Board-folding: a parable (or how I refrained from murder yesterday)


Yesterday,  I learned the valuable lesson of “board-folding.”

What is board folding?.. you may find yourself asking.

WELL, basically it’s folding a shirt, tank, cardigan, sweater (LARGE PIECE OF FABRIC)… while utilizing a plastic board as a kind of stabilizer throughout the process. The result is in theory, a neater folding job so that your stacks of clothing look organized and visually appealing for potential customers.

Let’s talk about these “potential customers” for a second shall we? They do not care about board folding. They care about finding their correct size. They care about small, medium, large and so on and so forth. And they will destroy any “visually appealing” masterpiece you have created in order to ensure they get there.

... and they all have red hair.

I board-folded 75 t-shirts (yes I counted) for 55 MINUTES .

When I was done, these shirts looked like they had undergone the garment version of extreme fabric makeover. To say they looked good is completely undermining the quality of performance I exhibited. These shirts were the Justin Bieber of the cotton world. They could do no wrong. But alas, I find myself entirely too emotionally attached to certain tasks and after spending almost an hour with these particular shirts, I felt a certain protection over their new perfection. I guarded them like a mother bear protects her cubs. I might as well have been growling at people. …It’s fine, I’ll never see them again. Anyway, I stepped away for a few minutes to gaze outside longingly at Noodles and Company (I never really stop wanting Mac and Cheese) and to stare down my stupid ankle and will it back to health in much the same manner Jesus does but with less success. Which was understandably disappointing.

A rookie mistake. Day dream ended, I observed in dismay as 4 (evil) adolescents destroyed my carefully calculated job in a matter of thirty seconds.

It was really all I could do to not strangle them, or myself. Or my boss. What was the point of all that stupid work to just have it destroyed by Miley Cyrus and crew? I just wasted minutes of my life on such a menial, retarded task and for what? So that it could be “visually appealing” for myself?

And the answer I think.. is yes. Because in the moments that the shits, ahem shirts, did look perfect I was actually kind of proud of how good it looked. And I know that sounds idiotic and like I have been brainwashed into thinking that my job has purpose (and maybe sometimes I have) but when you are stuck for 6 hours folding and refolding shirts and staring off into space and wishing you could time travel and wondering if any guy who comes into your store is actually straight… you might find a little pride in your shirt display as well.

Which brings me to my overall point (because I do have one) of the lesson that “board-folding” has taught me. I’m beginning to turn my mindless retail slavery tasks into life parables which makes me feel much less like what I am doing is sucking me of my brain cells and dignity. Anyway..

In life, there will always be things you will take the time to do with the knowledge that at some point, whatever you have accomplished will eventually fall to ruin.

This could be as simple as folding clothes for hours on end to have someONE destroy it in minutes or it could be making your bed very aware that that very night you will once again tear up the sheets or putting up christmas decorations knowing in two weeks, you have to put them away again or it could be something much bigger, like letting your guard down to let someone into your life with the knowledge that at some point, the relationship may fail and that all that “visual perfection” is really just one silly day dream away from coming back to terms with reality.

But we put the effort into making these things temporarily perfect because we know during the time that things are flawless, it’s totally worth it. It’s something to be proud of. To care about. To protect and prolong. And when it is ruined or falls apart, which sometimes happens, and is occasionally inevitable, it’s a comfort to know that if we created something perfect once, we can always do it again. And though getting there might be a tedious or monotonous or painful experience, the final result is always worth it.

So go ahead and make your bed and sleep in it too.

Let your guard down and let someone in your life knowing they might leave.

Fold some clothes and then throw them across the room in a giant pile and then, set them on fire.

Because guess what? The best part about metaphorical “board-folding” is that you GET (!!!!!) to do it again. And (though this doesn’t directly apply to beds or christmas lights) you’ll do it better. And it will last longer. And maybe next time.. perfection will stick around.

I don’t know. All I am saying is that next time I am forced to “board-fold“, the board will also be doubling as a baseball bat to anyone who touches my perfect sweater masterpiece.

