Christmas Cards 101

Dear Readers,

As you prepare your holiday festitivies, I wanted to offer some helpful assistance. I'm sure there are those on your Christmas card list to whom you don't know just what to write. Well, fear not, my festive friends, for I have provided holiday messages tailored for just that special someone. Go ahead: copy, paste, make these your own. You owe me nothing except undying devotion and your first-born child.

For the Muslim terrorist on your list:

"In the spirit of Christmas, we are giving you black Friday, pagan symbols and a month of vast materialism to use as future ammunition for your hatred."

For the bailed-out corporations:

"We hope your $600,000 holiday bonus courtesy of American taxpayers helps you finally understand the significance of 'It’s a Wonderful Life.'”

To your favorite Jewish friend:

“This year, I’ve decided to overlook your disbelief in Jesus when addressing my Christmas cards.”

To your friendly mail carrier:

"May the brightly-wrapped packages you deliver by the truckload not remind you of the absence of brightly-wrapped packages marked with your address."

To the drunk next-door:

“Here’s hoping you don’t pass out on rum-spiked cider until AFTER Santa visits.”

For the office flirt:

“We hope the office Christmas party gives you adequate reason to dress like a tramp, drink till you wobble and file a fresh 2009 sexual harassment suit.”

For the Wal-Mart employee:

“May you have better luck this Christmas than the customer trampled to death due to your cheap DVD players.”

To my insurance agent:

“At this festive time of year, we appreciate your generosity to those in need . . . except, of course, those in need who had three claims in 2008.”

To your most recent breakup:

“May the beauty of Christmas warm your heart, and also remind you that you will most likely die alone.”

To the odd relatives:

“As it’s Christmas, let us again acknowledge each others’ existence and chat briefly about vague and hypothetical get-togethers in the new year.”

To my readers:

"My you have enough self-awareness this Christmas to never use the above messages on any living person."

Turkeys overeating.

Thanks, Thanks, Thanks

In the excitement of the impending holiday week, I thought I would christen my November blog with a list of things I'm thankful for.

Originality, thy name is Kristen.

I am grateful that . . .

1. I live within a two-mile radius of Nordstrom Rack.
2. I have a nephew that I'm pretty sure is a Martian.
3. If I wear enough blush and style my hair just right in the morning, I can pass for not-a-boy.
4. Using only wide-leg jeans and 5-inch heels, I can create the illusion that my legs are impossibly long.
5. My sister's friends make me feel like I'm cool.
6. I have access to twins that never had to live in my uterus.
7. Pandora has an iPhone application.
8. Conor Oberst made a solo album this year.
9. No one was killed in my two at-fault accidents this year.
10. My insurance company was polite about our breakup due to #9.
11. The person hit in my second at-fault accident has finally stopped asking me out.
12. Cyber-stalker Kurt has not acquired my address or telephone number.
13. I somehow managed to get 3 free plane tickets to San Francisco last summer.
14. My friends are all wildly-attractive.
15. Costco is a very real and present part of my life.
16. My mother didn't disown me after I spiked her Diet Coke with Xanax.
17. The Japanese let us know that not cooking fish was even better than cooking it.
18. My siblings haven't told my parents I voted for Barack Obama.
19. Someone discovered cauliflower puree to replace mashed potatoes.
20. I have no friends with tricked-out civics.
21. A failing world-economy has given me lower gas prices.
22. I am never without a coupon for something free at Bath and Body Works.
23. My mom is a mom, not a BFF.
24. I got a fragment of my father's wit.
25. My brothers are the most handsome boys I know.
26. I have not yet been murdered by anyone I've dated.

Happy Thanksgiving, all!!

Libras on Parade

No satire here, people. October is for birthdays.

Stalker Update #1

Devotees might recall a certain "6'5",smellsgreat, engaging,laidback, educated, sensual, playfull" respondent to my Craig's List ad a few months back. This alluring Mr. K had previously solicited dinner with both my best friend and myself several years ago via MySpace when he responded to my innocent plea for a bed partner.

The plot thickens, dear friends, as I have now received the following message via FaceBook, and am left to wonder how many other ways random "smellsgreat" strangers might find to chat up young girls without being given any definite contact information.

