May 26, 2006
I hope you'll stick around for another 100.
Believe it or not, this is post 200. I can hardly believe it. I have run out of interesting things I can share about myself, so for half price you get 100 of the things I have learned, confirmed, or deemed a totally certifiable truthitude in the past year. Enjoy.

Supplant does not mean at all what I thought it did.
For the first time ever, I now understand the difficult feeling of not being able to take time off from work.
Indian food is one of the seven culinary wonders of the world.
I will forever mull over, at least once a year, exactly who will attend my wedding and/or funeral.
I have some friends who I'm not sure I really like.
Flying can actually be an even more beautiful experience when you aren't self medicating.
I don't necessarily have to yell to be heard.
No matter how many times you freeze them, some shoes just have to be thrown out.
I will never like Mr. Pibb.
I will be devastated beyond comprehension when my parents pass away. I'm truthfully not sure what I will do.

I hate talking on the phone, but I get upset when it doesn't ring.
Al Gore's Internets are a perfectly viable place to establish lasting friendships.
Gerbera daisies may not be my favorite flowers after all.
I am a sieve when it comes to current events. I tune out of many such conversations, particularly political ones.
Much to my chagrin, exercise does apparently assist in weight loss.
I will need to adopt a dog in the next three or four years. And Bug and Cricket will learn to love him.
I covet Blackberries. Especially those held by 22-year-old Capitol Hill interns deserving a beatdown.
Wearing a faux engagement ring makes traveling solo a lot easier.
I have a serious problem with obsessing over things I cannot control.
For some reason my instant reaction to animal neglect is stronger than it is for child abuse.

I abhor laziness in others, despite being awfully lazy myself for most of this year.
Puns are still some of the funniest damn things on the planet. (Thank you, Target, for still carrying a wide array of pun cards with which to torture friends and acquaintances.)
I have no cognitive control over reading your comments repeatedly, many times via my cell phone, and then holding conversations with you in my head.
When someone's rescitation of a movie scene/quote takes more than 10 seconds, they have crossed an important social line (READ: and deserve a swift smack in the head).
I am afraid of much more than I had ever previously thought.
Quality time doesn't necessarily entail hours spent staring into each other's eyes. Sometimes it just involves getting off your ass.
I don't like people I don't know talking to me in public places for more than a few seconds. If I initiate the contact, it's a different story.
Other than in photo albums, there is no permanent record of my immediate family history.
I really, really miss my subscription to Entertainment Weekly.

It's not likely that I will ever leave Blogger.
I was born to, and will not be satisfied until, I travel to every world destination my heart desires.
Word searches make me feel unreasonably skilled.
Ignorance regarding mental health issues makes my blood boil. Stupid Tom Cruise.
I am proud to say that I am not a woman who breaks into ex's email accounts.
Sprint doesn't know how to make a damn headset that lasts beyond a fortnight.
Riding the Metrobus really isn't that intimidating after all. Almost disappointing, really.
My irritation with Andie McDowell remains as strong as ever, yet I find Billy Bush strangely endearing.
Despite trying to stop, when a passenger in a car or train, I often look around and think about good places murderers might hide bodies.
There is not a place that I feel safer than right next to my mother.

I am currently the only person on the planet not remotely interested in Taylor Hicks, oil prices, or Britney dropping her baby on his head.
For some reason, I have a feeling that I will be married in the next four years.
French pedicured nails make me want to scream.
Men apparently find women with tummies bulging out of their pale, sheer tissue tees attractive. Why else would this be a trend right now?
In the past several months, I have realized that you really can always count on at least one person kicking you when you are down.
Stupid tissues with lotion make me break out. AS DOES AIR.
I will never have beautiful feet.
Baby carrots aren't that bad after all.
I tend to skip over reading blog entries longer than a few paragraphs.
After an hour spent cooling my face on the tiled floor, I was forced to admit that my days of doing shots even remotely sour were clearly over.

My overplucking has done its damage. These tiny brows are what I'm stuck with.
In the past four months, my entries would have doubled in number had I been able to blog about things I cannot.
I have not outgrown my disbelief re: the world finding Uma Thurman so beautiful.
Despite my best efforts, I remain a poster child for PMS.
Here's a shocker: inappropriate racial, homophobic, little people, and growing old as a cat-owning spinster jokes STILL AREN'T FUNNY. And they still won't be after post 10,000.
Love isn't all you need.
More people find people not wearing underwear offensive than you'd think. Or maybe not.
I still haven't watched an entire episode of Seinfeld, and I still wish the Swan would come back sooner than true bell bottoms.
Nothing does taste as good as being (that little bit) thinner feels. Except for pizza. And blue cheese dressing.
Men in uniform do nothing for me.

