Good evening, blogger world! Tonight, I racked my brains for ideas on what to write my blog about for the coming week and came up with a few bright ones. This one seemed to be fresh in mind though, so hear we go..
Every guy claims to need a "wingman" when they go out, you know...a buddy that helps them to get laid. Or as Urban Dictionary (which, if you think about it, is far more reliable than Webster's anyways) puts it:
A Wingman is a guy you bring along with you on singles
outings (like to bars) that helps you out with the women.
Typically in these ways :
• The Wingman will always be there to “occupy” least
attractive girl of the pair so that you may engage in the “hotty”
• Often, when an attractive girl is out with an ugly friend, she often feels restricted to not leave that ugly friend alone, thus making the hot girl, un-touchable.
• When the wingman technique is used, both girls are
approached by the men, and the Wingman automatically
engages in conversation with the ugly girl.
• Now that the hot friend sees that the ugly girl has finally found a man, she is now free to start scouting.
• This is where you come in “unexpectidly” and “accidentaly”, and begin catching up on “old times” with the Wingman.
• The Wingman then offers the ugly girl to dance, (which
rarley happens to her) so she wont be able to resist.
First of all, great grammar and spelling, Urban Dictionary. Second of all, I have witnessed this because I am the ugly friend set out in bullet point #2, but that is okay because for every wingman, there must be a wing woman.
I am that Wing Woman.
The job of a wingwoman is simple:
-Don't you DARE dress as cute as your girl. (meaning I wear yoga pants and a tank top and pray for a miracle..this includes hairstyle)
-Keep quiet.
-Only speak when spoken to.
-Laugh and nod when the boys say funny things, but once again, don't speak.
-Let your friend do the talking.
-Also, if your friend wants to grind on you to look sexy/appeal to her boy's fantasies, you let her.
-You are in charge of getting drinks...but don't speak, still.
-You are also in charge of going to the bathroom with your girl when she needs your opinion question.
-Carry a condom and breathmints for your bestie.
-Make sure the guy she's talking to is not a serial killer or frat boy.
-Do not twat block your girl. Meaning, don't go out with her at all if you are the slightest bit tired and there is a chance of you wanting to go home early.
-For the love of God, don't sing.
-Or speak. Did I say that one?
-Be her beer pong partner if necessary and let her look better than you...this also goes with being the wingman's beer pong partner.
-Don't leave her alone for more than 5 minutes unless she asks you to.
-Try to keep her from spilling on herself and barfing.
-If she starts dancing too early on in the timeline of the party, distract her by laughing and talking about something pointless.
-Don't bring up her ex.
-Don't bring up any of your personal life.
-Make sure your friend's vagina, bra, boobs are not exposed at any point.
-Also, try to keep her from getting arrested.
-And warn her BEFORE you go out to not wear the uncomfortable heels if she is planning on getting trashed. Do not commit to shoes you cannot handle, bitch.
-Try to seem as uninteresting as possible to all members of the opposite sex..to the point where they think you might be a lesbian.
-Don't do your sexy dance...this isn't about you.
-Also, don't play with your hair.
-Compliment your friend as much as possible.
-If your friend screams the boy's name obnoxiously in a way that she would never do in real life if she was sober (i.e. "TYYY---lllllLLLeeerR!!!!!") do not hold it against her character.
-Make sure your friend has her cell phone, ID, etc. if she decides to leave you at the end of the night with her boy-toy, which she inevitably will.
-Give the guy your friend's number if she is too intoxicated to do so herself...also make sure he knows her correct first name.
See! Simple!
Now, I've become an expert on being a wing woman as of lately. Girls are no longer matchmakers, they are babysitters and keepers.
Also, if you are a guy and trying to get with my friend, you should at least try to be nice to me. I don't care if my hair is in a pony tail and I'm not wearing a short enough skirt, you still have to be nice to me. Without me, you are not getting laid tonight. So be careful.
Being an expert wingwoman I have also become very good at spotting fellow wingwomen/men. Especially wingmen. They sort of approach you and ask you the basic questions showing that they are the wingman and not exactly interested in you persay. Take the following conversation for example. This is a real life convo that I had while performing wing woman duty for my friend last weekend.
Boy: What's your name?
Me: Kaitie.
Boy: What?!
Me: KAITIE.
Boy: Cool. I'm (we'll call him...Cody) Cody. What year are you?
Me: Junior. (sips cup--clearly not buying this, annoyed) You?
Boy: Freshman. (ew..)
Me: Where are you living?
Boy: (says dorm name) What's your major?
Me: English. (he doesn't care anyways) You?
Boy: Business. (of course..) Are you a Pi Phi? (sorority)
Me: No.
--At this point the conversation is practically over--
Boy: Do you want to dance?
Me: (takes another sip...pretend to be drunk) I have to pee. Nice to meet you though!
This is how it should've went....
Boy: What's your name?
Me: What does it matter? We both know what you're doing. Don't worry, you don't have to waste your time with me. And I'm not letting your creepy friend take my friend away, so nice try.
But alas, we all have social norms we must follow.
Plus, I don't want to make my friend look bad. It's my job to make her look as good as possible, after all.
