Tag Archive: texting


There is no other day that I wish more than anything that I was still in college than on St. Patrick’s Day.

I mean, most days I wish I was still in college, and I think it’s retarded that we were all dying to graduate when we were already in the part of our lives that truly is the best part. Even more retarded is that I didn’t drag out my time in college longer than the four years I was already there.

I mean, where else is it completely acceptable to literally drink all day?  I don’t just mean day drinking, tailgate style.  I mean waking up and pounding a jello shot or two and head to work only to get out at noon and immediately start drinking to catch up to where everyone else is.

A household divided: pepsi vs coke. What’s your pref??

One very important concept I learned in college is playing catch-up. Don’t do it.  Poor. Life. Choice.

Luckily, I had really good friends who reminded me to slow the fuck down and pace myself. A good friend and roommate who looked out for me and made me pb&j sandwiches (on more occasions than one) so I would have consumed something other than caffeine and alcohol when we started drinking.

Lunch of champions/functioning alcoholics!

It’s not appropriate for me to spend the entire day wasted, take a nap at 6pm and wake up an hour later to continue consuming more alcohol than is recommended by the government.  It’s not appropriate to continually lose misplace my ID and debit card only to find it in a different pair of jeans because I had forgotten I had changed pants at the last minute (I would). It’s not appropriate to drunkenly sext frat boys. Nor is it appropriate to try to steal some poor man’s golden retriever (Erica! Okay, it was mostly me.).

Oh, Mandy…!

It’s not appropriate to disappear for extended periods of time with said frat boy under the guise of “washing my hands.” It didn’t matter that Erica knew I wasn’t washing my hands.  No one washes their hands that often, or for more than 20 seconds. Or for, like, 40 minutes at a time.

Whatever.  I never said I was a good liar.

None of that is appropriate.  Anymore.

Because I’m not in college. Anymore.

Because I’m old.

I hope everyone had a safe and very happy St. Patrick’s Day!

I spent mine lunching with a member of the tripod, shopping for new makeup, hitting up the library, doing homework and now I’m going to a Sugarland Concert!

Not too shabby! 🙂

There’s a story that seems to come up all the time at work. It gets talked about between us girls and it gets told in front of our customers. It’s all-around excellent, always appropriate story.

If dead animals and murder are always appropriate and excellent.

One morning, I was driving to work. I wasn’t running late, I wasn’t in a hurry, I wasn’t feeling rushed. I was just driving, like normal. I was probably listening to Justin Bieber. I had probably stopped at starbucks and thought it had the promise of a good day.

And then a squirrel darted across the street. And then it stopped. And it turned around, darting back the way it came. And then it stopped again. And turned around to go the way it was originally going. And then it stopped.

I watched all of this happen.  And I thought it was finally gonna cross the street. So I took my foot off the brake and started to accelerate again.

Then the little guy changed his mind one last time. I didn’t have time to stop. I wanted to, really. I can’t even tell you how badly I wanted to stop the car. But, dear readers, even with cat-like reflexes, that little squirrel couldn’t be saved. I ran the squirrel over.

I’m a murderer.

At that moment, I burst into tears.

Then, I busted out my phone and mass-texted the shit out of my phonebook. I texted my dad, my mom, two or three of my coworkers, and a couple other friends. It was highly upsetting.

My parents tried to make me feel better by sharing their roadkill woes. It didn’t work.

When I got to work, I still couldn’t shake the feeling of being a murderer.  I had stopped crying, but I still felt really bad.  My first customer asked me how I was doing, and he got an answer he definitely hadn’t been anticipating.

“Well, I ran over a squirrel this morning, so now I’m a murderer. Today’s not going how I thought it was gonna go.”

Silence.

And then my coworkers piped up with tons of laughter and did work to make what just came out of my mouth way less awkward.

It’s now a classic tale shared with all. I enjoy that this story is shared with friends and strangers alike. I enjoy that months later this story comes up out of nowhere and takes the workplace by storm. The story goes over really, really well too. There’s just something about me, I guess, that makes people find murder endearing.

