15 March 2004 | 6:52 p.m.
Red Eyes and Tears
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

I finally put some photos together from the past few weekends!

Here are the pictures from my birthday (see Imagination can make a man of you below):

Me with Jeff the Doorman
I ripped open the snappy shirt...
I'm not perfeft!

Tequila!
Aerosol Cheese
The Dildo (yes there are more pics of this thing but I didn't want them in my journal)

I woke up at 6:23 am and thought, �Fuck, my three alarms didn�t go off and she didn�t call to wake my ass up like she said she would�. My adrenaline was higher than it�s been in days and I was freaked. Now she was going to miss her plane. No, I�m just the dumb ass that got up 40 minutes early, saw the sunlight coming through the windows, went on autopilot, and couldn�t get back to sleep. Fuck all.

I had to take a friend to the airport this morning. She�ll be in London for a few days and then Ireland for a few weeks. No, she won�t be in Ireland for St. Patrick�s Day. She�ll be there the day after. Poor planning? It depends on who you ask.

Recently, a few (two sets of two) of my close friends started dating each other. I was happy for all of them. It was fun while it lasted. Now, I am the puppet. I think I will just change my name to Puppet. We are all in our 30s and should be able to handle this stuff but alas, that is a dream that is out of reach.

One set broke up a few months ago and the tension between them is agonizing for everyone. The other set just broke up on Friday. It was amicable and time. Do I now have to deal with the tension of the other two that just called it quits? For Pete�s sake, what about me? Time will tell for all of them and how much BS I can take.

Everything will work out in the end the way it's supposed to be. Everyone will figure their shit out but I will be annoyed with it while it affects me more than I want it to.

I talked with a friend a few minutes ago. Apparently, quite a few people are concerned with my health. Why? I decided not to drink last night. They are shocked that I�m not the alcoholic I portray in kickball. I can�t live up to everyone�s expectations all the time.

We started talking about that couple (in the UK) that found out they were living in a house that a guy had murdered a family member. He then completely dismembered the body and hid the parts all over the house.

They never found the entire body.

We sat there freaking ourselves out as to all the hiding places he could have used. What would you do if you were taking out a wall and found a head?

We decided the entire house would need to be pulled apart and all parts found.

Now I wonder what the hell is in my walls.

I won't be starting any DIY projects today.

No, I don't have the link to the article but if you have a hissy fit then I will find it for you. I'm not in a link-crazy mood right now.

I feel an empty pit has grown over the past few years in my heart.

I visited my Grandma yesterday, if you want to call it a visit. She has the death rattle already. Grandma wasn�t there; no fire or spark could be found. She opened her eyes for about 5 seconds to let out a groan and then passed out again. Grandma�s not there. Grandma left a long time ago.

I�ve had these fantastic memories for years now. The summers I was able to stay with my Grandparents were amazing. They spoiled me as I�d never been spoiled before. She bought me a bunch of crap I didn�t need every summer. She also bought me the clothes that my Mom couldn�t afford to buy me. At the time, I had no idea why I was getting all this attention from my Grandparents.

One summer, they had three female cats and they all had kittens. If there was heaven on earth, I was in it. It was my �chore� to tame the kittens. I tamed them all and cried the day Grandpa got on the radio �swap shop� to advertise free kittens. It hurt to see all the kittens go but my Grandparents did not want 15 cats fighting for the few mice that lived in the barn.

Grandma always had her flowers to tend to and Grandpa always had his garden. I helped both of them with the weeds. They always had a weed problem. Their backyard is Grandpa�s garden and then it falls off 30 feet down to the Arkansas River. The gardens were always irrigated with river water.

I later found out that I look very similar to Grandma and so it was easy for me to be their favorite of 19 grandchildren. It sucks now. I know Grandpa looks at me and sometimes sees Grandma. It�s a double-edged sword for both of us. Looking at their wedding pictures is eerie. They have one in a hallway that a boyfriend stopped, looked at and asked, �Kalee, what are you doing in this picture and who is that guy?�

�It�s not me, it�s Grandma and that�s Grandpa, it�s their wedding reception in 1939.�

I�ve been letting go for a few years now. I feel guilty because I�m not as depressed and sad as I think I should be. I�m relieved. I�m relieved that she is finally letting go and I think we are all ready to let her go. Her heart is slowing and she�s not getting adequate oxygen to her brain so she just won�t wake up again. Congestive heart failure is what they will call it on the official death certificate but it�s just old age after a good life if you ask me.

At the extended family Christmas gathering (about 40 of us), she remembered me and called me by my name for the first time in years. She talked to me about the current events in my life that Grandpa had told her about and I couldn�t have been happier.

She�s 90, had nine children, an 8th grade education, and was the best Grandma I could ever hope for or want. It�s time.

