My senior year in highschool, I snagged the role of Mrs. Paddy in 'A Curious Savage'. She was a mean lady who wore a constant scowl and had monologue after monologue listing everything she hated.
"I hate everything in the world, but most of all I hate....."
Everyone said the role was perfectly cast.
Fast forward 13 years.
The Mrs. Paddy in me today would have a very short list. "I hate everything in the world, but most of all I hate Christmas shopping."
I really do.
I love to give gifts, but Christmas shopping scares me. So I hate it.
This is a hatred that stems from the days of me buying dollar store pearl necklaces and magnetic checkers that I knew no one really wanted. A hatred that evolved into making coupon books for my mother of things that I never wanted to do but felt obligated to fulfill. A hatred that today creates in me a fear so strong that the very thought of it makes my hands shake, my throat constrict, my nose hairs burn, my armpits sweat and my butt clench.
I have never shopped on Black Friday, I can't make lists of what to buy people without hyperventilating and I immediately delete my Mom's after Thanksgiving "what would you like santa to bring you this year?!" and week before Christmas "Call your Mother." texts.
So this year I waited and panicked, confided in friends and strangers that I hadn't even begun to shop, and today, the day before Christmas at noon, I walked out of my house and into Christmas Eve.
It was absolute mayheim. And I have never experienced a joy so complete.
People were EVERYWHERE. Making left hand turns on red lights, not yielding for pedestrians, swerving into parking spaces that others had been waiting for, skidding to a stop in the middle of the street to drop people off, parking in spaces designated for pregnant women, cutting in line. And with each violation, my understanding grew.
When you shop on Christmas Eve it's every man woman and child for themselves. Survival of the fittest. Get in, get out or get out of the way. If Lane 5 opens, it's for whoever gets there first. Sorry lady who's been waiting in Lane 4 for 20 minutes, you shoulda moved faster. You lose. It's ruthless.
And so I got my head in the game.
T-minus 5.5 hours and counting.
Best Buy
I needed a gift for my nephew. He likes giftcards so I hit Best Buy, grabbed one and got in line. One employee hollered that he was opening a register in electronics. I made my move. Dipped out of line, skirted a slow mover and raced a guy in knee high rainboots to the finish. I lost. No worries. It was all part of the game.
Rainboot Man was putting his money away a little slowly so the employee yelled over his head at me:
Him: "Hey! Ma'am! You buying a giftcard?"
Me: "Yes"
Him: "How much?"
Me: "Twenty."
Him: "That's it? Twenty? You know they go higher right?" slow moving rainboot man chuckled
Me: "I said twenty."
Him: "Okay. I respect that. I'll let you slide."
Me: "Thanks?"
Him: "Merry Christmas!"
Ha! The nerve! I was walking on air.
The Bank
I love going to the bank. Especially one where I don't have my accounts. There's something reverent about it. Churchlike. I'm always quiet and eager and meek. I do exactly what's asked of me. With a smile.
Teller: "You out shopping today?"
Me: "Yep. I waited until today to start."
Teller: "Honey, me too. I always wait to the last minute. I love it."
Me: "This is my first time, but it's great!"
Teller: "Girl, honey, ain't it good?! But there's always somebody who don't know the game. Like they
wanna walk in the door and look left and right like they don't know where they are. I'm like
Honey this is not the time! What do you need? Let me direct you! Apparel is to the right, jewelry
to the left and lingerie straight ahead, but you got to MOVE. I've even been behind people and
yelled GO! GO! GO!."
Me: "You're my hero.
Department Store
I didn't find the gift I was looking for, but on the way out saw a gray sweater dress that was on sale so I grabbed it thinking maybe it would do for someone else.
I stood in line looking at the people around me, women holding clothes, men holding candles, a child kissing a life sized statue of the Virgin Mary, and a lady who kept hollering "IS THIS THE LINE FOR RETURNS?!" even though no one was responding. Bliss! In the midst of my joy, I decided to try something new.
RegisterLady: Hi. Will this be all?
Me: Hi. Merry Christmas. Yes, I want this, but I don't want to pay this price.
pause
RegisterLady: Fine. I'll give you 10% off, but you can't return it.
