my cell phoneless world

After crying for a good half hour about the quite unfortunate status of my half eaten cell phone, I started to realize that maybe life with out a cell phone -especially a Blackberry- was not half bad. Aside from not having contact with the world at my pudgy little fingertips - believe it or not - I have still been able to communicate, live,and breathe.

A Few Thoughts on How Life Without a Cellular Device Can be a Good Thing

• The lack of near constant ringing to alert me of calls/texts/BBMs/emails etc. has allowed me to have uninterrupted, elaborate thoughts and conversations with myself.
• The thought of going against the grain of society and being a minority has opened my eyes to the many groups that are ridiculed daily for being different. ("OMG, Kacey. I can't believe you don't have a phone right now. You really need to activate one asap. You are so stupid for not having a phone.") I will not be peer pressured into getting a phone, I will only do it for ME. 
• I have been working towards mastering the English language, and not having a cell phone has taught me to spell words correctly and use proper sentences. 
• The risk of losing or damaging an expensive piece of equipment: 0. 
• The world does not need to know / should not want to know where I am and what I am doing every. single. second. of. the. day. Leave me alone, creepers.
• I used the house phone!

Oh, and I guess I get more work done at work not checking it every 5 seconds... So back to work.

life according to kipu - mom and dad go to atlantis

Dear Mom and Dad,

Guys. I miss you SO much. I can’t believe you left me for a whole week to play at Atlantis. And on top of leaving me for a whole week, you left me with AK for a whole week. She was SO miserable Sunday morning because she was hung-over. All she wanted to do was lay on the couch and watch movies, but don’t worry guys, I made sure to leap up on the couch and walk up and down her whole body every time she started to nod off. I wasn’t sure if she was sleeping or passing out, so I was just playing it safe.

When Grammy came home from her bridal shower, we put a football game on. I had a great time hanging out with Grammy, Grampy, and AK, but I don’t think Grammy enjoyed the game one little bit. She was swearing and cursing at the TV. And then Grampy left in the middle to shower because he was “disgusted”. I napped for a hot minute with AK during the game until I saw someone walking outside and I barked super loud and woke AK up. She moaned and groaned. Hehehe.

Then AK started packing her stuff up (a suitcase, laundry basket, tote bag, and work bag). Is she moving in? Gosh I hope not. I just could not handle having one more person to torment and bite and bark at, although doing so to AK is my absolute favorite. We hopped in the purple machine and headed home! I was a good girl in the car and even rested my tired little head on AK’s arm while she drove home.

When we got home, it took AK 3 trips to bring in all her shit. Really, AK, really? It was around dinner time when we got home, and AK was into feeding my right away. She sorted 4 loads of laundry to be done before she even thought about me. 4 loads?! So silly. Its amazing she had any clothes left. I was so mad at her for making me wait for dinner, I am a princess afterall, so I chewed up two knee-highs. They tasted a little funny because AK wore them on her feet (side note: is something wrong with her feet? They are so ugly I want to eat them off). But I guess if I can eat up my own vomit, the knee-highs weren’t so bad. It was more making a point and not actually eating. Like I was a little hungry, but not to the point of eating knee-highs to satisfy my tummy.

She finally fed me after throwing in a load of laundry. Then, she had the nerve of not giving me her undivided attention, as she chose to start cooking her dinner. Doesn’t she know I need to be the center of everyone’s lives at every moment in the day? She was using so much cheese and she was stupid enough to leave the cheese in my leaping reach on the counter and I took some cheese and baggies for a ride around the house. Zoom zoom! I was leaving little cheese bits here and there in case the Mouse on the Motorcycle comes for a visit! I am so nice to my friends.  AK got so frustrated with chasing me around in circles that she moved the kitchen table and the foosball table against the wall so I couldn’t run around them and play games.

After AK made her dinner, we sat on the couch and watched a movie. AK was also doing laundry at this time and you would think that she would have learned I need her to be on me at all times, but she didn’t. So when she was changing her loads, I grabbed her Blackberry (OMG it tasted JUST like yours mom!) and took off the back cover, removed the battery, bit right through it, and AK was screaming and running after me like the hyenas in the Lion King. I dropped it. She was scary. I saw her tossing the battery between her hands like a hot potato. Then, it was like magic! The battery starting smoking out the holes I put in it! AK called Grampy crying and upset and he told her to throw it in the sink. AK was really sad and it was at this point when I finally realized that maybe it was not okay for me to eat her Blackberry. We have blueberries in the freezer, I could have just had those.  AK sat at your computer while Grammy calmed her down and told her “No worries, you have an upgrade available.” See guys, no worries! Its not a big deal after all. After unsuccessfully trying to find an emergency credit card that you apparently did not leave, AK got her own card out and ordered a new phone. (buying a new battery was just as expensive as getting a new phone, so she did that).

While she was on the computer I made sure to give her the saddest eyes I could ever give her. She almost felt bad for me, and I ruined her social outlet! I decided to law low for the rest of the evening and give AK some space. I cuddled her in bed to let her know I still loved her and it would be okay to love me back, even though I made her so so sad.

When I got up in the morning,  I was back on my game. I refused to eat my breakfast and AK made me go outside two times in the freezing sleet that was coming down. REALLY, AK? Two times? If I didn’t go the first time, what makes you think I would go 20 minutes later? In fact, the second time I was so mad AK made me go outside that I made sure to sniff around the leaves extra long because I knew it annoyed AK and she was cold too. When we got back inside, she made me go upstairs while she did her hair. I wanted to stay down and watch the news, but she said no way José. I princess pranced all the way up the stairs and as soon as AK started straightening her hair, I slid out the bathroom and squatted to do poops right there. It was like magic! One minute I did not have to go, but the exact second AK pissed me off, I was able to go right on the white rug. It was really fun watching her gag and make funny disgust faces while she cleaned.

