"I Live to think for myself. I refuse to be a mindless sheep following the crowd into cookie-cutter oblivion. Otherwise I'd just be a zombie with no heart or passion in life" - Hervey Taylor IV

Jacked Up Sangria

Thursday, October 25, 2012

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I think it has come to be known that I like alcohol... but only the tasty kinds. And you know what, I'm not ashamed to say it. Mixed drinks are delicious and fun and as long as you don't drink them in too much excess you're fine. I mean, just go to the gym a little more and it shouldn't have that much affect on you. Don't try and get all drunk and eat an entire bag of chips and your life won't change that much. If you have a huge presentation tomorrow, probably safe to say you should stay in. And if you're drinking... this doesn't mean you have to get shwasted. You probably will by accident but I'm sure you're smart enough to think through your own life choices. I am and it's working out pretty well for me.

Follow these simple rules and your life will be sooo much better. Because alcohol is a happy magical elixir of life. You know... besides that it is in fact a depressant. If we choose to ignore this, it's all good. Besides your liver of course. I'm sure your liver hates you.

But guess what, I'm 22 and in grad school and life is hard. I won't be this young forever and eventually I will in fact have to grow up. Not now. Not today. I know, I have white girl problems in excess.

That being said, it is probably never a good idea to have me make you a drink. Why? I don't believe in shot glasses. I don't believe in measuring your alcohol. I believe in pouring until it tastes good and if it doesn't taste good you add a little more. I believe in having good beers (or cheap beer really, I'm not that picky) with great friends. I wholeheartedly believe in 2 Buck Chuck. I believe in spiked cider on a cold day. I believe in boxed wine and Champagne. I believe in pretty drinks, girly drinks, fruity drinks, and manly drinks. I believe in alcohol.

In honor of my love of alcohol and my new found love for Michigan football, I decided to make a Fall Sangria for our Michigan vs Michigan State tailgate last weekend. And the number one comment I received was "I hate you and your sangria." This was of course after the entire batch was completely devoured.

Why? Because apparently my Sangria was a little too potent for some people... the kind of potent that you didn't actually realize until you're a full glass (or 4) in.

This is what Fall Sangria is supposed to be:

Fall sangria (courteous of nerve.com and my mama) 
2 oranges
1 lemon
2 apples
1-2 cup bourbon
½ cup triple sec
3-4 tsp hot sauce (they use Crystal)
¼ cup simple syrup
2-3 cinnamon sticks
Combine in a quart container and let marinate for at least a day.
Combine mixture with 2 bottles of sauvignon blanc and 3 cups apple cider and adjust to taste.
Garnish with chopped apple.
Makes enough for a small party (medium-sized punch bowl)..

This is what my Fall Sangria turned out to be:
Kaitlyn's Jacked Up Fall Sangria

4 Oranges
2 Lemons
2 Apples
1 Handle of Bourbon
1/2 a bottle of Triple Sec
Pour in hot sauce till you feel it looks like enough
1ish cup of simple syrup from Splenda (I mean, there are already enough calories in this thing, lets not add more) 
6 cinnamon sticks

Combine in a 2.5 L jug and let marinate for at least a day
Combine mixture with 2 bottles (The 1.5 L size) of Pinot Grigio and about half a gallon of apple cider.
Realize it is too sour. Pour some more sugar in.
Realize it is WAY too sweet. Pour a whole bottle of Merlot in and realize it is just right.

Obviously you have now moved to 2 - 2.5 L jugs
Makes enough for a small party!

You can clearly see the winner of these two recipes.

I'm sure you're sensing a theme from my recent blog posts but really, my life is a whole lot of work and school and nobody wants to hear about that. Do you really want to hear about last week how I was holed up for days in my room up until 2 AM studying for my biochem test. No, because that is boring, horrible news that nobody likes. Especially me. But in case you were wondering, I rocked that biochem test last week. Boo-ya!

If you were also curious about the development of Tequila Thursday... it won. It won big time. Just say no folks!! Tequila Thursday is no longer. RIP.

Now kids, please drink responsibly. We don't need anymore crazies out there than there already are.

Tequila Thursday

Friday, October 12, 2012

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Grad school is hard. Graduate school is so hard in fact that we as first year graduate students needed to come up with ways to cope.

These coping mechanisms consist of weekly traditions in which we can all hang out, vent, relax, and in general enjoy life outside of the laboratory and class room.

Our first tradition involves heading to Ashley's on Tuesday night. Ashley's is amazing they have a ton of regular beers, a revolving tap, and even a whiskey club if you wish to partake in it. Not to mention their bacon, cheddar, chive waffle fries are to die for.

Next tradition is bagel Wednesday. Bagel Wednesday is probably my favorite thing of all because it involves free bagels. FREE! Supplied to the students of Michigan by the lovely alumni club every Wednesday morning. Bagel Wednesday also involves free coffee and hot chocolate. It's pretty much spectacular.

Our next brilliant idea as graduate students involves Tequila Thursday. It's simple really. You buy a bottle of tequila and you are not allowed to leave until the bottle is gone. This is not a bad thing. I mean a fifth is only 750 mL. That is 25.36 oz which is equivalent to roughly 17 shots (1.5 oz. each). So lets say there are 6 of us partaking in Tequila Thursday. That is only 2.8 shots each. Not bad, not bad at all. You can still get homework done after that. Not that I condone homework while drinking, but to each their own.

So you see, in theory Tequila Thursday is a really really good idea and not at all a crazy idea.

Let me give you alcohol tip #45... if you have Tequila Thursday, stick to the plan. If the plan is to drink a bottle of tequila, then you drink that bottle of tequila like a champ! Nowhere in the plan does it specify that you are allowed to go buy a second bottle of tequila. NO. I wrote the plan and I am positive that was never involved.

Also, is there wine in Tequila? Is there wine in Tequila Thursday!? You're smart so I'm going to go with you probably know that there most definitely is NOT. Then why are you breaking out 4 bottles of wine on Tequila Thursday? That is not in the plan. What that is, is the worst decision ever.

The plan is the most important thing about this social outing and I'm pretty sure you just punched the plan in the face. But what do you care right? It's 7 pm on a Thursday night and you're badass. So you're going to think to yourself: Psh... I own you Tequila Thursday. I OWN you.

And because Tequila Thursday is smart, conniving, and more badass then you will ever be, Tequila Thursday keeps quiet... for now. Silently waiting. Letting you have your good time. Letting you roll on home at 9:30 pm thinking life is just a bowl of freaking fruit loops.