Me: Deal.
It was that stupidly simple. I was so high I nearly skipped to my car.
I finished shopping with a celebratory sidewalk dance outside of H&M at 5:30. I figured I must be some sort of Christmas Eve shopping genius.
On my way to the grocery store I talked to my friend L. She was telling me about her cool Bowie-like art rock band idea when I interrupted her.
Me: "I don't know if I'm going to church tonight."
L: "Well, you are kind of out and about."
Me: "It's not until midnight."
L: "Oh. No, I don't go out after cold."
I love L.
We hung up and my Catholic guilt set in. This couldn't be it. Shopping, deciding whether or not to go to midnight mass. It seemed empty. I got out the car in the rain and said out loud, "This really can't be it. Like, really." While I was walking a man walked over and said "I'm hungry. Will you buy me some food?"
Without even looking at him I began muttering something about not having anything, when it dawned on me that going to church meant nothing if I ignored the "church" that was standing there. I agreed to buy his food.
"I want chicken and a 3 liter soda!" he hollered.
He took his grocery bag from me with hands covered in mismatched wet gloves, inspected the contents and without looking up said, "God bless you young lady."
I replied and, maybe for the first time this season meant, "Merry Christmas."
Merry Christmas.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
HEARD.
The people quoted below have two things in common, they're all adults and they're all people I spent time with during the last 7 days. With the exception of two intials, their identities were not recorded and will not be revealed.
For a week I decided to stop all unnecessary chatter and listen to the people around me.
This is what I heard.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I hate the smell of scent-colored markers."
"Well you don't have to wear bells, unless you want to."
"How am I supposed to know what I do at work all day?!"
"I may have to take these shoes back. It sounds like they've got gas or something."
k: "I am kind of quiet. I don't know why."
j: "It's your blood type."
"I'm supposed to be a Robert Palmer girl, but I can't stop smiling."
"Anybody dumb enough to put paper on my desk deserves what they get!"
"You'll love tomato soup. It's a vegetable."
"I don't know what it is about today. I'm just sad."
"He loved our story so much he sent us 20lbs of meatballs!"
"That's the great thing about having a big butt. It holds the door open for you."
"I have a winter coat. But I have fingerless gloves."
"I've never seen so many pot roasts go flying by!"
"I like to have milk with my cake. Or beer."
"Everybody wants my eyebrows!"
"You don't have to get married to have plates."
"Yeah I'm Jewish. Can't you tell? Just look at my ass."
"If you don't shave, you have to wash."
"I'm stuffed. I need to gusset my shirt."
"I haven't had any orders from like, Nevada. You know, where prostitution is legal."
"It's really cold out, but I'm trying to decide if it's all in my head."
"Nobody's looking at your itty bitty booty."
"Maybe I lost a sentence somewhere. I don't know."
"Everybody vomits."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kilah: "I love the people in my life."
For a week I decided to stop all unnecessary chatter and listen to the people around me.
This is what I heard.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I hate the smell of scent-colored markers."
"Well you don't have to wear bells, unless you want to."
"How am I supposed to know what I do at work all day?!"
"I may have to take these shoes back. It sounds like they've got gas or something."
k: "I am kind of quiet. I don't know why."
j: "It's your blood type."
"I'm supposed to be a Robert Palmer girl, but I can't stop smiling."
"Anybody dumb enough to put paper on my desk deserves what they get!"
"You'll love tomato soup. It's a vegetable."
"I don't know what it is about today. I'm just sad."
"He loved our story so much he sent us 20lbs of meatballs!"
"That's the great thing about having a big butt. It holds the door open for you."
"I have a winter coat. But I have fingerless gloves."
"I've never seen so many pot roasts go flying by!"
"I like to have milk with my cake. Or beer."
"Everybody wants my eyebrows!"
"You don't have to get married to have plates."
"Yeah I'm Jewish. Can't you tell? Just look at my ass."
"If you don't shave, you have to wash."
"I'm stuffed. I need to gusset my shirt."
"I haven't had any orders from like, Nevada. You know, where prostitution is legal."
