A Letter To My Bathtub

Dear Garden-style Oasis of Love,

I'm in love with you. And please don't tell me it's too soon for me to feel this way. It's been nine months and I'm hypnotized by your ways. Actually, bathtub, I hesitated about whether or not I should tell you this, but you are what gets me out of bed in the morning. Knowing you are waiting for me with your fiberglass arms of bliss, aahhhh....I get weak in the knees just thinking about it.

This letter is a big step for me, bathtub. You have to know...not many people approve of our relationship. They can't seem to understand why I enjoy your company so much, why I'm willing to forgo showers for the rest of my life just to remain in your tender embrace. Filling you up fills me up. Plain and simple.

And, bathtub, thank your for being selfless with your personal space. I love that you willingly hold my crosswords and books and homework and 45 half empty shower gel bottles. That's so sacrificial of you. You have no idea. But it makes me realize I need to put more effort in our relationship so you don't feel drained, so to speak.

I promise you, bathtub, there are so many exciting times ahead for us. I think about you all day and can't wait to be in your arms again.

Loofa,
Katy

Why I Outta....

Yesterday after work, I had one mission in mind: jeans shopping. I left work at about 4:30 and headed to my favorite place to shop for jeans, The Buckle. Please remind me next time I go there that the sales associates are nice not because God gave them the genetic blessing of compassion...no, they are nice because if they sell you pricey jeans, they get a sweet little commission. Jerks. Here's what happened.

Katy enters The Buckle and is greeted by an associate. Katy wanders to the sale rack and hears a soothing, low voice at the back of the store.

George: Is there something I can help you find?

Katy: No thanks, I'm just (katy turns and sees the handsome man attached to the voice)...actually, maybe you can help me with some jeans.

George: I'd be happy to. Do you know what kind you want?

Katy: Well, I have a card from the last time I was in here. It has the type of jeans I buy on it.

George: Look at you. I'm so impressed!

(Katy giggles)

George: Okay, I'll grab a few for you and put them in a dressing room while you look around.

Katy: Sounds awesome. Thanks.

(A few minutes later...)

George: So, you're havin a good day aren't you?

Katy: Why, do I look like I'm having a good day?

George: I can tell these things.

(Katy Giggles)

Katy: Yeah, it's a good day.

George: So, what do you do?

Katy: Work and go to school.

George: Awesome. Hey, I love your bag.

Katy: Thanks! I got it at Old Navy about 2 years ago. My sister is always trying to get me to carry expensive bags, but I always go back to what's comfortable.

George: I hear ya. Me too.

(The conversation continues light heartedly until Katy informs George that she is ready to try on her clothes. George escorts her to the dressing room.)

George: I'm looking forward to seeing those jeans on you.

(Katy giggles)

George (while Katy is trying on clothes): So...uh, you got any plans for Valentine's Day?

Katy's inner monologue: omigosh! He's totally gonna ask for my number. He thinks I'm cute. omigosh! What is it with me lately? Guys are all over me! I'm awesome!

Katy: nah, not this year.

George: Hmmmm....well that's no good. We'll have to do something about that.

(Katy giggles)

Katy: Will we?

After trying on three pairs of jeans and three shirts, Katy makes her selections and hands them to George.

George: I'll see you at the register.

Katy: Okay

(At the register)

George: I went ahead and punched a few extra amounts on your card, so you can get the discount.

Katy: Wow! Thanks.

George: I'll just need your address.

Katy tells him her address.

George: Are those the apartments by Target?

Katy: Yeah.

George: With the big bathtubs?

Katy: Oh yeah.

George: I live in one of the sister complexes. That's so crazy!

Katy starts imagining their wedding.

George: I just need your driver's license

Katy hands George her driver's license

George: NO WAY!!!! We have the exact same birthday! Same month! Same year! Same day!

Katy starts naming their future children in her mind.

George: Now I have such an awesome story to tell my wife tonight!!!

Aaaaaaaand scene....

Two Scoops of Lovin

It's impossible for me to be mad at anyone eating an ice cream cone. Am I alone in this? The other day, I was in traffic and some rude ho decided to cut me off. Well, I pulled around her and got ready to give her my mean, dirty, road rage face when I noticed she was enjoying a delightful soft serve. I immediately withdrew my ammo. What could I say or do to this woman that would pull her out of her child-like reverie? Nothing. And, frankly, at that point it didn't matter. I was already holding hands with her and skipping to the see-saw in my mind.

Maybe that's the answer. Maybe, in the future, when I decide to rob banks n stuff, I will always be sure to carry a double scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough (because, hello, that's the best). And when I'm waving my gun around in terror while simultaneously enjoying a famous American tradition, people will be more inclined to give me their money. And if they don't give me their money it will be all good in the hood because did I mention I will be eating ice cream?

And maybe the people working at Wal-Mart should eat ice cream cones all the time. Because I promise you I would be less inclined to yell at them if I knew their incompetence was being negated by the euphoria that could only be induced by a cold, delicious, creamy treat.

So, kids. If you are ever in a situation where you want to embark on a murderous rampage, due to anger or frustration toward an individual or an establishment, I highly recommend you picture said individual or establishment holding a swirly frozen yogurt cone from Braum's in their hand. I promise it will harvest peace in your chi.

Life Lessons I Have Learned In My Life As Lessons For Life (Lessons)

1. It's never a good idea to rub your eye after handling jalapenos. It stings real bad.

2. Always proofread letters you send out from work. If not, you could end up asking a client to 'sing' a Petition for Administration instead of 'sign' it. Also, it is very easy to misspell the word 'and.' Nobody likes getting letters about 'nads,' gang.

