I'm in a funk...I don't know exactly what it is though.  I've been crying a lot, which isn't me.  I've even been missing Brian so much it hurts...which before him I would have bitch slapped myself.  Him having the ability to make my day can mean that he has the ability to ruin it...not that I think he would, but the point remains that when it comes to him, I'm vulnerable.  I know, I'm essentially bedridden and have one good foot, how can I be anything else, but...emotionally, I've never been so completely open.  I almost wish I understood it, but then I would talk myself out of it probably.  What can I say?  I love him, he's amazing (not to mention blind AND deaf), and I wouldn't have it any other way, I just feel slightly awkward being an emotional pile of gunk.  Maybe I'm over thinking this like everything else, but I think not.  I'm actually happy I fell, because it means I have to do other things than have sex...eh, not that I don't do that, but the cast makes it strange.  I've even grown to like playing Monopoly with him...something I NEVER thought I would enjoy.  The gunky emotional thing didn't really start until Brian wanted to have a serious conversation about our lack of things in common.  I see that as a positive generally, BUT it could be a problem.  I don't think it's as big of a deal as he does, at all.  I like keeping my mind open and trying to give things he likes a chance.  He isn't so...into things that I like.  Then it got to the statement of the year, "I love you, and there's no one else I'd rather be with, but..." realistically, I don't expect him to be IN love with me, but I am with him.  Then there's been a shitty phone glitch where I haven't gotten a text from him in two days, and...he's sent them.  I hate that...

Contrary to general thought, this is not a sex post.  I wish it were...kind of.  This is more an update on WHY I have spent nearly everyday since November 24th...IN BED.  That was a Tuesday, and that Tuesday I was supposed to meet Brian's parents.  Unfortunately, that had to be put on hold because we were both called into work.  That was bad enough, enough to ruin my day, then work sucked in an epic fashion, fortunately Brian was going to be over later.  Then Buddy called and asked if I wanted a ride to the Wal-mart on Elmore, I look at the clock and say yes.  Brian works there and I would be there as he was getting off and just go home with him, PERFECT plan, right?  That day was rainy, and when we got to Wal-mart I was walking about average speed, which is to say slightly faster than normal.  I slipped.  There weren't any mats or safety cones or anything, but...I still slipped.  I couldn't get up.  Brian was paged, and when he got up there he saw that I was in a wheelchair.  Mom drove me to the hospital, Brian and Buddy followed.  Brian stayed with me, and was there when I heard that I had to have surgery.  I broke my ankle in two places, AND dislocated it.  I was put on morphine, and they put my ankle in place, which hurt more than I can even explain.  Apparently I'm entertaining on drugs, Amanda showed up and was thoroughly amused.  I fell at 4:50 or so, and was in surgery by 10, when Brian left.  He had to be at work the next morning at 8.  When he got off work, he came to the hospital and spent the night with me.  He bought flowers and balloons and I kinda fell a little more in love with him than I was, which I didn't think was possible.  I came home the next day, Thanksgiving.  Then Friday was my birthday, which was fairly bland.  Monday, however, Brian came over and spent the night.  We watched movies and ate pizza, and that was fun, but most of all I was just SO happy being with him.  Really, there's no one else I would rather be with if given the opportunity.  After he left, I totally got him the awesomest Christmas present ever.  Was it more than I should have spent?  You betcha, but...he's worth every last penny.  He'll be over Monday, to play cameraman when I get my hard cast.  I can hardly wait for the hard cast and to see him.  Anyway...that's about all the update...oh two screws and a plate was the damage. 

Life has been an epic win as of late.  Work is alright, I'm doing better at it.  It's fairly routine but I need to get some parts down still.  I have a hatred for people who pay in nickels, or have crumbled dollars.  I'm nice to everyone though, and really nice if they're attractive. 

Thursday Amanda and I went out on the town.  What were we doing you ask?  Getting free toothpaste!  Hy-Vee had a one day sale on tubes of Colgate for $.88.  Amanda had 18 coupons for $1 off.  Don't believe me?  I have pictures!!!



