Tuesdays are okay in my book.

Usually the day after I write an angry blog, I feel bad about it. I'm like, "Shit son, I need to get my temper under control otherwise people are gonna start calling me Ike."


You gonna get it.

I don't feel bad about what I wrote yesterday though. It still rings true today. But, I do regret letting one situation affect my entire day. I was upset throughout the day, but my friends and family came through and punched my bad day in the face. Punched it in the face with RAINBOWS AND AWESOME.

First, good ol' Thurber drew me a cake with llamas and penguins around it. Then, NE wrote a super sweet blog post that made me blush and smile wider and weirder than The Joker on crack. Some friends of mine showed me some b-day love on the Facebook, MySpace and Twitter. Mama D and Poppa D took me for the largest strawberry daiquiri I've ever had the pleasure of putting down the hatch. The Boy gave me a lot of laughs and blew my mind by ordering a little something called a pie shake. Oh, that's right, a pie INSIDE a milkshake. Someone needs to call Criss Angel because my mind has been freaked.


On second thought, don't. Nobody wants this.

I usually tend to focus on the negative instead of the positive. Like I said before, the bad things leave a bigger mark than the good. The thing is, my life is going well. Good and exciting things are happening. I've gotten used to always having something wrong, something to fix, that I don't really know how to react when there is nothing that needs fixing. I seek out problems instead of just enjoying all the good fortune that has come my way. Days like yesterday have shown me that it's alright to feel good about something. I'm not going to apologize for all the good things that have been happening to me lately and I'm sure as hell not going to seek out misery.

I'm starting a change today. I am purging myself of all the dead weight in my life. I'm taking a break from being meek and not defending myself. I am going to take concrete steps towards being a good friend. I am going to be more assertive and not feel bad about getting things that I want. I'm going to be a little bit more of a bitch, in a good way, of course. Why? Because it's about goddamn time, is why.

So, yeah. Suck it, Monday. There's a new day of the week in town.

What's the haps, broseph?

Fun fact: I heard someone say just that a few minutes ago. A grown-man, I might add. Wooooof.

I know I haven't been around these parts in a while, but it's because I've been learning one very important universal truth: having a life is exhausting.

Case in point, I spent Saturday night out at a "club" filled with "people my own age" and had a jolly good time. Whoops, that last one doesn't fit with the hip kid vernacular. I had a bomb ass, hip to the mother effing Twitter Facebook time of the Apple Bottom Jeans. That's all the cool terms I could think of.

As a result of spending the evening doing what every 21-year-old in the world does every weekend, I spent all of Sunday out of commission. I did nothing but eat Chinese food, sleep and watch old episodes of "The Office".

The past few days have been busy. My summer school classes are slowly sucking the soul (and a few hundred bucks for books) out of me, work is insane in the membrane and I have been a social butterfly with friends, family and an awesome, potentially meaningful boy situation.

So, because it's rare for me to be both upbeat and eloquent at the same time, here is a list of things I am currently grateful for. Here we go.

1.) Saturday nights. Listen, all the best stories happen on Saturday nights. Lampshades get put on heads, alcohol is consumed, laughably bad decisions are made and dancing is had. Saturday night is the night of the week every other weekday is jealous of. Do you think that anyone is hooking up with a guy who looks like Geraldo Rivera on a Wednesday or eating tacos from a hut on the side of the road on a Monday? Pashaw.

Saturday night marked an important evening. My pals Deezy and Papa J officially ended their time as roommates and my friend Thurber is in town for a few days before moving to Portland. Having a trifecta of friends in town, I decided it was only necessary to take them out and get them all drunk. So, Saturday night, our group headed to one of my favorite bars for a night of drinking and debauchery. It was a blast. I have some pics that I'll put up later, but let's just say the night ended with a few new acquired phone numbers, drunken rambling, smokey hair and tacos at 3 in the morning. Verdict: success.

2.) Baby Miles. M and Garland are six months along and I get more and more excited every time I see them. M and Garland are like pioneers; my own personal Magellan into the cloudy waters of adulthood. They've handled everything beautifully so far and it makes me happy to know that, in three months, they'll have a son to add to their family. And I'll have a nephew who I already want to buy everything for. Because the baby is a boy, poor M has had to endure this question over and over:

KV: If I bought you and the baby matching hats/glasses/shoes/bowler shirts, would you wear them at the same time?

The answer every time: a shrug and a "sure". That's all I'm asking for.

3.) Laughter. Alright, before you roll your eyes and vomit on me because I just listed "laughter" as something I'm grateful for (what is this, Chicken Soup for the Cheesy Ass Soul?!), hear me out. I have laughed harder and more frequently in the past week than I have in a while. I've been hanging out with a new boy and he has me in stitches non-stop. Red is fine tuning his own sassy brand of humor with hilarious results. Even Simon, that smelly tan dog of ours, has been cracking me up. I laugh a lot as it is, but this past week has been out of control. If I keep it up, I'm pretty sure I can get abs of steel just through the magic of laughter. Suck it, P90X.

