There is no end to this, no end in sight. And so I will keep running around, living, looking at apartments and drinking and laughing and at some point, a point that has yet to be ingrained in my mind, I will accept It. That this is what happened to me. This is my story. And I'll finally be free, able to look people in the eye when they say oh you'll feel better soon, one day, this will all be behind you-- I will be able to look at them and say, no. I won't. And that's okay.
Because I'm still here.
9/22/09
What Living At Home Is Like /OMG GET ME A NEW APARTMENT!*
Just kidding, Mom.
Here, dear friends, are the pros/cons of living at home.
PROs:
1) I never have to do my own laundry! Every morning I wake up, surrounded by clean shirts, socks and pants. Everything smells delicious and brand new, like a newborn babe. When I was living in squalor in Brooklyn, my clothes always smelled like Febreze because for me, Febreze equaled Tide detergent. I've come to learn that they are not, in fact, the same. Yay Mom!
2) Sometimes, when my dad drives me to the train station, he says "Do you have any cash?" and even if I do, (rare) I say "no" and then sometimes, SOMETIMES, he gives me a twenty! For no reason! I think maybe he thinks I have to buy my ticket onboard SO NO ONE TELL HIM. Oh crap.
3) My mom cooks me dinner and even if I don't eat it, it's better than my old meals of Ramen noodles and vodka.
4) I'm saving money living at home. And by saving I mean having extra cash to spend on frivolous items like a mini Razor scooter and Miami and Seattle. WOO!
5) My brother Greg's secret candy stash. Now that he has left for college it's ALL MINE!!! HELLO, CAVITIES! Welcome to my mouth!
CONS:
While living at home definitely has its "perks", there are some days that make me yearn for my own place.
1) See the following conversation, which occurred when my mom decided to learn about this newfangled device called a hair straightener! Oh Golly!
2) Also, this conversation:
3) And this one, too.
Me: Good morning.
Mother: THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE WEARING TO WORK??
Me: (wails) YES! (runs upstairs to change)
4) Oh, and this one too.
Father: Are you going to be around tonight?
Me: YES, GOD, I live at home now!!
Father: Can't you...sleep at Meghan's?
Me: NO!
Father: But it's Friday night..
Me: So?
Father: So it's date night... and your mother looks damn sexy with that new straight hair...
Me: (emits blood curdling scream) I hate empty nesters!
5) And finally, this one:
Father: So Patty Ann (my mother), should we tell her?
Me: (Frantically scanning my brain to what this could be. Is my mom too old to have a baby? What's menopause???) What?????
Father: Well...
Mother: See..
Me: WHAT?!! WHAT! WHAAAAT!?!
Father: Since your brother went to college...
Mother: We've been spending a lot of time together...
Me: (gagging) Yes...
Father: Well, we really like being empty nesters.
Mother: So, please.
Father: Find a new apartment soon.
Me: How rude!
------------
Unfortunately for them, I kind of like living at home. I'm a nomad for most of the week, so coming home to my warm bed, with my cable TV and my laptop, with the Reese's peanut butter cups and my cute dog, is kind of nice. Plus hanging with my parents is surprisingly fun. So nice and fun, in fact, that I may even stay for awhile.
Sorry, Mom and Dad!
*= Some details have been changed to protect the innocent and exaggerated to bring the funny.
Here, dear friends, are the pros/cons of living at home.
PROs:
1) I never have to do my own laundry! Every morning I wake up, surrounded by clean shirts, socks and pants. Everything smells delicious and brand new, like a newborn babe. When I was living in squalor in Brooklyn, my clothes always smelled like Febreze because for me, Febreze equaled Tide detergent. I've come to learn that they are not, in fact, the same. Yay Mom!
2) Sometimes, when my dad drives me to the train station, he says "Do you have any cash?" and even if I do, (rare) I say "no" and then sometimes, SOMETIMES, he gives me a twenty! For no reason! I think maybe he thinks I have to buy my ticket onboard SO NO ONE TELL HIM. Oh crap.
3) My mom cooks me dinner and even if I don't eat it, it's better than my old meals of Ramen noodles and vodka.
4) I'm saving money living at home. And by saving I mean having extra cash to spend on frivolous items like a mini Razor scooter and Miami and Seattle. WOO!
5) My brother Greg's secret candy stash. Now that he has left for college it's ALL MINE!!! HELLO, CAVITIES! Welcome to my mouth!