So Tequila Thursday lets you sleep. He sits patiently until your alarm goes off. And the second he hears that buzzing, Tequila Thursday slaps you across the face SO hard that your head won't stop throbbing for at least 24 hours. Food will immediately become appalling to you and all you will think about all day is your amazing bed and how you're not in it.

You see... it isn't just Tequila Thursday. The effects last well into Friday evening.

But what Tequila Thursday doesn't know... and at this point my mother who must be sitting there wondering how she raised such a delinquent daughter who flat out lost her mind when she moved to Michigan is that contrary to popular belief I am a responsible human being. If something needs to be done, I'm all over that! 

So much in fact I got myself up, took a shower, got to work on time to participate in journal club, went to seminar and a luncheon completely composed. So much in fact that it is 6:30pm on a Friday night and I am still at work making some pretty classy proteins. In fact, I am the last person at work because I'm that dedicated... So take that Tequila Thursday.

So I'm going to call this an even draw.

Until next week Tequila Thursday...

The Witches Brew

Monday, October 8, 2012

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Sorry for the hiatus folks. I actually decided to discontinue this blog. I just never let anybody know. Whoops. My life got crazy. I moved to the frozen tundra known as Michigan and my ability to focus long enough to write a blog fully diminished. But I have been asked by friends what happened to my crazy views about life. And then my mother finally brought it up and said she misses them and I should start again. 

Honestly, how can I say no to my mother? I feel like I turned her world upside down by moving far far away from New Mexico and causing a severe case of empty nest syndrome. Really it’s the least I can do! So, I will be posting at the very least every week if you’re interested. And if I go on another hiatus I will surely inform you next time.

Today’s post is informing you about the dangers of alcohol. In particular, spiced wine. Also known as Witches Brew. The most amazingly delicious concoction of spices and wine that I have ever tasted in my life.

Coming straight from Leelanau Cellars, Northern Michigan winery, this wine is fantastic in more ways than one. For starters it’s on sale all throughout the state of Michigan and just about any store for 2 for $10. That’s 1500 ml of scrumptious red wine for a measly $10. This is probably why I have invested in and consumed 8 bottles already. Second, this is a wine that needs to be heated and fills you with warmth and bubbly goodness on a cold fall night. And let’s face it, I need all the warmth I can get out here in Michigan. Thirdly, if you hate red wines… which quite frankly I think is a crime against humanity… but alas there are those of you out there that the tannins of red wines just don’t do it for you. So, if you do indeed hate red wine I am about 79.2% positive that you will like this because of the amazing balance brought to you by the plethora of spices mixed in.

Wait… I think I was supposed to talk about the dangers of alcohol. Really, the main danger of this alcohol is that you don’t taste it. So… when a completely sane and not at all alcoholic person decides that the best thing to do on a Sunday at 2:30 in the afternoon is to start drinking this warm wine somebody should definitely tell them: No, that is the worst decision I have ever heard of.

Alas, my house that is normally filled with 7 other crazy characters was empty and I was alone to do as I saw fit. And what I thought was an excellent idea was to break out the wine and start cooking. All was going swimmingly until I finished the pumpkin muffins. That’s when the alcohol kicked in and my kitchen suddenly turned in to the background for “My Drunk Kitchen,” which if you haven’t watched you should definitely youtube it. 

You see, side effects of Witches Brew include:
  • Not knowing how many cans of tuna you put in your tuna salad. Which will surely cause a nervous breakdown in which you literally have to go dig through the trash to count the cans you have already used.
  • Not being able to properly open a spice jar plastic safety covering doodad… which really is a bit of a hassle to begin with so we’ll say this one isn’t entirely yours and the Witches Brew’s fault. I am personally ready to give full blame to the spice company that did not fully perforate the edges of the plastic for easy removal. However, in order to get around this you will inevitably pull at the cap as hard as humanly possible until it gives way sending red curry powder all over yourself and the kitchen floor. Then you will obviously have to clean up said mess which results in a soaking wet shirt with curry sauce that never actually comes off and a slippery floor which you will probably fall on.
  • Thinking a different spice jar has a shake top when indeed it has a pour top. This will result in about 3 tablespoons of your spice ending up in your soup rather than the 1 teaspoon it originally called for. In order to rectify this situation, you will just add more pumpkin hoping it will hide the spice intensity… which you will learn when you’re sober that it definitely does not.
  • Deciding that you should put your very hot soup in the blender (like the recipe says to do) but accidently forgetting the lid, resulting in firey hot curried pumpkin-apple soup to splash on to your hand. In your alcoholic haze you will momentarily forget how to use water as a cleaning and cooling aid for your almost 3rd degree burn.
  • Consuming Witches Brew will most definitely lead to all of your roommates coming home… finding  you drunk cooking with a house that has intoxicatingly harsh spiced alcohol fumes wafting through it. It’s ok though because they will proceed to eat all of your pumpkin muffins and join you in consuming an additional three bottles of spiced wine until everybody has realized that all the work they were supposed to do that Sunday night most definitely did not get done.
  • Last but most certainly not least, it is highly likely that your wine consumption will end with a skype call to your friends back in New Mexico who are thoroughly entertained by you and your entire life shambles. Additionally, they will declare you haven’t changed a bit.
Who am I kidding? Witches Brew is probably the most fantastic invention I have ever heard of and I highly encourage you to obtain some with whatever means necessary. And by obtain some… I really mean you should consider buying 10-20 bottles because it’s only sold seasonally. Which at this point is my biggest concern.


Thursday, August 9, 2012

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I have recently discovered some interesting facts about myself.

As I have mentioned before, the majority of my friends feel I am destined to marry a Canadian. I now know that I cannot. I cannot actually marry anyone other than an American. This is a very sad realization that I had to come to terms with over the last couple of days. The reasoning is well... the Olympics.

I'm kind of obsessed with them and I get really really American. As in, I instantly dislike any other country that is going up against the United States and I get very competitive. So competitive in fact that during the USA vs. Canada women's semifinal soccer game the other day I: almost cried, yelled, screamed a little, and was 2 seconds away from getting in a bar fight with some Canadians who were also in the same bar obviously not cheering for USA. Which is not ok with me.

So competitive that I considered canceling or moving lunch date plans to watch the USA vs. Japan fighting it out for gold today. Seriously? I was willing to move around my entire day with people I haven't seen in months and will not see again for a very long time since I am moving to Michigan on Saturday. All of that for a game I can DVR and watch tonight. You should be happy to know that I did  not change or cancel any plans with my New Mexican friends and am looking forward to a great day. However, I have checked the DVR settings at least 5 times this morning already just to make sure the game is actually taping.

