Henry + Kelly 4/EVER

7

B**ch in a Box

March 20, 2012

I can’t pinpoint exactly when or how I first heard about Birchbox, but the minute I did, it became nothing short of an all-consuming obsession.

For those of you who don’t spend an inordinate amount of time playing with makeup, the Birchbox concept is simple but brilliant: Subscribers pay $10 per month, which includes shipping, for a box of deluxe (often larger-than-normal) samples of premium-brand beauty products. Think Nars, Stila, Philosophy and Benefit.

In sum, it’s an idea made of pure, uncut, Colombian-grade KELLY. Birchbox couldn’t be any more perfect for me if it was made of non-conflict diamonds and tasted like Halloween Oreos and booze.

It was a complete no-brainer that I HAD to have a subscription. Debit card in hand, I went to the website and clicked “JOIN.”

“Birchbox subscriptions are sold on a first come, first served basis. Join our mailing list, and we’ll let you know when it’s your turn to sign up. Subscriptions are released regularly!”

“WHAT THE FIIIIIIIIG*?!” I screamed.

*FIIIIIG = Something way more prurient than “fig.”

But…but…it’s…made for me, you know? What do you mean, I’m going to have to wait? But I don’t want to wait! PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME WAIT! PLEASE!

I clicked on “Monthly Member” about 800 more times just to be sure it wasn’t testing my level of desire to have a Birchbox subscription. You know, to make sure the people who have them REALLY want them.

Alas, no.

So I had to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

But then, lo! The magical day finally came! In my email inbox: “The Wait Is Over! Join Birchbox Now.”

DON’T MIND IF I DO!

And that, my friends, is when The Guy’s Month of Misery began.

See, as the mother of a new baby, your days tend to go one of two ways, with no in-between: They’re either really good or really, really, REALLY bad. Now, don’t get me wrong; my worst day with Harper in my life is still better than my best day without her, but those bad days, man…they’ll eat your lunch. Some days, I swear she engages every single one of her infant brain cells in a pursuit she calls “State-Run Psychiatric Hospital: Let Us Drive Mother to It.”

She’s currently going through a bit of a stage. We can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but she’s been struggling with reflux and a fussy phase that babies her age often experience, and for a few weeks there, the evenings, in particular, were extremely rough. The Guy would come home to find me and Harper both crying our eyes out, with neither of us able to do a single thing to console the other.

The worst part was it didn’t get much better after The Guy came home. I could hand her off to him for a little while, but our house is so small that no matter where I go, I can hear her crying like she’s sitting right next to me. And this is going to sound kind of weird to the non-moms among us, but Harper’s crying bothers me. Really, REALLY bothers me. Like, it’s physically painful in a way. Which makes sense, if you think about it – I’m biologically programmed for her crying to bother me. But the point is, going in another room and trying to ignore it and let The Guy handle it is pretty much pointless, because as long as she’s crying, I can’t rest. My brain knows she’s just irritable and over-tired, but my body reacts like she’s being systematically attacked and tortured by squirrels.

So my Birchbox constituted something to look forward to. When I was single, I looked forward to Friday or payday or date night, and those days are still pretty cool, but they’re no longer fundamentally different from any other day. The arrival of the Birchbox would make that day totally different from all the ones before it.

Essentially, my Birchbox became a shining beacon of hope.

Finally, I got the email that it had shipped! I anxiously awaited its arrival.

I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

AND WAITED.

All the while getting more and more upset. I was seriously ready to throttle the postman. The wait for my Birchbox became a totem of sorts for all my frustrations.

ALL my frustrations.

AAAAALLLLL.

You know where I’m going with this, right? My anticipation for my Birchbox got blown way, way out of proportion, because it became like, “WHY ISN’T MY G@$#!*& BIRCHBOX HERE YET I AM SO SICK OF WAITING FOR S@*% OUR HOUSE WON’T SELL AND THE BABY WON’T STOP CRYING AND SPITTING UP IN MY HAIR AND I WANT TO WEAR MY SKINNY JEANS THIS WEEKEND AND WHY HATH MY GOD FORSAKEN MEEEEEEEE.”

Reminder: We’re talking about a box filled with MAKEUP SAMPLES, people. Maybe that state-run-psych-hospital business isn’t such a bad idea after all, is my point here.

