Salute the [Surgeon] General.

Salute the [Surgeon] General.
But pay no mind to his warnings.

Xo!
dk

Looks like I'm in love again this week

After sending my friend an informative text about my night prior...

she provided this awakening response:

"I don't even have words. My favorite part is that you got your ass drunk on your date. So classy."

Hmm...

I didn't even think about that until she mentioned it. Ha. Likely, it's not the classiest thing - getting trashed on a first date. And, not only was it a first date, it was a first in-person encounter... as I did (of course) meet this dude online. Not the classiest thing nor was it the safest thing. Note to self: next time I meet a dude for the first time offline, dinner shouldn't consist of five glasses of wine followed by dessert. And by dessert I clearly mean a margarita.

Whatever, he told me I was pretty.

And, he's a great kisser.

Looks like I'm in love again this week.

Xo!

dk

See... that's what happens when you date Middle Eastern dudes! Sweet-talking sons of bitches! I love them ALL!! They're trouble. And I LIVE for trouble.

An everlasting game.

Fine. Wednesday. 7pm.

I went out on a dinner date. It was pleasant.

The man was intelligent, articulate, educated and responsible. He was at an ideal age (as defined by societal norms and expectations - not by my own twisted daddy issues). He gave me plenty of compliments. And, his attention remained undivided. He took pleasure in telling me that I'm "pretty" and expressed his appreciation that I'm "very smart" - and his favorite thing about me, I'm "so sweet" (these are of course his words, not mine*).

And, as any man should... he drove, he opened my car door, he put our name in at the restaurant, he treated the server graciously, he made certain that I was comfortable and all our accommodations/needs were met. Of course, he paid the bill. And, politely, he bid me a pleasant farewell - with the right combination of desire and respect.


That said...


After this pleasant night out with a generic, white male...
...I've restored my original policy of engaging racism when dating.

I'm officially back on my Middle Eastern men fix.
Normalcy, it's just... well, it's just so darn bland!

I want some fun.
Some excitement.
Some questionably healthy tension.
The occasional burst [er, outburst] of jealousy.
A theatrical display of ownership.
Rigorous emotional tug of war.
Some sexual innuendo.
Lots, actually.
A battle of wits.
A challenge.

Something to stimulate my curiosity.
Something to sustain my intrigue.

An everlasting game.

*It should be noted that I do not condone the usage of these words nor do I deem them appropriate when used in the referencing of my person.

Fine. Wednesday. 7pm.

Fine.
I agreed to a dinner date.
(One in which a time and a place was selected in advance.)

It kills me to relinquish control.

Sure, sure... I date. And quite frequently. But to formally set an actual day and a time. Oh for fuck's sake. What a burden that seems. I much prefer to abruptly phone any given plethora of someones at my leisure and have them treat me to whatever it is my heart desires on that particular day at that particular moment.

Fine. Wednesday. 7pm.
Let's see how this bullshit goes. Puke.
I'll report back on Wednesday.

Xo!
dk

Tastey international delicacies

And, somehow when you pick up your iPhone Monday morning only to realize the glass screen is cracked, you have a multitude texts from various unknown numbers and missed call from a mysterious international number... yeah, you know you probably had a unique Sunday Funday.

I met a Spaniard yesterday. But the taste of Porto Rico still lingers.

What a lovely day for international delicacies.

Xo!

dk

Pastel ponies rescue my sanity.

" This is my last week of school. At the end of this week, I plan to obliterate myself by way of alcohol and general delinquency. And, I will refuse to emerge from this intoxicated condition until unicorns and multi-colored pastel ponies offer me a piggy back ride across the star sprinkled sky, right to the moon for potato skins and mango figs marinated in chocolate sauce. Saucy! "

- dk

Yup, I just quoted my facebook status from this week. So?

I'm not ashamed.

Sunday driver pulls over

I'm exhausted.

I've spent the last couple weeks balancing full-time academia with full-time professionalism.

Friday night I expired myself from this world, falling asleep at 6pm. Finally, 48 hours later, I left the house. This evening, I took what I thought would be a quick trip to the mall. I needed make-up (I'd have to color myself presentable tomorrow for work). Luckily, being as superficially inclined as I am, I know my make-up - thankfully, I was at the dreaded mall for no more than 15 minutes. But, somehow, it took me several hours to get home.

That's what happens when a 42 year old Greek man with gray hair, in the next car catches my attention. It's a good thing too, my daddy issues have been acting up again lately. This should provide sufficient remedy for the time being.

