you bowled a strike you got to grab someone's ass. If you bowled a spare, then a spankin'. Needless to say, it was a pretty amazing time. ;)

Lames.

Dudes, I just feel fucking lame. My job is lame, and the overtime I've been working towards being totally awesome to make up for the lameness imposed upon my life by my lame job is EXHAUTING! And today I found myself trying to make up for the lameness with ice cream, which seemed like a good idea for a few minutes until I realized it was a fucking awful idea to eat ice cream to feel better. Good thing I realized it...and that my plastic spoon broke. Actually, I broke two plastic spoons. And when two spoons break on you trying to stuff your face full of ice cream to forget about what a lame couple weeks you're having...you take the sign, man. So now I'm sitting here not eating ice cream and thinking about pizza instead. Functional.

Another reason I feel lame is that my grandma passed away last week. I wouldn't say we were close, but we weren't not close either. She lived in New York, and there were family issues, real and fictional (though we didn't truly realize the fictional until I was at her funeral last week, which is a ridiculous 14-year bullshitfest in the making). Anyway, we hadn't really talked in about a year and a half (maybe two - it might've been when I invited her to graduation, which she didn't appear to remember) when I randomly decided to write (and SEND, crazily enough) a letter to her. I wrote in my number, hoping she'd call but not really expecting it. But she did. She ended up calling me on break one day, and we had a truly lovely conversation (I was definitely late getting back from my 15-minute break!). Apparently she was really ecstatic about the letter, because when she died five days later and I flew out to New York for the services I kept hearing about how happy it made her. And while I tend to boast a life of very little shame and regret, I keep finding myself in shock that she's gone, and that the time to reconnect further (though that phone call will be cherished) is gone with her.

So go call your grandmas. Like NOW.

Mized in with all this is a pretty un-fun eczema week, which makes even objectively good weeks feel pretty lousy. Lots of finger splits and stinging. It's probably this shampoo I've been using, but playing "Which Shampoo Won't Hurt You?" is only entertaining to a certain level. Definitely too tired to be playing that right now.

To try to end on a positive note, someone is going to lend me a banjo fo' free while I save up for my own! That's pretty neat.

Someone else appreciating the awesome of the P/T Lifestyle!

From Overqualified. Emphasis mine:

"To: Citibank
Re: The ground floor

Dear Citibank,

I am writing to apply for a job with your company, and I should say ahead of time that I am using you to tease my mother. I don't have any interest in whatever it is you people do. Every time I see her, she starts in on me again. Why don't you have a career yet? What are you doing with your life?

But Citibank, you know what the best day of my life was? The day I realized that I could work a shitty part time job to cover my rent and my food, and the rest of my time could be my own.

So, I apologize for using your current economic woes to tease my mother, and her idea of my banker cousin as a model I should aspire to. I know you guys are probably freaking out. You need to just relax. Think about what I said. I have a pretty nice life.

Joey Comeau"

THIS IS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL ABOUT LIFE (and why I work P-Tizzle)!

Now if I could just have a madly-successful website and super-selling books...

Happy Monday!

I want to be bestest best friends with whoever sent this in!

Erika and I have discussed the awesomeness of ska many times in regards to how even songs about sad things are upbeat and funky. I'm glad someone else agrees! :)

Book Recommendation.

Interesting read about dismantling rape culture in our society (United States). It's a compilation of essays from a number of sources covering a diverse range of topics. One might argue that they don't go into enough detail on certain issues, but I think this meant to be a kind of taste of many different topics which can be pursued in other books after. The neat thing about this book is not only its focus on fixing our society and prevention instead of simply punishing individuals after the fact, but it has a pro-positive sex, pro-feminist outlook as one of its assets that I think really make it a good, interesting, informative book to read.

That's all for now. I'm halfway done with my "read 10 books" resolution!

I'm too sexy for my hat...?

I'm reading this book right now, and it made me realize that I've never considered myself really, truly "sexy". I've had "hot days", in which the t-shirt I put on and my clean hair make me feel pretty cool. But I've never thought myself "sexy", and for the foreseeable future cannot imagine that changing.

This isn't a "Oh, rahrah, feel bad for myself rahrah!" moment, because I don't. Just a thought while reading.

Ah, letter.

Dear Parks & Recreation (the show),

I'm glad you are starting to suck less, because I really like Amy Poehler - and to put her in a failed series would be unfortunate. Please continue improving yourself to be good enough for Ms. Poehler.

Love,
Kymba

There comes a time in every girl's life when she realizes she must grow up and...buy a banjo.

Sooooo, which one should it be? I've found the most spectacular site of banjo lovers who have been a wonderful help, but still can't decide!

Shmeh?

Or Shmeh (click for bigger on both)?

I think I'm worried about the construction of one versus the appearance of the other. And also underrating/overrating either of them in those departments. I've heard a lot about this thing called BAS (Banjo Acquisition Syndrome), and want to make sure I'm buying something good enough that I can put off that seemingly inevitable disease for as long as humanly possible. I've heard of people upgrading after their first couple months because of love and progress, etc, and I surely don't have the funds to want [to want] to do that. What if I buy the prettier one but it turns out to not be made well and I feel the need to upgrade? What if I buy the possibly better-constructed one, but advance so quickly I feel the need for a more traditional-looking/pretty one? Plus, the blonde maple is slightly uncommon and neat - unless the banjo sucks.

I mean, I'll probably get sucked into buying a more expensive one eventually, but which will allow me to put it off for the absolute longest?