I don't know if you can see that, we paid $1.11 in sales tax, AND paid that in change.  It was awesome.

I was texting someone through the whole ordeal.  Brian.  Brian is officially called "the boy" by Amanda.  Brian has met my dad, Amanda, and Uncle Jay and Aunt Sherry...I'm impressed he still speaks to me, let alone digs me.  Thus, I have a reason to shave my legs.  He even kinda makes me want to get my license...badly.  Not to mention he's so pretty I want to go to Wal-mart when he's working and ask if I can have assistance in the fitting room...with his teeth.  He'll be over Wednesday, I'm super excited.  This week is SLLLLOOOOWWW if only for that reason. 

Yeah...that's him...and that picture in particular makes me want to do some very dirty wonderful things to him...it's weird, I know.

Ok, the title...it's a bit suggestive, and I'll get to that.  First things first though...


I got a job!!!

Now that that is taken care of, I start Thursday at the Wal-Mart gas station on Kimberly, yall come visit now!  Damn I look good in work clothes too, just saying.  I actually got the job yesterday, at the interview, so...I'm super excited.

Also, yesterday I went on what I suppose would technically be a second date.  I gave boyfriend a handjob, and feel kind of skanky for the experience.  Ok, not that I did it, but that I did it so soon.  I mean, haha, two weeks ago I had never been kissed and now...yeah, I'm just flirting with "ho-bag." 

Moral of the story, I'm happy as a clam...but a dirty clam...and that's probably dirty in a very good way.  God I need help, haha.

I'm in my autumnal funk, usually where I assume no man shall compare to Logan.  I talk to him incessantly during this period, and usually it's when I do my venting, fair enough.  I know nothing will happen there, this does NOT mean I wouldn't like it.

Wednesday night, I actually went OUT and met someone...who didn't know anyone sharing my DNA.  He's a nice guy, close family, drives, has job, owns home.  Then...I am totally compelled to ask, what would he see in me?!  Apparently enough to want to pursue a relationship, which is weird, because...I've never done that before.  I mean, my social skills are notoriously awful, and I didn't bring up hookers in the first 15 minutes...so I did well, I thought.  So, he met me IN PERSON, and still dug me...weird guy, but...I guess he's my boyfriend?  This is of course the cue for Amanda to pipe in, "Ohmigod...KEHLIE'S GOT A BOYFRIEND, KEHLIE'S GOT A BOYFRIEND!  Better text Dad, because I'll be doing that, all day long tomorrow."  She loves the annoying older sister role, she needs a hobby.  Also...he's kind of religious, which...is also weird.  I mean, I've never been into that, but he's cool with my lack of faith, or whatever you so call it.  I felt pretty damn cool when he offered to throw away his "born again virgin" thing...five years celibate.  He also said he "likes the way I'm built"...which was kind of...odd.  Oh well, I figure, you never know what can happen.

Oh, I became a texting addict...within 24 hours of sending my first text.  I've been talking to Tiff pretty constantly, fortunately she too is an addict, and my sisters too.  Thus...Kehlie has joined the 21st century and gotten a boyfriend...within a week...WHAT...THEFUCK?

Today...was a good day.  I had an interview which is wicked cool, in some respects.  It beats Saturday though.  Saturday I broke down.  I called dude, I vented.  I hate venting, to someone, on the phone.  I have to start from the beginning though.

Saturday Morning:
Diana says she has things to do.  The computer wasn't working, I was peeved.  I decided I would go on a mad hunt to find the computer in the basement, that we had in storage.  While doing that, it would be best to sort through boxes.  It shouldn't have been a big thing, but...it was.  I had gotten to this box containing my photo album.  My life was not only packed in boxes, but it stopped at 15.  I was 18 when I packed them.  Nothing was even indicative of my being over 13, which was just depressing.  I NEVER AGED.  The pictures stopped at 15, but everything else...was the same. 

