A Guide on How to be Kait While Hanging Out with Many Guys

Step 1: Flirt shamelessly. With everyone.

Step 2: Have awkward conversations with some of the people you flirt with when they want to take it farther, but you do not.

Step 3: Go on blind dates.

Step 4: Fall for the wrong guy, all the while remaining friends with the nice ones.

Step 5: Go home for the summer. Do the same thing. Then come back to school.

Step 6: Repeat.

EEK!

I haven't written in forever. Sometimes I forget. And I get really busy. And then I have to make excuses to you guys. Besides the title was also the name of my pet rat when I was 14. Oh, wow. So long ago.

So. Updates. Still single, but I have discovered that a girl should not go on a date with one guy, then go on a date with another guy from the same fraternity. Bad plan. Which I now know first hand. And leads me to wonder why girls are sluts and guys are "the man?" Even if I DID NOT SLEEP WITH A SINGLE PERSON ALL SCHOOL YEAR. Okay, it got close once or twice. But it never happened.

Okay. That made me feel a little better. So does the wonderful ocean breeze. I'm currently on vacation in the Outer Banks. So wonderful and relaxing. Or, it would be relaxing if it weren't for the fact that I have not been home since early January and currently have most of my worldly possessions in this temporary home. With twelve other people. Actually, those people are currently demanding that I get ready to go out to dinner, so I will continue this update later.

Love Always,
Kait

My Really Angry Letter

I swear to goodness, the next person who comments on my blog with the spamming and just general grossness will be shot. Survivors will be shot again. Well, if I had the ability to do so, and I knew I could get away with it, I might. So instead I am writing a really angry letter. I do not want porn, or graphic pictures, or nastiness, or advertisements. It is sick. It's not that I have anything against porn or graphic pictures or advertisements, but there is a time and a place. My blog is not the time or the place, you wingnuts!!! See that? Three exclamation points. This is not a good sign. NEXT THING YOU KNOW, IT WILL BE CAPITAL LETTERS AND BOLD PRINT. But I am not that angry. Yet. It could easily happen, however, if someone were to ignore my warnings about being shot multiple times, if only with rock salt. And if you think that won't hurt, then just imagine having to wash all that salt out of your wounds. Why do you think we keep a shot gun loaded with it at my house?
Love Always,
Kait

PLAYBOY PARTY

Come celebrate G, B, and K's birthday
guys 5 bucks, girls free
beverages will be available
costumes highly recomanded
girls dress as sexy as possible

Few rules
-respect the house
-no smoking inside the house
-stay inside or outback (if you go in the front my neighbor will shoot u)
-no strangers (must know someone who knows the owners of the house)
-Act STUPID and you will be kicked out
-Have Fun and Enjoy

Yeah, fuck you. You want a costume party, fine. But do not fucking tell me how to dress. I understand that I am in college, and I understand that an adult costume party is different than the one I went to when I was 10. But instructing me to "dress as sexy as possible"? I will dress as sexy as I am comfortable with, and in this crowd, that means NOT VERY MUCH.

Remember about the part where my school is over 80% male? Well, I do. I checked out the confirmed, maybes, and nos on the facebook event page. Less than 1/4 of the yes and maybe groups were chicks. And this is with well over 200 people. They've even invited girls from neighboring colleges.

Facebook is extremely convienent. I found out that several creepy stalker-types are confirmed guests. Whoops, I just remembered, I have to stick my hand in a blender Saturday night. I don't want to miss that. Too bad I won't have time for this party.

Maybe I just prefer to keep my dignity in tact. I like the ability to hold my head up on this campus, thank you very much. Maybe, MAYBE, if I was a senior and I knew I would never have to see most of these people ever again, I would consider it. But I have 3 more years on this campus, and being know as a party girl just really isn't on the agenda.

Don't get me wrong, I like parties. Toga parties, ABC parties, regular old keg parties. But this just does not have a male equivalent, not in this environment.

So sorry boys, you'll just have to do without me on this one.

