BLONDE LOGIC

Mea Culpa

 

I’m terrible at journaling. My journals are sporadic collections of nonsense. I recently pulled out a bunch of old journals filled with to do lists, joke ideas, and things I want to do with my life rants.  Not one journal had been completed. They all have the middle part of the journal blank, then at the back there are a few entries that seem more interesting because of their odd placement but they’re not. No grand emotional disclosures, no scandalous involvement with the underbelly of society, and sadly, no sexual content. The best thing I found in my journals are a collection of  fake apology letters. I didn’t realize how prone I was to fake apologies but they are proof of my overbearing conscience. This one was written in red ink at a diagonal on the page.

 

Exhibit A:

Dear Credit Card Company,

I am writing to inform you I will not be paying you anymore. I apologize in advance for any inconvenience this may cause you. I don’t remember all the things you paid for for me. I really don’t and that makes me feel even worse. Plus, I kinda knew I would never be able to pay you back in full. I’m just being honest. I don’t know why I took advantage of the situation. I think it’s because we never met in person. I really do. I think if I had met an actual person who lent me cash, I would have been more inclined to settle my debt. It doesn’t really matter at this point. The damage is done. I do want to thank you for the trip to the British Virgin Islands. One of the best times of my life so far. If you ever get a chance to go there, do it.  Go to the Willy T. It’s a cool boat bar that’s off Norman Island I think. You can get drunk and jump off the boat, you can even jump naked and they give you a free tshirt. It’s impossible to fret about unpaid debts there. You’ll forget all about me and my inability to make things right. I am enclosing my card, I cut it up. I bought one more pair of jeans before I did. The Seven for All Mankind flares that I like. So thank you. I’m sure you’ll be in touch but odds are I’ll never return your calls. It’s just easier that way. Easier for me.

Thanks and again, sorry.

            -the date on this is too recent to disclose

 

I also found one to my TV when I had forgotten to pay the cable bill and one to my amazing bed that I had spilled a hot beverage on.

 

This is why I save all my journals, someday they could be used as evidence in my insanity plea.

 

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

Errand Cahoots

  

I performed in the Women in Comedy Festival in Boston last week (check out the festival http://www.womenincomedyfestival.com/). I arrived at the venue and the first thing the hostess said to me is “Your mothers here, she’s not happy”

Turns out, the show was sold out and she hadn’t made a reservation so she did not get preference in seating nor did she mask her disappointment.

The hostess went on “She wanted me to comp her but I …”

“Please, don’t worry about my mother.”

As I’m having this conversation with the concerned hostess, I see my mother leering at me from across the room.

I made the mistake of telling her what the hostess said. “She said that? Oh get a life. Seriously there’s something wrong with that girl. She can’t comp your mother? She sticks me back here? Look at all these empty seats. I don’t think she likes you”

“Maybe she doesn’t like you, Mum”

“Oh stop being ridiculous. She doesn’t even know me. Your hair looks good”

We spent the next day together. As I climbed in the car she asked “Now is there anything you want to do while you’re here?”

“Not really, I’m pretty flexible”

“Oh good because I thought we would go to Ashmont Grill around 7, I gotta stop by Joannes and, shit, I HAVE to pick up my laundry. Don’t let me forget”

Bingo I am in errand cahoots within moments. I did thank her for the courtesy of acting like what I wanted to do mattered.

Driving around doing errands is a means of bonding in my family. I can’t tell you how many Saturdays as a kid we would pile in the car at 9 am and not get home until we had gorged on a late lunch of Chinese food. Filene’s basement, food shopping, grandparent visits, whatever was on the list, it didn’t matter, we got to drive around and listen to music and hang out together. It was a mobile furlough.

I’ve been programmed to associate errand running with close relationships. If a guy says “Let’s pop in here, I need new sneakers”

 Alley Oop! Full steam ahead.

I have to stop myself from saying “Ok ok it’s official, I will be your Girlfriend but, Boyfriend, but we still need to talk about this, your expectations, my expectations…”

The worst is when your crush is a bad errand runner. Some people just do not enjoy errands. Once I witnessed a cutie furiously dropping off dry cleaning. Relax, buddy. It’s 2 o’clock on a Saturday. Take a deep breath. I can’t deal with people like that. Running errands is the perfect excuse to go brain dead. You walk around on autopilot crossing things off the list, knowing at the end of the day you will feel as if you accomplished something even though you didn’t have to THINK. You participated in a few bullshit conversations, maybe even an impulse buy or two,  snacks snacks snacks, these are the types of days you want to spend with a special someone.

That’s the best time to bond, especially with men, when you’re not thinking.

It’s a level playing field.

 

Read about our trip to Alumni Café here

http://blondelogic.typepad.com/dont_forget_to_chew_/

 

There is a  story about me and my cars here

http://www.thegloc.net/2012/03/27/bursting-flame-detail-assignment-g-l-o-c/

 

Thanks for listening!

Kisses-

Kendra