Christmas Poem with bonus video

The following poem is best understood knowing that my roommate, Christina, goes by "Stina." She calls me "Dizzle." Our Dogs are named Jed and Mojo and my cat's name is Karma. Please enjoy and make sure you watch the video at the end.

Merry Christmas!

A Few Nights Before Christmas By Kristin Welch

A few nights before Christmas up in the hizzle

Nobody stirred, Not Stina, Not Dizzle

The stockings were hung by the chimney with tape

As snow fell covering the cityscape

Stina and Dizzle snuggled up in their sweats,

With dreams that Santa could settle their debts

“There is too much to do and not enough money”

Dizzle declared, “It’s not even funny”

Forced snuggling commenced with Stina and Jed

As days of prosperity danced in her head

The night took the sky and the girls closed their eyes

They slept through the night, then awoke with surprise

Karma jumped off the sink, making a clatter

Jed jumped out of his skin, then ran to get at her

Mojo then joined in the chase for the kitty

The once quiet day began to get shitty

Stina and Dizzle Shouted loud and clear

“Jed, Mojo, NO – GET OVER HERE!”

Jed reluctantly obeyed his command,

While Mojo, as usual, took defiant stand.

“My dog is an asshole,” Dizzle decried

She got out of bed, feeling defied

To the computer, Dizzle then went

Her facebook was checked, and e-mails were sent

Stina awoke, made her way to the kitchen

Grabbed some coffee, and started her bitchin’

“We need to go shopping, but I don’t wanna go!”

Stina lamented, as she eyeballed the snow

“I’t nersty outside, but it has to be done,

Let’s get dressed and get on with this fun!”

Dizzle got up, and walked towards her room

The intent was to change to shopping costume

She walked through the doorway and what did she see?

From the ceiling fell liquid resembling pee.

“Oh Crap!” Dizzle screamed, then came wild laughter

What else to you do when it rains from the rafters?

Stina declared, “ we must call the landlord,”

Dizzle – grab towels to protect the floorboards.”

“My carpet is soaked, can you grab the bucket?”

“Jed,, don’t drink from the puddlle – Ah whatever – Fuck it!”

The cursing grew louder as the girls looked for answers

This was a huge problem, cracks were spreading like cancer.

The landlord arrived, A hero for sure!

If someone could fix it, he’d find a cure!

Up to the roof, with shovel in tow,

The landlord would rid the roof of it’s snow

The ceiling stopped dripping, but the room was still wet

For the weekend, this was as good as it’d get.

For Dizzle and Stina, far and away

It had already been one hell of a day

As the landlord left and drove out of sight,

Stina said, ”Merry Christmas Dizzle, let’s get drunk tonight!"

We were all there once

For me - it was Rider Strong from "Boy Meets World" or Brandon Lee form "The Crow" (thanks for the reminder Paisana)or Johnny Depp...Hell, it's STILL Johnny Depp



Who did it for you as a pre-teen?

Like bird watching - only not at all.

One of the upsides to living in a large metropolitan area is People Watching. Major cities provide People Watching greatness at a level rivaled only by airports. Thing is, after living in a city for so long, you become desensitized to most of the amazing things you encounter on a daily basis. It's only when I am with people from out of town that I realize how much I ignore my surroundings. I will be power-walking my way down the street, expertly navigating the sidewalk cracks, hell-on-heels grates and unidentified piles of nasty - all while sending an e-mail and simultaneously telling my friend about the “crazy day” I just had at the office. At the crux of my titillating tale, I will inadvertently realize that I have lost my friend…to some homeless dude.

(Note to people from outside of big cities: When someone who appears as though they have not showered in a few years inquires to whether they may ask you a question – keep walking. If you are a slave to etiquette, you may politely say” no.” However, if they begin to follow you, keep walking. Do not make eye contact, do not slow down. Do not pass go, do not give the man $2. This is not because the person might hurt you (though I wouldn't rule that out), but rather, because this person is banking that they will annoy you into giving them money – more money for those of you that give him the $2. Forget your manners and keep walking…besides, if you stop to talk to Captain Crappedhispants, you will miss the best part of my awesome story.)

I don’t want to lose my friends to homeless dudes, but I also don’t want them (or me) to miss out on some prime People Watching opportunities. You just have to know how to do it right. Your first order of business is to find a good place to be. The middle of the sidewalk is not a good place to be. Think of People Watching like any other activity. It's better if you find an appropriate location. I mean, sure, I could take a crap while I walk around and stare at skyscrapers, but wouldn’t it be better (and ultimately more pleasant) if I just took the time to find proper facilities? Location is everything, baby. For People Watching, benches, grassy areas, and leaning against the side of a building are all excellent options. However, if the weather is nice, consider sidewalk seating at an outdoor café. That way, you can eat and converse about your sightings.