I am rather ashamed of this crazy side of me. Especially because truth is, I LOVE other countries. I love Canada so much... I bought a passport just so I can go up and visit all the time since I will be living so close. Do you know how expensive passports are? It's a small chunk of change that I would not be willing to spend unless I actually wanted to visit another country. Which I do. I am also a huge fan of Italy because of my Italian roots and I often cheer for them and Canada in most sporting events... as long as they are not up against the USA.

I don't know what it is. It's some kind of competitive switch that I have absolutely no control over. At least, I recognize I have a problem. A problem that would cause intense turmoil in any relationship every two years for the summer and winter Olympics.

So, I am sad to report that I can no longer fulfill the lifelong dreams of all my friends in marrying a Canadian.

I am sorry to all those I have let down. If it helps, I am also devastated about this news.

If you really knew me...

Sunday, July 29, 2012

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This afternoon amongst my crazy multitasking... and by multitasking I mean watching a movie, watching women's gymnastics, archery, swimming, and diving in the olympics while not ever really getting out of bed... I received a call to duty.

On this lazy, dark, drizzly day fit for staying in and watching the Olympics, I would normally shrug off any call to duty mainly because I'm in my complete and utter useless stage. Actually, that is really the only stage I have been in all weekend and I surely do not wish to break my lazy streak on account of some formal call to duty.

However, this particular call can be done from my bed with the simple tapping of computer keys. All the while, the Olympics plays happily and undisturbed in the background.

So what you ask is this call to duty? Well, there seems to be a blog craze going around. Something simple in which you post about things people would know if they really, really knew you. My good friend, sorority sister, and fellow blogger Jenna posted it on her blog this afternoon and tagged me in the this blogging trend. So here it goes...

If you really knew me...

You would know that I cannot spell to save my life. I actually just misspelled undisturbed and my computer had to correct it for me. I'm surprised they let me out of elementary school.

You would know that I absolutely love soup. It's the best and most amazing food ever and comes in 20,000+ flavors and consistencies. My favorite being Chicken Tortilla Soup at 2 particular restaurants back in New Mexico.

You would know that I am completely and hopelessly addicted to 19th century literature turned movie. North and South, Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Little Women. You name it and I love it!

You would also know that though I love the above mentioned movies, my favorite movies include Fight Club, The Boondock Saints, Die Hard collection of movies, and Saw collection.

You would know that I hate knocking on doors and ringing door bells. I avoid it all costs. It makes me uncharacteristically nervous. If I am visiting somebody, I usually call them when I arrive. I'm sure there is some deep seeded physiological reason for this but I'm not entirely sure what it is.

You would know that I cannot stand cotton balls, polar fleece, cue tips, or anything of the like. Don't ask... I don't have a logical answer.

You would know that when I get really excited, and I start to talk too fast I shorten words and don't even realize it. Not because it has suddenly become the cool thing to do but because my mouth is going much more quickly than my brain can process. The most common is because... which I often shorten to bees. As in... "I'm so excited bees in two days my sister gets here and then in 9 days I go back to New Mexico."

You would know that the very first thing I see on a guy always is his hair. Good hair is the difference between a cute guy and a hot guy. And a bad haircut on a guy can ruin everything. This also makes me very aware of when any of the guys around me have just gotten a haircut. Even if it's a tiny trim, I notice. 

You would know that I need alone time. I am not one of those people who can constantly be surrounded by other people. Being too social actually really stresses me out and makes me very grumpy. Not that I don't love being around people. I do... I just need space sometimes.This makes clingy guys a problem.

You would know that I literally have to fight myself to stay awake in a car if I am not driving. It's torture. If I'm in the passenger seat, I definitely want to be sleeping. Five minutes in a car and I can be dead asleep and not wake up again for hours. It's not by choice either. It's a physical reaction of being in a car that I just cannot help. It's so damn relaxing! Unfortunately, this makes me a really bad road trip partner.

You would know that I don't actually own a brush. No, I'm not kidding. I do not brush my hair or comb my hair really. I have a pick that I use to detangle my hair right out of the shower but that is it. Experience has taught me that my insanely frizzy, thick, wavy/curly hair is turned in to a straight up afro at even the site of a brush. 

You would know that I love ellipses. You know... those three little dots. I don't even think I use them correctly most of the time but that isn't going to stop me!

You would know that I am excited but really, really, really nervous to uproot the only life I have ever known and move to Michigan... a place where I know not a single soul, in a mere 13 days.

You would know that I love my life, I love my friends, I love my family, and partly due to this I take things very personally.

What Up!

Saturday, July 28, 2012

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This is the story of how my life has been made instantly better and surprisingly worse by the show How I Met Your Mother.

You see, since 2005 people have been raving about this show. So much so that people often quote catch phrases used in the show. It really is an amazing show. I may even say it is legen...wait for it...dary!

But what have I been doing for the past 8 years the show has been airing? Well, not actually watching it of course. When it came out, I was only 15 years old and quite frankly I wasn't in to watching witty and slightly crude humored sitcoms. As a junior in high school, I was watching things like Supernatural (Jensen Ackles. Nuff said), Charmed (3 kick-ass witches), Gilmore Girls (charming and witty and I own the entire series),  House (when it used to be good), CSI (also when it used to be good and with the original cast), 24 (because Jack Bauer could save my life any day), and other collections of like shows. But I was definitely not watching How I Met Your Mother.

Time passed and I heard ravings about the show but I just couldn't make myself start watching it. By this time, it was already 3 or 4 seasons in and I felt like I just missed too much.

Then something crazy happened. I received a Facebook video post linking to a song entitled "Lets Go to the Mall" by Robin Sparkles. It really is a classic song filled with true talent and lyrics that will just blow your mind. If you have not, you must youtube this video. It will change your life. I promise you this.

Along with this video came a post of how I look and remind my friend of Robin Sparkles/Robin Sherbatsky... a character in the show How I Met Your Mother. Obviously I don't see the physical resemblance because Cobie Smulders (the actor who plays these characters) is beautiful, but  I must say the character does remind me of myself. Her complete inability to commit, her not wanting to have kids, her even being afraid of kids, and her passion for dogs. Only difference is she is Canadian... which may or may not be a difference since apparently I was supposed to be born a Canadian and will one day actually marry a Canadian according to the awesome friends I have.

One of her quotes is, "I mean yeah their shoes are cute when they're real little but beyond that whats the draw?!"

Which kind of sums up how I feel about kids actually. 

After this first comparison, I started to receive more and more, and I just knew. This was the universe's way of telling me I must watch this show.