These are all very simple guidelines to live by. Sometimes being the sidekick is not a bad thing. Hey, you're not the one making a fool of yourself after all! And sometimes you even get free drinks out of the deal.
Well, hope you liked it and found it somewhat informative.
Until next time,
Kaitie xo
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Halloween
Well it's that time of year again, and by that time of year I mean Yom Kippur.
Just joking. Of course I mean Halloween. The only decent holiday left in my opinion. I mean, how great is it that people give out free candy?! What an act of compassion and caring! (except the people that give out raisins...you're an a-hole, shame on you)
I remember getting so excited, dressing up in my various costumes. Everyone has either been a Hippie, Witch, Rock Star, or Astronaut at least once, correct? One of my favorites was the year I went as a pilgrim. I was into it...I don't know. It was the same year that my sister went as a cow. She hated her life.
When you're younger, you either make your own costume or make your parents shell out the big bucks for a one time wear at super stores, like Target..which I love. You go out with your friends or neighbors or siblings, whatever and you walk around the neighborhood (or in my case your parents drive you to a nice part of town so you don't get attacked or have to walk around without streetlights) Plus the nice neighborhoods always have better candy anyways. I'm talking the Peanut M&M's and Kit Kat bars...ooooOOOooh yeah.
Every house you go to the nice old people would be all "OH WHAT'RE YOU! HOW CUTE! Here you goooo!!" all happily and whatnot and then you'd hop off to the next house hoping you don't run into any of those scary teenagers with their Scream or Michael Myers masks. They freaked me out!
At the end of the night you would all go back home and dump out your copious amounuts of candy on the floor and compare. There was always an unnecessary amount of Smarties and Nestle Crunch bars. And while those are good, enough is enough...you know? Where are the Reese Cups or Airheads?! But the WORST was when you got the Good n Plenty's or Riesen candies (eek! What are we, 70?)
Candy was a very defensive thing back then. My sister and I were very cut throat towards one another. If I thought she was stealing my candy I would yell and scream and threaten..(I was chubby, don't judge). It was all very intense.
Then the candy ended up in the communal bowl anyways because there is only so much candy you can eat in a month. That candy was always the Crunch Bars, Smarties, and Good n Plenty's, by the way.
When you get older, you hit that awkward stage where it's like...you're way too old to go trick or treating. My last year trick or treating was my sophomore year of high school (DON'T JUDGE) and it was such a mistake. Literally almost 75% of the houses we went to said the same thing: "Aren't you too old to be trick or treating?" And I felt like such a little piece of shit.
Yeah, that was my last year.
I say once you're old enough to stop wearing a training bra or have your temporary learner's permit, you are probably too old to be trick or treating.
Then Halloween basically turned into a whore show after that. It became all about who would have the "cutest" aka sluttiest costume of all. The more cleavage and leg showing, the better! Stripper heels CAN go with a firewoman's outfit...don't you know? Basically, shopping for Halloween costumes was easy, you just had to go to the sex shop.
It only got worse in college, because not only do girls dress like sluts, but they are drunk and acting slutty, barfing all over the place and showing their underwear to all. It's all very frightening indeed and gives a whole new meaning to a "scary" Halloween.
The worst is the couples that coordinate their outfits. It makes me want to die a little every time I see it. My parents went as dinosaurs one year. It was horrifying on all levels.
This all just goes to show that you don't need to wear a scary mask in order to frighten people.
Last year I went as Ke$ha, which was fun because I basically got to act like a hot mess the entire night and it was excusable! This year I'm going as a nerd. Which is basically myself, so that won't be too hard.
But I hope everyone has a great Halloween! Stay safe! Dress warm! And as my grandma once said, ladies, "If a guy only wants a scoop..don't give away the whole ice cream truck for free" (I do not think she orginated this statement, but we pretend she did..this is the same grandma that told me if I wasn't married by 30 I should just join a convent)
Anyways.
Happy Halloween!
Just joking. Of course I mean Halloween. The only decent holiday left in my opinion. I mean, how great is it that people give out free candy?! What an act of compassion and caring! (except the people that give out raisins...you're an a-hole, shame on you)
I remember getting so excited, dressing up in my various costumes. Everyone has either been a Hippie, Witch, Rock Star, or Astronaut at least once, correct? One of my favorites was the year I went as a pilgrim. I was into it...I don't know. It was the same year that my sister went as a cow. She hated her life.
When you're younger, you either make your own costume or make your parents shell out the big bucks for a one time wear at super stores, like Target..which I love. You go out with your friends or neighbors or siblings, whatever and you walk around the neighborhood (or in my case your parents drive you to a nice part of town so you don't get attacked or have to walk around without streetlights) Plus the nice neighborhoods always have better candy anyways. I'm talking the Peanut M&M's and Kit Kat bars...ooooOOOooh yeah.
Every house you go to the nice old people would be all "OH WHAT'RE YOU! HOW CUTE! Here you goooo!!" all happily and whatnot and then you'd hop off to the next house hoping you don't run into any of those scary teenagers with their Scream or Michael Myers masks. They freaked me out!
At the end of the night you would all go back home and dump out your copious amounuts of candy on the floor and compare. There was always an unnecessary amount of Smarties and Nestle Crunch bars. And while those are good, enough is enough...you know? Where are the Reese Cups or Airheads?! But the WORST was when you got the Good n Plenty's or Riesen candies (eek! What are we, 70?)
