Alert! Alert! I've been browsing the Kate Spade website for over an hour now, periodically adding items to my Shopping Cart and then quickly removing it, lest I quickly click "BUY" in a spontaneous fit of Spade Lust. I need an intervention. Aw, but those tidbit plates are sooooooooooo cute! NO! No. Must. Write. Blog.
Okay, I made it. That was close. I was thisclose to rationalizing my way into a new bag AND new rain boots. Priorities, Pharon. Anyway, Happy Fat Tuesday! Apparently, Fat Tuesday is officially the the last day to gorge yourself silly before fasting begins on Ash Wednesday (tomorrow). Silly me, I always thought it was "An awesome reason to go out in sequins and fake eyelashes on a school night". (Not that I ever really needed a reason, but oh well.)
During college, my friends and I would get all snazzed up and go celebrate this "holiday" we knew nothing about. All we knew was that it was a big night in New Orleans for some reason, and there are bands and stuff, but as far as we were concerned, it was a pre-St. Patty's Day party. But with more beads. We'd all go out and throw on 10 pounds of beads, find some feathers, trade some girl a glow bracelet for a masquerade mask, and dance around drinking fruity drinks. We may not have really known what we were celebrating, but trust that we were celebrating. Yay! Mardi Gras! (Or something!)
I don't think I've gone out for Fat Tuesday since college. Sad. Now it's just plain ol' "Tuesday". And, depending on what I've eaten that day, it may or may not be Fat. Tonight, for instance, I'm at home watching Teen Mom with the roommies in our freshly HEATED house (yes, we have heat again!). To make it worse, I missed a text from Geo asking if I wanted to go out for a late dinner/drinks, because I was too busy NOT shopping online. Laaaaaame!
There are no parades in my 'hood today, no sparklers, no sequins or feathers. The only things I indulged in today were too much Crystal Light and Angry Birds. Ah, the life of the aged. I've changed, I know it. I talked to Madeline today and we both decided our lives were sorely lacking the fun and spontaneity of our younger years. She's way out in Chicago, I'm in frigid Minneapolis, and I have a feeling neither one of us is going out and tossing beads around like it's our job. (Madeline, you BETTER not be having that kind of fun without me!)
On the plus side, I did just snag a highly coveted hair appointment at a salon Kim recommended (but is apparently impossible to get in to), so maybe my indulging will start on Friday when I'm enjoying a Stella Artois at Salon Stella, getting my burlap-y hair snipped, and gearing up for a crazy fun weekend. And before that I've got Happy Hours, shopping, and Skype dates with Madeline planned. Turns out my Fat Tuesday this year is turning into Fat Week-After-Tuesday. I'm psyched. Mardi Gr-awesome!
Showing posts with label Iowa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Iowa. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Get Lost
“We have to go back.” If you ever watched Lost you know what I’m talking about. And tonight, friends, We Went Back. Kim and Nick came over, we opened some beer and wine, and got to work watching the last season of Lost and going back to The Island. I’m going to go ahead and spare you non-Losties and NOT write a whole blog about how much I totally love and miss Lost. I am fighting the urge the write things like “Waaaaaalt!” and “Chahlie, stay away from ma bay-bay”, and talk about things like how much I hate Kate and her constant “I’m coming with you” statements. I’ll refrain. But I will tell you this: If you didn’t or won’t watch Lost, your life will be unfulfilled.
Oh, I also want to say a quick little thing to Losties: Did you all hear about the 30 or so people who hit the JACKPOT by playing the Lost numbers in the lottery?! CRAZY! One of the creators of Lost joked that all the people who won are cursed. HILARIOUS.
Alright, moving on, I’m going to just confess something. Lost is not just a show for me. It’s actually a way of life for me. I get lost allllllll the time. As in: hopelessly, desperately, pathetically lost. I have no internal compass. I have no idea where west is from where I am right now, and if you asked me what part of Minneapolis I live in, I would tell you “Right near the Walker museum”. Because I have no idea if I’m in north, south, east, or west Minneapolis. It’s like my hopeless relationship with math. Nothing logical makes sense in my head.
I think maybe it has a little something to do with a couple things. One: I was not a good driver when I got my license. My mom restricted me from driving any further than a 4 block radius of my house. Rightfully so, though. About a week after being allowed to drive to school, I rear-ended someone. I'm an idiot. Anyway, TWO: I've only ever lived in Iowa and Minnesota, which all pretty much look the same to me. There's always just like a main road, and a bunch of side streets. I take the main roads until Google Maps tells me to exit. Not difficult.
Kim and I were driving from school in Iowa City back home to Minneapolis. We were trying a new route that I had looked up. Kim was hesitant. About 2 hours into the ride, we came to the realization that we weren't exactly lost, but we certainly weren't taking the fastest way. She never took my directions again.
I think that by far, the most infamous example of my knack for getting lost was when I was driving from Padrin's house in Decorah, IOWA to Iowa City, IOWA. I figured it wouldn't be too difficult. I wrote down some directions, popped in a CD and went on my way. Two hours later, I'm in Illinois. I know you're thinking, "But Pharon, didn't you figure out that you were lost when you were CROSSING OVER THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER?" No. No, I didn't know that crossing the giant bridge was sending me into an entirely different state, because shockingly, I have no idea where the Mississippi River is in relation to anything else. It's in the middle of the country. That's all I know. But driving around in Iowa/Illinois looks exactly the same, so I didn't realize I was lost until waaaaay too late. I had to call my work from a gas station to explain I would be late for my waitressing shift. When they pressed me for more details, I pretended I lost the signal and hung up.
I wish I had a better sense of direction, I really do. But honestly, with GPS, Google street view, and everything else, I don't get lost all that often. As long as I follow the directions, I'm great. But if I miss one turn, or one exit is under construction, I'm screwed. Did you guys know that if you call 411 and give them your current location and your destination, they can GIVE YOU DIRECTIONS? I know this, because it's on my speed dial. Well, it was before I had a phone with internet. The point is, I'll never have to suffer through the embarrassment of stopping in to gas station to ask for directions to place that ends up being "Uh, that's literally down the block" ever again.
Oh well. I guess I'm stuck using the numerous technological devices at my disposal to get from point A to point B.
But, back to Lost. We are re-watching the last season of the show, and I'm just as enthralled as I was the first time I saw it. The odd thing is, for as complicated and twisty and turny as it is, I can follow the story. Now, if someone made me DRIVE to a different city to WATCH Lost, you can bet I'd never get there.
Have a great weekend, everyone! Losties, this one's for you...
