I have my second miserable head cold of 2010. The first one came just after the new year began and I was in bad shape for two weeks. This one seems to be getting better after a couple of days so I'm hopeful. I think I caught the cold on a flight back from D.C. last week. I had a window seat and was sitting next to the human petri dish who refused to cover his mouth when he coughed or sneezed. He had a body odor that was a combination of urine and sweat. And then he took off his shoes for the 4 hour flight. The smell was delightful. And then, as if that wasn't enough, 10 minutes before we landed he pulled a foot-long Subway sandwich from his bag. It was something with a lot of cured meats and vinegar and it smelled so god-awful when combined everything else nearly sent me over the edge. It took everything I had not to beat him about the head and body with my book and fists. I kept thinking I would be arrested by air marshalls. And that arrest would, of course, make the news and my family and friends would see me being hauled off in handcuffs while screaming something about sneezing and meat. And then I thought about you guys, the few readers I have left, who would find out via the 10 o'clock news that I was still alive but had clearly lost my ever-loving mind because instead of writing, I now assault rude, thoughtless people on airplanes.
Anyway, I'm alive and I've missed writing so I'm back. Not making any promises on frequency or quality but I'm back.
Showing posts with label jackass. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jackass. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Monday, March 17, 2008
When a Litte Innocent Flirting Goes Horribly, Horribly Wrong
After meeting me only once he told someone he thought I was "distant". This seemed rather odd to me because just how "close" should one be after meeting only once? We met over a year ago and I'd only seen him once or twice since then. At least that was true up until January.
He asked me to meet him for a drink last week. I declined. Seemed the prudent thing to do given the last few months. Maybe I should probably go back and explain the last few months...
So it was the day Heath Ledger died and we were out with mutual friends. While watching the CNN ticker on Heath, he commented on my vast knowledge of pop culture. It was done with sarcasm and I'm a big fan of sarcasm so somewhere around the third drink, flirting ensued. It seemed harmless given the age gap between us; the numbers were more heavily weighted on my side. (Sidebar: This is highly unusual for me as I am usually the younger one. The last two each had several years on me.) Anyway, Junior and I did some flirting. I've always been a big fan of harmless flirting and this time was no different...until I found out he had a girlfriend. Now I may be a flirt, but not with someone else's significant other so I cut it off. Later that night, my phone rang as I crawled into bed. He apologized for the flirting and then, in the same breath, began flirting again. I cut him off, said good night and ended the call. Ten minutes later, he called back. I said good night again and turned off my phone in an attempt to cut the booty call off at the pass.
We saw eachother several times over the next few weeks and his behavior was all over the board, ranging from fun and friendly to cold and curt. He seemed to keep an eye on me when we were out which, at first, I thought was just because I'd gotten hit on one night and complained that none of the guys came to save me from the guy with too much cologne. Junior laughed and said he would be sure to run interference if it happened again. He seemed fine that night. Of course a few days later he was a total ass for seemingly no reason whatsoever.
A few weeks later, we ended up at the same Super Bowl party and he seemed ok but later I found out that he became rather jealous when I walked into the party with another guy. For the record, I didn't come with anyone, just ran into a friend at the front door. And again, for the record, Junior has a girlfriend. She lives on the other side of the country and I'm well versed on how tough a long-distance relationship can be, however, that is no excuse for a) the flirting or b) the jealousy.
The next time I saw him he was such an ass I could barely stand to be around him. I tried to keep things light and breezy but he wanted to be a fucknut because someone asked about a guy I met while in Austin. It seems only right that the guy with the girlfriend would treat me - the single girl - like crap for talking to someone.
Now I hate to admit it, but just a few years ago, that kind of behavior would have been a total turn on for me. Not the part about the girlfriend but the hot and cold routine was like Spanish Fly to me for many years. I guess I saw it as a challenge. These days though, it's exhausting and annoying and I have no interest in men who behave that way. Hooray for personal growth!
So when he asked me to meet him for a drink last week, I declined. I didn't give a reason or suggest another time, I just declined. I spent a good deal of time last year getting rid of people in my life who didn't deserve to be there; I don't see the point of taking on any new ones.
If he thought I was distant before, I can only imagine what he thinks of me now. If only I cared...
He asked me to meet him for a drink last week. I declined. Seemed the prudent thing to do given the last few months. Maybe I should probably go back and explain the last few months...
