Kristabella: Full of Snark Since 1977

Posted By Kristabella on March 5, 2009

Hey! I’m in Arizona! Did you know I was going to Arizona? Because I don’t think I’ve mentioned the fact that I was going to Arizona on vacation. Nope, didn’t mention it. Not once.

I arrived safely last night and was giddy at the fact that I was not wearing a jacket when I was standing outside. It was simply magical. I just wanted to run naked through the curbside pickup area of Phoenix Sky Harbor airport. It was that warm! But let’s be real, no one needs to see that.

My flight was uneventful. As soon as I walked on to the plane, I was half expecting to see Frank Lupitis and was freaked out there was going to be a bright white light and I was going to end up on The Island. But I didn’t see Hurley on my flight and also, I need to stop watching Lost before I fly.

While I was in my seat, waiting for everyone to board, I saw a bunch of boys get on. They were maybe 21. They were all very cute. I tried Twittering, to tell all of you and to ask the cougar equation, but Twitter failed me in my time of need. I’m pretty sure at 31, hitting on a 21 year old would qualify me as a Cougar. And I was OK with that. Too bad they all went to the back of the plane.

I did sit next to a very cute boy, who was about 21. He didn’t talk much. He read his copy of Men’s Health and listened to his iPod. But then as we were getting close to landing, he got all antsy and chatty. Out of the blue he says “there’s a cold beer waiting for me down there when we land.”

I chuckled. and pinched his cheek and just told him how adorable he was. I figured since he was chatty, I should ask him something. So I asked him if he was visiting friends or if he went to school in Arizona. He said “I’m visiting with some friends.” Pause. “I go to school too.”

So I told him, that’s nice, and mentioned I was just wondering if he was a Sun Devil. And he said “oh no. I’m Irish. I don’t tan. I can’t go to school here.”

*blink, blink*

Now, this May will mark 10 years since I graduated from ASU, so I may not be exactly sure of the qualifications it takes to enroll in school there, but I’m pretty sure that there isn’t a tanning test to get in. In fact, they prefer people who don’t like to tan because that means you’ll actually go to class and not spend all day out by the pool.

At this point, the back of the plane started to get a bit rowdy. I saw the flight attendant bring tons of alcohol back there to that group of kids during the flight, so I was sure that was where the noise was coming from. My seat neighbor says “those are my friends. They had a little too much to drink before the flight.” And all I kept thinking was “Oh, I remember those days.” But I didn’t say it because this little boy was just so cute. You could just put him in your pocket and take him home and teach him so many things. And then I realized I was old and I’m so going to end up as a Cougar in just a few years.

That was my thought until we got to baggage claim. And that loud, rowdy group just wouldn’t shut up. I had to move away. And then I decided to get my bag and scoot my walker over to the door and wait for my friend to pick me up, like a good old lady should do.

I have an action-packed, sportstacular weekend planned. We are going to the ASU baseball game tonight, spring training game tomorrow afternoon, ASU basketball game Saturday afternoon and maybe, just maybe, try to squeeze in one more spring training game on Sunday before I leave. I plan to have more beers than I can remember or count and maybe get a little sun. I also plan to wear my flip flops up until the minute I board the plane back to wintry Chicago (which, OF COURSE, isn’t wintry at all this weekend). And I plan to spend time with some of my best friends and laugh so much my stomach hurts!

Drink up bitches!

Category: Travel | 25 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on March 1, 2009

Guess what I spent my Sunday afternoon doing? I spent it in jail after I punched a bitch in the face in the Bath aisle at Target.

Well, not really. But I came close to it. In fact, I was waiting for the bitch to rumble with me in the cat food aisle.

I’m so going to end up sounding like an old lady, but where the fuck has common courtesy gone? I mean, I’m quite used to it not being around on the internet. The internet is a place where you get called out for being a bitch with no sense of humor. But in real life, not through a computer box, I expect people to act just a wee bit human.

So today I made a run to Target. I really only needed to go for light bulbs and figured since it is March, I could take a look at the spring clothes since I will actually get to wear them in a few short days. What I didn’t go there for was rage and wanting to shove some bitch up against shower rods.