I probably will not own a home before I'm 40.
Doubting yourself can almost be fatal.
That gorgeous hot and cinnamony gum is deadly to my mouth. I can't chew anything else for two days following. And it's almost worth it.
There need to be spaces in your togetherness.
Good pillows make life that much more wonderful. Not to mention an original scent, new lingerie, a breeze through screened windows, ridiculous bath products, and colored band aids. It's the simple things.
I know no one who is entirely happy.
Very few people, if any, in my world believe that people can change. This almost brings me to tears.
In different ways, life will need to be more than it was for Mom and Dad.
I don't need to support everyone - the woman in the elevator, the family member, the colleague - all the time. Sometimes the doctor is indeed out.
I hate on haters.

It's alright to slow down. In fact, it feels . . . amazing.
There can be too much Fleetwood Mac on morning radio.
Pudgy kitties don't need to eat as much as they tell you they do.
One really can spontaneously sweat when thinking about playing on the company softball team.
When you get a calf cramp in the deep end that your swim instructor beats out of your leg for you, it makes that cumbersome daily shaving all worth it.
Hauling yourself to bed really is better than sleeping on the couch. With the lights and the television on.
I will never get over my frustration that my apartment building has no outgoing mail slot.
Using your cell phone as your alarm clock prevents snoozing. Too many damn buttons.
Killing with kindness really isn't a bad philosophy.
Sometimes it's just best to keep quiet.

I will receive 80 Victoria's Secret catalogs a week no matter 1) that the last time I purchased anything was in the 90s, and 2) how many times I move hoping they lose my trail.
I love that I have sass.
A washer/dryer and windows without bars on them are another two of my non-negotiables.
It's frustrating when you meet up with people you haven't seen in six months and no one mentions the fact THAT YOU'VE LOST 18 POUNDS.
Yeah. Lime green really is not my color.
I am obsessed with lurkers who don't comment. It's almost like peeping . . . And of course I do it too.
Apparently, Bush is still our president.
Am I the only one who suffers from the affliction of needing to be well liked?
Those people who can't wait to tell you what's really in hot dogs and Taco Bell meat must have no happiness in their lives. And be awful in bed.

You don't want to be that woman who brings food to a party and then takes the leftovers home even though the host doesn't offer them. If for no other reason than women like me will blog about you.
People who use the C word aren't necessarily bad people, they're just deviants.
I can be wrong. Very wrong.
Hubcaps really do make all the difference on a '96 Sentra.
I'm getting tiny laugh lines around my mouth, and for some reason they don't bother me at all.
Lake Ontario apparently borders the city of Toronto.
I feel perfectly content when both of my kids lie on the couch with me, one on my chest, one on the arm.
My threshold for losing all interest in an art museum is precisely one half hour.
A woman with three beers in her can indeed install a wireless network in her home.
My instinct is more reliable than the advice of anyone in my world.

And 101. I simply love to shake it.

Happy Memorial Day Weekend, kids.


40 Comments:

Anonymous kimmer said...

I totally knew we had something in common, and it is the cinnamon gum thing.

Blogger Freewheel said...

Indian food = food of the gods.

I'm glad you have no plans to leave blogger! :)

Blogger Diet Coke of Evil said...

I hate that I don't have an outgoing mail slot too! Once I left mail in my mailbox (clearly meant to GO OUT) and the mailman didn't even take it. Like it would have been so much more effort! I mean, it was holiday cards - I was trying to spread cheer!

Okay, I'm getting way too worked up about this, but what a great list!

Blogger Finn said...

Love this list! I can relate to almost everything on it.

Now I'm really upset that we didn't get to meet when I was in DC. We would have had fun...

Have a wonderful weekend, sweetie.

Blogger t2ed said...

Uma Thurman looks like a rat. A long-limbed, blonde, dancing rat, but a rat nonetheless.

Blogger Guinness_Girl said...

I adore this list! There are so many items that warrant a response...how can I pick just one? Oh wait, I've got it: I get this hilarious image of you in a new apartment, flipping through mail from your new mailbox amidst the boxes surrounding you, going "DAMMIT! FOILED AGAIN!" as you find a Victoria's Secret catalog in the mail. Snicker.