CONS:
While living at home definitely has its "perks", there are some days that make me yearn for my own place.
1) See the following conversation, which occurred when my mom decided to learn about this newfangled device called a hair straightener! Oh Golly!
Mother: Is it...on?
Me: Yes.
Mother: OW! IT'S ON! IT'S REALLY HOT!
Me: Yes Mom...much like a real iron...it is hot.
Mother: Oh wow, look at my hair!
2) Also, this conversation:
Me: I'm not staying home for dinner.
Mother: Why? I"m making rice!
Me: Yeah...so I'm not staying home for dinner.
Mother: Why not?
Me: BECAUSE REMEMBER WHEN I HAD CANCER AND I COULD ONLY EAT RICE?
Mother: Oh yeah. God, stop playing the cancer card!
3) And this one, too.
Me: Good morning.
Mother: THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE WEARING TO WORK??
Me: (wails) YES! (runs upstairs to change)
4) Oh, and this one too.
Father: Are you going to be around tonight?
Me: YES, GOD, I live at home now!!
Father: Can't you...sleep at Meghan's?
Me: NO!
Father: But it's Friday night..
Me: So?
Father: So it's date night... and your mother looks damn sexy with that new straight hair...
Me: (emits blood curdling scream) I hate empty nesters!
5) And finally, this one:
Father: So Patty Ann (my mother), should we tell her?
Me: (Frantically scanning my brain to what this could be. Is my mom too old to have a baby? What's menopause???) What?????
Father: Well...
Mother: See..
Me: WHAT?!! WHAT! WHAAAAT!?!
Father: Since your brother went to college...
Mother: We've been spending a lot of time together...
Me: (gagging) Yes...
Father: Well, we really like being empty nesters.
Mother: So, please.
Father: Find a new apartment soon.
Me: How rude!
------------
Unfortunately for them, I kind of like living at home. I'm a nomad for most of the week, so coming home to my warm bed, with my cable TV and my laptop, with the Reese's peanut butter cups and my cute dog, is kind of nice. Plus hanging with my parents is surprisingly fun. So nice and fun, in fact, that I may even stay for awhile.
Sorry, Mom and Dad!
*= Some details have been changed to protect the innocent and exaggerated to bring the funny.
9/10/09
LA LA LA
Warning: I curse and I LIKE IT, so deal. Sorry Grandma.
LA.
Here we go.
THURSDAY MORNING, all excited, fists pumping, airport ride, OP my driver, Gen's dad-- dang he's hot, get to the airport, Meghan's already yelled at me twice, morning time and she ain't so nice, not my fault that I'm high on that coffee bean, no tea leaf. We fly out, baller style, New York to LA, that's how I play. Arrival gate, Shanni pulling up in Pearl, oh what my favorite car, my favorite girl, 2Pac pumping, backseat jumping, WEST COAST, I break from Biggie love and show 2Pac some respect, bout to make a career out of my ability to freestyle, screaming the words like i'm an insolent child...
THURSDAY DAY, we roll up to Santa Monica, switching to songs with harmonica, it's chill, it's hot, it's warm, there's men and they are fiiiine, we are laughing in the sand, ocean splashing, waves crashing.
THURSDAY NIGHT, oh it's on, first night in LA, Shanni's got to show us a good time, text the promoters, find the show, oh wait, HANSON IS IN TOWN, whaddya know. I love Hanson, we all know that, i'm like oh it is FATE, secret show in LA the one day I'm in the county? Decide to go, and leave Meghan, Gen, CJ and Ray behind. But it's all good, I see the show, I get the pictures, I jam out, I cry a little bit, not a big deal, only made my life, you go through all the pain and strife. Leave the cafe, find myself a cab, New York-style, hands in the air, TAXIIIIIII, get in, go to meet the loco ladies, we roll to Coco DeVille, it's awkward in there, but vodka, tonic, whatever I'm ON IT, we chug, we drink, we dance, we laugh.
FRIDAY, hangover like you know I do, Zuma Beach, Malibu. towels on the sand, faces on our hands, we laugh and swim and remember our friends, write poems, write raps, performance space, all that crap.
FRIDAY NIGHT, feeling tired, don't wanna get fired, chill in ray's apt, true blood, what's good, rest up easy, tomorrow's gonna be breezy.