I was happily browsing the bath aisles, looking at options for my new house. I figured it was about time to get a new shower curtain and a new bathroom “motif” since I was moving into a new place. I thought I’d check Target to see what they had. I pulled into one of the aisles and this chick had her cart smack dab in the middle of the aisle and was standing and bending over, making it IMPOSSIBLE to get through.

So I rolled up on her ass, kind of cleared my throat, thinking she would see the error of her ways and get the fuck out of the way. Really, how hard is it to pull your cart to one side of the aisle? THIS ISN’T WALMART!

When she didn’t move, I let out a very nice, passive-aggressive sigh and turned my cart around. I went down the next aisle and came up the aisle she was in and totally put my cart in her way. Since I was being passive-aggressive with my loud sigh, I wasn’t actually expecting this 20-something to say something to me.

I was wrong.

HER: You could have just said excuse me.

ME: You could have not had your cart in the middle of the aisle.

HER: I can put my cart wherever I damn well want to.

ME: Wow, OK bitch. I don’t think you need to buy a new shower rod, you can just pull out the one that is stuck on your ass.

OK, I didn’t really say the last part. I did  call her a bitch and turned around and went to the food aisles. A little quicker than normal, I might add. I was so waiting for her to run through the aisles and attack me. But I think she thought better of it when I was a whole foot taller than her.

Also? SHE NEVER FUCKING MOVED HER CART.

I am still kind of pissed about it. WHAT THE FUCK? Is it SO hard to move your cart to the edge of the aisle? I mean, it’s fucking Target. We’re not claiming land here in the 1800s. Putting your cart in the middle of one of the Bath aisles isn’t going to give you the rights to all the towels you can use. It’s just a fucking Target aisle. You won’t be getting acres in Topeka, Kansas out of this.

Plus, it’s Sunday afternoon. Target is always busy on the weekends. You think you’re the only one who needs to look at bath stuff?

What happened to apologizing for blocking the aisle? That is what I do when that happens. I never mean to block it and get in people’s way, but I get caught up in looking at things, so I always apologize for being in someone’s way. How come it works so well at the grocery store? I never run into this problem in the grocery store. People are always mindful of their carts. What happened to people being respectful? What happened to people having common courtesy? I expect this shit at Walmart. I don’t at Target. Target is always a happy place.

Or maybe I was a tad testy because I decided to go out on Sunday when it was snowing, as opposed to Saturday, when it wasn’t snowing. Or maybe I am mad at the world because I am getting sick, my first cold of the winter, right before I leave for Arizona.

Good thing warm weather makes it all better. T minus 3 days.

Category: A Dash of the Crazy, Rants & Rants | 41 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on February 26, 2009

So the other morning I woke up and when I came out into the living room, I saw this.

And I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking 1) Wow, you really need to vacuum that rug and 2) so you’re lazy and left your boot under the coffee table. Tell us something shocking. Yawn.

OK, I WILL!

See, I take my boots off as soon as I come in the door. I have hardwood floors and the melted snow and salt leaves stains that are a pain to clean up. I’m a slob, but I’m not going to be tracking slop all over the house, creating MORE things for me to clean. See, this is where the boots go.

By the front door. With my other shoes. This is where they always are.

So I know what you’re thinking, “big deal! Your coffee table is probably not that far from your door. It is quite possible that when you stumbled drunkenly into the kitchen one night to eat some string cheese, you accidentally kicked the boot under the table.”

Well, yes, it is quite possible. But I hadn’t been drinking. And I would REMEMBER kicking a boot this far. Because it would be EXERCISE.

I have only one culprit.

But seriously, how the fuck did she drag a heavy, size 11 fake Ugg boot across the living room? HOW? And what was she going to so with it? Build a nest? Create a fort? WHAT?

