I haven’t blogged in a very long time. I just opened my random Word document of potential topics to talk about in said blog. And now for my greatest trick of all, I will attempt to mold them together into some form of cohesiveness: therefore allowing me to start anew and reclaim my entitlement to blogging. In the next post. After you read all the drivel I had saved up.
In preparation for the new season of The Rehearsal, I was watching (at the time, pre-“Miracle Over the Mojave”) the season prior in case I needed to be up to speed for any callbacks. In one episode, there’s a trivia woman who blogs under the alias, “Cheap Chick in the City.” Nathan mentions how she hadn’t posted anything in over a year, which felt a little personal to me as a fall-off blogger myself. I think I fear exactly what Nathan outed this woman out for… Like people will judge me and think, “Ope! Kelsey hasn’t blogged in a while, she must not be as motivated as she used to be.” When really my only purpose for blogging is just to prove to myself that I continue to exist and that I’m still capable of self-reflection.
I also believe typing out my thoughts sharpens my ability to call upon four syllable words when I need them in my everyday life. For example, a couple months ago my downstairs neighbor was hitting her ceiling (my floor) with a broom, because apparently I walk too heavily on my feet: a sentiment I came to learn when she wrote me a Christmas card that explained how upset she was. Anyways, we had to back-and-forth a bit with the leasing office on the matter. And in an email I wrote, “If they are so CONTEMPTUOUS about living underneath me then maybe they should move to another unit.” No less than 3 days later, I found myself using the same word in a work conversation! The keyboard giveth and taketh.
But most of all, I like to blog because at the end I get to choose a meme that goes with the post – which in turn gets promoted on my Instagram Story and allots me credibility in the internet humor department.
I suppose I can’t relate to my downstairs neighbor because, in college, my roommate Pavlovian trained me to fall asleep and wake up according to the on/off setting on her desk fan. So contrastingly, I am unable to hear anything going on in my neighboring units when it’s time to settle in for bedtime. In order to be comfortable, I must have a wind turbine fan on HIGH and a white noise machine blasting simultaneously. And if I sleep away from home where there are no fan systems, I have to keep the Fan App open directly next to my head. The only advantage to this learned behavior is that – when Pavlov and I were both bridesmaids in our other college roommates’ wedding – we stayed together in the Air BnB and said “Double fan apps!” in the tone of Stepbrothers‘ “Good Housekeeping!” which is a core memory of happiness for me to this day.
[Deletes from the Word document: a couple paragraphs about fast food habits I had in college, plus mourning the Onion Bagel which is no longer offered at Dunkin’ Donuts.] We are now down to two pages left of topics.
[Skips over mention of movies I used to rent from the video store with my mom as a kid: one of which included Rockadoodle – which was basically Space Jam, but about a chicken that played music.] Make it one page.
I can’t seem to find regular rolls of Bounty paper towels at Target. They’re all ‘mega rolls’ that are ‘3 rolls in 1’. One time I accidentally bought those, and the rolls wouldn’t even fit on my paper towel holder. WHY do toilet paper and paper towels companies always have to be like “Ultra is 8 rolls in 2, but Mega 12 rolls in 4!” It’s like, how did we stray so far from the standardized paper towel roll size? I don’t know what any of this stuff is equal to anymore, and I’m scared.
[Lacks a smooth transition.]
I despise Free Stuff Piles. And I especially despise the people who create them – leaving a note and acting like it’s some noble deed they’re doing. No one needs your printer. We all print things at work. And you’re only putting it in a box with other random junk because it doesn’t fit down our trash chute and you’re too lazy to dispose of it properly. Not to mention, the box is a Sketchers Memory Foam shoe box, which you also didn’t want to break down or put in recycling. And now it’s sitting on that $30 Essentials by Target end table – the same one you couldn’t manage to sell on Facebook Marketplace.
Despite my above-mentioned complaints, I’m actually very non-confrontational. When it comes to fight or flight, I’ve always been a flight girly. And I don’t think that’s cowardly as much as it is less effort. I always think about how, if I found myself in a Walking Dead or Batman-type plot, I’d probably just flee the city. You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t move out of Gotham if there’s THREE movies about the terrorism happening there. I don’t care if Christian Bale is hot, the rent is probably high and my apartment is probably going to get blown up. I’m gone after Batman Begins.
But sometimes I exhibit fight tendencies! I recently told someone at work that if one of our colleagues sends me an ‘Invitation to Connect’ on LinkedIn but has never talked to me in person, I neither accept or deny the request and instead let it marinate. The response I got was, “So you’re holding them hostage…” and I thought that was a pretty cool way of putting it.
Future entries coming soon to a phone screen near you.
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