Poor People Love Welfare and Tiny Closets

"Have you ever thought you might like a walk-in closet? Every place you live, I always think you could use a bigger closet."

- Kyle, commenting on my closet, which can reasonably be considered an Insane Asylum for Clothes.

(ALTERNATIVE CAPTION)

- Kyle, being a dick.

Seriously, this picture was one of the first results for 'Ballerest Closet Ever'. Google Image, you crazy.

Sweat It Out

For Halloween 2008, I was Amy Winehouse. It was the illest costume ever. On seeing photos, my own brother was like 'You make an incredibly convincing crackhead'. (Also, no hate here. I am a huge huge huge Amy Winehouse fan, this was a tribute costume. It just happened to be an uncanny one.)

Kyle took all the pictures of the night, and I'm glad he took approximately five minutes longer than I wanted to wait to post the pictures on Facebook, because I had a fortunate realization, leading me to send him the following message - on Facebook.

Yo,

I was going to be like 'PLEASE PUT UP THE HALLOWEEN PICTURES ALREADY' but then I was like 'wait, in the 'morning after' photos I'm totally wearing sweatpants that I stole from some dude I hooked up with this summer and we're facebook friends and I don't want him to see those pictures and be like 'OH, NOW I REMEMBER WHAT I DID WITH THOSE PANTS' because they're absolutely the kind of pants that a person would drive themselves nuts trying to find, because they're the most perfect sweatpants ever, and I don't want to give them back.

And I actually only thought of this because that guy just called and I think God sort of text-messaged my brain like "MAKE SURE KYLE KNOWS TO TELL YOU BEFORE HE POSTS THE PICTURES SO YOU CAN UN-TAG YOURSELF" because I don't know if I'm going to see this guy again, but if I do, I definitely don't want him to bring up the pants, because he's a Republican, so I don't see it going anywhere, but I foresee a long, happy life for those pants, and I am TOTALLY IN IT.

Guess what happened?

And remember, the life of kk is sort of an inverted romantic comedy, so everything works out in the end. By which, I mean:

I still rock those sweatpants on the regular - and now they're all shrunken and frayed and perfect and a wonderful part of my home life. And I have no idea what happened to that Republican guy. Although we probably are still Facebook friends.

Wait a Minute

(Yeah, you remember)

HOLD THE TRAIN.

Whitney and Ray J were in a relationship? A five year long relationship? Are you kidding me? I've been all 'Don't blame Bobby, Whitney was a grown ass woman, there has to be some accountability...', but come on, Bobby. You had a child with this woman. You want Ray J around that child? Sexy, you canNOT.

This has been kind of hard to take. I lost my virginity to Whitney Houston. She was important to me.

Woah, I meant Whit was on the radio. I didn't lose it to her, physically. Although that would have been a way better story, sorry.

What Are You Looking For?

Google Search History for the Week of February 6, 2012

- Hickey Spoon Trick

- Cilantro Lemon Hummus

- Washington DC Animal Shelter

- Does anyone else eat half an apple at a time, or does everyone eat the whole damn apple at once? (Sometimes when I'm feeling too crazy to ask another human being a question, I ask Google)

- Beyonce Discography

- I have a ton of cilatro recipes

- Can you buy just a handful of Xanax at a time anywhere?

- Tribe documentary Michael Rappaport

- 30 Rock Writers

- Do individual slices of cake need to be refrigerated?

- Pretty Woman Flossing Bathroom Scene (These search results were way less weird than they could have been)

- Eat Your Vegetables Saturday Morning Cartoon (Does anyone remember this? The veggies, and maybe some cheese and a glass of milk like, march along the table? It was the shit. I can't find it anywhere)

- Can you make Hummus in a Blender? (You can.)

- Children's Book Awards 2011

- What time does SuperBowl 2012 start

- Where My Killa Tape

It was a weird week.

Share Your SpinBrush, Whore.

(I always mean 'whore' in the good way)

Wait, so it's weird that I keep a toothbrush in my purse at all times? Everyone doesn't equip themselves with a full-time Travel Toothbrush? Other people are that certain about when they'll see their at-home toothbrush 100% of the time?

