Silent Night, Deadly Night

I worked today. I drank at work today. A few hours into my shift, my boss asked me to follow her to the storage room. I thought I was in trouble. Once inside, she hands me a ramekin, keeping one for herself. She tells me to lock the door. She laughs and fills her ramekin with some box wine we use to cook. She spills. "God I'm so drunk," she says. I fill my own ramekin and we cheers. She tells me I can come back to the storage room as much as I want today.




What I learned today:
1. My boss is an loud drunk.
2. I cannot get drunk off of shooting wine from ramekins.
3. Working on Christmas is bullshit.

Happy Christmas

...and here's a little extra holiday cheer...

I read Hungover Owls instead of my horoscope



“Is it on fire? Then I don’t care. Please go away.”

If you like this here, then you will like more here:  http://hungoverowls.tumblr.com/

Whimsicalities of Me (I come up with my titles after my compositions.)

Dear anniemosity,

I no longer want my name here to be my name completely connected to The Galvanized Kite alter ego of mine of cool shit I find, but alas... I sigh... Alas... Sigh... Alas again.... Alas... Sigh. Sigh.

I am conflicted. I feel like I have been censoring myself. Not just in the realm of blog spilling but in blogging in general. Maybe a little outside in the world life too. You see I have this thing about me, I am honest. Fucking honest most of the time as much as I can be in time, and I think about all the times life for me has erupted or eclipsed (like tonight) and how I just let the Universe be me and do what it does with what I am or am not or what-have-yous in it. Alas... I'm using alas as apprehension or as concern.

My intentions are never to create waves of brutal destruction or negativity or anything bad, but to create waves none-the-less. I like a calm beach. I like to spend all day building castles on it. Then I like to watch the tide rush in and toss that structured sand around revealing swirls and spirals cascading back into what it was before, but changed because every speck, every crystal, every muddled down fleck of limestone, every tumbled to almost nothing agate or diamond is changed just by its change in placement. Change in perspective. Sort of like monks and mandalas.

So my conflict, do I out right be myself, who ever that happens to be to who ever happen to be receiving, like I said its perspective. I am not the same Kimber to you as say the Kimber that Sugar knows. So do I really want to choose to change my name in different locations or do I just let the location and circumstances and the viewer or the reader change what that name means (my name) to them.

The conflict though, by putting my very own name on something I feel almost like I have to take responsibility for others perspectives. Me. Myself. Kimber, the identity I associate totally me with. Say I divulged that after a night of drinking I was able to make a guy fully ejaculate twice within one minute, someone might say, holy fuck awesome, how were you able to do that, but on the other hand my dad would have a heart attack if he read that. Oh alas.... Alas...!

Is this conflict making sense to you? I wasn't quite sure what exactly it was when I started typing a few minutes ago. I know that I addressed this rant to you because you are the creator of this space we spill in and hence have control of how we are listed. Plus, you have always been a person of ease to talk with.

So maybe I don't want to change my name. Maybe I just want to feel more comfortable with how I'm perceived. How I am perceiving. Maybe my real conflict here is that I feel changed by every haphazard breeze, and time moves and flows and rushes more consistently than air itself, so by the time I alas and sigh time has changed again, I have changed again. I am a castle, I am a swirl and a spiral, I am the wave that changes everything, and then changes everything again and again.

So it's true I no longer want my name to be the same, but after sorting through these thoughts that are now out there and can't ever be completely deleted, I realize perception and time and waves and life change whatever me is in always. I am never the same, with or without association.

So I will sign this with my name, whatever one that happens to be to you today,

Kimber

Breaking and Entering

Father I have sinned. Tonight I came home and realized how much I miss the combo of drinking/smoking. So...I knew the apartment next to ours was empty. I knew the apartment next to ours could be accessed through the window. I knew no one would be in there at this tima night. And here I am; smoking and drinking and watchin' my hulu cue. Am I badass or what? Oh, I brought my cat too. I guess I'm half ass, bad ass. This was pretty easy and not a huge risk. Whatevs. I got a new place to feel like I live alone. Is you jealous? There is a picture I want to post, but things aren't really working out for me.

Chicken Wings

Good Morning all.... yes, it is technically morning. Although, I'm sure we all don't really consider 1:55am to actually be morning.

This is my first blog post and I have decided to write about possibly the best thing in the entire world at this moment: CHICKEN WINGS.

Chicken wings might actually be God's greatest drunk invention. Who would have thought that wings of a chicken would be so delicious?? I would like to note that the best wings I have ever had are from Sweeny's in St. Paul. Personally, I like the teriyaki the best. They are crispy, deep fried and delicious. If you have not yet experienced the Sweeny's "flamingo (but actually chicken) wing" extravaganza I recommend you get off your computer NOW and bus, drive, walk, shuffle, leap, padebure your ass over there immediately for the best tounge-sensation ever.

I may be drunk. But I know my food. Seriously. Chicken wings.

Mysteries

So I had a fair amount of wine last night. Before I went to bed, I poured myself a large pint glass of water. I woke up in the middle of the night, dehydrated and desperate, frantically pawing at my nightstand for my water. It was nowhere to be found. Assuming I'd find it in the morning, I coaxed myself back into a dry and uncomfortable sleep.
This morning it was the first thing on my mind. Not only did I require a large glass of water absolutely immediately, but I wanted that exact glass of water. I had concluded a few hours earlier that I had left it in the kitchen, but it wasn't there. Perhaps I had set it on a bookcase in the living room while turning off lights? Nope. It was quite literally nowhere.
I stood in the middle of my apartment, completely lost. I poured the water... and then what??
My new glass of water tastes much fresher than the lost one would have, to be sure, but it's much less satisfying, as my quest ended in a depressing feeling of confused disappointment.

Dear Drake,

Sugar and I want to try your crownsmos.
Love, Anniemosity.
PS: Say hi to Martha.

hangover kitty.jpg

crownsmos

what better to do on a snowday than clean out your freezer.

get creative

today after a winter trek to true thai for some pad thai

we decided to mix up some crownsmos and play a classic game of charades

Inspired by martha stewart herself

2 parts chilled crown royal of course any of your favorite canadian whiskey could be subsituted

1 part triple sec liqueur

splash of cranberry or cherry kool-aid if your in a pinch or snowed in.

Shake vigorously i prefer a chilled glass (this evening i chose holiday themed glasses)

Enjoy!

IMG00279-20101207-0101.jpg

This about sums up the Jameson Bartender's Player Hater's Ball

*ucking right.

This is what made me feel like I could do nearly anything tonight.

(You can't really seen the rhinestones on the cape, but they're there.)

Not foxy. Not foxy at all.

Believing you are nearly a super hero and deciding to rearrange your furniture (your very heavy furniture) at 2am all by yourself makes for a giant cluster cuss!

Looks like I'm going to fall asleep with the entirety of my nightstand, including lamp in my bed.

Speaking of cuss... I think I shall sigh in my defeat with Fantastic Mr. Fox.

...Until I get help with my sideways things.

Oh P.S. I totally made it rain in here earlier today. Maybe I'll post a picture of what I mean by that once this disaster of space is over.

Mobile blogging = moblogging?

Can I drunk blog from my phone at spoon river on my break? I had a drink with female libido tonic in it. Wish me luck on my next shift.

The Secret Bitches

Did you miss me? Just spotted, a very under the weather Sarah (or should we say Madeline) guzzling France's greatest export with her long lost Anne (A.K.A. Sophie). Will they run away together with their beloveds? Or only make it as far as the windy hipster? Only tax returns will tell... Until next time,
Xoxo