Here I Am!

Hello everyone! I bet you were all wondering where I have been.....no? Ok then....

As many of you know, I have recently been employed by the state of NJ with DYFS (that's Department of Youth and Family Services for those of you out of the loop), which I am incredibly excited about. This post is not about my new job, but about the job I left behind. After getting laid off from Children's Choice, Mikey offered me a job at his office doing an assortment of things, from working at the front desk to running credit cards to....well, frolicking. It was a fun time, but that is not what I am here to write about.

Working at Mikey's company was my first real office job, complete with cubicles. All of the VIPS (ie Mikey, the vice presidents, salesmen and salesmen assistants) are located upstairs, and all of the paperwork people are located downstairs. As you can probably imagine, many of the people that work downstairs have been there for quite a number of years, processing papers from 9-4:45 every day. I personally cannot imagine doing such a job, but it works for them. Most of them, anyway.

When I arrived, the majority of people there were incredibly nice. I was, however, able to pick out who was miserable doing their jobs on my second day. When I got to work that day, the lovely Ms. Pat told me that there was a ton of paper that needed to be shredded. When I say a ton, I mean a *TON*. I literally spent an entire work day in the shredding room before I was finished. My general motto in life is that anything can be fun if you make it fun, so I put on my ipod and danced around as I shredded as quickly as possible. Towards the end of the day, around 4:15 or so, a woman walked in and needed a box off of a shelf. My bags of shredded paper were blocking her way, so she moved them up against a door which was caddycorner (shout out Sarah!) to where they had been, and leaning up against a sign that read "do not block door". The woman was struggling with her boxes, so I told her to leave the bags, I'd move then as soon as I finished up my last bit of shredding.

When 4:30 rolled around I had just about completed my last bit when she walked in. We will call her wench number two, or WN2 for short. WN2 walked in and proclaimed the room a mess. I informed her that I had just finished and was about to start cleaning. WN2 then said that the bags were blocking the door, and as I protested that they had just been moved there for a moment and I was about to put them back, she moved them herself. She then grabbed a broom and started to help; I thought that, despite her gruff demeanor, she was actually nice and trying to help. Little did I know that she was nothing more than wench number 1's henchman. WN1 opened the door and stood there with her hands on her hips for about two full minutes before stating (I'm paraphrasing) "This needs to be cleaned up. Immediately." Mind you, she said this as I was in the process of sweeping. As I explained this to her, she interrupted me to state, again "This needs to be cleaned up. This room is a mess."

I think I forgot to mention one tiny detail. The mess I had created, in the shredding room, after spending literally 8 hours shredding paper that the two wenches were too lazy to do themselves, was of SHREDDED PAPER. That is correct, I was being yelled at for getting shredded paper on the floor of the shredding paper room. Sometimes when I get nostalgic about getting paid well to do nothing I remember this incident. The nostalgia fades. Fast.

Oh the Irony

About a month ago, I was bored and looking around on MySpace. I found a guy's profile that I had gone to college with with whom I was not friends with but I thought was cute, so I messaged him. We exchanged im names, ended up hanging out and got along quite well. The first time he came to my house, he called when he was close to make sure he was going the right way. After I hung up the phone I realized that he was probably going to come through the front door. Those of you that have been to my house know that no one ever uses the front door. I turned on the front light and unlocked it (for the first time in months).

When he arrived I explained that no one ever uses that door. We hung out, got along well, and he came over a couple of days later. On that occasion, I again unlocked the front door and decided to start calling it Mikey's door. We hung out for a week or so (with him always arriving through the front door), but then our communication kind of fell off.

Last week we talked and decided that we didn't really click as well as we had hoped we would, so we called it quits. We're still friends blah blah blah, but a bit of irony came out of it. The day we had that talk I attempted to go through Mikey's door to get the mail, but the door was frozen shut. For real. And it's still frozen shut. If that's not irony, I don't know what is.

To Spoon or Not to Spoon

That is the question.

In college I aquired several male friends. I enjoy my friendships with men for reasons that vary from male to male, but there is one very nice perk of having male friends: snuggling.

