Sista sLedge.r

Today I discovered a lot of things:

1) I have again confirmed that I don't want children.

Today I went to an Ice Show at a local ice skating rink. When I went there the last time, I met a woman and she invited me to watch her skate. She failed to tell me that she was performing in the second half. Therefore I had to sit through an hour and fifteen minutes of children's performances. Some were really good. Others weren't. But I sat there thinking of how it's such a burden to have children. I bet most of those parents were as bored as I was waiting for their child to perform. Having to sit through that long program. In the cold. Granted, I'm glad Daddy Kiki did it for me when I was little and a figure skater. I just don't have the patience that he has.

And to top it off, one of the 'Silver Skaters' (think women over 50) fell on the ice before her program started and the EMS was called. So that delayed the program further. And my friend still hadn't skated. After she finished up I booked it to Meijer to buy a case of Blue Moon and went home and watched a movie.

But before I get to my Meijer story, let me tell you about my experience at a local eatery.

2) A few days ago I told you I went and got nasty bar food and gorged myself. Well I took a look at my bank statement this morning and saw that the amount I was charged for my food was different that the amount that showed up on my bank statement. $2.52 more. I figured I knew what happened. I have a policy about ordering take out. I don't tip unless the take out is delivered to me. The bar tender didn't do anything special by telling the cook what I wanted and then bringing my food out to me. She didn't fix me a drink at the bar. She never once talked to me. I used to work in a restaurant, so I'm not just being an evil bitch. If you don't do any real work for me, there's no reason for me to tip you. So, I thought the girlie just gave herself a little tip that I wouldn't notice. I called the bar and the manager was very nice. He asked me to bring in a copy of my receipt and bank statement and they would take care of it for me. I did. He offered to just give me the difference. I wasn't completely satisfied with this and told him I wanted to know why there was a $2.52 discrepency. After a lot of back and forth calling, he finally told me that there was a $2.50 fee for using my debit card as a credit card, and a $0.02 tax on that fee. I don't believe him. I'm waiting to talk to the owner tonight. If I don't get the answer I want, I'm blasting the bar on my blog. I've done it before.

3) And last, I saw that my neighborhood Meijer has these cute little shopping carts. They're new and I'm excited. Not so excited that I'll go to the market more...but excited still. And the first person who can tell me what's wrong with this picture wins my undying love. Well, not really. We all know I'm incapable of love.

I come home nearly everyday at lunch to watch Divorce Court (that's whole other post entirely). Today I came home to The Dungeon to find about 8 little bugs on the outside of my house. So I sprayed them with Raid. Here is a picture of one of the culprits.

I'm PMSing. I'm bloated. I don't feel well. Last night I had greasy bar food, a chocolate brownie, and a piece of carrot cake for dinner. (Just typing that makes me want to throw up.) This morning before work I tried on my favorite bikini. My tummy was flat and I looked pretty sexy. I contemplated going to work in just my bikini today.

Thank you God for not allowing all that nasty food to make me fat. Today is a red bull diet and tennis after work. I must look even hotter in that bikini!

Update: Proof that I had a Red Bull diet today. I'm so wired and focused!

This is an open letter to my friends. Please stop being so successful. Please stop buying houses, getting fabulous jobs, getting married, and having babies. I can’t afford all the presents that I want to buy you to congratulate you on your success. So I’m begging. Please, for the next six months. Stop being successful. I’ll have saved enough money to resume buying you things again.

So I’m becoming more comfortable with taking random pictures. These first pictures are of the pastry display at Roma Bakery here in Lansing. I’m a fan of Astoria Bakery in Royal Oak, but once I found Roma, I was hooked. Plus they’re still selling Easter cupcakes for $0.75. I’m in love.

These next pictures are of the HUGE chain linked fence around the Capitol in anticipation for tomorrow’s Nazi rally. Apparently all the Nazis are being bussed in from an undisclosed location and they have to go through metal detectors before they enter the cage and are allowed to protest. So if you’re not on the bus, you can’t protest. Is it ok that I hope it rains tomorrow?