SATURDAY, a big day, i felt it, Hermosa beach, love it, beers, burgers and broads, we meet James and his soccer moves, buys us our food, nothing tastes better than cheddar without the dough, seriously best burgers though, so here we go, Saturday night, party at Matt's, looked like a fool but knew i was cool, they're going to the club and i gotta meet them at ray's pad. pass out in the cab and wake up to the driver saying 'hey miss-- are you a drunken rider?' pay the bill, enter the space, shower, straighten, easy as cake. i had a feeling this night would be huge, go to empire, male models, gen's a baller, i meet an uglier man, but at least he's taller (this time). we run around like crazy kids, drinking the fizz, not paying for drinks, i can't think, we're heading to mclovin's, we shout in the car, pull up Mclovin's crib, oh shit you know this will be big. too much of a crazy night to detail here, i got the pictures though so you KNOW IT'S REAL.
SUNDAY FUNDAY, the hangover lives on, Venice beach though--you know we gotta go. we see the muscles, the tees, ladies please, that man is mine, you know he's fine. We drinkin, we hanging, we friends, we bangin, all the sudden hangover hits, oh no, Ray's got the shits! Bathroom break, whole world shakes, but we rollin, the clock is tolling, faces burning and we know we're done. Starting to get sad because it's our last night, so we promise that we gotta do it right...
SUNDAY NIGHT, almost was a big fat failure, we made it out though, drinkin like a sailor, no fleet week for us, but the drinks were free, head banging, dirt nastyyyy, beardo on the stage with Gen's old 'do, meghan dancing, colleen prancing, rachel and the baldie swapping spit, New York ain't got shit on Party Hardy LA....
MONDAY, beach time, our last go around, hit the town, see the friends, see the boys, we're laughing, we're nostalgic, it's time to go. one last sunburn, one last drink, one last taste, pacific ocean, we loved this place.
So that's all there is
about our trip to LA
it was so fucking awesome
but now we pay
Credit card bills like you won't believe
sore throat, red face, gotta take some Aleve.
So peace out Cali,
you did us well.
See you soon, motherfucker,
if we're not in Hell.
(This post inspired by Malibu's Most Wanted. I actually had his voice in my head as I scribbled this down, son.)
LA.
Here we go.
THURSDAY MORNING, all excited, fists pumping, airport ride, OP my driver, Gen's dad-- dang he's hot, get to the airport, Meghan's already yelled at me twice, morning time and she ain't so nice, not my fault that I'm high on that coffee bean, no tea leaf. We fly out, baller style, New York to LA, that's how I play. Arrival gate, Shanni pulling up in Pearl, oh what my favorite car, my favorite girl, 2Pac pumping, backseat jumping, WEST COAST, I break from Biggie love and show 2Pac some respect, bout to make a career out of my ability to freestyle, screaming the words like i'm an insolent child...
THURSDAY DAY, we roll up to Santa Monica, switching to songs with harmonica, it's chill, it's hot, it's warm, there's men and they are fiiiine, we are laughing in the sand, ocean splashing, waves crashing.
THURSDAY NIGHT, oh it's on, first night in LA, Shanni's got to show us a good time, text the promoters, find the show, oh wait, HANSON IS IN TOWN, whaddya know. I love Hanson, we all know that, i'm like oh it is FATE, secret show in LA the one day I'm in the county? Decide to go, and leave Meghan, Gen, CJ and Ray behind. But it's all good, I see the show, I get the pictures, I jam out, I cry a little bit, not a big deal, only made my life, you go through all the pain and strife. Leave the cafe, find myself a cab, New York-style, hands in the air, TAXIIIIIII, get in, go to meet the loco ladies, we roll to Coco DeVille, it's awkward in there, but vodka, tonic, whatever I'm ON IT, we chug, we drink, we dance, we laugh.
FRIDAY, hangover like you know I do, Zuma Beach, Malibu. towels on the sand, faces on our hands, we laugh and swim and remember our friends, write poems, write raps, performance space, all that crap.
FRIDAY NIGHT, feeling tired, don't wanna get fired, chill in ray's apt, true blood, what's good, rest up easy, tomorrow's gonna be breezy.