Love Always (but not really right now because this pisses me off),
Kait

Egos...

I can't decide if it sucks more that I got the cold shoulder, or that I know that I completely deserved it. It gives a girl things to think about.

Maybe this will stop me from burning so many bridges...

Quitters are losers most of the time...

But not me. I have made the decision to quit smoking. Actually, I am on day number 5 with no cigs. Okay, okay. Maybe I cheated once and took a drag off of roomie's cig, but just a little one. The true test will be tomorrow, when we finish off the beer sitting in her trunk before she flies back the next day.

Do I have the willpower to drink without smoking? I hope so.

That's all I really had to say tonight. Other than my motivation behind it all: really cute awesome boy doesn't like smoking. Well, he's not the total motivation. I do want the ability to play a whole rugby game without feeling like I'm dying. And now I really am done this time.

Love Always,
Kait

What's New?

A new roomie for one. She's a cool chick to hang with, but a little hard to live with, or maybe I'm the one that's difficult?

So what's the issue here?

For starters, I like to take my time in the mornings. This means I get up about two hours before class starts. I eat, drink a pot of coffee, shower, and put on my face in that time. Added in here is looking at the ceiling and checking Facebook. Roomie, however, prefers to get up 20 minutes before class, and has asked me to not turn on the sink light. Actually, she is currently napping. I gave up on trying to do my homework after that. I refuse to turn off my music though. Anyways. Ever tried putting on eyeliner in the dark? Well, if you haven't, here's some free advice. Don't.

Second issue is in choice of alcoholic beverages, since we share. Miller Light v. Coors Light. Tequila v. No Way In Hell.

Well, there are other issues, but I don't want to sound like a whining bitch. On to other subjects.

Rugby = fun on game day, evil painfulness for the next four days afterward. I was rookie of the game Saturday. Drank my beer out of a bucket all evening. Good times.

Guys. Oh boy. First of all, I have decided to quit encouraging them to talk to me. It just leads to headache. Like that guy I kissed who has a girlfriend in France. I didn't know about the girlfriend until after. For some reason he thinks I am willing to overlook this little fact and spend a weekend in Orlando with him. It's almost funny.

There is one guy, though. The cute, funny guy who moved out of his parents' house, lives in a clean apartment and is responsible enough to keep a dog. I am willing to encourage him.

Class. Different profs, same bullshit. Although Daddy promised $100 for every A I get, but they have to be straight A's. $600 total. Needless to say, I am studying and doing my homework this semester.

Tell me what y'all have been up to!

Love Always,
Kait

Attention Muffin Warrior:

Your next mission is to copy and paste this until you see it again. Only then will the Cookie Queen be released from her vegtable prison. Good luck. The future of CANDY LAND rests upon thy shoulders!

That is my mission, courtesy of mysterygoogle.com.
Oh, the joys of being bored. This is great. I shall do this more often!

Sunlight? What is that?

Since all my classes have finished, my daily schedule has been shot to hell. The nights that I don't party until two, three, four o'clock are filled with late night movie marathons. I was up until seven the other day, just watching gun-filled movies (told you I go to a school filled with guys!).

I should get to cleaning up sometime. My room has to be inspected. Fun times. I will get charged if it's messy. Actually, I get charged to do anything around here. Charged to do laundry. Charged if I play my music at the wrong time. Charged if my t.v. is too loud. Charged if I put a tiny dent in the wall. I'm surprised they don't have pay toilets here as well.

I need to see if S made it back last night as well. He wasn't done when we left the party. So maybe this is an awful post. I'm rambling. Good thing it's Sunday and I don't have an exam today. That could have been bad. Maybe I'll try to write again when I can form a coherent paragraph.

Love Always,
Kait

Rainy Days

Rainy days are meant for fire places, cuddling, and good books. And don't forget a nice hot coffee, tea, or hot chocolate. Sometimes this is all one needs in life.

But sometimes, rainy days happen and thousands of college students are stuck in dorms, attempting to study for finals. Sometimes, their cuddle partners are off god only knows where, and they are left in their depressing rooms, watching tiny t.v.s and drinking their coffee alone.