So I post the following, for your reading pleasure, and as evidence (in the event that I go missing and the following "breadcrumb" is the CIA's one missing link).

"still not talking? hope your summer was good to you? it passes to quickly. what are you doing tonight? im craving cucnia tuscanos! ot tsunamis! lets get together for dinner and drinks., your time wouldnt be wasted. whats the harm?? ha (phone number removed)."

Truly, what IS the harm?

Swing Vote?

Recently I've been overwhelmed by the amount of political commentary aimed in my direction.Four or five emails a day fill my box, links to Newsweek or Fox News or some appeal to view Matt Damon's home video on YouTube. Text messages beg to know if I love Obama, hate Palin, am attracted to the John McCain of yesteryear, or whether or not you can really put lipstick on a pig.

Dear readers, I must say, the result of all this political pressure is making me feel terribly self-important. In fact, I feel that there is so much riding on my opinion that I am swiftly considering adopting five or six African children and dedicating my life to the UN.

That said, I feel that I should clarify why my vote should not trouble your sensitive political ideals.

Self-importance, though a trademark of mine, should be kept slightly lower than the national terrorist threat level. And if you wouldn't walk into an airport at red, you wouldn't want to hang around me at orange.

Decisions aren't my strong point, people. Those who know me well know I can barely decide whether I'm dating or single, blonde or brunette. I sway between law school and med school, mozzarella and goat cheese, and am too busy wondering whether to order from Nordstrom or Bloomingdale's to decide the best policy for foreign wars.

I live in Utah. The effect of my vote on the future of this nation is about the same as the effect of sex education on rottweilers.

I am ill-equipped to be a political spokesperson. While keeping up on current events (in the form of celebrity gossip and fashion trends), I get the bulk of my political information from Steven Colbert and Perez Hilton.

So, if you must continue to send me your political recommendations, I merely say: be forewarned that those appeals could be better aimed at someone a little more caring, slightly more intelligent, and a great deal more important.

Contact me directly for P. Diddy's phone number.

A Dark Confession on a Dark (K)night

It's true what they say--summer is a time of freedom: sunbathing, beach-frolicking, barbecues... and summer blockbusters. I generally embrace these activities with the energy and enthusiasm of Tom Cruise on an Oprah interview.

However, I feel that I have fallen terribly behind the herd this summer. And I come forward, filled with grief and humility to confess: I have not yet seen The Dark Knight.

Now my dear readers, before you make rash judgments, exit from this window or erase my number from your cell phones, I'd like to lay out my defense so that perhaps, after careful deliberation, you might find it in your hearts to forgive this painful and ridiculous folly.

The following will outline the reasons to which I have not yet partaken of the movie event of the summer:

1. I refuse to believe that Heath Ledger is dead. Or wears makeup.

2. I haven't had a rabies shot in years, and bats of any kind tend to overwhelm me with unease.

3. Christian and I are barely speaking these days.

4. I'm still bitter they cast Maggie Gyllenhaal over me.

5. No one invited me to the movie.

6. I recently saw Spiderman for the first time, and I'm sorry, but it was just a matter of too many superheroes, too soon.

7. I worried that seeing Batman save the world might lead to me engage in several fantasies involving Christian Bale. (Oh wait, that's just a typical Friday night.)

8. I can't risk being caught seeing a non-independent film.

9. I care too much about world hunger and curing cancer to participate in something as frivolous as movie watching. (If you need me I'll be at Nordstrom.)


So there it is, folks. You've seen my case. Make your judgments.

Inner Beauty

In an attempt to work on my character and spirituality, I have become slightly addicted to non-invasive cosmetic procedures. Those of you who have witnessed me lately, might notice a bit of weight gain---in the general directions of my lips.

Move over, Angelina.

Yes, I've become THAT girl.

So I thought I should "start spreading the news."

What's next? botox? eyelids? tummy tuck? Nobel Prize? the sky's the limit.