SATURDAY, a big day, i felt it, Hermosa beach, love it, beers, burgers and broads, we meet James and his soccer moves, buys us our food, nothing tastes better than cheddar without the dough, seriously best burgers though, so here we go, Saturday night, party at Matt's, looked like a fool but knew i was cool, they're going to the club and i gotta meet them at ray's pad. pass out in the cab and wake up to the driver saying 'hey miss-- are you a drunken rider?' pay the bill, enter the space, shower, straighten, easy as cake. i had a feeling this night would be huge, go to empire, male models, gen's a baller, i meet an uglier man, but at least he's taller (this time). we run around like crazy kids, drinking the fizz, not paying for drinks, i can't think, we're heading to mclovin's, we shout in the car, pull up Mclovin's crib, oh shit you know this will be big. too much of a crazy night to detail here, i got the pictures though so you KNOW IT'S REAL.
SUNDAY FUNDAY, the hangover lives on, Venice beach though--you know we gotta go. we see the muscles, the tees, ladies please, that man is mine, you know he's fine. We drinkin, we hanging, we friends, we bangin, all the sudden hangover hits, oh no, Ray's got the shits! Bathroom break, whole world shakes, but we rollin, the clock is tolling, faces burning and we know we're done. Starting to get sad because it's our last night, so we promise that we gotta do it right...
SUNDAY NIGHT, almost was a big fat failure, we made it out though, drinkin like a sailor, no fleet week for us, but the drinks were free, head banging, dirt nastyyyy, beardo on the stage with Gen's old 'do, meghan dancing, colleen prancing, rachel and the baldie swapping spit, New York ain't got shit on Party Hardy LA....
MONDAY, beach time, our last go around, hit the town, see the friends, see the boys, we're laughing, we're nostalgic, it's time to go. one last sunburn, one last drink, one last taste, pacific ocean, we loved this place.
So that's all there is
about our trip to LA
it was so fucking awesome
but now we pay
Credit card bills like you won't believe
sore throat, red face, gotta take some Aleve.
So peace out Cali,
you did us well.
See you soon, motherfucker,
if we're not in Hell.
(This post inspired by Malibu's Most Wanted. I actually had his voice in my head as I scribbled this down, son.)
8/30/09
What Might Happen While We're In LA
On Thursday, Gen, Meghan and myself head out to the great state of California to visit Rachel in her (new) natural habitat.
In preparation for yet another grand event, I have compiled the following list of probable occurrences.
1) Gen abuses the liquor cart on the plane and gets lost in transit. We find her coming through baggage claim six hours later, passed out inside her suitcase.
2) I realize my dream and make out with Frankie Muniz.
3) I accidentally on purpose make out with an underage Disney star (or two).
4) Meghan wears a slutty dress and gets mistaken for a hooker. She meets Eddie Murphy in all of the confusion and they marry in a lavish Vegas ceremony.
5) I get mistaken for a hooker and amidst no confusion but lots of alcohol, marry Verne Troyer.
6) Rachel flips out because our clothes are more Williamsburg than LA.
7) I stalk Kathy Griffin in a misguided attempt to make her love me and get arrested for trespassing.
8) I force everyone to go on a Celebrity Homes tour and weep when I see Merv Griffin's house (the man created Jeopardy!, people. He is/was a god.)
9) I give out my entire supply of business cards and get no emails/calls about my brilliant blog.
In preparation for yet another grand event, I have compiled the following list of probable occurrences.
1) Gen abuses the liquor cart on the plane and gets lost in transit. We find her coming through baggage claim six hours later, passed out inside her suitcase.
2) I realize my dream and make out with Frankie Muniz.
3) I accidentally on purpose make out with an underage Disney star (or two).
4) Meghan wears a slutty dress and gets mistaken for a hooker. She meets Eddie Murphy in all of the confusion and they marry in a lavish Vegas ceremony.
5) I get mistaken for a hooker and amidst no confusion but lots of alcohol, marry Verne Troyer.
6) Rachel flips out because our clothes are more Williamsburg than LA.
7) I stalk Kathy Griffin in a misguided attempt to make her love me and get arrested for trespassing.
8) I force everyone to go on a Celebrity Homes tour and weep when I see Merv Griffin's house (the man created Jeopardy!, people. He is/was a god.)
9) I give out my entire supply of business cards and get no emails/calls about my brilliant blog.
L.A., here we come!
8/24/09
I'm Thankful For...
1) Meghan. Because she would literally kill someone for me. She even said it. (Just kidding, possible detective from the future!)