*retail smile*


one potato. two potato. three potato. vodka.

Deep thoughts with Meg Ruggieri

TOTAL Gryffindor.

Here are some thoughts that are running around in my brain this morning because God knows that I am not doing any actual running. Sigh.

I think you’ll enjoy… most of them.

1-  I really… don’t like beer. (!!!!!!!!!!!, I know) Honestly, after several beers, I feel like crawling into my bed with a pair of large grey sweatpants and eating an entire bag of Stacy’s Pita Chips and then falling into a deep food coma. I think I’ve actually done this exact thing several times. And it’s like if that is my goal in drinking, fine, but if I’m going out with friends and I’m at a bar.. you don’t want to be feeling like you want pita chips and sweatpants and your bed. This is not acceptable bar behavior. At least not before 1 AM. The lethargic full feeling beer gives me is not my ideal drinking experience. I mean I’ll drink it. If it’s free. (Do I need to stop having this attitude toward free alcohol now that I have graduated? Do I need to start having “taste”? Does this mean no more natty light? These are big life questions. I need to think about them for at least the next two years before I make any sort of major decision.)

2– On that note, I have determined that bartending has drastically changed my drinking expectations. For instance, I order a vast number of shots now whereas before I only ordered tequila (and a lime.. I’m not superman or anything). To say I am proud of this, would be kind of an understatement. After several drinks, I assure everyone that “it’s ok, I know what I’m doing I’m a bartender” and then order a ridiculous concoction that probably looks and tastes like shit. But it’s ok. Because I’m a bartender. It’s my own little license to kill.  And it makes me awesome. The end.

3– Are you aware of how much attention you get with a brace on your ankle and a slight limp? This man yesterday berated me down the entire street yesterday saying “GIRL! Don’t let the haters get you down! You still beautiful with that brace!” and so on and so forth to the point where I was no longer flattered and more just annoyed. I mean thank you sir but the day I start determining my beauty by the the attractiveness of my right ankle will be a day of great victory for narcissists everywhere. Oh, and then I went to Costco and I have decided that the key to multiple free samples without judgement is an ankle brace. These ladies were basically force feeding me. Ok girlfriend, I don’t want any more samples of  your spinach raviolis!!!!! ….Ok, fine. One more. (Yeah, don’t even act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.)

4– This is really random but I was just thinking about the terminology “keep your eyes peeled” and…. gross?? Go on, think about it. Peeled eyeballs are sick!!! (and not sick like cool. Sick like disgusting.)

5– Drunk eating. Let’s discuss. Most people are pretty straight forward in this. Get me to the nearest Taco Bell so I can devour something with beef and beans and cheese. This is understandable. This is normal. Do not have shame. There’s a reason for the fourth meal. What Taco Bell doesn’t say in their commercials is somewhere between 3 and 4, someone had one too many cervezas. In fact, they should really play that up. There’s some potential for some really funny commercials in that. ANYWAY, my point is not to make a blog product placement for T-bell but to rather talk about what I choose to eat after major alcoholic consumption. I’m not normal. At all. I eat weird shit. For example: last night, I came home and consumed two bags of blueberries and a veggie burger. Somewhere the Gods of drunk eating are crying. Really Meg? Blueberries?  Better than 100 cherry tomatoes though. Which I’ve also attempted to eat while intoxicated. Also a shout out to Lindsay Santee for joining me on the veggie burger fiesta festivities last night. Good times Lindsay won’t remember sadly.

6– My chalk board wall is done. And it’s

and that makes me happy.

I hope your weekend is filled with Taco Bell, Costco free samples, compliments from random strangers, impromptu dance parties, and no hangovers, hard tests or ankle injuries. But just in case you’re working through this weekend, remember this:

So you better make time to have some fun you crazy kid!


I’m not dead! (..yet)

Yesterday, I fell into a metaphorical pothole.