I rock! I just gave my phone number to this really good-looking guy and told him I think he needs to call me. I didn't even ask him his name. We were staring at each other quite a bit so I just couldn't take it anymore. He has really broad shoulders and he's tall - just the way I like it. If he's interested, he'll call. BTW, I was stone cold sober! Not a lick of alcohol in me!

I met up with a bunch of kickballers for drinks (it's Tuesday 2 dollar you-call-it-night) at Streets of London. That's where I gave the nameless guy my number. I just hope his name isn't Dave. I have a past full of Dave's and I just don't think I can go down that road again. He is yummy enough that I don't really care at this point. He doesn't even need to talk or be smart. We can use each other, be done with it or we can actually like each other, and hang out. I'm game for either scenario.

This was a big birthday for me. I've always told myself that I need to get rid of my Dad's last name by the time I'm 35. I asked my Mom at lunch yesterday if she would mind if I took her maiden name and she said it was fine with her but I need to ask my Grandpa about it.

Tomorrow I'm getting up early and going to visit my Grandma and Grandpa. My Grandma has been in a nursing home for about 2 years now. She sleeps about 90% of the time now so it won't be long before she dies. After I visit for a while then I will ask my Grandpa if he minds if I take his last name. I just don't know anyone from my Dad's side of the family. They all live in North and South Carolina and I met them once when we moved back to the states from Iceland. I'm a little nervous. What if he says no?

For the record, being 34 has seriously kicked some ass. I'm just in a really good state of mind. I'm out of my winter funk and I'm ready for spring. Bring it on. As time goes, I keep on realizing that life is too short and I need to start taking chances like giving some random cute boys my number. I just don't want to have any regrets. I can live with mistakes but regrets eat at my psyche.

Saturday night started with food and a few beers at Wahoo's and then we moved on to Nallen's Irish Pub. That's when people started buying me shots.

I met a nice tall bald guy named Eric. He wasn't too talkative and so I lost interest. As I got drunker, he started looking more and more like Vin Diesel. I'm not really attracted to Vin Diesel so I just walked away.

KrS was talking to a group of guys that stopped me to wish me a Happy Birthday by buying me a car bomb (Jaegermeister and beer) to shoot. They claimed to be Irish and in the states doing contract work of some kind. So they said. 10 minutes later, they didn't have accents. Guys can be so lame.

More beer and a few more shots later we went to The Pourhouse next door.

When I got there, I met some hockey players from Chicago. We talked about The Blackhawks for a bit. I looked up at one of them and he started to look familiar. Then he just busted out, "Yes, I know I look like Ricky Schroeder." Gah. Take the words right out of my mouth without asking.

It was time for shots again. ToF was buying this time around. Prairie fires. My current favorite.

The fake Irish guys followed us from the other bar. They liked a few of my friends. KrS was standing pretty close to one of them. I could tell they were about to start making out. I casually walked by and said, "Don't kiss boys in bars�. Then both of them just started cracking up because she just got done telling him that she needs to stop kissing boys in bars. It's chronic habit of hers. Every time we go out, she does it (I'm not exaggerating). The girl can't keep her tongue in her mouth to save her life when she's drunk. She's trying to control herself so we give her credit for that.

ShR was chatting up a cute boy that asked her why all of us were out. She pointed at me and said, "That girl is my polar opposite and it's her birthday�.

I looked over at my sister and she gave me the "save me from this idiot� look. I stood next to her and she told me that the guy kept on lying and changing his stories. Annoying. He wouldn't go away so I decided to help her out. I looked at him and said, "You can fuck off now." He just stood there. Then I had ToF walk over and tell him politely to leave. Why anyone would stick around when he is obviously not wanted is beyond me. What an idiot.

It got around the bar that KrS was desperately trying not to kiss that guy. Then a guy, I think his name is Ian, dared me to kiss Caleb. Therefore, I did. He tried to choke me with his tongue but I was too fast for him... it was a quick peck.

Then it hit me. Caleb was wearing a shirt with snaps. Fun Fun! I grabbed the top of his shirt and let it rip! I got most of his shirt open. A few moments later amnesia kicked in when I was grabbing his shirt from the bottom and yippy skip I undid all the snaps. I was quite proud of myself. I won the game; he wasn't fun anymore so I fucked off.

I don't think I'm the only girl that likes shirts with snaps. Am I? Is it similar to when we go commando and guys find that intriguing? So close but yet so far? The tease?

Soon after that, I heard someone scream that our cab was there and we were off. My sister thinks I'm a RockStar because I was up and about by 11 am. I felt like shit but I was drinking water and eating Tums to settle my stomach. I didn't puke but I deserved to after all those shots.

Look at the time...it's official...I'm 34 now. Feh.

last entry / next entry