Saturday Afternoon:
I cried, hard.  I sat on top of a filing cabinet in a room with barely enough room to walk, and I cried.  I cried because I went from 13 to 20, and growing up NOW and being so scared to do it.  I cried because everything seemed easier.  I cried because I wanted someone to hold me and say it would all be alright.  So, I called him.  He said everything would be alright, that I wasn't going crazy and it was just part of getting older.  I nearly wanted to chuck something at him, because I would have been better equipped to hear I was nuts. 

I've been doing these things a lot lately.  I've been becoming WAAAY more emotional and it terrifies me.  Maybe it's a good thing, but...I'm not sure.  I guess that's it, I don't know, and THAT'S the most terrifying thing of all.

Today was a good day.  Today I didn't freak out, or do anything totally irrational.  Today, I've managed to form some semblance of the reality of adulthood and that it only gets worse from here.  Today, I realized it's only worse if I MAKE it worse...and we'll see.

*NOTE - If you are NOT sensing what will be contained in here...I will warn you if you have small children nearby, a stomach condition, no sense of humor, a Persian cat or a hangnail, or if you are easily offended you should probably turn back.*



Again, some of you may not know me well enough to know...I am incredibly crude.  There's no better term for it even.  You know those teenage boys who made those dirty joke and laughed hysterically?  That's pretty much what I am.

To be clear, I am a virgin.  I'm generally quite alright with this.  I'm very open about it for the most part.  Haha, I don't send out visuals, but I have no problem venting that I have NEEDS.  This is not to be construed as to mean that I need HELP from anyone, I merely have no shame.  I don't even have the sensor saying, "Oh...I shouldn't say this."  Masturabtion, totally healthy, I do it a lot.  Everyone KNOWS this too.  It's not a big deal.  When I was 12 I was given free reign of the porn library, which I humbly refused, and went behind Dad's back and looked online. 

I have two sisters and a brother, our dad is one of four boys.  Our grandparents weren't fond of clothes, and the four boys were raised accordingly.  I can not speak of the raising of my cousins, as I was not there, but I will say they DO enjoy the same sense of humor.  Dad was unconventional though.  He had a very, "I won't recommend it, but if you want to do it...here's the scoop," attitude. 

Sex, drugs and rock n' roll...it's Dad's thing.  The drugs, honestly weren't more than booze and weed, but in his day he loved both to excess.  After giving those up, food was the next big love.  He's a good cook, taught me young, and I love to cook too.  Dad's always been a big guy, minus a few years when he lived on Miller Lite and weed.  He quit the weed when it became grounds to loose his pilot's license.  Anyway, my dad has been about 350 lbs, most of my life.  (I clearly inherited any gluttony gene there is.)  But the point is, I was exposed to it all, given the opportunity, and I was a black sheep. 

I rebelled.  Now, I did have a instance when I was 14 where I wanted to be a total ho-bag.  It turned into a boy yelling rape, and my just saying that I'm friendly.  I still chase THAT piece after six years...I'm determined.  My dad offered us a motel room for my 15th birthday, and I shut down out of rebellion, to an extent.  I mean...that was NOT my dad's intent, but...it worked.  Thus, to this day, I am wholly untouched, never smoked or drank, and don't really care to advance these things unnecessarily.

My family is crude, as you may say.  Conversations of piss writing are often told at the table.  Dirty jokes are a must, and past the age of seven, you don't need to cover your ears.  Dirty jokes...actually, its an odd thing, Dad called, a few days ago to say, "HEY, Kehlie, what do you call a virgin on a waterbed?"  "I don't know Dad, what?"  "A cherry float!!"

My sisters...they're GREAT.  One is 29, one is 18, both are more experienced than I am.  Upon meeting my recent fellow of interest, I was told by the younger to "FUCK HIM FOR MEEEE!!!"  The older merely saying, "Be safe...knees together, unless their together around his head."  Her opinion of the latter, "It's so good, that is how people should say hello!"