AK quit straightening her hair and packed us up to leave for school. She got her bag ready and grabbed my lunchbox. We exited through the garage and because AK is stupid and did not put her car in the garage, she carried me to the car because she didn’t want dirty wet footprints all over her interior. She is so silly. If you are puppy sitting, you have to expect that! Didn’t you tell her that, guys? We pulled up to Bed & Biscuit and basically ran inside-- we were so happy (I just wanted to play and AK was thrilled to get some time away from me). AK left B&B skipping in the rain. Do you guys do that too? Gleefully skip away after dropping me off?

I hope not. I miss you guys. Feel better. Play in the lazy river!

Love,

Kipu

PS- AK found your secret stash of pop-rocks. She was happy.

PS2- Because I ate AK’s phone, we can’t have pictures today. She is not happy about that.

seasoned.

Today Danny and I were at McLean Hospital in Belmont for a presentation on how to use one of the software systems we already know how to use. Silly for Partners to send us all the way there for that, but I did find my new favorite coffee at the Starbucks on the way there (if it is even possible to be obsessed after only one venti).

 

This was my first run-in with the Clover. O.M.G. The smokin' hot, rich, flavorful Brazil coffee that started my morning (and my GI tract) and surprised my taste buds with its fabulousness was BANGIN'. I am on the hunt to find a sbux closer to home with a Clover so I can love every morning of my life and start it off right.

Anyways, back to the word of the day. While sitting and people watching at this presentation, Danny wrote the following observation on his information packet and flashed it my way: "we are so young and amazing. they are so old and seasoned." Danny and I might be the youngest team at Partners and we are basically taking on the highest compliance/audit risk area in research and all of the MDs and PhDs at literally the top hospitals/research facilities in the nation have to answer to us. They don't necessarily love being told what to do by two post-teeny-boppers, but they do. We are kind of a big deal. Comply or die. Or lose all your federal funding and be fined millions of dollars. 

On the flip side to being seasoned is what all of us would be considered, fresh.  Fresh because we are new to the scene, attractive, and bringing revolutionary new ideas to everything that we do.  We are accomplished, but not yet stagnant.  We are forever evolving as individuals. and always inspiring new trends and influencing the world around us.

Word of the day? Seasoned. We will use this phrase in an attempt to not call our old colleagues: out-of-date, boring, aged, senile, archaic, decrepit, antiquated, dilapidated or antiques. We must be professional and proper up in hurrrr.

Shout out to: DANIEL DAVIS for his seasoned entry. (check out his fly blog)

_______________________________________
seasoned

1. Aged or Processed.

2. Covered in spices to the desired taste.

3. You fucked up your brain so much on drugs that you can’t do any of the old things that you used to be able to do and/or to have perntamently fucked yourself up to the point where you don’t have any idea whats going on anymore.
_______________________________________

Daniel uses the word in many sentences for your reading pleasure:

This word would even be suitable for the…

• Youth in the Ghetto:  Shaniqua be givin that good brain, like she dropped out of college, that bitch is seasoned.
• Gorilla Juice Heads:  T-SHIRT TIME!!!! Here’s the situation men. We looking for only the freshest bitches tonight. NO SEASONED GRENADES!!!
• Southerners:  Grandma is so seasoned in the kitchen, she is always fixin up the best fried chicken for the church cookouts.
• Smarty Pants/Nerds: “I heard some hoodlums say that my, ‘kicks were fresh to death’ this afternoon.  I can’t even begin imagine what that means.”  ”Oh Steven, you are just to seasoned to understand todays youth.”
• Aristocratic: “William is such a seasoned pheasant hunter, I would let him pluck my feathers any day.” “Oh Elizabeth, don’t get fresh! You are so naughty!”
• Surfers: “Dude, let’s get seasoned!”  ”Hey man, I’m hella seasoned!”
• Valley Girls: “Her dress is so seasoned.” “Like what does that mean?” “It is last season.  Duh!” “You really should go back to school…”

AND INTRODUCING….

• Antoine Dodson: Hide your kids, hide your wife, there are seasoned rapists everywhere out here!

_______________________________________

Can you have a visual? Sure. This is the kind of seasoned we need more of:

a night on the town with foxy

Thursday nights are ALWAYS an adventure with Gram. Auntie Deb comes down to take her to dinner and grocery shopping (for the heavy shit she should not be picking up on her own). Last night Ali came down too. We tried talking Gram into going to a restaurant, but she loves herself either 1) one slice of cheese pizza from Papa Ginos or 2) a McDouble from McD's. You don't try to monkey with Foxy's routine.

So we made a GTD and chose to hit up Papa's for some pizza.

 Then we zippered Gram into her jacket, put on her rain bonnet, and headed to... 

The market! We walked behind Gram and apologized to all the people she cut off, ran her cart over, or gave dirty looks to. Per usual.

*Note: Gram is not a bitter old woman. She is probably the funniest and nicest relative we have, but she is just fierce in the market with her cart. Do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT stand between her and her vanilla sugar wafers.

imbibe.

"We hang out with doctors all day. We need to stay smart. Like, we need a good vocab."

DD

In an effort to stay smart and enhance my vocab so I can hang with the PhD's and MD's that we have to deal with constantly at work, my diva coworker DD and myself are going to start a "word of the day." These words will be mature phrases for the childish things partake in every day.

 Today's word:

im·bibe/imˈbīb/Verb

1. Drink (alcohol).

2. Absorb or assimilate (ideas or knowledge): "propaganda you imbibed in your youth".

Can you have it in a sentence? Sure!

DD: yo me and mad bitches were imbibing last night. i drank me too much wine and lost my mittens!
KB: Some of my college friends are coming to town this weekend and we plan to imbibe some fine adult beverages.

Can you get a visual? Absolutely.

oh oh, its magic...

...you know!