Oh, I also want to say a quick little thing to Losties: Did you all hear about the 30 or so people who hit the JACKPOT by playing the Lost numbers in the lottery?! CRAZY! One of the creators of Lost joked that all the people who won are cursed. HILARIOUS.
Alright, moving on, I’m going to just confess something. Lost is not just a show for me. It’s actually a way of life for me. I get lost allllllll the time. As in: hopelessly, desperately, pathetically lost. I have no internal compass. I have no idea where west is from where I am right now, and if you asked me what part of Minneapolis I live in, I would tell you “Right near the Walker museum”. Because I have no idea if I’m in north, south, east, or west Minneapolis. It’s like my hopeless relationship with math. Nothing logical makes sense in my head.
I think maybe it has a little something to do with a couple things. One: I was not a good driver when I got my license. My mom restricted me from driving any further than a 4 block radius of my house. Rightfully so, though. About a week after being allowed to drive to school, I rear-ended someone. I'm an idiot. Anyway, TWO: I've only ever lived in Iowa and Minnesota, which all pretty much look the same to me. There's always just like a main road, and a bunch of side streets. I take the main roads until Google Maps tells me to exit. Not difficult.
Kim and I were driving from school in Iowa City back home to Minneapolis. We were trying a new route that I had looked up. Kim was hesitant. About 2 hours into the ride, we came to the realization that we weren't exactly lost, but we certainly weren't taking the fastest way. She never took my directions again.
I think that by far, the most infamous example of my knack for getting lost was when I was driving from Padrin's house in Decorah, IOWA to Iowa City, IOWA. I figured it wouldn't be too difficult. I wrote down some directions, popped in a CD and went on my way. Two hours later, I'm in Illinois. I know you're thinking, "But Pharon, didn't you figure out that you were lost when you were CROSSING OVER THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER?" No. No, I didn't know that crossing the giant bridge was sending me into an entirely different state, because shockingly, I have no idea where the Mississippi River is in relation to anything else. It's in the middle of the country. That's all I know. But driving around in Iowa/Illinois looks exactly the same, so I didn't realize I was lost until waaaaay too late. I had to call my work from a gas station to explain I would be late for my waitressing shift. When they pressed me for more details, I pretended I lost the signal and hung up.
I wish I had a better sense of direction, I really do. But honestly, with GPS, Google street view, and everything else, I don't get lost all that often. As long as I follow the directions, I'm great. But if I miss one turn, or one exit is under construction, I'm screwed. Did you guys know that if you call 411 and give them your current location and your destination, they can GIVE YOU DIRECTIONS? I know this, because it's on my speed dial. Well, it was before I had a phone with internet. The point is, I'll never have to suffer through the embarrassment of stopping in to gas station to ask for directions to place that ends up being "Uh, that's literally down the block" ever again.
Oh well. I guess I'm stuck using the numerous technological devices at my disposal to get from point A to point B.
But, back to Lost. We are re-watching the last season of the show, and I'm just as enthralled as I was the first time I saw it. The odd thing is, for as complicated and twisty and turny as it is, I can follow the story. Now, if someone made me DRIVE to a different city to WATCH Lost, you can bet I'd never get there.
Have a great weekend, everyone! Losties, this one's for you...
Monday, October 18, 2010
The Name Game
I’m going to come right out and say it. I want a nickname. Like a really bomb nickname. This weekend at Geo’s Frisbee party, I hung out with a room of guys I ONLY know by their nickname. And tonight, I watched Jersey Shore and they all have nicknames too. I’m jealous. All I want is a sick nickname. A sickname, if you will. But no. I’ve been Pharon my whole life.
There was a brief period of time when the guys I lived with called me P.H.-Dawg. It was a sorry attempt, because they had been calling Perek “P-Dawg” forever. So, I just got like the Xhilaration version of that. (Please tell me you know the brand Xhilaration. It’s the like generic brand of clothes at Target.) Eventually, and for like a couple weeks, they took to calling me “P.H.” I kind of liked it, but it was so vanilla. But, alas, they stopped calling me that anyways. And back to Pharon I went.
In middle school, I was known as “Pharon the Boy” for a couple traumatizing weeks. A couple jerks in my homeroom plastered the walls of the classroom with pieces of paper with a Microsoft Paint picture they drew of a boy, and on all of them, they wrote “PHARON THE BOY”. I walked in the room, my usual happy-go-lucky self, and my jaw dropped down to my Doc Martens. I seriously have NO idea why it started, but kids are cruel. I took it like a champ, though. Mercifully, this one eventually faded as well. Thank God.
In college, I sent in that little form to get some checks in the mail. They were going to be sooooo cute! Green pin stripes, I believe. So, I got the box of checks and went over to Madeline and Kelly’s house to show them off. (Luckily they are easily impressed.) I open the box of checks for them, very dramatically, and said “VOILA!” We took one look at them and Kelly burst out laughing. The checks were for PHARM. Sometimes Kelly still calls me Pharm. I think I’m even in her phone as Pharm. But again, it just didn’t stick.
As I mentioned a long time ago, my friend Claire calls me Papou. I actually do love that nickname. When she texts or Gchats me, she always says “Hey, Papou! How are YOU? What‘s NEW??” I love that! It rhymes, it’s cute, it’s not offensive, it didn’t stem from anything nasty. It’s perfect. But, she’s the only one who calls me that. It’s kind of our thing. But I want to walk into a party or business meeting and say, “Hey, what’s up? I’m Papou.” I can’t. No one else gets it.
But none of them stick! Can someone tell me how to get a nickname that actually STICKS? There’s like NO nickname for Pharon. It’s basically a nickname all in itself because it’s barely a real name. Curse this clever name! Can I just start one myself? Like, from now on everyone call me “Snooze”. Because I love to sleep, it rhymes with Booze, and, uh, my blog is Pharon Square, which rhymes with nightmare. When do you have a nightmare? When you’re taking a little snooze! I can’t believe no one else has thought of that!
Welp, this is Snooze, signing off…
There was a brief period of time when the guys I lived with called me P.H.-Dawg. It was a sorry attempt, because they had been calling Perek “P-Dawg” forever. So, I just got like the Xhilaration version of that. (Please tell me you know the brand Xhilaration. It’s the like generic brand of clothes at Target.) Eventually, and for like a couple weeks, they took to calling me “P.H.” I kind of liked it, but it was so vanilla. But, alas, they stopped calling me that anyways. And back to Pharon I went.
