Firteen

On day four, you wrote a post about losing something. Today, write about finding something.

Continuing on with the Writing 101 prompts. Day 13.

This week I found out that I love Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2. I’ve been meaning to watch them and I finally got around to it. I had seen bits of Vol. 2 a couple years ago but I finally watched both straight through.

Today I found that I enjoy driving towards Lower Cape instead of driving back to Boston. Lower Cape eventually becomes a dead end unless there is a boat waiting for me at the tip of Provincetown that I wasn’t aware of. I had no purpose for driving that way but I was there and I was driving further and further away from home. I didn’t care. Well, I cared at first. When I started driving past the familiar turns and started noticing the turns that weren’t so familiar, I started to panic a little. Maybe I should put my GPS on. Maybe I should turn around and head back. Then I asked myself why? I wasn’t going to drive myself into the ocean. So I kept driving and it felt good. When I did have to turn around and head back home, I noticed I was feeling a little bit resentful. BUT I WANNA KEEP GOING. Will do some more soul searching to figure that one out.

In other news, I saw Randy from the show Say Yes to the Dress today while out and about on my adventures. It reminded me of how I want to be a starlet. Tehe.

ciao fluffanuttahs,

<3 Lo

 

Real World Conversation

Write a post inspired by a real-world conversation. Day 12.

I could get snarky and write a conversation I’ve had about MTV’s The Real World. Or I could write a song review of Matchbox 20′s hit “Real World.” The truth is I don’t really remember any notable conversations as of late. The last conversation I had was me explaining to my roommate what happened in the two Arthur episodes I watched while I was on the treadmill today. It wasn’t even really a conversation as much as it was me just talking at her about how Arthur was being a real jerk to Sue Ellen over the yak hair sweater she received from her pen pal in the Himalayas. The changed the animation and a lot of the voices. And Arthur’s has become a real sassafras*. At first it seemed unbearable but after a few minutes the show picked up and it was pretty funny. It served as my tether to the treadmill. 

***

Moving away from my horrible attempt at the Writing 101 prompt, I’m excited to go home for the weekend. I miss my mom and my cats. I also miss eating real food. I’ve been making the same salad wrap every day for three weeks. It’s delicious but I’m very hungry. Now accepting donations to the Feed Lo Kirby Something Other Than 75 cent Chef Boyardi Beef Ravioli Although It’s Delicious but Very High in Sodium Fund. 

I’ve been interviewing a lot this week which is great because I just finished the second season of Orange is the New Black. Real divine intervention there. There’s only so much sitting on the couch and swatting away fruit flies one girl can do. I’m not sure of the origin of the fruit flies. They’re still an issue. More on that as it develops. 

Any plans for the 4th of July? People keep asking me but since moving I’ve been on a “one day at a time” schedule. Which pair of shorts (out of the two I own) will I wear today? I’m running low on toilet paper…should I hold it in? Should I have the salad wrap or the salad wrap? I think the flies are here because they saw the vacancy in my cupboards.

That’s changing soon though. Say prayers for me and stuff.

Ciao gigglebutts.

<3 Lo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(*I’m aware this is not what this word means. I like it anyways.)

Size Matters?

Tell us about the home where you lived when you were twelve. Which town, city, or country? Was it a house or an apartment? A boarding school or foster home? An airstream or an RV? Who lived there with you?

DAY ELEVEN.

When I was twelve I was the same weight I am now and a foot shorter. I drank 6 cokes and ate 2 hot pockets every day followed by a couple handfuls of chips. Everyday I would hike it home from the bus stop. If my mom forgot to leave the door unlocked, I would stand on the steps and ring the doorbell for 45 minutes as my mother vacuumed the top of the stairs, which I knew because I could see her in the arch window on the door. The boys on my street would sit on the side of the road and watch as I stared at the door waiting for my mother to never realize I was outside. I’d resort to walking around to the back porch and stand there pressing myself to the back door until my mother walked by and my blubbery little shadow scared the shit out of her. “JESUS! Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?!”

I DON’T KNOW, MOM. I DIDN’T THINK OF THAT.

Mom, Dad, brother and Lolo. We moved from our house in Ohio into a smaller house on Cape Cod. I started the second grade there when I was 7 and moved out when I was 24. To this day it has never really felt like home. Even now, when I go back to visit, it doesn’t resonate as a nostalgic place where I spent most my life. I love being with my mom and my kitties but the physical house has never and still doesn’t register in my “this is a very significant place for you” section of my brain.

