Julien Donkey Boy.

In honor of Mother's Day, my mother decided to dig through a bunch of stuff in search of previous gifts (crap) I had given her.

Along with some pictures of how weird I used to look...

...we found this gem.

Yes, it is a journal and yes, it is as terrible as it looks. (In my defense, I was only 8 and it appears to have been some type of school assignment. And I'm just guessing, but I feel like that cover art was probably added later on in life...probably 6th grade when block letters were in.)

Before I divulge in the artistic stylings of my 3rd grade self, I would like to take a closer look at what the heck is going on and why Wayne Gacy is on the inside cover of my school project?!

Why?

Okay, so now that I have fully ensured my having nightmares tonight, let's see how brilliant I was. (Because you know I was.)

*Note: I'm transcribing pretty much exactly how it is written, with only minor clarifications.

Oct. 14

Today is a good day. And I'm going to be a ticket today. Jesse is my friend. Me and Jesse both are going to be a genie for Halloween. But I don't celebrate Halloween. I go to a Pumkin Patch Party. It has Jesus games. And there you can't be bad things. It's really fun. Today my mom was in the news paper. And Austin is talking to himself. It bugs.

1. It took me forever to figure out what "being a ticket" meant. Fortunately, I remembered that was what we called it when you bought the school lunch instead of bringing your own. Ticket lunches were the bane of every 3rd graders existence at my school because the food was equivalent to that stuff on your driveway that has leaked out of your car. (Unless of course it was pizza day...which is always good.)

2. I'm dying over the "Jesus games." Dying. I was referring to an event at my church that I went to every year as a kid. It rocked.

3. Austin was a boy who I had a huge crush on for most of my childhood. Fives years later, he would be my first kiss.

Nov. 2 1999

If I had 3 wishes?...

I'd want all the cinnamon rolls in the world would be my first wish. My second wish would be to have all the money in the world. My third wish is to have a magical unicorn. But that won't happy so all (I'll) settle for 1 cinnamon roll, 5 dollars and a dog and a cat.

1. Cinnamon rolls are still my favorite food of all time. Let's face it, they are God's gift to mankind. (Also, up top to 8-year-old me for correctly spelling cinnamon.)

2. Magical unicorn?! Brilliance.

3. The sad realism at the end of this is hilarious.

Dec. 14, 1999

I wish I could...

I wish I could fly. Because you could go to Hawii (Hawaii). I could fly anywhere I dreamed of. I could fly to some weird place with dancing elephants. Of course you never heard of a place like that. Or have you?

1. We went to Hawaii that year and it was my first time on a plane.

2. Dancing elephants?!

3. Addressing the audience...look at me, just breaking that 4th wall.

1/7/00

If I were the president I would...

Well first of all my White house would be made of sugar. I would get to have cinnamon rolls everyday. I would make peace between wars. I would make sure that I could talk (to) everyone that'd like to talk to me. But If I were president I'd make the U.S.A better.

1. Sugar White House?! More cinnamon rolls?! No wonder I had a kidney stone...

2. Look at me, just fixing all of our current problems through cavities and conversation.

3. There was a point in my childhood where I wanted to be the president. (Followed by model, ballerina and stand-up comedian.)

4/26/00

My sister Katie...

I have a sister her name is Katie. She is very pretty. I think that even though (we) fight a lot I'll still love her. She is in track just like me. We're both athletic because we've been in a lot of sports. She is mean but sometimes nice. Katie means pure. Or at least that's what her name means. She doesn't have a boyfriend. But she's ok with that. She has a lot of friends that our (are) boys. She likes sports but mostly shopping. She likes volleyball and track. I love her a lot. She is a great sister. I wouldn't like it if she wasn't my sister. That is all I can say about my sister Katie.

1. This was the longest one out of all the entries.

2. We did indeed fight a lot, but we are 7 years apart so I can only imagine what a 15-year-old thought of this crap.

3. I was really into what people's names meant. Mine means warrior. (But I just double-checked babynames.com and it said it meant "bright-headed" so...there you go.)