So it was the day Heath Ledger died and we were out with mutual friends. While watching the CNN ticker on Heath, he commented on my vast knowledge of pop culture. It was done with sarcasm and I'm a big fan of sarcasm so somewhere around the third drink, flirting ensued. It seemed harmless given the age gap between us; the numbers were more heavily weighted on my side. (Sidebar: This is highly unusual for me as I am usually the younger one. The last two each had several years on me.) Anyway, Junior and I did some flirting. I've always been a big fan of harmless flirting and this time was no different...until I found out he had a girlfriend. Now I may be a flirt, but not with someone else's significant other so I cut it off. Later that night, my phone rang as I crawled into bed. He apologized for the flirting and then, in the same breath, began flirting again. I cut him off, said good night and ended the call. Ten minutes later, he called back. I said good night again and turned off my phone in an attempt to cut the booty call off at the pass.
We saw eachother several times over the next few weeks and his behavior was all over the board, ranging from fun and friendly to cold and curt. He seemed to keep an eye on me when we were out which, at first, I thought was just because I'd gotten hit on one night and complained that none of the guys came to save me from the guy with too much cologne. Junior laughed and said he would be sure to run interference if it happened again. He seemed fine that night. Of course a few days later he was a total ass for seemingly no reason whatsoever.
A few weeks later, we ended up at the same Super Bowl party and he seemed ok but later I found out that he became rather jealous when I walked into the party with another guy. For the record, I didn't come with anyone, just ran into a friend at the front door. And again, for the record, Junior has a girlfriend. She lives on the other side of the country and I'm well versed on how tough a long-distance relationship can be, however, that is no excuse for a) the flirting or b) the jealousy.
The next time I saw him he was such an ass I could barely stand to be around him. I tried to keep things light and breezy but he wanted to be a fucknut because someone asked about a guy I met while in Austin. It seems only right that the guy with the girlfriend would treat me - the single girl - like crap for talking to someone.
Now I hate to admit it, but just a few years ago, that kind of behavior would have been a total turn on for me. Not the part about the girlfriend but the hot and cold routine was like Spanish Fly to me for many years. I guess I saw it as a challenge. These days though, it's exhausting and annoying and I have no interest in men who behave that way. Hooray for personal growth!
So when he asked me to meet him for a drink last week, I declined. I didn't give a reason or suggest another time, I just declined. I spent a good deal of time last year getting rid of people in my life who didn't deserve to be there; I don't see the point of taking on any new ones.
If he thought I was distant before, I can only imagine what he thinks of me now. If only I cared...
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Open Letter to An Idiot
Dear Blocked Caller,
As much as I enjoyed your game of "Call Kendra's Cell Dozens of Times from a Blocked Number" today, I'm going to ask you to kindly knock it off.
It was one thing when you did it while I was out shopping with my sister, Karlie. It was somewhat irritating when I returned from a walk with the Brown dog to find 4 more calls on my cell. And when I finally answered while I was cooking dinner and you just sat there not saying anything, I was mostly polite when I asked you to stop calling. All of that was annoying but when you continued to call during "Entourage", you took it too damn far. Because of that, I was forced to turn my phone off, which led me to forgetting to turn it back on after Vinnie & Co. successfully secured a flight to Cannes, which led me to missing a call from someone (you know, someone who would actually SPEAK WORDS), which led to me trying that person back but not reaching them, which, ultimately, left me more irritated with you than previously thought possible.
And so now, dear caller, I will be forced to sleep with my phone off for the evening because the only thing that could put you any higher on my shit list would be if you decided to disturb my slumber. And so if some psychopath decides to break into my house tonight and I go to reach for my cell to call the cops - because everyone knows the psychopath has already cut the land lines so there's no point in reaching for that phone - and I can't turn the cell phone on AND call 911 before aforementioned psychopath reaches my bedroom, well, you'll be totally responsible for my demise.
And if none of that happens, you'll still be the fucker who called from a blocked number all day.
Hugs and a swift kick in the ass,
KC
As much as I enjoyed your game of "Call Kendra's Cell Dozens of Times from a Blocked Number" today, I'm going to ask you to kindly knock it off.
It was one thing when you did it while I was out shopping with my sister, Karlie. It was somewhat irritating when I returned from a walk with the Brown dog to find 4 more calls on my cell. And when I finally answered while I was cooking dinner and you just sat there not saying anything, I was mostly polite when I asked you to stop calling. All of that was annoying but when you continued to call during "Entourage", you took it too damn far. Because of that, I was forced to turn my phone off, which led me to forgetting to turn it back on after Vinnie & Co. successfully secured a flight to Cannes, which led me to missing a call from someone (you know, someone who would actually SPEAK WORDS), which led to me trying that person back but not reaching them, which, ultimately, left me more irritated with you than previously thought possible.