So at the beginning of June... yep just 58 days ago... I started watching How I Met Your Mother on Netflix. And in these 58 days I have gotten through 112 episodes and am currently on the second episode of season 6. 

My obsession with this sitcom grew a little too intensely and actually kept me from being productive... a lot. 

But the biggest thing I noticed about this show is how it is affecting my real actual life.

The first time it happened was a couple of weeks ago but I shook the feeling off. But after last night, I can not ignore the problem any longer.

Last night my friend and I were at a bar, when this boy starts chatting us up. Though he was nice and not nearly Barney Stinson like I found myself finding classic Barney pick-up tricks, comparing our conversations to exact conversations used in the show. And eventually telling myself that this guy has no chance because even though he didn't "Suit Up" he is in fact a version of Barney Stinson. Not in anyway as bad as Barney because he was actually nice and appeared to be somewhat intelligent. Probably Barney when he first started out with his player status before he hit it really big... you know, at the beginning of his career.

And that is when I realized I now officially take all bar advice from Barney Stinson.  Except instead of using his advice to pick up people, I use them to spot a pseudo Barney Stinson at a bar and steer clear of him or at least have an entertaining night watching them with their ridiculous pick up lines, boasting, and fake-impressive stories.

Yep, Barney Stinson my bar guide... a fictional TV character. A character who sleeps with over 200 women and is in the kindest of terms, a man whore. A character who is played by a man who in real life isn't even attracted to women.

My life is so messed up, I cannot even begin to tell you... 


Thursday, July 19, 2012

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I've never posted about food before but I'm thinking maybe I should start. If there is one thing I love in this world, it's food. Maybe a little too much. I love it so much that if I had enough money and knew I would be successful business owner, I would drop out of the sciences and open up my own bakery. The muffin, scone, bagel, cupcake type of bakery. But alas, the economy is horrible and I am in no position to start a business nor am I a good enough cook to achieve excellent success.

But I do love to cook. Food is so much a part of our culture and who we are as human beings. It's what we do when we get together with friends. It's what you we do when family comes to visit. It's what we do when you have a good day and want to celebrate with something special or when you have a bad day and need a little pick me up. Food is pretty freakin fantastic.

It's gotten harder though as I grow up and move on in the world though. Food takes time to prepare... and time is not something I find readily. And sooo much food is not good for you. But lets be real with ourselves. It's not logical to cut out all of the unhealthy things we eat. That is just asking way too much. Balance and smarter cooking I think are the keys. So lately I've decided to try and maximize my food and stay healthier while also being practical with my time.

I've had several people ask me about this dish and I happened to make it today so I decided to post it on here. It's absolutely fantastic. I found it on yummly.com which is one of my all time favorite sites when it comes to looking up recipes. That and pinterest of course. You can find just about anything you could imagine on yummly and you can tailor your search to a specific food item or even to a specific calorie amount that you're looking for.

This particular recipe is called Gnocchi with Spinach and Peas. If you've never actually made gnocchi, you are missing out. You can make them homemade which I hear is excellent or you can be lazy (like me!) and purchase them from any grocery store. All they are are dumplings. Magical little potato pillows of goodness. And they are ridiculously easy to prepare from the package.

After all of this healthy talk I just threw at you, I'm going to give you a recipe that isn't the healthiest thing in the world. It has quite a few carbs (hello, they're made from potatoes!) and higher in fat but relatively low in calories. So it is one of those meals you make every once in a while... not every day.

So here is the recipe, and as I find good delicious things to make I'll put them up on my blog and let you know.

 Gnocchi with Spinach and Peas

1 cup of frozen peas that have been thawed
1/2 cup of heavy cream
1/4 tsp of hot red pepper flakes (I use more... a lot more because I like firey, spicy food but be careful because it can get hot fast)
1 garlic clove smashed... or 2 or 3 really. You really cannot go wrong with garlic.
1/4 tsp salt
3 packed cups of baby spinach
1 tsp grated lemon zest
1 1/2 tsp fresh lemon juice
1 lb gnocchi
1/4 cup reduced fat parmesan cheese

Simmer the peas, cream, red pepper flakes, garlic and salt in a covered skillet for just about 5 minutes until the peas start to get tender. Remove the lid, add your spinach and cook on medium-low heat until your spinach is wilted. It looks like a lot of spinach at first but spinach cooks down crazy small. Remove from the heat and add in your lemon juice and lemon zest.

At the same time, boil your gnocchi in salted water until al dente. About 2 minutes after they start to float to the top. Save some of the pasta water and drain the gnocchi. Add the gnocchi to your peas and spinach mixture. Toss together and add extra pasta water to coat make sure everything is evenly coated. Top with your parmesan cheese.

And that is it folks. Easiest meal ever and never takes me more than 15-20 minutes. I always save the leftovers and they make pretty decent lunches for work. Keep in mind gnocchi is much better freshly made than re-heated... but hey, it beats a sandwich for lunch!

Nutrition (per serving - 4 servings total)
Calories: 326
Fat: 14 g
Carbohydrates: 46 g
Protein: 10 g

Oh Canada

Sunday, July 15, 2012

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As you may know, I am moving to Michigan very very soon. As in I leave for Michigan in 27 days and get there in 29 days.

Needless to say the only thing I have packed is my shot glass collection... which is obviously the most important part. So important in fact that it took me hours to individually wrap each and every one and pack them nice and neatly into boxes before I left for the summer in Boston. Because really, the only thing I will need in graduate school are shot glasses right?

Who needs clothes, shoes, towels, bedding, toiletries and books anyway? Those things are overrated.

As you can see, my lack of packing seems to be a rather large problem. But I still have 27 days to get my life together... nope! I only have 3.5 really short days in New Mexico at the end of the summer to pull it all together. And it's not like all I am doing is packing... I do have other plans:

1. Eat a TON of food. Literally, I may gain 10 pounds in 3.5 days and I don't even give a damn. This may be the last time to eat at some of my favorite restaurants and eat so much yummy Mexican food.

2. Have lunch at Andele's with one of my best friends.

3. Have an all day happy hour extravaganza with some of my favorite people. Oh happy hour how I have missed you!! Boston doesn't believe in happy hours... no really, it's illegal. Reason #15 why living in Boston would be a bad choice.

4. Family dinner.

5. Maybe some hiking with good friends who will also be in town.

6. Dinner and drinks with the Sisterhood.

7. Bar time... all the time.

And then after all of that, I can possibly, maybe start thinking about packing. As you can see, I have my plate (and cup) rather full for 3.5 days. I even had to nix a dentist appointment I had wanted to schedule because clean teeth take a backseat to good friends and family.

