BLONDE LOGIC

Symptom Bluff

 

In the past month, I have had two fortune tellers tell me I have little tolerance for physical pain but an unusually high tolerance for emotional pain, especially being a female and all. One of the fortune tellers hesitated around the word female as if she was looking for a more appropriate word, I glared at her and she relented.  It is true I am highly sensitive physically, some may say I’m a hypochondriac, I like to say I’m just suspicious of my own body. I spend a lot of time meeting with the medical professionals and putting them through various tests from the book:

Everybody Thinks Doctors are so Smart   

disguised conversational questions to test your Doctor’s competency

Written Diligently By Kendra Cunningham.

Last week I had my Annual Physical. I felt like Reese Witherspoon in Election. I was showered, dressed, had all my ailments written up way before departure time. My Doctor and her assistant both complimented me on my outfit. Not at the same time either. I knew I had gained weight so I wasn’t looking forward to that part of the visit. Weight gain is not a diagnosis.

“179” the assistant called out.

“Holy shit” I said, “I can’t believe I gained so much weight. I knew I gained weight but…..”

My Doctor interrupted “You weighed 173 last year”

“Really? I swear I thought I was so skinny last year. It’s funny how….”

This time she straight up cut me off  “Yeah it was exactly a year ago so you gained six pounds. Let’s get your blood pressure”

She wasn’t in the mood for me. It was clear. She certain wasn’t gonna like my handwritten list of symptoms but I had to inform her or else I would be hindering her ability to do her job.  As I announced each symptom, she asked A LOT of questions I couldn’t answer. In a court of law I would have looked like I was lying about having trouble swallowing and feeling like I’m losing my balance sometimes. She did a great cross examination. I was even doubting myself.  At one point I caved and I felt like I was bluffing “Ok,Ok maybe I don’t get bloated with the smallest of morsels of food,  forget that one. Let’s move on to the pain in my left flank.”  She replied snidely “ Yes, let’s”

When all was done, she looked me in the eye and said “ I give this to all my patients, it’s a mental health assessment”

“Oh no! I never do good on these” I tried to joke with her.

She watched me answer the questionnaire which I thought was spooky but I didn’t say anything. When I was done she said “Well, you’re not depressed but you are anxious. What do you think you’re anxious about?”

“The fact that I’m not depressed? Maybe I feel guilty that I’m happy?”  I really wanted to get the right answer.

She just shrugged and asked if I wanted to be tested for HIV.

I said “Sure” like she had asked me if I wanted a piece of gum.

I ended up leaving there with blood test paperwork, a specialist referral, and the name of a dermatologist. No diagnosis but I felt good about my visit all the same.

When I got home I realized I left my Red Sox hat in the examination room.  I called and told them I’d come back the next day to get it but they insisted on mailing it to me.

Free of charge.

I hope they didn’t do anything to it.

 

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com                   

www.blondelogicblog.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dick Hostel

 

My family is big into Halloween. My mother still dresses up. Two years ago she came to New York for Halloween and me, my sister, and my mother all went out drinking, costumes and all. Grey Gardens is just around the bend.

This year my mother had a Halloween suggestion for me “Why don’t you dress up like a woman trying to meet a husband?”

 I asked “What would I wear?”

“Exactly!” she responded.

My mother isn’t coming to New York this Halloween. I asked her what she was gonna do and she said “No plans but I’m dressing up. I’ll just go out and scare the shit outta the kids. I don’t care. I’m having fun”

Chasing the fun runs in the family. I went to a concert at Brooklyn Bowl with my recently single sister, we walked by some funky bar on our way out and my sister said “Look! There are cute guys in there. C’mon !”.  About two sips into our beers she turned to me and said “These guys aren’t even gonna talk to us are they?”   I paused. I didn’t feel good about squashing her optimistic, romanticized version of the single life. I didn’t want to tell her activity on the front line is sparse, inconsistent. I didn’t want to go on and on about how online dating, porn, and the bisexual nature of the younger generation are all in cahoots to squeeze us “Let’s go drinking and do it military style” types out. Rocky Balboa’s It Ain’t About How Hard You Hit speech came to mind but I knew starting my response with “The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. “ would be too transparent.  So instead I said “They’re way too skinny anyway” then I unbuttoned my pants so I could breathe.

Rocky's Words of Wisdom

I’ve given up on guys. I’m sick of the whole bunch of them. I bought an Apple TV for the winter and I’m shutting it down for the next three months. As soon as I made that decision I had an old boyfriend, for lack of a better word, call me and say “I’m gonna be in New York can I stay at your place? I won’t try to have sex with you.”  I said “C’mon! You know me better than that. I can’t have dick in the house and just let it be. I don’t have one. They’re interesting to me”

He said “seriously? You won’t let me stay there?”

“What do you think? I’m running a dick hostel? You and your dick can come and sleep on the floor in the corner and hope that you don’t get assaulted or robbed in the middle of the night? You think that’s what I do with my time now?”

I was finding the conversation increasingly amusing and started in on a giggle fit.

He thought I was stoned.

It’s a good day when people suspect your enjoyment of mundane events is induced my mind altering substances.

 I heard through the grapevine he ended up staying at the W hotel.

Big swinging dick.

 

 

Thanks for listening

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com                   

www.blondelogicblog.com

 

 

Hellooooooooooooo Carol

My mother likes to act tough. She can talk a good game when the antagonist is nowhere to be seen but the minute there is a hint of confrontation, she’s off and running.  Avoidant behavior, it’s a family trait.

This weekend she called to tell me a woman named Barbara had moved into her building.

“You remember Barbara? She didn’t tip Kristen that time at Palm Beach Grill?”