My jury duty service is now over! The trial finished yesterday afternoon, and I’ve been just bursting to tell you what happened!

Here’s the deal, loves: I’ll share my jury duty experience in three parts, starting with my first-day-observations. You know, the words-to-go documents saved on my Crackberry I told you about last week.  I’ll tell you the specifics of the case and then I’ll tell you about our verdict and how deliberations went.

I know you’re all dying to know.

My very first day, just to give you a snapshot of what a mess I was, I texted a friend then decided to tweet the following:

Already got lost, almost cried, forgot to put deodorant on, got wanded by security,& left all my school stuff at home. Today is going so well.

It should be noted that I have, like, zero sense of direction, so I obviously got lost (despite my mapquest directions) on my way to the courthouse. Then, because I was lost and because I’m so anal about not being late for anything ever, I got hysterical. This led to high levels of stress and anxiety, and that led to some degree of perspiration, not that the humidity here in Michigan did anything to help that. And that was when I realized I definitely forgot to put deodorant on. The Horror!! I just kept thinking, I had it in my hand, but did I actually put it on?! and I totally didn’t, which makes me wonder what on earth made me so ADD that morning to forget something so essential?!

I had my final night of my accounting class that evening I realized I didn’t have any of my school stuff after I had already left and didn’t have enough time to turn around and go back.  I wasn’t sure if I would have time in between my jury duty stuff and when I needed to leave to drive the hour and fifteen minutes it takes to get to class from my hometown. MORE PANIC! Why, oh WHY, did I not wear deodorant?! How is it possible to apply my Dolce and Gabbana Light Blue perfume but forget the deodorant?!??! HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?!

Once I got past security and followed other people I assumed to be reporting for jury duty down a hallway, I found the jury assembly room. Nothing special. Just a big room with beige walls and lots of chairs. And plenty of opportunity to people-watch and judge ’til my heart was content!  That’s when it struck me to record my thoughts via words-to-go.

Sometimes I have really good ideas.

Title: Jury duty observations

There are several unattractive people here. Many of the people  here in this holding pen have sick coughs. Gloria, in all her monochromatic glory, scanned all of us in. (She’s in charge of wrangling all of us potential-jurors.) She’s fabulous: I love her hair, and her plum colored tank-skirt combo is simply stunning.   She just put in a “movie” for us to watch while we wait in “line” to be scanned in. (This is one of the worst “lines” I’ve ever seen, although it certainly can’t beat the “line” we waited in to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince at midnight. That was Terrible, with a capital T.) Some people showed up who did not have to be here. Sucks for them.  I really love the movie 12 Angry Men.  This video being played, as far as I can tell, is a compilation of Hollywood blockbusters that have something, anything!, to do with court, lawyers and the legal system,  and/or the importance of having a jury. I’m in love. Damn, I need to go to law school.

Title: Jury duty observations, part 2

Well, I feel jipped so far; my father indicated that a real-life judge would come in and speak to us about how important juries are and other crap like that. I have not seen any real-life person other than Gloria, who I am certainly not complaining about. I just want more real-life and less late-90s video footage.  This video feels like the craptastic videos I watched in driver’s training or sex ed.  I whisper-laughed to myself a moment ago about this move and looked to see if anyone else was laughing too; no one even looked remotely amused. AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO IS EXCITED TO BE HERE?!?!

Title: Jury duty observations, part 3

Shit, I really, really hope I get picked! I hope I get picked and it’s a sweet case. I hope it’s just like 12 Angry Men and I’m the lone voice of reason. I hope me and my fellow jurors get sequestered and we all become bffs. I hope I end up on The Today Show after the ruling has been made.