The Nazis are rallying on Saturday. Get excited! That’s the talk of the town in Lansing this week. I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised. I am living in the state capitol. Folks are always rallying for something or another here. It gets interesting in the summertime when everyone with a cause comes out to voice their opinion. I like the folks who give away free stuff. Last year I stopped by a Pro-Choice rally because they were giving away free t-shirts and backpacks. I still wear that t-shirt to bed. I’ve also stopped by when the diary association promotes dairy awareness in the summer. They hand out ice cream. I think dairy is a good cause.

But it’s the Nazis turn on Saturday. I’m glad that the powers that be were smart enough to make them rally on the weekend. Lansing is one of those cities that’s dead after 5P. No one visits downtown on the weekend. So, I’m hoping the Nazis won’t have an audience.

I also have to commend our brand new mayor. He’s young and innovative and he planned a ‘diversity day’ at a local high school on Saturday to counter the Nazi rally. He hopes that by having the diversity fair it will discourage people from going to the Capitol to harass and argue with the Nazis.

I’m all for free speech. I actually have no problem with allowing the Nazi group to rally. However, I think it was very proactive for our mayor to try to counter the rally with the diversity day. I’m hoping both go on without incident.

Sometimes I think it would be great to just move to New York and dress in funky clothes and walk the streets. Truly disturbing clothes. Clothes that are odd colors. Pairing cowboy boots with berets. And I would do this for a couple months and then move back to Michigan and resume my life.

I was in Detroit last night. I was there to go to an alumni meeting and to also meet the New York gay boy I’ve been talking to. Oh, I haven’t told you this story. I posted an ad on CraigsList. It said that I needed a new gay best friend and I was looking for applicants. I don’t know the NY Gay Boy’s name, but he emailed me and told me he would be in Detroit for business and he wanted to have a drink with me. He sent me a picture and passed the attractiveness test and we decided to do drinks when I was in town. Well, long story short, NY Gay Boy had to work late and we never met up. After the alumni thing I decided to pay ADD Tim an unexpected visit.

I must say I miss hanging out with ADD Tim. I called him and let him know that I didn’t want to “see” him. I just wanted to hang out. So we hung out in his bed with all the windows opened and watched the Red Wings game while Kitty (his cat) took turns joining us on the bed and jumping out the window and going outside. ADD Tim is doing really well. He’s lost a ton of weight. His business is growing and he’s buying a new and bigger condo. He told me he’s house sitting at a friends house this summer (with a pool) so I plan to hang out with him more. We talked about dating. He told me that business has been going so well lately that he hasn’t been dating and right now he’s not interested in dating. I agreed. I’m kinda in that same place now too. We had fun. It was a good time. We got to chill and relax and enjoy the cool in the room and just hang. I scratched his back and I told him all about Lansing and The Dungeon and the job. He said it was nice to have the human connection. I couldn’t agree more.

And, in true ADD Tim form, he wouldn’t let me leave without giving me something. And since I wouldn’t accept what he really wanted to offer me (think dirty), he gave me a package of grape leaves (I was hungry) and a red bull to keep me awake for my drive home.

And that’s the story of my visit with ADD Tim.

Ron White. I’m going to call him Ron White. As Kiki is my alias, I learned over drinks that his alias is Ron White. So that’s what we’ll call him.

I’m not sure how we started talking about relationships. However, I have an uncanny ability to stick my foot in my mouth. I’m the type of person to tell a stranger that I hate country music only to learn that I was in the presence of the biggest country singer of all time. I made that same mistake on Saturday night.

“I hate cheaters.” I told him. I haven’t had a traumatic experience with cheating. My parents didn’t cheat on each other and I have never had anyone cheat on me. I also haven’t cheated. It’s just the idea of cheating that makes me upset. I totally believe in dating more than one person. I think that’s healthy. However, I also believe in full disclosure. If you plan on dating more than one person, let everyone who’s involved know.

I could tell that as I ranted on, Ron was getting uncomfortable in his seat. I knew I stuck my foot in my mouth.

“You’re a cheater, aren’t you? Ok. Why do men cheat?”