Ah the wonder of a GREAT haircut. There is almost nothing that makes me as happy as getting my hair cut. Chopping off that extra, dead, unnecessary half inch just puts a big smile on my face. What puts an even bigger smile on my face? The five minute shampoo/conditioner scalp massage. I swear the girl who shampooed me yesterday must have thought I was a wacko-- I smiled and giggled the whole time and I'm sure I let out an "ahh" or "ohh" or two. I have a habit of massaging Nate's scalp or playing with his hair and I was not sure where I got that from until yesterday when I put two and two together and realized how into my shampoo I was.

I love going to my hairdresser K at  James Joseph Studio in Medford. We used to slave over gallons and gallons of "ban-ee-jah" (vanilla) and "room pasa" (rum raisin) ice cream at the forever classy Findeisen's Ice Cream. K knows whats up. Its fun to get your hair cut by someone you know, but don't really know. K and I were 4 years apart in high school, but knew a lot of the same people. We like to chat about who got pregnant, who is dating who, and any other gossip we can wrap our brains around. The City known as the Town of Methuen is smaller than we think... Anywho, K starts our day off with "What are we doing today?" I give her -the look- and say "the usual. Make me hot." And she knows exactly what to do and gets to work with her magical scissors and razor and secret goop.

You know you have a good hairdresser when she is able to take you from this:

I ran out of conditioner two months ago.

By doing this:

Wonder Woman at hard at work

 And you leave the salon looking like this:

oh HEYYYYY girl

Whats my hair plan for the long run? Cut a half inch off every couple of months and get it long enough to donate to Locks of Love. I donated hair in high school and I want to do it again. The world needs more gingers roaming around!

life is good :)

ohmylanta.

Last week I joked about my little kiddies and pretending to be preggers with a basketball in their belly. Apparently this is something I cannot take lightly because I just found this online.

GAH.

When you are ten your biggest worry should be that your parents won't let you stay up past 8:30 to watch the Wizards of Waverly Place or that you don't want to eat green beans for dinner or that the maybe 20 minutes of homework you have is too much. At ten I was not even anatomically mature enough to bear a child, let alone have one of my own. I probably wasn't even old enough to babysit by myself!

This was a picture of me and my friends when we were about 11/12. We apparently loved dogs, Winnie the Pooh pajamas, Hanson, stuffed animals, and making gingerbread houses. In no way were we even a tiny bit ready to even THINK about sex let alone have a baby. Pretty sure we hadn't had the "sex" health class yet either so for all we knew, you could have had a baby by kissing.

The poor young woman child in Spain who had a baby at 10 years old (10 FREAKIN YEARS OLD) lost so much at such a young age. How could she possibly grasp such adult concepts like intimacy and sex? There is no possible way. These are supposed to be things that you experience when you can can understand them. And I am still trying to understand them at 24. And the father is a minor as well? How is this okay? Just because you are physically an adult does not mean you are mentally one. We need to stop saying girls become women and boys become men just because one day you got a visit from Aunt Flo or your balls dropped. She cannot possibly be fully developed. I seriously just started growing tatas like last year.

I don't care what country you hail from or if it is the norm for 10 year olds to be sexually active-- its INSANE. I don't care if I am not respecting someone else's culture. Call me an ignorant bigot. But hey, right back atcha if you believe its acceptable for a 10 year old to rear a child when the only thing they are capable of rearing is an American Girl-caliber doll. And at 10, I didn't even care enough to take good care of that. My American Girl dolls are sitting in my basement cold, naked, and alone. Gawd, I'm still not ready for a child.

I just can't come to terms with it . . .

h-ay-double L-oh-double U-double E-N

What happened to the good ole days when you and your friends dressed up like astronauts and flew around the school in a homemade spaceship twirling noise makers from the dollar store and winning first prize in the costume contest at school?

Don't get me wrong... I also partook in the whole omg-i-need-to-be-as-undressed-and-whorey-as-possible costume business. But to an extent. See?

Bondsy and I were Team Gang Bang our junior year-- whatever that really meant. We put together a random outfit and handcuffed ourselves together. We looked good. And covered.

This was my favorite costume almost to date. Magic 8 Ball. Dressed in black under armor, black tights, and black shorts with an "8" on the back and the fortune teller on the front. If a guy approached me, and was cute, he got the "Give me your number" side, but if he was a sketchy creeper (like the majority of the men at UConn) he got the "Don't count on it."

Where am I now? Well, I am kinda over that silly phase. I made a quick last minute costume this year with: a pair of scrubs, a loofah, a toothbrush, a face scrub, and sponges. I was a scrub. And in honor of my night and my theme song in college: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Av7m_Pgt1S8 . Spent Halloween night with the roommates sippin on some Pumpkinhead with a cinnamon/sugar rim watching the Pats and then a movie (NOT a scary movie, even though t'was the season)-- waiting for the trick-or-treaters that never came. It was so relaxing and good to spend some time with the roommies. SO glad my dad got all the candy that I love and can't resist. THANKS BIG RICH.

Hope ya'll had some fun. Life is good.

what is in a name? that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

What is in my name? Only 5 letters. K-A-C-E-Y. I know there are only a million other ways to spell "kay-see"... But it bothers me to no end when people spell my name wrong. I just got a response to a work email (with my name spelled correctly 1. in my salutation: Thanks, Kacey; 2. in my signature: Kacey Barker; 3. in my email address name.) addressed to "Casey". That is not even close for one second. I occasionally get addressed as "Kasey" here and there as well. But there is really no excuse if you are writing on my Facebook wall and my name is on the screen you are writing on or on an email where my name is already spelled correctly multiple times. Hey, typos happen, I get that. But spelling "KACEY" as "CASEY" is not a typo. Its a careless, rude, annoying mistake.

