As promised, the histrionics

I mentioned in my last post that I had a history of taking a somewhat paranoid approach to ensure my young female dauntless self's safety. There are dangers to independence, and at times perhaps I am too conscious of these.

In my last apartment, I lived alone and it was a good lesson on why I should never do that again. First of all, it's like ktb-mindfreak when I'm my only company for hours on end. I would drive myself into this hyper-paranoid state where I would shove a step ladder under my front door, barricade the bedroom, and sleep fitfully clutching my cell phone all night, my fingers trained to dial 9-1-1.

This is my stepladder. It is not my real ladder, but I try not to treat it any differently.

 

It also led to situations such as the time I was trapped inside a dress all night, unable to reach the back zipper. I was fully resigned to sleep in the dang thing when some last ditch miracle contortion saved me. All exaggeration aside, I was literally stuck inside the garment for over 30 minutes. Allow the mental image to fully articulate itself: a girl stomping around her apartment for thirty minutes grunting and swearing at herself as she attempts to reach the allusive zipper. Yes, this included several episodes of arm flailing, tripping over myself, and falling flat to the floor.

Click "Unabridged" for the rest of the story.

Look What I Can Do! home edition.

Today was a very productive day. I went to work, and once that was over and done with, I really got down to business. First up on the agenda: Put up some freakin decorations! I have a bad habit of not decorating my place, largely because I'm never convinced of how long I'm going to be somewhere and I: a. don't want to waste the effort and, b. don't want to falsely commit through my window dressing.

As part of my continued effort to live boldly, I decided to heck with it! I shall hang a picture! After all, I did already paint the room, I might as well put something else on the walls. Here's what happened:

 

It's probably way too much for my bedroom, and that potpurri on the shelf is the one I have to put on my balcony every night because its smell is too strong, so I ultimately will probably end up changing it BUT, just the mere feat of hanging those dang shelves straight made me feel pretty good, so I think I'll revel in that for a while. RUNON! (the painting is NOT mine. It's a print of 19th century Germanic Painter Caspar David Friedrich) 

After this triumphant endeavor with a screwdriver, I headed out to the trail on this unseasonably 70degree late-October day for some roller blading. Now, being a young single female has taught me to take certain precautions when I go adventuring. This is the message I left certain key individuals:

Click "Unabridged" to read the rest. Incentive: there is at least one moment where my pride is threatened and shame is escalated.

Halloween 2010

This year for Halloween, I am Batman.

I actually couldn’t find a costume so I pillaged the ancient Halloween bins in my parent’s attic and found the old-school batman getup my brother had worn two decades ago. The blue felt was in poor shape, but it would suit my pub-crawl costume needs (absent the original grey unitard- I do not have the physique of a 6yr old boy).  


Here's an excerpt from the evening: 

The other question people would ask me a lot was where Robin was. I told them he was with Morgan Freeman, making me a new car. 


The pub crawl was a lot of fun though. I went with a Bootie Call, Shakira, and David Bowie and the whole thing was a community awareness event for the near east side. We went to 5 dive bars, and let me tell you, the locals loved us. Or rather, some of them did and some of them grudgingly bore our presence until we skipped off onto the next bar. Batman did not have to buy all of her drinks that evening, but a lot of that generosity ceased when she couldn't stop referring to herself in the third person. And also when she discovered one of her would be suiters already had a sidekick. Wah-wah. Another misadventure in singletown for ktb. Really, the absurdity in this area of my life has been on a roll lately, I'm nearly never surprised anymore. 


I just found out I'll likely be suiting up again this Saturday for haunted Putt Putt. I don't do well with haunted things, so hopefully Batman won't pee her pants. Happy Halloween!

Why NYC's proposed Food Stamp Restrictions are a Social Issue, not one of Public Health

As most people in my life know, I have recently spent two years living in poverty serving as an Americorps*VISTA. I learned a lot from this experience, both in my service and in the poverty community. As a result, I have developed certain very strong opinions when it comes to poverty-related issues here in America. Although my goal for this blog (and, let's be honest, my life) is to be as non-serious as possible, sometimes a different tone needs to be affected. What follows is my take on Mayor Bloomberg's request to ban soda and sugary drinks from eligible food stamp purchases in NYC. Enjoy or skip, either way I'll post again soon!

Failure, Hobos, and Other Things

From the lack of my post touting absolute victory, I’m sure you can surmise that I did not succeed in my weekend goals. I had many other successes, including a brief belief I was going to be captured and eaten by hillbillies when I got lost on my trail run. The success there is that this did not happen and the hillbillies had to eat someone else that night.

Hillbillies have reminded me of hobos. Probably because they both start with an “h” and are both tragically misunderstood. And also probably because I’m always looking for an excuse to talk about hobos.

For my 23^rd birthday I had a pillow and potato party. Potatoes to eat, pillows to sit on (I only had 2 chairs, but I had more than 2 friends…at that time). So, there we were, all sitting on our pillows, sipping wine, and basking in that warm sleepiness of carb afterglow when someone brings up my love of hobos. Suddenly everyone is in the conversation, and I find myself on the defensive.

FLASHBACK