But I'm not bitter, oh no. Well, maybe a little. But one day, I will have all those things that I talked about, and I will be happier than a bird with a french fry.

So it's time to study. Calculus is just so much fun. Not really. I'm a terrible liar. Until next time!

Love Always,

Kait

Been A Little While...

But I have a reason! I promise. Actually, multiple reasons, come to think of it.

First, I had a huge business presentation. Massive, 30% of my grade huge. And one member went on a cross country flight (damned aeronautical school) and got stuck because he went out when a cold front was coming through, so we had to do all his work and present without him. The rest of us weren't exactly thrilled.

Then, I agreed to help some fellow students start up our own think tank. We are garnering support from faculty and staff left, right, and center. It's going to be good. Now we just have to convince rich people to part with some of their cash and support us.

And now? FINALS. If you are or have every been a college student, then you know that stands for F*** I Never Actually Learned This Shit. My next one is on Saturday, and it's math. This university just murdered Saturday. Now, how on earth am I supposed to go out for one more night in Daytona when I am expected to know how to do derivatives and integration? But maybe that's the point. Fun killers.

Plus I still have to clean my dorm room. I might be getting a roommate next semester. Knowing my luck, she probably won't speak English, hate country music, and have a bad taste in clothes. My last roommate was pretty sweet, actually. Probably because we are both so similar. We are driving back most of the way together as it is. Fourteen hour drive. Fun times.

So I should probably start on the cleaning or something. I mean, I probably will just sit here and watch T.V. shows on my laptop, but still, I'll write again in a few.

Love Always,
Kait

Dear Tattoos

Dear Tattoos,

I have come to the conclusion that I am addicted to you. I have just one (pictured above), but I want more! So, so many more. What have you done to me? I'm planning more, about four right now. A lower back piece, two side pieces, and one for below my neck on my back.

This cannot be good.

To tell you you truth, the only things holding me back right now are funds and location. The funds part is pretty obvious to explain, I go to a very expensive private college and I'm flat broke. The location? Well, I'm in Daytona Beach. It's a vacation spot for college students. When it comes to tattoo shops down here, they appear, well, a little sketchy. Besides, I know the shop I go to back home, they do good work, and they keep their place clean. That's what I look for in a good shop. I've been going there for piercings since I was fifteen. It works for me.

In other tattoo news, my mom might be getting a tat! I'm kinda psyched for this, not gonna lie. I always think it's awesome when grown adults break out of the mold that has been set. Now, my ma isn't that old, but she grew up in a household that will likely have a heart attack when they find out I have a tat, let alone her. It's gonna be great!

Now, to all those who are thinking about a tattoo, please, please, please, do not rush into it! Find something you really like!

As a final note, I would like to blame tattoos and other body modifications for being the reason why I am broke. Bored? Plan a new tattoo. Got two hours to kill? Drive to the shop and get a few more piercings (true story).

Love Always,
Kait

So...

Its been a while. Unfortunately, I had the mother of all "infections" in my computer. Trojan horse. Actually, I had two of them, imbedded in various parts of my laptop. Which has me beg the question: why?

A computer virus can be harmful, yes. But all these seemed to do was run ads. Actually, I still hear these stupid ads run, but can't find them to shut them off. All I can tell you is that I will never buy Mucinex or Lysol products. Ever.

It's enough to make a girl go nuts. Pop-ups and ads and noises when all I really want to do is listen to a little music and tell y'all about what's going on. Talk about!

Okay, I feel a little better now. Anyways... I joined the women's rugby team. So much fun! Being an Ohio girl, I've never even seen a rugby game before, but that doesn't matter. The others tell me what's going on. And seeing as how there aren't many girls, we practice with the guys. Can you say yummy? Okay, not all of them, but enough of them. And sometimes you need to get up close and personal with them... Now isn't that fun?