"It's really cold out, but I'm trying to decide if it's all in my head."
"Nobody's looking at your itty bitty booty."
"Maybe I lost a sentence somewhere. I don't know."
"Everybody vomits."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kilah: "I love the people in my life."
Saturday, December 5, 2009
"Kilah...You are a quirky girl!"
Buckle up. Quirky doesn't happen overnight.
The Beginning
The cat was evil and it lived under our house.
We were city kids and the elementary school decided it was a good idea to introduce us to the perks of rural living. So we grew chickens. For weeks we watched our eggs in an incubator until the first little beaks poked through the shells. After a few days we each got one to take home.
I named my chick Cluck-Cluck.
The relationship betweend Cluck-Cluck and I was consistent and predictable. I fed him. He pecked me. I changed his water. He pecked me. I pet him. He pecked me. I squeezed him. He pecked me.
I loved that chicken.
After a few months passed and he had grown from a tiny yellow chick to a 12 inch yellow chick, it was decided that he needed time to run around the backyard. It was fenced. I was 7. And so it was.
One afternoon I came home, looked out the kitchen door and saw that the backyard was covered with yellow feathers. I thought maybe Cluck-Cluck had turned white.
"Grandmommy!" I exclaimed. "I think Cluck-Cluck turned into a rooster!"
"No." my Granny explained, "You know that old cat who lives under the house?
"Yes"
"Well, that bird was running all over that yard back there. He was having a good time! I saw that cat and next thing I knew those feathers were in the yard. That old cat ate your chicken for lunch. Now go on in the dining room and get your lessons."
And so it began.
Oh Be Careful Little Hands What You Touch
Not long after Cluck-Cluck was eaten, 7 year old Ki found a robin's egg under a tree. It was speckled blue. Because she was now an expert at hatching chicks, she knew she could do a much better job than its Mother and so she decided to keep it warm in her pocket until it hatched.
All was right with the world. Until she sat down. With her face frozen in panic and a heart beating so hard that her shirt was trembling, she made the most courageous decision of her 7 year old life.
She would keep the egg in her pocket and pray for a miracle at choir rehearsal. All the Singing Angels gathered on Wednesday nights. Little wide eyed innocents with sweet voices, singing without a care in the world.
Except for one little fallen Angel who, instead of singing, was praying for a miracle while dead bird ran down her leg.
Fast forward 24 years.
I love soft rock, 70's sitcoms, and lettuce. Burt Bacharach can do no wrong and I am Barry Manilow's biggest Fanilow. I collect records and postcards and my CD collection ranges from Annie to Eminem. I'm currently looking for the Sesame Street Live Gold edition.
Lettuce
I love it. I have always loved it. I will always love it. It hasn't always been good to me though. Seven years ago I went on an iceburg binge. I could easily eat two heads in one sitting. I did this everyday for about a month. The result was E-coli.
My love of lettuce left me with an E-coli infection so strong that it took two months and two rounds of antibiotics to keep it at bay. When the kidney specialist was called in for an evaluation, my system must have realized how ridiculous it was being and began to recover. My doctor made me promise to rid my diet of my beloved iceburg.
No worries. I just switched to romaine.
Eggs
About 5 years ago I developed an addiction to scrambled eggs. I couldn't get enough of their fluffy goodness. For dinner one night, I decided that I wanted to indulge in the biggest bowl of eggs that I had ever eaten, so I scrambled half a dozen.
I got about halfway through the bowl before I nearly puked. I didn't look at another egg for a year.
Lotion
When I apply lotion I only use the palms of my hands. I keep my fingers splayed back, out of harms way.
I am appropriately ashamed.
Implosion
Several months ago I was in the kitchen when I heard a whining squealing sound from my bedroom. I remember thinking, "What in the hell is going on on House Hunters? They must have found a really good one!"
I made my way back to my room to find that my television was imploding. The whining turned to screeching and I stood in the hall running in place hoping that it didn't cause a fire. A few sparks and pops later it was silenced forever.
I was too afraid of aftershocks to go back in my room so I popped open a bottle of champagne, sat on the upstairs landing and toasted the tv's demise by drinking every single drop.
