Tag Archives: Things That May One Day Kill Me

by | February 17, 2012 · 10:24 am

Scenes from the 6 Train

Ok, I can’t lie to you guys any longer. I miss the C Line. I know, I know. But it’s like Stockholm Syndrome, where the relationship was so bad that – now that I’m out of it – I miss the control it had over my life. I miss the 1.5 hours it took to go the 6 miles from work to my apartment. I miss the woman who asked me every day if I could get up so she could sit down. I miss the Angry Engaged Couple and I wonder what they’re doing right now. Do they miss me? Has their relationship ultimately led to their untimely demise? There’s no way of knowing.

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Filed under Around Town, Oh Baby It's a Wild World

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by | January 28, 2012 · 3:43 pm

Deportation: It Can Happen to You

Or anyone, really.

So I’m a little behind on my news because I moved and I have no internet in my new apartment (Time Warner comes on Tuesday and then I’m going to be killing life people) and work has been crazy and well, that’s it really. But I was recently reading this story about a teenage American girl who was erroneously deported to Mexico in May 2011 and was just let back into the States in January. This may sound extraordinary to some of you – implausible, you may say – but I am here to tell you that the line between unassuming American citizen and being arrested as an illegal alien is very thin. I should know.

Like any plucky and enthusiastic teenager, I made my parents take me to the DMV the day I turned 16 so I could get my learner’s permit. What a day! After years of driving my parents around town illegally I was finally going to have a piece of paper to hand over to the police when they pulled me over. I could not have been more excited.

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Filed under About Me, The Funny Thing About Family Is That You'll Always Be Related, WORST Things Ever

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by | January 17, 2012 · 9:31 pm

Birthday Blog Post!

Kelly's second birthday. The battlefield.

Yes, the rumors are true. I’m now 28-years old. I remember one Jessica Simpson, in her prime, some may say, telling her parents that she was upset to be turning 23. Because it was almost 25. Which is almost her mid-twenties. Well I’m kind of upset to be turning 28, because it’s almost my 50s. Yes, this makes sense to me.

Twenty-eight felt very heavy to me, and I couldn’t figure out why. I usually don’t worry about my age too much, except for my 20th birthday when I had a serious meltdown, and when my mom asked why I told her it was because I knew I was never going to be a professional tennis player. I’ve never played organized tennis, and I’ve never been very good when I’ve tried. But for some reason I knew that 20 was the cutoff for any dreams I might have about winning the Grand Slam or returning a Venus Williams serve without it literally making a tennis ball-size hole in my stomach. Twenty is just too old to try to do something like that. Man, that stayed with me for days.

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