An Open Letter to Potential Suitors...

I decided to write this letter to all potential suitors, which could be viewed as my criteria or as a warning - your choice. By no means do I want a guy who is perfect on paper, just someone who, even with all his imperfections, is perfect for me.

Dear Boy,

What do I want in a guy? Well, if you are reading this then you are just as curious as I am. I should let you know up front, I am complex and confusing but I think I am worth it. However, you get to be the judge of that and you will be able to formulate your own opinion after reading this letter.

You must love watching movies (often times they are animated), taking risks, kissing in cars, and decorating for the holidays. No specific weight, hair color, or political affiliation required but would prefer a warm spirited non racist who is taller than me. Cynics, Critics, Pessimists, and "fuddy duddies" need not apply. Any similarity in look, mind set, or fashion sense to Anderson Cooper, Hugh Jackman, Aladdin, or Justin Timberlake wholeheartedly welcomed. I am dubious of politicians, felons and lawyers but don't want to rule them out entirely. Must be tolerant of cracking knuckles, tears when I'm happy and sad, Jason Mraz, and sleeping in late when given the option. I appreciate a man who isn't afraid to sing in the car, that remembers the insignificant details, and hugs me like there is no tomorrow. A man in a suit is attractive, but a man with strong convictions on any subject is beyond sexy.

I have learned that making plans just gives God a reason to laugh at you. I pray before I go to bed, make a mean deviled egg, and play the piano when I am stressed out. I was picked on in grade school, a wallflower in high school, and the center of attention in college. If you can handle that, you can handle anything.

I have odd scars , love handles, and a preternatural love of autumn. I once saw an elderly couple holding hands at the grocery store, and it made me smile the rest of the day. I fidget for at least a half hour before I fall asleep, I get sick when I see someone bleeding from the mouth, and think Beauty & The Beast is one of the greatest films of all time. All I want are rabbit kisses in the morning, peanut butter & jelly sandwiches shaped like a heart, and to make you smile until it hurts.

That's it, that's all.

Kailey

Even Ugly Dolls Need Love

I have a penchant for being attracted to ugly things. Doesn't matter what it is, if it's ugly I will love it. The first real example is a dog I had named Murphy. He was, for lack of a better word, hideous. The shelter had found him on the side of a road and he was so matted that they had to completely take all his hair off. He had to wear sweaters in the summer so his poor doggy skin wouldn't get sunburnt and when you pet him it felt like you were petting a warm ballsac. Did I mention he farted? A lot.

Turns out grandma couldn't handle Murphy and one day while I was at work she dropped him off at the shelter. Imagine my surprise when I came home to find no ugly ballsac dog to greet me! That was the first time I was ever mad at my grandma.

I told you that story for two reasons: one, because I still miss that dog and this is part of the healing process and two, it confirms that I am bat shit crazy.

Fast forward a few years....

My new obsession is going to garage sales to see all the beautiful crap people are trying to make money off of. Nine times out of ten the stuff is beyond repair or just plain useless, but if you look hard enough you find a gem or two hiding in crap. My sister and I (along with her friend who was unaware of my craziness) decided to go to the Omaha Community Playhouse prop sale to see what fun stuff we could find. Most of it was junk, but there were some cool paintings and vintage furniture that would complement a crazy cat lady's house.

While we were walking through the aisles we found a shelf that was marked "Toys: 50 cents each" and on it were stuffed animals that looked like they came from the Island of Misfit Toys. We glossed over the items and were about to call it a day when I saw a head poking out of the pile with only monk like ring of hair on it. I immediately grabbed it out of the pile and what I saw when it emerged was beyond my wildest dreams. It was the creepiest doll I had ever seen.

The doll was dressed in a pink cloth that resembled a toga, and it was clear that he used to be a clown but hard times washed away all the joy. After the initial shock wore off, I collected my thoughts and immediately searched for two quarters.

"You're not actually going to buy that, are you?" my sister questioned.

"Well of course I'm going to buy it, look how creepy he is!" I exclaimed

"That doesn't mean you have to buy it"

"....well....yes it does?"