Even if it my house isn’t a grand symbol to me, it still was there to let my fleshy little Weathervane/Delia’s wearing body in.

 

CIAO

<3 Lo

 

 

Nana Don’t Destroy My Sweater

Day 9 of Writing 101. 

A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene.

No. You leave Nana and her sweater alone. Stop crying over it. I’m sorry you knitted a sweater for your ferret, Julian, but he’s gone now. He packed his little suitcase and got on a little bus and moved in with his little mother because he was sick of your little sweaters. Let Nana enjoy her sweater-knitting. That little sweater is for Mr. Crackers, her little Parakeet. Sure, it’s more of a vest so his wings can fit in it, but that’s none of your business anyways. Goddammit Marc, pull yourself together. You’re embarrassing Glenda. I know you’ve been dating for two years and you think it’s comfortable and you can both be yourselves around each other but come on, you can’t cry every. single. time. you see a little sweater! I mean, you guys couldn’t even go shopping her sister’s baby shower together without you disrupting the peace in Baby Gap. Let’s get you in some therapy at least. Work through your issues so that maybe one day you can see a little sweater or knit little sweater for a new little ferret friend. You can do it, Marc. Me, Nana, Mr. Crackers, and even little Julian..out there…somewhere, believe in you. Godspeed.

FIN.

Okay kids! Thanks for reading. Follow me on Twitter for more weird things I say! @LOLOVONK !

ciao butterfingers, 

<3 Lo

Well The Way I See It

I’m on Day 8 of Writing 101.

Go to a local café, park, or public place and report on what you see. Get detailed: leave no nuance behind.

The thing is……. I didn’t go outside today. Yesterday I went to an hour-long “Brazilian Booty/Ripped Abs” workout class. I wish I could say the hardest part about it was spelling Brazilian correct on the first try but I was bed ridden for a good portion of the morning and sat on the couch all afternoon. The only time I got up was to nuke a Tyson chicken patty. Girl’s gotta keep up on her nutrition.

In other news, I’m sure this post would have actually answered the Writing 101 prompt had I gone to the Market Basket (read: cheap, semi-shitty food maybe? Still great though). I’m running out of food options but these toasted buns could not make it to the car or walk around a store for 20 minutes. Activia is on sale this week so I guess I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to make smoothies that really do hold up to their cleanse promise. I gained a lot of weight after my dad died about two years ago and I’ve finally realized you can’t stay the same size sitting at a desk 8 hours a day and then 5 hours on the couch and then 10 hours in bed. Who knew? I’m getting back on track by trying something called “moving.” Details to follow. Today doesn’t count.

My sleep schedule is completely ruined as I’ve been getting up around 10-11am and going to bed somewhere between 2-3am. This is horrible because I require 9 hours MINIMUM. Preferred 10-14 hours. As you can see this poses quite the problem. The bags under my eyes could hold loose change.

It’s 2am now, better go scour some websites and play Candy Crush for the next hour!

ciao smellybutts,

<3 Lo

P.S. Please follow on Twitter! I post all jokes and I swear they are great or good or maybe just okay sometimes. @LOLOVONK  ! You can even try before you buy! Look to the right of my page and you’ll see a couple of my recent tweets!

 

Contrast

Write a post based on the contrast between two things — whether people, objects, emotions, places, or something else.

Something that’s been an affliction as of recently is the fact that it’s gone from 50 degrees to 90 degrees in about a 2 week span.

Compare/Contrast: I was nice and cool but now I’m hot as fuck.

The twist to the Day 7 Writing 101 Challenge was to respond to this prompt with dialogue but I’m cranky because my calves are sweating.

In the early stages of getting to know someone, I usually ask questions like, Where are you from? What did you study in school and why? What’s your dream job? and Would you rather be hot or cold?

I like to think it tells me a lot about a person on how they answer that question. With no scientific merit whatsoever, I feel like I get an insight into your dark little soul AND if we’d get along in a car ride.

I’m a coldy. I rather be cold and pile on 3 million blankets. My irish skin flushes and starts to burn when I’m in a room set above 68 degrees. When driving in wintertime I’ll jack the heat up to get warm fast but then on with the AC. I can’t do the dry heat coming out of the vents. My lips instantly chap and my skin wrinkles.