Ron told me it was a peer pressure power trip. Even though you have the most beautiful woman in the room, you want to know if you can get another woman. Ron gave me an example.

He told me in college that he would wine and dine women. The full works. Candlelight dinner, violinist, champagne and chocolates. Hell, I’ve never gotten that service as an adult. Imagine how awesome it would be getting all that as a college student. He said he loved to impress women. To suck them in, and know he had full control. He told me he even did this when he had a fiancé. I was floored. Knowing what I know about Ron, he obviously appreciates the finer things in life. BMWs, fancy restaurants, the finest golf resorts. I new his fiancé had to have been gorgeous. And he told me she was. “Then why would you cheat on her? I’ve always thought that if I was hot and stayed in shape, no matter what happened, a man wouldn’t cheat on me.” He told me that it doesn’t matter if a man has the hottest woman in the room. He wants more. And he wants to know that he can get more without the women being the wiser.

I know. Ron sounds like a dog. Just by knowing that little bit of information about him, I’d never want to be anything more than friends with him. Not that I was looking for more to begin with. However, I’m glad I had that conversation with him. I’ve never talked to any of my guy friends about why men cheat. But now I have a better understanding on why at least one man does.

The title refers to something that happened last night. It's one of those you had to be there things.

I had an AMAZING Saturday. It was just great.

It started at 7A with me driving to Detroit for my hair appointment. After that I had a 4 hour lunch with a former co-worker. She's doing really well and is an up and coming mover and shaker in the political arena. So of course we talked politics and everything else. I hadn't seen her in two years and it was so nice to reconnect.

From there I went to the mall. I'm on a quest for a new fragrance. Kiki already has a signature fragrance that I wear, but I want something new for the summer. And where, in my opinion has the best selection of fragrance? Neimans! Now, the deal with Neimans is I love the place. I love the service that you get in Neimans. However, it can be a bit intimidating if you don't have Neimans money. I am an example of someone who does not possess Neimans money. So, in order to get fine service, you have to make up a backstory on why you're not gonna purchase anything today. My story was that it's my birthday coming up, and Daddy Kiki sent me to Neimans to pick out the exact fragrance I want and then he'd buy it for my for my birthday. However, in all reality, Kiki was just sampling the fragrances to get an idea of what I wanted, wrote down the name of the fragrance, and then went online to eBay to see if she could get it cheapers. Cause I don't have Neimans money.

After Neimans I bought a bra at Vickies that was under $1324908324329.00. The only time I buy stuff at Vickies is during their semi-annual sale. However, I had a coupon and the bra was purple and I caved. Otherwise, there's no way I'd buy stuff from Vickies. I just think it's too expensive.

After Vickies I called _____ (I can't decide on a name for him). He's the guy I met at the ND Alumni night who wanted to get in my pants and I'm trying to trun his attraction for me into business for my company. Anywho, we had lunch last week and he volunteered to help me with my purchase of golf clubs. I was so grateful he helped me. Because, instead of spending $250 on clubs at a golf store like I was about to do, he took me to Meijer where we found a complete set for $129. He stressed to me that until I could learn to hit the ball consistantly, there was no need for me to have $250 clubs. And he was right. After Meijer he took me to a driving range in Royal Oak where he showed me the basics of holding hte club and identifying the clubs. Then I got some lessons on hitting. And how did I do. Not bad for my first time out. At one point I was consistently hitting to 100 yards. He said that my swing and position are fantastic, I just need to get better at hitting the ball squarely. Folks, I have a new obsession.

From the driving range, I could tell that ______ still wanted to hang out so I suggested we go grab a drink. We ended up in Novi at Moes on Ten where I had a drink and we hung out and talked. It was fun. Although I'm in business relationship mode with him (and I told him so) I can tell he wants to be more. I'm trying to be mature and hope that 'more' doesn't mean he wants to get in my pants. He's very kind and he tries his best to look out for me. I told him how I don't have fun in Lansing and he's determined to show me a good time. So, from Moe's we decided to go to a club.