My junior year I lived in the KW dorm, and most of my friends were abroad, which caused me to branch out in friendships, which in retrospect was a great thing. One friend I made was Zack, whom I began to refer to as Snuggleman. Early on in our friendship, Zack tried to kiss me, and I was not feeling it, as I was enjoying our friendship and did not want anything to get in the way of it. After that incident he never tried again (which doubly enforced my respect for him), and I began to make a habit of ending up in his room after drunk weekend nights, as he and Dock (his roomate) always had the afterparties, as well as a television and DVD player, both of which I lacked. After the party would settle down we would lay down to watch a movie, and Zack and I always ended up cuddling, which is how he got his nickname. It was never sexual, just nice to snuggle with a comfortable friend. He also was big, and had quite a teddy bear quality about him, which assisted in making him an excellent snuggler.

A few months ago I went to visit Brandon in Baltimore, we took a nap together and snuggled as well, and again it was comfortable and nice and not sexual in any sense. Same goes for Mikey. I love non sexual snuggling!

You may wonder where I'm going with this. A few weekends ago I traveled to DC for one of Big Will's infamous parties, and had a fabulous night. At the end of the evening, Bud and I decided to steal Will's bed. We jumped into the bed and Bud put his arms around me. Mind you, Bud is engaged to a friend of mine, so obviously it was totally platonic, and there was much space between us. However, in order to get us out, Will threatened to take a picture to show to Meg (the fiance), which sent Bud running upstairs to sleep on the futon. I followed him and Will up and proceeded to laugh as Will sprayed him with whipped cream. But, I digress.

I went back downstairs to sleep in Will's bed, as he has a huge comfy double bed. I laid down, he got in next to me and I waited for the inevitable arms around me. But, they never came. When I woke up I realized that Will was sleeping so far away from me he was practically about to fall off of the bed. When I inquired about his lack of snuggleness (as he is like a brother to me, and a very huggy, affectionate guy), he said that whenever he sleeps in beds with platonic friends he just can't snuggle with them, he thinks it's wierd. He also said that I was not the first friend of his to comment on this.

This makes me wonder. I viewed him as the odd one in the senerio, as have other platonic friends, but is he the odd one? I feel like the generation I've grown up in is much more co-ed than previous ones. My freshman year I lived on a co-ed hall, and my father was shocked that there would be boys living right across the hall. My sophmore and junior years I lived in the arts haus, where co-ed rooming occurred. My father told me that when he went to college there were no co-ed dorms whatsoever, and there was a cerfew for the women to assure that no men stayed in a woman's dorm overnight. As ridiculous as that sounds, that is how it was back in the day. This leaves me wondering, is it strange that I expect to cuddle with men that I view as totally platonic friends? Shouldn't it be wierd? I remember during a game of dare in hs I had to make out with my friend for a minute, and it was the most wooden, nonsexual kissing ever. If a man does not bring out any sexual feelings in me whatsoever, why would I want, let alone expect, to spoon with him?

And for the record, even if the guy you're spooning with views you as a sister type, there is still a chance for morning wood to occur. If, no make that when it does, just ignore it. Completely. And try not be get squicked out :).

Picky Picky Picky

I've come to a somewhat scary realization recently. I have a friend who is incredibly fickle when it comes to the people he/she dates. Granted, he/she is an attractive, intelligent, well-educated person who knows what he/she wants in a significant other and is not ashamed of that. However, I have teased him/her quite a bit about for breaking up with someone for what I consider to be silly reasons. I'm coming to realize that I may be more like him/her in this area than I care to admit. (Gender has been hidden to protect the fickle)

My last "real" boyfriend was quite a long time ago. About 5 years, to be exact. Granted, I have dated several men during this five year hiatus, but there was always an expiration date on each relationship. He was going to graduate a couple of months after we started dating, I was home for summer vacation, I was going to graduate soon, etc. I'm starting to realize that without these expiration dates on these relationships, I might not have let them progress for even the few months that each one existed.