However, none of these encompass a main concern. A concern of mine that has been growing steadily for some time. What exactly is this concern? How do I go about finding a Canadian to marry?

You think I am kidding. I assure you I am not. I have never been more serious about anything in my life. Which is saying a lot because I'm actually quite serious when it comes to school and you know, my future. Just those little things.

This concern of mine came about when I realized the pressure the world was putting on me to marry a Canadian man. The world seems to be very adamant about this and vocally expresses it through my friends.

You see, since I have been telling people that I am moving to Michigan in August I have gotten a lot of responses. Do you know what the number one response has been? Nothing to do with how this will be great for my future, how I'm going to hate the cold, how I will love Ann Arbor. No... the number one response I have received is that moving to Michigan will be the best thing for me because my chances of finding a Canadian husband have increased by 85% percent due to proximity to the actual country of Canada.

When I asked my friends why everyone who knows me believes I should marry a Canadian these are some of the responses I have received...

1. "You'll have a really sweet house in the woods in Canada that will be an excellent place to visit and do wintery wonderful activities."

2. "You love syrup."

3. "I know you really hate kids, Kaitlyn, but you'll love Canadian kids. There's a big difference."

4. "Not only will you have awesome Canadian kids but they'll speak French and wear berets."

5. "I mean, look at you. You basically scream F off boys unless you're Canadian. I wouldn't be surprised if that is the first question you ask on a date."

6. "You talk like a Canadian anyway. This way you'd have an excuse to say Eh all the time."

7. My personal favorite... "Obviously I need to use your son for his dual citizenship to smuggle Cuban cigars into the USA because Americans apparently aren't allowed to go to Cuba. I've got a lot riding on this."

And we wonder why the rest of the world hates Americans.

I am honestly baffled as to how this Canadian obsession came in to being. But seriously folks, I feel like I have a moral obligation, a duty to uphold and so many people counting on me. I'm really starting to feel the pressure of the situation. I may even have to put out personal paper adds for this issue... or hold auditions.

How hard can it be to find a good Canadian boy in the Ann Arbor vicinity?

I'm not sure but... Challenge Accepted.

Hot Mess

Friday, June 29, 2012

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I have to say, Boston has not been nearly as amazing as last year. I am 100% convinced that I should NEVER live here. I love this city. It really is amazing but there have been some signs that are just too much to ignore when it comes to living here. It is kind of like the universe is throwing huge gigantic signs in my face letting me know this is not where I am meant to be.

It makes my decision about going to Michigan for grad school just that much better. Way better in fact.

What are some of these signs exactly? Well, I will list a few from both of my summers combined...

  • Falling down a flight of stairs... twice... consecutively.
  • Hurting my ankle.
  • Getting an ulcer.
  • Getting a really bad flu
  • Getting a viral throat infection
  • Getting an ear infection
  • Lung congestion
  • All of this interrupting my running progress.
  • Rain... so much rain.
  • Clouds all the time... even if it isn't raining.
  • Experiencing the worst interview process of my life at BU (really it was horrendous. I was shocked at how horribly put together the process was). But I am so grateful for this because if I had liked it and decided to stay in Boston I would have been making the worst life choice. 
Mainly though it is all the sickness. I mean, I'm a sickly person. I often get sick with random little things. Even if I eat healthy (which I really really have been this summer), take vitamins every day, drink lots of water and do everything humanly possible to make myself healthy. It doesn't help. I am still bound to get sick eventually. It's just the law of my nature. And nobody is ever quite surprised when I show up with a runny nose, or a scratchy voice, or a fever that would make Hades jealous. 

However, the amount of sickness that I have had in just 6 weeks of being in Boston is obscene. And when I get sick, I genuinely don't give a damn about anything... except showing up for work. I'm pretty adamant about that. 

-Sidebar: Did you know that 79% of men and 84% of women do not feel comfortable with taking off from work when they are genuinely sick. Yep, go ahead and group me in with that 84%. It makes me nervous and stressed and for some obscure reason I think I will lose my job or get a bad review if I take off work. This is stupid. Nobody at works wants to get sick with whatever you have. And lets face it, you aren't even an efficient worker when you're really sick. And if your boss really truly gets mad about you getting healthy because you're at home puking your guts out or curled in your bed with a fever of 101 then you should not want to work there and I suggest looking for a new place of employment. 

Yes, I know all of this but I still hate calling in sick and I don't think this will actually change for me anytime soon.

Anyway, I genuinely don't give a damn about anything. Like getting dressed... who does that!? If, I am not at work I am in my pajamas. True fact, I actually walked to CVS to get medicine in my pajamas because I was too exhausted to put on a pair of jeans and didn't even want to be leaving the house in the first place.  

Ironically, I think I was hit on by the cashier... or I am being stalked by him. I really have not yet decided which one it is. Then again, I suppose if you're walking around in your pajamas in Boston you're kind of hard to miss. Especially if you did the exact same thing 2 weeks prior because you were sick then too. 

My life is kind of a hot mess and besides taking bottles full of drugs... the prescribed kind... I guess I am really not in too big of a rush to "get it together." 

Batty Boston

Monday, June 4, 2012

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There are many things in life that I think I handle quite well and with a certain amount of grace, though I may complain about it at the time. Some of these things include working 12 hour days and 80 hour weeks though I would much prefer not to and am trying to wean myself off from doing this (as if it is really my decision). Falling down/up stairs... obviously this is not very graceful but it's something you must get used to if you're as clumsy as me. Sticking to running at least 3 miles a day 5-6 times a week. Cleaning. Moving to new places where you don't know anybody. Standing in line at the grocery store. Being on my feet for well over 80% of my day. Sticking to a budget. Being covered in rumen fluid and god only knows what else from certain animals such as sheep and cattle...

However, there is one thing I absolutely CANNOT handle and this is furry, crawling, flying, insects/animals or just about anything else inside my house that should be outside my house. And let me tell you, I've had my fair share of creepy crawly things in my day: scorpions, centipedes, geckos, numerous varieties of spiders, and even a mouse once which just about made me throw up.

So, when I was going to put my water glass away in the dishwasher late the other night I didn't expect a bird to fly less than 2 inches away from my face in my living room. This caused an entire series of events... me running to my room freaking out, waking up all of my roommates, hiding behind doors and running frantically away from the flying animal.