In middle school, I was known as “Pharon the Boy” for a couple traumatizing weeks. A couple jerks in my homeroom plastered the walls of the classroom with pieces of paper with a Microsoft Paint picture they drew of a boy, and on all of them, they wrote “PHARON THE BOY”. I walked in the room, my usual happy-go-lucky self, and my jaw dropped down to my Doc Martens. I seriously have NO idea why it started, but kids are cruel. I took it like a champ, though. Mercifully, this one eventually faded as well. Thank God.
In college, I sent in that little form to get some checks in the mail. They were going to be sooooo cute! Green pin stripes, I believe. So, I got the box of checks and went over to Madeline and Kelly’s house to show them off. (Luckily they are easily impressed.) I open the box of checks for them, very dramatically, and said “VOILA!” We took one look at them and Kelly burst out laughing. The checks were for PHARM. Sometimes Kelly still calls me Pharm. I think I’m even in her phone as Pharm. But again, it just didn’t stick.
As I mentioned a long time ago, my friend Claire calls me Papou. I actually do love that nickname. When she texts or Gchats me, she always says “Hey, Papou! How are YOU? What‘s NEW??” I love that! It rhymes, it’s cute, it’s not offensive, it didn’t stem from anything nasty. It’s perfect. But, she’s the only one who calls me that. It’s kind of our thing. But I want to walk into a party or business meeting and say, “Hey, what’s up? I’m Papou.” I can’t. No one else gets it.
But none of them stick! Can someone tell me how to get a nickname that actually STICKS? There’s like NO nickname for Pharon. It’s basically a nickname all in itself because it’s barely a real name. Curse this clever name! Can I just start one myself? Like, from now on everyone call me “Snooze”. Because I love to sleep, it rhymes with Booze, and, uh, my blog is Pharon Square, which rhymes with nightmare. When do you have a nightmare? When you’re taking a little snooze! I can’t believe no one else has thought of that!
Welp, this is Snooze, signing off…
Sunday, October 3, 2010
In Heaven There is No Beer. In Iowa City There is Definitely Beer.
Well, the good news is that the previously mentioned blister that was eating my face went unnoticed this weekend. It didn’t end up to be nearly as bad as I had thought. Phew! The bad news is that I’m back home, and missing Iowa City and my friends already. Oh well, I’ve gotta move on.
But my God, I’m tired. It was a beautiful, fun weekend. But it was short. Geo did the math, and we were in Iowa City for all of 35 hours I guess. My body feels like it was 3 weeks though. Perek, Leah, Geo and I did some work in that short amount of time. The Hawkeyes won, we only had one minor trip n’ fall incident (not me for once), and we all made it out alive.
Now I’m just a hot mess. I ran out to Walgreens tonight and discovered very quickly upon entering the bright, mirrored store that I should NOT have been let out in public. Dirty clothes, dirty hair, no makeup. Seriously. Hot. Mess. Plus, I still had on my Hawkeye face tattoo all day, and to remove it, you take a piece of tape and rub it on the tattoo. Then, after about 10 tries, Voila! The tattoo is gone. So I did that tonight before braving the outside world, only to realize IN WALGREENS, that it leaves behind a giant red mark in the shape of a tiger hawk. So yeah, I looked horrible. Luckily, I didn’t run into any one I knew.
What is it about weekends in Iowa City that leaves me so wrecked? Is it the late nights? The long days? The horrible diet consisting of beer, late-night gyros and grilled cheese sandwiches? Yes, it’s probably all of these things. Yet, I willingly do it over and over. I look forward to it, even. Unfortunately, I don’t have any more trips to IC planned this year. It’s a pretty big bummer. A big part of me would love to live there again. I mean, I totally love Minneapolis, don’t get me wrong. But you know how some people “summer” in the Hamptons? Maybe I should “Autumn” in Iowa City. Best of both worlds…just like Hannah Montana.
But do I really have to wake up and go to work tomorrow? Really? It’s nights like these that I seriously consider playing the lottery. If I could just strike it rich, I’d stop working and sleep late every morning, in a bed made of money. Well, I’d have to get two Money Beds. One for my house in Minneapolis, and one for my 2nd home in exotic Iowa City. Dream big, people.
Well, I’ve gotta just finish chugging this gallon of water to rehydrate myself, and then it’s off to bed. In my plain ol’ bed made out of plain ol’ fabric. I’m definitely going to buy a lotto ticket tomorrow. Wish me luck!
But my God, I’m tired. It was a beautiful, fun weekend. But it was short. Geo did the math, and we were in Iowa City for all of 35 hours I guess. My body feels like it was 3 weeks though. Perek, Leah, Geo and I did some work in that short amount of time. The Hawkeyes won, we only had one minor trip n’ fall incident (not me for once), and we all made it out alive.
Now I’m just a hot mess. I ran out to Walgreens tonight and discovered very quickly upon entering the bright, mirrored store that I should NOT have been let out in public. Dirty clothes, dirty hair, no makeup. Seriously. Hot. Mess. Plus, I still had on my Hawkeye face tattoo all day, and to remove it, you take a piece of tape and rub it on the tattoo. Then, after about 10 tries, Voila! The tattoo is gone. So I did that tonight before braving the outside world, only to realize IN WALGREENS, that it leaves behind a giant red mark in the shape of a tiger hawk. So yeah, I looked horrible. Luckily, I didn’t run into any one I knew.
What is it about weekends in Iowa City that leaves me so wrecked? Is it the late nights? The long days? The horrible diet consisting of beer, late-night gyros and grilled cheese sandwiches? Yes, it’s probably all of these things. Yet, I willingly do it over and over. I look forward to it, even. Unfortunately, I don’t have any more trips to IC planned this year. It’s a pretty big bummer. A big part of me would love to live there again. I mean, I totally love Minneapolis, don’t get me wrong. But you know how some people “summer” in the Hamptons? Maybe I should “Autumn” in Iowa City. Best of both worlds…just like Hannah Montana.
But do I really have to wake up and go to work tomorrow? Really? It’s nights like these that I seriously consider playing the lottery. If I could just strike it rich, I’d stop working and sleep late every morning, in a bed made of money. Well, I’d have to get two Money Beds. One for my house in Minneapolis, and one for my 2nd home in exotic Iowa City. Dream big, people.
Well, I’ve gotta just finish chugging this gallon of water to rehydrate myself, and then it’s off to bed. In my plain ol’ bed made out of plain ol’ fabric. I’m definitely going to buy a lotto ticket tomorrow. Wish me luck!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Mama I'm Comin' Home
This weekend shall be bittersweet. The sweet? I’m going to Iowa City again for Homecoming. The bitter? I have a huge blister on my chin that is, well, unsightly. So all the pictures, if I allow any, will consist of me doing some random hand gestures that will strategically, yet not subtly, cover up said face-eating virus. So, yeah. I’m excited to go and see my friends again and hang out with a bunch of other aging college grads. I just hope they don’t cower in fear upon seeing my mangled face.