Title: Jury duty observations, part 4

I’m bored. Looked through purse for gum. Found some.  Examined split ends. I need a haircut.  Compared the amount of back-fat everyone in front of me has. I should get plastic surgery- I’m much too lazy to do any of that necessary work to get rid of it.  Girl in front of me has a peculiar haircut; I don’t understand it. I can’t tell if I like it. It’s long- reaches mid back- but there are very short layers and not much blending of said layers.  It’s odd to me.  People are starting to get antsy like me.  Gloria’s laugh is funny; I like it.  I wish I wouldn’t have forgotten my backpack at home- actually, more than anything, I wish I wouldn’t have forgotten to apply deodorant today. I’m paranoid I reek.

Title: Part 5

OMG! The judge is ready! In ten minutes (or so, says Gloria), we will head into the court room!  A real-life court room! Gloria explained that we need a “juror badge,” which is really just a sticker- and she even gave instructions!  “Just peel it off, and stick it on!!!” Gosh, I love her!! GLORIA IS AWESOME! AND HILARIOUS! She is making all kinds of jokes and worrrrrrkin’ this room! She’s talking about the “employer verification forms” and how you can take that form back to your employer… or spouse. “It happens!” Bahaha jeeeeez, she is SO great.  She just made a joke about menopause. I love herrrr!

That’s it. That’s all that’s saved on my phone.

Because after that I had to turn my phone off because it wasn’t allowed in the court room.

Part II will be here on Thursday 🙂

Well, I can tell you that 23 doesn’t really feel any different than 22.

I can also tell you that last night, out on the town, celebrating my 23rd year on earth with some of my best gals, I had the best time. It was a top night.

Thankfully, none of us had the sense to bring a camera to document the shitshow that was my birthday celebration. I did manage to snap a couple pics on my crackberry, which I will of course share with you here.  I can’t post all of them because some are embarrassing, so those will just stay on my phone for my own viewing pleasure, for moments when I need a good laugh. Or to remind my old ass that I was once, indeed, young, pretty, and fun.

that measuring cup doubled as a shot glass

At dinner, I ordered a Shirley Temple. I turned 23, I’m at a nice dinner with my mother for my birthday and I ordered a Shirley fucking Temple. Who am I?! And while I was sipping my mocktail of sprite and grenadine, I had a thought: cherry vodka and sprite! So I went and got burnetts cherry vodka, like I’m in high school and will drink anything with alcohol in it ’cause you take what you can get when you’re underage. Except not me, when I was underage I almost exclusively drank Bacardi. But that is neither here nor there.

I sent the following text to my friend: “So, I bought cherry burnetts for tonight… I’m pretty much gonna die”

It was pretty much right on point.

the only appropriate photo of the entire evening

I had a birthday crown. It was made for a four year old, I’m sure, but I wore it all night long. The “jewel” on the top of the crown had a button on it that made it light up and blink different colors. I was very excited by this for the simple fact that I could use it as a beacon to locate my girls when we inevitably got separated. Needless to say, that idea didn’t really work out, but in theory it was genius.

The best part of last night was that we haven’t had a night like that with a bunch of us girls together in a while. And we also haven’t scattered like that in a hot minute. There were six of us and there was a time when none of us knew where any of the others were. It was awesome. I decided to wander away from the group (okay, so that’s pretty normal) and go somewhere else with someone else, and as I was leaving I ran into Meg and Kirsten. We went to another bar and didn’t have any idea where the other three went. We only found out later that Le and Mil went home, and Sen had left to go to another bar with other people.

I woke up this morning still drunk and thanked my lucky stars that I was alive! Then I ate a piece of birthday cake and found religion, it was that good.

It was a top night.

I hope 23 is a good year!

Remember last time I was here and gave you a half-assed blog post because I was hungover?

If you said yes, then you can suck it because despite being hungover, I shared a precious father/daughter moment with you. And you’re an ungrateful little shit.

Okay, let’s be friends again. I really wanna tell you a story.

It’s pretty clear by now that I was a hot damn mess last Saturday night. My antics are still being described to me by those who were present (or received drunk-texts… I was particularly pleased with the ones I sent to my boss. OOOOOPS!). There were some events that I had forgotten took place. That’s the best, by the way, when your friends let you know about all the dumb shit you did and said DAYS later. (Thanks, guys.)

