The Ex Factor


While you’ve all been busy celebrating anniversaries, planning your weddings, and reproducing, I have been working my way through the highest quality losers in San Diego. Just kidding I’m not that slutty. But I have done a bit of dating, and I’ve been trying to decide how I feel about being friends with exes.  Should you do it? Can you do it? How do you do it?

This is difficult territory, especially if you’re dating someone now. Most likely, your significant other (especially if they’re of the lady variety) will not be into you being friendly with your ex. I am one of these types. I trust most men about as far as I can throw them, and I don’t think there are any guys out there I can pick up. However, given the right amount of time, I can see how it’s not super threatening.

When I’m dating someone, I like to pretend that it’s a clean slate: that there are no exes, no “one that got away”, no lingering feelings, and that somehow I am now the most satisfying and adorable woman in their life. This thought fades away after about a week. Once you learn her name it’s all over people.

The dictionary defines friends as a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations. Do you fuck your friends? Like literally, do you have sex with them?  I’m sure my best friend Stephanie McDaniel wishes that were true, but alas, you do not bone your friends. Haven’t you seen that Justin Timberlake movie? I know it’s even scientifically proven that girls get all attached with sex, but I think it goes both ways. I’m no scientist; I just think men are more emotionally unstable than they let us know. If you are having sex with your ex you are not friends. I can’t tell you what the fuck you are, but ‘friends’ is the wrong word.

I have always been into the idea that once you break up with someone, they die. Obviously not actually die, but they are dead to you. Being cordial is nice and all, but I don’t see any good coming from saving numbers, remembering birthdays, or keeping in touch with family members. I have done a shitty job of sticking with this plan, but I bet that if I did, my life would be a lot less complicated.

Obviously you and your ex had a few things in common at one point besides each other. I’m sure you had fun together and still have some similar interests. Ask yourself: WHY do you want to be friends with this person? Are they that valuable?

Friends are the people in my life who pump me up, support me, make me food, text me for no reason at all, watch shitty TV with me, and make the world a better place (and I hope I do the same for them). If your ex is this person, by all means, be friends.

I can only assume that holding on to the past makes the future a little less clear, but what do I know?

If you really want to stay friends with an ex I’d ask Hugh Hefner, he’s super good at it.


Bad Habits


I couldn’t help but notice that the majority of my blogs revolve around me throwing shade at other people. Truth be told it is one of my greatest qualities- but I’ve decided to turn the mirror on myself and share a few of my more unpleasant qualities. If you can’t laugh at yourself, life is gonna seem a whole lot longer people.

1. Weird breathing: I’ve developed this habit where instead of immediately yelling “YOU’RE BORING” or “I DON’T CARE ABOUT THIS TOPIC”, I just take a much deeper breath (thanks a TON, yoga teacher training). While I would love to think this is a positive step, I’ve found that deep breathing bugs the shit out of people. I’m working on it.

2. Crying. I’m a crier. I always have been. I remember one time I got a Mary-Kate (or was it Ashley?) Barbie doll, and not two minutes into taking her out of the package, the teeny tiny button on her sweater broke. I immediately burst into full body sobs while my best friend Steph eased out of the door trying not to laugh. I guess I’m an emotional person, I don’t know. I cry when I’m frustrated, mostly, and that’s a lot.  I’m working on it.

3. Leaving my shoes in the bathroom. I take my shoes off when I pee. DON’T ASK ME WHY. I never thought this was a huge deal until I had roommates and they would complain about it all the time. And that one time I tripped over my shoes and fell into the tub and knocked myself unconscious. I’m working on it.

4. Attempting to abruptly fix problems. This may come as a shock, but I actually hate confrontation. I hate having bad vibes with people, or ugly tension, or weirdness, or anything like that. It literally makes me sick to my stomach. Because of this, I will usually end up taking the entire blame for things that most likely aren’t 100% my fault, beating myself up, and calling/texting people relentlessly trying to get them to forgive me. This also relates to my other bad habit….