The Guy, not really having much of an idea what this Birchbox business was, naturally assumed that we were waiting on a box made of actual birch wood that was filled with…I’m not sure he was even prepared to hazard a guess. Maybe something to do with perfume? A pygmy marmoset? Henry Rollins himself? Illicit drugs?

Finally, finally, FINALLY it arrived!!

Birchbox.

The Guy, Harper and I went to lunch and, with much fanfare, I opened it.

Surprise Inside.

Contents: Tea Forté Skin-Smart Teas (3 samples), Harvey Prince Ageless perfume, Color Club Neon Nail Polish in Age of Aquarius, Lulu Organics Lavender + Clary Sage Hair Powder, One Love Organics Skin Savior Waterless Beauty Balm and Supergoop! Sunscreen Swipes (2)

Was it everything I hoped it would be?

Eh…you know. Pretty much.

It was definitely more about the anticipation than the actual contents, but all in all, I was pleased. I mean, they’re certainly better and more useful than the samples you get at the mall (I actually use most of these items, though I’ve never tried any of these brands), and you spend a heck of a lot more than $10 to get those. No, it didn’t magically cure the baby’s reflux, and 10 pounds didn’t evaporate the moment I lifted the lid, but waiting for it did give me more time to come to terms with those things.

The Guy, on the other hand, was very disappointed. Not only was the box cardboard and not wood, it was filled with…samples?

“It’s like you got a box full of samples,” he said incredulously.

“Exactly!” I said.

(As much as we have in common, there are some areas where we will never, ever understand each other. His is the fact that he can quote Shakespeare to me, then sit down to watch NASCAR and drink domestic beer. Mine is clearly the Birchbox.)

However, we both tried this stuff (me around my eyes, him on his lips) and agreed that it’s super awesome and worth $10 all by itself, although I’m not sure he’d be down with me spending $68 on a full-sized jar of it.

One Love.

And here is a picture of Lola Mowis cleaning herself just because:

Sluuuuurp.

So have you ever gotten just, like, disproportionately excited about something?

Did it live up to your expectations?

Was it makeup?

Your moisturized, sun-blocked, shiny-haired
Kel

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12

And Awaaaaay We Go!

March 11, 2010

(See yesterday’s post if you’re wondering why I’m making up a bunch of questions to ask myself.)

1. Why haven’t you read Gone with the Wind? – Karla

Um, I dunno?

*Blushes, stares at the ground, looks vaguely ashamed. Kicks at a tuft of grass.*

I read Scarlett and loved it, so I really have no good reason for this glaring omission in my reading repertoire. Another shaming admission: I’ve never sat down and watched the movie all the way through (I mean, I’ve seen the entire movie, but I watched it in segments rather than all at once), which my Gone-with-the-Wind-loving friends (Erik) tell me is an absolute must.

Consider it placed on BG’s “To-Read” list.

2(a). Top three favorite books of all time?

Oh, man. This is a hard one, and my answers will probably change by next week. But I’ll give it a shot. In no particular order:

–American Gods by Neil Gaiman. I’m not sure any book before or since has affected me this profoundly. Not only is Gaiman arguably the best storyteller of a generation, that book will change the way you see everything – literally everything – around you.

–On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King. I’m an unabashed King fan, but this book simultaneously made me feel like somebody else gets it – like, maybe I’m going about this writing thing the right way! – and taught me more than Lord-only-knows-how-many years of English, literature and writing classes combined.

–While we’re on the subject of Stephen King, go read Bag of Bones. It’s the greatest love story I’ve ever read, and King has a lot of sweet, interesting and profound things to say about love, marriage and the secrets people keep.

–Awakening the Buddha Within: Tibetan Wisdom for the Western World by Lama Surya Das. A gift from Johnny B. Though I’m a lifelong Catholic and will probably always be so, this book, in a weird, roundabout way answered a lot of the Big Questions I had about Christianity.

So I guess you could say my favorite books are those that change me in some way.

2(b). You once said Stephen Hawking is in your top 5 men you’d want to sex up…really? Why?

Nothing’s sexier than smart.

Even if sexy speaks through a voice synthesizer.

2(c). Who are the other four? OK, Henry Rollins…other three?