Candy was a very defensive thing back then. My sister and I were very cut throat towards one another. If I thought she was stealing my candy I would yell and scream and threaten..(I was chubby, don't judge). It was all very intense.
Then the candy ended up in the communal bowl anyways because there is only so much candy you can eat in a month. That candy was always the Crunch Bars, Smarties, and Good n Plenty's, by the way.
When you get older, you hit that awkward stage where it's like...you're way too old to go trick or treating. My last year trick or treating was my sophomore year of high school (DON'T JUDGE) and it was such a mistake. Literally almost 75% of the houses we went to said the same thing: "Aren't you too old to be trick or treating?" And I felt like such a little piece of shit.
Yeah, that was my last year.
I say once you're old enough to stop wearing a training bra or have your temporary learner's permit, you are probably too old to be trick or treating.
Then Halloween basically turned into a whore show after that. It became all about who would have the "cutest" aka sluttiest costume of all. The more cleavage and leg showing, the better! Stripper heels CAN go with a firewoman's outfit...don't you know? Basically, shopping for Halloween costumes was easy, you just had to go to the sex shop.
It only got worse in college, because not only do girls dress like sluts, but they are drunk and acting slutty, barfing all over the place and showing their underwear to all. It's all very frightening indeed and gives a whole new meaning to a "scary" Halloween.
The worst is the couples that coordinate their outfits. It makes me want to die a little every time I see it. My parents went as dinosaurs one year. It was horrifying on all levels.
This all just goes to show that you don't need to wear a scary mask in order to frighten people.
Last year I went as Ke$ha, which was fun because I basically got to act like a hot mess the entire night and it was excusable! This year I'm going as a nerd. Which is basically myself, so that won't be too hard.
But I hope everyone has a great Halloween! Stay safe! Dress warm! And as my grandma once said, ladies, "If a guy only wants a scoop..don't give away the whole ice cream truck for free" (I do not think she orginated this statement, but we pretend she did..this is the same grandma that told me if I wasn't married by 30 I should just join a convent)
Anyways.
Happy Halloween!
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Random Thoughts of the Day: Male Rainboots and Elevator Laziness
Hi all! I hope everyone had a fairly good hump Day. We're half way to the weekend people, we got this.
Now, today was kind of a gross day for life, very "Great Depression"-esque. It was rainy and cold and everyone was just crabby and miserable. People who are normally peppy and loving were more like me today, cynical and bitchy. It was nice. Not really.
I don't really have a subject for this post, so just roll with me on this one people. I do however want to bring up a few happenstances that occured today.
First, I want to whine a bit about the laziness of Americans. I know, this subject is old and tired and people just take great offense to it...blah blah. Whatever. You're lazy. I'm lazy. We're all lazy. That is what makes this country so great. So why can't we all just get along, sit down, watch some Biggest Loser and eat bon bons?
Now I must say that not every American is lazy. For example, I see people riding their bikes, even in the rain...which is just beyond inspiring (and also somewhat sad) and working out for 3 hours a day, and running marathons, and eating nothing but vegetables. They go out and get their work done and homework done before 12am. So great...for you...
But don't lie, you would totally rather drink a Salted Caramel Mocha from Starbucks than V8 juice. Like, come on.
Anyways.
I'm at the library today. Doin my thang. I'm on the 7th floor, so it is excusable for me to use the elevator. Whatever. So I get on the elevator to leave and am going down and the elevator stops at the 2nd floor. I'm a bit perplexed as to why it is stopping, but keep to myself.
This girl walks in...no physical ailments (no broken leg, ankle, she looks perfectly freaking healthy..happy as a lark)
She has the gull to turn to me and say "is this going down?"
"Yes, it is," I say in return, thinking 'oh she wants to go up, duh!'
NO This bitch gets on the elevator to go down ONE FLOOR. If you are one of these people...SHAME ON YOU!! It is one floor, one flight of steps....GOING DOWN. Not even going up!!! Which is still inexcusable to me. That's bad enough...but going down. Really? You're going to take the elevator going down ONE FLOOR? You're going to make the whole elevator system stop for your fat, lazy ass because you are incapable of walking down the flight of stairs? By the time you waited for the elevator to even get to the 2nd floor you could have been out of the entire building.
I've walked down from the 2nd to 1st floor at this library, it is not challenging. I understand if you are ill, have an injury, whatever...but this girl did not have anything of the sort.
She was being lazy. And to top it off, she was talking on her cell phone the whole time. Talking on your cell phone in the elevator is just awkward anyways. Elevator rides in general are awkward. I could write a whole "Awkward Elevator" Blog and everyone would understand what I'm saying. But please, girl, can you wait literally 12 seconds to get off the elevator to get on your phone? (and also, you're in a library)
There is a special ring in hell for people like this.
(^okay, that was dramatic...) But seriously?!
Could we be any more lazy?
This truly disappointed me and I just wanted to vomit after it happened. She had quite some nerve, that girl.
Now...moving on to my next subject which literally has nothing to do with elevator laziness.