It was the first day of school for KU and also Bid day for Sigma Kappa, both of which I was obviously, just one year ago, heavily a part of. And there I was, standing at work, in the fitting room (or the cave, as I like to call it) going on my 3rd hour of banishment, wanting to stab myself in the eye with the nearest clothes hanger and then after several moments of trying to talk myself down… I was very literally bored to tears. 

I mean, really  THIS is my life? I get a degree. I go to school for four years. Spend thousands of dollars (thanks Dad) and NOW, I am working as a part-time sales associate where my only job is to “process” clothes (zip, button and fold) and greet customers with the same welcoming statement for hours on end? IS THIS A SICK JOKE GOD/AMERICA/OBAMA/ASHTON KUTCHER?! ….Please gag me with an overpriced scarf.

You. have. got. to. be. kidding. me. 

 So you can understand, how yesterday as I checked my stowaway phone (when do I ever follow this rule honestly) with pictures, status updates, tweets etc etc about the first day of school and how terrible it is and omg 8 AM class and ugh so annoying the library.. I wanted to come down to ‘ol KU and give a reality check to the entire student body in the form of a lengthy monologue about my sad, sad life. Yes, you could be going to anatomy at 8 AM. Yes, it’s early. Yes, you’re hungover. But for the love of Jesus Christ, you could be being taught by a manager at your employed retail store (cough, purgatory) of choice on what a “perfect” clothes rack looks like. Or how to treat your customers in the fitting room like the guests at a party you are hosting. All the while trying hard to suppress laughter at how “important” it is to put “add-ons” in the fitting room because “if you love it, the customer will too!” and also trying not to vomit at the unfortunate turn of events your life has taken. 

I’m sorry. This is literally dripping with sarcasm. The truth is, the people I work with are generally nice. A few are delusional with their own importance and some never take off what I like to call their “retail masks” but they are mostly  nice people and probably don’t deserve my word wrath. Unfortunately, as I pull no leverage there, I must have a place to say how I feel here. 

this summarizes my job search pain

Anyway, I was at work, went on a ten minute break to collect my life, stared at a pair of earrings I wanted and considered quitting on the spot and running out skipping and laughing and then never going back. But then, after the fantasy faded (which was lovely and I got much joy from it) I realized this would be rude, unprofessional and not really all that realistic, as then I would be actually unemployed and at least I am getting paid to be brain-dead and brain-washed. So, I pulled myself up by my imaginary bootstraps and told myself I would fold the shit out of any jeans that came my way until I found a job that will allow me to FINALLY do something I want to do. And when I do, I will put in my two-weeks notice with GLEE and then buy the entire store. (Because I will need to look good as a professional… AS AN INVESTMENT IN MY 

And then, I felt a little better. And I went back to my cave with a smile because I knew that I would not live there forever. And I helped the nice foreign asian girls like they were patrons at my imaginary tea party and I wanted nothing more than to give them crumpets and doilies until each came out of their  little eyeballs. …Oh yeah, I was THAT good. Because guess what? Someday, I will NEVER work in retail again. And there will be much singing and rejoicing throughout the land.

…So that was yesterday. Yes, yes, I was inspired as well. 

I woke up this morning thinking TODAY IS A NEW DAY! and TODAY, NOTHING WILL GO WRONG! and TODAY I WILL MEET JUSTIN BIEBER AND HE WILL WRITE ME A SONG! (I knew this was a stretch but I mean, I drank a lot coffee so I was feeling preeeeetttyyyy jazzed about the possibility… also just realized that rhymed, perhaps I will become a songwriter myself) 

So I went on a run. The birds were chirping a song out of Snow White. People will greeting me in Beauty and the Beast fashion. Several princes were lining up to sweep me into their Lexus RX Luxury Utility Vehicles (ya.. I don’t do the horse thing)

 The world was alive with possibilities. And then?

…I fell into a literal pothole. 

I know, I know. This was probably self-fulfilling since all I have been doing is talking about how wonderful and perfect Kansas City is to run in. Irony had itself a little chuckle at my demise today. Haha Meg, you survive the small craters in Lawrence only to fall into a tiny crack in Kansas City and have to go to the emergency room. Hahahahaha.. very funny, I’m dying of laughter. Touche, Irony.  

