WHAT IT'S LIKE TO DATE ME

It will be 7am and I will tap you on the shoulder in my bra and underwear with a headband on and crazy wild hair sticking out saying,

K: Um...there is a roach. In the bathroom.

And then you will say,

E: Oh really? Ok.

And then you will roll over to go back to bed. And then I will politely wait a moment or two and then I will tap you on the shoulder again and say,

K: Actually, um...can you kill it? Because it's GIGANTIC and it's in the shower. It has long hairy horrible legs. I'm late for work.

And then I will wait outside the door because I can't even watch. And then even though I hear the entire hitting and smashing and flushing process when you come out and say it's 'safe to go in' now I will say,

K: Are you sure? Are you sure it's dead?
and really mean it.

GHOST OF KDUNK PAST

Tonight I enjoyed a lovely dinner catching up with my two girl cousins that I haven’t seen in a while. We had fun laughing and going down memory lane. Inevitably the conversation turned to what it always does - how I am the oldest cousin and how I tortured them as kids:

M: Remember when K put piles of salt at the bottom of my OJ when I went to the bathroom and tricked me into having a ‘OJ drinking contest’ to see who could finish their drink the quickest?

K: Who? Me?

S: Or the time K said Oscar the Grouch lived in the garden hose and that I should look inside and then she blasted the water on.

K: I did this? Oh wait…I did.

M: Or what about when we were in the minivan stuck in bumper to bumper traffic and K gave me a super hot fireball and I was crying and dying for water and Mom was freaking out.

KL It wasn’t that hot…

S: Or the time she told M to take an ice cube right out of the freezer and put it on her tongue because it tasted 'really, really good' and we had to stick M’s tongue under hot water to remove it?

K: Ohh…that’s bad.

What a terror! Despite having done the pranks I still felt bad. More importantly - where were my parents during all this? Playing in a drum circle? Making God’s eyes? Running in a field of daisies?

All I know is that the stories died down, we paid our check and left the restaurant. As M turned around to wave goodbye I was tempted to motion that she had toilet paper sticking out the back of her skirt but hey…I didn’t.

WHOOPI-what AH YA doin'

If you were looking for the where abouts of Whoopi Goldberg on Saturday night I know where she was. She was making me a Stoli Cranberry in Massachusetts at a local bar called Captain Carlo’s Seafood.

I know when many of you read this you will think I am completely insane and full of crap. The rest of you that don’t think that will think I’m racist or nuts because it was just someone that ‘looked’ like Whoopi. It wasn’t. It was friggin’ Whoopi Goldberg wearing a peach striped shirt and jeans and her hair back and those signature annoying sunglasses and there was a Prince cover band and let me tell you it was one of the most surreal moments of my life.

I am from New York. I see celebrities all of the time. This should not be a big deal to me. But somehow thanks to the combo of being in this funky local bar with real Massachusetts locals and some frat boys and Whoopi-blew my mind.

When my friends were driving me there I was making fun of THEM saying THEY were full of shit until I saw her with my very own eyes. Was she doing research for an upcoming role? Does she summer here? What was the DEAL??? Luckily, I had a fantastic resource. My friend’s father is the mayor of the town. Apparently Whoopi called a meeting with the mayor telling him to have the local press back off and leave her alone. She’s friends with the owner and she herself is part-owner of the bar.

The night I saw Whoopi, a local, rough around the edges woman with a ‘Tina’ tattoo sensed my surprise (jaw drop–eyes wide) and nudged me in the ribs as I waited for my drink,

T: (thick Boston accent) Wic-kid re-ta-did, huh?
K: Uh…yes! Very weird!
T: She’s not nice ee-tha. I was in hee once. I said somethin’ about her bah being too crowded and how the wait for a drink was ha-rrible. She grabbed my shirt and said, ‘Don’t talk shit about this bah!’
K: Really?!
T: Yeah. And I said, ‘Go back te Ha-lee-wood Squares!'