In the cold the air is crisp and I don’t look like an unused matchstick (because the head is red, GET IT?!).

Thinking about sweating makes me itchy. Maybe I’m one of those people who are allergic to their own sweat. Or maybe it’s a fear of being an over-sweating in high school and never wanted to raise my arms so everyone could see my giant sweat stains.

So, which do you prefer?

Hot or cold?

***

ciao

<3 Lo

PS. Please follow on Twitter @LoloVonK for daily jokes you probably shouldn’t share with mom (my mom not yours).

Interesting People

Who’s the most interesting person (or people) you’ve met this year?

Day 6 of the Writing 101 challenge which I’ve so far neglected like my Tamagotchi cat, Whiskers. 

It’s halfway through 2014 and I’ve made a lot of big changes in my life. New apartment, new job, switched from diapers to Pull-Ups. 

To answer the question, the first person to pop up for me I technically met in 2013. SO now that that’s scrapped, the second person or people I think of are all of my neighbors in the apartment building complex I live in. There are about 10 townhouses with 8-10 individual apartments inside each. From walking around in the parking lot to existing in my room, I have a weird Polaroid-type concept of each person that shares the same general space as me.

There are the people who bang things around upstairs at 1:30 in the morning (why? they are elderly, what are they doing up there?), the people who let their smalls children run around the parking lot unsupervised (WATCH OUT FOR THAT CAR! and I don’t even like kids, yeesh), and the tenants that take everyone else’s mail (I really wanted those China Palace coupons). Everyone is either very friendly and willing to stop to chat or they will avoid eye-contact with you and slam their doors behind them. 

I love living here and I’ve made it a sick game of making up backstories for everyone I come in contact with. Some of my predictions have been true, making the game more addictive. 

I WONDER WHAT THEY THINK MY BACKSTORY IS?!

ciao,

<3 Lo

A Letter I Found

But not really.

Day 5 Blog Challenge is supposed to be a story about finding a letter that means a lot to you and you wish you could return it to the person to whom it’s addressed.

I love reading fiction but it’s something that I just never had the drive to pursue. I used to write stories when I was little but I’d always leave them unfinished because at an early age I was able to recognize my shortcomings. Hehe.

If I had found a letter, I know it would be addressed to Ms. Hamrietta McTrufflesnout. The contents of the letter would be the date and time for her hearing at the slaughterhouse. Real “Pink is the New Orange” type stuff. It wouldn’t state what exactly her crime was, but by the tone of the letter it would seem that if she didn’t show up to her hearing then she would be hunted down and brought in immediately. If she did show up at the correct date and time, then maybe she’d be able to please her case and move on to her normal oinky lifestyle.

I think that’s worth finding and getting to her, right?

 

 

Loss

Day Four of the Writing101 Challenge.

Write about a loss. Something or someone who isn’t in your life any longer.

For this question I didn’t want to talk about obvious loss like death, moving,  graduating from school, or that time I got my wisdom teeth out and lost all sensation in my bottom lip for a year. Tehe. Loss doesn’t have to be bad at all.

One thing that I don’t have in my life any longer (or at least most of the time) is the overbearing feeling of caring what other people think of me or being embarrassed of myself. That isn’t to say I don’t have days where I feel uncomfortable in my own skin or feel a bit anxious around others. I think that happens to everyone. BUT being embarrassed to speak up for yourself or to worry if others will like you and/or your creative work is bullshit. Just do what you like. That goes without saying if you’re hurting others and being an all around asshole, then cut that shit out, but other than that YOU DO YOU BABY.

I’ve always been incredibly shy and afraid of people thinking my opinions were stupid. Maybe my opinions were stupid but that doesn’t make them any less valid or worthy of sharing. I grew up desperately avoiding the possibility of ever being wrong. Instead of trying and failing, I wouldn’t even try. Horrible mistake. It’s like in Finding Nemo when Dory advises Marlin about how he smothers Nemo.

“Well, you can’t never let anything happen to him, then nothing would ever happen to him.”

It sounds like what I was doing to myself. Impeding my own growth by trying to protect myself. My fears were based on situations that were probably never going to happen, and if they did, the damage would only last a few seconds.

What’s the big deal? Am I going to be right ALL THE TIME? Absolutely not. In fact, I’m usually wrong about a lot of things but at least it’s the quickest way for me to learn.

