How Miley Cyrus Helped Me Embrace My Inner Conflicts

First off, here is my problem with Miley.

1. I am super creeped out by tongues.

I remember back in the day (2004-2008) when sticking your tongue out in photos was something that girls did. I was never a fan. Put that shit back in your mouth before you slobber all over everyone because I know you have no control over it. Ew.

Seriously, the Blurred Lines performance is a regular nightmare for me.

I would have brunch with the Girl from the Ring before I went anywhere near that Miley.


2. I love Draco Malfoy

When I was growing up, I had the BIGGEST crush on Draco Malfoy.

…I can’t.


3. If you’re going to say “that girl that’s rockin’ kicks, she’s gotta be from out of town,” wear fucking kicks. Cowboy boots are not kicks. They’re cowboy boots. 


4. The way she says “Lil’ Wayne”


5. She has jowls and I have a strange recurring fear that I do too.


Okay, so now you have a good understanding of my dislike for this girl and yet…and yet…Boy, do I love her music. Seriously, there is no better Party than a party in the USA. When I listen to the climb, not only am I ready to conquer every challenge that is facing me, but I am ready to actually climb a mountain.

Then, there is Wrecking Ball. What can I say except that I could live for days, alone on my floor, staring at my ceiling and belting I CAME IN LIKE A WRECKING BALLLLLL and even though no breakup has happened I’m HEARTBROKEN when I am singing that song. Like I may not be in any relationship but MY GOD I am ready to rip some guy to shreds because I’m goddamn HEARTBROKEN.

So, of course, the other night we forced our Lyft driver to play wrecking ball when we went out, and I found myself really looking deep into my soul. Yes, I was full of self-reflecting insight on my way to Divisadero. And I’m not just talking about checking myself out in the rear-view mirror. I’m talking real reflection.

How could I love something so much and be so appalled by the person performing it?

I always say that it’s because I’m a fan of her producers and song writers, but that justification only goes so far. In the moments when Wrecking Ball hits my 23-year-old ears, I. love. Miley.

And that’s when I realized it. This plays into the entirety of my life.

Every thought, action, and movement I have is riddled with inner conflict. I never love anything without hating a part of it.

Running: love endorphins; hate running

Food: love food; hate fat

Books: love stories; hate the first three chapters

Lord of the Rings: love the world; hate Wormtongue

Cats: Okay, well I just love cats


Anyway, all this insight and self-meditation was brought on by soon to implode, twerk lurkin, alien faced, Miley Cyrus.

So thanks Miley. I get it now.



I’m Severely WHAT??!!

I'm Severely WHAT??!!

So I took a Buzzfeed test to see how awkward of a person I am.

The result?

I got: You are severely socially awkward.

COME ON buzzfeed. Would a severely socially awkward person be sitting at home eating soup and drink Francis F. Coppola wine by herself while her socially acceptable roommate is out on a first date?

Crisis Averted (and I mean a MAJOR crisis)

Okay, so I went for a run and came home to find that the cable was still being totally unreasonable and telling me that the program would come back shortly…

Unfortunately that is exactly the way I left it yesterday evening. NOT VERY SHORTLY, CABLE. Learn to use your words accurately.

To make matters worse tonight is not just any night for cable television.

Tonight is the season premier of New Girl AND the Mindy Project.

As you can see, we are talking a MAJOR twenty-something girl problem. With a full day of work and six mile struggle of a run all I wanted was to come home, open a pint of ben and jerry’s, and watch Nick suck Jess’s face (and James Franco saunter his sexy cat lovin’ booty through the Mindy project).

SO imagine my horror at finding the television still not cooperating. That’s right. You CAN’T imagine the pain that I felt because it’s too big of a pain to imagine.

My roommate was sitting in front of her laptop with a face that mirrored my disgust with the cable company and told me that although our cable bill is set up for automatic payments, it had not gone through and so our account was delinquent…

Okay, well first of all, wouldn’t you think that if your cable account was delinquent the company would have sent a notice? Something along the lines of “hey customer, your account is a problem account and is being sent to cable juvenile hall.”