Blogger Amy said...

I finally called VS and told them to stop wasting so much money on sending me catalogs I wasn't going to use. 4 a week seems excessive to me.

Loved the list!

Have a great holiday weekend!

Blogger ❉ pixie ❉ said...

Great list! There are so many things on it that I completely agree with.

Blogger Gwen said...

I love to lurk, but I guess I can't do it here anymore. Talk about foiled again!

I know of the kind of women who take leftovers home from parties, although I congratulate myself that they are relatives of friends, and not my own friends.

I'm pretty sure I can't install a wireless network sober, so kudos to you!

Here's something I learned recently and have to relearn constantly: where you live and what kind of car you drive don't make you who you are. Or at least that's how I deal with my move to suburbia and purchase of a minivan.

Blogger Miss Scarlet said...

"I hate talking on the phone, but I get upset when it doesn't ring."

Me, too!

I love these lists although I'm convinced my own would be boring.

Good pillows make life that much more wonderful. Not to mention an original scent, new lingerie, a breeze through screened windows, ridiculous bath products, and colored band aids. It's the simple things.

Amen, sister!

Luuuuuuuve your blog! Heres to 200 more!

Blogger Lisa Ann said...

I am obsessed with lurkers who don't comment. It's almost like peeping.


Love your list. Love your blog.

Happy 200!

Anonymous Jorge said...

I will counter comment.
But not to all one hubdred of your delicious insights...

For the first time ever, I now understand the difficult feeling of not being able to take time off from work.
This takes some getting used to. Even if you're used to it.

Indian food is one of the seven culinary wonders of the world.
I Can't Believe It's Not Butter is #1 on that list.

I will forever mull over, at least once a year, exactly who will attend my wedding and/or funeral.
I don't we all do that.

I have some friends who I'm not sure I really like.
Errr....

I don't necessarily have to yell to be heard.
In all honesty, you have one of the coolest voices ever. Couple that with your ability to do impressions and I'd listen to you for hours talking to yourself. ;)

No matter how many times you freeze them, some shoes just have to be thrown out.
Along with the ice cubes.

I hate talking on the phone, but I get upset when it doesn't ring.
Sometimes it's the only way.

Al Gore's Internets are a perfectly viable place to establish lasting friendships.
You are 21 kinds of awesome for that line. :)

I have a serious problem with obsessing over things I cannot control.
I have learned that you either give up on trying to control them, or figure out a way to conrol yourself.

When someone's rescitation of a movie scene/quote takes more than 10 seconds, they have crossed an important social line (READ: and deserve a swift smack in the head).
This does NOT aply to Cleveland.

I am afraid of much more than I had ever previously thought.
Knowing your fears makes it easier to know yourself.

I am currently the only person on the planet not remotely interested in Taylor Hicks, oil prices, or Britney dropping her baby on his head.
Amen.

For some reason, I have a feeling that I will be married in the next four years.
Could it be our drunken predictions?

In the past several months, I have realized that you really can always count on at least one person kicking you when you are down.
Being on the ground is one of the best defensive positions ever. Best place to gather your strength and regroup. If you were never on the ground, you'd never be able to stand up.

I tend to skip over reading blog entries longer than a few paragraphs.
Err...

I still haven't watched an entire episode of Seinfeld, and I still wish the Swan would come back sooner than true bell bottoms.
I don't like Seinfeld. There. I said it.

Men in uniform do nothing for me.
They put out fires.

Doubting yourself can almost be fatal.
Sometimes worse than fatal.

Very few people, if any, in my world believe that people can change. This almost brings me to tears.
People CAN change. How much is the question. And whether they want to or not.

Using your cell phone as your alarm clock prevents snoozing. Too many damn buttons.
Sadly, I have found out that my unconscious self is good at reprogramming my alarm.

People who use the C word aren't necessarily bad people, they're just deviants.
I just peed my pants a little.

Lake Ontario apparently borders the city of Toronto.
It's good to know this, if only for the next time you come up to look like a pro.

You rock, my dear.
Hopefully chat soon.

J-Dawg

Blogger Rosie said...

This is a great list.

Fleetwood Mac was playing as I read it...no lie!

And amen to this, sister: french manicures (and pedicures too for that fact) are trash-y.

I try to comment more, I really do. But sometimes, I just don't have anything all that witty to say and I don't want to waste cyber space (given that it's infinite I should probably get over that). I certainly always enjoy reading, you are very funny and always thought-provoking.

