Why I was targeted by a Troll.

So if you’ve followed along with me you’ll know that I have once been embroiled in the case known as POTATOGATE .

It was one of the most mysterious , frustrating and FUN times of my blog writing career.  For weeks I was tormented, trying to suss out the identity of the mystery sender.

We found out I the end months later that it was my friend from the states who thought I needed a bit of joy in my life. I love her dearly.

So imagine my confusion when an all too familiar package made its way to my garage….

Somehow I knew. Down in the deepest part of my bones I knew that pure chaos existed within this package mailed to my cat.

 

 

And so I opened it and I laughed and screamed and laughed again. It came in a soap box replete with a web address written on the inside of the box.

 

The best part? This link ACTUALLY led to a fully functional TROLL BLOG! 

 

I went to the usual suspects – my family, my friend who mailed me the first one, my other friend a city over (she just seemed the type to do something wild like this) and nothing…

 

So it was with an anticipatory heart that I began to formulate my plan

That’s right.

My husband SPOILED MY WILD ADVENTURE IN UNDER FIVE SECONDS.

A NEW RECORD.

So I contacted my friend, the ONLY person that I know that lives in that part of the city. It took a moment, but she admitted that it wasn’t her… TWIST: IT WAS HER HUSBAND!

Turns out while I knew he was a fan of the blog, I had no idea he was a SUPERFAN. Please go to this entry where he explains his Machiavellian plan (complete with his original hand drawn cartoons!)

 

Needless to say I was obsessed and super touched. And It made me remember why I loved doing this blog in the first place.

And yes, you can expect more posts in the future from me. 🙂

Why babies make me turn into a weirdo

I’ll be the first to admit it: I love babies. I love how cute they are, how sweetly they smell, how warm they are when you hold them. When I think about it, I’ve always loved babies – and not just of the human variety.

So when my friends get pregnant, I become like an overly-attached girlfriend. Suddenly I want to know what they’re eating, what their symptoms are, what they think they’ll name the baby etc.

I start becoming that weird friend with zero boundaries.

I also become a Doctor in all things baby despite NEVER having had a child because I love to read and sometimes articles on babies, pregnancy, etc both horrify and fascinate me. So random factoids get stuck in my brain and I feel compelled to share.

I feel compelled to buy tons of baby-related things that I find humorous or adorable. (I am so sorry to all my friends for all the onesies and dresses I’ve bought your children)

And I continue to harass my friends until the baby is out into the world.

 

Then when the baby finally does arrive I’m like the family member no one asked for. I will assure the infant that I will be like a cool aunt, in their lives whenever they need me (which they won’t because they have a family full of REAL aunts and uncles who will do that).

Sometimes I like to cement the idea that their entrance into this world is a miracle.  Because when you think about it, making and having a baby IS WILD. LIKE THINK ABOUT IT. ITS SO COOL. And I get excited about that, and I like to remind them that they are just at the start of their lives and the world is theirs to conquer.

My husband… does not always share these sentiments. He loves babies, but in more of a passive way. He likes to hold sometimes, thinks babies are cute, likes to play games with them sometimes etc. But he doesn’t seem to have that particular affection I do.

So really I guess its a good thing. He keeps me grounded and from spending thousands on onsies that no one asked for and from calling friends at 5am just because I had “a really strong feeling” that their baby would be born that morning.

Shout out to all my friends who have given birth and put up with my antics! I LOVE BEING THAT CREEPY PSEUDO-AUNT-FIGURE THAT YOU DIDN’T ASK FOR.

 

Why I have mixed feelings about snow Part 1

You should know that I LOVE snow. Like I am the person that is inherently lazy but will go for a two hour walk in the freezing snow because… SNOW!

People around me don’t always agree. And their responses this year have fallen into the following camps:

 

My Mom is especially bad. She has always had this irrational fear of us driving in the snow. I do not know where it comes from, but I assure you, it is rather embarrassing. One such event took place while I was still living at home while working and going to school.