I haven’t been back for a Homecoming game since I graduated. There’s the whole parade thing and all kinds of events that college students participate in. Or so I’m told. After my freshman year, I literally did nothing special on Homecoming. But my freshman year, when I was in my sorority, we built a float for the parade, went to the pep fests, won a spirit award, and all kinds of stuff, so I know these things exist. I remember wondering if and when there would be the Homecoming Dance. We had them in high school, and I loved those. But, alas, there would be no dance. There would be awkward conversations and getting beer spilled all over me in the huge crowds at the bar, just waiting for someone to come talk to me.
I love the idea of Homecoming. They should have these in real life, like outside of schools. Imagine it: Homecoming for your favorite shoe store. For one weekend, you go in, hang out with other regulars, reminisce in the boot section about the days you came in for Birkenstocks and espadrilles. Oh, the memories! Or Homecoming at work. All the people who quit or were fired would come back, have a glass of wine, and after the awkwardness dissipated in a haze of alcohol, people would stand, arm in arm, and sing Piano Man together. Aww…everyone loves Homecoming.
Also, why aren’t I involved in more parades? I love parades. If it were at all possible, I’d put streamers, balloons, and a novelty horn in my car and drive real slowly around the city. Throwing candy out of the window. Fabulous!
But this Homecoming weekend, I’ll miss out on all that because it’s happening as we speak. By the time I get there, the streets will be littered with wet streamers and popped balloons. It’ll be like the city already has the hangover I’ll have on Sunday morning. However, the Homecoming football game (that I’m not GOING to, but simply tailgating for) is a night game. Since it doesn’t start until 7:05 p.m. I will actually have a chance to go in to downtown and shop on Saturday morning. It’s the little things, I guess…
So okay, maybe I won’t be wearing a sick body-hugging black velvet dress with a fur trim at the bust (yup, that’s the bombest dress ever that I wore to my high school senior year Homecoming dance), and I’ll miss all the crazy floats and old men playing bagpipes at the parade, but I’ll be with some of my dearest friends visiting my old stomping grounds again. If that’s not a great Homecoming, I don’t know what is. Plus, I can just buy my own 2 year-old stale butterscotch candies and I’ll just throw them around to my friends all day. I’m guessing they’ll love it. And it’ll take the attention away from my gnarly face.
Have a great weekend, everyone!
I haven’t been back for a Homecoming game since I graduated. There’s the whole parade thing and all kinds of events that college students participate in. Or so I’m told. After my freshman year, I literally did nothing special on Homecoming. But my freshman year, when I was in my sorority, we built a float for the parade, went to the pep fests, won a spirit award, and all kinds of stuff, so I know these things exist. I remember wondering if and when there would be the Homecoming Dance. We had them in high school, and I loved those. But, alas, there would be no dance. There would be awkward conversations and getting beer spilled all over me in the huge crowds at the bar, just waiting for someone to come talk to me.
I love the idea of Homecoming. They should have these in real life, like outside of schools. Imagine it: Homecoming for your favorite shoe store. For one weekend, you go in, hang out with other regulars, reminisce in the boot section about the days you came in for Birkenstocks and espadrilles. Oh, the memories! Or Homecoming at work. All the people who quit or were fired would come back, have a glass of wine, and after the awkwardness dissipated in a haze of alcohol, people would stand, arm in arm, and sing Piano Man together. Aww…everyone loves Homecoming.
Also, why aren’t I involved in more parades? I love parades. If it were at all possible, I’d put streamers, balloons, and a novelty horn in my car and drive real slowly around the city. Throwing candy out of the window. Fabulous!
But this Homecoming weekend, I’ll miss out on all that because it’s happening as we speak. By the time I get there, the streets will be littered with wet streamers and popped balloons. It’ll be like the city already has the hangover I’ll have on Sunday morning. However, the Homecoming football game (that I’m not GOING to, but simply tailgating for) is a night game. Since it doesn’t start until 7:05 p.m. I will actually have a chance to go in to downtown and shop on Saturday morning. It’s the little things, I guess…
So okay, maybe I won’t be wearing a sick body-hugging black velvet dress with a fur trim at the bust (yup, that’s the bombest dress ever that I wore to my high school senior year Homecoming dance), and I’ll miss all the crazy floats and old men playing bagpipes at the parade, but I’ll be with some of my dearest friends visiting my old stomping grounds again. If that’s not a great Homecoming, I don’t know what is. Plus, I can just buy my own 2 year-old stale butterscotch candies and I’ll just throw them around to my friends all day. I’m guessing they’ll love it. And it’ll take the attention away from my gnarly face.
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Wednesday Winner
Well, as they say at every awards show, “It’s an honor just to be nominated”. I hope that’s true, because this week was full of people who deserve the title Wednesday Winner. However, there can be only one.
Nominee #1: My Sister-in-Law Nicole.
Reason for Nomination: Until recently, my hair looked like a bale of hay with a rat nesting itself in the back. It was gnarly. After one visit to see Nicole, voila! My hair is shiny and healthy(ish). She cut and colored my hair from the comfort of her own home, while I got to enjoy a glass of great wine from my brothers stash (he is a wine/liquor rep and really knows his stuff). And did I have to hand over $120 for this awesomely wonderful transformation? No, people. Family discount has its perks.
Added Bonus: Nicole also very generously forked over some great product to help keep my hair from descending into its previous state. For no charge.
Nominee #2: Geo
Reason for Nomination: His previously mentioned awesome shout out to my good girlfriending abilities on his pod cast was great. Also, on two of the days I came home from work last week, he had made me incredible dinners. Salad and everything!
Added Bonus: It’s his birthday today! Happy birthday, Geo!
Nominee #3: My long-distance girl friends
Reason for Nomination: After spending the weekend with them, it was made obnoxiously clear how much I really just love them. We crammed into one bathroom to get ready (even though there are three in Kelly’s house, it just makes sense to play human Tetris in front of one mirror). We crammed into one car to get from home to tailgate to bar to home. We crammed two week’s worth of fun into two nights. And yet, none of it felt restricting. It felt, actually, comfortable. Natural.
Added Bonus: Not really a bonus actually, but it may be a loooong time until I get to see them all together again. I might have to strike while the iron is hot.
Nominee #4: The Ladies at the VMAs
Reason for Nomination: From Chelsea Handler’s pretty hilarious hosting job, to Snookie sans-pouf, to Lady Gaga’s meat dress, to Ke$ha and her garbage bag dress, to Rihanna’s awesome performance at the beginning of the show (take THAT, Chris Brown), I really felt the ladies represented. Sure, most of them were representing the lowest-common-denominator, but I like that. I AM that.