Maybe this speaks to my somewhat unstable lifestyle, but I find it's excellent social planning. No one bats a lash when you're like "Yo, can I borrow your toothpaste?", but most people are hard core weirded out when you're like 'Hey, so I'm just going to polish mes dents with your Spin Brush real quick?' (Bless the friends who are totally cool with that*.) I mean, humans do all manner of weird shit to each other with their mouths - the toothbrush seems like such an arbitrary line. A toothbrush is probably one of the cleaner things of someone else's that you can stick in your mouth.

Anyway, yeah, I do find myself wanting to brush my teeth in other people's bathrooms on the fairly regular, and no, it's not because I'm some kind of escort (I wish! If we learned anything from the 90's, it's that if you're a hooker with good oral hygenie, Richard Gere will save you in the end**) but because I have emotional problems and abhor regularity and routine and frequently find myself not-at-home when it's time to brush my teeth***.

I don't think it's that weird, or necessarily indicative of sluttiness (although I am both kind of weird and kind of slutty, I don't think there's any correlation.). But today, when my Travel Toothbrush fell out of my bag, my boss had a lot of questions about it, and it got me thinking.

Also, it had gotten separated from it's container (by which I mean 'the off-brand Ziploc bag I store it in had busted') so it was just floating around in there all raw, which is gross, but it's a pretty new purse so there's not a lot of tobacco flakes and Kashi dust littering the bottom yet. Still gross, okay. Sorry.

Anyway, Travel Toothbrushes are cool. Brush your teeth, yo! And eat your vegetables! I know I seem like a shitty person to take lifestyle advice from, but that shit is probably why I'm still alive. Also, drink water. SEE? I'm a genius.

* Like following the debased summer of 2006 when - in September - four of us realized we all thought the purple toothbrush was ours. And then were like 'We should probably just toss the purple one? Since we have worked it out.' (Word up, Spot kids!)

** And that George Costanza is mad rapey! Seriously, I'm not letting my hypothetical daughter watch Pretty Woman until she's like, twenty-eight. That movie does not prepare young girls for life. Don't trip, though, we are going to watch the shit out of Dirty Dancing. No fast forwarding through the botched abortion scene, either. That's a useful message. Wrap it up, yo!

***Which is actually like, all the time. I have the worst teeth. I look at sugar and I pop a tiny cavity.

See what I did there? Richard Gere saved you in the end!

For My Ladies, Single and Otherwise

I don't think I've made a habit of endorsing products here (though I have made some specific warnings about certain gross foods. Frozen pudding, gags and gags, ugh.) because I feel like: if you care about my opinion on something like face cream or conditioner, you'd just ask me. And since no one's like, banging down my door, I'm assuming no one cares. But today, I have to say something. I can't keep this to myself.

Holy shit, Garnier's BB Cream. Holy Shit. This stuff - it's like making the switch from pads to tampons. Your life will improve that much. Honestly, there is no reason I shouldn't look like absolute shit this week. I went out too much last weekend, and I smoked too many cigarettes, and because I'm old now I just can't stop being exhausted, and I'm probably PMSing and a whole host of other shit that should make my face look like, haggard. I keep waking up and expecting to see Heidi Fleiss in the mirror. But I don't. I look kind of fly. Because of this stuff.

I am a maddeningly inconsistent human being, but when it came to foundation, I kept things pretty regular for the last fifteen years or so*. Until last year when I was like 'I am tired of putting all this shit on my face every morning' so I went to just concealer, but then sometimes you're like 'my face looks like a pile of garbage this morning' and foundation's really good for that.

Then the other day I was reading XOJane.com (Cat Marnell is totally what I would have become had I grown up with money, so, naturally, I love her and read everything she writes. Also, she's a fabulous writer) and she was raving about this BB Cream, and her opinion's been gold in my book since I first saw her rocking these tights (look at these tights! They are the most fabulous things ever. I'm wearing them right now.) So I was like 'I'll try it'.

Holy shit. Holy shit! First of all, it smells better than foundation (it's more like a tinted moisturizer) and you can just smear it on your face and it blends in easy, and then - it actually makes your skin look better. For reals. Measurably better. After like, three days I noticed a difference, and then I was like 'maybe I'm just drunk' - and I was - but, here it is Wednesday and my skin looks fucking awesome. That's it. If you want your face to look fucking awesome when it has no earthly right to, then use this shit.