Let me set the scene. It had snowed overnight. A whole 5 mm if that. Please understand, I could see cement and grass through the snow. It was NOT a big deal. But as I’m getting ready, this happened:

 

Little did I know my undying love for snow was going to be tested….

TO BE CONTINUED….

 

(also don’t forget to follow me on instagram for mini cartoons, contests and more! @oddbutniceblog)

Starting off the New Year Right

 

………………

Potatogate2016

So if you follow ‘Odd but Nice’ on Facebook you will see the occasional panel comic from me, the odd joke and perhaps an update on blog posts. But this week something new happened.
This.

This is a potato that was sent to me.

If you recall from THIS POST a year and a bit ago – I had been offered a free potato from mailaspud but since they only mailed to the USA my offer of a free potato was redacted.

So when out of the blue I went to the mailbox and found a giant package, I was very excited because we all know my reactions vary when it comes to mail size.

 

 

When I looked to the package I was confused to see that the package was actually intended for Gizmo. My cat.

When I opened the package inside was the potato. And on it said:

“Sorry you didn’t get a free potato but I did – Gizmo”

I was confused. Then I understood the reference. Then I couldn’t stop laughing.

Then I  was obsessed.

I tried face-booking friends. Interrogating my husband.

Then calling random people to see if there was any chance they sent it.

Then I tried e-mailing the guy from the mailaspud to see if he sent it.

Days have passed and I have come up with no solution. I am no closer to finding out the truth. But I have started documenting my journey. You can feel free to follow on youtube –

I will be trying to updating as often as possible – and don’t worry a new comic will be here in a week!

Feel free to like and subscribe to my facebook and my youtube channel to stay updated on this mystery. If you have any leads, please don’t hesitate to send them to missoddbutnice@gmail.com and I will reply!
Thank you and here is to solving #potatogate2016 !!!

Why I hate camping

Guys, let’s be real. If you’ve ever met me in real life, or read this blog for a while then you know two things about me 1.) I hate exercise and have the beach body to prove it 2.) Camping is just the worst and I will not do it unless forced.

Some people go, “But Katelyn, why do you hate camping?”

Seriously?

Fine.

Here is a small entry on why I hate camping but it really only scratches the surface.

My husband is an endlessly patient, loving person. So when he asks me to do stuff, I feel compelled to acquiesce because he never asks for anything. So when he says something like this:

I am forced to respond like this:

But in my head, I am secretly questioning why he married me in the first place and wondering if I throw myself down a flight of stairs and break my leg, do I still have to go camping?

Then to calm my anxiety I write down a pro and con list of camping to help ease me into the transition. The list normally ends up looking like this:

Then I selfishly pray to God the following prayer:

Then if a miracle hasn’t happened, I spend the night before our trip furiously scrubbing every inch of my body because I know that I won’t feel clean again until I get back. Then I lay in bed and watch the sunrise as I recount all the terrible things that will happen to me during this trip.

On the way up, I try to ignore the sensation of horror that slowly comes over me. But as I step out into the car and into the usually blinding sun, I am affronted with the following image of what I turn into:

So, this is WHY I HATE CAMPING

 

Why I hate camping #1 – The bugs.

Guys. No. Really. What is the benefit here? You hang around wilderness and you’re going to run into bugs. Odds are, these bugs are going to make a cozy nest for themselves in your ear, mouth or nose. Just think about that a second. Then re-evaluate your life if you still love camping.

Why I hate camping #2 – The Exercise.

This is the WORST.  Because you don’t have TV or Wifi, this suddenly makes people assume that we are all wilderness mavens. Except, some of us enjoy nature in the way that sitting in a hammock and reading for hours provides. Not hiking up a mountain so you can swim in a frigid and disease-riddled lake.

Why I hate camping #3 – The food.