Yes, my ankle was the victim of this particular accident and I am now the proud owner of a new shiny pair of crutches (fist pump) and a swollen mass where my bone used to be. It’s not broken but it ain’t pretty either. And it also means no more running until it heals. Which could be a week. Or it could be a month. 

I am pretty.

But you know what? Some might be defeated by this event. Some might crawl back into their metaphorical pothole waving a white flag of defeat and sorrow. BUT NOT ME! Even though I love running. And I love walking without limping. And crutches may increase my klutziness (which is admittedly, already embarrassingly high) and this will mean I can not go into work for the next few days (…..wait, that’s AWESOME)  I WILL NOT GIVE IN TO THIS SETBACK! 

So instead of crying in my room, I used today to do much self-reflecting and job hunting. Both of which went ok, as I now know that I meant to be a judge on the food network (but a nice one, like Paula on American Idol) and also occasionally say off-color comments on national television (like Chuy, the midget on Chelsea Handler, who informed me today that he’s mexican. which I thoroughly enjoyed.) 

My point is, life is full of metaphorical and literal potholes. But as long as you find yourself a pair of pretty, shiny crutches (or mental crutches to propel you forward) and keep moving, keep your head’re going to be fine. 

I’M GOING TO BE FINE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks to Ms. Rolfes for this ending inspirational tune. 

(and to all you kids that are going out tonight and get horrible hangovers tomorrow morning.. you will be fine too. But I have no sympathy for you! The after-college hangover is a lot more painful and takes much longer to get over)

Ok, enough with the cheese ball metaphors.

Now, I sleep. 


My little goodbyes

There comes a time in everyone’s life when you must say goodbye to something. That could be a relationship or a memory or a particular place, regardless.. when sayonara comes to pass, there’s really not much else to say.

I’ve found though, that in saying goodbye to something really big, like an era in your life, you don’t just say goodbye to it all at once. You say goodbye in pieces. In little increments. And sometimes, you don’t even realize you need to say goodbye to something until it’s right in front of you and you realize it’s not yours anymore. Sometimes, you wait around because you know goodbye is coming but you just aren’t ready to pull the plug.

My brain in closet format

I’m incredibly and annoyingly nostalgic sometimes. However, I’m also not a huge pack rat so instead of physical memorabilia heaped high in my closet, I have stacks and stacks of mental keepsakes that I pile in my head attempting to preserve the past in a sort of subconscious crypt. It’s exactly as disturbing as it sounds. Basically, I can’t let go of certain memories because I’m afraid once I let go, then it’s like they never happened. Don’t try to talk me out of this retarded logic. I know that logically, if something happened, me remembering it hardly changes the fact that it once occurred. But to me, remembering something again and again is kind of like experiencing what I went through and felt over and over. And for certain memories, it’s ALMOST as good as the first time around.

How am I doing on being cryptic? Awesome? Good.

My point is that I’m beginning to realize that in order to let go, to move forward, to move on, to move upward, to start going in ANY direction, I need to clean out this memory closet. And that means saying goodbye to things that have been played back and forth in my head so many times, that at this point, they are probably more fantasy than reality.

Alas...this actually occurred

I think we all have a few memories like that. We give life to a little reminiscence making it a story with a characters and moral and an overarching theme and before you know it, that little memory would make a blockbuster hit at the box office if it would only happen ONE MORE TIME.

But the thing is, it’s just that. It’s only a memory. And it will never happen again. So, if all your little trivial reflections aren’t so much sustaining you into the future as much as chaining you to the past… You need to know when to say goodbye.

Said a few little goodbyes today…

But also a big hello to a little thing we also all know and love:


Have a good one!


This one’s for the girls: (a recruitment week survival package)

As promised..