In the past few months I've been out on dates with some guys, and have ended things with each of them for various reasons. Granted, I did end some of them for very legit reasons (like physical distance). I'm not going to go into specifics, but I fear that I have become a hypocrite and aquired my friend's dating style. Then I think of the last guy in Philly that I tried to date, who I went out with three times and had to formally break up with. He called me two or three weeks later begging to see me, and my old roomates told me he showed up at my old apartment, didn't believe them when they told him I had moved out (which I had), and referred to himself as my ex-boyfriend. Then I think I just have good judgement.

Captain Whiskey Dick to the Rescue! Dun Duh Duh!

Ah, Halloween weekend. A time of costume, candy and ridiculousness. This year was no exception. Allison and I decided to take a drive down to Scranton, PA for some partying, and party we did.

We arrived and met up with Wally, our host of the night, got costumed up and went to the first party. I have never seen such elaborate costumes in my life. There was a Burger King King, girls dressed a la Dazed and Confused (totally gonna be my costume next year, by the way), Ghostbusters, Dumb and Dumber, Prince (who was wearing a red vinal catsuit, had drawn in sideburns and had the symbol on a rope around his neck), etc. Now, Allison and I were dressed up as dominatrixes, complete with corsets, handcuffs, whips, blindfolds and feather ticklers. I had never worn a corset before, and it really affected me. Allison and I both got drunk very easily, and were kind of shaky all night. Aaaaanyway...

We decided to leave that party and go to the next. Kristin, whose house we were staying at, pretty much broke her ankle and we had to carry her to the next party, which was kind of a bust. We decided to help Kristin home. Once there, Allison and I had to walk to my car to get our stuff, which was parked at a friend's house a few blocks away. On our way there we ran into a dude that was wearing long johns, a white diaper-type thing, a red top and a long red cape. The sign on his chest read "W.D." We had to ask him what he was dressed as. "Captain Whiskey Dick. Duh." he said. I knew right then we were going to be friends, because that is AWESOME.

Captain Whiskey Dick and company wanted to go somewhere to smoke, so we told them to come with us; they could smoke in the parking lot where my car was parked, as it was in the backyard of people we knew. Once we arrived, however, it became apparent that they had nothing to smoke out of, so that idea was quickly abandoned. We sent them on their way and got our stuff, sleeping bags and all, out of our car and went on our way. Unfortunitly, we could not find our way back (I told you those corsets affected our thinking), so we ended up walking for a bit, where we ran into the Captain and his merry men again. They started laughing at us and, once we explained our predicament, invited us to crash at his apartment. We had no other option, as Wally's phone was dead and we had no idea how to get back to Kristens.

We dropped our stuff off at the Captain's, and his friend said there was a party going on at the art gallery across the street. Away we went. Upon arrival, however, it was clear that this "art" gallery had no art on the walls, and no alcohol was being served. It did, however, have a DJ and a TON of people in costume all dancing as if they were being cast in a teeny bopper movie. Everyone was dancing in pairs, being twirled and dipped. I had to sit down.

After that was done, we went back to the Captain's apartment and hung out. It ended up being me, Allison, the Captain and his friend Mike. We all just talked and hung out for a few hours before getting ready to sleep. Actually, just the Captain was trying to sleep and Mike would not let him. Oh yeah, one more thing~the Captain had JUST moved in, so there was nowhere to sleep except the floor and one chair, which was apparently named the "daddy chair". Allison immediately claimed that one.

I slept on the floor, but only managed to actually sleep after a long, involved arguemnt with Mike. He is a fan of our president. I don't think I need to tell you what we were arguing about.

When we finally went to sleep it was light out. Def the most random night of my life. The next morning I called Wally and told him we slept at Captain Whiskey Dick's apartment. Wally's response? "I don't even want to know why you girls know that about him. I don't want to know at all."

Yard Sale!