We jumped in our cars and went to Tequila Rain. Turns out, there was a nasty line, so we went next door to Lucky's. And that was a blast! Lucky's is a grown folks Chucky Cheese. There are games, tickets, cheesy prizes. The works. _____ tried to get me liquored up, but I still wasn't feeling comfortable enough to let my guard down with him. We played for a few hours and I won this awesome Pez dispenser before I realized it was midnight and I needed to go home.

And then I drove back to Lansing. The end.

When I get a little more time, I'll tell you about ______ and my conversation about why men cheat. It was a bit enlightening. I'm off to go play in my garden!

Happy Easter!

Daddy Kiki and I are applying to be contestants on The Amazing Race. Seriously. We got the application today. He watches TAR pretty religiously. I watch it whenever I remember that it’s on. However we both like the fact that we can kick other people’s butts in a physical competition. Plus, we’re both pretty good travelers. I’ve never traveled out of the country, but he used to live in Korea and he’d go to Japan and other Asian countries.

Plus, Daddy Kiki retires next year. He’ll have a lot of time on his hands. So, he thinks it would be a good idea for us to go on a reality show. Of course he made no mention of the time I’d have to take off from work if we get selected to compete. I hope he plans on subsidizing the salary I’m gonna be missing.

Daddy Kiki and I would be good competitors. First, we’re both physically fit, him more so than me. Second, we like to push each other to do things. Even things we don’t like to do. I remember when I was a Wee Kiki, Daddy Kiki used to challenge me to eat hot peppers, because as he told me, only big girls can eat peppers without crying. And last, even though Daddy Kiki is a saint of a man, he turns his head and won’t say anything if I were to sabotage other players. Because we’re in it to win. No matter the costs.

So that’s the story of Daddy Kiki and Miss Kiki competing in The Amazing Race. I don’t know how far we’ll get in the application process, but it’s gonna be a ton of fun trying!

I like when people say that the North is much better than the South for blacks. Because the North didn’t have Jim Crow laws. Even Daddy Kiki feeds into it a bit. When I told him I was thinking of moving to Florida or Georgia or Virginia later on in life, he warned me about not getting ahead because of racism in those areas.

Well for those of you who didn’t know, the North is making strides in racism as well. This story has been all over the news in Lansing. For those of you who don’t read items with more than 100 words (Kipper), this is what happened. 2 weeks ago, a police sergeant told police that he was shot in the arm by a black man at 3 a.m. As a result, schools and local businesses were shut down and neighborhoods put on lockdown because this dangerous, armed, almost cop killing black man was roaming the streets. There was even an artist’s rendering of said black man so folks could be on the lookout. However, we find out yesterday that it was all a lie and the sergeant wasn’t actually shot by a black man, he just shot himself in the arm. Oops!

Oh Lansing. You’re so behind the times. No one has falsely accused black people of crimes since Susan Smith told police a black man carjacked her and drowned her kids. And that was back in 1995. More than 10 years ago! Even the Runaway Bride told police that some white people kidnapped her and shoved her into a van. Why? Because the Runaway Bride had class and respected race relations. Silly Lansing, now we blame all our misfortunes on the terrorists. If something bad happens to you, blame Osama. Everyone’s mad at him anyway and we’re positive that he’s done some bad in the past. You can’t lose by blaming the terrorists.

So the lessons learned are as follows:
1) The South isn’t the only racist game in town. The North is representing too.
2) If anything bad ever happens to you, blame the terrorists. Because blaming black men is so 1995!

Ok. I get it. When you screw someone over, you should probably brace for it, because you’re gonna be screwed over yourself.

The Designer didn’t call this weekend. Therefore we didn’t have our date on Sunday like I had planned. I wasn’t too upset about him not calling. I really didn’t have very much confidence in his mental capabilities, and our last few phone conversations were very trying on my part. I did get a call from him last night. At midnight. I let it go to voicemail. There’s no way I’m talking to anyone that late at night on a school night. I listened to the message this morning. I’m paraphrasing what he had to say:

Sorry I didn’t call you yesterday. I had to go in to work because my
manager called me about a presentation we had to make today. We ended up
staying till 7:00. I don’t know if it was a long week or just being there,
but after I got home I just passed out. And I totally apologize for
yesterday and I hope we can make it up either this week or this weekend.
Sorry I’m calling you so late. I just wanted to make sure I called
you. Have a good night.

