Random Thoughts on my Friday "lunch break"

Alone at the office on a Friday afternoon- kinda fun, mostly freaky. Fun until I think about all the sketchy guys that walk past our building on a daily basis. And the fact that the police call the neighborhood across the street "Little Havana".

Yesterday was the first day of summer in the SC. Yes, while all you saps in the North are just now breaking out your t-shirts and admiring the little flower buds tentatively showing themselves, spring is already a thing of the past down here. And frankly, I'd forgotten how hot it gets here when it's, well, HOT. The answer, in case you were wondering, is VERY. I know this because when I got into my car after work, my skin immediately melted anywhere it touched my leather seats. Seriously, it was gross. But tonight when I get home, I am putting on something loose-fitting and scandalous, making a margarita, and drinking it while reading a trashy romance novel on the porch. Ah, summer.

Nicknames: I don't know why, but I call less than 25% percent of the people I know by their given name. Is this a girl thing? Is it a me thing? Right now, off the top of my head, here are the names of some of the people I consider friends- Javi, Shaakar, Boy Scout, Hannie, Beaver, Nay-Nay, Hal-bear, Babs, Big, Little, K.O., Ryry, Marky (known as "Bry-Bry" in some circles), Mallo, PD, Pearl, Codiz, Piko, JoJo, Sushi, LB, Sofi-Pie, Hei-Hei... and this is not like an occasional name I drop. This is how I address my correspondence to these people; the way their names are saved in my cell phone. And I have a few names of my own- most notably, Karebear, Maren Killer (which Kristen so lovingly shortens to just 'Killer' at times), and K-Millz, which seems to be the current favorite. I just think it's strange, is all. Will I grow out of this phase?

I hate when I'm flipping through the stations on the radio and I stop because some fetching tune catches my attention and I'm like "oh yeah, I like this song!" and then two seconds later I realize it's a commercial jingle. And I feel embarrassed/highly worried about my taste in music. And then I think "I wonder if there's a full, director's cut three-minute version of the Purina Dog Chow song...?" (There isn't. I checked)

And lastly, very rarely do I admit to the extreme case of boy-craziness I've been afflicted with since I was just a wee lass (second grade, in fact- I had a massive crush on Ryan Sontag. He's married now and plays minor league ball. Sigh... I should have made my move when we were cast as the shoemaker and the shoemaker's wife in our class production of The Shoemaker and the Elves).

However, it has to be said: I really think there are a disproportionate number of good-looking men in Greenville. Maybe it's because I spent the entirety of my adolescence and early adulthood in Monroe and Hillsdale, respectively, but almost daily I only narrowly miss involving myself in a fatal automobile accident because I can't take my eyes off the gorgeous guy in the car next to me... or the guy passing me in the other direction, or the guy in my rearview mirror. Seriously, they're everywhere, and a large contingent of them have taken up residence in my apartment complex. It's nice and all, but for once I'd like to just take my trash out without putting on make-up. Ya know?

Stephen Colbert meets Liturgical Dance

DISCLAIMER: I am not to be held responsible for the fact that this song will be stuck in your head for approximately the next 37 hours.

Whatever you're doing right now, STOP immediately. Look around to make sure none of your cubicle mates are paying attention, plug in some headphones, and then watch this video.



I laugh. So hard. Every time.

Taxes, Tea Parties, and Family Life

The title of our radio show today was "Taxes, Tea Parties, and Family Life" and I laughed when I heard it, because it so aptly describes my life at the moment.

Taxes. Thanks to a very generous refund from the federal government (thanks guys!), I was able to pay off my car today, thus checking one goal off my list for 2009. I'm about the only debt-free 22-year-old I know, and yet I still can't get approved for a credit card to save my life. Hello, credit card companies of America- THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOUR SYSTEM. (Sidenote: why hasn't someone invented an 'all-caps' button yet? I want to just highlight a block of text, click a button, and BAM. All CAPS.)

Tea Parties. Yesterday was not a good day to live where I do- namely, directly across the street from Chief's restaurant. They held a 'tea party' protest in the afternoon, and I'm pretty sure every conservative in Greenville was there... so pretty much everyone in Greenville. It took me twenty minutes to drive the half-mile from the highway to my apartment. But then I got home and my mom had snagged me some wings from Chiefs, so my world was right-side up again, which brings me to...