Maybe I am more aware of how people spell their names because my name is always spelled wrong, but nowadays names are starting to have the strangest spellings. We need to take that into consideration from here on in. Who is with me?

get on the line.

When you coach a basketball team of ten year olds, its important to let them know who is boss. I don't take no crap from nobody. I think they thought I was a softie when we were going around the circle saying our names. I said, "I am Kacey and I am a clown." They giggled. Then they stopped giggling when we were done stretching and they were on the endline mentally preparing to run a suicide. I have found my best friend at practice to be my whistle. It has more power than I do. Blow it once and they quiet down and come to attention.

As an athlete I HATED sprints. HATED them. But now as a coach, I LOVE them. Oh you forgot to keep your hands up in your defensive stance for the 15th time? "Get on the line." Not listening and talking while I am talking. LINE TIME. The worst thing they have done: put basketballs under their Ts and pretend they are pregnant. I am NOT an advocate for pre-teen pregnancy. And we only have 10 on the roster, so if we lose one to pregnancy, we will have a tough season. They got on that line HARD. I was gently reminded that they are only 10 and that I must expect such nonsense, but if they are old enough to pretend to be preggers, they are old enough to be up in the gym just workin' on their fitness.. That petty bologna will not be happening in my house--the dog house. Cuz I'm a barker.

woof. life is good :)

how to survive a day in the hospital

Kath got it bad. Never will she ever play "spoons" again. She leaped across the table and fell back on her chair and broke a vertebrae. The L1. After a delish Cottage hash-n-eggs for breakfast with the Animal (who is the best BF ever and came up to support), I headed over to The Gen for a day with Kath. I was not sure how the day was going to go, but almost 10 hours later, I found the day flew by. And here is why:

• Work from home! I am lucky enough that most of this week's work could be done online/in excel/through email. I got so much busy work done today and it got my mind of the seriousness of Kath's injury
  
• Facebook. Duh
• Gchat.
  
• Judge Judy. I watched this with Kath on the hospital TV. We bonded while Dad went to work for a bit, hunched over the little remote/speaker thing.
  
• Sister threw a Netflix trial my way. Finally caught Weeds Season 3!
• Put on surgical gloves/masks (conveniently at your disposal in the room)
• Meet Kath's roomie, Mary, who broke her femur this morning. Adorable. At least 90 years old with pink hair.
  
• Fix the room fan so it blows on Kath and Mary.
• Steal fan from Kath for Mary while Kath is having a cat scan.
• Fix fan for Mary again.
  
• Get another fan from nurses station for Kath when she gets back.
  
• Giggle when Dad is giving Mom a spongebath in the bathroom and they pull the nurse cord.
• Hold Kath's hand.
  
• Get Kath a kidney bowl to puke in (and when you forget what you are asking for when you arrive at the nurses station, act out the puking motion for them)
• Flirt with the old men doctors (in case it doesn't work out with Nate)
• Tisk tisk tisk at Kath when she gets out of bed to pee when she is wearing the RED socks. RED socks mean the patient cannot get out of bed.
  
• Eat a cup of raw carrots for lunch (note to self: eat before 1:30 b/c all the good shit is gone)
• Play online cribbage.
• Drink coffee and water. But don't dare do so when Kath had a no food/drink order hanging over her head. Literally.
• Realize you have one of the best bosses in the world. And tell her that.
• Give Mary a kiss on the hand when she went in for surgery.
• Do not tickle Kath's feet.
• Think about how terrible the doctor was that told Kath she only had a bump on the back at the ER in NH.
• Patiently wait for your sister and brother to bring you dinner
• Sweat balls because the room is ridiculously hot.
• Apply baby powder to pits from the hospital welcome kit they give you.
• Take pictures of Kath's bruise on cell phone (furnished upon request)
• Pray.
• Play on bed when no one is in room. Up and down and up and down.
• Take the newspaper to the bathroom and look at the crossword puzzle because you forgot a writing utensil.

More tomorrow when I find new ways to occupy my time!

Life is good.

hours

People who smoke at work should have to work longer days. If you can take 10 min off every hour or two to go outside and huffle puffle, then let me blow your house down and say that you need to work an extra hour every day. I'm sure there is some silly law forbidding employers to ask if you are a smoker and make sure you work a full 8 hours, but what about the unwritten rules regarding full work days? Companies must be wicked trustworthy with their employees. I know I (and everyone and their mother) check personal email/shop/facebook/blog/read the news during the work day, but to an extent. I know smokers puff and do all of the above too, AND smoke up a storm. I suppose just as long as the work gets done, its all fine and good... But still, its food for thought.



So, can I start leaving an hour early and call it my "cigarette break"?

inspiration...

...to say the very least.

I only cried once during the walk. I teared up a few times after it too. Actually, so did my mom. It wasn't because of the extreme pain that was shooting up from every single one of the 26 bones in each foot or from muscle cramps or dehydration (although all worthy cry causes), but it was because of one of the posters throughout the course. It still gives me the chills.

I see a lot of people when I clown, but there are some people I will never forget. The woman who survived the Holocaust who told me that if she can survive that, cancer is a piece of cake. (She then went on to tell me she wishes girls my age would stop dating trashy guys and that she wishes the trash men would take away all the trashy men. love her.) The couple I always make small talk with a couple who are so genuine and kind. You think you are strong until you see a couple going through chemotherapy together--one of the two ladies was asleep undergoing treatment and her partner just held her hand, eyes shut with tears running down her cheeks. It was one of my most eye-opening, touching moments in my life. Kacey instantly took over Big Red and needed to walk away and compose herself. I am emotional, I know that. I have been brought to tears quite a few times while clowning and it is impossible to try to block out emotions.