If you're a guy and you made it this far, I have a prize for you. And by prize I mean advice. Buy this shit for someone in your life**. And if they respond 'Um, why the shit did you get me face cream and hoisery?' Just be like: Woman, I am about to rock your world/make you feel like the sexiest motherfucker alive/whatever it is you say to your lady friends, because I'm betting you don't talk to them like the character that resulted when Shaft and Leon Phelps mixed their DNA. Anyway, they'll appreciate it.

*In a sort of backhanded product endorsement, that old standard was CoverGirl AquaSmooth. I've tried everything out there, and that shit is my second favorite. And it's like, $30 less expensive than the third favorite, which I don't even remember what that is I've been on CG so long.

**I don't know, probably not for Valentine's Day? I don't really know the rules for that, though.

Honestly, There's Nothing Sexier Than Manners

(Not even those sex-line ab muscle things that go into a guy's jeans. Those are totally top five, though.)

So I have some beef with DC. Mostly it's my own shit, because I have beef with everything (including, even, beef itself), so I'll leave most of it aside and just focus on the manners thing.

Oh my goodness, why does EVERYONE in DC have the most terrible manners? I have three examples from JUST TODAY. Pretty much every single time I went somewhere, some motherfucker was just so crazy rude/oblivious it made it hard for me to continue about my business.

Example One: Not Saying Thank You.

This afternoon I got some grub at Zorba's*. I was waiting on the wall for my number to be called, so I had an amazing perspective on the guy whose order was called right before me, who picked up his souvlaki and fries from the gentleman behind the counter and DIDN'T SAY THANK YOU. He didn't even look at homie. Just picked up his shit and turned his back. The cook was like 'thank you!' without a hint of snark in his voice, and I just wanted to apologize on behalf of all people who've ever eaten at his restaurant, ever.

Like, when, EVER, ever, is it acceptable for you not to thank the person who made your meal? I don't want to think about what kind of upside-the-head-slap I'd incur from my parents if I pulled that shit. Oh, wait. Zero, because my parents taught us to thank people who do things for you, because they were interested in raising decent human beings. Imagine being on a date with that guy? There's literally no explanation he could give me that would make me see the rest of that situation through. Almost anything would be easier to rationalize than that:

Second Worst Date Ever: "I gets real Norman Bates with it. My deceased mother is on a rocker in the basement."

kk: "Oh, word? Is she...was this a request of hers? Is she like, at least preserved and shit? Are you waiting for an ideal location in the cemetery crypt to open up? Are you saving up for an ill plot? That shit is pricey."

I mean, I'm not going home with Bates Jr., but I'm staying through the end of lunch. For the story, at least. But Non-Thanking Guy? Bye. Give me your falafel, and I'm out. Yeah, ALL your falafel, son. Also, that guy was with a lady. Unless she was on a pound of Xanax from dealing with that dick day in and day out, there's no excuse for letting that slide. She's accountable, too.

Example Two: Not Giving Up Your Seat on the Bus for a Child

I'm breaking in some new boots, and my right foot hurt like woah, so I took the D2 rather than walking home this afternoon (I swear, it's just as fast.). Three stops in, a woman got on with her adorable, curly haired girl child. The kid could not have been more than three. Despite the fact that both rows of seats along the front of the bus were lined with able bodied adults, not ONE person offered their seat. (I was standing, towards the back, before you throw your stone.)

My father once said, in reference to the Titanic and other disaster situations: "That women and children shit? No way. Children only. I'm not giving up my seat to no lady. I might kill your ass and float on you, but I'm not giving up my seat."

Which, word, I totally get that. I should know how to swim if I get on a boat. I can't rely on my tits for everything. But children! Children! Yo, get the fuck up and give that baby your seat, jerk off. I mean, seriously. You know what's right.

Example Three: Yo, SAY EXCUSE ME

I am getting heated again, so I'll cut this one shorter.

But, on the real, I don't know if it's because there are so many international people...no, okay, that doesn't excuse the fact that there is no real flow to the pedestrian traffic patterns here. I was going to be like 'well some people in the world drive on the left...' but in reality, if some adorable British dude walked into me because he didn't get how to pass and shit, that would probably charm the tights off me, and that has also happened a total of zero times. Usually, it's what happened this afternoon: a crazy white lady on a run spasms and runs directly into me, and just spins on by, like how an insect flies into you. Also, why are you running down Wisconsin at 5:30 in the afternoon? You realize there's like, woods and paths and LESS CONGESTED STREETS AND SHIT, RIGHT? No. You don't care. And it's not just runners. It's people everywhere in this city. They bang into you, and just don't excuse themselves. How is this okay, ever? I want to have everyone's parents over for a conference: You raised some rude ass humans. You have failed so solidly. Address this.