2) My parents for the U-Haul they are bringing to me on Friday. And, you know. For the cash and like love and stuff? And also for the blue eyes. Because, damn do these irises sparkle!
3) Junior Mints. HAS THERE EVER BEEN A TREAT MORE DELECTABLE?
4) Gen. Because she apartment hunts for me and spends money that I don't have. (Seriously, Gen. I can't live there.) And for Erin, for saying no for me when I need to say no, and for LFarm for listening, always, and making fun of me, too. And for Rachel, for coming home.
5) For Kristie and our best summer together, yet.
6) You, who read this, and encourage me, and help me on my way.
It's time I started saying thanks.
So. Thanks.
2) My parents for the U-Haul they are bringing to me on Friday. And, you know. For the cash and like love and stuff? And also for the blue eyes. Because, damn do these irises sparkle!
3) Junior Mints. HAS THERE EVER BEEN A TREAT MORE DELECTABLE?
4) Gen. Because she apartment hunts for me and spends money that I don't have. (Seriously, Gen. I can't live there.) And for Erin, for saying no for me when I need to say no, and for LFarm for listening, always, and making fun of me, too. And for Rachel, for coming home.
5) For Kristie and our best summer together, yet.
6) You, who read this, and encourage me, and help me on my way.
It's time I started saying thanks.
So. Thanks.
8/23/09
Why Apartment Hunting Sucks
oh hey, everyone. it's been awhile.
mentioned, briefly, in the last post that my roommate skipped town.
truth.
so now here i am, smack dab, SMACK DIBBITY DAB, in the middle of apartment hunting.
i've been telling everyone that i know about my poor, unfortunate plight, because i love talking about myself and complaining is so awesome. and also, i'm fascinating. didn't you know?
but really, really i just want someone to say: "hey! you need an apartment! have mine. it's 900 bucks and has a rooftop pool and a doorman and a kitchen made out of CHOCOLATE!"
so far, this hasn't happened.
but the following things have:
1) on day two of the search, a pigeon shit on my face/dress. i ran into city market to cleanse myself, was mocked by others, and continued on to lunch. later that day i went to look at another place in murray hill (yuck. i know. but girlfriend is desperate.) and on my way there, i stepped in dog shit. and i had to run into a pizza place for napkins to wipe the dog shit off of my foot and it was filled with hot guys, no seriously, hot guys, and one was like "oh that's good luck!". well buddy, no it was not, because the next apartment that i saw was so god damn awful that i almost flung myself out the window.
2) day three of the apartment hunt was muggy, hot and digusting, and i went to a sixth floor walk up and was so out of breath and smelly and sweaty that when i sat on this perfectly nice and normal girl's couch, i left a knee sweat stain. knee sweat. not pleasant.
3) also on day three? i went to see a place in chelsea and i thought "ooh yay, nice chelsea, galleries, pretty" but it was really something like the flower district? except i didn't see any flowers, it was just what the cab driver told me (it was hot and sweaty and i didn't want to walk, i didn't wanna) and then i got to the apartment on 28th and i swear to god, it was like the murder house, i heard death metal playing, and there was a man wearing a chain link fence around his neck and it was black, everything was black and grey and metal everywhere and i said "oh hey, no thanks" and then ran out. it was pretty embarrassing, i mean he judged me, i judged him, it was not a good situation.
but...
i saw some places yesterday and they were so wonderful and dreamlike and what do you know, they were in brooklyn, where i think i belong. so we'll see if i get them, because it's kind of like going for a job interview, and let's face it, i ramble and sweat and my handshake is insignificant and clammy. but i tried my hardest, very hardest, to impress upon these people that i'm not a mess!
what a lie.
wish me luck.
mentioned, briefly, in the last post that my roommate skipped town.
truth.
so now here i am, smack dab, SMACK DIBBITY DAB, in the middle of apartment hunting.
i've been telling everyone that i know about my poor, unfortunate plight, because i love talking about myself and complaining is so awesome. and also, i'm fascinating. didn't you know?
but really, really i just want someone to say: "hey! you need an apartment! have mine. it's 900 bucks and has a rooftop pool and a doorman and a kitchen made out of CHOCOLATE!"
so far, this hasn't happened.
but the following things have:
1) on day two of the search, a pigeon shit on my face/dress. i ran into city market to cleanse myself, was mocked by others, and continued on to lunch. later that day i went to look at another place in murray hill (yuck. i know. but girlfriend is desperate.) and on my way there, i stepped in dog shit. and i had to run into a pizza place for napkins to wipe the dog shit off of my foot and it was filled with hot guys, no seriously, hot guys, and one was like "oh that's good luck!". well buddy, no it was not, because the next apartment that i saw was so god damn awful that i almost flung myself out the window.