And so now, dear caller, I will be forced to sleep with my phone off for the evening because the only thing that could put you any higher on my shit list would be if you decided to disturb my slumber. And so if some psychopath decides to break into my house tonight and I go to reach for my cell to call the cops - because everyone knows the psychopath has already cut the land lines so there's no point in reaching for that phone - and I can't turn the cell phone on AND call 911 before aforementioned psychopath reaches my bedroom, well, you'll be totally responsible for my demise.
And if none of that happens, you'll still be the fucker who called from a blocked number all day.
Hugs and a swift kick in the ass,
KC
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Who Says You Can't Meet a Nice Guy at a Bar?
Ok, I'm giving the people what they want. Here's the insult story...
A few weekends ago my friend Liz and I had decided to head to Sushi Hai for dinner. After dinner we decided to grab a few drinks so we walked to Three Dogs, a Highlands bar. We actually started out at another bar but after a few minutes we decided we wanted someplace a little more laid back and Three Dogs is definately casual and the crowd is usually pretty fun. Please note my use of the word "usually" in that last sentence.
So we ordered our drinks and no sooner did we step away from the bar when a guy walks up and starts talking. Right away it's clear that he's a few drinks ahead of me but he seems totally harmless. A few minutes later his friend introduces himself to us and starts chatting up Liz. So I'm standing there talking to the first guy (couldn't tell you his name if my life depended on it) and after about two minutes I realize I'm talking to the Self-Involved Guy. In that amount of time he'd told me that he was from Indiana (or was it Iowa?), moved to Denver two years ago after his bitter, bitter divorce and owned his own company. He spent a great deal of time telling me all about the company that he started with his best-friend (the guy talking to Liz). Then, he went on and on about his divorce and how she said she "just had to get out". Then he went back to all the facinating details of his company. By that time, my beer was totally gone because besides the occasional "uh huh" or head nod, I hadn't said a word. He found himself endlessly fasinating and just continued flapping his jaws. Because I'm a perpetual smartass I just kept drinking to keep me from blurting out any remarks that were floating through my head. (Example: When he told me his ex-wife said she "just had to get out", my brain screamed, "I feel her pain.") Anyway, my beer was almost empty and Self-Involved Guy kept getting closer and closer to me, thus blocking my escape to the bar. He could clearly see my beer was empty and he didn't offer to buy me another which I thought was just poor manners because everyone knows if you're going to bore a girl to tears with stories of you, you, YOU, the least you can do is provide liquor to dull her pain. But homeboy was totally oblivious and instead proceeded to push himself against me, grab the hem of my sundress and tell me that my legs looked good. I'd been a good sport up to this point but he was testing my patience. I don't really remember what happened next but he said something and I was unable to stop the smartass remark from leaping out of my mouth. Anyway, he got pretty offended. Rather than taking that opportunity to run like hell, I explained that I was just joking around. He informed me that jokes are supposed to be funny. I countered that it was, in fact, a little funny. He argued that it wasn't even a little funny. And then he said this...
"You're a cute girl. But don't try to be one of those girls who thinks they're funny too. Stick with cute because you're not funny."
The last three words echoed in my head..."YOU'RE NOT FUNNY". I stood there for a moment while I tried to process the fact that this numbnuts just told me I was cute but not funny. In my entire life, I've never been told I wasn't funny. I would have rather heard him say I was ugly but hilarious. It's not like I'm thinking of a career in stand-up but I know I'm witty. I make people laugh all the time. I'm a hoot, damnit. I wanted to take my empty beer bottle and crush it over his self involved skull. I realize I shouldn't give a rats ass what some drunk thinks of me but I like to think that my humor is evident even the most intoxicated individual.
He then informed me that he had to go to the bathroom but that he'd buy me a beer when he got back. There wasn't enough beer at that bar (or the other five on that block) to keep me there. I noticed that Liz was about to impale herself on a pool stick to end the misery of talking to the other guy so I interrupted and told her that I needed to get home. We made a break for the door when I remembered I had to close my tab at the other end of the bar. As I stood there waiting for my credit card, I noticed Self-Involved Guy had returned from the bathroom and was looking for us at the far end of the bar.
