Do you ever just look back at your past self and really wish you could run up and punch them in the face? Yeah, I know, we all learned from our stupid days and everything happens for a reason, blah blah, BLAH. But frankly, 15 year old needs a good slap in the face. Or just violently shook.

In this case I mean academically. I wasn’t a bad student but I could have been an excellent student. Why wasn’t I? “Because school isn’t your life.” SMACK. Right across her wannabe bohemian face.

I am currently starting on a journey that I will label the Ninja Project for the time being since it is still in early phases and I’m not sure how this will all land. It involves some foray back into academia and I find myself falling into habits I thought I broke years ago.

It’s like the adage, “I will binge 5 seasons of a TV show straight on Netflix but I’ll be damned if I watch a YouTube video that’s longer than 5 minutes.”

Or something like that.

I can read until I fall asleep, wake up and keep reading. I did it just the other week and I am going to do it again in a few days when my new book arrives. But ask me to read something? Uuuuugh. It’s like it’s hard wired into my body to just reject people telling me what to do. You’d think that someone with such an issue with authority could say she had a bad childhood or something. Nope. Not this gal. Wonderful parents. I’m just a middle class white girl with something to prove.

“Read this chapter.”
“FUCK THE POLICE!”
“Why did you just set yourself on fire?”
“I WILL NOT CONFORM TO YOUR SHEEPLE WAYS!”
“Someone call 911.”
“VIVA LA FRENCH WORDS!”

My new favorite time waster is Reddit. I know I am way late to the party but it is just a wonderland of fun. It is also a cesspool of unwashed neck crest with cognitive powers and typing abilities but hey, so is the rest of the internet, right?

I actually made an hour by hour break down of my day last weekend in order to promote maximum efficiency. Homework, chores, errands and a few breaks here or there. It turned into a wasted piece of paper because my half hour of allotted internet time turned into about 2 hours.

I only say this because you aren’t allowed to judge me. Why? Because you’ve done it, too. Everyone has their ultimate time suck and mine is Reddit. Here are the biggest time sucks on the internet in no particular order.

• Reddit
• Pinterest
• Facebook
• Twitter
• Tumblr

I was almost going to list Any Porn Site Ever but then thinking about it, if you watch as much porn as some people spend reblogging Sherlock memes on Tumbr then you need to seek medical attention. Your genitalia, male or female, is about to fall off.

This is the confession moment where I tell you I am on all those sites except Pinterest. The site bothers me for whatever reason and I refuse to succumb to its ways.  Look! I want to paint my room just like this! Look how awesome this is! You’re right this is awesome! I want to put in on my board too! Now my friends can look at it! Hooray! Let’s all sit around wishing for things we can’t have!

Everyone says that Facebook and Twitter are these vanity sin websites. Well, Pinterest is breaking the You Shall Not Covet rule pretty hard and fast. Meanwhile, Reddit is full of atheists so frankly they are all going to hell for one reason or another (or all the reasons!)

And, by the way, if you pin things and love the site, hey, more power to ya but just know that when it pops up on my Facebook feed that you are in a pin frenzy my first thought is, “CAKE EATER!”

And to sum up this nonsense post please understand that this is how I view the world with no Pope.

Based on the games I watched this weekend, here is my formal request to become a replacement referee for the NFL.

Qualifications:

• I know what football is and, on most days, I do not confuse it with soccer.
• I’m a real, “Throw the Flag, Pick a Penalty Later” kind of gal.
• I was in marching band so I could blow a whistle louder than anyone, and in three different pitches.
• I look great in stripes.
• I know most of the rules. And the ones I don’t know, I refuse to believe exist.
• I am confident I could make up a rule on the spot and convince everyone to believe it is real.
• I am free most Sundays anyway to watch football, what better way to watch than right on the field?
• Can I retroactively ref the Steelers/Raiders game? Not nearly enough penalties for either worthless team.
• I am extremely unbiased towards most of the teams. Some teams. A few teams. Okay, just the Chiefs and the Dolphins. Is Dan Marino still playing? No. Okay. Then just the Chiefs.
• Would I purposely try to ensure that the Chiefs win the Superbowl? Probably. But that’s honest and honestly should be rewarded with blind trust.

Demands:

• I want to make $10,000 a game.
• I need a reserved box in every stadium for my cats. They are huge football fans.

Frankly, I think I would be a clear choice. Shoot me an email and we can talk numbers. I don’t think I am out of line by saying I would be the Ed Hochuli of replacement refs.