Added Bonus: The Taylor Swift vs. Kanye West battle. Each of them sang unreleased songs. But Taylor’s was great. And a big slap in the face to the dude who nearly ruined her VMA moment only a year ago. Kanye’s performance was only ehhhh. Point: ladies.
Okay, drumroll. The winner of this week’s Wednesday Winner Award is...my sister Prinna!
She announced today that she's having another baby! I'm so excited to spoil this newest baby rotten! Congratulations, Prinna and family! You have officially made my week/life! And I mean, I know having a baby is pretty exciting, but on top of all that: You are my Wednesday Winner. It doesn't get better than that!
Nominee #1: My Sister-in-Law Nicole.
Reason for Nomination: Until recently, my hair looked like a bale of hay with a rat nesting itself in the back. It was gnarly. After one visit to see Nicole, voila! My hair is shiny and healthy(ish). She cut and colored my hair from the comfort of her own home, while I got to enjoy a glass of great wine from my brothers stash (he is a wine/liquor rep and really knows his stuff). And did I have to hand over $120 for this awesomely wonderful transformation? No, people. Family discount has its perks.
Added Bonus: Nicole also very generously forked over some great product to help keep my hair from descending into its previous state. For no charge.
Nominee #2: Geo
Reason for Nomination: His previously mentioned awesome shout out to my good girlfriending abilities on his pod cast was great. Also, on two of the days I came home from work last week, he had made me incredible dinners. Salad and everything!
Added Bonus: It’s his birthday today! Happy birthday, Geo!
Nominee #3: My long-distance girl friends
Reason for Nomination: After spending the weekend with them, it was made obnoxiously clear how much I really just love them. We crammed into one bathroom to get ready (even though there are three in Kelly’s house, it just makes sense to play human Tetris in front of one mirror). We crammed into one car to get from home to tailgate to bar to home. We crammed two week’s worth of fun into two nights. And yet, none of it felt restricting. It felt, actually, comfortable. Natural.
Added Bonus: Not really a bonus actually, but it may be a loooong time until I get to see them all together again. I might have to strike while the iron is hot.
Nominee #4: The Ladies at the VMAs
Reason for Nomination: From Chelsea Handler’s pretty hilarious hosting job, to Snookie sans-pouf, to Lady Gaga’s meat dress, to Ke$ha and her garbage bag dress, to Rihanna’s awesome performance at the beginning of the show (take THAT, Chris Brown), I really felt the ladies represented. Sure, most of them were representing the lowest-common-denominator, but I like that. I AM that.
Added Bonus: The Taylor Swift vs. Kanye West battle. Each of them sang unreleased songs. But Taylor’s was great. And a big slap in the face to the dude who nearly ruined her VMA moment only a year ago. Kanye’s performance was only ehhhh. Point: ladies.
Okay, drumroll. The winner of this week’s Wednesday Winner Award is...my sister Prinna!
She announced today that she's having another baby! I'm so excited to spoil this newest baby rotten! Congratulations, Prinna and family! You have officially made my week/life! And I mean, I know having a baby is pretty exciting, but on top of all that: You are my Wednesday Winner. It doesn't get better than that!
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Iowa: The Land of Opportunity (And Headaches)
So tired. So very very tired. What an awesome weekend though! I was in Iowa City this weekend with my girl friends for the Hawkeye football game and, though my body angrily disagrees with me, it was like no time had passed. It was just like the good ol‘ college days again. Is that a bad thing? I don’t think so. We hit up the same tailgates, the same bars, and ran in to lots of great friends we haven’t seen in awhile. But yeah, my body thinks I’ve over-exerted myself. It wants me to open an account with AARP, not a tab at the bar.
You know what’s awesome about Iowa City? Everything. I love that place. The momentum of the city is contagious. It’s Iowa, so everything runs a little bit slower. Everyone is a little more relaxed. And the gas is super cheap there. Maybe it’s because the corn for ethanol is like, everywhere.
Okay, so after spending a total of 9 hours in car by myself this weekend, I’ve discovered quite a bit about myself. One - turns out, I’m a terrible singer. I always thought I was pretty good. I had a mix of songs that I belted out for about 15 minutes before thinking “Wow, I really can’t listen to myself anymore”. So, I turned off the music and just thought about life. Which brought up discovery number two. I am pretty good company. During the silent drive, I made myself laugh exactly 6 times. And at one point, I laughed out loud during the little internal stand-up act I had going on about what it would be like to have a conversation with a squirrel. Okay, on paper that is definitely not funny. But you should have heard the squirrel’s voice. Hilarious.
Finally, I realized that I love driving. I love it. I definitely don’t get to do it a lot, and road trips are fun. Even when you’re by yourself. I love cruise control. I love random talk radio stations talking about corn prices and the plights of farmers. I love playing the Alphabet Game. This weekend, I won every single time I played.
But I’m really tired, you guys. All that fun and debauchery wore me out. My calves hurt from standing on an incline at the Magic Bus tailgate for hours and from wearing extremely high heels all night. My liver is considering submitting its Two Week notice. And for some reason, my right ear is really sore. My hands are covered in stamps from various bars, and my hair is just, well, ugh. I’m a hot mess. Were all my Sundays like this in college? Probably. Did it ever stop me? Probably not.
Well, thanks for the memories, Iowa. Thanks for letting me crash at your place, Kelly. Thanks for making the road trip, Madeline and Freda. And thanks to all the fine people at the Magic Bus and the Sports Column for making a girl feel like she never left the immaturity and irresponsibility of college. I’ll see you all again in a few weeks. I hope you’re ready. I hope I’m ready. But now, back in real life, I’ll be working on my squirrel stand-up act. Trust me, guys, it’s gonna be great.
Anyway, how was your weekend??
You know what’s awesome about Iowa City? Everything. I love that place. The momentum of the city is contagious. It’s Iowa, so everything runs a little bit slower. Everyone is a little more relaxed. And the gas is super cheap there. Maybe it’s because the corn for ethanol is like, everywhere.
Okay, so after spending a total of 9 hours in car by myself this weekend, I’ve discovered quite a bit about myself. One - turns out, I’m a terrible singer. I always thought I was pretty good. I had a mix of songs that I belted out for about 15 minutes before thinking “Wow, I really can’t listen to myself anymore”. So, I turned off the music and just thought about life. Which brought up discovery number two. I am pretty good company. During the silent drive, I made myself laugh exactly 6 times. And at one point, I laughed out loud during the little internal stand-up act I had going on about what it would be like to have a conversation with a squirrel. Okay, on paper that is definitely not funny. But you should have heard the squirrel’s voice. Hilarious.
