So I work in a cafe. A ladygay (based on her appearance and my advanced gaydar) walks in.
She compliments my hair.
My response is "Thanks so much, I try really really hard."
To which she says "Really?! Well it looks really, really good."
Well adorable ladygay, thank you for continuing to speak words to me. I am sorry that I channel the spirit of a overcooked chicken nugget.
Mondays man.
Monday, Monday Monday.
-Tegan and Sara. Wonder humans.
The end.
Kait
Monday, July 21, 2014
Monday, July 14, 2014
Booty Spandex and Street Harassment
HI!
So for those of you who don't know (most of you probably) I've started doing stand up at pH comedy club. Because the people are funny and I'm funny and it's a free way to perform and see a show. It's also exposed me to what a homophobic, sexist, bro-fest comedy can be. So I've begun to think of this as a platform for my feminist/gay agenda. So expect preachy, but let me know if it gets unrelatable.
Also, this is raunchy and inappropriate. So no one forward this to grandma to prove that I am working in my field. Thanks.
Enjoy.
So BIG NEWS guys. This week I got my first pair of compression shorts. My bike seat and I have never felt closer. It's really taken our relationship to the next level.
It's also thrown me into the gauntlet of street harassment my straight looking friends receive on a daily basis. I was working out on the beloved lake shore trail I passed these two white dudes sitting on a bench. As I approached them one of the guys said "Hi" so I said "Hey, cool bike." Naturally his response was, "Look at dat ass, MMmmmmm sexy, I'd lick that, got enough to go around?"
Does that ever work? Has anyone ever been like "Fuck yeah, lets do this, whip it out and show me what we're workin' with." I'm going to start doing that. Because if you think you can make me uncomfortable by bringing attention to my sexy ass in my tight pants then you have another thing coming. I'm a dancer. I spend hours every day in a leotard and I know my ass looks good. Your shouting it at me validates nothing.
With that said, I hear you bench dudes of the lake shore trail. I too appreciate the sexy ladies. Suns out, guns out, buns out, I am in favor of all of this. But I have more tact than you. For example, when I see see an attractive lady out running or at a bar or at the library, instead of harassing her I covertly stare at her until she notices me. At which point I quickly look away and we never see each other again.
(I'm making a joke about lesbian flirting. It's cool, you can laugh)
And I am still absolutely confident that I get laid more often then those guys on the bench.
So for those of you who don't know (most of you probably) I've started doing stand up at pH comedy club. Because the people are funny and I'm funny and it's a free way to perform and see a show. It's also exposed me to what a homophobic, sexist, bro-fest comedy can be. So I've begun to think of this as a platform for my feminist/gay agenda. So expect preachy, but let me know if it gets unrelatable.
Also, this is raunchy and inappropriate. So no one forward this to grandma to prove that I am working in my field. Thanks.
Enjoy.
So BIG NEWS guys. This week I got my first pair of compression shorts. My bike seat and I have never felt closer. It's really taken our relationship to the next level.
It's also thrown me into the gauntlet of street harassment my straight looking friends receive on a daily basis. I was working out on the beloved lake shore trail I passed these two white dudes sitting on a bench. As I approached them one of the guys said "Hi" so I said "Hey, cool bike." Naturally his response was, "Look at dat ass, MMmmmmm sexy, I'd lick that, got enough to go around?"
Does that ever work? Has anyone ever been like "Fuck yeah, lets do this, whip it out and show me what we're workin' with." I'm going to start doing that. Because if you think you can make me uncomfortable by bringing attention to my sexy ass in my tight pants then you have another thing coming. I'm a dancer. I spend hours every day in a leotard and I know my ass looks good. Your shouting it at me validates nothing.
With that said, I hear you bench dudes of the lake shore trail. I too appreciate the sexy ladies. Suns out, guns out, buns out, I am in favor of all of this. But I have more tact than you. For example, when I see see an attractive lady out running or at a bar or at the library, instead of harassing her I covertly stare at her until she notices me. At which point I quickly look away and we never see each other again.