4 years ago, I went through rush. It was easily the top five most challenging experiences of my college career. I am not going to lie about this.. I was HORRIBLY unprepared for the kind of intense singing, dancing, clapping, rhythmic movements, overly cheesy conversations, and decision making that went on for 5 straight days. Still, I would put on a brave face, smile my freaking head off and try my very very best to not look like a sweaty teenage boy. I failed horribly at 1/3 of these but luckily, my good looks really are what got me through the whole exhausting experience.

Bid Day 2007. The first girl I met was going to be my best friend. Ya, luckily.

Any one who tells you that recruitment is easy is LYING. Even someone who could talk to a cardboard box and become friends (namely, myself) wanted to die from the entire experience. And if it was easy for them, then they totally suck and probably have perfect hair and never sweat and are named Bunny or something equally vomitizingly obscure.

And the girls who have older sisters or friends in houses (THAT GUARANTEED THEM A SPOT NO MATTER WHAT blahblahblah) STILL had to sit through the long hours, the horrendous heat and hang out with the bitchy, the loud, and the potentially brain-dead other 700 girls going through it. It’s almost enough to make one want to drop out of the whole process.. almost.

Because here’s what you don’t understand when you are going through it– I promise with the positivity of someone who went through hell and back for her damn sorority, no matter if you are going through recruitment or on the other side recruiting…that it is absolutely one hundred and fifty percent worth it.

You will not die! You will survive this week! And you want to know why? Do you want to know how? I shall share my secrets with you now. Feel blessed with this information for it will change your lives.

The Top Ten Ways to Survive Recruitment Week and Make it to Sunday Funday without setting yourself (or your sisters) on fire —

Disclaimer: This is mostly for girls, guys. You won’t enjoy the soppy shiz you are about to embark upon and read. But I guess, be my guest if you would like to. Furthermore, this reflects my own opinions and does not represent the greek system or my sorority as a whole. (I’ve always wanted to write that. I bet you think I’ve said some really intense stuff in here. Guess you’ll have to read to find out…)

10. Cry.

That’s right. Get that shit out! HOWEVER, don’t do it in the middle of a round. Or in front of everyone. But give yourself a few minutes of breathing, talk to your best friend, your mom, your dog on skype etc. and just do a little crying. Recruitment week is stressful. Sometimes, it’s good to just get out some emotion because you are constantly having to put your feelings on the back burner. Sophomore year, I called my mom balling because we got in trouble for putting fruit in the water during rounds from Panhellenic. I witnessed our recruitment chair get yelled at and for some reason, a dam inside of me broke and I started sobbing. My mom, who is not in the greek system probably thought I lost my mind and that she had sent her daughter to a loony bin. But honestly, after a solid 2 minutes of gulping for air and crying over fruit.. I felt ten times better! To any one reading this who hasn’t gone through recruitment, look at it as any event that you are under high stress. Sometimes, you just have to break something. Or cry. Crying involves less clean up. So let it out. Call me if you need to. Sista’s been there.

9. Have some ME time. When you spend two solid weeks with 75 plus other girls.. you start to hate the female sex AND you also begin to realize little things about people that you really, honestly don’t care for. Example: Susie never has anything positive to say. Kelly only talks about her cat and her boyfriend (yuck, I hate cats) and so on and so forth. It’s cool kids.. some people are better with a little alcohol in their system but since you are all are sober as a bunch of Betas at a senior bingo fundraiser, try to get away from the Susies and Kellys for a bit and get out. Get around some girls you really are getting along well with and go for a walk. I seriously had the best walks during recruitment. It was like a coffee date on steroids. Great bonding time….annnnndddd I can just feel the male population clicking out of this link. Sorry boys. This ones for the ladies.

8. Speaking of being negative, stop it right now. No one likes you. I’m serious. The girls who are constantly complaining are seriously like a disease that spreads like bird flu or anthrax. I’m not saying you have to be all Sally Sunshine (seriously don’t.. no one likes her either) but pick up the enthusiasm and get out there. If you start thinking of recruitment as a game show where the object is to find girls who are WINNERS then it’s a lot more fun. Oh, and you could be working in retail and folding t-shirts for 8 hours like myself. Fake it till you make it.