The point is that because of what a shit-show I was on Saturday, I reached a new level of lazy on Sunday, which, after all, is the day of rest. So go ahead and hate that I did NOTHING but sleep and watch Dawson’s Creek all day long. Just know that Jesus says it’s okay.

I mentioned it on twitter but I totally got a new phone on Sunday. I got myself a Blackberry. WHICH, by the way, they call it a Crackberry for a reason. I’m obsessed. I’m in love. It’s glorious.

Dino is superior to the stupid LG Shine.

I had to get a new phone because my old one just like… stopped working. It kept turning itself off and then told me to insert my sim card and I didn’t get why because my sim card was totally already inserted. Like, all Saturday night while I was trying to drunk-text the shit out of my contacts list, it kept being like “Katie, you’re a drunk bitch and you don’t even deserve me.”  But, we made it through the night alive, so that’s all that matters. Sunday, though, apparently all bets were off because it just decided to really stick it to me and really stop working.

So, to the AT&T store I went, in all my hungover glory and told that little bitch of a phone, “fuck you, I’m getting a smartphone, you idiotpieceofshit.” Just like that.

Luckily for Jon, the poor soul who had to deal with me, I had just showered… kinda recently. And by that I mean an hour before I went. But I didn’t brush my hair or even put make up on (duh). I had gotten up from the couch long enough for me to shower, put some underwear on underneath my sweatpants and brush my teeth before I started another episode of Dawson’s Creek and my brother Skype’d me.

As I walked into the mall from the parking lot, a group of four or five attractive African American gentlemen were walking out right towards me. One of those guys decided to fuck with me. He looked me up and down and was like, “how you doin’, pretty girl?” and I actually laughed at him.  Irony. Bahaha I mean, I did nottttt look “pretty” so he was clearly just rubbing it in. Rude.

Anyway, I got into the AT&T store and decided I should probably remove my sunglasses. And OF COURSE the hottest guy working had to be the one to have to help me. Jeez, this hangover was just fucking me left and right.

Long story short, turns out I was due for an upgrade so I had the best pricing available to me. And when I went to look at phones and figure out which phone I wanted, my hands were shaking so bad I finally told Jon I wasn’t actually a meth-addict or some other drug addicted degenerate despite the looks of me. I told him, “I’m sorry, I’m fine, I’m just really, really hungover.”

Right after that, our conversation flourished and I definitely felt a connection. We had similar attitudes towards drinking and terrorizing East Lansing. It was nice.  We also had a brief conversation about how I repel technology. It was nice as well.

Even during all of this embarrassment, I had resigned myself to the fact that this is just kinda how my life goes. And then I didn’t feel embarrassed. I stood at the counter, watching the Shake Weight commercial on the TV on the wall while he did all the crap he needed to do on the computer and transferring all my contacts and shiz to my new phone. We conversed about how awkward and hilarious that commercial is and I decided that my little hungover adventure into public looking like a huge mess was a success.

I feel pretty good about it.

Add this to the list of conversations you probably don’t need to have with your parents:

stole that quote from Grease

hi dad

hi dad hi hi hi

daaaaad, i loooooove youuuu

dad, my alcohol tolerance is unforgivably low. i blame you. your genes have failed me.

and then FINALLY, I got a text back.

“Hiya Kate, i love you too”

Quickly followed by:

“You’re out of practice, been out of the game. Take a breath, relax, and then sip your cocktail. But don’t give up.”

bahahahaha you’re the best dad everrrrr

“Thanks, you’re the best too.”

In other news, I was embarrassed when I was reminded by Erica that I sent the following text last night:

i peed in a tree.

Knowing me, I am sure I sent that as a mass-text. This is upsetting.

And illegal. Luckily, I’m sneaky and don’t get caught.

So, sorry this one is super short. But like… I’m just in a bad way today. Too much to drink, you know how it goes. bahaha

See ya Tuesday!

xoxoxo

So, I think I mentioned this before but my mom is building a house. Well, obviously she is not the one doing the hard labor and constructing a dwelling deemed livable. There’s just no way that could actually happen. But you know what I mean.