*cracks knuckles*

SO, in conclusion, don’t ever feel embarrassed about yourself. Whether it’s something you tried and failed at or something you did that didn’t turn out the way you thought it would.

Just relax. It doesn’t matter.

If someone judges you or makes you feel inferior about something you tried, then they are dealing with something deeper than what you’re doing. Constructive criticism is a wonderful tool but if it’s criticism for the sake of criticizing- don’t take it as the indisputable truth. In any case, as my dear mother RuPaul says “Your opinion of me is none of my business.”

Be wrong, feel silly, and do what you feel is fulfilling and true for you. There are great lessons in those moments.

images

K bye my loveducks.

<3 Lo

**P.S. Please follow me on Twitter, @LoloVonK ! **

The Three Most Important Songs

Crapcakes this is a hard question. Day 3 of the Writing 101 prompt. 

What are the 3 most important songs to me and what do they mean to you?

I have a list in my phone of the songs I LOVE and are go-to songs for when I feel great or what I feel like shit. But thinking about what songs are most important to me is difficult. I might even come back and edit this post if I remember a song that’s significant.

1) Losing My Religion, R.E.M- This song has always been a favorite of my mom and I. I think of her when I hear it, but it has a deeper meaning for me. Before I knew she loved it, I heard it and thought it was a perfect song. I was a sensitive kid and it transferred over to being a sensitive teenager which transferred over to me being a sensitive, semi-functional pre-adult. I would say young adult but I found a couple white hairs the other day. I’ve been overdramatic and lovesick since the 1st grade and this song makes me flap my arms around and also crumble with sadness, which to me, is a perfect combination. 

2) Aerith’s Theme, Nobuo Uematsu- This song is the reason I begged for the violin I never played once I got it. My brother played the Final Fantasy games and I loved watching. I was first taken with Tifa’s theme in FFVII. As KaZaA and LimeWire infected our family GateWay moo-moo computer, I tried downloading Tifa’s theme and ended up getting the orchestrated version off the Advent Children soundtrack. Now that I had that song riddled with malware, I decided to downloaded ALL the songs off the Advent Children soundtrack. I heard Aerith’s Theme and it was game over. *silently stares at you* GET IT?! *snorts*. Sorry. But this song is nothing short of an emotional and spiritual experience. There’s a sweet sadness to it but also a crazy build that, as cliche as it sounds, makes my chest swell as the song grows. It also brought one of my great friends and I together. Sophomore year of college I had gone to the aquarium and taken video of all the fish and a big turtle. Back when I knew how to manipulate video on a PC, I edited the footage together and added Aerith’s Theme as the background music. I posted it to Facebook and my friend saw it (I’m not sure how, I think it was through a mutual friend and back then you friended EVERYONE on Facebook, regardless if you knew them or not). We started talking about our mutual love and Nobuo Uematsu and here we are, BUDS five years later. So, great song 143.

And yes, if you were wondering, I did get the game version of Tifa’s theme AND a piano version, for good measure. 

3) Crap, I don’t know! I only get 3? How about 5? Maybe 10? Fine, thanks for the Sophie’s Choice here, Daily Post.

The official # 3…

3) The Promise, When in Rome- This is a wildcard that may get changed if I realize I’ve made a horrible mistake. This is one of those songs that if I hear it at a restaurant or in a bar, I want to climb on a table and tell everyone to shut up because I want to hear it and cry. I love 80s pop songs along the same vein, e.g. Hold Me Now by the Thompson Twins and Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears, but this is the king of them all. I first heard it at the end of Napoleon Dynamite and I was shocked I hadn’t heard of it before then. Again, it’s sad yet has an upbeat, arm flailing, chest clenching rhythm. Every time I hear it, I get emotional and what to play it 300 more times. It’s on hear because god dammit, I love it, and that makes it important enough.

 

Honorable Mentions:

You Turn Me On, Joni Mitchell- I love singing to this song. It’s breezy and goes by way too quickly that I have to play it a few times in row to feel satisfied. 

The Twin Peaks Theme Song, Angelo Badalamenti- Over the winter I watched Twin Peaks for the first time. It’s adhered itself to my soul. 

 

I’m interested in seeing what other participants of Writing 101 say. Time to do some snooping on your blogs.

ciao, creepy crullers.

<3 Lo

PS. Please follow me on Twitter! I’m trying to get accepted on a humor website and I need 18 more followers to qualify! @LoloVonK.