That's it for now, I guess. I'm also really annoyed that the whole city recycles at a second grade level and no one knows how to cross the street, but I can save those for later posts, I'm sure.

*Shout out! To the bomb ass Greek gentleman who ran the coffee shop on the 8th floor of Boston's City Hall, and who made the straight up greatest Avgolemono soup I have ever had in my life. Nothing has ever come close. I half expect to go to Greece and be disappointed. It was also like, two huge servings for three dollars. Homeboy kept me sa-ti-ated.

...PP, Yeah, You Know Me! Yeah, Everyone's Probably Making that Joke.

Planned Parenthood is not an abortion clinic.

That's like...that's not a hard concept. If all they did was perform abortions, they'd probably be called something like 'Termination Parenthood', or 'Abortion Place', or probably neither of those, because they aren't very catchy names*.

For reals, though, besides the fact that only like, 3% of PP's money goes to funding abortions...even if you're pro-life, you really don't see the benefits? I know my bleeding lefty liberal goggles make my vision all hazy and blue, but - seriously?

Listen, I've never had an abortion. I hope that's a decision I never have to make. But Planned Parenthood has definitely had a hand in helping my womb stay empty. (Or who knows, maybe they had nothing to do with it. Maybe I'm barren! Probably not. I'm Irish. We've got that rabbit DNA.) Boston, that mecca of wanton liberal urbanity, has plenty of convenient, accessible PP locations. Do you know how poor I was the first years I lived in Boston? I mean, I was poor the whole time - I'm still poor - but those first years in the North End? Dude. When your stove is also your heater, shit has gotten interesting. (Like, the apartment was set up that way. This was an OG North End apartment. By which I mean we lived in a tenement.) I was broke - and Planned Parenthood was my jam.

And just, even if you have insurance, birth control can be expensive as hell. You can get like, every kind of birth control at Planned Parenthood. So you can experiment with different kinds and see what works for you, which is important from a reproductive freedom standpoint. And, everything is WAY CHEAPER than at any pharmacy. Plan B is literally 50% cheaper at PP than at CVS. At least. And condoms are always free - they're in a big old bowl by the doorway, just like in gay bars. (Why don't straight bars do this, by the way? If you ask me, conservative straight people are irresponsible as shit. Wrap it up, yo!)

I went to PP, I never got pregnant. The same, completely sensical point that lots of people make: Planned Parenthood is keeping abortions off the street, friends. And I'm just a regular ass person with no additional shit going on in my lady cavities, but if there were trouble in the neighborhood, Planned Parenthood could give me a hand with that, too. Planned Parenthood: It's More than Just Birth Control (And It's Hardly Ever Abortions)**.

Whatever programs the Susan G. Komen Foundation wants to fund is up to them. That's their prerogative as a private organization. And it's your decision as an individual citizen where to donate. If you're uncomfortable with their politics, don't give them money. Honestly, I've never understood all this Racing and Walking and Biking and Scuba Diving and Dog Sledding for The Cure fuss anyway. If I want to donate money somewhere, can't I just give them the money? I don't see why anyone needs to like, perform feats of athleticism for it. (And all that pink swag seems a bit...precious. To me.) Cut down ya overhead, son! But again - personal choices.

If we had our socialist healthcare by now, this wouldn't even be an issue. But we don't, so this kind of shit happens. Health care shouldn't be politicized. It should just be. You know?

Seriously, has someone put a remixed version of 'OPP' on the internets yet? Because I've been making up lyrics in my head this whole time: "I'm down with the PP, that's why I've got no baby!" Yeah, you have to shoehorn that in there a little but it works, trust me.

*They'd probably stick with 'Planned Parenthood'.

**Man, I suck at slogans.

Yo, it was HARD to find an amusing image using the search term 'Termination Parenthood'. So - enjoy this still from the Motion Picture 'The Never Ending Story'. Because I think we can all agree: Falcor is the bomb.