1. Patrick Stewart
2. Bob Dylan
3. John Cusack

2(d). You have $100 to spend on yourself without worrying about bills/debts, etc. What do you spend it on?

Oh, EASY. A massage. No question.

If, for whatever reason, a massage were unavailable, I would buy clothes.

2(e). Surprise! You get to take your favorite Web Mistress out to dinner. Where do you wine and dine her?

Road trip! We’re going to La Petite Grocery on Magazine Street in New Orleans. Steaks with truffle butter – mmmmm.

(All the questions contained in no. 2 were submitted by our beloved Jessica the Web Mistress.)

3. Name the most bizarre item you carry in your purse. – Mer

I have a tiny yellow bag (for which I did NOT pay $69, btw), so I don’t carry much at all. A quick inventory turns up:

–Keys (dur)
–Wallet (I use a silver business-card case)
–Phone
–iPod Touch
–Gum
–Handkerchief
–Four lip glosses (wtf?)
–Pen
–Hand sanitizer
–Mimobot Flash drive
–Hair ties and bobby pins
–Tampons
–MAC black eyeliner
–Eyebrow brush

Yes, an eyebrow brush. I have this thing about my eyebrows. They’re a bit on the bushy side, which the Bible (Vogue) tells me is in style. Regardless, every single time I go the salon to get waxed, the aesthetician walks in and says, “Hi! What’re we doing today? Oh, your eyebrows, obviously.”

“No,” I say through clenched teeth.

Nevertheless, the insensitive waxers of the world have given me a complex, so I am very much concerned with the neatness of my eyebrows.

Of all the neuroses to have, right?

4. If you had to choose another career besides writing, what would it be? – Susan

I think I’d be an event planner. I like to read event-planning and design blogs for creative inspiration, and I think it would be really neat (not to mention challenging) to plan parties, weddings, fundraisers and corporate events around a particular theme. To some degree, I’ve done it before, and I really enjoyed it.

—-

To keep this from being The Longest Post in Blogging History, I’m going to answer the rest of the questions over the next few days, so feel free to keep asking!

(Plus The Guy just got here, and I want to play kissy-face with him for a while.)

Your smooching
Kel

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34

21361

March 2, 2010

I pride myself on my creativity and my imagination. I really do.

Even more than that, I pride myself on the fact that there is not, there simply can’t be, another girl in the whole, wide world who lusts after Henry Rollins with the fervor and intensity I do.

But boys and girls, I’ve thought about it all day, and I still can’t come up with an introduction that does justice to the following. Maybe it can be done, but I guess it takes a writer a lot more skillful (and a lot less impassioned) than I am.

With lascivious feelings in my, er, heart, I hereby admit defeat and turn the floor over to my future baby daddy, Mr. Henry Rollins.

OMG MUSCLES.

Preach it, brotha man.

Support our troops...with hotness.

—-

You’re a musician, spoken word artist, actor, radio DJ, writer and activist (among other things) who maintains a grueling tour schedule. How do you manage everything?

I multi-task as much as I can. When on tour, I get a lot of writing done for the next book project. There’s time in the day, I can get my workouts in, etc. When off the road, I can get a lot of things done. I have worked on book stuff while on film sets. The main objective is to keep stress levels low and get as much restorative sleep as possible. Those two things makes the rest of it possible. I don’t have a lot else going on either, so this is what I do.

Do you think I’m pretty?

Well, of course.

As an activist, you campaign for human rights causes all over the world. What are the most important human rights issues the world faces today?

Poverty and food distribution. We are already facing severe water problems all over the world as well. I think it will become a “real” issue when western countries start feeling it. For now it’s happening in countries that are feeling the lash of globalization and climate change.

Besides supporting you and buying books and records, what can we do to impart change?

I wouldn’t think that supporting me does any good for the world but there are many organizations out there that you might find yourself interested in giving some time to. There are things happening in your area that you can be part of. I really think that if people just looked around a little more and took the smallest amount of action, you would see a lot of change for the better. Helping others is often one of the better parts of the day.

How did you make the transition between your different careers?

I don’t. It’s all work to me. They all require dedication and focus. I am not really equipped to do any of the things I do so I just go for it as best I can and try not to get fired.

Did you make a conscious decision to pursue these things, or did the opportunities present themselves first?