7. Worst case scenario, you have a girl who thinks her Dad is the President of the Universe and would rather eat her own foot than talk to you. THIS IS THE BEST TIME EVER. I am not kidding. There are so many things you can do with this situation:

  • You can tell her everything you had to eat that day.
  • You can challenge her to starring contest.
  • You can tell her that you can tell something is wrong and then try to psycho-analyze her.
  • You can say” wow that outfit must be a popular one.. I have seen 5 other girls wearing it! (guaranteed reaction to this)”
  • You can tell her your (insert fake dead pet) died today and that you don’t really feel like talking either and then act really sad.
  • You can all of a sudden have a fake british accent and see if she notices.
  • You can tell her as she’s leaving a la Dane Cook.. “Hey.. nice to meet you.” and then really quiet and solemn “.. But.. don’t get on the bus though. Trust me.”

Guys, don’t be a victim to a little high school bitch! They’re just awesome stories in disguise.

6. Share absolutely nothing. Lipgloss. Hairbrushes. Hairspray. Water bottles. Do you want to get sick? Do you want to be on your death bed by day three? THEN LISTEN TO ME AND DO NOT SHARE YOUR SHIT WITH ANY ONE. Oh, and don’t pretend to be sick when you really aren’t. We all know you’re faking.

5. Here’s another scenario for you. You meet the perfect girl. She’s fun and cute and intelligent and has a desire to get involved.. yadda yadda yadaa HELLLLLOOOOO RUSH CRUSH! Rush Crushes are a lot like actual crushes in that you need to be very careful with how you approach them if you don’t want to get hurt yourself. If I could count the number of times, I would watch girls get excited about a particular girl and then the very next day be devastated because she doesn’t return (myself included), I would stop folding clothes and start buying them. Two things you need to know about Rush Crushes:

1) Yes, she liked you. It wasn’t anything against you personally. She thought you were fun and great and exciting. BUT there are a lot of factors that go into picking a house. And maybe at the end of the day, your 20 minute conversation wasn’t enough to convince her. DON’T BE DEVASTATED! Because…

2) it doesn’t mean this girl can’t still be your friend. A lot of girls approach the rush crush situation as so: “Ugh. She didn’t pick my house? Why? I thought she liked me? Oh. She picked house ABC? Screw that. Total bitch.”

DO NOT DO THIS. Let me tell you a little story. Last year, as a senior, I still fell victim to a rush crush. Hi, Sierra.

This girl came all the way through preference round and I was almost positive I had her convinced. In the end? She chose a different house. It was a little sad but as a senior I realized that I liked her enough through our conversations that we could be friends beyond the insanity of rush week. Guess what girls? WERE STILL FRIENDS! Good friends. Go out to eat sushi and drink too much on dollar night friends. This can happen for you too! So please, for the love of god, don’t let your house define your friends. Don’t let your age define if you can hang out with a girl you genuinally liked! And remember, just because your first rush crush didn’t come back.. just like any other crush, there are many more fish in the sea. Approach every conversation like you are on the verge of meeting your new best friend and you will survive. Who knows? Maybe you will meet your best friend. Hi, Laura.

4. Do something crazy everyday. Maybe crazy for you is eating fruit loops instead of cheerios. There are varying degrees of crazy here. The point is the break up the monotony. If you do something that’s out of the ordinary it will remind you that this week is far from normal either. In essence, your crazy act will bring you back to reality. It’s backwards logic but it works. So break out in a disney song. Jump in Chi-O fountain. Get a little silly for your own sanity’s sake.

Stephanie, meet the King.

3. Be a shoulder. Not everyone’s thing is recruitment week. Some of you are going to nearly die from the process. It’s inevitable. But if you see someone who is about lose it, be there for them.

2. This one is not really a way to get through recruitment but a reminder of all the hard work that goes on behind the scenes. TODAY or TOMORROW or THE NEXT DAY.. thank your recruitment chair and her assistant. Go thank your advisors for the long unpaid hours they are putting in. Go thank your house cook for the food he’s been preparing. BE THANKFUL! There’s a lot of work that goes on that you aren’t even a part of.