If you can’t make it on our crappy little Propane BBQ we aren’t eating it. And guess what you can make that will keep in a cooler and is fairly easy to make? Hot dogs. Hamburgers. Slight variations of the latter. Because there is no way I am going to bother creating a nice meal to eat in nature while bees buzz around my head.

Why I hate camping #4 – Fire Bans

The ONLY good part about camping is the fires, correct? Campfires are what MAKE camping tolerable. Except, I live in Canada. The part that always has raging wildfires.  So we have nothing but fire bans = no campfires. I have not been able to camp anywhere without a fire ban in YEARS.  So it ends with my husband and I huddled around a campfire and me shivering and trying not to cry.

Why I hate camping #5 – Accommodation

Camping involves tents. Tents are gross. They suck in every smell that happens inside including farts and morning breath. Just disgusting. Plus, they ALWAYS track in dirt leaving you feeling disgusting and uncomfortable all night.

Why I hate camping #6 –  Activities

Usually camping means outdoor activities. Like hiking or swimming. I enjoy swimming. In a pool. With Chlorine. Without bugs. Nature hasn’t gotten that memo. So while my husband backsplashes through the murky depths I stare at him confused as to how this is fun.

Why I hate camping #7 –  Facilities

Between #5 and this one, I cannot decide which is worse. If I ever go camping, I insist we go by one with showers and working toilets. This is my must-have. But you know what? At 3AM as you groggily try to crawl over your spouse, unzip the crappy zipper of your tent and stumble your way to the bathroom, it doesn’t seem like that much of a saving grace.

Not only are you crawling around like a moron, praying no one sees you in your pajamas and crazy hair as you make your way to the bathroom, you also have to bring all your toiletries if you’re having a shower, including QUARTERS because some you have to PAY to shower.  And for 50 cents you get a 30 second shower leaving you cold and depressed.

Then as you’re sitting on the cold metal of the toilet, glancing furtively around you because someone has ALWAYS brought their child in and they are ALWAYS trying to peer through the crack in the stall to watch you pee, you notice a giant spider up at the corner of the stall which at any moment can drop down on you in your most vulnerable state.

So that is why I hate camping. And if you cannot appreciate that at least one of these arguments are valid, then you are someone who I would probably never want to vacation with. But my husband would, so there’s that.

This entry comes right on the heels of my vacation around Alberta – it was such a blast! But I apologize that its taken me so long to update! And special shout-out to Neil for giving me the suggestion to do my own personal take on camping! 🙂

Why vanity is often a useless pursuit

If my blog tells you anything aside from me being overly dramatic and a neurotic mess, I am also ridiculously vain. I wasn’t always vain. In fact growing up until I was about 16 I rarely wore makeup and dressed like a miniature mobster (a low ponytail with a navy blue Adidas track suit). I didn’t care what I looked like.
Then at about the age of nineteen I received the worst present of all time. But I didn’t know it was the worst present at the time. In fact, I was thrilled when my Mom handed me the package. Inside was one of those circle light up mirrors where one side is a normal mirror and the other side is a magnified mirror. It looked like this:

And it was my gradual undoing. For you see, this is how the mirror of doom worked.

So of course with that close-up a view of my face I saw everything horrible about it. Huge pores, hair, zits that I hadn’t even known existed… all of it was horrendous. And then all of a sudden my face became this barren waste-land of horror. Everything looked awful from my too-small eyes all the way to my underwhelming lips.
Because there was nothing I could do to change the size of my eyes aside from make-up, my focus became on my lips. Why weren’t they full and pouty?

Luckily (or really, unluckily) in this day and age – everyone is insecure about EVERYTHING and it didn’t take me long to discover something to plump up my lips without surgery!
It was a knock off of a product I will not name here because I don’t particularly want to give them business. It was plastic and red and looked like a weird hat for a mouse.

I sent away and was so excited when it finally arrived in the mail. Finally, my days of non-pouty lips were over!