Finally, I realized that I love driving. I love it. I definitely don’t get to do it a lot, and road trips are fun. Even when you’re by yourself. I love cruise control. I love random talk radio stations talking about corn prices and the plights of farmers. I love playing the Alphabet Game. This weekend, I won every single time I played.
But I’m really tired, you guys. All that fun and debauchery wore me out. My calves hurt from standing on an incline at the Magic Bus tailgate for hours and from wearing extremely high heels all night. My liver is considering submitting its Two Week notice. And for some reason, my right ear is really sore. My hands are covered in stamps from various bars, and my hair is just, well, ugh. I’m a hot mess. Were all my Sundays like this in college? Probably. Did it ever stop me? Probably not.
Well, thanks for the memories, Iowa. Thanks for letting me crash at your place, Kelly. Thanks for making the road trip, Madeline and Freda. And thanks to all the fine people at the Magic Bus and the Sports Column for making a girl feel like she never left the immaturity and irresponsibility of college. I’ll see you all again in a few weeks. I hope you’re ready. I hope I’m ready. But now, back in real life, I’ll be working on my squirrel stand-up act. Trust me, guys, it’s gonna be great.
Anyway, how was your weekend??
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Rainbows and Unicorns and Ice Cream!
When I woke up this morning, birds may as well have flown into my room and helped me get dressed. A deer could have poked its little venison-y head into my window and served me my coffee. It’s one of those days, people. A Disney fairy land. All was right in the world today. One of those days when I didn’t want to slump home and just eat my feelings.
I’ve basically been skating by all day in a haze of anticipation and positivity. Tonight: NFL starts. (Skol Vikes!). Tomorrow: I’ll be in Iowa City with my best girl friends for the Iowa Hawkeye game (On, Iowa!). Every annoyance, every stressful situation, everything between this morning and tomorrow is but a blip on my rose-colored radar. I can’t be fazed. “Pharon, is this a good time to tell you a long, boring story about a tree stump?” Absolutely!
It all comes down to perspective. I forgot to bring my lunch to work, and instead of running madly to Subway and back, I strolled briskly through the crisp fall air, smelled the aromas of the Farmer’s Market, and cared not when BOTH my iPod ear buds malfunctioned and shut down completely. I saw what I usually would have assumed to be a drug deal in broad daylight, but today I decided one man was giving the other man money for his help with cleaning his gutters. And during a particularly irritating conversation at work today, I zoned out and daydreamed about what a ray of sunshine would smell like.
After determining that a ray of sunshine would smell cinnamony, but taste like lemon cotton candy, I closed up shop and headed home, satisfied. I almost made myself sick with how much I was in love with the weather. Just chilly enough to wear my new coat! What an incredibly wonderful time of year! Wait, is that…? Yes! It’s a strip club flyer just blowing effortlessly through the prickly breeze! Look at how beautifully it bops around!
It’s saccharine gooeyness, I know. I’m on the verge of grossing myself out. And the proverbial cherry on top was when Madeline sent me a link to a Tumblr blog called the pursuit of happyness (typo on purpose). Basically it’s a blog full of inspirational quotes, sappy cutesy pictures, and hopeful insights for hard times and tough lessons. I spent waaaaaay too much time on that blog. I leaned my chin on my left hand and smiled continuously as I scrolled through cheesy post after cheesy post.
Yup, all is right in the world folks. I’m coasting through the day on the wings of an animated toucan through a city made of rubies. Now, if only that deer would poke its head in my front door and serve me a beer…
Have a great weekend, everyone!
I’ve basically been skating by all day in a haze of anticipation and positivity. Tonight: NFL starts. (Skol Vikes!). Tomorrow: I’ll be in Iowa City with my best girl friends for the Iowa Hawkeye game (On, Iowa!). Every annoyance, every stressful situation, everything between this morning and tomorrow is but a blip on my rose-colored radar. I can’t be fazed. “Pharon, is this a good time to tell you a long, boring story about a tree stump?” Absolutely!
It all comes down to perspective. I forgot to bring my lunch to work, and instead of running madly to Subway and back, I strolled briskly through the crisp fall air, smelled the aromas of the Farmer’s Market, and cared not when BOTH my iPod ear buds malfunctioned and shut down completely. I saw what I usually would have assumed to be a drug deal in broad daylight, but today I decided one man was giving the other man money for his help with cleaning his gutters. And during a particularly irritating conversation at work today, I zoned out and daydreamed about what a ray of sunshine would smell like.
After determining that a ray of sunshine would smell cinnamony, but taste like lemon cotton candy, I closed up shop and headed home, satisfied. I almost made myself sick with how much I was in love with the weather. Just chilly enough to wear my new coat! What an incredibly wonderful time of year! Wait, is that…? Yes! It’s a strip club flyer just blowing effortlessly through the prickly breeze! Look at how beautifully it bops around!
It’s saccharine gooeyness, I know. I’m on the verge of grossing myself out. And the proverbial cherry on top was when Madeline sent me a link to a Tumblr blog called the pursuit of happyness (typo on purpose). Basically it’s a blog full of inspirational quotes, sappy cutesy pictures, and hopeful insights for hard times and tough lessons. I spent waaaaaay too much time on that blog. I leaned my chin on my left hand and smiled continuously as I scrolled through cheesy post after cheesy post.
Yup, all is right in the world folks. I’m coasting through the day on the wings of an animated toucan through a city made of rubies. Now, if only that deer would poke its head in my front door and serve me a beer…
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
List-o-mania
I’m getting ready for my solo road trip to Iowa City this weekend. I’m meeting up with Freda, Madeline, and Kelly for the U of Iowa vs. Iowa State football game, and I. Am. Stoked. In preparation for my travels, I’ve begun My Packing List. I absolutely love making lists. And since the rest of my week is pretty crazy, tonight is really the only time I have to prepare.
I’m a really bad packer. I always over pack, and not in the “I just don’t know what the weather is going to be like” kind of way. I pack 6 different pairs of shoes for two nights away because I just don’t know what I’ll feel like wearing, and I like to have options. So packing is a big job for me. But while I may bring 7 sweatshirts, I’ll forget pants. And thus the need for a List.