Sociological Experiment, Season 2

As some of you may know, I've been having a tiny problem sleeping lately. While in actuality I took the logical solution (a cashmere blanket and prescription sedatives), I thought I might see what the general public thought of my "problem." As it turns out, young (and old, sadly) men of Salt Lake City are INCREDIBLY selfless--ready to lend a hand at the drop of my ad.

After the healthy response of my last experimental Craig's List posting, I decided to pull out the stops and go for Part II, baiting my advertisement with a little more room for creepiness. For reasons unknown, my ad was flagged for removal by Craig's List, but survived an entire 12 hours of public posting, time enough to generate 167 responses. I give you the best of them.

The Ad:

(strictly platonic) Seeking Bed Partner - w4m

Seeking Bed Partner

No really. Due to extenuating circumstances of which our casual relationship will have no need of explaining, I just can't sleep . . . by myself. This is where you come in. Be charming, be handsome, be lovely -- just don't be disturbing my slumber. Sleep talkers, sleep walkers and snorers are strongly encouraged not to apply.

Me -- I keep to my side of the bed, wear cute pajamas and only occasionally mumble.

You -- Preferably sweet and unassuming with just the faintest hint of asexuality. Try to cuddle and I fear for your more prized organs.

My bed -- Queen, featherbed, coverlet, down comforter and 1,000 count sheets.

Duties include arriving around 11 pm, engaging in brief and formal conversation, and departing by 7 am. Warm milk and ambien available to the right candidate. This is me, and this is how I would like to be:

The Responses (a very select few):

B-- "You're a freak."

Kurt, email 1: "how about charming? 6'5",smellsgreat, engaging,laidback, educated, sensual, playfull, great sleeper!! hello! how are you? hope your enjoying your hot week? i think the sun we have been waiting for is finally here! i just need to be near a body of water around to really enjoy it! I definitely understand how you feel. no explanition is necessary. i do believe energy and connection is important.I mean i think most of us enjoy the comfort of being close to another. affection is healthy and good. its all about connection and energy which comes on many levels. im a unselfish person. and very giving. i believe its all about giving back! ha this is where i step in. i mean if you needed help with a car problem or needed a ride..or just a sleeping partner. im just good like that. im originally from so cal. im tall..and get cute and handsome a lot. so i would i have to say im handsome and cute. im engaging. (at least that is what im told!) charming,playfull,exciting. always can make anyone laugh and smile and feel better about who they are. i love life. im simple, boring, exciting. i love friends, family, cooking,smells (smells are important!), music,shoes..the simple things of life. but i do believe receiving 8 hours of sleep is important! im not a snoarer, not sleep walker or talker! i guess i was blessed! ha im sure i can help! great company. kurt"

Kurt, email 2: (note: I didn't respond) "hello! good morning.! how are you? hope you were able to get some much needed sleep?. sleep is very important! to our health and well being! one thing i love about utah. is that it cools down nicely at night. i love having the window open with the fan blowing. the cool air feels so good! I slept great! ha yes this is Kurt. the one that should stop writting. so i dont feel like a fool. what can i say, im just relentless! actually im pretty confident. so its ok. ha seriously though sleep is important. and we should meet up for dinner tonight. there are a few amazing restaurants i love. you wouldnt be dissapointed. and we would have an amazing time. charismatic,engaging,playfull,exciting and more. give me a chance. whatever you think aboout me. i can show you that you are wrong. kurt"

Shadowrider: "What a stupid ad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Pathetic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Todd: "You look like you need a professional massage. You right trapezius has a trigger point. I can see it in the second pic. Do you want to come to the spa today for a free treatment. Todd"

Mia: "You’re describing my husband! LOL" (my favorite)

Heyhey: "congrats on having one of the most openly and obviously insane posts on CL. Good luck not getting raped.(I think thats what youre subconsciously wanting.)"

Mike: " A most happy snoozie-coozie to you. Mike" (this was attached to a photo of a middle-aged, saggy man whose pic I won't post, for legal purposes).