Category: Crazy Cat Lady | 38 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on February 25, 2009

So today is Ash Wednesday. You know what that means, right? It means that people walk around with dirt on their foreheads all day today. But you can’t say anything, lest ye look like an asshole. And it also means that it is the start of Lent. And what is Lent? Well it’s a period of 40 days when you can’t eat meat on Fridays and people give up chocolate and booze. And that’s all I know about Lent because I am a bad Catholic. And I also don’t pay attention in church. I’m too busy critiquing people’s outfits. And remembering when to sit and stand and not wanting to shake the person’s hand in front of me who just sneezed snot all over it not two seconds earlier. Peace be with you, but I’m keeping my hands to myself, thankyouverymuch.

So the big thing people are talking about is what they are giving up for Lent. Because you’re supposed to sacrifice like Jesus did, or something. I was never much into giving anything up for Lent when I was growing up because I AM WEAK. I always said I was giving up broccoli because that was easy. I wasn’t eating broccoli anyway. Take that, Jesus!

When I lived in California, I never really gave it much thought. But one of my friends who I worked with, Carri, she always pressured me to give up something. One year I was going to give up Mexican food, but then only gave up “everything but burritos” which was HARD since I love me some tacos. Another year I gave up candy. And since I know my weakness for candy, especially Starburst jelly beans, I made a promise that if I slipped up, I would donate money to a charity after Easter. I didn’t slip up once. My co-workers at the time had other ideas because I had a Twix cookie. It was a COOKIE. And I didn’t give up cookies. It isn’t my fault that the COOKIE was like a piece of candy. Like being the operative word. It was shortbread topped with caramel and chocolate. A COOKIE.

That year, the night before Easter, I went out on the town with some friends. I went to Walgreens beforehand and at midnight, I ate more candy than any one person should eat in a month, let alone 30 minutes. I paid for it for days.

And that, my friends, is why I don’t give up things like candy and Mexican food for Lent.

But this year, I thought I should. See, you don’t have to only give something up. You could do something charitable or good. Or so I have always been told. But don’t trust me. I am a bad Catholic and come from a family where my Grandma says that Sundays during Lent are “free” days, so you’re allowed to eat/have whatever you’ve given up. Which, I’m pretty sure is NOT IN THE BIBLE. But my Grandma, she is weak and she likes candy too.

So my first Lenten resolution is that I am giving up being lazy. And I am going to work out and get back in shape. I may not work out every day (I still have pub trivia night, people. Priorities) but I will work out a majority of the time. Like tonight, I did some walking, to the store and around the neighborhood, because it was so nice out.

The other thing I’m giving up for Lent is my snooze button on my alarm clock. (I know. Genius, right?) You see, I hit snooze no less that 5 times every morning. And every morning, I’m rushing around trying not to miss the bus. Because 40 minutes earlier I convinced myself that I could so hit snooze one more time and “sleep” for seven more minutes.

But NO MORE! I am setting my alarm for the last possible time that I can get up in the morning. I am no longer going to try to get a cat nap in in five minute increments. I will get up when the alarm goes off! TAKE THAT SNOOZE BUTTON! I don’t NEED YOU!

So we’ll see how this goes. I’m hoping come Easter I won’t even think twice about getting right up when the alarm goes off.

But I’m still eating meat on Fridays. Because I don’t really see that as a sacrifice when we have CHEESE, which is better than meat anyway. Make it tough Jesus, make us give up cheese for 40 days. And really, when I’m at the pearly gates, is eating meat during Lent going to be God’s biggest issue with me. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say no.

Category: A Day in the Life of Me, Land of Random | 34 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on February 24, 2009

In little over a week from now, I will be in Arizona. I will be soaking up as much sun as humanly possible and wearing nothing but SHORT SLEEVES and FLIP FLOPS for four whole days. And while I’m wearing FLIP FLOPS in the SUN, I will be DRINKING BEER and watching baseball. It is my idea of heaven. And it cannot come fast enough.

Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve ever looked forward to a vacation this much. It has already been a long winter here in Chicago. It isn’t even March yet, which means we’re not even close to being out of the woods. We’re guaranteed a March snow. And possibly an April snow, depending on how big of a bitch Mother Nature wants to be this year. I’m honestly just hoping we’re done with high temperatures in single digits and in the teens. It should be upper 20s from here on out. (Really it should be 60s from here on out, but I am a realist people.)