5. Saying sorry when I don’t mean it. Being the eldest sibling I was always taught to be the “bigger person”. Since I’m really short I still don’t know what this means so I always just apologize, even when I don’t really feel that way. I guess I just feel like it’s a good way to defuse problems so we can get back to having fun. Sorry, I’m working on it.

6. Being a victim. Sometimes, when life is hard, I play really sad music and lie on the floor of my bedroom screaming “WHY ME” and, you guessed it, crying. I’ve also been cheated on by most of my boyfriends whom I also have cheated on. But you’ll never hear me say that. You’ll just hear me complain about men being cheaters. I’M WORKING ON IT.

7. Not hugging. I don’t like hugs. I don’t want to hug you. I don’t want you to hug me. Please don’t. I’m not working on this at all.

8. Loud drunk talking. I always thought everyone did this but apparently my already loud indoor speaking voice hits some new heights after a few cocktails. I’m working on this…?

9. Binge watching the Kardashians and everything on Bravo. I will never work on this.

10. Being flakey/indecisive/wishy-washy and everything related to those words. I blow off plans all the time. I’ve changed my career path at least a dozen times. I have 3 different certifications for completely different things. I don’t know where I want to live, what I want to do, who I want to be, if I’ve ever been in love, if I want a boyfriend, if I don’t want a boyfriend, sometimes I like kids, most of the time I hate them, sometimes I kind of like house music, but mostly I don’t, I go through phases where I work out all the time, then I lay in bed for 4 days eating Cheez-Its. Sometimes I’m really introverted but I can be really outgoing. I am the most confident and insecure person in the world. I am the happiest and saddest person ever. I love my blog. I hate my blog. I’m straight. I’m gay. I’m spiritual. I don’t believe in anything.

I am sincerely sassy and totally ok with it. Keep on keeping on, bitches.

A Brief Summary of Legends of the Fall


Not too long ago I read a hysterical movie summary about the movie Love, Actually. There’s this flick called Legends of the Fall, which most of you probably haven’t seen, but I’ve had so many conversations about it that I realized I could totally write a summary/review/rant about it like this other girl did. Maybe my calling is actually to be a movie reviewer? Anyway, with any luck this will be sufficient for none of you to even have to watch the movie (even though it’s on Netflix).

The movie starts the way all really meaningful movies do, with a Native American person doing a voice over. Do I remember what he says? No, but once you hear his voice and the intense drum music you’ll be like oh shit this movie is going to be about some deep stuff.

Legends of the Fall focuses on 3 brothers that are super close- the oldest is played by Aidan Quinn and he is just so obviously the oldest because he’s all responsible and has a bunch of long serious pauses. Oh, and gets blamed for everything. Brad Pitt is the middle brother and he’s edgy and rebellious and totally lovable. The youngest brother is that kid who played Elliot in E.T. and basically all I can say about him is that he’s an ugly virgin. They all live in Montana with some Indians and a few white ranchers, and their dad, who’s an ex-colonel, played by Anthony Hopkins. They have this insanely nice ranch and from what I can tell they just chill hard there all the time.

Grown-up Elliot returns home to the ranch (don’t remember where he was) with his fiancee Susanna. I guess the movie wants to present Susanna as a regulation hottie but she has big curly hair and smiles way too much so I wasn’t really feeling it, but again, it is all dudes on this big farm so maybe they’re just pumped to see a chick. Susanna gets out of the carriage and Aidan Quinn is all like boner town, and then Brad Pitt shows up looking all rugged on a horse and you can tell all that’s running through Susanna’s head is: fuck I totally picked the ugly brother.

There’s a few scenes of Susanna riding horses and being all active so we can see how likable she is. Brad Pitt asks E.T.’s best friend if he and Susanna have banged yet and he’s basically like merp uhh urrrgghh she doesn’t want to wait till marriage. AKA Susanna is horny and Elliot is insecure (not surprising).