Today, we left my business class to watch the shuttle launch. We made jokes about how that would only happen at an aeronautical school like ours. You could actually see the boosters fall right off, and that's about where it dissappeared from sight. Now, I'm not a huge NASA nut or anything, but that is pretty impressive. I mean, the amount of power that had to be putting out... It's just crazy to think about.

Well, I'm off to enjoy the gorgeous Florida weather!

Love Always,
Kait

It Has Happened

Oh, dear. I fear it has happened to me. My friends will hate me. My family will think I am insane. My neighbors will shake their heads when I come home. I will be shunned on Friday nights.

I have become a paranoid city person.

Okay, not really. But it feels like it sometimes.

Old life: My car was never locked, my garage door broken and held in place by a piece of wood, and the only reason my windows were ever locked was because it kept the heat in better.

New life: I stare at the door, freaking out before deciding to lock the deadbolt, the nearest grocery store is on a four lane road, and I have used a taxi because the stretches of road here have people on them that I don't know.

I know I have already discussed missing my small town life, but I feel like I am truly changing. I think about safety so much more now.

Maybe its just knowing that crime happens everyday here. Back home, I'm pretty sure the biggest crime ever was a train robbery.

Yes, that's right. A train robbery. And the train tracks have been gone for years and years and years.

Well, there was that time our mayor got arrested for a DUI, called his wife, and she got arrested for a DUI because she was drunk when she came to pick him up. It made it on Letterman. Oh, and the drunk guy who smashed a two-hundred year old water wheel from the original mill. But other than that, no major crime.

I think its the calmness that I miss. Here, I stress. I have break-outs because of all the stress. It's not good for a girl. All my city friends are like, "this place is great! A little small, but fun."

Small? How is Daytona Beach even remotely small? Of course, one of them is from Houston. They have high schools there that are five times the size of my town, population-wise.

Another thing. I had never seen a "ghetto" in my life, until I came here. Yeah, I know, Cleveland, Akron, Youngstown, and Columbus all have them, but I'd never actually seen one. Those are scary place, my friends. And depressing. They are so crowded and run-down. I think if I lived there, I would fight tooth and nail to get out.

Actually, I'm doing that now. But its not the same. I don't hate the small town life, but I hate the thought of getting stuck there like so many people I know. Plus, lake-effect snow really sucks. There's never enough salt, the snowplows never go down my road, and, well, I'll probably talk about that in December when I go home.

Anyways, safety. I'm thinking about getting myself something like pepperspray or something. But I don't know yet. It seems like a good idea, just in case. I've never really had to think about things like this before. It's weird.

I think I've taken up enough of your time, at least for today. If anyone knows the best things for personal protection, they should definitely comment about it!

Love Always,
Kait

The Expo

Just thought I'd show you some of the employers I talked to on Wednesday. I'm most interested in becoming an Air Marshal, or going into the Department of State's Diplomatic Security. I talked to them both. Both jobs require going to a lot of different places, which I love. I'm leaning more toward Diplomatic Security because there is so much more in that career than sitting on an air plane four days a week.

I have also discovered the need for professional looking flats. I spent two hours walking around and being jostled in a pair of shoes I never meant to do much walking in. Being poor is not good when you need to look your best so you can get a job.

Speaking of being poor, I believe I have hit a new level of poverty. My parents said I've always been there, I was just blissfully unaware until now. This awareness has come from the fact that I go to college with a guy who owns his own helicopter. His daddy bought it for him. Can you say unnecessary? I mean, come on. A freaking helicopter? Okay, so we go to an aeronautical school. There are about 1,000 budding pilots on this campus. However, not a single one of them is learning to fly a helicopter here, because it's not taught here. So tell me again why he needs a helicopter?

And that's just one kid. While I have $30,000 in loans, others are driving brand new Mercedes. Guess this is what I get for going to a fancy private institution. I'll just have to make more money than them. Ha. Yeah right. Last I knew, Feds don't make that much. Oh, well.

Thanks for reading my ramblings!