The next and only obvious choice is to call our parents. I mean what else do we do when you're freaking out and contemplating shooing the winged creature into the stairwell and having somebody else deal with it. So I get my parents on the phone and I blurt out to my dad that there is a bird in the house and I don't know how to get it out and we are currently locked in our rooms for fear of being attacked by birds. All I can think about is the movie Birds and my outlook on the situation gets drastically worse. Then my Dad pauses and asks, "Is it a bird? Or a bat?"

No freakin way... it's probably a bat. It's 11 at night why would a bird be in here. I don't have glasses on and I ran away too quickly to see if it was actually a bird.

And that is when all of Medical Microbiology comes flashing back to me and I think of the cases in which kids got scratched/bit by a bat got rabies and died. That's it folks. I'm going to have to climb my way out of my 3 story apartment because get real if you think I am going back out there to suffer rabies. That stuff is crazy.

So yes, it was indeed a bat. And it took 3 girls and one boy (my roommate's boyfriend) well over 40 minutes to get this crazy flying creature out of our house. In the process we manage to completely contaminate a trashcan, throw several pillows and tissue boxes around the room, and in the end accidentally kill the bat.

And don't judge me about this. I love animals as much as the next person... probably more than the next person. Once, I ran over a rabbit and I had to pull over on the side of the rode because I was crying so hard because I felt so bad for the poor little bunny. But I also love not having rabies. I've decided this is probably a really really good thing. So much that I don't feel bad for this little bat. It shouldn't have come in to our house in the first place...

Suffice to say, Boston has been making me a little batty.

If A Boy Gives You A Cake

Saturday, May 26, 2012

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Have you ever wondered what makes a person ask another person out? Or how they actually go about asking someone out? I have... many times.

Like today, when I was at the grocery store and this 20 something year old cashier starts chatting me up about how unfocused I am. Which, really I was. I was getting my groceries and truly off in a world all my own thinking about meals I wanted to make, where I wanted to go running, where was the best place to buy a coffee travel mug because not having coffee every morning was starting to drive me crazy... all in all I was not really at the grocery store.

So, in this state of mind, without even thinking about it, I was completely ignoring the cashier as he was blabbing on and on about who knows what. Summer, memorial day... New York I think. It is all a little hazy. I wasn't paying attention and his what I think was an italian accent was rather hard to actually understand. Especially when I am quite hard of hearing already. I think it is why my normal talking voice is so incredibly loud. I really just do not hear all that well.

All of this mixed together lead to a really strange and extremely awkward encounter.

As I am helping bag my stuff, which I am not exactly sure if you're supposed to do that but I always do anyway, I find myself whipping out a few "Yeahs," a couple "Uh-huhs," and quite a lot of "Mmm-hmms."

That is why the next part was very odd... I hear the cashier say, "So I guess thats a no?"

My head snaps up from my purse where I was  frantically trying to find my debit card. I make a tiny second of eye contact with this guy and look back down and mumble a "I'm sorry what?"

"So I guess that's a no to a date."

At that my eyes flash back up with my debit card half way in the air where I stand a little frozen. Did this all really just happen? Then, I think he realizes how not present my mind is so was making a joke... but when I smile and kind of half giggle, his face starts to fall a little... and I realize what a bitch I am being at that precise moment.

First, I don't listen to the guy. Then, I don't even answer when he asks me out. Then, I proceed to laugh at the whole situation. Super classy Kaitlyn. Super classy.

Somehow, I managed to get out of there with something along the lines of I'm flattered truly but no thank you.

Then it hits me... why the hell did he even ask me out anyway... in a grocery store. I was in his presence for a mere 2 minutes maybe. I didn't really talk to him even or look at him. What in this whole situation makes a guy want to ask me out. Absolutely nothing. I appear to be a pre-occupied, day dreaming girl who could really not give a flying flip about what is going on around her. I am truly astonished at this entire situation. I still can't seem to figure this one out.

But, I need to mention that after the fact I whole heartedly appreciated how he went about the entire deal.

I have a huge problem. It's doesn't have a name but it probably really should. It's so bad that every single one of my friends has commented on it several times and instructed me to fix it.

You see, this little problem I have is not noticing when a guy is asking me out. Ever. I just don't see the cues. They go completely unrecognized to me at all times. I have had more than a handful of guys tell me that they tried to ask me out and I apparently "shot them down" ... more than once. Guys I, at the time, really liked and was convinced they didn't like me. So bad in fact, that once I was apparently in some kind of relationship with this boy and I was completely unaware of it. How does that even happen!!? Once, I was offered a cake and turned it down because I was too full. Which I was. I had just eaten lunch actually. Who the heck am I?

People... let me give you life's MOST IMPORTANT lesson. If a boy offers you cake. You never say no. Never. Do you hear me? I don't care if you just ate an entire antelope family. You eat that flippin cake. If you never learn anything else in life. Learn that. 


Monday, May 21, 2012

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It has been awhile. But, as I said in my last post I am no longer apologizing for this. However, I can shed some light on to why I have been a little MIA and why I will hopefully be writing to you more soon.

A lot has happened in the last couple of weeks... and I sure do mean a lot. First, and most important, things first. I graduated from college. What an amazing feeling it was. Not the actual graduation. The actual graduation was a waste of 3ish hours of my life where I stood in the hot sun for an hour, almost fell down and broke my life on the steepest ramp of the world in my heels, waited inside in chairs that were too close with other graduates who were just as hot and miserable as I was, and after all of that I walked across a stage for less than 30 seconds.

It was riveting, as I am sure you can tell. I understand that this was for my family so I sucked it up and did it anyway. And I have to say thank the universe that it is over. The actual amazing feeling came when I stepped out of my last final, a final I must say I only studied about 2 hours for. It was Ecology... and I did not enjoy ecology to say the least. And as my last final in a class I was about 90% positive I was getting a B with or without studying, I really did not see the point in wasting a full day of studying for it.

Regardless, after the final I had to walk through a large chunk of campus to get back to my car. And that is when it hit me. This was the last time I was going to walk those grounds as an NMSU student. The last time I was going to cross the Horseshoe (a chunk of grass with a street around it shaped like... you guessed it... a horseshoe). The last time I was going to pass that horrible Bell that chimed every 15 minutes, always a couple of minutes early of the actual 15, 30, 45, or hour mark. That stupid bell that would wake me up in the middle of the night when I lived in the dorms.

And suddenly I found myself actually missing it a little. I would never listen to it again and think well, I'm officially late to class.

So many other little things triggered great memories of midnight walks, mud puddles, stress, happiness... and now they are officially that... memories.