4. She has a boyfriend now. :)

5. I really wouldn't like it if she wasn't my sister.

5/25/00

If I could invent something...

I'd invent a lazer (laser) beam so I could beam people to go in another person's stomach. So I could see what a heart looks like. But if I messed up I could do big damage. So I would have to be careful. But I don't know how to invent stuff.

1. Clearly, I stole this from an episode of Magic School Bus.

2. Why would there be a heart in someone's stomach?!

3. Look at me just keepin' it real at the end.

So there you go, a brief glimpse into my childhood.

Go ahead and say it, I was a precious lamb.

Another Travelin' Song.

I don't remember the first time I held hands with a boy...but I do remember the first time(s) I was propositioned to hold hands with a boy.

I was only 12 (I think) and he was my neighbor.
A few of us went to see The Village. (Yeah, that weirdo M Night Shyamalan movie...no, no, not that one, the other one.)

We're watching Big Red run through the deceptive forest full of monsters, when my neighbor leans over to me and says, "Hey, do you want me to hold your hand?"

Granted, he was probably young and scared of the forest monsters, so I applaud his wording of, "do you want ME to hold YOUR hand?" Instead of saying, "Please, hold my hand. I love you."

I didn't know what to do. 1. I didn't want to hold his hand. 2. My hands were all sweaty anyway, so I didn't want to impugn my own reputation by being known as Kelli SweatyHands. 3. No prior pop-culture knowledge prepared me for this moment.

So what what did I say?

"Uhm, I think I'm fine. Thank you though."

We never talked after that.

The second time a boy asked me to allow him my hand in cinemas was when I was 13. We were watching the Day After Tomorrow because it came out on the last day of school and so I guess we decided to celebrate by watching the end of the world.

The thing is, I liked this boy. Or rather, I liked that he liked me. (Isn't that how it always goes?)
Also, he was a semi-celebrity. (He had a small role in a film with Keanu Reeves. So. Yeah.) Just in case he was famous someday, I figured I could let him hold my hand while Dennis Quaid traipsed across America in search of Jake Gyllenhaal. Whatever.

Here's the thing though, even though I was a wee bit older, I was still Kelli SweatyHands and I didn't want rumors to start swirling among Keanu and friends that I was some freak of nature.

He never explicitly asked to hold my hand, or let him hold mine or whatever, but I could sense the tension building between the arm rests.

And I was thinking, "Crap. What do I do?"

So I grabbed a napkin off the ground (in the dark) to dab the excess sweat off my hands (my life, man haha) when all of a sudden, I realized the napkin was covered in nacho cheese.
And now my hands were covered in a weird combination of cheese and perspiration! I was trying to hide this, but there was A LOT of cheese and it was gross and you could smell it.

So precious, young Keanu (who was watching me this whole time) who had such a way with words, said, "What are you doing?"
I tried to think of an excuse off the top of my head, "I dropped my nachos!" "When does Jake talk to the bunny?" "Is this the part where D. Quaid joins that baseball team?" "Are these your nachos?" "Who bought these dang nachos?" "So what's Keanu like in person?" but the situation was hopeless.

"Uhm...I think I got cheese on my hands?"

Needless to say, there was no hand-holding that day.

Small Town Moon.

Emma said I was being too depressing. (So cheers to this less than depressing post. You're welcome, Shmemz.)

Friday night I attended (probably) one of the best concerts I have ever been to.

Ingrid Michaelson at the Wiltern (which just so happens to be the exact same venue where this little gem occurred.)

So here's why...

1. Who ever knew Ings was so funny? Homegirl's got some serious jokes. (Which included her calling out the annoying girl in the front row who was singing (in a really obnoxious voice) so loud to "The Way I Am" that Ingrid couldn't even hear herself anymore. She then proceeded to hand the mic over to the girl (named Rachel) and have her sing...in said obnoxious voice.)

2. The band that opened for her, Harper Blynn (who we had never heard of), was hanging out nonchalantly in the audience near us, during the performance of two girls in Ingrid's band. Anyway, we knew they must be someone of importance because they came out of the super, secret curtain on the side that some scary woman was guarding with her life.