So far, my Packing List consists of 3 categories: Clothes, Accessories, Other Stuff. Then there are subcategories that are broken down by day. So, Friday, I’ll need these 2 pairs of pants, these 4 shirts, and these 2 pairs of black heels to choose from. And this continues on through the end of the trip. And because I forget things all the time, there are things included on there like KEYS. Really, Pharon? You really think you’ll be DRIVING to Iowa and realize you’ve forgotten your car keys? I’m impossible…
One time while packing for Mexico, I had Geo read me my list back to me so I could make sure I had everything. He read,”Okay, um…comfy jeans?” Check. “Regular jeans?” Check. “Black shirt with thing on collar?” Check. “Black shirt without thing on collar?” Check. “Thing for the night? What is that?” I said “Check” and quickly moved on. I realized at that moment that my lists are unintentionally coded. Instead of writing “my blanket” I wrote “thing for the night”, embarrassed that someone would find the list and discover that I still have my childhood blanket (another post all in itself). So besides the vague descriptions of clothes that only I can understand, I guess I also code items that I wish didn’t have to be on the list, but MUST be included out of fear of forgetting them. I remember a list I made once that had “Thing I Need” under the Miscellaneous header, which to this day I have no idea what it was. I had out-coded myself.
I don’t know what it is about lists, but I just feel incredible when I can check off items. I have about 6 lists running at any given time in my life. Right now it’s: Blogs I Must Read, Blogs I Must Write, Books I Want to Read, Gift Ideas, Target List, and a list of offensive Russian Phrases that might come in handy some day. I feel so organized! And this doesn’t include my many, many, many To Do Lists. I have a To Do list at work (two, actually), I have Things to Do This Month, Things To Do Today, and just general things I have to do in my lifetime. You know, stuff like “Understand Math”. Sometimes I’ll add items to the list after I’ve done them, just so I can check them off.
So, I’ve got my Packing List almost done. I’ve put it into 3 columns, and made all the bullets into check boxes. I can’t wait to start checking things off. Tonight, I’m going shopping with my mom and Prinna, which will be good because just now I added a header called, “Things to Buy”. A list within a list. Perfection.
I’m a really bad packer. I always over pack, and not in the “I just don’t know what the weather is going to be like” kind of way. I pack 6 different pairs of shoes for two nights away because I just don’t know what I’ll feel like wearing, and I like to have options. So packing is a big job for me. But while I may bring 7 sweatshirts, I’ll forget pants. And thus the need for a List.
So far, my Packing List consists of 3 categories: Clothes, Accessories, Other Stuff. Then there are subcategories that are broken down by day. So, Friday, I’ll need these 2 pairs of pants, these 4 shirts, and these 2 pairs of black heels to choose from. And this continues on through the end of the trip. And because I forget things all the time, there are things included on there like KEYS. Really, Pharon? You really think you’ll be DRIVING to Iowa and realize you’ve forgotten your car keys? I’m impossible…
One time while packing for Mexico, I had Geo read me my list back to me so I could make sure I had everything. He read,”Okay, um…comfy jeans?” Check. “Regular jeans?” Check. “Black shirt with thing on collar?” Check. “Black shirt without thing on collar?” Check. “Thing for the night? What is that?” I said “Check” and quickly moved on. I realized at that moment that my lists are unintentionally coded. Instead of writing “my blanket” I wrote “thing for the night”, embarrassed that someone would find the list and discover that I still have my childhood blanket (another post all in itself). So besides the vague descriptions of clothes that only I can understand, I guess I also code items that I wish didn’t have to be on the list, but MUST be included out of fear of forgetting them. I remember a list I made once that had “Thing I Need” under the Miscellaneous header, which to this day I have no idea what it was. I had out-coded myself.
I don’t know what it is about lists, but I just feel incredible when I can check off items. I have about 6 lists running at any given time in my life. Right now it’s: Blogs I Must Read, Blogs I Must Write, Books I Want to Read, Gift Ideas, Target List, and a list of offensive Russian Phrases that might come in handy some day. I feel so organized! And this doesn’t include my many, many, many To Do Lists. I have a To Do list at work (two, actually), I have Things to Do This Month, Things To Do Today, and just general things I have to do in my lifetime. You know, stuff like “Understand Math”. Sometimes I’ll add items to the list after I’ve done them, just so I can check them off.
So, I’ve got my Packing List almost done. I’ve put it into 3 columns, and made all the bullets into check boxes. I can’t wait to start checking things off. Tonight, I’m going shopping with my mom and Prinna, which will be good because just now I added a header called, “Things to Buy”. A list within a list. Perfection.
Monday, August 30, 2010
COLLEGE
Another week, another trip to Target. Seriously, I have a problem. But I noticed a whole lot of college freshman doing some school/dorm shopping with their parents. It was quite cute, actually. A lot of exhausted parents were strolling through the aisles with single-cup coffee makers, new bedding, and plastic little bookshelves. I heard one girl tell her defeated dad, “But dad, I NEED a blender! I can make my own smoothies in the morning!” Okay, honey. Judging by the space-saving materials your poor dad has bought for your inevitably lofted bed, there’s not going to be room for a blender. Priorities, Honey. Priorities.
I remember getting all the fun new stuff for college. I loved shopping at the Union Bookstore in Iowa City for my giant textbooks, my color-coordinated folders, and several thousand highlighters. I had a whole new basket of toiletries for my shower caboodle thing, new shower shoes, towels, everything. I brought all my new stuff to my new school and set up shop.
Cue: worst experience ever. I applied late to U of Iowa (people will tell you that I thought I was applying to Iowa STATE, not University of Iowa, but those people are jerks. Maybe they were right, but they’re jerks) and therefore was assigned to Temporary Housing. Temp Housing is just a room that is technically a shared lounge for the whole floor. They cram some people in it, and as other unfortunate freshman drop out, or don’t show up, members of Temp Housing are reassigned to the abandoned rooms. I walked into the 4th Floor Lounge in Burge Hall. It looked like an insane asylum. There were 6 bunk beds with plastic mattresses on them, 6 dressers, and mini-kitchenette off to the side. There were 4 desks lined up against a wall with dividers in between them. It was…sterile. It was small. And it was empty otherwise. Because I was rushing sororities, I was a week earlier than the rest of the students.
My parents set up my cot, we chose my dresser, taped up some pictures of friends from home, and then it was time for them to take off in the empty conversion van. I realize this sounds pathetic, but I cried like a giant baby. I begged my parents not to leave me alone there. I said I would clean my room every day if they took me home. I wasn’t ready for college. I would return all my new stuff if they would let me get back in the van. “Don’t leave me here alone!” I sobbed.
During this infantile breakdown, the first roommate, Kristen, showed up with her mom. She was going through Rush as well. After they set up her stuff, they hugged and off her mother went. Then Kristen bounced off to go shopping downtown. I was like “UM! YOUR MOTHER JUST ABANDONED YOU!”