"I'm Crazy"

So, I tend to devalue my reactions/feelings towards other people's not-so-considerate actions a lot, saying "Sorry if I seem frustrated, I'm just tired/hungry/having a weird day"...which is basically saying "I'm crazy" instead of "Hey, that action is slightly messed up - think we could work out a compromise here or something?"

Heh.

Fun posts to come, honest! You know I hate seriousness! And to prove it:

Drew this for my friend Danny's birthday today!
Happy Birthday, friend!

What the fuck?

I seem to be spending a lot of time this morning sitting on the floor just wondering, and not in the whimsical "What shall I dream of today?" kind of wondering, but a "I'm lost, but I didn't even know I was trying to go somewhere" one. Finding myself confused and malcontented, and pondering how I even got there (because how can I get out of it if I don't know?).

I guess I was at a loss earlier thinking about this interview I have today. Wanting to look knowledgeable about the company and its values, wanting to appear clean but properly "unprofessional" to show how I look normally, and my general "Interviews are a giant beauty contest charade and I forgot to put Vaseline on my teeth" discomfort. I'm friendly, not fake. If I'm smiling, I'm happy. If I'm nice to you, it means you're nice, or at least not being a jerk (or I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt), and I sincerely appreciate that. There will be no contrived bouncing or bubbliness - just sincere friendliness. Or diplomacy if you've chosen to be a weenie. But in an interview, bouncy, smiling-so-hard-it-hurts seems to be what's desired and I just can't give it. And I don't have one of those "friendly-looking though in neutral" faces that other people have.

So that one had me at a sit-still for a few minutes, and now a few minutes more writing about it.

Secondly, my mom's boyfriend has decided to build a shed in the yard to paint in. I finally got to see how high this thing would be, and it's pushing right into the branches of the trees in our yard, ones that I took spectacular fall pictures of last year. I was pretty peeved when he said they were going to cut the branches back for this shack, for a number of reasons I realized while sitting on the floor like a jack-ass.

Firstly, as an environmentalist or modern-day hippie, or just an advocate of simplicity, I just can't wrap my head around this building. Why not use the space we have more efficiently, instead of constantly having to take over new spaces or build new shacks (yeah, world, I'm talking to you - fuckin' soapboax)? Dan took over Mom's porch office, then a chunk of space in the basement, and now he's building another fucking thing outside. I personally don't see why the basement isn't working, though I'm glad he's moved most of his paintings out of the porch which made it inaccessible (even though now that's HIS office apparently). Monie had mountains of shit in our room (some of which recently got moved into her new apartment), took over Joe's room with giant piles of clothes, and has her fold-out "closet" (in addition to the closet in our room packed with crap) in the dining room. In the 1.5-2 years I've been home, I have kept my shit in my one room. Sure, a pillow or bag of stuff going to the thrift store escapes and sits in a different room for a few days, but I have mostly contained it, and don't see why others can't efficiently use space as well. Secondly, there has been welcome living here, but definitely not openness in letting my items into another space. I get heckled like crazy about that bag of stuff going to the thrift store. I get heckled for charging my phone in another room. It's inefficiency and inequality, if I can be so dramatic.

I mean, everyone can say "Ah, well, let them do what they want it's their frickin' business", but I think it's a shame that we as a society fail to see how much space we actually have, even in houses so small our moms make living rooms into bedroom/office combos. I can't share this idea in the house, because no one would care to listen, and would probably just roll their eyes about "Kym having to break out her opinion or values about some shack in the backyard". It's a shame.

And it's a shame that I won't be able to take spectacular photos this fall either.

Spring Finally Hits Chi-town!

I have spent the last two mornings extracting dandelions from the yard in beautiful, glorious sunshine, the last two afternoons resting by the lake, and the last two evenings watching The Office. I also have been drinking chocolate soy milk.

The last few days have kicked ASS.

Fuck you, buddy.

A Quick Note.

Dear Conservatives,

Honestly, this is something you do EVERY YEAR, regardless of who controls the White House. So, in the words of the 90s:

SAVE THE DRAMA FOR YOUR MAMA.

Love,
Kymba

Not dead! Busy!

Dudes and dudettes, do not fear! Skanky Hooker isn't dying THAT easily. I'm just busy because we're in the last week before the election/my city imploding, and I have a lot of stuff to do/people to have in-case-we-don't-survive sex with!

Last weekend was spectacularly awesome, and I'm excited to blag about it, but that'll have to wait until tomorrow, my last day off until CRAZY happens. So stayed tuned tomorrow. ;)

Plugged In - A Rant Of Sorts - By Kymba

Dudes, there is way too much pressure to be informed in this hyper-speed uber-technological society. There's so much fucking random information coming at us all times of the day. And if you're not on top of each and every underground artist's song, or every youtube parody of Beyonce, or every food someone has wrapped in bacon and deep-fried to put pictures of on the internet, people are kinda rude. Well, not "rude", but a "yeah, i saw that already [so you must be an idiot for not knowing about it]" attitude. I mean, they're probably just giving it so the time when they aren't the first person on top of the latest bacon-drenched monstrosity they'll have some buffer of coolness.

But I say FUCK IT. I'm sick of feeling like myself and others are drowning in this pressure to stay on top of all the latest headlines and the newest crazy skyscraper/33-story Baskin-Robbins Dubai has plans to build (dude, that place is both amazing and insane). Because there's no fucking way to keep on top of all this bullshit. And if someone tells me about something I've already seen (by some insanity, since I'm not good at keeping informed about every entry that pops up on cuteoverload or collegehumor), I'll just say "HOLY SHIT THAT'S AWESOME". Because bacon-wrapped mozzarella sticks are STILL AWESOME, even if I've already seen them.

Thank goodness I'm a vegetarian.