(I'm making a joke about lesbian flirting. It's cool, you can laugh)
And I am still absolutely confident that I get laid more often then those guys on the bench.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Week 2
Ayee
My blog is quickly devolving into public reflections of my life with no greater purpose. I'll work on remedying that.
But for now
This was the first week back in dance classes! My butt place and surrounding places are so sore I haven't left this chair in 2 days except to bike to the south loop and back to work an 8 hour shift at 5 am. Twice. And then I went shopping and mailed some stuff. And I have plans to run if my legs and butt places will allow it. But thrilled to pieces to be back at it.
Also, giving this whole stand up thing another go. Basically I just recap my blog entries from that time when I was witty and political. And all the guys there are all "no homo" and "bangin' pussy" (direct quote) so I have a new feminist agenda to keep me busy.
Thirdly: i finally got around to switching to an Apple iPod. i can't say i love iTunes. But iDo like their unconventional capitalization rules. The only CD I have gotten on there is a Ke$ha/Tegan and Sara mash up. Unrivaled variety.
Fourthly: I ate an entire jar of peanut butter in 12 days.
Fifthly: Soon I will write about my new found coffee snobbery and the art that is coffee culture. Or maybe an obscure movie review. Or my adventures in Andersonville. Regardless, it will be a blog worth reading. Unlike this one, which has been a general downward comparison benchmark. Congrats for making it this far.
Have a lovely, albeit cloudy, rest of your Saturday,
Kait
My blog is quickly devolving into public reflections of my life with no greater purpose. I'll work on remedying that.
But for now
This was the first week back in dance classes! My butt place and surrounding places are so sore I haven't left this chair in 2 days except to bike to the south loop and back to work an 8 hour shift at 5 am. Twice. And then I went shopping and mailed some stuff. And I have plans to run if my legs and butt places will allow it. But thrilled to pieces to be back at it.
Also, giving this whole stand up thing another go. Basically I just recap my blog entries from that time when I was witty and political. And all the guys there are all "no homo" and "bangin' pussy" (direct quote) so I have a new feminist agenda to keep me busy.
Thirdly: i finally got around to switching to an Apple iPod. i can't say i love iTunes. But iDo like their unconventional capitalization rules. The only CD I have gotten on there is a Ke$ha/Tegan and Sara mash up. Unrivaled variety.
Fourthly: I ate an entire jar of peanut butter in 12 days.
Fifthly: Soon I will write about my new found coffee snobbery and the art that is coffee culture. Or maybe an obscure movie review. Or my adventures in Andersonville. Regardless, it will be a blog worth reading. Unlike this one, which has been a general downward comparison benchmark. Congrats for making it this far.
Have a lovely, albeit cloudy, rest of your Saturday,
Kait
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Anticipated Floundering.
A Story:
Yesterday my roommates and I got home from our 4th of July festivities roundabout 12am. As Brittany and I climbed upstairs we discussed the woes of waking up before 6 to get to work while trying to maintain a social life. When we reached our place, we unlocked the door, jiggled the handle, and failed to gain entry. After about 5 minutes of fussing with it, we thought maybe there is a problem and we need to call the landlord. (Meanwhile, our next door neighbors were watching porn on their big screen tv with the window wiiiiiide open) While Brit called the building super, I tried to spiderman up the front of our building to break in through my window. After a few failed trials I decided not to risk falling to my death and went around back to try to open our back door. Would have gotten in had it not been for the chain slide lock that we had secured before we left for the day. Rather than give up so easily, I decided to see if I could finagle the thing and open the door. Following no less than 5 squished biceps and angry kicking of the doorknob, I stomped out to the back yard. From there I could hear our other (not the porn ones. though I'm sure they would have been happy to help) neighbors having a 4th of July get together on their back porch. So I crashed that, quickly introduced myself, and asked if they had a screw driver so I could try to break into my apartment. They gave me one but I couldn't get enough torque behind it. So (head literally hung in shame, frustration, and exhaustion) I went back to return the philips head and asked if they had a power drill. They did not. BUT their friend had bolt cutters. And he (lord and savior) left his party for a hot second to cut the door chain and finally let us in. Then kissed us all on the cheek and continued his party. I promised to bake them something. Nice guys.