Love Always,

Kait

Ah, The Joys of Becoming a Professional

My college specializes in the aviation industry. And so, career services sets up an expo so we, the students of this esteemed university, can meet with some of the top employers in our industry. I'm talking Boeing, Lockheed & Martin, Rolls-Royce, and several agencies from the U.S. government.

It is our job to put a resume together, be ready for any interviewing, dress professionally, and act like adults.

Hold the phone. Exactly what kind of resume is actually going to get me an internship with names like these? I'm 18 for crying out loud! As I was writing my resume, I thought of how ridiculous it looks. Job experience? McDonald's and Nike. Yeah, that is great if I'm applying for a job at the local mall. But for an internship with the Department of Defense? Think again, honey.

The interviewing I can handle. Along with the acting like an adult part. There are others at this college, however, that might not be able to handle such a daunting task.

That just leaves dressing professionally.

This is the type of corporate world that expects the best. This means employees should look the part. Men wear ties, and women never go sans nylons. Joy. I haven't worn nylons since the third grade. So off I went to Walmart to buy myself a new garter belt and stockings (I absolutely loathe pantyhose). After hunting down the undergarments section I finally find the things, only to discover that all they have in stock are backseam.

One word. Nightmare.

Oh yeah, they're sexy. But the headache of getting that seam straight is almost worth thumbing my nose at convention and going to the expo bare-legged. Almost. It's just too bad that I will really need that job after school and can't afford to alienate some stuffy recruiter for the sake of my sanity.

And so I will appear at the expo in my consignment shop dress and Walmart stockings on Wednesday, praying that someone might see my determination as a strong point and offer me an internship or co-op. I'll be sure to tell you how it goes!

Love Always,

Kait

P.S. I googled to find this picture and do not in any way own it or intend to infringe on the copyright!

Dear Sunday

Dear Sunday,

I enjoy, I truly do. When I think of you, I think of waking up and smelling food already cooking (I love you Ma! You too Daddy!). We eat, and everyone gets ready for church. We sing, we praise, we shake Pastor Gray's hand as we walk out. Then it's cooking out, running around with the family friends, and just generally having a wonderful, lazy time.

But now when I look around me, I realize that Sunday means doing all the work that I have put off for the week. Cleaning, laundry, research for class, and nursing the hangover from last night. Welcome to adulthood, Kait! Or maybe, welcome to college.

I always thought I would be older before I started wishing for the good times of my childhood. Apparently this is not the case. I miss the small town part of my life. Maybe that's what it is.

Living in a city is so...impersonal. I believe that is the word I am looking for. You can pass by people and not know who they are. They don't know that you once released 500 crickets into your high school, that you and your boyfriend broke up in a screaming match in front of the local Speedway. Have you ever seen a small town newspaper, the ones that publish all the tickets that were given out, and show, for all to see, the list of people who went to jail this weekend? I love reading those. And then there's the embarrassment when you realize that your name is down for going 25 miles over the speedlimit.

Another thing small towns have going for them is that the residents look out for one another. When I was younger my mom would let me walk to the local grocery store for a loaf of bread or some other thing she needed. And there were so many times that she was called by someone to tell her where I was.

Wow. The memories that a single day can bring up. I guess this post has shown me I will always be the small town girl, no matter where I am. Thank you, Sunday, for showing this to me.

Love Always,
Kait

All The Single Ladies Out There

My fellow single XX Club members, do you ever think you've found a great guy, only to realize he has a fault so huge that you cannot ignore it, but really want to? Well, I have once again come to this crossroads. Let's see what you have to say...

He's funny. He's in the Army ROTC program. He's studying to be a pilot. He likes to have fun.

And that, my friends, is where the problem lies.

He likes to have a little too much fun.

He says he can't stay away from me, and yet the only time I actually get a text or call is on the weekends, at two in the morning, after way too much beer and liquor.

The call is because he wants to "hang out."

Really? Does he really think I am stupid enough to go over to his room, where his roommate is, and "hang out?"