For the most part, the opportunities came to me. The music lead to the film and voice over work, the talking shows have taken me to other things as well. I come from the minimum wage working world and have been extremely lucky for the opportunities that have come my way.

What advice can you give Bachelor Girl readers about being ready to take advantage of opportunities that come their way?

Be prepared to look foolish, it’s part of growth. You have to be ready to go for things that you might not be all that prepared for and most importantly, don’t take yourself too seriously. Failure is just a lesson and a temporary setback.

I’m using this opportunity to show you how great I am.

You’re doing a great job.

We enjoy reading your dispatches from the often exotic and remote places you go on tour. How do you maintain such a high level of passion and enthusiasm in less than ideal circumstances?

It’s often the more intense locations that make for a more emotional connection to the location. When I am in Africa or Asia, things are often less than good but extremely vivd and it’s hard not to be affected by it all.

What’s a bad day for you?

Not getting enough things done. I am usually on a schedule and not getting all the things done gets to me. Having to do things without enough sleep is a drag but it happens all the time for me. Past that, all my days are pretty much the same.

What’s your favorite color? Is it brown? My eyes are brown.

I guess my favorite color is brown.

As busy as you are, how do you make time for a personal life?

I don’t really see the distinction between personal life or any other kind of life. I am alive all the time, that’s as far as I think about it. If you’re asking about a relationship that’s not work oriented, that has always been a lower priority on my food chain.

Would you make time for me, Henry?

I’d have to check my schedule.

Hmph.

You’ve never been married (that we know of). In your mind, what are some of the advantages of remaining single?

I don’t have to matter to anyone if I go somewhere and get killed. I don’t have to slow down when I don’t want to. Basically, I have options, that’s key.

We don’t have to get married.

I am glad you’re a progressively-minded person.

What is the scariest situation in which you ever found yourself?

Getting shot at was pretty scary.

How did you handle it?

By standing in the right place so the bullets missed.

Would you protect me?

As best I could.

Swoon.

What are three bands we should be listening to?

The Hawnay Troof, Tinariwen [and] Marnie Stern.

Though I was born here in Shreveport, I grew up in a hick town in Nowhere, East Texas, with the closest mall being 45 minutes away. Occasionally, I prevailed upon my mom to drive me there, where I would go straight to the record store which, at that time, had several free music magazines in racks at the front of the store. When I was maybe about 13 or 14, I got one in which there was an article about you. Naturally, it mentioned Black Flag. Curious, I somehow got my hands on a Black Flag cassette, and it was, to say the least, a revelation. I hadn’t known before that music could be like that. Somehow or other, I figured out that Black Flag was part of a genre known as “punk music,” which led me to seek out other punk bands like the Sex Pistols, The Clash, The Kinks, etc. This style of music not only informed my musical tastes, it continues to influence me as a writer as well.

What is it about music that has the power to influence people so fundamentally, even across genres and mediums?

I think that music is like a dog. It’s hard not to like a dog that’s wagging its tail. Most music as a beat, all living humans have a heartbeat, I think this is a big part of it. Lyrics often speak louder than other forms for many people. There’s an emotional connection one can make with music. It’s the perfect partner, it never seeks divorce, never cheats on you, etc.

What qualities does the ideal woman possess in the year 2010?

A job would be good.

Would you be disappointed if we only had girl children?

Not at all.

And one final question…

Is it alright with you if we induct you into the Bachelor Girl Hall of Fame as an Honorary Bachelor Girl? You’ll be in the company of Gloria Steinem, Helen Gurley Brown and RuPaul. If that won’t convince you, you’re going to have to tell me what will, because I just don’t know.

It would be an honor.

—-

Likewise, Henry, we’re proud to count you among us. Welcome to the party!

Your lustful
Kel

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16

Working Girl

March 1, 2010

First, the bad news:

This past weekend, I was supposed to go see Henry Rollins’s spoken-word performance at Work Play in Birmingham.

It was also supposed to be a reunion of me and my partners in crime (Platinum Edition), Mere and Brandi.

Long story as short as possible, I didn’t get to go.

The problem?

What else? Money.

Yep, this Bachelor Girl’s pretty broke. Not like “can’t pay the light bill” broke (thank God), but more like “can’t justify a 450-mile road trip, two nights in a hotel and the-Lord-only-knows-how-many Martinis” broke.