The above story is a fairly accurate representation of my post-grad experience thus far.
A Memoir:
Three months ago when people asked me what my plans were post graduation, I would say "flounder for a bit."
And flounder I have.
Step one was punching 2 new holes in my ear and bleaching the fuck out of my hair. I regret neither.
I'm working a full time job at a coffee shop. It's fast paced, crazy early hours, great staff, and decent tips. It's in the south loop and despite the patrons of the Ohio Street Beach and Navy Pier, my hour bike commute is consistently one of my favorite times of day.
With all the biking, my legs are like fucking tree trunks. If I were the type of person who liked working out at the gym, I would all but destroy the quad pump machine. With the change-up in my types of activity, my body slowly but surely adjusted to a new, more efficient form. I don't really need all the abs I had from dance, but my bike rides get faster every day from my quad overuse. I don't regret it. If I can sleep the extra 5 minutes at 3:30am, I will.
But, as all good things do, floundering time has come to an end. I'm ready (and financially able) to do a little more than make money, drink with friends, and recover from making money and drinking with friends. I've been working for 3 weeks now, have gotten a pay check, and am ready to throw myself at auditioning/networking/killing myself for art.
First on the docket is dance. Drop-ins are pricey, but I'm making myself save enough tips to take class at least twice a week. That's like, 2 nights I can't get drinks or eat out. Fine. But after the past few semesters, I realize just how much I need to dance. So I'm going to get involved in the scene here and see what comes of it. The dream would be to dance for a contemporary/modern company, but for now I'm just itching to get back into classes. I like knowing I'm working towards something greater than keeping a roof over my head and feeding myself. The only thing I'm not looking forward to is getting all those dance muscles back. It will hurt so good.
Another exciting step towards adulthood: I have a new apartment! As my roommates and I have deemed it, it's a "big girl" apartment. The management company actually cleaned before we came and (save for the door) we haven't had any major problems! The best feature of said apartment is that it's in Andersonville. Andersonville is easily one of my top 3 Chicago neighborhoods and it's cool to get away from campus a bit. I forget that families and 30 year olds exist sometimes. Now they're back. The second best feature of said apartment is that I HAVE MY OWN ROOM. Finally. And a closet. My clothes are on hangers. And I have furniture that isn't Rubbermaid. The sense of permanence is so nice. And by nice I mean I've already thought about how I could definitely move it all myself when the time comes, but for now I'm happy to not have to lift a dresser for at least a year.
This afternoon I decorated. It primarily involved ripping Orange is the New Black adds out of this summer's edition of BUST. Because if you can have a picture of Natasha Lyonne seductively biting a screw driver taped to your door, why wouldn't you?
In other news, my mom just left town. She was a super helpful mover and also partied way harder than me. No one is surprised. So much love.
But this grandma needs to go to bed like, right meow. I've gotten a collective 6 hours of sleep over the past 2 nights and I open again tomorrow. I'm not complaining, I love this. But Also, I'm literally losing consciousness right now.