Last weekend, he wanted to appologize for waking me up. So he wrote a note on a post-it, and tried to stick it on my door. Too bad he missed my room by one floor and twenty doors away. Guess those concrete stairs are a little too hard to attempt after a frat party. But maybe it's the drunken thought that counts.

You know what, I am mistaken. Sometimes he does remember me. I got a text message a week or two ago that said, "are you mad at me? I haven't heard from you in a week?" Well, guess what, boy, I haven't heard from you in a week, either. Didn't realize you could only send text messages to someone until after they had sent one to you first.

I guess if it weren't for this guy's inability to call me while sober, I would be flying high. I think I have to just get rid of the tattoo on my forehead. Ladies, you know the one. It usually says something along the lines of "assholes, creeps, and stalkers apply here."

Well, I guess this little rant has showed me that I need to remove J. from my life. It really is too bad that his public face wasn't nearly and charming as his private one.

Love always,
Kait

The Irony Of College

I have decided there is quite a bit of irony in college. For instance, I need to skip class so I can get my four year class schedule approved. However, miss too much class, you fail. Which means your four year schedule is absolutely useless. And it is my first year advisor who must approve the next four years of my life. And a first year advisor is not your advisor for your entire first year. No, they give you a different advisor after your first semester is over. Odd.

On another note, I am having a party of one in celebration of finding my iPod cord today, complete with canned mac and cheese and granola bars. Although Dave too might be celebrating. Dave would be the guy whose cord I have been borrowing for the past month. He is not quite rid of me, yet, seeing as how I come to his and Jerry's room to watch t.v, since I myself do not own one.

As I sit here I happen to be looking at my lighter, and isn't it a shame that cigarettes are so hazardous to a girl's health? I miss holding that little cancer stick. It was... calming. I think this is something only another smoker would ever understand. It is so tempting to go down to the nearest WalMart and buy a pack, but I will perservere. After all, I do not wish to go through the removal of my esophagus as my grandfather did. No, thank you!

Ah, well. Time for my party. Hmm, I believe I will go with the musical theme "All Things Fun." Which basically means a lot of country and southern rock with a little techno thrown in, just to spice things up

Type to you later!
Kait

Dear Life, It Is Entirely Too Early

Dear Life,

I am back. The question is why. Why do I find it impossible to fall asleep at night? Why does my first class begin at 8:15 a.m? I do not like it, and I, as Queen Bee of Daytona Beach (or at least my dorm room) declare that it should be changed to something more my liking! Whether or not my executive order will be carried out is another story. Perhaps it would be easier if I just drank more coffee...

I have decided that living on a mostly male campus will, in fact, make me utterly insane by the age of 22. And folks, I'm talking 83% men here. It's not healthy. My best friend? XY. My group partners? XY. The people I sit next to in the airplane class from hell? XY and XY. It is not good for a female to be surrounded by so much male-ness. After all, who exactly am I supposed to complain to when my cramps feel like my uterus is ripping itself apart? (Lovely thought, that.) And who will hate the entire sex with me when a guy does something utterly stupid? I should join a sorority next semester. Get some girly time in.

As I currently do not have a roommate, and have not had one for a month or two now, I am curious as to how people go years living alone. Of course, I come from a large family, whom I adore to no end, but still. Perhaps these folks do not have strong family ties. If that is the case, then I am saddened. I, myself, have come to the conclusion that to live alone can be a lonely experience. Yes, I know, I live in a building with a bout 170 others, but still. Who do you talk to late at night? Who do you count on to eat that mac and cheese dinner with you? I IM my oldest brother quite a bit, and I constantly call my Ma and Daddy. And yes, I really do refer to them as such. Just can't quite get rid of that particular country habit. But I digress. My point is, perhaps it might be healthier for me to have a roommate, even though I have, in fact, taken over the entire room. Not that I am depressed. I am simply a girl, over 1,000 miles away from home, living in a massive tourist town. Wow, that sounds depressing. I need to go to a party.

Perhaps I will write again later, but for now,

Love Always,
Kait