Things Aren't Always So Easy...

So it's been a few days and they're still staying with us, which isn't so bad because they don't really have personalities that rub you raw or anything, but... There are a few problems. Like the fact that we're down to the last roll of toilet paper, or that we bought more than enough food but somehow there are only five days worth of it left... See what I'm saying? Not to mention that tea doesn't last even a day around here anymore, where before it at least lasted a couple... And the dishes, sweet jegus, the dishes...

It's kinda frustrating, especially with this lack of jobage over here. I sent in applications, but without a phone, I can't really know if anyone called, because the Hedgehog can't always answer his, and if they wanted me to come in for an interview, then he couldn't run home to tell me... *sigh*

The Weekly Kit: Gingerbread Kit

I'm a cookie!

Diabolical Diabotical Diabetic

The other night the Hedgehog tried to say diabolical... and it came out diabotical; so then he rolled with it, and now we have this: an angry robot made of sugar.

Check Out This Cake!

So I've been hard at work on the Oh Bento! comic this weekend and all of today... Some funny stuff has happened, but honestly? The Hedgehog is funny so often that it's hard to pick something that he does and do a post about it... not to mention a lot of it is weird humor you just have to be there for it. Some of it is even hard to remember afterwards, no matter how hard I laughed at the time... So, instead... Here's something I worked hard on for the webcomic for you guys to enjoy.

Dynamite In A Biscuit

"French food: it's dynamite in a biscuit." -  The Blonde One

I AM HAPPY CHEESE!

The other night the Hedgehog and I were eating grapes and cheese and watching In The Name of The King... While he wasn't looking I took the tip of the knife and carved this happy face into a chunk of cheese... Then turned and shoved it in his face while yelling, "I AM HAPPY CHEESE!"

Bonus Kit: Hot Chocolate Kit

... Not sure if this is appropriate, cause... you know... I'm naked...

My Drunken Post

Well, tonight me and the Hedgehog finally celebrate my 21st birthday… by making drinks from the Drunken Moogle. Come on, I mean, video game inspired drinks? And us being huge ass nerds? Hells yeah we’re gonna drink video game inspired cocktails! If I’m drinking it’s gonna be that!

We tried the Anti-Sora drink… The Hedgehog liked it, but I hate grape, so… And there was this Gears of War drink with Cheerwine… but there was too much vodka… It was way too bitter.

The Pokemon drinks are awesome, though. The Squirtle shot was intense, but coconuty afterwards, and the Wartortle was… Yummy.

So far I’m feeling pretty good, not too fuzzy in the head. We’re watching Troy, only I keep sprouting all sorts of mythology. Curse you mythology class and my own paganism and love of mythology! Curse you and my now fuzzy arms!

Okay, so I’m starting to feel a little weird now… I’ve drank alcohol before, and I can honestly say: I like the warmth, I hate the way it makes my body feel. The first time I drank anything my dad offered me some cheap red wine. That stuff tasted like what it was: rotten grapes and moldy old bread. I had some pink champagne when my cousin got married, too… it was bitter. On my 18th birthday me and Jess split a bottle of Smirnoff, and another time we drank Mike’s Hard Lemonade. I didn’t finish all mine, and when I went home the next day the Girl-Fiend spiked it with vodka and I finished it. I got past giggly and all the way to sits-there-and-stares. That was when my dad was in jail.

Another time me and Lulu split a six pack of mango stuff. She had to make me drink a second bottle because apparently when I start drinking I don’t like to keep drinking. It makes my chest feel uncomfortable and my uterus gets all hot and angry, then my jaws feel funny… Finally I’ll feel normal, but that’s only after I get buzzed, and then I still feel kinda odd in my muscles. Oh! And on Thanksgiving last year I drank a little too, the Girl-Fiend made me do it. Spiked my drink.



Well, apparently I’m okay enough to type. So…

Seriously. I Have The Best Boyfriend. Ever.