ProvocativeOne: "Hmmm, I can't decide if I find this amusing or interesting. Needless to say I'm up for giving it a try. My story: Engaged but my finance lives on the other side of the states and will be until November. In the mean time it's been a bit odd sleeping alone, if it wasn't for our dog I might never sleep. I work late hours and wake up early so I'll be in and out of your hair before you can brush it. My lady is very open minded and is absolutely fine with me trying this, she's actually a bit jealous that the three of us couldn't try to share a king sized.
Let me know what you think and if you're at all interested.
I've got a pic to share if you are...and I request soy milk please."

Brian: "Ever tried getting a cat?"

Russell: "I am depressed as hell. Don't want to load any of my problems upon you, and can be charming and such without being depressing...I also know how it feels to just have somebody there without any expectations.
-- It is better to die on one's feet than to live on one's knees!" (followed by a photo of a near-70 year-old man)

Scott: "Hey, saw your ad on CL. I'm intrigued. Like to arrive at your place at 11 and depart by 7. I'm sweet and unassuming, just the way you like it. Drop me a line and let's make it happen. :)"

Old-Fashioned Blogging

I am finally acquiescing to the request of my cousin and sister that I fill out the following photo survey. As this is published on the Internet, I have no choice but perfect honesty.

Birthplace: Times were hard, but happy. Sometimes.





Guilty Pleasure: (see "favorite flower")

Favorite Actress: Myself





Favorite Actor: Whatever boy I'm currently dating




Favorite Restaurant: This charming place on 400 West. Someone always picks up my tab!



Favorite Color: I look great in orange.



Favorite Place to Shop: See "favorite restaurant"

Favorite Vacation: The "court-ordered" kind



Favorite Car: Whatever current "favorite actor" is driving




Favorite Flower: Poppies. In all their forms.




Dream Career: World's best brain surgeon (well, second to Dr. Derek Shepherd, of course).



Favorite Hobby? (See: "favorite flower")

Painted Faces on Parade

Welcoming (ourselves) to our new casa, six girls threw a little party---a masquerade ball. Here we are . . . incognito.

The Obsession Continues

I fell in love last night.

I'd like to publicly tell Jeremy right now that when the Bachelorette falls through (as it inevitably will), I'm here to pick up the pieces.

(Call me!)

And the Husband Goes to. . .

I have recently developed a small obsession, the indulgence of which I fear is blurring the boundaries between fantasy and reality in my mind. I await each Monday night with the anticipation of a child (or, to be perfectly honest, myself) at Christmas.

I am, of course, speaking of The Bachelor: London Calling.

Never in our time has a love story been so genuine and unaffected: 25 girls compete for the love (and by love I mean diamond) of a man who seeks only his soul mate (and by soul mate I mean dual citizenship).

So you can imagine my delight when, a few weeks ago, I received the following voicemail:

"Hi Kristen, this is Sherry and I'm calling from ABC's The Bachelor. We received your application and photo online (thanks to a humorous friend) and are interested in having you on an upcoming season. I've also sent you an email . . . "

Now, flattering as the offer might stand, I felt I had to decline, though perhaps not for the moral/ethical reasons you might assume. No, I refused because, upon further introspection, I realized I've been living a six-year episode of "Utah: The REAL Bachelor."

Allow me to elaborate: The Bachelor is like Utah dating for the following reasons:

The Women: Tall, beautiful, accomplished. Fashion-forward with the ability to maintain grace while binge drinking and wearing stiletto heels. College degrees, real-life jobs and 401K plans. The clincher: An unwavering desire to get married. This month.

The Men: Possess the ability to walk upright and consider themselves worthy of 25 women competing for them.

Other similarities include:

First Date: A casual hangout at his pad (Arlington or Belmont)with him and 24 other women.

Third Date: Home to meet the parents.

Fourth Date: He proposes or tells you he'll never speak to you again.

Aftermath: Crying to to the tune of "Goodbye my Almost Lover."

The Ring: Paid for by someone else (either ABC or the groom's business-owning father).

The Scene: women, laying around wrapped in throw blankets discussing their romantic lives ad nauseum (the difference being that in Utah, the girls DON'T realize they're talking about the same man).

And so, I regret to announce that I will not be appearing in any upcoming season of The Bachelor, though I urge you all to nominate me to be the next Bachelorette.

Reasons I Miss Ann Taylor

No offense to Banana Republic intended..