I didn’t really know how to respond to his message. I thought it was weird for him to call me so late at night. Maybe he really was busy. Maybe I should cut him some slack. I thought about that until my voice mail told me I had a saved message on my phone. Not remembering what message I saved, I listened to it:

March 25, 2006 1:00 a.m.

Sorry to call you so late.
Last night I ended up taking a shower and I ate something and I accidentally
passed out. I’m just getting off work right now. It’s been a crazy
day. Sorry I didn’t get in touch with you earlier. When you get a
chance, give me a call when you get some time. Hopefully within the next
week or two we can get together and have a drink. Sorry for calling so
late.

Ok, what the hell is wrong with this kid? Who passes out so much? I mean, I accidentially pass out all the time. But it usually involves a bottle of wine and a weekend. Not 7P on a weeknight. And what’s up with him calling so late at night? I just don’t understand. I’m not calling him back. I don’t have time to deal with his bullshit. Even if he did get home at 7 (I’m assuming p.m. his message didn’t say differently) you can just pick up the phone and tell me that you’re really tired and you can’t make it. I could have understood that. To not call until midnight the next day seems fishy to me.

Well, like I said. I was bad to a person in the past so I’m assuming this is my comeuppance. I can’t wait till the next crazy applies to win me over.

***Disclaimer: This entry is not taking a shot at anyone. It’s not meant to offend. It’s just that it’s 8A and I’m sitting in a McDonald’s in Detroit and I have an hour to kill before I start working. This is just a rambling from my now over caffeinated brain.***


So I’m sitting in McDonald’s this morning. It’s the result of me waking up much too early to drive to Detroit for my last volunteer session. I have now affirmed why I don’t eat fast food or go to fast food establishments. My order was simple enough. I wanted a bacon and cheese McGridle with no egg, a small coffee with 2 creams and 8 sugars. 20 minute later, the young guy making sandwiches still didn’t get the order right and the manager gave me two free apple pies and a hash brown. Not that I needed any of that food. Sometimes it’s just fun to get stuff for free.

Last night I went to a bar for dinner. Burgers and Beer. It kinda depressed me. There were about 10 people total at the bar. Most were law school students. I sat next to the middle aged men who were having beers and smoking cigarettes. A fairly young couple sat across from me at the bar. I felt a little bad for them. The husband was mildly attractive (remember, Lansing standards) and the wife was a bit dumpy and a little overweight. I felt sorry for the husband. From my vantage point, the husband was still fuckable. However, he gave up his fuckable status and got married and now he’s stuck with an unattractive wife. Ok. Maybe they’re in love. But they just didn’t look like a compatible couple. I stared at them some more. (No one at the bar was interested in talking to me.) I wonder if this is all we have to look forward to. If that’s what marriage is really all about. It looked like the guy could be doing so much more than being married. Like I said, he was attractive. He could have been having cocktails with a leggy coed. He could have been throwing down brewskis with his bros. But no, he was stuck at the bar with his wife at 7P on a Friday night. Is that what you have to look forward to when you’re older and married? If so, it’s pretty depressing. I was thinking about it as I was driving in this morning. I cherish my independence. I like not having to consult someone else before I do something. I like making decisions on my own. I can’t imagine myself connected to someone else forever. What if I get bored of them? What if they turn out to be someone you never imagined in the future? What if they change? Then what? You’re stuck with them. And you gave up your fuckable status. And you’re screwed.

The guy sitting next to me at the bar finally turned around and acknowledged my presence. “Why do you look so sad?” “I just found out I’m pregnant,” I said, taking another sip of my Killians. He gave me a horrified look. “Oh don’t worry. I have my abortion scheduled for next week.”

Ok, that last paragraph didn’t really happen. But wouldn’t it be funny if it actually did?