2) day three of the apartment hunt was muggy, hot and digusting, and i went to a sixth floor walk up and was so out of breath and smelly and sweaty that when i sat on this perfectly nice and normal girl's couch, i left a knee sweat stain. knee sweat. not pleasant.
3) also on day three? i went to see a place in chelsea and i thought "ooh yay, nice chelsea, galleries, pretty" but it was really something like the flower district? except i didn't see any flowers, it was just what the cab driver told me (it was hot and sweaty and i didn't want to walk, i didn't wanna) and then i got to the apartment on 28th and i swear to god, it was like the murder house, i heard death metal playing, and there was a man wearing a chain link fence around his neck and it was black, everything was black and grey and metal everywhere and i said "oh hey, no thanks" and then ran out. it was pretty embarrassing, i mean he judged me, i judged him, it was not a good situation.
but...
i saw some places yesterday and they were so wonderful and dreamlike and what do you know, they were in brooklyn, where i think i belong. so we'll see if i get them, because it's kind of like going for a job interview, and let's face it, i ramble and sweat and my handshake is insignificant and clammy. but i tried my hardest, very hardest, to impress upon these people that i'm not a mess!
what a lie.
wish me luck.
8/11/09
Since My Brenna Left Me
My roommate has gone and left me.
Yes, it's true. She's gone, baby, gone.
I didn't even get a "bye, bye, bye".
She claims she's coming back. But that was weeks ago.
She stole my heart and my True Blood Season 1 DVDs.
Oh, the pain.
Since she's been gone (note: this post will be littered with pop song references. I listen to Z100 sometimes, SO SUE ME!), things have fallen apart.
I have decided to write her an open letter (like Candy Spelling!) to guarantee her return.
Dear Brenna,
Please come back. Things aren't good around here without you. I know our fish died, and I know it was my fault because I made fun of him, but that doesn't mean that we should split up. I need you back. I need you back.
In a plea for your return, I have documented a very real and very sad scene that occurred last week after work.
The following is a scene from last week.
KELLY (to herself)
OMG, It's so hot in here. I wish Brenna were here so I could ask her how to put on her A/C.
I wish she answered text messages or calls.
KELLY WALKS OVER TO THE KITCHEN SINK AND DRINKS DIRECTLY OUT OF THE FAUCET
KELLY (to herself, always to herself)
Man, I wish Brenna were here to fill up the Brita.
KELLY LOOKS AROUND AND REALIZES THERE ARE FRUIT FLIES EVERYWHERE
KELLY
(screeching)
AAAH! Bugs! I hate bugs!!
SHE RUNS TO THE SINK AND BEGINS THROWING WATER IN THE AIR. SHE GETS SOAKED.
KELLY
AAAH! I need Brenna! I need Brenna! Why are their fruit flies everywhere? I don’t eat FRUIT! Can they come from Gushers??? Ah!!
KELLY WALKS OVER TO THE COUCH, LAYS DOWN IN HER WORK CLOTHES AND FALLS ASLEEP. SHE WAKES UP TWENTY MINUTES LATER.
KELLY
I guess I should make dinner since Brenna’s not here to make me fun Arthur shapes Mac and Cheese. Ooh, I think I have Easy Mac!
KELLY WALKS OVER TO THE CABINET AND REALIZES SHE IS TOO SHORT TO REACH IT. SHE GETS THE STOOL. SHE IS STILL TOO SHORT. SHE GRABS THE BROOM TO KNOCK DOWN HER FOOD.
KELLY
If Brenna were here, she could reach this for me!
KELLY BEGINS TO GRUNT AS SHE TRIES TO MANUEVER THE BROOM TO KNOCK DOWN THE BOX OF EASY MAC. WHILE DOING THIS, SHE FALLS OFF THE STOOL TWICE AND SWALLOWS A FLY.
KELLY
Ugh, this Mac and Cheese better be good.