So when the Hedgehog came home, he looked like he was preggers, and told me to turn around. So I did. Then he told me to cover my eyes, so I did… then he said to put my head in a pillow… so I did. It took him a bit, but finally I was allowed to turn around, and when I did he had a cake in one hand and a giant Simba plush in the other. Also, he had a new book: The Red Pyramid.

Once, I told him this story about how when I was two I had this baby Simba plush that I loved to death; I carried it everywhere, and then one day I left it over at my dad’s boss lady’s house because she used to watch me while he worked, and I never got it back. See, dad quit his job and went to work with the lady’s husband. The fact the Hedgehog remembered this story and brought me the plush just… it…

Made me the happiest Kit ever.

FUDGE! I Thought You Sounded Familiar

So when I got home from lunch it was to find Hunny’s mom had sent me a message saying my dad had gone over to her house and had left his phone number… Considering I hadn’t talked to my dad since before I moved here in May, only a few days after his birthday, I was shocked. I mean, things have been difficult with my dad since I stopped living at home, and that was more than a year before I had moved in with the Hedgehog anyway. We're talking back before I still lived with the Home. In fact, at one point, I had told him that, unless he came to look for me, he might as well not even consider himself a father anymore because he certainly wasn’t acting like one.

Trust me, it was a hard thing to say, but it needed to be said. It was hard to get out, too, because my dad has these huge brown puppy eyes that just stare right into the soul, and it breaks my heart when he looks at me like that; almost every time he gives me that look it’s accompanied with the phrase, “You know I love you, right?”

Only the thing is… I don’t. Ever since the Girl-Fiend came along my dad hasn’t been himself… Sure he was the dad who let me go play in the street and run the neighborhood at the age of four, but he was also the same dad who promised me after mom died that, “I may whore around a little, but I’ll never marry another woman.”

Yeah right, dad. There’s something called common law marriage. You two have been together six years now. It’s official, you’re married to her.

Anyway, now he’s the dad who chooses his girlfriend over his daughter and who also does things like... gives away his daughter's dog without telling her; so of course I was surprised when suddenly he wanted to talk to me after seven months of silence. We talked for a little bit and he gave me my grandparents phone number so I could talk to them, but considering I know they hate me I don’t expect a call back on that message I left them. Mostly he just said he was thinking about me and missing me, and I told him about the blog and how that was the best way to check up on my nowadays…

The sad thing is, I think it was more guilt than love that inspired him to look for me; and you know what? Guilt is almost as good as love, so I’ll take it.

The funny part of this post, however, stems from the part where I went to call my grandparents and accidentally called him back…

Me: Hello?
Dad: Hi.
Me: It’s me, Kit.
Dad: I know.
Me: Dad told me to call.
Dad: I am dad.
Kit. FUDGE! I thought you sounded familiar!

Geeze Lady, Stalk Much?

I swear, the Hedgehog’s boss is a stalker… While we were out having my birthday lunch at this really awesome Mexican place with amazing food, which was only happening because he had to go in at 5’o clock despite having asked for that day off in advance, the phone rang… and rang… and rang… Finally I snapped at him and told him to answer it. Guess what? It was his boss lady… and she wanted him to come in an hour early. Oh, it gets worse, too… She said if he hadn’t answered the phone, she would’ve sent someone over to the apartment to get him.

No one would've been home, anyway...

Ramen-Box Hat

The Hedgehog got me the most awesome present ever:

Butter Dean

It’s a well known fact around our apartment that Paula Dean scares me.

I'm Paula Dean, ya'll!

On television there’s nothing wrong with the Butter lady, except maybe her addiction to butter.

Come on, people! She makes cakes that call for two and half cups of butter, and puts at least two tablespoons in everything! She has something called Gooey Butter Cake that is essentially a pile of buttery pudding that used to be cake mix! That isn't to say her food probably doesn't taste good, and I'm sure it does, and I don't hate her as a person, it's just that, well... her face is terrifying.

I mean, I’ve been made fun of in the past for being like her; it’s the curse of being a southern cook. Making veggies? Tablespoon of butter. Making rice? Two tablespoons. Making a grilled cheese? Butter for the pan and some Duke's mayonaise on the inside for flavor. Making a homemade cake? Melted butter for that. Making my famous cookies? Well, I use oil and honey... Frying eggs? Okay, I use olive oil.

