Spring Break Was Of The Devil

Ok fine I'm a liar. I can't stop writing, camera cord or no camera cord.
I guess I'm going to be flying solo with this one. Thanks a lot Cordy.

Welcome to the week after the worst spring break ever. I kid you not.
It started out great. Dana's birthday was Monday (St. Patrick's Day!) and we got all greened-up and celebrated in true Delly and Kana fashion (eating and watching a violent movie, what else?). Then things started to go downhill.
Tuesday was celebrate-Dana's-birthday-by-going-to-the-Monterey-Bay-Aquarium-Day (yes, that is the official name of March 18th), which I was super stoked about. And then, terror struck. Migraine. All day. I couldn't even enjoy all the sugary foods we bought to eat while watching the fish tank. Which, I don't mean to say I didn't eat them. I did. A lot. My threshold for enjoyment was simply lowered. Although I did get some satisfaction out of watching the sunfish. (God, you have a great sense of humor making a fish that looks like it's already been halfway made into a sandwich).
Then Wednesday and Thursday tricked me. They lulled me into a false sense of security by thinking I wasn't really sick, just maybe a little under the weather. Then Thursday night...oh Thursday night. He came. The Flu. He came and bit me. Bit me hard. What a jerk.
So that's how the rest of my spring break went.
Lay in bed.
Don't eat.
Blow your nose.
Drink Theraflu.
Talk about dying.

Now, I just have the remnants of my congestion/lack of appetite as well as a Hitler-esque rubbed red upper lip to show for my spring break.
I hate my life.

I'm Depressed

I can't blog without my camera. I'm physically incapable of doing it. Technically, I do have my camera, just no camera/computer connecting cord. Until he's found...I can't do this. It's over.

New Blog Title

Now. As you may have noticed, I have retitled my blog. There were a couple of key factors um factoring into my decision. See, living in the Bay Area, and not really subscribing to the thug...err...thizz movement, I feel that the new title better describes my life here.
It's not necessarily just about my clothes though. It's really about the gangster (***gAngStA***) life versus the one that I'm currently living. Which is constantly wishing that I wasn't living now. Wait. I don't mean that suicidally. I just mean that almost any other 20th century time period (besides the 90's...ew) is more appealing than now. So Bowties...that would be me in my desire for the classics. Bandits...I think you can figure that one out. Chris Brown himself says it best:"You see this bandana hangin, that means I'm like a bandit. Like-like a bandit bandit."
"But Kelly...if you're not a gangster...how do you know that song?"
Like oh-em-gee grrrrrrrrrrl.
I'm not going to lie...I do like to occasionally bust out the rap music. But the fact of the matter is...it's not my lifestyle.
And just as an aside...I'd take Cary Grant over Brad Pitt ANY day of the week...and twice on Sundays.

***iM oUT bEezIEs***

Doctor Doctor Give Me the News

I seriously am always sick. I've grown used to my chronic flucoldallergia, but sometimes it just knocks me on my can. This past week all I did was shuffle around my house mumbling something about dying. The real worst part about being sick, though, is that once you get better, it feels like you have to start your life all over again. I missed classes, didn't clean my house-more specifically my room, which looks like the Wild Rumpus came through-and basically have 14 trashcans full of tissues waiting to be taken out to the trash. I just don't understand why I get sick so often. I eat tons of fruits and veggies now, I wash my hands often enough- but not with too much anti-bac soap, which apparantly is bad now?- geez. what is my problem? Maybe I just need to stop associating with other sick people. Maybe we need to get back to the days where we quarantine sick people. Bring back the leper colonies! Except for Cold people. Coldeez. Wait. That's some kind of drugstore something. Coldists. Ok my brain is still congested...I'll come up with a more clever name later. *blows nose*
I suppose it could be worse. I could have strep throat...for the fourth time...
or I could have the chicken pox...
or get a snake in my boot...
or have my nose fall off like the Sphinx...
or have to wear Art Fern's toupee'...
or be force-fed lima beans. which as cliche' as it is...are disgusting.
I'll just have to stop complaining and go clean my room.

...yeah right...



And just for clarification's sake...this is the Wild Rumpus.

Aren't they adorable?

and Art Fern...one of Johnny Carson's characters.

This is the only picture that was somewhat non-blurry...and it's blue. What the heck.

Ode to Apple

World, meet the Perfect Apple.
Perfect Apple, meet the World.
How deliciously you view the World.
Full of optimism and juicy sweetness.
Untainted by the conniving worms of the world.
But alas, you may be bruised.
Beasts may take a bite out of you until all that's left is your tender core.

How sad.
But how absolutely tasty you were.
Mmmmmmm.



R.I.P. Apple. 2/17/08

Cowboys and Indians

Ok let me just start off by saying:
Yes, the term Indian is currently politically incorrect. But seeing as I am neither in politics, nor in possession of vast amounts of time in which I am able to write "Native Americans" repeatedly, I will be using the term "Indian" to refer to those wonderful people who are known as "Native Americans."

I recently came into possession of an Urban Outfitter tunic tee featuring a Chief and some bison and hills and other things that I can't really tell because, well, I'm wearing it right now. And as I was getting dressed this morning (skinny jeans, new shirt, plenty of teal jewelry), I reached a dilemma. Do I go for the boots or the pseudo moccasins? I love my boots and they'd match the western apparel, but is it a conflict of interest? Do I wear my moccasins? Is that too costume-y as Michael Kors would say? I tried on one. Then the other. One on each foot. Lift one foot. Lift the other. Finally, I asked my sister. She would know what to do! She said a definite no on my boots. They look like elf shoes.
That cinched it.
Boots it is.


And here's the shirt:

And my cheesy mcgee outfit:



just as an aside, no I am not 12 feet tall.

And also...I didn't use the term Indian as I thought I would. Go figure.

school is for fools

What exactly are you supposed to do on a day off? no school. no work. just a giant abyss unfolding in front of you. absolutely endless opportunities to catch up on homework, get some spring cleaning done...OR take the less traveled- and by far more fun- road. pull out your parents' old vinyl records and dance the day away. i periodically take inventory of my parents albums (since you know those records that they accumulated 20 or 30 years ago tend to multiply during the dark days they're alone together), just doublechecking which artists i still love, which i newly love, and which need to be immediately placed back into their cardboard cover never to be seen again (think poco. don't get me wrong...poco's great, but after listening to all TWELVE of their albums...that about enough poco for me thanks.) but there really are some winners in those two album boxes.
newfounds:

time peace: the rascals greatest hits


rod stewart's a night on the town.
(who knew they had that album?)
this is the one with "first cut is the deepest" on it.


stillgreats:

beatles box album from liverpool
all of their albums really...but this one encompasses pretty much all of them.


george benson's give me the night


heart's dreamboat annie

this is what my living room looked like.
oh and i was cutting out more magazine pictures for my bulletin boards, hence the massive amounts of glossies on the floor and table.
oh AND that album on the top is bonnie raitt's sweet forgiveness.



all in all...a rather successful- and oh so productive- day.
so go bust out some old records and experience the bliss.