Little sisters just don't get it. I grabbed my new treasure and headed over to the cashier, but not before picking out a new wicker sleigh for my mom because Cheryl loooves wicker. I walked up and the elderly lady at the register asked what I was purchasing for the day. "One sleigh and two creepy dolls please!" I could hardly contain my excitement. I gave the lady my money and away I went with my treasures. Finally, my precious and I were together.

When I got back to work I immediately whipped him out and tried to come up with a name. The usual creepster names came to mind: Chester, Sid, Larry, and Vladimir, but nothing seemed to fit. Then it hit me: Felipe! Not only does it sound exotic, but it rhymes with creep. Felipe the Creep was born anew, so now it was time to show him off. The general reaction to Felipe was less than welcoming, and the more he stared at you the more you realized he was gazing into your soul. Naturally I had to capitalize on this and had him keep an eye on Cheryl at work.

I plan on advertising Felipe's services if you need a special guest for a birthday party or bar mitzvah, which will come in handy if you hate your kid. Until then, sleep with one eye open!

Black Moses in the Hizzy!

Last weekend my brother Kelly and I embarked on a journey to the mountains of Denver, Colorado. There were so many memories made on the trip, thanks to good music, great friends, and a lot of booze. Of all the new friends I met on this trip though, Dennis Booker stands above the crowd. No, I'm not talking about Dennis Booker from 21 Jump Street; Im talking about Dennis Booker, CEO of D&D Transportation.




In order to adequately sing the praises of Mr. Booker we need to travel back in time to Friday evening after the concert. We were all still on a concert high and decided to go to a local watering hole to quench our insatiable thirst and continue our streak of bad decisions being made. As the night went on people slowly started to sneak out and head home, one of them being JC. He decided it was time to go and Mitch begrudingly agreed, but not before making it clear that he was not happy. The boys start walking and decide that a cab would be the best way of getting back to the apartment we were staying at so they starting looking up and down the road for their chariot. As they are walking down the street they see a well dressed man standing by an Escalade. The man tells them to 'get in' and opens the door to the Escalade. Mitch was a little hesitant about this situation but before he could voice his concerns JC had already hopped in and was ready to go. They tell Dennis where they are heading and start talking about where they are from and what brought them to Denver. Dennis must have taken a liking to these boys because he offers them a Coors Light out of the cooler he has packed away in the Escalade. These aren't just any Coors Light cans though, they are mini Coors!

Aren't they cute?

JC was so impressed by the awesomeness that is DB that he arranged for him to pick us up on Saturday for the 2nd Dispatch concert we were all attending.

Saturday:

I was still feeling the repercussions of the night before so all I wanted to do was curl up in bed and watch the trial for Caylee Anthony's mom (what a psycho). Shaina somehow convinced me to go to the concert so I threw on some clothes and headed down to the lobby to meet up with the rest of the group. I was greeted by Dennis who told us to bring some beer and hop in....sold. He had a mix CD that he made, which could have been confused for NOW 342 because there were some hot jams on it. Our fan favorite was Wiz Khalifa's Black and Yellow, which Dennis played as loud as he could while we drove down the interstate to Red Rocks. When we arrived at Red Rocks there are about a half dozens entrances for cars and limos to drop off and pick up people. Apparently Dennis had made such an impression on the Red Rocks employees that they all just let him pass through without checking out tickets or asking questions. As he was driving through the sea of people he proclaimed, 'Im the Black Moses, get out of the way!". Sure enough, people did.

When we got dropped off we set up a game plan to have him bring us back in a limo because there were going to be 8 additional friends that were meeting us there and needed a ride home. The show ended and we went out to meet up with Dennis and hop in our limo. When we find him we notice that he is still driving the Escalade, wuh oh. Apparently another group said they would pay more to take the limo so they got whisked away and we were left with 12 people to fit into a 7 person Escalade. You would think that we would just arrange for another company to come pick us up, but no way Jose- we were fitting in that damn Escalade. People were sitting on laps, in the trunk, and in the aisle on a very uncomfortable cooler. Good thing there is always a massive traffic jam after concerts because who wouldn't want to stay packed in like this?