You guys remember when I made my post reviewing the Houdini Wine Opener? Of course you do! It’s a classic post that will go down into history as one of the best product reviews of all time.

Remember this part:

I mean, I’m a smart lady but I’m also weary of breaking things. Because I do that. Frequently. Luckily YouTube exists and I got a general idea of what was going on.

Yeah, well, the video that existed was… not… great. It was helpful, but it wasn’t the best. Hoppie has also been telling me I should start vlogging. So, I decided to make a video. I am proactive and things! YAY!

Other than my minor flub-up with removing the cork, I think it went well. Now, maybe one day I’ll speak in a video….. HAHAHAHAH!

So the wedding things have finally gotten to me in the form of what I have been calling Stress Dreams. These are dreams where I am literally stressed out the entire time and I wake up EXHAUSTED.

Why does my mind hate me? How is this okay? I would gladly take nightmares twice a week over these things. I think they are from me trying to repress my bridezilla-ness. My new plan to be zen and not let anything get to me is causing these. I think I am being zen wrong.

The first one I had was all wedding related. I barely remember it but I remember that every time I said something someone told me it wasn’t possible. I was getting fit for my dress and they told me I had two hours until the ceremony. Then I realized I had never sent my invitations. Hoppie and I forgot to get wedding bands and we had no one to marry us. It was just a series of these things over and over. I woke up tired and in a big need of a nap. And a stiff drink.

I bring this up not to tell you about my boring wedding stress dream. I want to tell you about my True Blood stress dream. OH YES. It happened last night and when I woke up I was simultaneously exhausted and confused.

Now of course I couldn’t have a sexy True Blood dream. No Eric or Alcide or Jason. Oh no, I was wandering around Bon Temps fretting.

In this dream I was a new vampire and Bill was my maker. I assume that because he was the one trying to find a bottle of True Blood for me but everywhere was sold out. Abbey the newly turned vamp and no fake blood for her. Sad.

Then I decided I would feed on a human but I couldn’t figure out how to get my fangs out. Then a bunch of people where trying to kill me but I didn’t know how to break into super speed. Then the sun was coming up!! HELP!!

On top of that Jessica hated me. That was just upsetting because A) she’s awesome and I would love her as a BFF and B) technically dream-wise, she’s my sister! Ugh. Where’s the sisterly love?

No murder mystery. No wacky adventure. Just Abbey wandering about being the world’s worse vampire and convinced everyone was trying to kill her. (Although thinking about it, I’m sure this is how the characters feel all the time in the show. Constantly freaked out and desperately seeking medication.) Also there was something about a movie theater but I can’t remember what it was about. Or, for that matter, how it correlated to True Blood or stress… Probably just my brain reminding me to go see Batman this weekend.

Thank goodness I didn’t have a Newsroom stress dream. I would have accidentally booked a Gaddafi impersonator on the day they declared him dead. Jeff Daniels wouldn’t put up with my shit and fired me, despite my plucky spirit. DRAMA!

Lord help me if I start getting Game of Thrones stress dreams. We all know how weddings work in Westeros….

I had my littlest sister under my roof for over 24 hours this weekend. For any new comers my family is me, my younger brother (22), and two sisters L and T (8 and 7 respectively). I was supposed to take both of them out swimming this weekend but L went away with a school friend to celebrate Christmas in July all weekend on a boat. The awesomeness of that aside, I decided to take T out for a bike ride and dinner. That turned into her spending the night and most of Sunday with Hoppie and me.

We live almost right beside a very large park. T wanted nothing more than to go hang out there all weekend, spinning endlessly on the tire swing.

The tire swing is important because it’s where I made one interesting observation and met the most intense 7 year old ever.

First the observation. How much better would the world be if we all acted like kids on a playground? I get jittery and socially awkward asking questions to store employees when I can’t find the changing room. “Oh, under the big sign that reads CHANGING ROOM, you say? Interesting…” Children will enter a playground and just interact with each other. No names, no introductions, just a simple hello and BAM they are playing tag with everyone.

Imagine if you saw a group of people playing soccer or disc golf. You want to play so you saunter up to them and ask to join them. Two things happen here. One, they look at you like you are a Martian and tell you no. Two, they are fine with you joining, if not a bit weary, because you fell all over yourself to get the words out. Adults are horrible. I’m not saying that a child wouldn’t turn away some pus ridden kid with his finger in his nose (because if I remember childhood correctly children can be equally as horrible) but by and large children just morph into a herd seamlessly on the playground.

I think Obama would do a lot more for hope and sanity in this country if he declared all of America to be one giant playground. Wouldn’t change much really, just people being friendlier in this giant game of tag we are all playing called life.