Mazel tov.
Sleep
Apparently when I'm very tired I have a tendency to fall asleep sitting straight up on the bed leaning against the wall, with my eyes open.
My sister has come home, found me in this position and assumed I was dead on more than one occasion.
Once she said she found me sitting in my bed, remote in hand, with my eyes staring straight at her. So she stood in my door called my name and then threw a shoe at me to make sure I was okay.
Now that's love.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks for coming by, I hope you've enjoyed the ride. Please release your safetly belt and exit to the left of the vehicle.
Cheers.
The Beginning
The cat was evil and it lived under our house.
We were city kids and the elementary school decided it was a good idea to introduce us to the perks of rural living. So we grew chickens. For weeks we watched our eggs in an incubator until the first little beaks poked through the shells. After a few days we each got one to take home.
I named my chick Cluck-Cluck.
The relationship betweend Cluck-Cluck and I was consistent and predictable. I fed him. He pecked me. I changed his water. He pecked me. I pet him. He pecked me. I squeezed him. He pecked me.
I loved that chicken.
After a few months passed and he had grown from a tiny yellow chick to a 12 inch yellow chick, it was decided that he needed time to run around the backyard. It was fenced. I was 7. And so it was.
One afternoon I came home, looked out the kitchen door and saw that the backyard was covered with yellow feathers. I thought maybe Cluck-Cluck had turned white.
"Grandmommy!" I exclaimed. "I think Cluck-Cluck turned into a rooster!"
"No." my Granny explained, "You know that old cat who lives under the house?
"Yes"
"Well, that bird was running all over that yard back there. He was having a good time! I saw that cat and next thing I knew those feathers were in the yard. That old cat ate your chicken for lunch. Now go on in the dining room and get your lessons."
And so it began.
Oh Be Careful Little Hands What You Touch
Not long after Cluck-Cluck was eaten, 7 year old Ki found a robin's egg under a tree. It was speckled blue. Because she was now an expert at hatching chicks, she knew she could do a much better job than its Mother and so she decided to keep it warm in her pocket until it hatched.
All was right with the world. Until she sat down. With her face frozen in panic and a heart beating so hard that her shirt was trembling, she made the most courageous decision of her 7 year old life.
She would keep the egg in her pocket and pray for a miracle at choir rehearsal. All the Singing Angels gathered on Wednesday nights. Little wide eyed innocents with sweet voices, singing without a care in the world.
Except for one little fallen Angel who, instead of singing, was praying for a miracle while dead bird ran down her leg.
Fast forward 24 years.
I love soft rock, 70's sitcoms, and lettuce. Burt Bacharach can do no wrong and I am Barry Manilow's biggest Fanilow. I collect records and postcards and my CD collection ranges from Annie to Eminem. I'm currently looking for the Sesame Street Live Gold edition.
Lettuce
I love it. I have always loved it. I will always love it. It hasn't always been good to me though. Seven years ago I went on an iceburg binge. I could easily eat two heads in one sitting. I did this everyday for about a month. The result was E-coli.
My love of lettuce left me with an E-coli infection so strong that it took two months and two rounds of antibiotics to keep it at bay. When the kidney specialist was called in for an evaluation, my system must have realized how ridiculous it was being and began to recover. My doctor made me promise to rid my diet of my beloved iceburg.
No worries. I just switched to romaine.
Eggs
About 5 years ago I developed an addiction to scrambled eggs. I couldn't get enough of their fluffy goodness. For dinner one night, I decided that I wanted to indulge in the biggest bowl of eggs that I had ever eaten, so I scrambled half a dozen.
I got about halfway through the bowl before I nearly puked. I didn't look at another egg for a year.
Lotion
When I apply lotion I only use the palms of my hands. I keep my fingers splayed back, out of harms way.
I am appropriately ashamed.
Implosion
Several months ago I was in the kitchen when I heard a whining squealing sound from my bedroom. I remember thinking, "What in the hell is going on on House Hunters? They must have found a really good one!"