I love being a freelancer, and more than I love the lifestyle it affords me is the fact that I get to do what I love for a living. The trade-off is, of course, that freelancing is very unpredictable. I never know for sure what each day holds, and, likewise, I never know for sure how many paychecks each month holds.

Therefore, it became necessary for me to get a part-time job. Dun dun DUUUUUN!

At first, I thought for sure that this part-time job would involve me either wearing a g-string or asking people if they want fries with that multiple times per day.

Now, the good news:

Fortunately, one of Jessica the Web Mistress‘s friends was looking for a part-time editor!

So not only did I find a part-time job with relative ease, it’s writing-related and I don’t have to wear pasties or a hairnet!

I started today, and it’s super cool. The people I work with are awesome and funny, I get to sit at a desk instead of a rickety kitchen table, I GET TO WORK ON A MACBOOK (can I get a amen?), I get to wield a red pen and

I GET TO WEAR CLOTHES INSTEAD OF PAJAMAS EVERY DAY! Woot!

It’s going to take me a little while to get back into the work-a-day routine again, though. Therefore, I’m streamlining and cutting myself a little slack this week. So if I’m late answering Bachelor Girl comments or lax about commenting on your blogs, it’s just because I’m enjoying being an active part of normal society again getting used to my new job.

Get ready to pee your pants, ’cause here comes the best news:

I got an interview with Henry Rollins!!!!!

Actually, I’m gonna give credit where it’s due: Intern Chris got me an interview with Henry Rollins. It took a lot of plotting, scheming and crossing of fingers, but yes, ladies and gentlemen, my future baby daddy graciously agreed to answer our questions, including a few that were…um, how shall we say, less than professional. You’ll see what I mean when I post it, which will be

TOMORROW!!!!!

It’s the first Bachelor Girl Celebrity Interview! Can you even believe it?! Do you kind of want to barf from the excitement?! I know I do.

After our Henry interview was complete (and Chris and I were finished jumping up and down and squealing in my kitchen), we were all like, “Oh my God! We can actually do this! Celebrities will, like, talk to us and s–t!”

Riding high on a wave of Henry-induced excitement, Chris said, “We gotta do another one. Who’s it gonna be? Think. Go big.”

I paused for just a second before I screamed the first name that came to mind:

“PATRICK STEWART!!”

Your dreaming-big
Kel

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22

Men at Work

January 20, 2010

(I told this story recently in the comments, but after thinking – and giggling – about it for a while, I decided it needed its own forum. So here we go.)

A few weeks ago, I had my yearly appointment with the gynecologist. For me, this is not as big a deal as it is for some women. Being, in many situations, a pragmatic sort of person and not terribly modest, it just doesn’t squick me out the way it does other people.

I should also point out that every year, when I go in for said appointment, I always request an HIV test whether I really need it or not, if you catch my drift. I figure one way or another, it’s best to know. Besides, Henry might come a-callin’, and I like to be prepared in those situations. Don’t you?

Anyway, when I went in for this year’s appointment, I expected the doctor to say the same thing he says every year: “Everything’s fine! You’re perfectly healthy! Go on your merry way! See you next year! Here’s your lollipop. That’ll be ONE MEEEEELLION DOLLARS, please.”

Um.

Yeah…

That’s not what happened this year.

I’ll spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say the words “cancer” and “infertility” were bandied about.

I did not get my lollipop.

The doctor sent me to a lab across town for some bloodwork, along with my HIV test. For some reason, even though I requested the HIV test, hearing him say the words “HIV test” mere seconds after he said the word “cancer” made my brain go, “OMFG HE THINKS I HAVE AIDS OMFG OMFG OMFG.”

What was that I said earlier about pragmatism?

Anyway.

I handed the receptionist my credit card, paid the doctor his ONE MEEEEELLION DOLLARS, walked out to Fiona in the parking lot, got in, put my hands on the steering wheel and burst into tears.

About that time, the phone rang.

It was The Guy.

We had, at this point, been dating all of seven whole days or something.

“How was your doctor’s appointment?” he asked cheerfully.

The proper thing to do would’ve been to say, “Not so great, actually. The doctor has some concerns and wants to run some tests. Can I call you back in a few minutes?”