3. Velveteen Cheetah shorts - that's what Emma was wearing. Given the fact that they were not only cheetah-print, but also made of a velvet-like material, we knew we could use them to get the attention of Harper Blynn (before we knew they were Harper Blynn).

4. We saw the Harper Blynners after the show and told them the story of how we thought we could use a pair of unusual shorts to get their attention, but were unsuccessful, but I guess still kind of successful because we were chatting with them at that moment. (Cheers to new friends and knucks all around!)

Here's where things get depressing...

I was laying in bed that night, watching the latest episode of Parks & Rec when all of a sudden, my back started hurting terribly.

And by "terribly" I mean it was the worst pain I have ever felt...in my entire life.

I got out of a bed and instantly felt nauseous.

As I was lying on the bathroom floor, writhing in pain and self-pity, I decided that I should probably go to the hospital, because clearly, I was dying.

So at 3am, I called my good friend Lenna and told her that I was dying and needed to go to the ER and like the little lamb she is, she came right away, with her silly, Irish boyfriend.

Here's the thing about doctors...sometimes I'm not really sure they "get it."
I'm lying there, shaking, white as a ghost, feeling all kinds of crappy (as I threw up twice on the way to Lenna's car and once when I actually got in the car) and they HAVE to ask me...what kind of pain is it? Dull? Sharp? Stabbing? Pounding?

"What?! I don't know. The kind that hurts really bad!"

Eventually, after some morphine (which I was really scared to take, but once I had a little bit, I realized it was awesome and even asked for more, at one point...I was in pain!), a CT scan (where a little tiny Indian woman had to push me in my bed like some cripple, "I'm sorry you have to push me." And then I threw up on the way back, "Sorry I threw up."), blood work, a forced urine sample ("But what if I don't have to pee?" They wouldn't give me water so I did the best I could), I found out I had a kidney stone.

"You mean like Joey on that one episode of Friends?"

At this point, given the amount of painkillers floating around in my bloodstream, I was feeling pretty comfortable, so I wasn't too scared anymore.

But then the medication started wearing off and they discharged me with my several prescriptions around 6am.

I hadn't slept at all that night and I felt bad for Lenna and Cian who had to wait with me the entire time.

My kidney was hurting again as we drove to the pharmacy only to find out it didn't open until 7. So we all just took a nap in Lenna's car until then. When we woke up, we found out we were wrong and the store opened at 7, but the pharmacy didn't open until 8.

I wanted to cry.

Luckily, the lady in the store told us about another store which was open (which would have been nice to know earlier...) and we were able to get my drugs and get out.

The doctor said it was probably from not drinking enough water and consuming things with high acidity.

"Do you drink a lot of coffee or soda?"

"Are you kidding? Everyday. I LOVE both of those things." (My bad.)

So now I'm just...ya know...waiting for it to pass.
I'm not in much pain and luckily I know the greatest people in the world, who were kind enough to bring me season 4 of Friends AND Banjo Tooie!

All in all, life's pretty good.

Like my mom said my grandpa used to say, "You can't kid a kidney."

Moving Clocks Run Slow.

Mom: "You must be pretty desperate."

Me: "I'm the textbook definition of desperate."

This was what my mother told me after I informed her of the inordinate amount of summer jobs I applied for. Including, but not limited to, Home Depot (in which I lied about being able to use power tools), Chicos (the anti-christ of women's clothing...aka the place your 5th grade teacher shopped), Starbucks (with the worst customers...let's just be honest, I would probably cry on a regular basis if they hired me), Pac Sun (where I lied about saying I had retail experience), a running store (that hates me) and the job I had last year (that I hate back).

I had an interview over spring break with this local running store (despite my clear loathing of exercise and ill-fitting tennis shoes) and it went really well. I was witty and charming and personable and just like a bad, first date, I never heard from the guy again.

To make matters worse, I emailed him several times in hopes that he simply forgot or perhaps was in a terrible car accident and was completely distraught over his lack of ability to let me know that I got the job!