As I stated earlier, today was a very rainy, wet day. And not just that light, drizzly rain, but a consistent downpour throughout the entire day. I'm talking pancho weather. Like there were some ass holes wearing panchos around campus, which I guess is pretty commendable because I would not be caught DEAD in one of those hideous things.
So anyways, us girls have it very easy in comparison. We put our cute little designer rainboots on, our cute pink raincoats, we get our heavy duty polka dot umbrellas out and walk to class. We still complain, because you know, we're girls...that's what we do! (hence my blog)
"My butt is soaked!"
"Ugh, my hair!"
"Why is it hitting me from the side?!" (because it's fucking windy, this is Ohio.)
And so forth...you get the message.
And yeah, it sucks. It was one of those days that no matter what you wear or how hard you try to put on your rainy best you will still get wet and it sucks, and it's hard, and I just want to cry and get into my snuggie.
BUT
Then you see the male college population. And let me just say, you guys are troopers.
For some reason, our society says that it is not socially acceptable for males to a)wear rainboots (unless you're a fisherman or a serial killer) b)carry umbrellas (unless you are over the age of 25 or are a business man of sorts) or c)own a raincoat (unless it's a Nike brand).
I feel for these guys, really I do. I thank God every night before I go to bed for not giving me a penis for this very reason. The whole walking to class in the cold rain in nothing but a hooded sweatshirt.
Guys, I am so sorry.
And also, if you want to wear rainboots, a raincoat, or carry an umbrella...I WILL NOT JUDGE YOU!! (unless the rainboots are girlie...or the raincoat...or if your umbrella is any color but black)--just kidding...kind of
But seriously, I've never felt more bad for the male sex in my life as I did today. One guy even said "I wish it was acceptable for guys to wear rainboots..."
To that random guy, I say YES! You can wear rainboots! You can do anything you want to do! This is America! America is the land of the free, where we should be able to do anything we want to do (within confines). But if not, if you truly are uncomfortable with challenging your societal norms, just get yourself drenched, go home, eat a frozen pizza, and play XBox...that's American too.
Now if you'll excuse me, my ass is wet and my feet are cold because of the rain, so I'm going to go take a long hot shower instead of doing homework...then maybe I'll facebook.
Ahh, laziness. The bliss.
Until next time,
Kaitie xo
Now, today was kind of a gross day for life, very "Great Depression"-esque. It was rainy and cold and everyone was just crabby and miserable. People who are normally peppy and loving were more like me today, cynical and bitchy. It was nice. Not really.
I don't really have a subject for this post, so just roll with me on this one people. I do however want to bring up a few happenstances that occured today.
First, I want to whine a bit about the laziness of Americans. I know, this subject is old and tired and people just take great offense to it...blah blah. Whatever. You're lazy. I'm lazy. We're all lazy. That is what makes this country so great. So why can't we all just get along, sit down, watch some Biggest Loser and eat bon bons?
Now I must say that not every American is lazy. For example, I see people riding their bikes, even in the rain...which is just beyond inspiring (and also somewhat sad) and working out for 3 hours a day, and running marathons, and eating nothing but vegetables. They go out and get their work done and homework done before 12am. So great...for you...
But don't lie, you would totally rather drink a Salted Caramel Mocha from Starbucks than V8 juice. Like, come on.
Anyways.
I'm at the library today. Doin my thang. I'm on the 7th floor, so it is excusable for me to use the elevator. Whatever. So I get on the elevator to leave and am going down and the elevator stops at the 2nd floor. I'm a bit perplexed as to why it is stopping, but keep to myself.
This girl walks in...no physical ailments (no broken leg, ankle, she looks perfectly freaking healthy..happy as a lark)
She has the gull to turn to me and say "is this going down?"
"Yes, it is," I say in return, thinking 'oh she wants to go up, duh!'
NO This bitch gets on the elevator to go down ONE FLOOR. If you are one of these people...SHAME ON YOU!! It is one floor, one flight of steps....GOING DOWN. Not even going up!!! Which is still inexcusable to me. That's bad enough...but going down. Really? You're going to take the elevator going down ONE FLOOR? You're going to make the whole elevator system stop for your fat, lazy ass because you are incapable of walking down the flight of stairs? By the time you waited for the elevator to even get to the 2nd floor you could have been out of the entire building.
I've walked down from the 2nd to 1st floor at this library, it is not challenging. I understand if you are ill, have an injury, whatever...but this girl did not have anything of the sort.
She was being lazy. And to top it off, she was talking on her cell phone the whole time. Talking on your cell phone in the elevator is just awkward anyways. Elevator rides in general are awkward. I could write a whole "Awkward Elevator" Blog and everyone would understand what I'm saying. But please, girl, can you wait literally 12 seconds to get off the elevator to get on your phone? (and also, you're in a library)
There is a special ring in hell for people like this.
(^okay, that was dramatic...) But seriously?!
Could we be any more lazy?
This truly disappointed me and I just wanted to vomit after it happened. She had quite some nerve, that girl.
Now...moving on to my next subject which literally has nothing to do with elevator laziness.
As I stated earlier, today was a very rainy, wet day. And not just that light, drizzly rain, but a consistent downpour throughout the entire day. I'm talking pancho weather. Like there were some ass holes wearing panchos around campus, which I guess is pretty commendable because I would not be caught DEAD in one of those hideous things.