The Jimmy Fund is probably the hardest place to clown. In part because the kids have Wii's and TVs and if you are not attached to a wire, they are not interested, but mostly because you see the most resilient cancer patients. These kids are just so strong, with so much hope and courage. I clowned just about every Friday at the same time this summer. I saw many of the same patients every week. Although you don't want to see the same patients at a cancer clinic every week, it was cool to develop a kind of relationship with them.

I saw Charlotte a lot this summer. I gave her and her entourage many smiley face stickers and I always checked their funny bones and let Charlotte poke my rubber red nose. It was the same routine every time. I am not one for routine, but this worked. Charlotte even made me a picture/card and left it in the volunteer office for me one day after I clowned. She was always so happy, no matter how uneasy or scared her parents looked. Incredible.

The Jimmy Fund Walk had posters throughout the course with pictures of patients and quotes as mile markers for inspiration. And to say they inspired us is an understatement. Most of the posters gave me and my team the chills. Then I came across a familiar face. I had to stop and catch my breath, as it caught me off guard. My sister was with me and we both teared up when I told her who it was.


Charlotte. It's not that I could not believe it--I recognized a few of the kids on the posters, but what really got me upset, and got my mom and sister upset, and still tears me up, is that we have the exact same hair color. I have never seen Charlotte with hair.

I'm not sure what it was about this that gets me. I see kids all the time without hair at Dana. And I see redheads all the time too. If Charlotte had blonde or brown hair, I probably still would have had a similar reaction, but the red hair somehow just connected us in a different, indescribable way. And it gave me strength. Big Red has a Little Red :)

grocery shopping etiquette

I only had to pick up a few things at the market, so I picked myself up a little basket, had my list in hand, and embarked on a quick Sunday morning adventure. I felt pretty good strolling around in my Cons, shorts, and an old Animal tee--hair a complete hot mess from last night--until I had to interact with other shoppers.

Since when is it okay to completely block isles standing side by side with another carriage? Its actually not. And don't give me a dirty look when I politely say "excuse me" to get by. Hello world, I need to pick out what flavor of seltzer I want before it loses its fizz. I love nothing more than to see an old friend and have an in-aisle catch up, but I know better than to create traffic at peak shopping hours.

On a similar traffic note-- traveling through the aisles should be done like driving. Stay to your right. And if you are looking to enter either the front or back main aisle from one of the side aisles, you need to merge. You do NOT have the right away when entering one of the main aisles, especially when you have a HUGE cart full and are having trouble steering it. Don't cut me off when I have one little basket and you are pushing one cart and pulling another. Its wicked rude and annoying. And if you do, at least have the courtesy to smile and say thank you. People are so self-centered. Maybe my parents did a good job teaching me manners and what I would consider common courtesies... But to me its just one of the things that will always piss me off. Call me old fashioned, but I cannot stand people with poor manners. Anywhere. Are times really that different "nowadays"? Shopping is kind of a social activity and if one does not have social skills, it makes it typically good experience a very unpleasant one.

I was well under the 12-item limit for the express lane. I picked the shortest of all express lanes and the person in front of my only had a can of mini Pringles-- PERFECT. Then when it is her turn to pay, she whips out her WIC business--totally fine with it, some people need a little extra help. But then she opened her mouth treating the worker like her servant. Umm no. They are there to help you and get paid to do it, but you cannot treat them without respect. The girl at the check out did her usual "Good morning, how are you?" to the woman (which a lot of checkerouters aka cashiers do not do anymore) and the woman just said, "Yeah, get me this formula" and hands her the WIC things. SO rude. It just puts me in such a terrible mood. What is happening to the world?!

Also, don't be stare at/be rude to old folk, handicapped, obese, those of different ethnic backgrounds, or anyone who may be different for one reason or another. There is so much more to a person than what they appear to be.

Oh, and don't let your kids run wild and don't give them everything they want. You lose so much credibility that way.

when you need to get your point across fast...

...just talk in abbreves. While some people hate when others abbreviate their words, I think it only adds character to the conversation. It's wicked unfortch when peeps hate on abbreviators. Get over it. I like to get my thoughts out as quickly as I can. And my words are typically too damn fab to hold in for long periods of time. Who doesn't love them a delish, fast paced convo filled with entertainingness? Don't be ridic. Everyone def does it. All my BFFLs. Even if its not just shortened words, everyone uses abbreves. When you break down you don't yell, "Shit. WTF. I need to call the American Automobile Association." You scream, "Shit. WTF. I need to call AAA." Now I'm cracking myself up writing this so I am going to throw in a: LOL. I don't have time to say, "I am laughing my freckled ass off so hard right now." No one does. When you are laughing, you laugh. HA-HA-HA. Loves it. Bout to leave ya'll and get back to worksies. In my lime green argyle sweater and black Cons. Wicked work appro.

Can't wait to get home to some good wine and watch a rom com with my manfriend. (Note: Animal hates abbreves, yet he put the idea in my head today when he told me he wanted to watch a rom com tonight)

LIG :)

never too old...

...for a first day of grad school photo!

go get em, Nathan Hartwell, Pharm D

when it is totally 100% okay to lie

No one likes a Pinocchio. Tell me the truth. The straight up, real hard truth.

Truths coming from obnoxious pricks like "you bunion is utterly heinous" need not apply. It is common knowledge that bunions are utterly heinous. But, there are times when you don't need to tell the truth.

Last night Foxy was very concerned that Earl, the hurricane that is only kind of cramping our style this weekend, will strand us in the house for weeks. She needed batteries for her radio so in case we lost power she could be connected to the world. I suppose that is responsible. Foxy is very set in her ways and needs very few things to keep her content. Her radio is probably her number one two, after her ginger granddaughter, of course. All Foxy needs, besides her family, is lunch dates at Papa Gino's with Alice, tabloids, radio, vanilla wafers, Metamucil, and Jeopardy to be happy. (Note: The Price is Right could have also been in there, but she HATES Drew Carey and has a thing for Bob Barker--but who doesn't love them a Barker?)