I made my way back to my room to find that my television was imploding. The whining turned to screeching and I stood in the hall running in place hoping that it didn't cause a fire. A few sparks and pops later it was silenced forever.
I was too afraid of aftershocks to go back in my room so I popped open a bottle of champagne, sat on the upstairs landing and toasted the tv's demise by drinking every single drop.
Mazel tov.
Sleep
Apparently when I'm very tired I have a tendency to fall asleep sitting straight up on the bed leaning against the wall, with my eyes open.
My sister has come home, found me in this position and assumed I was dead on more than one occasion.
Once she said she found me sitting in my bed, remote in hand, with my eyes staring straight at her. So she stood in my door called my name and then threw a shoe at me to make sure I was okay.
Now that's love.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks for coming by, I hope you've enjoyed the ride. Please release your safetly belt and exit to the left of the vehicle.
Cheers.
Friday, December 4, 2009
It's All Pink.
I like Pink.
It's girly and soft and bright. And dark and sharp and heavy. It's joyful. It's miserable. It is hated. It is loved.
Pink happens.
In the the span of five days there has been fear so deep that usually strong legs gave, and a body that has stood through many storms crumpled. In the midst of that fear an unknown strength picked that body up, forced one foot in front of the other, stretched a mouth into a smile and put a voice in a throat. That body happily greeted dancers, talked to friends, gave tours, cleaned studios, enjoyed music. And in the privacy of its own space, that same body crumpled again.
Pink.
In the span of five days there has been elation so palpable that strong legs ran up stairs, danced on coffee tables, jumped on beds, and jogged through parks. A body experienced movement, hands created, arms hugged. A heart leapt with joy and cheeks ached from smiling. An unknown strength pushed away the fear and replaced it with a joy that was utterly complete.
Pink.
In the span of five days a girl has been surrounded by love. Friends that were clueless called, discussed, laughed, asked, borrowed, lent. Friends that knew drove, shopped, ate, smiled, advised, offered, didn't ask and didn't judge. They held on. Until it was time to let go.
And so to everyone, all that knew and didn't. Laughed and hugged. Danced and watched. Talked and listened.
Thanks.
You've been pinked.
It's girly and soft and bright. And dark and sharp and heavy. It's joyful. It's miserable. It is hated. It is loved.
Pink happens.
In the the span of five days there has been fear so deep that usually strong legs gave, and a body that has stood through many storms crumpled. In the midst of that fear an unknown strength picked that body up, forced one foot in front of the other, stretched a mouth into a smile and put a voice in a throat. That body happily greeted dancers, talked to friends, gave tours, cleaned studios, enjoyed music. And in the privacy of its own space, that same body crumpled again.
Pink.
In the span of five days there has been elation so palpable that strong legs ran up stairs, danced on coffee tables, jumped on beds, and jogged through parks. A body experienced movement, hands created, arms hugged. A heart leapt with joy and cheeks ached from smiling. An unknown strength pushed away the fear and replaced it with a joy that was utterly complete.
Pink.
In the span of five days a girl has been surrounded by love. Friends that were clueless called, discussed, laughed, asked, borrowed, lent. Friends that knew drove, shopped, ate, smiled, advised, offered, didn't ask and didn't judge. They held on. Until it was time to let go.
And so to everyone, all that knew and didn't. Laughed and hugged. Danced and watched. Talked and listened.
Thanks.
You've been pinked.
Friday, November 27, 2009
For the Love of Thanksgiving
I love Thanksgiving.
I love that the weather gets colder and people seem friendlier. I love the commercials with perfectly set tables, perfectly groomed guests and perfectly cooked food.
I love that my family is nothing at all like that.
I love that every year we set a dinner time that no one adheres to. I love that by the end of the night my Uncle B will have taken out his teeth and put them in his pocket. I love that some years he doesn't bother to wear them at all. I love that every year during the blessing my Uncle C asks us to go around the table and state what we are thankful for. I love that every year we refuse.