So anyways, us girls have it very easy in comparison. We put our cute little designer rainboots on, our cute pink raincoats, we get our heavy duty polka dot umbrellas out and walk to class. We still complain, because you know, we're girls...that's what we do! (hence my blog)
"My butt is soaked!"
"Ugh, my hair!"
"Why is it hitting me from the side?!" (because it's fucking windy, this is Ohio.)
And so forth...you get the message.
And yeah, it sucks. It was one of those days that no matter what you wear or how hard you try to put on your rainy best you will still get wet and it sucks, and it's hard, and I just want to cry and get into my snuggie.
BUT
Then you see the male college population. And let me just say, you guys are troopers.
For some reason, our society says that it is not socially acceptable for males to a)wear rainboots (unless you're a fisherman or a serial killer) b)carry umbrellas (unless you are over the age of 25 or are a business man of sorts) or c)own a raincoat (unless it's a Nike brand).
I feel for these guys, really I do. I thank God every night before I go to bed for not giving me a penis for this very reason. The whole walking to class in the cold rain in nothing but a hooded sweatshirt.
Guys, I am so sorry.
And also, if you want to wear rainboots, a raincoat, or carry an umbrella...I WILL NOT JUDGE YOU!! (unless the rainboots are girlie...or the raincoat...or if your umbrella is any color but black)--just kidding...kind of
But seriously, I've never felt more bad for the male sex in my life as I did today. One guy even said "I wish it was acceptable for guys to wear rainboots..."
To that random guy, I say YES! You can wear rainboots! You can do anything you want to do! This is America! America is the land of the free, where we should be able to do anything we want to do (within confines). But if not, if you truly are uncomfortable with challenging your societal norms, just get yourself drenched, go home, eat a frozen pizza, and play XBox...that's American too.
Now if you'll excuse me, my ass is wet and my feet are cold because of the rain, so I'm going to go take a long hot shower instead of doing homework...then maybe I'll facebook.
Ahh, laziness. The bliss.
Until next time,
Kaitie xo
Monday, October 17, 2011
Older Blog That I Just Found
Hey all! Hope everyone is having a great Monday (not likely, I know, but I'm allowed to say it still). Currently, my internet is not working in my apartment which blows big ones. It's a hard life when you can't check your facebook, twitter, blogger (wink, wink!), yahoonews, imdb, youtube, dsw.com, weatherchannel.com, bank account, hbogo.com (so I can watch True Blood over and over and over) and any other obscure website that I shouldn't be on because of my crap ton of homework due.
Anyways, so since my internet was not working I decided to look through some of my old saved files in mydocuments and clean it out, once again, anything to avoid doing homework. So while looking through I found a blog I made from my freshman year of college, which was 2 years ago. I realized not much has changed since then. So I decided to share it all with you again, here it is:
**NOTE: This was written in the beginning of spring semester, dead of winter, and I had all day classes starting at 8am, life was hard....ok continue...
Anyways, so since my internet was not working I decided to look through some of my old saved files in mydocuments and clean it out, once again, anything to avoid doing homework. So while looking through I found a blog I made from my freshman year of college, which was 2 years ago. I realized not much has changed since then. So I decided to share it all with you again, here it is:
**NOTE: This was written in the beginning of spring semester, dead of winter, and I had all day classes starting at 8am, life was hard....ok continue...
First off, like most human beings on earth I despise Mondays. The reasons that people hate Mondays are unexplainable. There’s just something about waking up at the ass crack of dawn, getting yourself ready, and walking all the way across campus in the freezing cold with nothing but a granola bar in your system. After sitting there, waiting for your professor to actually get to the point of the conversation, you realize there was no point of rolling your butt out of bed in the first place. So you walk the mile back to your dorm and try to nap while your roommate is spraying two cans of hairspray on her hair just to go to class. As the day goes on, not much changes. You sit through class after class as you try to keep your eyes open. You’re paying thousands of dollars just to sit in a room as a person babbles on about a subject that doesn’t even pertain to your future what-so-ever. Like seriously, biology environments of life to be an English major? Does that even make sense to you?! No, it doesn’t make sense to me either. As you sit in your devastatingly boring history class, staring at a map on the board as your scatter brained professor drones on and on and on about the Mughals of the Persians that has nothing to do with you now (that was 600 years ago), you’re stomach growls embarrassingly loud. Because, yes, you’ve barely eaten anything but a granola bar and fruit snacks (which you almost choked on) all day. The stupid meat head in front of you turns around and gives you a weird look because yes it was that loud. You give him the death stare because it’s not your fault you’re sitting in a crowded lecture hall and you just happen to be starving. You’re eyes threaten to tell the girl sitting next to him how he has been talking about how hot she was and how he wanted to bang her ten minutes before she entered the classroom. I’m sure he couldn’t read my look, but I was thinking it…oh I was thinking it. How is it that every time it’s extremely quiet in the classroom your stomach decides to make this huge obnoxious noise? Yet ,when there’s all this hustle and bustle, no noise at all. Then you can’t even pay attention to the material in class because you’re too paranoid your stomach will growl like a freaking tractor roaring through the room.
