Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Kadyisms: Volume 38

“I don't know if I'm supposed to give up on love. Or if I should keep pursuing it.”

“Three years ago I was 34 and still really young.”

“I don't know why you're so bad at Kadyisms. All I know is that when I'm doing Summerisms, I listen for all the funny things and then I write them down.”

“Of course it has to be $h!t related!”

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Kadyisms: Volume 37, Which Is Practically 40

“I'm never gonna remember that I'm not drinking.”

“I'm actually just living the life I've always lived.”

“Who are you? You used to be somebody.”

“You did such an amazing crack job on my back at some point in our lives that my whole back was like—fddttttt fddttttt fffddddttttt!”

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Kadyisms: Volume 36—Like the Age She Once Was

“What if you become, like...kind of a happy person?”

“Oh my gawd—last time we went there, I was hilarious.”

“Well I made out with him; it was my job to know his ethnic background.”

“If he were six inches taller, he'd already be married.”

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Links for Lazy Writers Like Me

Roobyn + Royksopp = so much yes!

White male painters have been turning the ennui of ladies into art for a long time. If you haven't seen this yet, you've been missing out.

I can one-hundred percent get behind this emoji-only social media platform. Choosing my emoji name, however? Unimaginable. This mission shall certainly keep me up at night.

I always love the mystery behind a really great book dedication. Think about the thousands of hours that go into a novel. When I finally finish one I think I'm going to dedicate it to Walter—unless I know a Walter by then. I think I may have a distant cousin... Anyways, here are some quite-funny ones.

I'm always in support of photo montages of beautiful places.

"We'll never have a life like this..." I sort of hate myself for the way I covet the homes of people who are not me. But there's something extra-covet-inducing about literary/academic types. Case in point.

Monday, July 7, 2014

Mom Blog Monday: Domestic Goddess

No doubt you all recall my great dilemma of 2014. Well, you guys will never believe it. But I took care of business. I ripped off the bandaid.

I thankfully received some incredibly helpful advice from readers:

Oh for cryin' out loud! If you can't throw it out, then just eat it already. If it makes you sick and you throw up, then you'll get to see it again and I'm sure that will make you happy since you seem to have fallen in love with that dumb turkey leg.

No, wait—that's not it...

I liked this helpful part where my mom said it wasn't my fault:

Hobo Siren—Truth is, You are NOT to blame. Because yesterday when I cleaned out my truck, I found a large paper bag of costly refrigerated groceries that came out of my old apartment. I'm sure you well remember that apartment, it was the one you cleaned & helped me vacate on March 31, which was only 22 days ago!! So the real problem here is, You just did NOT pick your Mom & Dad very well, ha!!!!

But the most helpful advice came from my treasured reader, L—:

So I think that takes care of the problem, right? 

Thursday, July 3, 2014

The Tides Have Changed: Part One

Frankly, it's a bit hard to explain—but if you know me well, you know this one thing about me: the last couple of years? They just weren't my years.

They were, in many ways, improbably bad. As in—how can that many truly inconvenient things happen to one person so consistently? And it's not like they were all huge things. Maybe the catalyst was a couple of huge-ish things, but the rest of it was a bit more diffused: nuisances and vexations fitfully scattered throughout my days, weeks and months...

If five cars were parked exactly the same in a parking lot and one got towed, it was mine; If someone's restaurant order got misplaced, it was mine—and my place setting and stomach sat empty as a table of seven dove into their entrees until I gave up on getting the server's attention; If a Turkish man hit on my friend all day, it was my mouth he chose to attack with his in the guesthouse kitchen...
One time a schizophrenic woman assaulted me in a restroom, and my friends' response was a simple “Of course that would happen to you.”

Listen: I realize sometimes I've flat-out made bad decisions that led to my own demise, and I realize that lovely serial list above doesn't represent “very big things”. I realize I lead an incredibly privileged existence compared to the majority of the world. That's why I refer to these mishaps as nuisances and vexations rather than fiascos and disasters—though I've had my share of those as well (but, you know, my poor mom and dad read Hobo Siren, and neither need think of me in any condition other than blissful contentment—basking in the shade of my own hard work).

But, readers, the tides have been altered. And things...have started going really well for me. Like, really well. I recently had a day where I wrote down all of the good things that happened so I wouldn't forget them. Here are a few excerpts from that list:
  • slept last night
  • got free eggs and tea from B
  • found convenient and free parking spot!
  • got validation about thing with the thing
And it only got better from there.

Really, really great things kept happening to me. Aloud—on several occasions—I demanded an answer to the pressing question, “WHOSE LIFE IS THIS?” Things were going so well I bought a white blazer. (In the end that was a mistake, but that's beside the point.)

But one day I found myself pondering the conservation of matter or energy or whatever—and how bla bla bla cannot be created or destroyed, only transferred and bla bla bla.

Or whatever.

It was just a passing thought.

And then my friend M took me for pizza across the street so we could talk bisnes bisnes. We each ordered an individual pizza. And when they arrived, I took one glance and quickly surveyed that my pizza was 30 percent larger than M's, and I knew in that instance that the curse was indeed broken. However, it had been passed on to those who care for me.