Until next,
Kaitlyn
Yesterday my roommates and I got home from our 4th of July festivities roundabout 12am. As Brittany and I climbed upstairs we discussed the woes of waking up before 6 to get to work while trying to maintain a social life. When we reached our place, we unlocked the door, jiggled the handle, and failed to gain entry. After about 5 minutes of fussing with it, we thought maybe there is a problem and we need to call the landlord. (Meanwhile, our next door neighbors were watching porn on their big screen tv with the window wiiiiiide open) While Brit called the building super, I tried to spiderman up the front of our building to break in through my window. After a few failed trials I decided not to risk falling to my death and went around back to try to open our back door. Would have gotten in had it not been for the chain slide lock that we had secured before we left for the day. Rather than give up so easily, I decided to see if I could finagle the thing and open the door. Following no less than 5 squished biceps and angry kicking of the doorknob, I stomped out to the back yard. From there I could hear our other (not the porn ones. though I'm sure they would have been happy to help) neighbors having a 4th of July get together on their back porch. So I crashed that, quickly introduced myself, and asked if they had a screw driver so I could try to break into my apartment. They gave me one but I couldn't get enough torque behind it. So (head literally hung in shame, frustration, and exhaustion) I went back to return the philips head and asked if they had a power drill. They did not. BUT their friend had bolt cutters. And he (lord and savior) left his party for a hot second to cut the door chain and finally let us in. Then kissed us all on the cheek and continued his party. I promised to bake them something. Nice guys.
The above story is a fairly accurate representation of my post-grad experience thus far.
A Memoir:
Three months ago when people asked me what my plans were post graduation, I would say "flounder for a bit."
And flounder I have.
Step one was punching 2 new holes in my ear and bleaching the fuck out of my hair. I regret neither.
I'm working a full time job at a coffee shop. It's fast paced, crazy early hours, great staff, and decent tips. It's in the south loop and despite the patrons of the Ohio Street Beach and Navy Pier, my hour bike commute is consistently one of my favorite times of day.
With all the biking, my legs are like fucking tree trunks. If I were the type of person who liked working out at the gym, I would all but destroy the quad pump machine. With the change-up in my types of activity, my body slowly but surely adjusted to a new, more efficient form. I don't really need all the abs I had from dance, but my bike rides get faster every day from my quad overuse. I don't regret it. If I can sleep the extra 5 minutes at 3:30am, I will.
But, as all good things do, floundering time has come to an end. I'm ready (and financially able) to do a little more than make money, drink with friends, and recover from making money and drinking with friends. I've been working for 3 weeks now, have gotten a pay check, and am ready to throw myself at auditioning/networking/killing myself for art.
First on the docket is dance. Drop-ins are pricey, but I'm making myself save enough tips to take class at least twice a week. That's like, 2 nights I can't get drinks or eat out. Fine. But after the past few semesters, I realize just how much I need to dance. So I'm going to get involved in the scene here and see what comes of it. The dream would be to dance for a contemporary/modern company, but for now I'm just itching to get back into classes. I like knowing I'm working towards something greater than keeping a roof over my head and feeding myself. The only thing I'm not looking forward to is getting all those dance muscles back. It will hurt so good.
Another exciting step towards adulthood: I have a new apartment! As my roommates and I have deemed it, it's a "big girl" apartment. The management company actually cleaned before we came and (save for the door) we haven't had any major problems! The best feature of said apartment is that it's in Andersonville. Andersonville is easily one of my top 3 Chicago neighborhoods and it's cool to get away from campus a bit. I forget that families and 30 year olds exist sometimes. Now they're back. The second best feature of said apartment is that I HAVE MY OWN ROOM. Finally. And a closet. My clothes are on hangers. And I have furniture that isn't Rubbermaid. The sense of permanence is so nice. And by nice I mean I've already thought about how I could definitely move it all myself when the time comes, but for now I'm happy to not have to lift a dresser for at least a year.
This afternoon I decorated. It primarily involved ripping Orange is the New Black adds out of this summer's edition of BUST. Because if you can have a picture of Natasha Lyonne seductively biting a screw driver taped to your door, why wouldn't you?
In other news, my mom just left town. She was a super helpful mover and also partied way harder than me. No one is surprised. So much love.
But this grandma needs to go to bed like, right meow. I've gotten a collective 6 hours of sleep over the past 2 nights and I open again tomorrow. I'm not complaining, I love this. But Also, I'm literally losing consciousness right now.
Until next,
Kaitlyn
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