Finally, the day is done. But no day is truly done in college. For there are chapters and chapters of reading that should have been done days ago. Surprise quizzes that you forgot you had because god forbid you don’t check your SYLLABUS ONE FREAKING DAY. Poems you have to analyze, papers to be written, drafts needed to be revised. Finally, it’s time to relax and hang out with your friends. You go to a concert with your roommate, and she sprains her ankle, making the rest of the night completely filled with tension – literally. But all is good again when you settle back and turn on MTV with some ramen. No good MTV show starts till 10, and by the time you watch all that, then get back to your homework, you don’t get to bed until 12. But that’s early for a college student, hey, at least you’ll get 7 hours of sleep. That’s so refreshing.
Okay, well I hope you all enjoyed that, and if not...that's ok. I probably wouldn't either, but maybe you can relate to my monday feelings.
Thank God for granola bars! Right?
Until next time,
Kaitie xo
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Dear 14 Year Old Self
As we speak I should be writing an actual real life thing called an essay for a lit class that I can't stand. Due tomorrow. I've come pretty far and written a- my name b- the date and c- a lame title that will have to be changed. That was 40 minutes ago.
Here I sit wondering what my life has come to and why I feel that it is okay to write on this blog instead of write this paper. My answer is...that I do not know, but I do know that I am a horrible, awful person and should feel like a huge fat idiot for not even attempting to write an introduction paragraph before logging onto blogspot.
Anyways.
The other day I was at home cleaning out my bookshelf. Deep within the confines of said bookshelf I found some pretty frightening things, like yearbooks from 5th grade that I wish I could burn for fear that people will see my man haircut and awkward chub. I also found a cell phone from like 1985 (it didn't even have A CAMERA!!! shock ensues..) some books from when I was probably 2 years old. Goodnight Moon, anyone?
But my most important find was my journal from freshman year of high school where I wrote about literally the stupidest things ever including boys I liked that didn't even know I existed, family problems that I cringe at now (but really Mom, couldn't you have picked me up at 11 instead of 10:30...what difference does that half hour really make?), songs that I wrote that sounded eerily like Kelly Clarkson's Miss. Independent, some pictures that I thought were good at the time (I had a strange obsession with eyes and eyebrows...which are just frightening) just really a lot of embarassing shit that I don't ever want anybody to see. Like I really need to burn this stuff in case I ever die in a freak accident like those people in Final Destination because I don't want my parents going through my stuff and finding this ridiculously disturbing journal with badly ryhmned songs and a bunch of sketches on human eyeballs.
My journal seemed to be going pretty well for about three months and then I just sort of forgot about it, which is so typical for journals or diaries if you think about it. Really, anyone who has kept a diary and/or journal for more than a year and ACTUALLY writes in it daily or every other day or something, I commend you.
One of my last entires was something that terrified me as I sat there reading it in my room at 2 am this past weekend, I died laughing and also died of embrassment for my 14-year old self.
This is what it says:
"Dear Diary,
Today I was thinking that I really need to make a life plan. I feel so pressured to have a plan. I want to go to college DUH. So I'm going to make a list of things I want to do:
1-Pass my OGTs next year (woo! go me, I did pass, much like the other 98% of my grade..)
2-Get my license (barely made that one...road rage)
3-Find a date to homecoming next year and not be so lame!!! (ha...that never happened, I will forever be lame)
4-See Rascal Flatts before I graduate (I did actually see them, can't name one song they have out now though)
5-Dye my hair black (I dyed it dark brown and hated my life for a year)
6-Go out with ****** (HAHAHA...never happened...)
7-Be in a musical (nope)
8-Get a car (realistic)
7-Go to prom with my boyfriend (what boyfriend?! what was I thinking?!)
9-Graduate (well..no shit 14-year old self)
10-Go to Hawaii the summer before college (With what money?)
11-Go to Purdue (my hopes were high....)
12-Intern in Chicago for a summer-age 19 (Once again, high hopes and suddenly my 14 year old self decided to add age restrictions...she had very high standards for me)
13-Study Abroad in Italy, Paris, or Spain-age 20 (All of which would be challenging since I know none of those languages, apparently I was to learn them though)
14-Meet the love of my life--future husband-roughly age 20-21 (me learning 3 different languages would have been more likely than this one)
15-Go to Las Vegas for my 21st birthday!! age 21 (yes...age 21, I'm lucky if I can go to Put-In-Bay for my 21st now)
16- Graduate with honors age 21 (we'll see about that)
17- Work in New York, Boston, or Chicago age 21-23 (only two years, then I can come back to this hell hole apparently)
18- Marry boyfriend age 23 (the image of me getting engaged within the next 2 years literally makes me want to shit my pants right now, my clock is obviously ticking)
19- Get steady job age 23 (doing what? did I have any clue about my life?)
20- Travel to Europe [with husband] age 24 (that's nice that I wanted to include him in that fun)
21- Have first child age 24 (this frightens me so much, was I serious?)
22- Buy my parents a house age 25 (WOW! Was I planning on becoming a Hollywood movie star or a rapper?)
23- Have second child age 25 (My body will be stretched and torn before I even hit 26!)