We didn’t get that.

Also, because I am a part of the “me…me…me” generation, I cannot understand a company that is not operating 24/7. Do those companies still exist?? I guess so because our cable company asked us to call back at the normal hours of 7am-7pm.

When we tried to pay our bill online, the page just kept refreshing.

AHHHHHH what were we to do???

Not even the fact that a young man had actually offered to pick my roommate up for a date (who does that anymore???? and isn’t it sort of depressing that a boy actually offering to pick you up for a date can make you stare at your phone screen in utter confusion because normally you have to either pay for a lyft…which I can’t afford because I spent all my money on two animal onesies…or take a bus and have to sit by that creepy guy who smells like old cheese and scratches at the hairs on his knuckles) could make us feel better because as you have probably figured out by this point we have no lives besides the ones we live vicariously through our television counter parts: Jess and Mindy.

But then…

Eureka. Olé. Light Bulb. Voila! It struck me!


You would think, having been born in a generation that loves our laptops like children (maybe that’s why Gwyneth named her daughter Apple BOOM BURN!), that I would have thought of this solution before, but sadly it took me a good hour (and a pint of ice cream later) to figure out that the page kept refreshing, instead of completing the transaction, because we were using Safari.

We switched to Chrome and thank the GOOGLEY gods, we GOT CABLE. Life is good! We can watch our shows. CRISIS AVERTED.

And that is a sad recap of a night of a twenty-something struggling in San Francisco.

Can You Out Freak Me? (Why I Have No Money)

Hey, so last week I posed the question: “are you a bigger freak than I am?” and then described my use of Irish music while running through Golden Gate park.

Now I’m here to throw the challenge out again.

Can you out freak me?

I currently have $100 in my checking account. This $100 has to last me a little over two weeks. How am I going to make that work? Soup. But more on the reason why soup is perhaps the greatest food (apart from pizza) later. Right now, we have to understand why I no longer have a plethora of cold hard cash, dolla dolla billz yo, moolah, dinero, MONEY in my checking account.

The reason is:

I just spent $140 on onesies. Yep, that’s plural. I bought two different onesies because well…I wanted to.

Normally, I am very good about saving money. I always make sure to transfer money into my savings account so that I don’t touch it. Alas, there came the day when temptation would overthrow my sensibility and I turn my hard earned wages over for the comfort of a cotton pajama in the shape of a kitten and unicorn.

So here I am, sitting on my bed, not really even disappointed in myself because I am wrapped in the warm snug of a unicorn onesie and I’m posing the question to you: Are you a bigger freak than I am? Would you spend nearly $200 to get the real deal Kigu onesies?

If your answer is yes, we could probably be friends but shouldn’t be because who knows what we would let each other spend our money on.

If your answer is “NO, you crazy girl. I would spend money on necessities like food and transportation and warm clothing that is socially acceptable to wear outside the house,” then I think we should probably be friends because I need words of wisdom to guide me away from this malpractice of wanting something because it is warm and a cat…BUT I don’t want to be your friend.

So alas, I am here alone (as it should be). #lonelygirl because honestly I don’t need a bad influence and I don’t want to hear good advice so my only friend is my computer and the television and maybe a book or two because sometimes I like to pretend I’m literate.

But really, have you ever made a purchase as rad as these?? I don’t expect answers because it can be hard to be honest with yourself sometimes.



Are You a Bigger Freak Than I am?

Are you a bigger freak than I am?

Nope. I promise that you’re not.

Here’s how I know:

I’m going to start posting all of the little things about myself that make me a bigger freak than all the rest of you out there who claim to be freaks and not geeks.

Here’s the first of them

So, if you didn’t already know, I’m a runner.

Pretty freaky, huh?