Family (and friends) My parents and brother were here for Easter and we had a great time in Charleston, camping and eating more seafood than a blue whale in November. The parents are still here, and I am fully enjoying regressing into my lazy 16-year-old self. For instance, last night I put on freshly laundered pajamas, and climbed into my bed, which was not only MADE UP, but with clean sheets. Ah, bliss. Ryry is back in Chicago, relieved to be away from us and free to read 18 hours a day. Here is my favorite picture of us from the weekend- It's a classic Ryan/Karen shot, where I am all huggy and affectionate and he is all, well, not.

My oldest brother is leaving today for a several-month gig as a ranger on Mt. McKinley in Alaska, doing avalanche rescues and all kinds of fun, safe stuff like that. He'll follow that up by biking across western Canada with his girlfriend. Hmmm. I honestly can't decide which sounds less appealing. I am nothing like my brother.

And lastly, today is the birthday of my BFFUTSOLFOHBFA (five points if you can Name That Acronym) Sushi. When we met in fifth grade (at my best friend's birthday party) my first impression of Sushi was "Wait, she's not Japanese?" and then "Why is she wearing flannel?" Actually she's Indian (Sushi is short for something that I can't spell), which explains the first part, and she's also the most American person I know, which explains the second. I don't think she wears a lot of flannel these days, but she did introduce me to a whole host of important cultural things. Namely, the Disney Channel, Smirnoff Ice, and lentils. We logged a lot of hours in her room watching footage of NSYNC's television appearances and eating pop-tarts, for which I will be eternally grateful.

Mostly, though, I love her for being a loyal friend to me throughout the years, which has expressed itself in things like her forgiving me for calling her a slut in 7th-grade (I didn't know what it meant!) and patiently enduring my three-year crush on a boy we're all pretty sure is gay now (Sushi probably knew it at the time). So happy birthday Sushi- after a dozen years of putting up with me, you deserve a good one.

Ain't she cute?

A Love Letter in Springtime

Dear Publix,

I just wanted to say, you were right- shopping with you really is a pleasure.

For the past nine months, our budding relationship has grown and blossomed, like the redbuds outside my window. I can't help but think back to our first chance encounter during the Florida trip of '07. Even then, I was enamored with the playful yet legible lettering on your storefront, and your brightly colored resuseable shopping bags, priced reasonably at just 99 cents.

Your wide aisles are well-lit and carefully laid out, and your speaker system buoys my spirits with selections such as the instrumental tribute to Backstreet Boy's "I Want It That Way." It's classics such as these that set my heart to soaring.

Publix, your pimply-faced checkout boys never fail to respectfully call me m'am and compliment me on the amazing deals I've scored. You never get mad when I use dozens of coupons, instead happily accepting them each in turn, lowering my total until I am in the single digits. Your middle-aged managers are always polite and, though I never take them up on it, your baggers always offer to carry my groceries to my car, even if it's only two boxes of Wheat Thins.

That's another thing, Publix- Wheat Thins. You are the only reason I can afford their $4.20 price tag. Your buy-one-get-one sales, combined with coupons from the newspaper inserts, mean I never have to sacrifice more than a dollar for all eight and a half ounces of that seven-grain goodness. And it doesn't stop at reduced fat crackers, no sir- you alone can quench my desire for Velveeta Shells and Cheese, Chocolate Turtle Chex Mix, and the whole array of Coffee-Mate's seasonal flavors.

Publix, you have about a thousand convenient locations in the greater Greenville area. You are, literally, always there for me. While some might consider this behavior 'loose', I just call it accommodating. My rock, my fortress...

I know we haven't known each other that long, Publix, but I really think we have something special here. My frugality and your generous spirit make us a killer team and together I think we could do great things. Like stock the pantry at St. Vincent de Paul. I don't mean to freak you out or anything, Publix, but it's spring, and I wanted to tell you how I feel.

Until next week's sales ad hits circulation, I remain faithfully yours,

Karen

I would actually use this...

Google's idea of an April Fool's Joke. Such a kidder, that Google.