OKLAHOMA IS BASE!

Also, I met the most intense 7 year old in the world. I was spinning and pushing T on the tire swing and this small boy walked up to me and asked if he could get on too. I stopped the swing and let him on. I told him to let me know if I was spinning too much or too high and to let me know when he wanted off. He asked me if I was T’s babysitter and I informed him that I was his sister. He stared at me confused for a bit too long.

As they spun this young man kept mock-wailing about how he might puke and how scared he was. That weird thing kids do when they are trying to impress or just communicate with other kids. T just looked at him and stated simply that she wasn’t afraid and could spin all day without puking. This boy was suddenly in awe of her fearlessness and began quizzing her trying to find out what her fears were. As I was letting him off the tire swing Taylor said she wanted to swing more and declared herself fearless. After I agreed the boy looked up at me with through his Beatles haircut with big brown eyes and said earnestly, “If she falls on the ground and scrapes her knee does she not bleed?” and then walked away.

Cards on the table, I have no idea how to close this out. I just couldn’t believe the words came out of his mouth so honestly and seriously.

I will say that in all the wedding planning the idea of kids keeps getting bandied about. Watching Hoppie interact with T made me all gushy inside. Then after I dropped her off, I realized how tired I was. To my parent readers out there, you guys deserve a medal. A big one. One that comes with a free nap.

Marie: […] I read it in a magazine.
Jess: I wrote that.
Marie: Get out of here.
Jess: I did.

Nora Ephron, thank you for all of your movies. I have honestly watched Julie and Julia, You’ve Got Mail, and When Harry Met Sally within the last month. The last two are my rainy day movies. They are the only two “chick flicks” that show up in my pie chart of movies I have wasted hundreds of hours rewatching.

That chart pretty much sums up my life. I’m a Doomsday Romantic. And considering that my wedding will take place on the last day of the world, I feel like that is a solid assessment.

What I am trying to say is that when I heard Nora Ephron died today I was unusually upset. It was unsettling because I’m not one to dwell on a celebrity death (if you want to call her that). Whitney Houston, Davy Jones, Dick Clark… Sure I felt a pang of loss for SOMEBODY THAT I UUUSED TO KNOOOOW! But I didn’t actually know them. They influenced me but they weren’t a big part of my life. Nora Ephron though? She managed to root herself into my brain. The kind of writer I wanted to be. Being the catalyst for some of my favorite movies. While not perfect, a female role model I respected. Today, I was frantically trying to find someone within my immediate area to feel feelings with me. I found no one. I was just sitting there with brewing sadness.

She was a woman who made me wanna write with all her movies. I want someone to quote my work back to me. I want to write an inspiring, albeit haughty, article to try and rally a community around a local store. I want to write a blog people want to read, to have that blog turn into a book, to turn into a movie and for that movie to star Meryl Streep. I want to go visit fat John Travolta and write country songs about my failed relationships.

When I have writers block I turn to her movies. For better or for worse I get through it. Or sometimes I just find myself next to the stove stirring a pot boeuf bourguignon. Whether she meant to or not she inspired me to write and sometimes cook. Recently she inspired me to read. Namely, I was moved to read Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher.

So, in a moment of genuine honesty, thank you Nora Ephron. You will continue to inspire my need to write for many, many years. You will be missed.

Kathleen Kelly: The odd thing about this form of communication is that you’re more likely to talk about nothing than something. But I just want to say that all this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings.

I’m not usually a product reviewer but, hey, I’m trying new areas of writing, right? Right. Let’s dive right in, shall we?

I ordered the Houdini 5-Piece Wine gift set from Woot.com (A site that get most of my paychecks and has supplied me most of my wardrobe since 2008). I saw the gift set up a month or two ago and regretted not buying one, so I trolled the site for a while waiting for another chance. Sure enough, earlier this week it was up on their site and I bought one without hesitating.

Yesterday I was out shopping and I got an alert that the gift set would arrive the next day so I bought a nice big bottle of Barefoot Pinot Noir to test it out on. The next day after work I came home and ripped open the package to find my 5 piece set.

• Houdini wine opener
• A replacement corkscrew
• Foil cutter
• Wine Shower
• Bottle sealer

I plopped myself down to test the set out while Hoppie was cooing dinner. Everything was pretty easy to use although I was a bit upset there were no instructions. I mean, I’m a smart lady but I’m also weary of breaking things. Because I do that. Frequently. Luckily YouTube exists and I got a general idea of what was going on.