That's really all I've learned in life, so far. I find it to be helpful, though. Hope you do too.

Hot Panera

Welp. I basically love Panera Bread Company. Three days a week, I meet my friend, Lindy, there for breakfast. We've established a nice little routine and it's quite enjoyable to go somewhere as a "regular." Occasionally, when walk in the front doors, the entire establishment claps and rises to their feet while confetti falls from the ceiling. We've had to tell them not to do the confetti every time, though, because it's kind of a bother trying to pick shiny round dots out of our hair. We would settle for cash instead, though.

One of my favorite things about my thrice weekly breakfasts with Lindy is the teamwork exhibited by the workers. Sometimes, when we are in the middle of a conversation, we will be interrupted with a hearty yell from the kitchen. If you've been to Panera before, you probably know that they like to announce the fresh items that come out of the oven. In the mornings, those items are usually bagels or souffles. So, roughly twice during our breakfast, Lindy and I are delighted when we hear them yell 'HOT BAGELS!' or 'HOT SOUFFLES!' Mind you, we are not the least bit interested in purchasing these temperature appropriate items, we are just pleased that they take the time to tell us about them.

And it's not just that they yell 'hot bagels' or 'hot souffles,' it's the way in which they say it. The person who retrieves the items announces their arrival and then the rest of the workers repeat the exciting news. But, there's one worker there that always repeats what he's just heard as if he can hardly believe the good news. So, instead of just a hearty shout, it's more like an ecstatic question. 'HOT BAGELS???? YOU'VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!!! WHO'S EVER HEARD OF SUCH AN AMAZING THING!? HOT BAGELS???' And that is the best part of our morning. We wait to hear how this worker responds to shouts coming from the kitchen because we know it will be awesome. And, just so you know, Lindy is now in a position where she feels totally comfortable with shouting out the good news to the restaurant too. And that's the best part of my morning.

Why I'm Cooler Than All Y'all Fools

I own vinyl. More importantly, I own a record player. In all truthfulness, my post could end right here and now. It could end with the confidence that the point I'm introducing in the title will have been adequately made. But, I'm gonna talk about it a lil more because, well, that's just what I do.

Since I was a little girl, I've been in love with my grandmother's record player. Whenever we went to her house, I would take the time to clear off the picture frames and china dolls from her record player holder contraption thing (I have no idea what it's called, but it is big and an unnaturally stained color of wood). After completing the dusty task, I would slide open the door on the top and all my mother's old records would be inside. Oh they were magnificent. The Surpremes, Jackson 5, The Sound of Music, Dean Martin...such lovely classics. I would play them and lay on my grandma's living room floor absorbing the sounds and feeling some sort of spiritual connection to the songs and the times they represented in my mother's life.

So, three Christmases ago, my grandmother bought me my very own record player. It was the greatest gift ever! About three weeks later, I found myself knee deep in a record give-away at the OU campus. I had heard about it in one of my classes and, sure enough, that afternoon there were tables and tables and tables full of records that they were just GIVING away. I got some Fleetwood Mac, Heart, James Taylor, Elton John. For. Free. I might start weeping soon.

It's safe to say, my collection of vinyl is pretty extensive. But, that didn't keep me from the wonderful record store off of Western Avenue and 36th Street last Saturday. Oh no siree it did not. I purchased Madonna's Immaculate Collection, Elliot Smith, and Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Volume II. Please try to contain your excitement. Do you need to lie down? Please don't worry too much, though. My coolness will probably be exploding into lemon jolly rancher flavored rain drops pretty soon. It's just that intense. And, I'm worried about mentioning this next little fact because my computer might just implode upon itself due to the sheer, overwhelming COOLNESS of it all. But what the heck. Here goes....I have a subscription to Rolling Stone Magazine...

The Questionnable Nature of My Flip Calendar

At the beginning of every year, I look forward to purchasing new calendars. My two favorite types of calendars are wall calendars and flip calendars. This year I went with a French theme and, so far, I've been delighted with the results...of my wall calendar.

For my flip calendar this year, I get a brand new french phrase every day. Around the beginning of January, the phrases were cute and applicable, like Happy New Year! or Au Boulot! (Get back to work!). But for the past couple of weeks, I've been somewhat confused by the phrases I'm greeted with every morning.

As I'm assuming most people who buy this calendar are looking for common phrases that we can use in conversation in order to practice the French language, I'm surprised to learn that this is not the case for the "Living Language Flip Calendar of 2008."

Let me give you an example. The French phrase for January 25, 2008 is "La peur ne se commande pas" which means "You can't control fear." Okaaaaaaay...What ever happened to "I really like your sweater today!" or "How are the kids?" I personally can't remember the last time I've ever walked up to someone with a strong desire to darkly tell them fear cannot be controlled. And, frankly, it kind of makes January 25th a day I'm not all that much looking foward to, to tell you the truth.

And how about February 5th? I'm still trying to figure out how I'm going to work in "Elle ne peut plus ecrire" into a jovial lighthearted conversation, seeing as how it means "She can't write anymore." Are the makers of this flip calendar operating a small torture chamber somewhere? What does one have to do to a person to make them not be able to write anymore? And why, oh why, would we ever want to talk about it in French???

For all our sakes, I hope the makers of this calendar don't get upset this year because who knows what next year's calendar will look like if they do. And I'm pretty sure all our suspicions will be confirmed on September 3 as the phrase of the day on that day is "Je pars pour la Suisse apres-demain" (I'm leaving for Switzerland the day after tomorrow). On this day, rest assured I will be using this in a conversation with my mob boss.