Because of this new house, my mom is basically a basketcase and walks around life like a ninny. (I really wanted to use that word!) She has been trying to get her house “ready to put on the market” which means making repairs and throwing all of our random shit away.

None of this would really be worthy of telling you about except it is now encroaching on my life. I have been told that I must pack up all of my childhood books and the rest of the crap in my bedroom that I haven’t taken with me anywhere. Okay, fine. I can do that. But the repairs?  At least give a girl some warning!

After a night out terrorizing East Lansing with a couple of my best gals, I awoke this morning at 6:50 am (ish) to hear my mother fluttering around the kitchen and down the hall as her heels clicked against the hardwood floor. I immediately rolled back over and continued right on sleeping. Much too early to be awake. THEN, a text woke me up (thanks a lot, Nikki- lol just kidding! love you!) around 9:30 am or something. I deemed this a suitable time to rise. So after texting back and forth a for a while, apologizing to a couple people I happened to inappropriately drunk-text, and deciding I needed to watch an episode of Dawson’s Creek, I heard someone walkin’ around downstairs. I assumed it was my mom. (I have this joke with her lately that she just never goes to work anymore- but it’s totally a joke. She does go to work. And she loves her job. FYI. hahaha)

So, because I assumed it was my mom, I got out of bed, opened my door and took a first few tentative steps out into the loft before saying something snarky to Tam (my mom) about how she’s a slacker and never goes to work.

Oh. It totally wasn’t my mom. Whoever it was totally heard me get up and was like, “HELLO!?!”

Uhm. That’s a man-voice. WTF?!

Uhm. Hello?

WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE SAID?! (Maybe I should have gone with something like “WHO DERE?!” bahahaha at least I crack myself up…)

“I’m John,” said the odd man in my home.

Suddenly, I was thankful I put pants on. I almost didn’t!

Uuuuuum, I’m Katie?

“I’m just putting up some drywall here for your mother?”

This is when I just retreated towards my room. I would hide until he was gone. My hair was huge and completely weird shaped. The X drawn on my hand in permanent marker from the bar last night was probably now transferred to my cheek. I didn’t need to know what this man looked like or what he was doing. Just. Go. Away. But he sounded busy, so I figured I’d wait it out.

Oh. Okay.

I hightailed it back to my room, closed the door, took my pants back off, and crawled back into bed. I texted my mom “it’s not awkward at all with this random man in my house or anything…” but she didn’t care enough about me to text me back.

It seemed like I was waiting forever. After an episode of Dawson’s Creek that I pretty much slept through, I decided I couldn’t live like a prisoner in my own home anymore. So I grabbed my clothes and tip-toed to the bathroom. After showering and getting dressed, I got the f outta there and ran my very-important errands. Yeah, right. I basically invented a reason to gtfo of my house for at least an hour.

HE WAS STILL THERE WHEN I GOT BACK. AND HE LOOKS LIKE SANTA CLAUS.

AND HE CONVERSED WITH ME AS IF OUR AWKWARD INTRODUCTION NEVER TOOK PLACE.

meredith grey knows what's up

So, I went right along with it. I pretended this morning never happened, just like the annoying thing that happened last night. And the awkward thing that happened yesterday after work.  If Santa can handle avoidance behavior, then I’m just gonna continue living my life “under a banner of avoidance.” Really, this just instills in me the idea that being “dark and twisty” and an avoider is okay. This all just really reinforces my belief that if I’m any one character from Grey’s Anatomy, it is indeed Meredith. And if you watch that show, she’s not exactly… stable. But whatever, she gets help and becomes bright and shiny. Maybe someday I’ll be bright and shiny Meredith too. Change does happen, you know. I used to be very Cristina, but as I just told you, I’m not so much anymore.

This got very off-topic. Where was I?

Oh yes. Santa. (Sidenote:  As I was writing Santa, I almost wrote Satan. Interesting.)