So, fresh out of the shower that evening I decided I would try my new look.

You were supposed to press it against your lips and suck in. You sit like this for several seconds feeling your pride slowly dwindle as you realize you’ve pretty much paid to buy a plastic cup to suck your lips into.

And you know what? It worked! My lips were insanely gorgeous, plump and a dark pink that no lipstick had ever been able to achieve. I was in love and took lots of photos because I could barely believe it!

The instructions had promised this amazing look to last anywhere from 1 hour to 3. I imagined how date night would go – me with my plush red lips ready for a night out on the town.
However… that dream soon faded as I glanced into the mirror.

Yep. My sad normal lips sat looking back at me reproachfully as if saying, “Wait, what happened? We were gorgeous a few minutes ago!”
So I had a thought….

And because I am me, I decided that the instructions were stupid. And when they said not to keep sucking for too long, that they didn’t know what they were talking about.

So the next morning after setting up the newest season of House of Cards, I stuck the stupid device back on my lips and sucked….

……and got kind of distracted because this new season is insane and then I sort of forgot about the thing slowly numbing my lips… a few minutes later (please note you are supposed to do it for 30 second intervals) I pulled the suction device off.

My lips were very pouty. Not Kylie Jenner Challenge scary. But definitely not natural looking. And to my absolute shock and horror, my lips were bruised! Dark blue and purple splotches were at the corner of my lips and made it look like I had botched lip fillers stuffed in my lips!

Of course the stupid plumpness of my lips went down almost immediately leaving me with normal lips and horrible bruises still dotting my mouth. Plus on top of that, it HURT! My lips truly hurt! It was an awful feeling.
Being the proud person that I am, I didn’t want to show my husband so I covered my lips in thick red lipstick and hid for the rest of the day.
However when I awoke the next morning I was affronted with the consequences of my earlier actions.

My lips were wrinkly and deflated and overnight the bruising had spread all around my lips in a light blue tinge that truly made me look like I was undead. Plus my stupid lips still really hurt.

Yup. And it stayed like that for the next 20 hours. And no matter of lipstick could cover that up.

And just in case you thought that I was fibbing, here is a shot of my lips pre and post plump. I look like a freakin’ monster hybrid of The Joker and a Batfish.

And the worst of all….

This was the moment I realized I had gone too far.

 

 

 

Why I have been M.I.A.

Hey everyone! So I know I’ve been M.I.A. for several months and while I wish I could tell you that its because I am preparing something that will have you rolling in the aisles…its not. The truth is this:

 

I know. How boring? Its not even an exciting reason.

Its because for the last few months people will say: “Oh my gosh update your blog!” or “You should do this story!” and I am totally gung-ho about it and it invariably goes like this:

 

It’s not that funny things aren’t happening. Horrible events occur to be almost every day. I am a walking disaster. But for some reason I am having a heck of a time trying to put it down on paper. Or in my case, Microsoft Paint.

And so then I feel the following:

 

So I am taking a small break. No, it won’t be forever. I sometimes do short comics on my facebook page from time to time – I find them less stressful. So if you wanted to keep updated on what’s going on and see some of my comics please like MY PAGE

See you (hopefully) soon!

 

 

Why I had the November Blues

Guys I know its been FOREVER since I last posted, but it’s been madness the last little bit! But you have been the most amazing readers and so included in this post is not one, but TWO entries mashed together! ENJOY! And yes, I know its pathetic that I’m posting about November in December.

November is a weird month. It follows my favorite month, October. October is hard to beat. And it precedes December which has Christmas which I also love. So really, November just always falls short. On the other hand, at the very end of November is my birthday. And if you’ve read this blog before, you know how I DIG my birthday. But mostly November consists of the following:
Being cold ALL THE TIME.

Weather that is so crappy with rain and grey that it makes me want to do nothing but curl up in a blanket and sleep.

 

Or look out the window at the miserable weather and cry.