I've got some confused DNA...

Hey, I’m part Italian, too. (And Irish and Romani and Native American and Swedish and German…)

"All this cake took was two cups of butter and your soul."

Anyway, Paula seems like she’s a nice lady on tv, but her magazines all have her with these perfectly white, straight, teeth and these wide pale blue eyes; the result is a set of soul stealing eyes and teeth that look set to rend your flesh from their very bones. I die a little inside every time I look at her that way; and I know she doesn’t look that way,  because if you catch a picture of her when her face is too far back, you can see that she has normal blue eyes, and on her cookware you can even see normal colored teeth that are slightly crooked in the front and natural.

Butter face terries me. Sorry guys, I’ll come up with a butter pun next time. Pfft…

Moving right along… Last night I made veggies for dinner, and the Hedgehog said, “Alright now, Paula  Dean.” Well, when I went to reply back to him, I accidently called her “Butter Dean”… Not one to let me live anything down (he certainly never let me live down “fub” or “bake-ed”), the Hedgehog informed me that my new nickname was Butter Dean.

I promptly died.

And then he made butter puns for the next ten minutes, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for this.

"You'll change your mind once I butter you up."

Today: Taco Kit

Having the nickname of Kit can be hilarious: every time you go out, you see something or another kit. Well, from now on, every Wednesday on my blog, I will have a picture of me being whatever that is.

This week?

Your argument is invalid, I am a taco.

Taco Kit.

My Man Cooks AND Makes Fire, What Can Yours Do?

I have to say, I managed to land myself a pretty good man. I mean, seriously! He's absoulutely awesome and I can't even begin to think of what I did to deserve him or how many karma points I had to cash in to get him. Really! The Hedgehog is fairly clean, hilarious, jokes around constantly but knows when to be serious, sometimes looks at me and announces I'm gorgeous for no reason, surprises me almost constantly, and on top of it all he can cook!

Maybe he's not a world famous chef, but for a man he can cook really good food. This is a man who definitely knows his way around a kitchen and how to rock it. I'm talking these really delicious meals, much better than the macaroni and cheese, omelets, or everything grilled my dad used to cook growing up; and aside from the incident last week he caught the stove on fire, there's been absolutely no problems with him in the kitchen. It was totally an accident, too; I told him not to use the front burner, turkey grease has spilled on it and was smoking, but neither of us thought it would catch fire, so... I mean, in a way it's actually my fault, since I didn't clean it after it happened and I'm the only one who knows how to take the stove eye apart.

Kit and Lulu (and Hunny)’s Adventures in Spanish!

Unlike most people I don’t really have a mom or dad, or any real family in general. I mean… yeah, I did have a mom, who I miss a lot, and I do have a dad, who I never see any more, and I have a ton of cousins and aunts and uncles, most of whom could die without me ever caring about and who wouldn't bat a lash if I died, but I don’t have a real family. Get it now?

I won't lie,  though... I had a pretty lonely childhood.

Instead, I have friends, and they’re the most important people in my entire life, you know, my Hedgehog aside. Three friends in particular have become more than friends, they are my sisters… that’s not to say that I don’t love my other friends, some of which have been around longer and know me better, but these three… I can count on them no matter what.

Hunny

Lulu

Jess

And a couple of years ago or so when I found myself homeless, the first time, not the second time when I went to live with the Home, they became my family.

Group huggle.

Yeah, bad stuff happens to me a lot, not much that can be done about it now, but it’s made for a lot of interesting stories and has led me to where I am, so I’m content with it even if at the time I was pretty miserable… Anyway, it was about to be spring break of my senior year in high school, and thanks to my dad’s Girl-Fiend home wasn’t exactly so safe and home-like anymore.

... There's no easy way to draw stringy bleached hair and leathery skin...