Santa Claus just continued on merrily, putting up drywall or something. And then he finally left, but not before asking me if it was okay to leave his ladder here since he would be returning at 9 am tomorrow morning.

I can’t wait. Maybe I’ll ask him for a pony tomorrow. Or maybe not since horses freak me out.

Oh, I know. I’ll ask him for a boyfriend an *NSYNC reunion tour! Ooh, or for Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears to bury the hatchet and get their love-fest back on. Or for Mel Gibson to not be so terrible and make him go away. (I could do this forever.)

So, for the past two days, I’ve been composing a list of reasons my life is hard. Most of these things are reasons that I came up with while watching The Hills on MTV (don’t judge me- it’s a good show! bahaha).

The list is as follows:

Reasons my life is hard

1.) There are no cute boys in my new accounting class.

Hello?! I already knew the class was going to suuuuuuuuck- it’s accounting, that’s a given. But, like, it’s cruel and unusual punishment to not even put one cute boy in there to take away some of boring-ness. Ugh. My life is hard.

2.) I’m currently taking managerial accounting.

Perhaps this should have been listed first, but clearly you see my priorities. Excuse me, I understand I’m working on getting my MBA, but, really, is accounting really necessary? I mean… come on. Money’s not, like, that important… okay, fine. You win, MBA program, you win. My life is so hard.

3.) My borrowed contacts are starting to hate me.

The left one was all kinds of blurry Wednesday morning while I was driving to work. I almost took it out and put it back in but then I remembered I was driving. And if texting and driving is no longer permissible, I’m assuming law enforcement and fellow drivers (we all know how great of a driver I am) would be upset if I was now voluntarily fucking with my vision. I decided against it but then I remembered the time I took my contacts out while driving on I-96 one morning and searched for my glasses after my contacts were already out. My cruise control was set. I lived. It’s totally fine.

4.) The lamp on my desk broke.

Like totally broke. It’s not just that light bulb burned out. I flicked the little switch and there was a pop sound and then the light bulb just, like, fell out. The top part, the part with the screw-y part, was missing. WTF does that mean?! So I looked up there and was like HOW DO I FIX THIS?! You can’t come back from that. You just can’t. I wasn’t about to stick my fingers up in there! So I unplugged it and threw the piece of crap away. Time to invest in a new “task lamp.” My life is hard.

5.) Brody Jenner keeps referring to Kristin Cavallari as his sister.

TO HER FACE. WTF?!?! I know that The Hills isn’t actually “real” but it’s real to me! You do not have “sexual relations” with your sister! That is just…. not right. And that’s just rude to say to some girl you used to date and to whom you still have some sort of attraction! Especially when you know she wants to be with you! Dick move, sir! Also, I just really want Kristin and Brody to get back together for real. I hate fake reality. And I hate Avril Lavigne. I have so many feelings. My life is so hard.

6.) When my hair is in a ponytail, it tickles the back of my neck and gives me the willies/the chills.

I need a haircut? *whine*

7.) The City is still on the air.

I don’t watch that show but it comes on right after The Hills and I am forced to see commercials for it. That Olivia girl is the biggest C yoU Nest Tuesday ever. I hate that she exists. I wish she’d go back into obscurity and stop being so terrible. *rage blackout*

8.) I woke up twenty minutes late Wednesday morning.

It totally messed up my routine and completely threw me into a panic. I hate being late and I just can’t handle when things deviate from a plan. It freaks me out. It’s hard being me.

9.) The normal road I take to GTFO this tiny part of town I live in is totally blocked off due to construction of a “beautiful new park.”

I don’t appreciate this. Okay, fine, yes, there is another road like two feet away from it that takes me exactly to the same street the one under construction takes me to, but still. I hate it. The one I’m forced to take needs to be repaved. And I drive by it every day and have to make an illegal U-turn when I remember that my road is closed. Ugh. My life is so hard.

Okay. Enough complaining for today. Thanks for listening. You’re just such a good friend.

What are some ridiculous reasons your life is hard?? Do you feel the same way about Kristin and Brody as I do? Why does Summer = Construction?!?!

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