Goodnight.

Xo!

dk

I'm single and the grass is green!

Damn it! My OKCupid inbox is full.

I should have never uploaded photos!

(Or, I should have at least waited until my school semester came to a close. Busy. Busy.)

Blasphemy!

Xo!

dk

You know you're getting old when Fridays no longer matter.

Work.

School.

Sleep.

Rinse.

Repeat.

It's Friday night.

That said, goodnight.

Xo!

dk

Twitter hip

If I were hip and shit, I'd keep up my Twitter Account.

And maybe I'd follow shit like Somee Cards.

I'm not.

Still, maybe you are.

http://twitter.com/#!/someecards

http://twitter.com/#!/dailydk

My love life, clearly.

You and your cunt are beautiful!

In an ideal circumstance every woman would confidently strut through this imperfect world happy with her imperfect body. Heck, men do it! Why let them have all the rights to confidence? Not under my watch!

"All women think they're ugly, even pretty women. A man who understood this could fuck more women than Don Giovanni. They all think their cunts are ugly... They all find fault with their figures... Even models and actresses, even the women you think are so beautiful that they have nothing to worry about do worry all the time."

- Erica Jong

Stop fucking worrying! Love your cunt!

Xo!

dk

Victoria and I may have a cat fight come June.

Here's the thing... I'm brand loyal. Why? Because I'm lazy.

If I find something - something that works - why change?

Victoria's Secret has been the exclusive name in my intimates drawer(s) for the past 10 years.

I shop in store and online - I know my sizes, I know my styles.

I have the credit card. And, certainly, I have the body. It's that easy.

But...

Seriously, Victoria?

It's no secret that your product line has been slowly deteriorating for the last five years (at least): quality, and style alike. Very gimmicky. And, that PINK Collection - cute and affordable as it is - should not distract your designers from producing a decent Very Sexy product line.

Come on! You're killing me!!

I've been upset with the brand for years now but too lazy to switch.

Can you do something about that, and soon? Please!

See you at the Semi-Annual in June.

Still your loyal customer,

dk

Photos don't lie. They simply fib.

This morning, I added new photos to my online dating profile.

Just goes to show you, guys don't give a fuck what you say - as long as your hot.

It's a damn good thing I have a way with make-up, hair product and perversely undersized attire. False advertising at its finest... if I do say so myself, and I do!

Let the games begin. I'm bored.

Xo!

dk

I was young girl once. It aged me terribly.

I bought a couple of new, used books.

This is my favorite encountered quote, today anyway.

"Infidelity, that infallible rejuvenator, calms the fear of growing old. In spite of our decreasing charms we sweep young people off their feet, for young people do not understand themselves, and fortunately for us, can still be hypnotised by those who do."

True. I was young once. It aged me terribly.

Xo!
dk

Long walks and tall men

This week's dates:

Went on a date with some strange 6'3" man...

it concluded with a midnight stroll through some vacant park after dark.

Went on a date with some strange 6'1" man...

it concluded with a midnight stroll through some vacant city after dark.

It seems the only thing that changed is the height of the strange man...

and location of the vacant place strolled after dark.

Was the conversation different? Not really.

Was the experience different? Not really.

Was the man different? Not really.

They're all just so the same.

And another of the things they have in common: they think I'm so different.

They've never met anyone like me, they always say. At first I thought it a line. Now I realize, it was never a compliment - rather it was a perplexed statement of fact. Fair enough.

Until the next late night stroll with Mr. X, Y or Z

Night.

Xo!

dk

Strawberries & feta.

I have class today, but first...

Strawberry and feta breakfast while I tan in the yard.

If life were like this forever, it wouldn't be called life.
It would be called happiness.

Happiness now.

Xo!
dk

Monday, may you R.I.P.

Please, moment of silence.

Yesterday was my last Case of the Mondays.

A moment of silence, please.

Xo!
dk

Farewell Monday, I will miss you.

Dear Advertising,

We meet again.

Fine.
You win.

Again.

See you bright and early tomorrow morning.

Sincerely,
New Hire

Sunday isn't just about mimosas...

Sunday isn't just about mimosas... it's also about...

Hibiscus
(cranberry & champagne)

Daffodil
(lemonade & champagne)

Charm Fram
(Framboise & champagne)

Black Velvet
(Guinness & champagne)



Spent today at Mutt Lynche's in Newport Beach.

It seems Sundays can be just as fun as Mondays.

Xo!
dk