Thursday, April 26, 2012

For the lady who's candy I wasn't able to open...

In your honor, I've painted you the creepiest portrait ever. It's like when tattoo artists do portraits and they are gross and distorted and the teeth always turn out weird, only it's from my computer and not permanently inked on your body.

Seriously... what's with that gimpy hand? And surely your forearm doesn't bend at places other than the elbow... 

Either way it's a gift to say sorry I couldn't fix your problem. 

Monday, April 23, 2012

Confessions of a lonely would/should be spinster

Sometimes I look at Aaron and I think, "where would I be without him?"

Not in the, "we're desperately in love and I can't imagine a life apart from him and he completes me" kind of way (given), but more in the "I never took the time to make friends and now if he leaves me I'm screwed so I better just do what he says and keep him happy so he never realizes I'm barely hanging on socially" kind of way.

My roommate (and friend.... just the one) had a surprise for me the other night about which she was texting Aaron. I'm paranoid and hate surprises and lack the ability too express adequate emotion when presented with gifts, so naturally I was doing all but water boarding Aaron to get the needed information. I didn't know who, what or when, but I knew someone, something, sometime soon was goin down.

If you don't know Aaron then you don't know that he is the weakest weakling when it comes to keeping secrets. He wants soooo badly to tell me things (because he is so madly in love and head over heals for me) that it usually takes no more than a bat of the ole eyelashes. This night however, he was particularly strong. To throw me off the scent he showed me the recipient list of a group text between my family members that was from a few days prior and told me that's who he was texting.

I read the names "Kelsey, Erin, Tyler, Daddy, Mommy" and my immediate thought (and regrettably outwardly expressed) was "ALL MY FRIENDS!"

Then, having realized what I said, I crawled into a deep dark hole of oblivion and never came out.

You know those people who work dead-end jobs and they're convinced that they were born to be famous? And you think... come on.. it's not going to happen? Well I'm like the opposite of that. I'm in this relationship that keeps me happy and fed and sometimes all I can think is, "I know I'm perfectly content and have more than I could ever want... but I'm pretty sure I was born to be a lonely spinster."

I have so much trouble making new friends  it's a wonder I was able to land a boyfriend. It's like straight out of a movie. Picture a classroom of students:

Teacher: Can anyone name the 7 wonders of the world?
Student:  Stonehenge, the Colosseum, the Catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa, the Great Wall of China, Hagia Sophia, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and the fact that Kayla has a boyfriend.

If I outgrow my cat allergy, I'll know it's time to realize my full unpotential (that's a word right?). 

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Every time I come home, this strange phenomenon occurs

It happens when my parents go to sleep, it's getting late, and I realize, they've done it again.

In my home, downstairs alone, we have no fewer than 3 million lamps. On any given night approximately 2 million are on. Before retiring to bed, my parents turn off approximately zero of them. I don't realize it until it's one o clock in the morning and my eyes are burning from staring at a computer screen, and my limbs are too tired to even make it upstairs practically, and my fingers are all broken from typing endlessly, and the only thing I want to do is fall into my bed and pass out.

So I shut the lap top, stand up (in a quasi Quasimodo (see what I did there) fashion) and hobble towards the stairs with squinty eyes and limp fingers. Then I start to look around and that panicky movie music starts to play where there are quick shots to scary things and it's like BUM.... BUM.BUM.BUM. And all I see around me are the 2 million lamps still lit and my dreams of crawling upstairs like the undead are shattered.

Instead my retinas are seared by 2 million blinding light bulbs as I try to find the off switches. And then three hours later all the lamps are off and I finally get upstairs, only to look downstairs and realize I forgot one. And that MIA song come into my head and "ALL I WANNA DO IS (gun shots)". And I'm like "that song finally makes sense." And I'm either imagining shooting myself or Thomas Edison.

So if my parents wake up and find me dead in the morning, they will read this blog post and know that it was their fault.

After I write things like that I think "I hope I don't really die tonight because then I will have gone out while nonchalantly joking about killing Thomas Edison and that's in bad taste." Also my last words won't have been inspiring, but instead "Did you see the latest Star Trek movie?"

Come on Kayla. Say more important things.

Oh and here are the lamps

Also, when I finally got to bed, my dad had hid a very loudly ticking clock under my bed.
Does anybody else have trouble determining if their dad is joking with them or threatening them?

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Sometimes I think about death

and when I do, I think about what my last moments will be like. 
Will I be pensive? Regretful? At peace? 

At this point I don't really care I just hope I don't have some urgent need to tell Aaron that "I never loved Eugene Levy." Because chances are I will die before I get it all out and all he will hear is "I never loved you...." The following is a list of phrases that I hope my 90 year old self doesn't see as extremely important to utter before dying:

"I never loved you.........kuleles" 
"I never loved you.........rology"
"I never loved you.........catan Peninsula"
"I never loved you.........NICEF"
"I always regretted our mar...........ijuana habit" (this is a stretch... obviously I won't regret our marijuana habit, I just don't want him to think I was going to say marriage)
"I hid the body..... builders gym membership card and said you lost it so I wouldn't feel guilty for not exercising."

What I'm realizing, is that I need to come up with a list of inspiring and thought provoking phrases to say constantly while on my death bed. I don't want to let my guard down for a second and have my last words accidentally be an unintelligent poop joke (though if we're honest, this is most likely). What I think will probably happen, is that due to my sarcasm, people will struggle to figure out whether or not I'm actually dying. 

"Kayla are you dying?"
"Yeah... I'm dying." (said with involuntary eye roll as I struggle to control my body movements)
"Wait... so... you are dying?"
"Yeah, I'm toooootally dying." 
"I'm sorry, I'm really not sure if you are dying or not...."
"I never loved you......." (yule logs)
"I think she's gone. And she never loved me."

If nothing else, I hope that in death, I'm still making 'em laugh like Bill Murray.