I need the break. I need it badly. Not just to escape the cold. But to take a break from my life for a long weekend. Take a break from work and worrying about condos and mortgages and loans and acid reflux. I just really need to get away. When I booked the trip, I was just looking forward to hanging out with some of my favorite people on the planet for a few days. The sun and warmth and endless amounts of baseball were just icing on a cupcake. I didn’t realize that come this time, when my vacation was right around the corner, that I couldn’t wait to get away. The anticipation is eating away at me. Only six more days of work…

Last week I was out with some friends of mine from The Old Job. (They read and never comment. Hi Ruby! Hi Judi!) I mentioned my upcoming travels and one guy was like “I can’t believe you’re taking vacation so early on in your job.” Which, hi! WRONG TO SAY TO ME! Because then guess what? I couldn’t sleep. Because I was sure I was going to get FIRED for taking vacation three months into a job. Vacation I earn. And vacation days my boss already approved. But it didn’t matter. To a girl who has been laid off three times before and is BUYING A CONDO, WRONG THING TO SAY!

(I should learn to pay him NO attention after the time he basically told me I was fat and needed to lose weight. Some friend. Hrumph.)

But then I started thinking and worrying and we all know where that leads and NO MORE ACID REFLUX TALK.,OKAY? And I second guessed myself, as I’m known to do. Because really, why should I need a vacation? I mean, I’ve only been back at work for 3 1/2 months. That is nothing. No one needs a vacation that soon after starting work.

And really, didn’t I have an extended vacation when I was unemployed for three months? I mean, I slept in until 10 AM every day and watched a lot of TV. That wasn’t really all that strenuous, was it? And how about the two months prior to that? I mean, I was “working” at a job that told me they no longer needed my services. I mean, it wasn’t like I was busy for those last 60 days. I got a lot of blog reading done in that time. Why on Earth would I need a vacation?

You know why? Because since June 27, 2008, when I got my 60 days notice, my life has been a fucking roller coaster. Working for two months at a job that doesn’t want you, having to come in every day and pretend to work, pretend to care, it fucking sucks. That was easily one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life. It eats at your soul. Day after day after day.

And then after I was cut loose, oh right, the economy crashed and it became harder to find a job. And while I was sleeping in, I wasn’t resting. I busted my ass and applied for every job under the sun and worked HARD to get a job. All with a clock ticking in my head, watching each dollar of my severance run out, all while watching the stock market plummet every single day.

But then I got a job. Sigh of relief, right? Yes. But also, no. Did you know that getting laid off twice doesn’t really phase you. I mean, you don’t have that fear of it happening again. It’s just something that happens and you move on. La dee dah. But getting laid off a third time? Really has fucked with my head. It’s not as if I think about it all the time, but that nagging thought, that FEAR, it is always sitting there in the back of my head. Eating away at all my common sense. And my stomach lining. I mean, with the last two years of my life, going back to Slapdick Consulting, is it any wonder that I am having tummy troubles? Isn’t it shocking I have any stomach lining left at all?

So basically, I’ve been putting A LOT of undue pressure on myself. Pressure to be perfect. Pressure to not fuck up ONE BIT. Pressure to not lose my job. Especially now with the looming mortgage payment and a loan for a faint-worthy amount for one single person. Especially one single person who has two freeloading cats. Who may have to start eating fuzz to get by.

That pressure, the stress, has put me in a funk. It’s putting me in a funk with my blog. I very rarely have the desire to write and when I do, it’s really crap. I mean, that last post about spam? I should have told you it was a guest post by an 11-year old. It’s put me in a funk with the internet in general and a lack of a desire to do any of the things I used to enjoy like reading blogs and responding to emails and looking at porn. (Kidding! I’m such a prude.)

So yeah, I need a vacation. I’m going to enjoy myself and not think about anything more than sun, good friends, beer, food, baseball, froot loopz and basketball. And I cannot fucking wait.

Category: A Dash of the Crazy, A Day in the Life of Me | 25 Comments »
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