I write this from Boston where I am currently getting a little nostalgic about NMSU and New Mexico. Something, I knew would eventually happen but something I was running from too. But it feels good to be done. I closed a little chapter of my life and it feels... Sad. Amazing. Scary. Exciting. And 50 other things rolled into 1.

I would like to mention I did in fact get a 4.0 which means I got an A in Ecology... which really was a horrible thing to happen. It just backed up my decision to not study... which is a horrible habit to have.

So, right after my final I pretty much jumped into graduation, and parties, and more parties, did I mention I went to some parties ;) But really, it was almost exhausting!! Then I packed about a quarter of my life and got tired so I stopped and took a little gallivant to Maryland and the HHMI headquarters which was fun as usual. Next stop was 30 hours to do some more packing and hop some more planes and end up here in Boston/Brookline.

As you can see, I've been fairly preoccupied. And I know this post was not funny or particularly interesting but I needed you to get caught up before I can get into the random occurrences.

Character Flaws

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

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I think we are all on the same level here. I am a failure. So, I am no longer going to apologize for my lateness in blogs or long intervals of time between some of them. There really is no point. It's a major character flaw that is a permanent fixture in my life. I've accepted it.

Right this very second I am doing my all time favorite activity... procrastination. I have a huge paper due tomorrow and I just don't seem to want to do it. I need to do it. It's 25% of my grade, so yeah I need to do it but I don't want to. This is also a character flaw. I've been noticing more of them lately.

On the positive, I have several pages of this paper done. There is no page limit or recommendation for how many pages we should have so I suppose this really has nothing to do with the productivity of the actual paper. I still have the virulence factors, a case example, and a health fact sheet to do. In case you were wondering, this paper is about Campylobacter jejuni a sweet little bacterial food-borne pathogen that causes some not-so-sweet problems with your insides.

But holly hell, this thing has like 85,000 virulence factors (factors which make it toxic and make the infected person really wish they had cooked their food better and washed their hands) which means 85,000% more writing to do. I should have gone with a simpler one who simply produces a toxin and causes you too poo. But no, I had to be difficult with my 20ish citations and hating life on my last week of classes.

I really cannot take this paper right now. I have 2 weeks exactly before I leave for Maryland, then Boston, then Michigan. Does the universe really want me to be doing papers and taking finals... NO. The universe wants me to eat amazing food, drink tons of wine/liquor, have good old fashioned sleepovers, watch movies, go look at beautiful houses, visit my old high school one last time, and of course see all of my friends.

These are just some of the planned events I have coming up on my last 2 weeks. Obviously, there is no time for papers or finals. Or packing... I've decided I should really pay somebody to do this for me. Lets just graduate and be done with this nonsense.

At least work is done! Bye bye sheepies, and cowsies, and all other farm animals that I had the distinct pleasure of working with for the past 4 years. But really, it was time for me to move on from smelling like a barn and instead get ready to freeze my behind off in cold Michigan winters.

I am actually quite scared for this. I just watched The 5 Year Engagement on Monday and it was like my cold frozen life was flashing before my eyes (Emily Blunt ends up being a postdoc at the University of Michigan).

Well, ladies and gents I hope you enjoyed these random paragraphs of my life's nonsense but now a cup of very strong New Orleans Chicory coffee is calling my name along with the end of the school year. I must fight my ongoing battle with procrastination!

Easter Camping

Saturday, April 14, 2012

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We are well packed for our camping trips!
A week ago today, I was sitting in the Gila National Forest on the most beautiful of days. No wind. Slightly cloudy skies. No homework. No people or noise or distractions. Just me, my dad, my mom and my two pups Emmy and Murphy.

Fast forward one week... I am sitting in my room avoiding doing homework. It's a disgustingly nasty spring day. Winds up to 40ish mph. Dust blowing in through the windows. And too many noises and distractions around.

Amazing how so much changes in a week. A week ago was Easter. As you know, I am not religious but we have been celebrating the traditions of Easter since I was a wee little girl and I love it. One of my favorite things is that we go camping on Easter.

We are a camping family. And we do it well.

We can sleep in tents... but we don't because we have a much more comfortable way to hide from the cold and the rain. When I was young we bought this pretty awesome pop-up tent camper thing from a family friend. It has seen us through many trips. Though, we spend a good 80% of our time camping outside, it is nice to not lay on an uneven rocky surface.

I think we eat better camping then we do even at home. Everything made in the woods on a fire is just incredibly more tasty. Take a hot dog. A hot dog is pretty tasty at home on your grill... but in the woods it's like a 5 star meal that obviously had to have been made with the finest ingredients in all the land. It's kind of magical how the forest seems to have that power over you.

Easter is more special in the forest. My parents used to hide the eggs filled with candy all around the forest and my sister and I would wake to freezing cold mornings to find the colored gifts scattered high in the trees. It's so much more rewarding that way.

We had freezing years where the candy would literally freeze in the eggs. We had years where the droughts prohibited fires throughout the forest in an effort to prevent all the trees going up in a burning blaze. We had windy years where you couldn't sleep because you felt like you may just be lifted right out of your sleeping bag and thrown into the air.

But this year was perfect. It was cool but not cold. It was breezy but not windy. It didn't rain. We had fires all weekend long. We played games, hiked, flew kites. It was perfect. Well, almost perfect. Almost perfect because this was the first year my sister wasn't there to spend it with us seeing as how she is in grad school in Pennsylvania. And almost perfect because it is more than likely the last Easter camping trip I will ever get to go on.

I'm starting to get a little sappy and a little nervous and a little bitter-sweet about everything. I have exactly 28 days until I graduate and 32 days until I leave New Mexico for good. Well, almost for good. I come back 1 day after a very short science related trip to Maryland, just so I can pack and fly out to Boston the next day. Then in August I am back for a total of 3.5 days so I can pack up my whole life in to my tiny new car and drive off to Michigan.

It's all getting very real and I am not preparing for it at all. I'm one of those last minute packers/preparers and right now I am more concerned with the my food list. You know, the list of food I have to eat before I leave. Oh... the amount of green chili being consumed in 1 month is going to be a new record. I am sure of it.

I hope you all had a wonderfully amazing Easter whether you're religious or not. Enjoy the moments... life never stays the same for long.

The Mac Attack

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

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I am apparently way behind on the times. I think I should have lived in the 80s mainly because I think it would be fun... or the 20s because I think I would have been bomb at running a speakeasy, not to mention I would have loved to rock some of their fashion.

Oh yes, behind on the times... I don't know if you've noticed but Macintosh (aka Mac) has become surprisingly popular in the past couple of years. I imagine you must have heard of it... you probably own an iPod, iPad, iPhone, Mac Book... and who even knows what else they sell. But maybe you've heard somebody call an electronic device an Apple...