But yeah...nothing. From anyone. Except for the job I have had for the past 3 summers and swore I would never do again. Don't get me wrong, it's a great job/great place to work...I guess I just wanted something new where children didn't have the opportunity to throw tennis balls, tennis rackets, golf balls, golf clubs, crayons, magic markers, their shoes, their friend's shoes, etc. at my face.

To top it all off, finals are next week and I'm moving back home home just shortly after that, so I don't really have time to find anything else. I have been confining myself to the library (a place I hadn't dared to venture up til now...the end of my third year of college).

I'm trying to finish up final stories and scripts that are literally the WORST. I hate everything about them - the plot and the stupid characters and all their stupid conflicts...everything. So needless to say, I'm having all kinds of fun in my final weeks of school.

Also, I gotta be honest...I feel really weird about the Invisible Children thing. It's been on my mind a lot the last couple of days and I'm not really sure what to think anymore.

They came to my school a few years ago and I had the opportunity to hear firsthand accounts from the people shown in the video. It was actually one of the first posts I ever made on my blog. With the video/campaign released last month, it was amazing to see how many people and celebrities jumped on board to stand behind something.

I understand that there was a lot of criticism and to be honest, I feel like sometimes people just want to complain. I get not accepting something at first glance, but come on...people just like being controversial.

And then the whole episode with Jason...and that was just terrible. I mean how do you even explain that? Dehydration? Really? I don't think dark pee really makes you wanna tear your clothes off, but to each his own.

Here's the thing though, what happened to all of those people who were so quick to stand behind Invisible Children and all they stood for? Where did they all go? If you say you're gonna do something, then do it. Don't just tweet/tumbl/blog crap and then pretend it never existed.

People are so flaky and noncommittal and I hate that.

I hate that because that's exactly how I am. I'm afraid to even write this on here, because I think too much of what people think and what they are thinking I am thinking.

To be honest, I still think it's a good organization and I believe in what they are doing. Whatever - they asked people to put up a few posters, don't act like every skater kid you know doesn't do the exact same thing for Quiksilver and RVCA.

All I'm saying is that there are worse things to be complaining about. I just wish people wouldn't jump on a bandwagon and then slyly fall off, hoping no one notices.

But what do I know? I can't even get a job at Home Depot!

Finally, in even BIGGER news...Spartacus went missing!!

Fortunately, I got a call AND text AND picture proof from my papa, saying that he is back and in good health! He was just in the backyard and since he's just a small, little nugget, it's understandable how he could be overlooked.

Can't wait to hang out with him all summer. Maybe things ARE looking up.

A Little Blue.

I hate (or at least greatly dislike) a lot of things right now…

And I feel bad because I feel like I shouldn’t feel bad, as if I don’t deserve to feel bad or something and that just makes me feel worse.

I’m upset because I still don’t have a job this summer. I had (what I thought to be) a great interview and have yet to hear anything back. I’ve been scrambling to find other possibilities, but it’s tough out there in the working world.

And I’m so frustrated with so many aspects of school right now. I hate that I live in a dungeon and a gross boy left skid marks in MY toilet and then proceeded to dry his grimy hands on MY TOWEL. (I literally almost cried.)

And I hate that I can’t just let something happen. I have to continually think about and dissect the crap out of it, until it practically doesn’t exist anymore. I’m always reliving situations in my head, wondering if they could have gone better - rewriting what I should have said…

I hate how lonely I can feel and how lonely I allow myself to feel. I hate that moment when you’re talking to someone and you can actually feel yourself turning into a mirror, as they just stare at themselves waiting for their turn to talk, trying to find bits and pieces of themselves and their story in you. I walk into a room and people are asking me where this person or that person is, as if no one is satisfied that it is just me.

No one asks because no one cares. They nod their heads to prevent their eyes from glazing over.

And I’m constantly comparing myself to what others have and what they are doing. Should I be doing that? Should I not be doing that? Am I on track? Should I be dressing like that? Eating that way? Listening to that music? Should I hug people more? Am I trying hard enough?

And I just want to cry.