Well, the minute I used the word “proper,” you knew that’s not what I actually did, right?

No. Instead, I spilled it. All of it. In excruciating, minute detail. Oh, sweet Jesus.

Now, I’m sure The Guy’s brain was going, “OMG PLEASE SHUT UP PLEASE SHUT UP PLEASE SHUT UUUUUP I DO NOT WISH TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR CERVIX PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY SHUT THE F— UUUUUP.”

But instead he remained totally calm. He asked intelligent questions and got me to explain a couple things he didn’t understand. He was very logical and rational but nevertheless sweet and supportive.

(This from a man who, by the way, has no sisters. He’s an only child, so it’s doubtful he ever had to have conversations about these sorts of topics growing up.)

My poor father called next. When I said the word “cervix,” I knew, I just knew, that he was itching to say, “Don’t talk nasty! Stop cussing!” but he didn’t. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he said, “You’ll see. And I can tell you right now, it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference to me if I had known ahead of time that your mom couldn’t have children. Wouldn’t have mattered at all.”

As it turns out, everything is fine. As expected, the HIV test was negative, and all the other tests came back normal. I am not dying of cancer, and there is no reason to believe I can’t have a veritable litter of wee Bachelor Girls and Boys.

I texted my friend E., who was the other unfortunate male who had to listen sympathetically to a screaming, sobbing and otherwise hysterical Kel lose her s–t over the phone that day: “All tests normal! No HIV! Can probably have babies!”

He texted me back: “So glad you’re not a diseased whore! Congratulations!”

The point of this story?

I love my Bachelor Girlfriends. I couldn’t possibly make it through life without them.

But the Bachelor Boys rock pretty hard, too.

This one’s for you guys.

Your grateful
Kel

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26

How Do You Measure a Year?

January 1, 2010

2009.

We made a lot of memories; some good, some bad.

Many moments were exhilarating. A few were heart-wrenching. There were a lot of tears, but there was also a lot of laughter.

It started out full of promise and hope, and it ended that way too.

I spent New Year’s Eve surrounded by some of the people I love most in the world, and at midnight, I kissed a boy who’s one of the coolest humans on Planet Earth.

2009 was pretty good.

2010 promises to be even better.

Your hopeful
Kel

P.S. I mean, it’s a new decade. We needed a montage.

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15

1,440 Minutes of Inanity

October 21, 2009

Phrases Uttered by Kel in the Last 24 Hours:

“I’d wish I was in a wood-chipper too if I had the Cupid Shuffle stuck in my head & my role as Skimbleshanks was in question.”

“I think I just made my musical-theatre-nerd bones, using ‘Skimbleshanks’ in a tweet.”

“I find being fabulous isn’t all that difficult, really, if you take your vitamins.”

“I was like, ‘Man, I’m still hungry.’ Then I remembered the fries! I still have fries! Hot damn!”

“I have PMS and there is no candy in my house. This is a travesty. I have already pillaged my jelly-bean-pooping cat.”

“HA! There was one last jelly bean stuck in the cat’s head! Come to me, my sweet…”

“OMG I JUST HAD THE BEST IDEA EVER! I’m going to put my gummy bear vitamins in the pooping cat!”

[Please note: this did not, in fact, turn out to be the best idea ever. As it happens, gummy bears clump together, thus rendering the pooping cat inoperative.]

“I bought my artscare ticket and paid for my Boo Bag today, and it was pretty much on par with getting a lapdance from Henry Rollins. Like, there is literally NO WAY I could be more excited about this unless Henry was my ACTUAL DATE.”

—-

Clearly, I spend a large portion of my day fighting with Russell via Twitter and thinking about food. Particularly candy.

Still wondering why I’ve never landed that super-sweet job at Vogue?

—-

In sharp contrast, Jessica the Web Mistress spends her time thinking of ways to make our lives easier. To that end, she eliminated all (and I do mean ALL) the hassle from the SRAC Photo Fundraiser. Now, you don’t have to create a Flickr account or even upload your photos to the Bachelor Girl Group pool – use the new Quick Upload Form, and we’ll do all the work for you!

Jessica: Helping her fellow humans.

Kelly: Shoving things in her pooping cat.

Your preoccupied
Kel

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