Home Sick




I haven't been home in a while. I just came across
this photo of me by a beach near my house. It made
me a little home sick!

If I Had To Be A Mime...

If I had to be a mime, trust me when I tell you
I wouldn't be the silver body painted kind, wearing
Risky Business sunglasses and freezing my body
in a horribly uncomfortable position for seven hours
until someone from Texas finally dropped a dime in
my bucket. Really.

The 1800's Called-They Want Their Bike Back

For the pretentious couple that was letting their
small child ride around the streets of SoHo today
on an ridiculously old antique bicycle complete
with a giant front wheel, may I tell you that your
kid is pretty much out to get his ass kicked.

Say My Name

For the record my name is not Christine, Chris, Chrissy,
Christian, Kirstin, Kierstin or Krispen which on a daily
basis I am called one of. Fuck this shit. I'm changing my
name to Honey.

IKEA Masters

If you didn’t know, IKEA delivers furniture in about 7,000 parts.
Ironically, the manual that accompanies your purchase is oddly
simple. It contains drawings that resemble those one might find
in a Playmobil toy set. The drawings are big and exaggerated
with lots of dotted lines and arrows. I’ve also noticed that there
are a lot of screws and washers in an IKEA purchase yet there
never seem to be enough screws for washers or washers for
screws. This is never a good sign. When you call IKEA for
more screws or washers or rails or table legs or wheels or
whatever it might be that they forget to send you, you should
know that everyone you will need to talk to in regards to screws
or washers or rails or table legs or wheels will mostly likely
be in a meeting. People by the name of Sue, Beenie, Deeanne,
Jed or Rainy will not be able to assist you. Trust me. Lucikly,
I have discovered one amazing thing about myself over the past
few weeks during our various massive furniture deliveries for
the new office…and that is that I actually have a talent for
assembling furniture. Good to know should this college degree
in Creative Writing thing not work out…

The Bitch

Last night I left work tired from yelling at more men.
Actual conversation that went down yesterday:

Me: “Hello, is this Levi?”

Levi: “Yes. Who’s calling?”

Me: “Levi, this is K calling. You were supposed to deliver
my highly over priced office chairs last Friday…I’ve left you
about seven messages…what’s the deal??”

Levi: “Oh…um…actually…Levi isn’t here right now…’

Silence.

Me: “Dude. You are so full of crap. I totally know this is you
Levi and I’m sick of your bullshit. My boss is freaking out
about these chairs and you have until tomorrow by 9:00am
to deliver them. And I'm not kidding.”

Levi: “Um…ok…sorry about that…I thought you were someone
else.”

Why We Are Friends

Turns out that Dana couldn't sleep either last night.
She even counted sheep like I did but it didn't work.
She pictured her sheep jumping over fences while
playing the accordion which made me laugh
because mine were wearing silver boots.

WARNING: Dangerous Chick Territory



Note To Chicks: Never borrow a guys' favorite T-shirt to sleep in.
Even though you may think to yourself, 'He won't miss this rag of
a shirt complete with holes in it!' he will disagree in all seriousness
and say, 'Hey! That's my favorite shirt! Just be sure not to rip the
collar, ok?'

Dear Mother Nature:


Remember that time I begged you...wished over and over again
for snow to come? Ah...just so you know I've had enough thanks.
I want my Spring. wah.