Anywho, back to batteries. Foxy gave Bear and I specific instructions (and $3) to go down to the dollar store and get her 4 AAs. We were Target so we nixed that demand from the queen. We bought her a 12 pack of Duracells for $10. We take them home to her and although she is a bit confused why the dollar store would sell that many for only a dollar, she went with it. And we sold it even better when we realized the spring where you put the batteries in was a little loose so they were not a tight fit so we had to legit jam the cover on to keep them in place. She thought the batteries were just duds because they were from the dollar store when actually the radio needs a new holder thing. It's fine.

Every Wednesday for ladies night Foxy cooks dinner, y'all know this. This summer has been so hot we usually just get pizza or sandwiches on our way home so she does not have to cook. We buy and then she throw money at our face to take to pay for it. You can't fight her with this. She is so anal about owing people money that you just have to take it. But, you can easily outsmart her. At Sunday Dinner, everyone leaves money every week as a courtesy for Foxy and they put it up in the clock in her kitchen behind some spices (see side). So, on Wednesday nights, we do the same thing. And she doesn't even know it. I suppose its not like we are lying to her, but we just aren't telling her anything. She finds it on Sundays with everyone's contributed Foxy loot.

Foxy is one of my favorite people ever in the whole entire world. She advises me and tells me funny stories. Actually, she gave me me a hilarious sex talk the other day.

Foxy: Don't get pregnant.
Kacey (astonished, yet shouldn't be surprised what comes out of her mouth): GRAM! Uh! That would only happen right now by immaculate conception.
Foxy: Don't do it that way, it would be too much responsibility for the kid.

How can you not love THIS woman?!

life is good. per usual :)

How much is too much?

I always top off my gas tank after it jerks at me to stop the first time. What can I say, I like to get to a number that tickles my fancy. This morning, it jerked and I did what I always do, but today, apparently I went a little overboard. Literally. I finally stopped after gasoline started trickling all down my leg and into my shoe. I knew what kind of day today would be--on edge is an understatement.

When I get overwhelmed at work (or elsewhere) with too much on my plate, instead of just coming to the conclusion there is just no way possible it is happening and be rational about it, I freak out and try to get it all done while,freaking out. I am an emotional being. Today at work I was working on an obnoxiously ridiculous project that I really had no idea how to get start/do/get done. I broke down the pieces, handed off some of the work, and realized I would just not be able to get it done today. I don't consider this unprofessional or petty or that I can't do the job, but realistically Rome was not built in a day. I am pretty sure the world will still be turning when I learn how to merge mail and finish it -gasp- tomorrow.

Sometimes I don't know when to stop. Pumping gas or eating (why can't my brain work a litttttttle faster so I know I am full-full and not making myself sick-sick) or in conversation. I over analyze everything. I try to keep everyone happy with me while often doubting my own opinions and not saying what I feel. I know I can't please everyone and I should not say things are okay when they are not. Its one big sick game. I need to trust myself and accept things for what they are. I think that is why I ask so many questions. And the same questions over and over. And over. The answers don't change. The reasons don't change. Sometimes I need a better explanation. Or it drilled in my head a little further. And my head is hard. And that is barely tolerable for most people. I need to learn that.

Albeit, it's just too much.

Gotta be real with myself, have a little patience, and relax. I don't need to know all the answers, and I need to know when to just let it be.

At the same time-- enlighten me with perspective.

things i can/not live without

On my most recent trip to the loo, I thought about something I could not live with out: tampons. I also thought of something I could live with out: visits from Aunt Flo. I know my scheduled monthly visit from her es muy importante from a gynecological/circle-of-life/need-it-for-child-bearing POV, but I would not object to giving up my visitation rights for the following reasons:

1. I only know the approximate time she shows up when my face breaks out a week before. (and she has been showing up at wicked inconvenient times lately)
2. She makes me cranky, emotional, and miserable, thus affecting the well being of those around me.
3. I drink a lot of water and she insists I retain it in my bloated body.
4. She isn't exactly cheap and will only use name-brand good shit.
5. She requires constant attention and needs to be tended to frequently. If she isn't, the whole world will know about it in the most embarrassing way possible.

Aunt Flo is here to stay, I know that. Thus, tampons are one of my favorite things. And they are also the word my family used to use to get me to leave the room when I was little because it freaked me out and made me feel uncomfortable. If I was spying on my sister and her boyfriend all she had to yell was "PAD" or "TAMPON" and I was outta there.

So this got me thinking about things I cannot live without and things I can live with out. (besides the obvious happiness, love, family, friends, air, food, water. those are boring to think about... unless specific foods are brought up)

So...

Some Things I Cannot Live Without (in no particular order)

• Tampons
• Dr. Pepper
• Foxy Gram
• Smiles
  
• Black Olives
• Weekends
• Wild-yet tame-hair
  
• Smell of laundry detergent
• Smell of man deodorant
• Sloppy Joes
• Cold beer
• Tequila
• Coffee
  
• Good music
• Fenway Park
  
• Clown noses
  
• Crocs
• Sweatpants
  
• Facebook- I'll admit it.
• My blankies- I'll also admit it.
  
• Beach
  

Some Things I Could Stand to Live Without (in no particular order)

• PMS
• Work
• People who complain about petty problems
• Texting
• Ignorance
• Naivety
  
• Sunburns
• Intestinal Issues
• Bees (keep the honey, get rid of the stings)
  
• My Bunny
  
• Dairy products
• Heels
• Weather above 80 degrees
• Yankees
• Skunks
• Razor burn
• Pilonidal Cysts
  

what makes you a grown up?

Well besides being able to sit with a chilled glass of Riesling in a bubble bath with candles everywhere... What is it? Pushing the tender age of 24, I consider myself to be "grown up." Whatever that means. Actually, that might be pushing it... at the very least, I think some grown up things. A lot of people consider MANY of the below "questions" to be what makes them a grown up. For me? Not so much right now.