I may not have been funny that night but watching his dumb ass look around for me? Now that was a little funny.
A few weekends ago my friend Liz and I had decided to head to Sushi Hai for dinner. After dinner we decided to grab a few drinks so we walked to Three Dogs, a Highlands bar. We actually started out at another bar but after a few minutes we decided we wanted someplace a little more laid back and Three Dogs is definately casual and the crowd is usually pretty fun. Please note my use of the word "usually" in that last sentence.
So we ordered our drinks and no sooner did we step away from the bar when a guy walks up and starts talking. Right away it's clear that he's a few drinks ahead of me but he seems totally harmless. A few minutes later his friend introduces himself to us and starts chatting up Liz. So I'm standing there talking to the first guy (couldn't tell you his name if my life depended on it) and after about two minutes I realize I'm talking to the Self-Involved Guy. In that amount of time he'd told me that he was from Indiana (or was it Iowa?), moved to Denver two years ago after his bitter, bitter divorce and owned his own company. He spent a great deal of time telling me all about the company that he started with his best-friend (the guy talking to Liz). Then, he went on and on about his divorce and how she said she "just had to get out". Then he went back to all the facinating details of his company. By that time, my beer was totally gone because besides the occasional "uh huh" or head nod, I hadn't said a word. He found himself endlessly fasinating and just continued flapping his jaws. Because I'm a perpetual smartass I just kept drinking to keep me from blurting out any remarks that were floating through my head. (Example: When he told me his ex-wife said she "just had to get out", my brain screamed, "I feel her pain.") Anyway, my beer was almost empty and Self-Involved Guy kept getting closer and closer to me, thus blocking my escape to the bar. He could clearly see my beer was empty and he didn't offer to buy me another which I thought was just poor manners because everyone knows if you're going to bore a girl to tears with stories of you, you, YOU, the least you can do is provide liquor to dull her pain. But homeboy was totally oblivious and instead proceeded to push himself against me, grab the hem of my sundress and tell me that my legs looked good. I'd been a good sport up to this point but he was testing my patience. I don't really remember what happened next but he said something and I was unable to stop the smartass remark from leaping out of my mouth. Anyway, he got pretty offended. Rather than taking that opportunity to run like hell, I explained that I was just joking around. He informed me that jokes are supposed to be funny. I countered that it was, in fact, a little funny. He argued that it wasn't even a little funny. And then he said this...
"You're a cute girl. But don't try to be one of those girls who thinks they're funny too. Stick with cute because you're not funny."
The last three words echoed in my head..."YOU'RE NOT FUNNY". I stood there for a moment while I tried to process the fact that this numbnuts just told me I was cute but not funny. In my entire life, I've never been told I wasn't funny. I would have rather heard him say I was ugly but hilarious. It's not like I'm thinking of a career in stand-up but I know I'm witty. I make people laugh all the time. I'm a hoot, damnit. I wanted to take my empty beer bottle and crush it over his self involved skull. I realize I shouldn't give a rats ass what some drunk thinks of me but I like to think that my humor is evident even the most intoxicated individual.
He then informed me that he had to go to the bathroom but that he'd buy me a beer when he got back. There wasn't enough beer at that bar (or the other five on that block) to keep me there. I noticed that Liz was about to impale herself on a pool stick to end the misery of talking to the other guy so I interrupted and told her that I needed to get home. We made a break for the door when I remembered I had to close my tab at the other end of the bar. As I stood there waiting for my credit card, I noticed Self-Involved Guy had returned from the bathroom and was looking for us at the far end of the bar.
I may not have been funny that night but watching his dumb ass look around for me? Now that was a little funny.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Update on the Kleptomaniac
I emailed the blogging bandit (Cheryl says she doesn't warrant capitalization and I agree) the same day I put the last post up. I asked her to please stop using my stuff as her own and to remove all posts she had previously stolen. I told her if I found anything else of mine on her blog I would not only post a link to her blog but also her email address. Then I may have thrown around a few words I learned in law school. (Sidebar: Gmail needs to come up with an emoticon that conveys "shaking fist in righteous indignation" because that would have come in handy for my email to her.) She never responded but when I checked this morning, her entire blog was gone. Just gone. Not just my posts but the whole damn thing. Wanna hear the stupid part? For a fraction of a millisecond, I felt bad. I sort of pictured her reading my email and just freaking right the fuck out. And then I thought maybe I took it all just a bit too far. I thought maybe I'd been too confrontational - as I've been known to do from time to time.