Oh gods you have no idea how much I wish I were kidding... She used to wear this skintight lime green track suit, and one morning she walked around in a tight blue shirt that came to just below the curve of her butt and nothing else: literally nothing else. She was mean, too, like... a thousand times more vindictive than I've ever been, but I digress...

Shirtless because that's how I always see him.

I’d already run away from home for a couple of days at a time in the past, so I knew that neither the Girl-Fiend or my dad would care or really come looking for me, so I took up an offer Lulu’s dad had made and decided to stay with them for a couple of weeks. He's pretty awesome, actually, and he jokes around a lot. Every time I see him he asks me how prison is, and then goes, "But seriously, you're looking good. Glowing." He's an awesome guy, he calls me Kit the Car.

I get the reference, but I can't help but imagine it like this...

I spent many a happy night.

Living with Lulu was a lot of fun, at least while the rush of freedom still had a hold of me; not that it didn't continue to be fun, it's just... after awhile I couldn't shake the burden feeling I always get. The first night there she set my bed up underneath the Twilight poster she had on her closet door and told me, “Don’t worry, Jasper’s nipple with protect you.”

Anyway, to the reason for the particular title of this post, Lulu’s family is Puerto Rican, and as such there is a good amount of Spanish spoken at her house. Well, I’m not exactly fluent, but I know enough of it to understand it and even respond in really simple cases… You know, what time it is, how I'm doing... I understand it better than I speak it, that's thanks to a Latin class I took in high school, and normally people stick to the simple stuff cause I'm just so white, so I can normally chirp back my short reply and feel kinda awesome from remembering stuff.

I could never do that with Lulu’s dad, though. When he came in all, “Como esta?” I sat there, panicking, wide eyed, staring at him. He was just so intimidating to me somehow, maybe because he actually spoke it. Most other people didn't really speak it that well, or were learning, or did it in a joking way and kept it short and simple and not often; he would speak sentences at me, things I understood, but it made me afraid. What if I said the wrong thing? What if I messed up?

Not that Lulu was any better. When she speaks Spanish you have to speak to her really slowly like she’s “a really slow retarded five year old”. That is a quote from Lulu herself. This made things really interesting around the house. Her dad would be there, just saying really simple things… asking me about my day and how things were, in really simple Spanish I could understand and reply to, and I would panic really badly… and Lulu wouldn’t help because either she couldn't or she thought it was funny.

It was all because I was a super quiet house guest, too. I don’t require much to keep me entertained, and I’m actually pretty shy and quiet on my own… I made him uncomfortable, he couldn't tell what I was thinking, and I knew it, which is why I later went to stay with Hunny; her family forced me into talking by poking and prodding and joking.

And me and Lulu and Hunny had some fun ourselves, like this one time we were hanging out at one of their favorite Mexican restaurants… Now, before anyone accuses me of being racist, I would like you all to know that I know the waiter spoke Spanish, I had heard him speaking it with one of the other waiters on the other side of the room just ten minutes before the incident… I have to commend the guy, too. Through all of our insanity he didn’t so much as crack a smile. He was really serious about his job.

As we were sitting at the table, we were talking about how there were really only two phrases that we knew in Spanish, the first one was “es un oso”. About the time Lulu said this the waiter came up to refresh our drinks. He had to be wondering what bear we were talking about and where it was… Or at least wondering what was wrong with us.

A few moments later when he came back to give us our check, Hunny announced to the table the other phrase we knew, “tengu en gato en mai pantalones.” … Despite hearing this, he didn’t even laugh, didn’t even smile, though she had just announced she had a cat in her pants. We all died laughing, however, when he walked away.

Oh Bento! Now Up And Running!

Well, with this page it's now official, I've begun my tentative journey into the world of weekly webcomicing... Considering it took me two days to draw and it was all on GIMP with my mouse, it doesn't look terrible...

So, I guess if you want to wait once a week to read about the adventures of a bunch of plush toys that look like sushi, that's the comic to read, and if you want to suggest webcomic ideas... I'm your girl.