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Blogger BabsieD said...

Fine, I'm a lurker. But how do I compete with writing like this?

(and now I can make $900 a month while earning a degree online? Now I really am speechless.)

Except for this one thing: much worse than French manicures: hot pink French manicures. For the love.

Blogger Nat said...

I thought I was the only person who thought about where good murderers would hide bodies or struggle in trying to figure out the fascination with Uma Thurman's beauty.

I'll raise a glass - Here's to your next 200 posts...

Blogger JJ said...

Not lurking, just overwhelmed. Happy 200.

Blogger Hope said...

Okay, I'll come out. I lurk, but in my defense you found me first and commented at my blog like a year ago. Ever since I've been hiding in the shadows.

Lake Ontario does border Toronto. It also borders Rochester, NY - where I'm blogging from!

Blogger Jasclo said...

1. cinnamon gum makes me want to cry because it's so hot. i do not like. but i'm glad someone chews that stuff.

2. i heart my pillow.

3. no outgoing mail slot? now that is just wrong.

Anonymous Jennifer said...

I love this. Lots and lots. May be inspired to steal. Or copy. Or something. My original 100 are outdated and stale.

I could comment on at least 89 of these, you know. But I think I much prefer to just appreciate them in their current state.

People CAN change, I used to be a jerk.

Blue Cheese Dressing?!?
*ack*
I'm sorry Kris.....it's over.

Well, until next week when I fall for you all over again.

Have a great weekend!

Blogger Margaret said...

De-lurking to ask why freeze shoes?

Anonymous Maliavale said...

This may be my favorite post of yours ever. Well-played, Kris Likey, well-played indeed.

Blogger missbhavens said...

200!!! Ack!!! You don't read a day over 101.

I, too, have friends I'm not sure I really like...that's why I have you. I'm 100% positive that I like you.

To 200 more!

Blogger Melissa said...

I am obsessed with lurkers who don't comment. It's almost like peeping.

I'm finally commenting. I have no outgoing slot either. I've taped a clothespin to my mail box and the when I clip mail in it, it miraculously disappears now...the packages I leave do too.

Anonymous edge said...

this is why I lurk.

Blogger Kim said...

No, you are not the only one that has to be well liked but for you it's easy because everyone DOES like you. How could they not?

Blogger femme d'espoir said...

happy 200th!!

"Indian food is one of the seven culinary wonders of the world."

Try Burmese, it's like a cross between Indian and Thai food.

"I will never like Mr. Pibb."

Nobody does, but they keep bottling it. Seriously, how many people do you actually see drink the stuff?

"Men apparently find women with tummies bulging out of their pale, sheer tissue tees attractive. Why else would this be a trend right now?"

It doesn't necessarily turn me off, still...do you know what the term for that phenom is ? "Muffin tops."

"It's frustrating when you meet up with people you haven't seen in six months and no one mentions the fact THAT YOU'VE LOST 18 POUNDS."

But gain five and not only will notice, but they will say whatever they want without regard to your feelings.

Blogger Megarita said...

"I hate talking on the phone, but I get upset when it doesn't ring."

EXACTLY.

Blogger Jessica said...

I'm glad I'm not the only one who is horrified by French pedicures!

Blogger K said...

Lurk, lurk, lurk... lurkity lurk.

Can't help it... Your wit and wisdom can be so darn intimidating!

In honour of your 200th post, I too, will try to not be such a voyeur in the future...

Blogger Jessica said...

Ok, next observation is....what does freezing shoes do?

Blogger Spinning Girl said...

I loved this.

Som eof my best posts, and the best ones I've read, are well over a few paragraphs long.

I print them out & read in spurts.

I'm always glad I did.

Anonymous Pagan Marbury said...

Why can't you write about whatever you want?

And PLEASE explain about the frozen shoes.

Blogger mysterygirl! said...

Happy 200! A great list. (And, in case you couldn't tell, I need to be well-liked, too)

I, too, would like to learn about the frozen shoes...

Blogger KlevaBich said...

Wow, happy 200. Miss B Havens is right, you don't sound a day over 101.

And so many of these items mesh perfectly with my opinions that I have to ask: Have you been sneaking around inside my head? Do I have to start wearing my tinfoil hat again?

Sigh...

Blogger Oy Vey said...

I'm seriously vaklempt. No joke, it's kind of making me teary and I'm not sure why..this is a really sweet post.

I confess, I don't read posts beyond a couple of paragraphs either generally. Shhh!

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