• Moving out of the house? No. I am saving too much money living at home right now, which is planning for my future, which is grown up.
• Working a full time job? No. I work full time to put food beer on the table. Psyche. This definitely made me feel for real.
• Having a relationship/get married? I know a LOT of people who are in relationships that are so juvenile, unhealthy, and unstable that this definitely need not apply to grown-uphood. Don't get me wrong, grown up relationships are great, I know, but I think it was important for me to be independent and grown up on my own before I could grow up with someone else.
• Hitting a certain age? Definitely not. There are too many immature/ignorant/naive people out there whose beliefs/actions are not very grown up.
• Being financially independent? Eh possibly- I pay most of my own bills.
• Having a child? No. See: Teen Mom.
• Taking care of yourself? Getting warmer... As long as I am not camping. I am very hygienic. I try to eat healthy. I take myself to the doctors when I feel like shit. I am mildly active, and I know that is ridiculous and needs to be brought up 10 notches.
• Being independent? Ahhh, getting there. I felt really grown up as soon as my parents left me walking in the middle of the UConn campus on my own for the first time in my life. There I was with no one hovering over me watching what I was doing every second. My new-found freedom was a little too much at times and I learned some pretty good life lessons.
  

What DOES make us grown up? Being on time to catch a bus? Being early to catch the early bus? Setting up retirement plans? Cooking dinner for yourself? Going food shopping? (side note: food shopping is one of my FAVORITE things to do and one of the most grown up things I feel I do, not sure why, but I love it.) Transitioning from drinking to get drunk to enjoying adult beverages or moving from Natty Lights to Sam Adams.

What does being a grown up even mean? To some its milestones in life. But I think it’s more of a mindset—the decisions I make and the actions I take. I feel more adult developing my own beliefs and standards than I did when I started working or living on my own. I know how I want to be treated and how I want to treat others. I became comfortable in my own skin and I think that was an important part of growing up. Putting things into perspective and not freaking out that I am having a bad hair day or that I am tired or cold really help to balance my mind. Don’t get me wrong, I am the first to complain when my Miss Frizzle locks are forming, but the big picture is my jam. C’est la vie.

As grown up as I like to think I am, I have a feeling my mom does not see me as such. My parents are going away for 2 weeks and she left some gentle reminders around the house that kindly remind me otherwise...

Kacey: Mom, I am taking these down as soon as you leave.
Mom: They BETTER be up when I get home.
Kacey: Not a chance.
Mom: I don't want my house smelling like trash, my tub clogged, mailbox full, a dirty shower, or a broken septic from tampons.
Kacey: I'm not getting my period. And Nate doesn't use tampons.
Mom: Are you sure?
Kacey: Umm yeah mom, pretty sure. But I will leave the notes up as a reminder in case any of my girlfriends come over.
Mom: Don't get smart with me or I won't bring you back any booze.

Life is good.

The Truth

I couldn't resist asking the cute lady who had my dogs in her hands for over thirty minutes if my feet were some of the ugliest she has ever seen.

She said, "Oooooh noooo. You feet are niiiiiice. Ha Ha."

They were looking awfully cute this morning at 6:00am when I got to work and could not resist slipping out of my flat, taking off my knee high, throwing my foot on my desk, and snapping a picture.

And then having some fun in powerpoint.

Life is good.

Woof

"I look at your feet and react how I assume the ancient Greeks reacted when they saw a solar eclipse: OMG. HOLY SHIT. WHAT IS THAT?!"
- The Animal

My sister got the pretty feet genes in the family--actually pretty sure those are the only good genes she got that I did not. My heinous dogs do not stand a chance next to her tiny, adorable child-size tootsies that are often found in elegant heels and strappy sandals. Although we have never had a formal Fantastic Foot Competition (which surprises me because my sister is so competetive), I know that when we get pedicures together the pedicurists look at my feet, point, and say something in a different language and then laugh their tails off. I am fine with that.

I have come to terms with my mobilizers.Besides the ever-growing protuberance-aka Magical Bunion fondly known as Bunny-I have on my lovely Left, I also have cute little Siamese Toes. These extra special buddy toes are connected (like Siamese Twins) and then branch off eventually. (see pictures below. they are not originals. they are googles)


I used to be very self-conscious about my feet and didn't like to flaunt them around too much. I mean, I still get a little nervous, especially when the boy you are just starting to date points rudely at Bunny and blurts out "What is that?!" I believe I told him it was a softball injury as I had just come from a game. It has been about four months and Bunny is still there.

So, I know I have heinous feet that attract negative, unwanted attention where ever I bring them. But, these same feet allow me to lots of great things including-but definitely not limited to:

• Shaking my tailfeather on the dance floor
• Struggle through the worst athletic event of my life- The Heartbreak Hill Half Marathon
• Walk BigRed around the floors of Dana Farber giving millions of stickers and smiles out
• Take Foxy to the market and watch her run over anyone who stands in the way of her sugar wafers
• Starting point to put pants on
• And cute panties for that matter
• Be miserable in heels because there are no comfortable heels for my feet.
• Annoy/gross out people who hate them by rubbing Bunny on them
• Distract other drivers by sticking them out the window in the car
• Serve as a conversation starter
• Serve as a Handstand Topper Offer

What do you love using for feet for?

Life is still good.

A Ginger's Guide to Roughing It

"You mean we sleep on the GROUND?"

"With no pads or air mattresses?"

"Just a sleeping bag?"

"Do I have to go to the bathroom in the woods?"

"Are there showers or sinks?"

"What will I eat?"

"You want me to bike 10 miles to/from the beach?"

"Do you know how to make a fire?"

"I just want smores. Can we have smores?"