Okay, so most people listen to some kind of music while they run (some people don’t, but like those are actual runners who have motivation other than a strong desire to eat pizza and hotdogs on the reg. with out becoming obese).

I am one of the non-runner runners who listens to music. BUT not just any kind of music. I listen to Pandora.

You’re probably thinking, Kellen, that does not make you a freak.

You’re correct. Pandora is great. A lot of people listen to Pandora.

BUT do they listen to the St. Patrick’s day radio station EVERY time they run? Probably not.

Do they picture themselves jogging through the Irish country side, searching for their long lost love or even better their long lost brother stolen by the silky (seal maidens) in order to get the family to move back to the small island they were from Roan Inish? OR do they picture that they are a faerie (NOT a fairy) gliding through a nature wonderland?

If you tell me that this is a normal running method for someone you know. Please introduce me because I have found my gay penguin (Leslie Knope’s definition of a soul mate).

If you are instead wondering if you should perhaps no longer be reading this crazy person’s blog (and I’m guessing most of you are in that group) I would like to say…


I am a bigger freak than you are.

How You Should Be Spending Your Sunday

There are a great many ways to spend your Sunday afternoon.

You could spend it laying in bed, curtains drawn, calling out into the nothingness for advil and Jack-in-the-Box.

You could spend it wide awake, your nerves shot, staring at your computer screen trying not to think about the inbox of your work email.


You could have the perfect wine, nail, and football day.

NOTE: I want to say that boys should not feel that they are exempt from the joys of such a day. Let loose, drain a couple glasses of vino, indulge in your secret desire to learn how girls actually fit those globs of paint onto their nails, all under the guise of watching the football game. Here’s a little secret you may not know: some of us girls are actually participating in Fantasy football and do care about the game at hand so yes, we will actually be watching it.

Okay, so let me tell you why this was the best possible Sunday and why it will most likely become a tradition.

1. Wine. When can you ever go wrong with wine? With wine Sundays, you can experiment with different vineyards, colors, and flavors of wine. Also, as a young adult, there’s no time like the present to learn how to become a wine snob cue Sideways and Bottleshock; the latter is on Netflix aka BOOYA

2. Cheese and salami platters. Serves 8. Devoured by 4.

3. Football. It’s a game. There are balls. (hehe maturity)

4. A chance to fix those nails so that they no longer look like shredded cheese.

5. When else can we channel Ja’mie and not be judged because, well, when you’re hott you’re just surrounded by bitches.

So, it may not be the only way to spend your Sunday, but it sure is the best. Enjoy Wine, Nail, Football Sundays and enjoy your life.

Thank you, BUT YOU SUCK

1. Mark Zuckerberg.

Hi Mark. I’d like to start this thank you off by saying that you may not have been coming from a bad place. Maybe (and I hope this is the case) you started your little social network just to make it a little easier to get a little action. You haven’t ever talked to that guy in class, so you quickly poke him and BADDABING you two are an item. Awesome. Great. I’m all for it.

Here’s the thing, Mark. Facebook has changed now that I’m in my twenties. Now, whenever I head to my page, I am bombarded by pregnancies and marriages. I mean BABIES EVERYWHERE.

So, whenever I turn on my computer, Facebook is there to remind me that I am disgustingly single and have a fear of commitment that a twelve-year old One Direction fan would scoff at.


So THANK YOU, Mark. I really enjoy that.

2. My Body

Dear Body,

I’d really like to thank you for not letting me know that you can no longer process alcohol the way you did only a year back. Yep, I TOTALLY dug finding out by proposing to my toilet after a long night together. You really could have told me that shots were a thing of the past…

ALSO, I really appreciate the fact that, though my face still resembles that of an eighth graders, I now suddenly have to worry about bags and dark circles?? I had to buy under eye concealer! I wasn’t even aware there was concealer just for under your eyes until now.

So THANK you body. I really appreciate this.

I am sure there are more thank-yous to come, but as for now just 2 because it is already past 9 PM and that means