I wonder if St. Patrick got drunk and sang along to Queen.

I was very excited to go out for St. Patrick's Day yesterday. I'm not Irish, but I do appreciate alcohol. I think that's all that's required in order to participate. And something about potato famine and civil war, but I don't know. I'm not a historian.*

Mostly though, it was my first St. Paddy's Day that I could go out to the bars like the rest of the drunkards. I was determined to make it a night to remember. And in many ways, it was.

My night ended up being a series of epic wins and epic fails and ended in my driving home sobbing while listening to classical music. Epic fail. Thus, I present to you my St. Paddy's Day re-cap.

Win
I felt pretty confident on my way out to pre-game at a friend's house. I found this awesome vest that I was pretty psyched to wear.

Fail
As soon as I got to my friend's house, I spilled Rolling Rock all over the vest.
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Win
I have a co-worker who does security at the bar we were going to go to. It was very crowded, since it was A.) an Irish themed pub, B.) right next to the state university and C.) it is common knowledge college kids will do almost anything to get shitfaced and not remember their own names. However, my co-worker said he could get myself and my friends in no matter how busy. Score!

Fail
We ended up going to another, still just as crowded bar where I couldn't flaunt my street cred. Although this turned out to be a win in the end.
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Win
We had to park super far away and I had to pee like nobody's business (seriously, it's none of your beeswax what goes on between me and my lady parts). You might think this should be in the "fail" category, but we stopped at a closer bar on the way to the other bar where the rest of our friends were to "use the restroom", and by that I mean we stopped to drink some green beer. Green beer, I should mention, that I didn't have to pay for.

Fail
After chugging my third glass of green beer, I felt my tummy do the "uh-oh, I think you might be puking at the end of the night" dance. I penciled in an appointment with Dr. Porcelain and his assistant, the bathroom floor.
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Win
I only paid for one drink the entire night. My friends were awesome and bought me the majority of what I consumed.

Fail
I eventually ended up on the dark side. I had a very intense conversation with a friend about how much I want to drive into the sunset because it would be neat and there's the off chance I might catch on fire.
KV: I think catching on fire would end most of my problems.
Friend: Yeah, except you'd be on fire.
KV: I guess you're right. I didn't think about that.
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Win
While waiting in the line to get drinks (for fifteen minutes! Christ!), a cute boy with green suspenders, a green t-shirt and a green top hat turns around to chat.
"Be honest," he says. "Is this ensemble too much?"
I instantly think yes, but it takes a man with rather large cojones to both wear suspenders over a t-shirt and say the word "ensemble" with a straight face. Also he is cute and I have been drinking and everyone knows that means I instantly wanted to make out with his face.
"No," I respond. "I think the suspenders add a certain amount of awesome while the hat says 'I'm Irish but not a dick about it'."
Did it make sense? No. Did the boy laugh? Yes.

Fail
The boy turned back to his group of friends and nuzzled up next to another gentleman. Damn.
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Win
I met some friends of a friend who turned out to be hilarious, awesome people.
This exchange happened:
Boy: Hey, my name is Casey.
KV: I'm KV.
Casey: KV, that's a rad name.

Fail
The rest of the exchange went like this:
KV: Thanks! After Hurricane Katrina, every new person I met asked how I felt about it because my name so closely resembles Katrina.
Casey: That's weird.
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Win
On the drive home, one of the new people I had met requested a sing-along.
"Let's listen to something by Queen or Selena!" she said. I think I told her I loved her.

Fail
I was so schwasted I botched most of the words to "Bidi Bidi Bom Bom". Seconds later, my Mexican card was revoked.
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Win
On the way home we stopped at Del Taco to get some food. If your night of drinking doesn't end with Mexican food, then you're doing something wrong.

Fail
After my friend had dropped everyone off, I started crying and telling her how much I hate my life. I was so anxious to get out of her car, get away from everyone and drive home that I forgot to grab my food from her.
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Win
I started the beginning of the night excited and optimistic, wearing awesome green jewelry and a sweet vest.


Taken super sneakily at the bank.

Fail
Like I mentioned, there was the business on the way home with the sobbing and the Bach. I came home, took off my pants, sent some mean text messages to some friends and called it a night. I woke up like I do most other mornings: having to pee and listening to my dog clawing at the door. Also I looked like someone put me through a trash compactor and smothered me in failure.


Nothing says I'm a winner in life like an oversized Rocky t-shirt.
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Aside from all the fails of the evening, I did have a lot of fun hanging out with some of my friends. There was, admittedly, some grade-A bullshit that took place, but the alcohol seemed to make everything not matter as much. I'd say the Irish are on to something there.

*Lies. Although here's a smidgen of truth: I'm lazy and still hungover. Hungover blogging not so great.