Growing up unconventially has been a struggle for the younger as of late.  Her boyfriend wants to wait.  Most girls would think, "Gee whiz, he really respects me, what a great guy."  Instead, in our family, you are more apt to hear, "Why is he NOT fucking me?!"  I know I have uttered those words a time or two. 

The older, I never was around much until moving back home.  She is frankly, a reformed slut.  I hear stories, stories not needed.  Gramps's funeral was conducted by an old family friend, who had his deckhands ferrying visitors to and fro.  One of these deckhands went by the name of Hammerhead.  Hammerhead was loved by the vaginas of all of us innocent lasses present.  We spoke of Hammerhead just today and Amanda says, "Oooh, I just want to take pictures, and use you for sex."  I had to add, "Because even if you don't do it WITH me, I'll be doing it at home...thinking of you." 

We went to Lock and Dam 15, which is kind of a bit of childhood for us.  This is where we dicussed Hammerhead, and how we wanted to go 'trol for deckhands, to get into the business by marriage.  It's non-commital commitment.  You have a month away from the dude, and he comes back for a month at home, it's the best of both worlds.  Not to mention, they love it when you flash them.  These guys also talk like sailors, such as us.  They would laugh at things like "Mike Sweeny = Mike's weenie" and "Big Fat Reed's Creamery."  Then there's the slightly obscure statement, totally taken sexually, or alarming someone of something that is NOT to be taken sexually, though they probably wouldn't have.  A classic example of something similar to this, is Chevy Chase in Christmas Vaction, but we do it with a straight face. 

This is the family where wearing a shirt saying "EAT ME" to Grandma's...at Christmas, is never really thought much of.  In fact, my grandma is on Facebook, and I will show you my default.  Is it wildly inappropriate?  Of course!  Is she shocked?  Not really.  It's the sad truth though, she may not have expected it from ME, but the thought that someone from the family did it, is not a shock one bit. 


"Blow Me" and "Tits"...two Williams family phrases to display love or awesome.  Ok, "blow me" is more of irritation, and it's a pretty regular sound at any major family function.  "Tits" means awesome, literally.  First, there was "tits on wheels" which is what my dad calls his two wheel dolly.  Then...everything, and I mean EVERYTHING became "tits."  We drove by a house in Buffalo earlier and Amanda said, "See that house?  Tits on the river!"  If something is so awesome, you can't even describe it, "Simply tits." 


My parents, being the hep cats they were in the day, will drive buy houses in the neighborhoods they grew up in.  Sometimes, it's unintentional, but suddenly, the car can jerk and Dad will say, "See that house?  I got high...in that house."  Mother is more apt to say, "I totally partied in that house." 

Thinking about all of this, I've really been lead to the conclusion that while yes, my parents were unconventional, especially Dad, they weren't bad parents.  They had flaws, yes, but overall...I turned out alright.  I'm happy being able to be direct and talk about sex, even if it IS sexual humor, haha.  It beats being embarrassed everytime someone says, "Twat"...it happens...a lot around here.  I love being able to find the Playboy bunny on the cover in five seconds.  Basically...I loved being able to decide for myself.  That's what my parents really did.  They taught me to learn where they screwed up, but let me know, it was alright if I screw up too.  While Dad is MOSTLY a hands off kind of parent, I think it helped more than hurt me.  Though...I'm starting to sound like a crusty ol' towboat captain, which is a pity.  Was it weird?  Slightly.  Would I have wanted to be in a different family?  No.  I have to really thank my parents for it though.  (I know...I look like Dad, and this was 1987, my mom was 21 and my dad was 25...but don't deny that you see the animal magnetism there too.)




Also...anyone who thinks they can last a Williams Family Christmas...lemme know, haha.  Seriously, that's not the ONLY requirement of the gents, who take an interest me.  I also prefer some base attraction, a trifecta of emotional, mental and physical is GREAT, but I have been known to settle for 2/3.  By the way, everything you have read above, makes me "friend zone" material.  It DOES exist!  Strangely enough, most guys don't dig it...go figure, haha.  It's not that I can't act like a totally civilized human being, I do in public, but in the throes of genetics...I go to the roots.  I cannot escape it, I embrace it.  If you find THIS funny, you'll probably fit in too!