*********

I am FAR from being thrown into a classification of "high maintenance". Sure I like primping and will treat myself to a massage/mani/pedi/shoppingspree/caseofwine from time to time... But I'm a simple girl--simple things I smile for. Throw me in a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt with no makeup on and hair not done and I am in my element.

It's not that I have never "camped" before. But up until this summer, my camping adventures took place in back yards and I often found myself on a couch before the sun came up. I was not against it, its just that the "real" camping opportunity just never presented itself until this summer. The Animal planned a camping weekend in Hampton Falls complete with tents and fires and bike rides and smores. I had some pretty legit (apparently only "legit" in my book because everyone else laughed at me when I asked them) questions about our camping adventure. *** See aforementioned questions above in wicked cool/annoying patter.

Well I survived camping and have put together a guide for other first timers on how to survive as well.

"A Ginger's Guide to Roughing It"

The Twenty-Ten Edition

By: Kacey Barker

-- Complete with Pictures --

It is important for your camp-mate to put up the tent on his/her own. This way, if it collapses or leaks or smells, you can place ALL the blame on him/her. Also, if you are camping with a gorgeous piece of man like I was, it is super hot to watch him struggle to put it up and then throw his hands up rejoicing when he finally figures it out. (Bonus if said gorgeous piece has fabulous behind and struts with a delicious swagger).
Note: I was asked NOT to help set up the tent, as I needed to drink at LEAST one beer to ease my camping concerns.

I think this picture says a lot about how to camp. Always travel in style with a Vera Bradley duffel bag while wearing Crocs and pajama pants. While a lot of chicks might not bring their Vera camping, Vera is VERY versatile and can be washed quite easily. Make sure to lay all your footwear options out so you can plan your outfits accordingly and see what your options are. It is important to note that my smile in this picture is real and not at all forced. I thoroughly enjoyed roughing it. There was a major camping turn-off though... The ground was basically a rock. It was like sleeping on a slab of granite or a hardwood floor. Actually, those might have been more comfortable. Even Animal said it was rather hard and next time a cute little somethin-somethin would be necessary to sleep.

Do NOT NOT NOT bring a camping companion with poison ivy this bad. You will get it and die.

Fires are FAB. They are badass actually. Basically everyone at the campground does it, so you should too. The Camping Community only likes people if they have fires. In real life, you should not give in to peer pressure, but camping does NOT fall into that category. If you don't fire, it is weird and you will not have the complete camping experience if you do not light it up. There are lots of things you can do with your camping fire:

• Use it to cook dinner.
• Stay warm
• Cuddle by it
• SMORES. nuff said.
• Play cribbage by it
• Melt your crocs near it
• Smell it
  

Side note-- Drink as much as you please while camping. It is considered cool and rugged. (see beer can present in picture above)

Travel with an AMAZING cook. Animal trekked over the river and through the woods to find different pieces of wood and made an intricate design in the fire pit to successfully smoke/steam/cook/burn/fire the scallops and sausage skewers. It was basically the best thing since sliced bread and it was pretty awesome to see how proud Animal was with his camping cooking. (you done good, sir)

Anything goes when you camp. That being said, see how loud/long/heinous you can burp. If you get rounds of applause from across the entire campground like I did, you are basically a five-star camper.

I know we touched upon this before, but again, I cannot stress enough how important it is to make adult beverages. A bottle of Santana champagne straight from Mumm Napa and OJ and tequila and coconut rum = HEAVEN. Alcohol not only eases the mind, but enhances the camping experience as you can forget that you are getting eaten alive by bugs or a freezing your tootsies off or have to pee in the woods.
Note: A quote from the weekend= "OMG Kace. Wait one second, I have a surprise for you" He emerges from the tent with a 5=year old grin on his face holding two umbrellas. "I have always wanted to use these!"

Ahhhh, the camping life.

Bring games to play. I like to bring games I know I can beat The Animal at. He stinks at cribbage, so I like to suggest we play that. Games pass the time and bring out the competitive juices.

Speaking of competitive juices, keep them flowing with rousing game of mini golf if the camp ground offers it! You will like camping even more if you play against a partner who ultimately stinks at golfing and you win. You will be flying high after a dub on the g-course!

SMORES! All I wanted when we planned our camping adventure was to make smores. They are the most delish area of food one could ever imagine. Toast that marshmallow black and shove it between two grahams and a hunk of chocolate. AHHH. There is nothing like it. (Do not be in girl mode and use only a little bit of chocolate. A real woman uses a whole bar in her smore. Top and bottom chocolate.)

We were badass bikers at the beach. Legit biked 10 miles to and from the beach uphill--not sure how the uphill both ways happened, but it definitely did. Biking was enjoyable, but it was hard at times. When the going gets tough, just look at the fine backside of your camping companion and that is more inspiration than you could ever imagine. I asked The Animal to bike in front "because he knew the way and it made me feel safe to be in the back." HA. I can read a map and am fearless enough to ride first. Can't a girl just love looking up and seeing her man working hard in front of her?! And with his bod?! GAH.
Note: Sweat on back is real. Girls-- see what I mean about the backside?! Don't even get me started when the American Flag Bandana gets rocked.

Even if you are having the most miserable bike ride home because your boyfriend didn't bring you food to eat after a 10 mile bike trip and only offered beer instead of water, it is a good idea to stop and put on a good face and ride a spring duck.

Always bring a clown. Always.

Impress the beach goers if you can throw a football. Especially if you can catch/throw a football one handed and not spill the cup of beer in your other hand.

Relax your tired camping feet in the exfoliating/calming beach sand and take a picture. Because everyone takes pictures of their feet at the beach and posts them for everyone to see.

Stop on your way home from camping for legit drinks and a lobster roll. It will top of a camping trip very nicely.

Always remember that life is good. It is actually so freakin good.

alright now kiddies, go camping.