I’ve never been much of a history buff but apparently there is a war going on. It is very apparent that the Colonel has raised his family in this secluded mellow ranch because he is against the war (and he also says he’s against it like a billion times). But Elliot (who’s name is really Samuel) wants to go fight in whatever war is happening instead of staying at home with his “hot” fiancee who is DTF. Since this family is just hell-bent on ruining their dad’s life all the brothers decide to go to war together to protect Samuel. Susanna is way bummed that her ugly fiance is going to war and probably going to die so she starts crying and Brad Pitt comforts her. Needless to say there is some serious sexual energy happening. Aidan Quinn walks in and totally spoils the moment and Brad Pitt and Susanna look SUPER guilty while A.Q. looks kind of bummed and like “always a bridesmaid never a bride” you know?

So the brothers head off to war and Susanna is stuck on this farm with a grouchy Colonel and some other farm hands to like, I don’t know, wait it out?

Long story short, Samuel dies in the war and Brad Pitt cuts Samuel’s heart out and rubs his blood all over his face because he hangs out with Indians and I guess they do that. He is obviously very upset about the whole thing, so upset, in fact, that he decides to bang Susanna before they’re even done burying Samuel.

Susanna is pretty happy because she obviously wanted to marry Brad Pitt from the beginning but he’s kind of fucked up now. Like he goes off for hours doing weird shit and almost kind of stabs Susanna in the middle of the night. There is a classic scene where Susanna is talking about what they should name their future kids and Brad’s just like uh what were you saying and she’s just like nevermind. We’ve all been there.

Brad Pitt can’t seem to get over Samuel being dead and he feels responsible for it so he goes on this journey (of self discovery?) and Susanna is like when are you coming back and he’s basically like not sure bitch and keeps packing his shit. Then she’s like if I was pregnant would you stay? And he’s like nah. Even the old pregnancy trick won’t work on this guy!!!

Susanna STILL STAYS AT THIS FUCKING FARM and waits for him. I think at this point Aidan Quinn has left to go to the city to get involved with politics because he is not so emotionally unstable.

So get this, Brad is gone for 7 years at sea doing all kinds of weird shit, and sends Susanna this letter that says “All we had is dead. As I am dead. Marry another” !!!!! But for some reason she hangs around the fucking ranch until Aidan Quinn comes back to visit and in a not very surprising turn of events, marries Susanna. At some point the Colonel has a stroke too, and he can’t even talk and writes answers on this little chalkboard and it is just all kinds of depressing.

Brad Pitt finally comes home and is like uh where’s Susanna it’s only been 7 years? The ranch people tell Brad she lives in the city with the last sane/alive brother left and Brad’s like oh well good for her and then marries the half-breed daughter of this couple that lived on the ranch (their words, not mine).

While this is a little bizarre, it’s really nice to see Brad happy again without blood all over his face. He and his new chick have some kids and things are kind of looking up again. Brad takes his happy little family to the city to see Aidan Quinn, who is like a congress man now, and Susanna sees Brad with his lady and kids and needless to say she’s pretty upset.

Brad gets into bootlegging to supplement his income and he gets pulled over by these cops and they fire some warning shots into the rocks but somehow a bullet hits Brad’s wife and she dies so of course Brad beats up the officers and gets thrown in jail. Susanna comes to see him because she just LOVES to stir shit up and tells Brad she loves him and that she wished his wife was dead so she feels responsible. Yeah Susanna you totally have that kind of power. Then she goes home and kills herself. I think I speak for everyone when I say ABOUT TIME.

Brad Pitt finally heads home and the family comes together by killing the shady cop guys when they show up to the ranch. Even the congress man gets a shot in. That’s how you bond in the mountains! Anthony Hopkins manages a double kill even with a stroke and whips out a giant rifle from underneath his kick ass bear coat. Everyone kind of reconciles after that and the Indian guy sings some Indian songs and fake-scalps the dead dudes. Standard.

Despite his issues, Brad outlasts everyone in the movie and lives to be an old man. The movie ends with him getting mauled by a bear.

THE END. Feel free to check out Legends of the Fall on Netflix or maybe even read the book so you can get smarter.