I've got a lot on my plate, what with learning to crochet for Bubble Tea and getting my Secret Santa work done, not to mention trying to make myself a scarf so I don't freeze my tushy off...

Happy Birthday, Hunny!

Believe it or not, if it wasn’t for the Blonde One, I would never have met Hunny, or even Lulu and Tiffy for that matter. Heck, if it wasn’t for the fact I was so ridiculously talented, I never would have met the Blonde One!

No, seriously. We were in the same art class, and one day I’m sitting there drawing this anime style winged guard for a story I was writing, and she just sat down across from me and started talking about how awesome it was. By the end of class we were friends and she invited me to sit with her and her friends; I almost didn’t do it, since I normally ate lunch with Mir-Mir and her friends, but for a while there I kept feeling left out of conversations and awkward, so I thought I’d try this whole “making new friends” thing all my other friends were doing… That and I have abandonment issues, so I thought I’d get back at them for daring to make friends other than me.

This is the group I walked up to: find Hunny!

Can’t? She’s the blonde one… no, the one on the bench.

They were in a class lower than me, well, except for the one girl,  but we all loved anime and manga and art and writing and all the creative things in the entire world like acting and movies! Hunny especially was talented, what with her adorable kitty drawings and writing abilities, and her website, and her piano and flute, and sign-language, and clothes designing skills… We were awesome and full of win and spread our otaku goodness across the entire school! WOOO!

For her birthday that year, we all went out to the local Chinese buffet place, and we got the cute waiter:

He had anime hair.

It was the perfect start to a perfect storm of awesome, later we went to her grandmothers place to stay the night, and we made up a game called the Blushing Game. It was a hilarious game, using each other anime crushes and our creative abilities, we created mental images and stories to make people blush, and we even had a point system.

I remember that Tiffy like Sasuke of Naruto fame, and Hunny liked Dark Mousey… but I can’t remember who the Blonde One liked… it might have been Satoshi from DNAngel… I remember that I didn’t like anyone, I was past that point of fangirling and had moved on to writing my own characters and fangirling over the awesomeness I had made, but for the night they made a human form to the kyuubi no kitsune, and thrust him, half-completed and full of badassery, at me.

Eventually things downgraded into bad porn, though, when the Blonde One started talking about Dark throwing Hunny on tables and covering her with Buckets Of Butter… I fell asleep…

And then the Blonde One swore she saw the Tooth Fairy in the pendulum of the clock, so we all hid in one bedroom, and I slept in the doorway to protect everyone.

Thanksgiving: Redux

Okay, so I thought I’d get rid of all the awkwardness of my freak out from yesterday by redoing my Thanksgiving post. Bigger. Better. And with more awesome pictures.

How do I stop alienating my audience...?

So I’ll start this way:

Surprisingly and amazingly delicious!

So me and the Hedgehog decided that we were going to make pumpkin soup for Thanksgiving. It’s a recipe we stole from Legend of Zelda, and thought we’d enjoy since we’re huge gamer nerds. Though it’s seen again in Skyward Sword, you get to see some of the ingredients in Twilight Princess (pumpkin, onion, garlic, fish) so it wasn’t so hard with both of our creative and cooking abilities to make some. We made a pot weeks before Thanksgiving and it was amazing, so  we were ready to go!

This message has been Link approved.

Okay,  well  I made sure I was pretty because for a girl, looking pretty is like wearing armor for us.

A consequence of my Viking DNA: dramatic hair.

Well, because I was terrified of his mom and I didn’t know most of his family, I spent most of the day hanging out and talking to his step-sisters, despite a gap of four or more years between us.  It’s okay though, because they’re pretty darn awesome, and the Hedgehog treats his sisters like they’re  his best friends in all the world,  so after we had Thanksgiving dinner (more like late lunch) me, the Hedgehog and the younger of the two I’d met before went out walking.

It was a nice day out and we walked out to the mud pit, this huge open place where people go mudding, only we were walking on the path next to it. It was fun, we all talked about ghosts and crazy  things we’d seen, and the Hedgehog and his sister reminisced about stuff.

Then we broke beer bottles against stuff.