Next, talk about what you see. If we are People Watching and you see a group of people with no pants…you better point that out. Better yet, make a game out of your People Watching experiences. Below are some of my favorites;

1. Guess the Occupation: Just as it sounds - as people walk by, try to figure out what they do for a living. Make it fun. Is the short guy in the brown loafers a salesman or a gigolo? He may really be a sales guy, but wouldn’t it be cooler if that incoming call was from a woman desperate to pay for what’s underneath his Dockers? Nice pants, indeed.

2. Turn it into a drinking game: This obviously works best from an outdoor café or a friend’s balcony. Every time you see some douche with one of those Bluetooth headsets – drink. Drink twice if he is yelling at the person on the other end of the line. Take a shot for every cab driver that freaks out.

3. Gay or Foreign: This is one that can even be played while walking. Fashion can be tricky. Consider the following photo example and ask yourself…is that dude gay or foreign?

This is a game I often play with my gay friends. It's amazing how "Gaydar" flies right out the window once a European accent negates the fashion cues. I also especially enjoy this particular game. The same guy could be perceived many different ways depending on fashion choice. Again, consider the following photo example;

In a suit, the guy looks great. Fashionable and ready for an event. This look is very "now" and neither the guy's sexuality nor nationality are really peaking my curiosity. He may look a little too Ashton Kutcher-ish for my taste, but that's besides the point. It's not like I'd kick him out of bed or anything.

Same guy in the 70's print button up and hat? Totally foreign. I can hear the accent now. He would never dress this way at home, but he is visiting a foreign city and was mislead by window displays. Feeling as though he may not be able to attract American women in a t-shirt and jeans, this guy was lead astray by an overzealous hourly employee at a designer resale shop. With an American accent - total d-bag. But now peekture heem wiss moor oov a frawnch acceent. Kinda do-able, no?

In the third outfit - totally gay.

See how fun this can be?

Got my Mojo Workin'

Been a while since I gushed about my dog, huh? Isn't he the cutest?



Credit goes to my roomie for the pictures...this is her dog Jed...



Our apartment is full of adorable.

10 Things I Learned On My Vegas Vacation

1. My uncle has one of the most awesome mullets I have ever seen. I couldn't be prouder of his unashamed yet undeniable commitment to sporting one of America's most mocked hairstyles.

2. I forgot how much pain is involved in getting a tattoo...not that I got one or anything.*

3. Slot machines are evil money eating robots. Luckily, I cannot be tricked by their shiny, sparkly exteriors.**

4. Despite my intentions to get married to an Elvis Impersonator (The young, hot one) BY an Elvis Impersonator (the old, fat one), I was not successful. Next time I will set my sights on something more attainable, like getting a raging case of syphilis.

5. Cirque Du Soleil's "Love" will change your life.

6. Sometimes you just need to break away from the group and spend a day by the pool. Screw them. I'm tan now.

7. I have a much stronger appreciation for Chicago's anti-smoking laws now. Since quitting last October (Ooohh...the 1 year anniversary is close!), I have become one of those people that "stink eyes" the sidewalk smokers downtown. I recognize the hypocrisy in that I only recently was one of them, but damn...my hair still stinks!

8. Girls want to meet me! In my room! And can be there in 20 minutes! (Something to keep in mind for next time, when I try to get an STD that makes it burn when I pee!)

9. Never leave your cell phone in the rental car, turn in the rental car, get on a plane and fly home. (My dumbassedness astounds me sometimes)

10. I am no longer of the age where "clubbing" even remotely sounds like fun...and I am 100% okay with that.

Viva Las Vegas!





*yes I did.
**yes I can.

Shameless pimping

A very dear friend of mine has some art up for sale on etsy. Some of it is a little on the bizarre-o side, but there is no doubting her talent. If you are into unique and original peices - I urge you to check out her stuff. Her specialized etsy page can be found here. Her stuff is super-affordable and she may add some more peices soon.

You can blame her lack of page fanciness on me. Since she doesn't have easy access to a computer - I posted her stuff for her. Because I know nothing about art...I totally did not do her justice. Regardless...check it out.

I have her stuff in my place and so should you. She made my dog(and dining room) look pretty amazing...that is for sure.