Or maybe you're like me and ignore everything and choose to only listen to what you want. Which is why in this era of Apple-mania I only own 1product because it really is the only legitimate source of musical influence in my life (my iPod). It's a classic iPod... huge and white and a little scratched. And full of my music. Music is probably my favorite thing in the entire world next to movies and food. I love anything and everything with a good beat, good lyrics (or at least catchy lyrics), and rides whatever emotional wave I am currently on at the time.

I listen to music when I drive anywhere, I listen walking between classes, I listen while doing homework or cleaning, I listen when I work out. I simply love to lie and listen to music. It is really quite an amazing thing and I couldn't imagine growing up in a country or culture that didn't allow music. It's tragic and even the thought of it is enough to break my heart.

Anyway, that is the only reason I invested in any Mac product while I was in high school... and really, I didn't invest in one. I was given my sister's old hand-me-down as she went at bought whatever new version was out. Then, when my old one broke. Which was purely an accident. It had nothing to do with the fact that I dropped it on the asphalt a good 6 times and the screen was shattered beyond all recognition. Or that it was caught in my non-waterproof jacket in a rainstorm. Nope, those had nothing to do with it... for reasons that are beyond my comprehension, it broke. And I was forced to buy a new one.

Around the same time, my sister bought a new touch iPod... and I was like why in the world do you want that fancy gadget? First off, it doesn't even hold as much music! What is the point of a musical device if it cannot hold years worth of music. It doesn't make sense to me. I don't need to play games or get on the internet... I really just need to be able to listen to lots and lots of music. Second, have you seen that very fragile touch screen... you must be joking. Me? I'd have that broken in 2 days max.

I am very hard on my electronics... I'm actually just very hard on my life. I'm quite clumsy and often break things, including myself.

So, I stayed behind on those times and refused to by any fragile mac product and ignored the rants and raves about the newest Mac product... and there is always something new... just give it a month. Though, I did fork out $400+ on my mom's iPad for her Christmas present which broke my wallet and my heart all at the same time.

Then this fancy new thing called Instagram came out... I had no idea what it was except that it involved some sort of picture taking functions and that it was only available on the iPhone. That is when I immediately let it get lost in the place in my brain that holds pointless facts that I will never be able to use.

Then today or yesterday... I'm not exactly sure on this time table... Instagram was released for the Android. That's right. Me and my old-fashioned Droid 2 Global can now get the Instagram application and see what all the fuss is about. Only problem... I really am out of date on the times and since I started writing this post a good while ago my Instagram download is only at 65%. And all I can think is this probably didn't happen to people who have iPhones.

All the while, my computer is flashing that my battery has gotten so bad that it can only hold a charge on its own for 2 hours max and I should probably think about getting it changed. And then I am informed that I should just by a new computer because really... this old gigantic  17 inch Toshiba laptop is just not cutting it anymore.

And now, I find myself sitting at the computer looking in to buying a Mac Book Pro... sometimes I miss the days of writing a report or doing my science poster by hand because we didn't have a computer.

Then, I look at my hand-writing that closely resembles that of a two year old and think... all these years, Steve Jobs was only creating this product known as Apple to save the world from trying to read my chicken scratch or look at my horrible drawings. This makes me feel a little better about the impending Mac attack.

Thanks for looking out for me Apple. Now all I need to do is find the cash in order to purchase this Mac Book Pro.

Also... my android phone decided to get the little hamsters rolling and installed Instagram. You can follow me @kaitnorm if you want. Though I don't have any photos yet... they will surely be coming soon!

Changing In Your Car

Thursday, March 29, 2012

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I recently... as in just this morning... was asked a strange question. Actually, the only thing strange about the question was that it was being asked at all. And then I realized maybe the fact that somebody had to ask me this question just meant that I was a little strange too. So, I know you're sitting there wondering... what was the question?

Did you just change in you car?

In which I replied, with a sort of quizzical look on my face... Yes. Doesn't everybody?

No. Apparently people don't change in their cars. Which really is a new fact that I am stumbling upon. The guy friend who happened to ask this question saw me entering my car in jeans covered with sheep muck, an old t-shirt, and boots with my hair in a high messy bun.

Less than 5 minutes later he saw me getting out of my parked car in a different parking lot wearing jeans, knock off Sperry's, a blue wrap t-shirt, and my hair in a side twist.

At this fact he just simply laughed at me, said I was always a strange one, and explained that my life is really too hectic if I have to change in my car and then he proceeded to buy me a coffee.

I never really thought about how changing in your car might be considered strange. I mean, when your day consists of waking with a 2.5 hour horse riding class, then several hours of normal class, then off to the gym, then meetings that required dress attire, then hours of studying in the library... all within the same day. Every single one of these events calls for a different outfit. It's not like I can just show up as President of the Panhellenic Council in jeans, a t-shirt, and cowboy boots. Or show up for my riding lessons or work with the sheep in a dress and heels. This is not acceptable. So the only obvious choice was to just change in your car in the middle of events because I was not about to carry a duffel bag full of clothes all across campus.

This is how my car (poor old Coop) got turned into one gigantic closet. At all times I had a dress, t-shirt, jeans, nice shirt, dress pants, work out clothes, pajamas, sweatshirt, heels, flats, flip-flops, tennis shoes, and cowboy boots in case the occasion called for any of the above. And trust me... I went in to my stash of extra clothes several times every week.

There were times in college where I didn't even have time to go home and shower so I would just stop off at a friends house close to campus and jump in their shower really quickly. It is quite convenient to have extra clothes always at hand.

Plus, if anybody needed an extra shirt or a jacket or heels to wear to an event, I always had them covered. I'm pretty positive my car also had a first aid kit, several board games, pom poms (which was strange because I was never a cheerleader), an emergency car kit that I didn't know how to use, my dad's wrench that he thought he lost for 2 years, 87 dollars in change, a research poster, AA and AAA batteries, a flashlight, 5 novels, 3 textbooks, and countless other things that I couldn't even begin to explain. 

But now Coop has gone far away and I am driving my sisters old car to school because I am not about to have my new car smelling like a barn and I am also not going to leave it in the ghetto free parking lots where Coop was often broken in to.

Now that Coop has gone to live in his fancy junk yard and my days have grown less crazy, I find I don't have a closet in my car anymore. I also find that because of this I can't actually fit all of my clothes in my room closet anymore.

Who knew after five years of a crazy hectic life I'd actually be sad about trading in the days of living in my car...
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