The cork remover itself  is pretty simple to use and very swift. I was a bit clumsy with it but I blame that not on design but on user. But once I was situated it was a simple push down, then pull up. Badabing, open! I believe the words I shouted were, “Holy crap!” when the cork came out in seconds.

You have to understand, I usually look like a monkey when I open up wine bottles. I am sitting on the floor with my feet holding the bottle steady while I use my $2 corkscrew to break into my wine. (Have any of you tried using a corkscrew on a Swiss Army Knife to open wine? I have twice. Both times sucked and I mostly drank the wine to spite my knife.)

So this new thing is magic to me. Barely any work AND I can open it without looking like a caveman? Sign. Me. Up.

The foil remover worked really well, although I am not so sure I’ll use it all the time. I’ll probably forget I have it most times. I’m used to just ripping it off with my hands or something pointy. (And if you can’t already tell, I drink wine but it’s not because I’m classy. I just looove the taste.)

Perfect cut. Perfect picture.

I love the wine shower. I could kind of taste the difference, but mostly I just enjoyed watching it pour. Just be careful. As I learned, if you are too busy watching the shower you might over pour the top. The shower pours at a slower pace than your bottle pours. It’s easy to watch to shower and let it spill over the top of the device. Or you could just pour slower, but where’s the fun in that?

It took me a moment but I figured out how the bottle sealer works. You place it over the mouth of the bottle and twist until it seals. Kinda bulky looking but it may be better than cramming the cork back in. I can’t really say if it works at sealing in the freshness/flavor or not at the moment. I’m not going to wait a week to review this stuff. Let’s be honest, I’ll forget.

Sealed for flavor! (I hope.)

So basically, I really like it. The only negative is no instructions. I’m a wino, not a problem solver.

I would highly recommend one! I think I may make my own video about using it because the ones that exist now are really crappy.

I am going back to my wine. If you have any questions, let me know. Also, any advice on my reviewing would be handy. Maybe next time I won’t review something I loved so thoroughly. Seems boring.

I believe I mentioned it earlier that I submitted an article to an online site. Well folks, guess what?

R-r-r-r-rejected!

I got my rejection letter about 9 days after submitting it: Thanks for the opportunity with this one, but I’m afraid we aren’t going to use.
You bet your ass I printed it out. Gonna find a nice frame so I can preserve it and keep close forever. Hell, it’s only 15 words so I could probably get it tattooed on my arm.

I was pretty bummed that it didn’t gt picked up but in a weird way I am so pumped. Someone read my writing! Someone decided it either wasn’t their taste in writing or it was absolutely awful. It oddly fanned my flames. I want to write more. I want to get onto a website that I don’t control. I mean, if I can get printed I would be through the damn roof but let’s start smallish.

Since then I have submitted two more things. One to the same site that originally rejected me and one to a different site. I have also been trolling other sites looking for work. In the mean time I have been drafting up a few throw away pieces just for funzies.
I’ve heard people wanting to pitch things to the Onion so I toyed with that idea…

Mitt Romney Enjoys Bubble Baths

…for 2 minutes.

Of course this blog has taken 3 days to write. Why? One family emergency, new cats in the house (not permanent, much to Tetra’s delight), chores and, who am I kidding, watching X-Men: Fist Class. Again. HBO, please stop showing that movie. I HAVE THINGS TO DO DAMN IT.

So here I am, trying to be a writer. Well, I run a blog and I have a rejection letter. I’m on the right path!

The words I honestly sputtered in panic to Phedre while in line to meet Wil Wheaton today at Origins Game Fair:

“Oh crap! We are close! I’m going to have to talk to him. What am I supposed to say to him? I’m going to say something weird and socially awkward. He’s going to look at me like I’m a spaz. What if he comments about my scarf. What if he wants my scarf? I’ll give it to him. For free. Hell, I’ll give him the scarf and $20. I’d stand there smiling if he set it on fire. Crap, now we’re closer. WHAT WILL I SAY?! Oh look! I can buy his book. Problem solved!”

Luckily I didn’t panic (too much) and he actually complimented my scarf. There is a picture Phedre took of us talking. He complimented the scarf, I looked like I was about to hurl in excitement. As I have explained to many people, getting accolades for your craftsmanship is a heart warming moment. Wil Wheaton praise? HEART ATTACK MOMENT.

I fear my idol worship is spiraling out of control.

PS I wrote this out Sunday and I can’t find a way to make this sound like I’m not a drooling nutbag. This is the exact reason I shouldn’t meet people I admire. I’ll just sputter out half a word and then be convinced that we are going to best friends forever.