Because these are such worthless feelings of doubt, but I can’t help but feel them. I can’t help and feel inadequate and monotonous. I feel boring and alone. I’m just so mad at so many things and it makes me feel angry toward people and situations.

And the thing is, I feel like I’m trying to FIND happiness. As if once I get more money or a job or a cute guy to make me mix tapes…or as soon as more people start reading my blog, then I will be happy again. (The thing is, it’s not that I’m unhappy, I’m just not really all that happy. I like to think there’s a difference.) And that’s not how life should be measured. That’s not how true happiness works.

I think I'm just a little lost right now.


A little inspiration to help me find my way...

Dying Read.

My good friend Robert asked me to write something for his blog and of course, after putting it off for a few months, I said yes!

So here it is...What NOT To Do When You Get Your Heart Broken...and other pearls of wisdom...

Their whole site is full of gems and I'm glad I was able to be a part of it.


Speaking of dying, I'm seeing Cabin in the Woods tonight for the midnight showing because I have LOST MY MIND. No seriously, I'm already regretting this decision.

Not that I'm easily scared...but my last two encounters with horror movies have led to me sleeping with the light on and an awkward moment in which I had to answer my door at 2am wearing gigantic American flag shorts. (Not my finest hour)

In fact, the one time I tried watching Paranormal Activity with friends, I thought I could get away with sneaking off to the bathroom during the scary parts...but as soon as I got up to make a break for it, my dear friends PAUSED it.

Me: What are you doing?
Friends: We can wait.
Me: Oh no, that's okay. I'm just gonna go to the bathroom. You can keep playing it.
Friends: No. We will wait.

So I'm sure once I come down off my twizzler-induced sugar high, I'll be lying in my bed, eyes wide open, wondering what in the world I just put myself through.

Not to mention, what I was willing to shovel out 11 bones for.

Here goes nothing.

**UPDATE** (Now that I've seen the movie)
Clearly, I knew nothing about this movie before going to see it, because my expectations were all off. Without giving anything away, I can say that I very much enjoyed seeing this film. It was reminiscent of Shaun of the Dead or even the Scream movies, in a good way. Very interesting and worth seeing. Well played, Sigourney, well played.

Spartacus (again)

What did I do during Spring Break?
No, seriously...
One second, I was home with all this free time at my feet and the world in my back pocket and the next I was back at my apartment (which now smells faintly of butt) crying into my pillow at the ridiculous amounts of homework I clearly did not do.
Only three weeks left of school, but let's be honest, I have been mentally checked out since before the semester even started.
I. Am. Doomed.

Here's what I did do though...watched Golden Girls til the sun came up, drank so much coffee that I think I wore a hole in my stomach lining (you're welcome, digestive system), stalked the cute boy at Starbucks (whilst pretending to do homework) because I CAN and played with Spartacus who I hadn't seen since before I left for Italy.

What a model.

So now, I'm back at school trying to figure out what to do with my life.

Also, just a fun little factoid. I got a call today saying that someone dropped out of LA 101 and that if I was still interested, I could go in their place!

I said, yes.

And then I said, no.

Hah, I promise it wasn't on purpose, it just worked out that way. Oh the irony.

Also, I have been doing some writing for my friend Rob's blog over at Dying Read, which will go up eventually, but you should still check it out because he's hilarious.

Oh yeah and I found out via my comments/blatant stalking of my stats, that I was nominated for some type of blogging award by my peers! And to be honest, I've seen these type of "awards" on other people's blogs and I always thought it was kinda lame (like those kids who frame their perfect attendance certificates), but now that people have given it to me, I feel like I can stand behind it. I wasn't even nominated just once, but twice.

The first was by Rachel Emmilee who is just a precious lamb.

And the second was by Hanna who is all kinds of awesome.

Thanks guys. Glad to know that sometimes I'm a winner.

No, but really, I'm off to go drown myself in my homeword (/see if there are any new shows on hulu...old habits die hard).

It's become a bit sad. Last night, I couldn't figure out how to end my story for my fiction class...so I just stopped writing.

I guess that's one way of doing it.

The end.