24- Take kids to Disney World age 27 (Obviously this was more important in my life plan than picking a career choice)
25- Buy beach house in North Carolina age 28 (yes, many people under the age of 60 have beach homes where I'm from)
26- One more kid...maybe? age 28 (We'll flip a coin for that one)
27- Take kids to Europe when they're teenagers (I didn't add an age on this one because I was and still am terrible at math and couldn't figure out at one age I would be when my children would be teenagers)
28- live life age 28-65 (what does living life consist of?!?! really, Kaitie? this was crucial to the list)
29- Retire at age 65, move to Florida (and finally, one of the more realistic goals on my list)
30- write books during retirement (really?)
31- Have grandkids! (this scared me for many reasons)
I can do anything I set my mind to, I just have to work hard and believe I can!
Well, that's all for now :)
Kaitie"
Obviously I was a weird kid. Reading through this list just made me realize that we really have no freaking clue of anything when we're that young. I don't remember feeling young at 14, I thought I knew everything.
I'm sure 6 years from now I'll look back at my 20 year old self and say WTF were you thinking 20-year old Kaitie?!
Did I seriously want to have kids by age 24? Did I really think I would meet the love of my life in college? Did I honestly believe that I would get to travel and work in all of these places? Who knows?
All I know is that the list is comical and the fact that dying my hair dark and having grandchildren were both their own seperate categories on this list scares me. I suppose we all prioritize things differently as we grow up and we're all constantly still growing up...even after retirement.
I hope you found it enjoyable and that it made you feel better about your own life and say "Whew! Good thing I was never THAT psychotic!"
To my 14 year old self I say, "Oh honey, that's cute. Get a clue."
And if for some strange reason I look through my web history 6 years from now and find this blog, I say to myself then, "I'm surprised you can afford a computer, you homeless weirdo cat lady."
AND FINALLY, to all of you: "You can do anything you set your mind to. You just have to work hard and believe you can!" -Kaitie Nock, 14 years of age.
Until next time,
Kaitie xo
Here I sit wondering what my life has come to and why I feel that it is okay to write on this blog instead of write this paper. My answer is...that I do not know, but I do know that I am a horrible, awful person and should feel like a huge fat idiot for not even attempting to write an introduction paragraph before logging onto blogspot.
Anyways.
The other day I was at home cleaning out my bookshelf. Deep within the confines of said bookshelf I found some pretty frightening things, like yearbooks from 5th grade that I wish I could burn for fear that people will see my man haircut and awkward chub. I also found a cell phone from like 1985 (it didn't even have A CAMERA!!! shock ensues..) some books from when I was probably 2 years old. Goodnight Moon, anyone?
But my most important find was my journal from freshman year of high school where I wrote about literally the stupidest things ever including boys I liked that didn't even know I existed, family problems that I cringe at now (but really Mom, couldn't you have picked me up at 11 instead of 10:30...what difference does that half hour really make?), songs that I wrote that sounded eerily like Kelly Clarkson's Miss. Independent, some pictures that I thought were good at the time (I had a strange obsession with eyes and eyebrows...which are just frightening) just really a lot of embarassing shit that I don't ever want anybody to see. Like I really need to burn this stuff in case I ever die in a freak accident like those people in Final Destination because I don't want my parents going through my stuff and finding this ridiculously disturbing journal with badly ryhmned songs and a bunch of sketches on human eyeballs.
My journal seemed to be going pretty well for about three months and then I just sort of forgot about it, which is so typical for journals or diaries if you think about it. Really, anyone who has kept a diary and/or journal for more than a year and ACTUALLY writes in it daily or every other day or something, I commend you.
One of my last entires was something that terrified me as I sat there reading it in my room at 2 am this past weekend, I died laughing and also died of embrassment for my 14-year old self.
This is what it says:
"Dear Diary,
Today I was thinking that I really need to make a life plan. I feel so pressured to have a plan. I want to go to college DUH. So I'm going to make a list of things I want to do:
1-Pass my OGTs next year (woo! go me, I did pass, much like the other 98% of my grade..)
2-Get my license (barely made that one...road rage)
3-Find a date to homecoming next year and not be so lame!!! (ha...that never happened, I will forever be lame)
4-See Rascal Flatts before I graduate (I did actually see them, can't name one song they have out now though)
5-Dye my hair black (I dyed it dark brown and hated my life for a year)
6-Go out with ****** (HAHAHA...never happened...)
7-Be in a musical (nope)
8-Get a car (realistic)
7-Go to prom with my boyfriend (what boyfriend?! what was I thinking?!)
9-Graduate (well..no shit 14-year old self)
10-Go to Hawaii the summer before college (With what money?)
11-Go to Purdue (my hopes were high....)
12-Intern in Chicago for a summer-age 19 (Once again, high hopes and suddenly my 14 year old self decided to add age restrictions...she had very high standards for me)
13-Study Abroad in Italy, Paris, or Spain-age 20 (All of which would be challenging since I know none of those languages, apparently I was to learn them though)
14-Meet the love of my life--future husband-roughly age 20-21 (me learning 3 different languages would have been more likely than this one)
15-Go to Las Vegas for my 21st birthday!! age 21 (yes...age 21, I'm lucky if I can go to Put-In-Bay for my 21st now)
16- Graduate with honors age 21 (we'll see about that)
17- Work in New York, Boston, or Chicago age 21-23 (only two years, then I can come back to this hell hole apparently)
18- Marry boyfriend age 23 (the image of me getting engaged within the next 2 years literally makes me want to shit my pants right now, my clock is obviously ticking)
19- Get steady job age 23 (doing what? did I have any clue about my life?)