About a month ago was my boy Tony's 25th birthday. Allison and I loaded up the good ol Buick and drove on down to PA to assist in the celebration. The night was ridiculous. Cassie rented a stretch Hummer limo to drive us to Top Dog, where we were guided right up to the skybox VIP section. Several bottles of Kettle One and Captain later we were all feelin pretty good. The bouncers knew who we were, so as I would leave and arrive at the VIP box they would move asside and help me up the stairs. I honestly felt like a celebrity that night. Cameron Diaz has nothin' on me. Well, except for an incredibly gorgous boyfriend. And millions of dollars. And perfect hair. But other than that, we're totally the same :).

Once we got back to Tony's house it became obvious that there were fewer beds than slumberers (is that a word?), so his friend Chris offered a spot for me to sleep at his house, being that he lives a few doors down. Who am I to pass up a free bed?

We arrived at Chris's house, which is actually Chris's parents house, and promptly passed out in his bed. That's it. Had I known what the morning was going to bring I never would have accepted his offer to sleep at his place.

We woke up fairly early and everything seemed normal. We chatted for a little bit, as it had been a while since we had talked. All of a sudden I heard voices outside. I inquired as to who they were, and Chris was like oh yeah I forgot, my mom's having a yard sale today. A YARD SALE. Right outside of my ONLY escape route. Chris didn't see what the big deal was. Then the main phone line rang. Chris answered it and handed me the phone. "Here. They want to talk to you."

I held the reciever up to my ear and heard hysterical laughter. "Yo Kelly, you gotta look outside. You won't believe it." Oh but I already knew. How was I going to get out of there? I asked Chris if there was a back door I could use. There was, but you have to walk along the side of the house and to the front to get back to Tony's house. I had no choice. I had to just do it.

I borrowed a tee shirt from Chris so at least I wasn't wearing my whorish tank top from the night before, but there was little damage control that could really be done. I sucked it up and went out there. Chris proceeded to introduce me to his mother. His MOTHER. She seemed nice enough, but you could tell she was thinking about what a whore I was for defiling his son. Which I didn't even do. I hate everything.

Chris was nice enough to walk me back to Tony's, where Allison, Cass and Tony were waiting to laugh at us on the front lawn. Cass even had the foresight to have her trusty camera ready to snap our picture, and proceeded to post the picture on the internet. Hahahaha. I WILL get her back for that, I swear it. Watch your back, Cassandra Lee...payback's a bitch.

You do realize that you just did that because he's so hot, right?

That is the sentence that I uttered to my best friend Allison as we left the store. She turned to me, thought about it for a second, then busted out laughing. "You know, you're right" she said, before erupting into another fit of giggles.

Allow me to elaborate. It's Monday on Labor Day weekend. Allison and I had gone out in Seaside Hieghts the night before (her idea, not mine), and had driven Allison's car there to save on cab fair. Therefore, a trip to the boardwalk was necessary on Monday in order to pick up her car. We figured we might as well spend some time on the boardwalk, as it was a nice day. Allison decided that she needed a sneak-a-toke, so we went from store to store looking for one. We finally went into a store, the store... we asked a guy behind the counter if they had one, and he said no. As we started to leave, all of a sudden Allison starts browsing at the counter at Philly blunts. I was kind of wondering what she was doing, but then I looked up and it all made sense. There stood a gorgeous man, Dave. Dave engaged us in conversation about piercings; apparently he is the resident piercer. Allison mentions she's always wanted to stretch her hole in her ear, but decides against it. Next thing I know she's in the back room getting a conch piercing. I really don't fully remember how he did it, but the man is smooth. He was also trying to convince me to buy body jewelry from him by standing really really close to me. If I hadn't gotten out when I did I probably would've fallen into his trap as well.

For the record, talking to particularly attractive men has never been an issue for me. I think it's silly to get all flustered just because you're attracted to someone. However, when talking to this guy....I haven't felt like that since probably 8th grade. I couldn't look directly at him for too long a period of time (it was kind of like staring into the sun), and when I talked to him I could feel my face instantly redden. Silly, I know.

So now you know why Allison has a conch piercing. If you see her, be sure to compliment her on it, and ask her what inspired her to do it...