Until...
I started getting comment and emails from you guys and I realized I wasn't the only one who thought what this girl did was total crap. Like a bunch of angry villagers with torches and pitchforks, you guys wanted a piece of her. And then I realized I had nothing to feel bad about. If she wanted to take down the whole thing, that wasn't my fault. A friend pointed out that perhaps she was worried someone would post things on her blog about the whole situation and so she just did away with it.
Anyway, the thing that killed me was seeing comments that people had posted about one of my posts giving her credit for it. She stole one of my all time favorites and people were telling her what a great writer she was. And I was sitting there yelling at my computer screen that she was nothing but a...say it with me...thieving ho.
So, the good news is, it's all over. But man, if she (or anyone else) does it again I'm unleashing you guys on her because for a girl who values loyalty the way I do, I was tickled pink at your reactions. You are not people I would want to piss off.
Did I mention I love you for that? 'Cause I do.
Until...
I started getting comment and emails from you guys and I realized I wasn't the only one who thought what this girl did was total crap. Like a bunch of angry villagers with torches and pitchforks, you guys wanted a piece of her. And then I realized I had nothing to feel bad about. If she wanted to take down the whole thing, that wasn't my fault. A friend pointed out that perhaps she was worried someone would post things on her blog about the whole situation and so she just did away with it.
Anyway, the thing that killed me was seeing comments that people had posted about one of my posts giving her credit for it. She stole one of my all time favorites and people were telling her what a great writer she was. And I was sitting there yelling at my computer screen that she was nothing but a...say it with me...thieving ho.
So, the good news is, it's all over. But man, if she (or anyone else) does it again I'm unleashing you guys on her because for a girl who values loyalty the way I do, I was tickled pink at your reactions. You are not people I would want to piss off.
Did I mention I love you for that? 'Cause I do.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
If This Blog were McDonalds, She'd be the Hamburglar
I have this blog because I like to write. I never said I was any good at it and I never said that every post was a literary masterpiece. I never said I was a writer...I'm just a girl who likes to write.
That being said, I always get a kick when I see someone has been reading a lot of my posts in one sitting. When that happens I often wonder if they're just really bored or if they actually like what they're reading.
I was checking Sitemeter today as I'm known to do rather frequently because dammit, if people are gonna lurk I want to at least know where they are and what posts their reading. (Yes, I realize this makes me 8 shades of lame but I'm ok with that.) A craptastic thing happened today when I was checking out Sitemeter. It took me to a blog with several posts that I'd seen before - ON MY BLOG.
I had several reactions to this discovery.
Reaction 1 - "What the fu*k?!"
Reaction 2 - "Why didn't this theiving ho steal from a REAL writer instead of me?"
Reaction 3 - "Well, they do say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery..."
Reaction 4 - "Screw that last diplomatic reaction. This girl is passing off my writing as her own - typos and all."
Reaction 5 - "Ok Kendra, find your happy place. Perhaps she was fresh out of ideas of her own and she merely wanted to borrow a few of yours."
Reaction 6 - "Help the girl out with her next post."
And so for the Blogging Bandit I've put together a few words you are free to use as your own...
That being said, I always get a kick when I see someone has been reading a lot of my posts in one sitting. When that happens I often wonder if they're just really bored or if they actually like what they're reading.
I was checking Sitemeter today as I'm known to do rather frequently because dammit, if people are gonna lurk I want to at least know where they are and what posts their reading. (Yes, I realize this makes me 8 shades of lame but I'm ok with that.) A craptastic thing happened today when I was checking out Sitemeter. It took me to a blog with several posts that I'd seen before - ON MY BLOG.
I had several reactions to this discovery.
Reaction 1 - "What the fu*k?!"
Reaction 2 - "Why didn't this theiving ho steal from a REAL writer instead of me?"
Reaction 3 - "Well, they do say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery..."
Reaction 4 - "Screw that last diplomatic reaction. This girl is passing off my writing as her own - typos and all."
Reaction 5 - "Ok Kendra, find your happy place. Perhaps she was fresh out of ideas of her own and she merely wanted to borrow a few of yours."
Reaction 6 - "Help the girl out with her next post."
And so for the Blogging Bandit I've put together a few words you are free to use as your own...
I am lame and the only creativity I have is held in my ability to cut and paste.
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