FINALLY, SHE KNOCKS DOWN THE BOX. IN HER EXCITEMENT, SHE FALLS OFF THE STOOL FOR A THIRD TIME.
KELLY
VICTORY!
KELLY OPENS THE BOX.
KELLY
Nooo!! There’s no more left!
SHE BEGINS TO WAIL, AND RUNS AROUND THE APARTMENT, BANGING ON THE WALLS IN PAIN. SHE STRIPS DOWN TO HER UNDERWEAR AND BRA AND FLINGS HERSELF ONTO THE COUCH, WHERE SHE CRIES HERSELF TO SLEEP.
END SCENE.
Don't make me send Bill Clinton up to Boston to retrieve you like he did with those two journalist chicks.
Come back.
Love,
Kelly
Yes, it's true. She's gone, baby, gone.
I didn't even get a "bye, bye, bye".
She claims she's coming back. But that was weeks ago.
She stole my heart and my True Blood Season 1 DVDs.
Oh, the pain.
Since she's been gone (note: this post will be littered with pop song references. I listen to Z100 sometimes, SO SUE ME!), things have fallen apart.
I have decided to write her an open letter (like Candy Spelling!) to guarantee her return.
Dear Brenna,
Please come back. Things aren't good around here without you. I know our fish died, and I know it was my fault because I made fun of him, but that doesn't mean that we should split up. I need you back. I need you back.
In a plea for your return, I have documented a very real and very sad scene that occurred last week after work.
The following is a scene from last week.
INT-BROOKLYN APARTMENT. KITCHEN IS LITTERED WITH DISHES AND STACKS OF UNPAID BILLS. ENTER-CHARMING AND ATTRACTIVE 23 YEAR OLD WOMAN. SHE IS FLUSTERED AND SWEATING.
KELLY (to herself)
OMG, It's so hot in here. I wish Brenna were here so I could ask her how to put on her A/C.
I wish she answered text messages or calls.
KELLY WALKS OVER TO THE KITCHEN SINK AND DRINKS DIRECTLY OUT OF THE FAUCET
KELLY (to herself, always to herself)
Man, I wish Brenna were here to fill up the Brita.
KELLY LOOKS AROUND AND REALIZES THERE ARE FRUIT FLIES EVERYWHERE
KELLY
(screeching)
AAAH! Bugs! I hate bugs!!
SHE RUNS TO THE SINK AND BEGINS THROWING WATER IN THE AIR. SHE GETS SOAKED.
KELLY
AAAH! I need Brenna! I need Brenna! Why are their fruit flies everywhere? I don’t eat FRUIT! Can they come from Gushers??? Ah!!
KELLY WALKS OVER TO THE COUCH, LAYS DOWN IN HER WORK CLOTHES AND FALLS ASLEEP. SHE WAKES UP TWENTY MINUTES LATER.
KELLY
I guess I should make dinner since Brenna’s not here to make me fun Arthur shapes Mac and Cheese. Ooh, I think I have Easy Mac!
KELLY WALKS OVER TO THE CABINET AND REALIZES SHE IS TOO SHORT TO REACH IT. SHE GETS THE STOOL. SHE IS STILL TOO SHORT. SHE GRABS THE BROOM TO KNOCK DOWN HER FOOD.
KELLY
If Brenna were here, she could reach this for me!
KELLY BEGINS TO GRUNT AS SHE TRIES TO MANUEVER THE BROOM TO KNOCK DOWN THE BOX OF EASY MAC. WHILE DOING THIS, SHE FALLS OFF THE STOOL TWICE AND SWALLOWS A FLY.
KELLY
Ugh, this Mac and Cheese better be good.
FINALLY, SHE KNOCKS DOWN THE BOX. IN HER EXCITEMENT, SHE FALLS OFF THE STOOL FOR A THIRD TIME.
KELLY
VICTORY!
KELLY OPENS THE BOX.
KELLY
Nooo!! There’s no more left!
SHE BEGINS TO WAIL, AND RUNS AROUND THE APARTMENT, BANGING ON THE WALLS IN PAIN. SHE STRIPS DOWN TO HER UNDERWEAR AND BRA AND FLINGS HERSELF ONTO THE COUCH, WHERE SHE CRIES HERSELF TO SLEEP.
END SCENE.
Don't make me send Bill Clinton up to Boston to retrieve you like he did with those two journalist chicks.
Come back.
Love,
Kelly
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