It was bad. Then, Rush started. I stopped calling home and crying every night because I was too busy hanging out with my Rush group, and staying up late eating Mac and Cheese out of a hot pot debating which house had better GPAs and parties. I would guess it took about 2 weeks for me to forget my family altogether. Pictures of home were replaced by pictures of my new “sisters”, all my books and folders were tossed onto the floor as we converted the desks into make-up stations, and the only crying I did was when a roommate would be reassigned to another dorm. I discovered Hawkeye football. And tailgating. Oh yeah, there were some classes in there too…
I only lived in the dorms for a year (most people at Iowa only live in for a year, two tops). It was a great year. Hallways full of open doors, people walking in and out of everyone‘s room, guys and girls chatting outside the showers (co-ed floors=very Ally McBeal-ish bathroom situation). I loved it. Moving into my first apartment after that was never quite as much fun. Bills? What?
So anyway, back in Target, this girl and her poor dad were debating the blender for a good 5 minutes before compromising on a Magic Bullet. The dad tossed it in the cart, and she was going on and on about what kind of contact paper to get for her drawers. I wondered if she’d be like me or Kristen when she was left alone at college. Judging by her obvious “first time away from home” priorities, I’m guessing she’ll be a wreck like I was. Lucky girl…
I remember getting all the fun new stuff for college. I loved shopping at the Union Bookstore in Iowa City for my giant textbooks, my color-coordinated folders, and several thousand highlighters. I had a whole new basket of toiletries for my shower caboodle thing, new shower shoes, towels, everything. I brought all my new stuff to my new school and set up shop.
Cue: worst experience ever. I applied late to U of Iowa (people will tell you that I thought I was applying to Iowa STATE, not University of Iowa, but those people are jerks. Maybe they were right, but they’re jerks) and therefore was assigned to Temporary Housing. Temp Housing is just a room that is technically a shared lounge for the whole floor. They cram some people in it, and as other unfortunate freshman drop out, or don’t show up, members of Temp Housing are reassigned to the abandoned rooms. I walked into the 4th Floor Lounge in Burge Hall. It looked like an insane asylum. There were 6 bunk beds with plastic mattresses on them, 6 dressers, and mini-kitchenette off to the side. There were 4 desks lined up against a wall with dividers in between them. It was…sterile. It was small. And it was empty otherwise. Because I was rushing sororities, I was a week earlier than the rest of the students.
My parents set up my cot, we chose my dresser, taped up some pictures of friends from home, and then it was time for them to take off in the empty conversion van. I realize this sounds pathetic, but I cried like a giant baby. I begged my parents not to leave me alone there. I said I would clean my room every day if they took me home. I wasn’t ready for college. I would return all my new stuff if they would let me get back in the van. “Don’t leave me here alone!” I sobbed.
During this infantile breakdown, the first roommate, Kristen, showed up with her mom. She was going through Rush as well. After they set up her stuff, they hugged and off her mother went. Then Kristen bounced off to go shopping downtown. I was like “UM! YOUR MOTHER JUST ABANDONED YOU!”
It was bad. Then, Rush started. I stopped calling home and crying every night because I was too busy hanging out with my Rush group, and staying up late eating Mac and Cheese out of a hot pot debating which house had better GPAs and parties. I would guess it took about 2 weeks for me to forget my family altogether. Pictures of home were replaced by pictures of my new “sisters”, all my books and folders were tossed onto the floor as we converted the desks into make-up stations, and the only crying I did was when a roommate would be reassigned to another dorm. I discovered Hawkeye football. And tailgating. Oh yeah, there were some classes in there too…
I only lived in the dorms for a year (most people at Iowa only live in for a year, two tops). It was a great year. Hallways full of open doors, people walking in and out of everyone‘s room, guys and girls chatting outside the showers (co-ed floors=very Ally McBeal-ish bathroom situation). I loved it. Moving into my first apartment after that was never quite as much fun. Bills? What?
So anyway, back in Target, this girl and her poor dad were debating the blender for a good 5 minutes before compromising on a Magic Bullet. The dad tossed it in the cart, and she was going on and on about what kind of contact paper to get for her drawers. I wondered if she’d be like me or Kristen when she was left alone at college. Judging by her obvious “first time away from home” priorities, I’m guessing she’ll be a wreck like I was. Lucky girl…
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun...And 100 Ways To Stay In Touch
So, right up there you’ll see a picture of some pretty awesome (and obvs very fun) women. The three girls with me in this photo have been some of my very best friends since college. It’s Madeline, me, Freda and Kelly. I love them dearly. Problem is, we all live in different states right now. And 10 years ago, before social media, before unlimited texts and nationwide calling, we may not have been able to maintain our friendships.
In college, the four of us hung out after class, ate lunch together, went to movies together, visited each other at work, and we were each other’s home-away-from-home. But now, what happens to that dynamic when you aren't together?
Making new friends after college is rough. Outside of work, it’s hard to connect with people. I mean, sure, there are people you reconnect with, or people you meet at a yoga class or book club, but I just don’t think it’s ever quite the same. Man, the Saved by the Bell kids made it look so easy!
I guess the point is, I've been missing my friends. Madeline’s going through a major life change, Kelly’s a newlywed who’s coming down with a case of baby fever, and Freda’s traveling through Korea. Geographically, we are far apart, but even in our lives we seem far away from each other. Without being with them, how close can we actually be?
Then, the clouds parted and voila! Blackberry Messenger and Skype Conference Calling came into our lives. I Blackberry Message Madeline daily. I know she finally sold her couch, and her air conditioner is too small for the windows in her new apartment. Tonight, Freda and Kelly and I talked for over an hour on Skype. I know what the showers are like in Korea, and I know that Kelly‘s dog got a haircut today and it was a, uh, sub par look. Then we sat and watched You Tube videos and laughed. It felt like no time had passed. That we are each away for the summer.
And sure there’s nothing I’d rather have than for my best friends to live close enough to go shopping with me, or grab a drink after a long day, but with Facebook, Twitter, blogs, Skype, BBM, texting, and free long distance, it feels like there’s no excuse NOT to stay close.
It makes me think, though, that maybe the reason it’s so hard to build new friendships is because there are so many ways to maintain the old friendships. I mean, how many great friends can we handle? I do think that people have the capacity to love hundreds of thousands of people. But a great friendship isn’t just about love. It’s about companionship, it’s about sharing heartache and joy. And sure, the world may read your Facebook status and know what you ate for breakfast, but the great friends are the ones who actually care.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