Its also the time when I leave for work in the dark and come home in the dark. If I work inside that day, my day has no sunlight. And that’s a bummer.

So this November 30th was my 30th birthday. A champagne birthday if you will. I was very excited for it.

That’s a lie.

I was excited because we were going away on vacation for my 30th somewhere sunny. The actual turning 30 thing?

Yeah, not really into it. It kind of hung over my head.

I feel my age started slowly creeping up on me in my late 20’s. At 29 the following incident occured.

 

And since I am one of the youngest in my friend group, trying to explain my general sadness about my approaching 30’s was always somehow a bomb waiting to go off.

 

 

Then it was my face. My once youthful face that now looked like a leather bag left out in the sun.

 

Suddenly shopping became a chore.

Shopping in my 20’s.

Shopping at 30

People started asking about my non-existant children, the fact that I still made a cartoon blog seemed immature and it doesn’t help that I have a 15-year-old sister that is on the cutting edge of pop culture.

Things I used to enjoy now just seem to irritate me.

But then my husband threw me a surprise party and I had my friends shower me with love and presents, and I had awesome readers like you say how much you enjoyed my blog and I realized that for the first time in forever I really love my job and my cat is starting to be more loving and I got to go somewhere beautiful and sunny for two whole weeks.

And that maybe 30 won’t be so bad after all.

So here’s to our childhoods! Our teenage years! Our 20’s and 30’s or 40’s or 50’s or 60’s or 70’s or 80’s or 90’s or 100’s! Let’s celebrate each decade we get because there is so much in life to be excited for!

And an early Merry Christmas Merry Kwanzaa and a late Happy Hanukkah to all my readers! And to everyone else, I wish the most happy of holidays!

 

❤ Katelyn

 

 

 

 

 

Why we should try to see the good

Once a week I take my client to the university my husband works at. On that day my husband and I take the bus together. One particular morning this week however, things got…well…gross.

It started with an adorable British mother and son clammoring onto the bus. They looked sweaty and frazzled. The boy looked concerned and adorable in his owl hat.

The mother was gently cooing at her son, holding him and reading him a story as the bus moved along. I thought it was so wonderful to see.

They were sitting amongst a group of young girls, going over notes, listening to music. Then suddenly, the boy began to squirm.And the words that no one likes to hear coming from a child (especially when you are squished on an over-full bus)

 

Then I saw it. The panic in everyone’s eyes as they realized they had a very sick boy sitting with them.

The Mother was trying to calm him down, but it was clear this kid was not okay. He started grabbing his stomach and crying. And then the mother did something that I think sealed their doom.

She cupped her hand beneath the young boy’s mouth like a bowl.

I remember thinking in my mind at that exact moment: “No, bad idea. You’ve just given him a makeshift bowl. He is not going to hold back.”

And he didn’t.

And like something out of a movie, it didn’t stop. He just kept barfing and barfing. My husband and I just kept watching in utter shock at what was happening.

And while everyone else on the bus just sat in mute shock, it was the young girls (the type that social media like to pretend only cares about selfies, boys and clothes) jumped into action.

With no ounce of disgust or anger, theses young ladies started handing the mother napkins from their bags, trying to clean the mess off the boy’s shirt and floor.

They were so calm and collected. They didn’t make a bad situation worse. They didn’t scream theatrically or yell. They just wanted to help out a fellow human being.

The mother thanked them profusely, thanking them for being so kind. They just laughed off the situation and did what they could to help.

The saddest part of the trip was when the boy and his mother got off at the next stop and the boy, covered in puke, looks up at his mom with the saddest, biggest eyes and spoke in the most adorable British accent.

Girls, wherever you are, that was really nice to see.

The point of this story is that we tend to focus on the wrongs in life. What people suck at. When people disappoint us. So instead I like to share stories like this- stories where people are unexpected. Where kindness flows so easily.

Try to see the good in people.