Dennis made it all better by buying us Skol vodka and ice cream sandwiches, which we all ate immediately. Never underestimate the power of an ice cream sandwich to calm the nerves of a drunk 20something after a concert. We listened to the music at full blast, which is not as enjoyable when you have someone's elbow in your side and a styrofoam cooler on your lap, but it was still one of the best memories of the trip. We finally made it back to the hotel where Molly, Shaina, and I left to go to bed. The boys stayed with Dennis though and went to the bars to continue the good times. If you are ever in the Denver area and need a driver who will make you laugh, make you question your decisions at times, and buy you ice cream sandwiches then give Dennis a call.

18 Weeks Ago this seemed like a good idea...

I just completed my first half marathon today! It is a great feeling, minus the searing pain coming from my waist down. Everyone I have talked to has been asking me: "How was it?" and "How do you feel?". I think that documenting each mile is the best way to adequately describe the roller coaster of emotions I went through this fine Sunday morning.

5:30am: Alarm goes off, immediate reaction is excitement followed by the urge to hit the snooze button once.

7:00am: race start time. Am I standing in line eagerly awaiting my turn to cross the start line? No. I am scrambling to find a parking spot because I ended up hitting the snooze button 3 times instead of once.

7:33am: officially started the race. Luckily there were 8000 runners so no one had to know that I had just gotten there in time to start.

Mile 1: Feeling great! Even though iPods were discouraged, I brought mine anyway. I was not about to spend 13.1 miles listening to myself breath.

Mile 2: Still feeling awesome! Im keeping up with the 2:00 pacer, if I can just stay with her I will be set!

Mile 3: Legs are starting to feel the burn, but I keep running. I toyed with the idea of running one mile, walking the next and so one, but Im feeling too good to slow down now.

Mile 4: Still running - wanted to slow down but "Push It" by Static X came on my iPod and its physically impossible to walk through this song.

Mile 5: Elvis just cheered me on, sweet. I decided to slow it down which is really hard to do when so many people are running past you. 2:15 pacer just passed me, crap.

Mile 6: My shoes are awesome, one of the best purchases I have made in a long time (Nike FreeRun+). My feet hardly hurt!! Saw a sign that said "Run! Zombies!". So I did.

Mile 7: I made a really lame attempt to drink my water as I ran past the group handing it out. Good thing I have a DriFit shirt on otherwise this would be awkward. Ok I need to walk.

Mile 8: Back to walking, toes starting to cramp. 2:30 pacer just passed me.

Mile 9: A man dressed as a pregnant nun just helped direct us across a busy street, sweet. I am amazed and grateful for all the spectators along the route, they really helped push me out of my mental blocks.

Mile 10: My hands are swelling up. I KNEW I should have drank more Gatorade before the race, shit. Everyone loves a girl with sausage fingers right? There is a lady playing air guitar to Bob Seger's "Hollywood Nights" on the side of the road so I better run the last half of this mile.

Mile 11: I am walking. Slowly. I may or may not have broke both of my ankles, at least thats how it feels. These shoes are the worst purchase I have ever made, might as well have run barefoot. 3:00 pacer just passed me, thats it- now Im pissed.

Mile 12: Oh God Im still running? Surprisingly it hurts less if I run, I think because my body is still trying to catch up to my brain. At least I can see the stadium.

Mile 13: Finally, the final mile!!!! Hands are swollen, face is sun burnt (totally forgot the sunscreen), and my feet are either cramping or broken. We are now running alongside the marathoners, which makes me realize they just ran twice as far in the same amount of time. Amazing athletes.

Finish: I start alongside the stadium and just go into a dead sprint. Not because I wanted to get a good time, but because I wanted the banana and gatorade waiting for me at the end of the line. I cross the finish line at the 50 yard line in Memorial and cant help but yell out a resounding 'FUCK YEAH". I grab my medal and food and begin the long process of calming my body down.

Now: There are ice bags on my feet, but they say I will live. I had so much fun training for this race, but Im so glad its over.