20- Travel to Europe [with husband] age 24 (that's nice that I wanted to include him in that fun)
21- Have first child age 24 (this frightens me so much, was I serious?)
22- Buy my parents a house age 25 (WOW! Was I planning on becoming a Hollywood movie star or a rapper?)
23- Have second child age 25 (My body will be stretched and torn before I even hit 26!)
24- Take kids to Disney World age 27 (Obviously this was more important in my life plan than picking a career choice)
25- Buy beach house in North Carolina age 28 (yes, many people under the age of 60 have beach homes where I'm from)
26- One more kid...maybe? age 28 (We'll flip a coin for that one)
27- Take kids to Europe when they're teenagers (I didn't add an age on this one because I was and still am terrible at math and couldn't figure out at one age I would be when my children would be teenagers)
28- live life age 28-65 (what does living life consist of?!?! really, Kaitie? this was crucial to the list)
29- Retire at age 65, move to Florida (and finally, one of the more realistic goals on my list)
30- write books during retirement (really?)
31- Have grandkids! (this scared me for many reasons)
I can do anything I set my mind to, I just have to work hard and believe I can!
Well, that's all for now :)
Kaitie"
Obviously I was a weird kid. Reading through this list just made me realize that we really have no freaking clue of anything when we're that young. I don't remember feeling young at 14, I thought I knew everything.
I'm sure 6 years from now I'll look back at my 20 year old self and say WTF were you thinking 20-year old Kaitie?!
Did I seriously want to have kids by age 24? Did I really think I would meet the love of my life in college? Did I honestly believe that I would get to travel and work in all of these places? Who knows?
All I know is that the list is comical and the fact that dying my hair dark and having grandchildren were both their own seperate categories on this list scares me. I suppose we all prioritize things differently as we grow up and we're all constantly still growing up...even after retirement.
I hope you found it enjoyable and that it made you feel better about your own life and say "Whew! Good thing I was never THAT psychotic!"
To my 14 year old self I say, "Oh honey, that's cute. Get a clue."
And if for some strange reason I look through my web history 6 years from now and find this blog, I say to myself then, "I'm surprised you can afford a computer, you homeless weirdo cat lady."
AND FINALLY, to all of you: "You can do anything you set your mind to. You just have to work hard and believe you can!" -Kaitie Nock, 14 years of age.
Until next time,
Kaitie xo
Monday, October 3, 2011
Just another Monday...
So today was the first actual nice day of fall in…oh about a month. No rain, the sun was shining (for a good portion of the day), so it automatically puts me in a good mood. Even for a Monday.
Nothing could go wrong. Well a few things did go wrong, like I spilt coffee on my jeans…AGAIN and also almost fell asleep multiple times in my ACS lecture, AKA the class that every freshman at this university seems to be taking. Way to go…me.
But other than that, life seemed to be going well. I come home from class and am walking to my apartment, sighing heavily with happiness when all of the sudden I feel an immense pressure of something hitting me in the shoulder/neck/head area. Not only was it extremely painful, but also extremely embarrassing. It was a basketball, nonetheless.
Now I know, this isn’t the first time in the history of the world that anyone has ever gotten hit with a ball of some sort. In fact, I get hit with them annually. This time it was pretty awful though.
Plus the guy that accidentally hit me also of course was super cute. Inside my mind many things would have happened. He would run over all Ashton Kutcher/Matthew McConaughey-like and ask me if I was okay. He would then smile at me with his big pearly perfect smile. He would buy me a coffee or an ice cream cone where we would talk about our interests. He would love dogs, music, and he would even hold the door for me. He would want to see me every day for the rest of his life because “when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone you want the rest of your life to start right now” (When Harry Met Sally), that kind of thing. We would get married and everyone would be so happy for us. We would live in a suburb with a chocolate lab and a Volvo and our two perfect children. He would dote on me and at our 50th anniversary party we would joke about that fateful day we met when he nailed me in the upper body region with a basketball. It would be love at first sight.
But that is what happens in movies.
This is Kaitie Nock’s life. A life filled with people hitting me while in turn accidentally injuring me but I laugh and pretend everything is okay because that is what I’ve been trained to do by society.
Instead the guy’s friend fights off laughter while the guy yells over to me “sorry! Can you toss it back please?”
Hey, at least he said sorry…and please. Still…not husband material.
I weakly throw the ball back and continue on my journey. The truth of the matter is that there is no such thing as Asthon Kutcher or Matthew McConaughey in real life. Those are movie characters. They also happen to be very cheesy movie characters that are constantly there to save the day. Now I’m not saying that there aren’t nice guys out there! There sure as hell are, and I’ve seen it. I’m just saying that they don’t seem to find me.
No, I’m stuck with guys that hit me with athletic equipment.
At least I have my pride.
Until next time,
Kaitie xo
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