My sister Kristen worked at Palm Beach Grill about 9 years maybe more.  If Barbara’s stingy behavior almost a decade ago is her character defining moment,  I’m guessing Barbara has finally trumped herself.

“I do remember the nontipping event but I can’t picture her”

“Well,  yeah you wouldn’t. She’s the epitome of depression. You know that labored walk and she never smiles.Never has. Never will. “

“That’s too bad” I said.

She bit back “Don’t feel bad for her. She’s not very nice to me. She moved into my building and she left a note under my door saying come by for a glass of wine and I never did. No big deal. I’m busy. I’m tired. I have my own wine. Whatever. So now whenever I see her she looks me right in the eye and almost squares off to me and says “Helloooooooooooooo Carol” then turns away. It’s so weird. It’s scary. I mean what the fuck is that all about? “Hellooooooooooooo Carol”  like Hello Newman from Seinfeld kind of shit. Fuck her. Don’t even bother saying hi”

Trying to be helpful, I suggested “You should say something”

“This weekend Kristen and I saw her EVERYWHERE we went and every time the same thing. One time she didn’t say hi. We were on the ferry and she looked like she was sleeping. Probably drunk or something”

“What did Kristen say about the whole thing?”

“She was creeped out! I mean who wants to see their mother being terrorized like that? She would see her and say “There she is! C’mon go this way” and steer me in the direction of safety. It’s ridiculous. Now I gotta avoid this woman?”

“Maybe you should get a pistol? Sit in the parking lot polishing it up.”

“I don’t have time to sit around participating in threatening behavior. I have a life”

“OK how about a water gun? When she squares off to you, squirt her in the face. What’s she gonna do?”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. I mean it’s not against the law. If she reported me she’d look like a big baby. You get squirt in the face with a water gun, you keep it to yourself, ya know?”

 

Who knows if she’ll follow through with the water gun retaliation. If I know my mother, she’ll dodge and sidestep Barbara when alone but when she has the support of a confederate, she’ll walk right towards her whispering to her side kick “Watch this”.

I asked my mother if I could share this story or if she thought the Big B might read it and lash out. She replied “I doubt she knows how to use the computer. I’ll print it out and tape it to her door. Can I get in trouble for that?”

 

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com                   

www.blondelogicblog.com

 

 

 

Worst Date Ever

I wrote this last week for my weekly column Beauty and the Beast http://thecomedypoint.com/category/beauty-and-the-beast/ thought I would share it here.

Worst Date Ever

I’m reluctant to classify any of the horrid dates I’ve had as the worst. I don’t want any of these buffoons to receive a superlative, even if it is has a negative connotation. It still says he was the best at something but for entertainments sake, here is ONE of the worst.

One of the Worst Dates I’ve Ever Had

Written by Kendra Cunningham, Still Single

A few years ago, right around this time of year, let’s say Fall 2007? I had just broke up with a guido pseudo bookie who shaved his entire body, hung his football jerseys on hangers, and lived in a 2 mile radius of his entire family. Why? I met him coming off the demise of a three year relationship with someone who quite literally took joy in being as hairy as possible, didn’t even have a closet in the industrial loft he turned into living quarters by putting up sheetrock walls (construction assistant- yours truly) and, I came to find out, sometimes pee’d in a bottle so he didn’t have to get out of bed in the middle of the night. I’m embarrassed to say, I learned this piece of information and still continued an emotional and sexual relationship with him. Why? The sex was good?  Good sex distorts reality. It’s a fact.

So I end up dating a meathead. It could be worse. We break up. Why? The sex was crap? No, I should say “the sex was crap period” it’s a statement of fact not a question. My friend Tiffany was happy to hear we were through. She didn’t like him because sometimes he wore cologne. We all have our things. She was more than happy to set me up with someone. The story she spun was he was a filmmaker, had a good sense of humor, and was looking to start dating after a long distance entanglement with a crazy lady from the Midwest.

She puts us in touch and we agree to meet at some sexy bar in the East Village. I show up, I find him, I sit down, I get a drink and the monologue begins. First he tells my breasts all about how he’s a vegetarian. I’ll be honest, when guys pay a lot of attention to my tits I don’t feel objectified, I get jealous. I do. I get jealous of my own mammary glands because they’re getting all the attention. I feel left out.  So I’m sitting there feeling like my date isn’t paying enough attention to me when I start to realize he’s been talking for a really long time. I interject “so Tiffany tells me you’re a filmmaker” .  This time he looks me in the eye, every couple of seconds and tells me about his experiences with Oliver Stone. It starts to become apparent he is not going to ask any questions about me. I order a hamburger. Take that ya vegan fuckwad.  Apparently his crazy ex girlfriend loves hamburgers too, go figure. Two people who like hamburgers? What are the odds? 

He starts in on his ex and how she only wanted him for his money. I start to suspect he has been drinking all day. So now I know he knows Oliver Stone ( braggart), he’s a vegan or vegetarian or some sort of limited menu choice eater ( yawn) and he fancies himself a rich man (whoopee ding dong).  I offered him the last bite of my burger, just to be an asshole. It crossed my mind to say “ you know I came here tonight hoping for a one night stand but your personality cock blocked you. Feel free to monologue that to Oliver Stone while eating your gold dusted edamame, you self engrossed poser”  but we have mutual friends . That’s the thing about getting involved with somebody who has mutual friends, you gotta play nice. It sucks!  He asked me if I wanted to go back to his place and smoke pot.  I told him I shouldn’t . I left him on the corner with a “I get really horny when I’m stoned” .

He texted me a few days later and asked me to go to some event.

I wrote back “Too tired, spent the night with an NYU linebacker and a bong. Gotta get some sleep.”

Dating sucks.

 

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com                   

www.blondelogicblog.com