I got a phone call yesterday...which invited this facebook status:

Kehrie ThePhantom Williams : My sister has been on the phone all day...with a boy!!

I was, but everyone acts like I never talk to people.  The snickers of Buddy and Diana at the dinner table made me feel like I was 13.  I suppose, in a sense, I am...as I never talked to a fellow when I was 13, that was silly.  I never even really liked one, until I hit 14, and I NEVER talk on the phone with one...not for five hours, definitely.  As much as it kind of kills me to say it, it felt right too.  I didn't really search for things to say, and there were plenty of times I just...didn't say anything at all.

On that note, however, the Facebook status WILL go to everyone in the family.  Grandma included, haha.  She even texted Amanda, though she had lost her phone.  My aunts, uncles, and cousins will see it, and snicker at home.

I have the house to myself until Sunday, at LEAST.  Buddy's telling me to use it, haha, but uh...yeah, that's not that likely.  Oh well, I'm off to take a stroll!

I rode the scooter the other day.  Sadly, my dad took a picture, and since I'm a big fan of public embarrassment, I HAVE to post it, right?  On that note, feast your eyes on me, and my ever present rainbow laces.

Things are really coming together since I moved back home.  I'm in GED classes, which are going great, all I need is to take the actual test.  A passing score is about 410 (if I remember right) and my LOWEST score was 630 on the pretest.  Of course Gramps dying was an ordeal, but it wasn't too bad, in the sense that it was expected.  I did do a jig upon hearing that Bernie Goldstein was in fact, dead before Gramps.  I wouldn't wish death on him, but you know...I'm not mourning.  Not only have I put out nearly 30 applications, one I have a special spot for.  Thursday I sent a menu to Marquette Transportation, where my dad worked for over 10 years.  I would LOOOOOOVE to have that job, but if things aren't meant to be, I'll just have to stick to land for awhile, I reckon.  I made a homemade apple pie yesterday, which is pretty darn good, if I do say so myself.  In fact, Dad said his only criticism was visual, as the lattice work would typically be smaller.  Personally, I felt the crust could have stood for blind baking for 15 minutes, but I had never made a pie crust before, so it was an experience.  Also, on the good news sector, while Dad offered to give me a ride to Paducah, should I need to show up for a physical, my Uncle Ward (they relieve each other) said that when Dad was on the boat, if I needed to get there, he'd be delighted to give me a ride.  I've actually never spent much time with him, not since I was a wee child.  Ward's son, Aaron is on the boats too, so he knows what it's like to have a child on there.  I mean, Dad hasn't had to deal with it yet.  I kind of think, as far as Dad goes, he wanted me to be better than him.  He didn't want me on the boats particularly, and only recently started to encourage my decision.  It makes sense, not just for the family aspect (though I'd be at a different company), but for the fact that I love to cook and I'd be given free reign, to an extent.  Fish on Fridays, steak on Saturdays and chicken on Sundays, otherwise it's mutiny...but everything else, I would be responsible for.  For 30+ days everything would be taken care of, and then the 15ish that I'd be home would be grand, and the only time I really needed to shell out money.  Anyhoozie, I think that's all of MY big news.  Buddy has a job, she's working packing cat food.  Mother had some interviews and thinks they went well.  Sadly she'll be moving place to place for awhile.  Diana moved her in here, and Dad's already looking for houses for them to move into in case she doesn't leave.  She plans on staying a couple days at her Aunt Kathy's, and then maybe a couple weeks with her brother, Jim, but she's not sure.  The shelter is booked up, unless you have small children.  I worry about her, but I just don't know what to say.  The things I do think about to say, won't do anyone any good.  I think though, even though Mother's situation is precarious, it'll be good in the end.  That's my big ol' update for now, and...if I get a job on the boats, I'll probably start up my song of the day again, huzzah!!!