I love that my Uncle G gets a kick out of lifting up his shirt to show us his overstuffed "yellow belly". I love that every year we watch the lighting of the Macy's tree together. And that every year there is a battle over which channel airs the program. "It's channel 2" "No! It's channel 5!" I love that every year the tree gets more crooked. I love that for weeks after the holiday we will eat turkey prepared in every conceiveable variation. Turkey sandwiches, turkey over rice, turkey hash, turkey soup, turkey salad...
I love that we draw names for Christmas gifts every year.
And that every year someone's name nearly gets left out.
Perfection.
I love that the weather gets colder and people seem friendlier. I love the commercials with perfectly set tables, perfectly groomed guests and perfectly cooked food.
I love that my family is nothing at all like that.
I love that every year we set a dinner time that no one adheres to. I love that by the end of the night my Uncle B will have taken out his teeth and put them in his pocket. I love that some years he doesn't bother to wear them at all. I love that every year during the blessing my Uncle C asks us to go around the table and state what we are thankful for. I love that every year we refuse.
I love that my Uncle G gets a kick out of lifting up his shirt to show us his overstuffed "yellow belly". I love that every year we watch the lighting of the Macy's tree together. And that every year there is a battle over which channel airs the program. "It's channel 2" "No! It's channel 5!" I love that every year the tree gets more crooked. I love that for weeks after the holiday we will eat turkey prepared in every conceiveable variation. Turkey sandwiches, turkey over rice, turkey hash, turkey soup, turkey salad...
I love that we draw names for Christmas gifts every year.
And that every year someone's name nearly gets left out.
Perfection.
Landing Zone
My sister's getting married. And for the first time in 29 years, she will belong to someone other than me.
Parents don't count. They just feed, shelter and clothe. They don't look alike, they don't share rooms and clothes and Barbies. They don't fight over who gets to sit in the front seat and who gets to go last at bathtime. They don't pull hair, poke eyes, pinch, or step on. They don't memorize movie lines, cartoon theme songs and commercial jingles. They don't tell you you're adopted or that sitting perfectly still in the backseat keeps the car from tipping over.
They don't know the song that's playing in your head before you sing it.
Parents prepare you to fly, siblings give you a place to land.
Congratulations to my sister. I'm the 3rd happiest person in the world tonight.
Parents don't count. They just feed, shelter and clothe. They don't look alike, they don't share rooms and clothes and Barbies. They don't fight over who gets to sit in the front seat and who gets to go last at bathtime. They don't pull hair, poke eyes, pinch, or step on. They don't memorize movie lines, cartoon theme songs and commercial jingles. They don't tell you you're adopted or that sitting perfectly still in the backseat keeps the car from tipping over.
They don't know the song that's playing in your head before you sing it.
Parents prepare you to fly, siblings give you a place to land.
Congratulations to my sister. I'm the 3rd happiest person in the world tonight.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Twas the Night Before Thanksgiving
It's late. Or early. Mariah Carey's Christmas album is blasting through my earbuds, the radio is playing Christmas carols so the cat won't feel left out and I'm playing air percussion between sentences.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Inside Out is a tad more personal but no less Kilah. Encouraged by Lee. Repeatedly. The Taurus in me was resistant but she has yet to have a bad idea. And so the blog begins.
Well, sort of. This is just the intro. I'll be writing frequently. The everyday craziness, normalcy, mishaps, joys, pains... Life. With as much honesty as I can muster.
Here you'll get to see it all from the inside out.
So Happy Thanksgiving all. I'll be spending the day with my great family. Enjoying the insanity, wishing I was anywhere but and never wanting to leave.
We'll see what wonderful ridiculousness the day brings.
Last year, we dropped the turkey.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Inside Out is a tad more personal but no less Kilah. Encouraged by Lee. Repeatedly. The Taurus in me was resistant but she has yet to have a bad idea. And so the blog begins.
Well, sort of. This is just the intro. I'll be writing frequently. The everyday craziness, normalcy, mishaps, joys, pains... Life. With as much honesty as I can muster.
Here you'll get to see it all from the inside out.
So Happy Thanksgiving all. I'll be spending the day with my great family. Enjoying the insanity, wishing I was anywhere but and never wanting to leave.
We'll see what wonderful ridiculousness the day brings.
Last year, we dropped the turkey.
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