Ugly Duckling Syndrome


Hi world, it’s 2015 and this is the longest I’ve gone without posting a blog. I could spend a whole 50-100 words explaining why I took a month long hiatus but does anyone really give a shit? No, they don’t. So moving on.

I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of “Ugly Duckling Syndrome” or perhaps “Fat Girl Syndrome” but they are kind of like weird back-handed compliments that guys give to girls who they find attractive but aren’t aware of it. Basically, they’ll ask you if you used to be super ugly or super fat (or both) because you are currently a visually appealing girl who doesn’t have a horrible personality.

Here is where things get dicey. If I claim right now that I am a sufferer of U.D.S. then I’m basically saying I agree, I think I’m really pretty, right? But if I say that I don’t have Ugly Duckling Syndrome, then I don’t get to talk about how hideous I was when I was little and I’m kind of writing about nothing.

Every time I bring this up my mom gets SO mad because I guess parents always think their kids are cute, but I was such an ugly child. Seriously, if you haven’t reproduced yet, take a good long look at your partner and confirm if they (and you) have the looks (and traits) you really want to give to someone else.

I would like to call my hideousness a “phase” or “an awkward stage” but I really don’t think those words apply to how long this ugliness went on. First of all, I have giant, enormous teeth. For whatever reason, all of my baby teeth fell out of my face in like, one year, so all of my huge adult size teeth grew in at the exact same time. I looked like a shark/chipmunk hybrid with rows of large, crooked teeth. I have had 8 teeth pulled in my lifetime and my dentist still complains that all these teeth are always in the way. So anyway, I got a bunch of braces shoved on my chompers pretty early on, and they didn’t come off for 5 YEARS. They were complete with those horrible rubber bands that fly out of your mouth when you talk, and a bite plate that really enhanced my minor tongue thrust, giving me one hell of a lisp.

So yeah I know, every little kid has braces, no pity party for Kaley. However, I also had glasses. Since we weren’t really riding the money train, my thick, gold rimmed Walmart glasses would fall apart like, all the time and my handy dad would hot glue them back together. I basically had these lopsided specs on my face with hardened glue all over them. Hot.

The braces and glasses combo is rough, especially when you’re 10, but it’s not a total dilemma. The real kicker is when your dad takes it upon himself to cut ALL OF YOUR HAIR OFF into this disgusting crooked bowl cut. I also want to throw out that purple was my favorite color at this time, I liked to wear these purple overalls to school, and I guess calling people gay was super trendy around my youth, so basically I was a blind, toothy girl with a weird hair cut that was also rumored to be a lesbian. I am also a quarter Portuguese, leaving me with the darkest arm and leg hair you have ever seen on a small person. I don’t think I knew what “getting laid” meant around this time in my life, but I was certain that it wasn’t going to happen for me.

These things might seem minor now, but elementary school kids are fucking horrible, horrible humans and I went for a long time getting things thrown at my face, called some pretty hurtful names, and enjoying my Go-gurt in solitude.

I finally sacked up and stuck some contacts in my eyes around 8th grade. The braces came off my Freshman year of high school. My hair grew out, I got some high-lights, and somehow convinced the cheer coach to put me on the team. I don’t remember the first time someone called me pretty. I thought it would be life changing, because I had wanted to not be ugly for so long. But it wasn’t. It still isn’t. Sometimes I still look in the mirror and see that fugly little girl. Sometimes I still feel like her.

The most enticing part of being a sufferer of UDS or FGS is that you’re nice. The idea that attractive people can’t be nice definitely makes me chuckle, but that’s for another blog. It’s the idea that my outer “beauty” doesn’t hinder me from being a kind soul. This is not true. I am harsh, sarcastic, introverted, and even cold because I spent so many years being told I was ugly by a bunch of dumb kids. Taking the time to change my look was easy. Taking the time to develop a hard outer shell, a sense of humor, and an ounce of confidence was way harder. To say I’m a work in progress is an understatement.

For all of you who find this sincere sassy-ness funny, honest, or even something you just kind of relate to, trust me, that is WAY more important to me than hearing that I’m “pretty”. I’m just bummed it took me so long to figure that out.