Reason #874.5 why I am an asshole

A while back, I briefly dated a guy named Mike. I met him out and about at a bar in Chicago. He seemed really nice, had a good job, and sang in a band (do I always date musicians?), and frankly, he was pretty darn cute. We hit it off and he asked if he could take me out sometime. I was interested, so I obliged. He took me out for dinner and drinks and I went out to meet his friends. I even introduced him to a few of mine on the second date. All in all, so far so good.

I believe it was the third date or so when he surprised me with tickets to go see Mofro at Schuba's in Chicago. I had casually mentioned that they were one of my favorites and I was pleasantly surprised by the gift. We planned to meet up at his condo in the South 'burbs and head out to the show from there. I showed up early and excited to see a great band in a great venue. Antsy and anxious, I pressed for us to get moving quickly if we wanted to get a good vantage point for the show, but he wouldn't budge, saying that he had a "surprise" for me.

20 minutes later, there was a knock on his door and the surprise had arrived...in the form of a white stretch limousine. I suppose that most girls would find this sort of gesture incredibly romantic and thoughtful, but it freaked me out. Big time. It just seemed like waaaay too much effort for a third date, and let's face it, he was trying too hard. I'm not the kind of girl that can be "bought," and I felt like the gesture was wholly unnecessary. Nevertheless, I decided to stop being a neurotic bitch and just enjoy the evening for what it was.

We pulled up to the venue, and I have to admit, I felt a little like royalty being let out of a limo, just to see a band at a bar. I was starting to feel pretty good about the date. So what if he was trying too hard? It just meant that he thought I was worth the expense. I was sure that we were going to have a great night.

Since we didn't have to look for parking, we arrived at the perfect time to scope out a great place to stand and enjoy the show. Mike went off to grab a couple beers and I held down our place on the floor. Minutes later, Mike returned with beers and shots. I took the shot and toasted to a great night. Not wanting to get too drunk (it was only the third date), I mentioned that one shot would be my limit for the evening. Mike agreed not to buy me any more and gently squeezed my hand and smiled as the lights went down for the show. I blushed as he kissed my hand and twirled me around once to the music.

The band sounded great and Mike and I were having a really good time. He excused himself to grab a couple more beers and I stayed near the stage dancing and singing along. Several songs later, I found Mike at the bar high-fiving some guy with a line of empty shots in front of him. I asked where he had been, and he slurred the response that he was, "Schtaking some shots wisss his new friendsss." He shoved another beer in my direction and downed what I could only assume with his fifth shot within the 20 or so minutes that he had been away from my side. Annoyed, but still reeling over his sweetness only moments before - I asked if he would care to join me back on the main floor for the show. He waved me away and said he would meet up with me when he was done with his friends that knew how to "party."

Suddenly embarrassed and upset, I walked away, determined to enjoy myself with or without him. After all, I had tickets to a great show and lord knows I don't need a guy to have a good time (that's why batteries exist). I ended up running into some old friends out on the floor and made the very mature move of getting wasted in retaliation. If Mike wanted to get drunk without me, I was going to do the same.

At the end of the show, I said goodbye to my friends and found my "date." Considering that he had downed what must have been close to an entire bottle of whiskey, he was still standing upright and was actually somewhat coherent, although I can't say the same for myself. We got back in the limo (well, fell back into the limo, if I am going to be perfectly honest), where I decided to give him a piece of my mind. "How dare he just leave me all alone? I had thought we were going to have a good time together, and instead he just bellied up to the bar and ignored me. He should never have even taken me out if he was just going to drink himself stupid and blah blah blah." I was MAD...and drunk as hell.

Slurring but apologetic, Mike started to defend himself when I interrupted him by rolling down the window to vomit. Oh yes...I did. On the Interstate. Going 60+ mph. It was all over the front of my dress, in my hair, all down the side of the limo and probably on the poor car driving behind us. The world was spinning and having my head sticking out of a speeding vehicle with nothing to see but the world flashing before my eyes was not helping my condition. There were no towels to clean myself off, and there was no way to scrape my dinner or my dignity off the side of the road...and we were still a good half hour away from his place.

I won't gross you out with the details of the rest of the evening, but let's just say that I was not putting my best face forward. I still think it was a jerk move to abandon me at a concert for shots, but in the long run, I was the one who came out of the situation looking like a jerk.

Let's tally, shall we? Guy buys me concert tickets after I casually mention that I liked a band. Mike = 1, KC = O. Guy orders limo to take us to show. Mike = 2, KC = O. Mike gets shitfaced, KC gets shitfaced. Mike = 2, KC = 0. Mike apologizes, KC blows chunks out of a limousine window. Mike = 2, KC = -5.

Can you believe he asked me out on another date? I must be cute when I puke.