  • With that said, on a personal note, Hannah– I know you will/are doing a tremendous job. You were made for this! I think I know sorority passion when I see it and I know this week will be a huge success for you. Remember, take deep breaths. I love you!!!

    Another rush crush making me proud. 🙂

And the number one way to survive recruitment week?

Realize that this will happen for four years of your life and then its over. Forever. Which might seem wonderfully exciting! But look at it this way.. every girl around you that has either become your best friend or is currently your best friend will eventually go off on their own after college. You won’t get to stay up late after recruitment and talk all night and eat junk food. You won’t be able to meet your potential new members and welcome them into your home on Bid day. You won’t be able to get crazy in the basement of each of your collective houses and because YOU ARE SO BORED AND TIRED AND ANNOYED from the most miserable week ever. The truth is, even if its just a little, you might miss where you are right now someday. Look at this as an adventure. It’s an adventure that eventually ends and then you get to go on with the rest of your school year. But it’s an opportunity to make memories and some of the best friends of your life!

Roommates 2010-2011. Four years of recruitment pain and still strong.

So go out there! Go get them! Make a sista proud.

Here’s to recruitment week 2011!

Dove Love…

Can't wait to see this year's babes.


These are a few of my favorite things


I actually have had access to technology for about five days now but I also have been working my can off and haven’t had the energy to really sit down and write something you might actually want to read. 

I am le tired.

So, life on the plaza. It’s ok. As a consolation prize to college, I guess we’re still winning. Dylan and I officially have been in our place about two and a half weeks now. We go through up and downs as post graduates. Somedays, we are kind of excited about the prospect of the rest of our lives! Somedays, we mourn the past four years like a beloved pet that has finally died. And speaking of pets, as domestic partners, Dylan and I have decided we need to adopt an asian baby and a cat. I actually hate cats so I’ll probably also buy a large great dane of which I will train to eventually eat our cat… but these are long-term goals.

Some things on the plaza I have come to enjoy these past two weeks:

– Yogurtini

Has anyone heard my rant on this? THEY LEAVE THE FREE SAMPLE CUPS AT THE FRONT DOOR. They TRUST you to fill your own. How can I accurately convey just how awesome this is?? To anyone who has had to ask to try a sample at 3spoons/orange leaf in Lawrence, you know why this is a legitimate score for frozen yogurt places everywhere. Not to mention– the flavors are new and exciting, they have like 50 more toppings AND (to top it off, no pun intended) it’s cheaper. So you feel better about eating more. It’s obesity at its finest and it makes me happy to know that at least in frozen yogurt terms I have gone from good (in Lawrence) to GREAT (in KC)


Maybe I’m late to the game on this one but this place makes me feel better about post grad life. It’s like the wheel on the plaza. It’s a comfort in times of need. IT’S EXPENSIVE AS SHIT (at least for me. I realize it’s not Vegas but in Vegas I drank for free so I’m not used to going out and spend 8 dollars on a single drink) and so I’m currently looking for a sugar daddy to purchase me my double vodka waters. In return, I will introduce him to the nearest female friend in proximity and then promptly run away to the un-air conditioned bathroom to hide and chug my drink in peace. Ahh, just like freshman year… but in glass cups instead of plastic ( I also include that in the price when I drink them.. free glass cup? Yup, that’s going in my purse as a souvenir.)

Happy hours across the Plaza-

I’m a sucker for a deal. I’m also a sucker for sushi, boulevard wheat beer, appetizers involving hummus and pita and little drinks with cherries and pretty straws in them. These are all provided at happy hours all along the Plaza. Coincidently… this makes me extremely happy.

Running in KC-

IS SOOO SOO SOOOOO much better than running in Lawrence. I can’t even explain. I don’t worry about a pothole the size of Georgia being in my path.. hell, there is actually paths to run on here. I can run by the river, I can run in pretty parks that have statues and fountains, I can run by KU med and feel like a little bit of KU is still near me, I can run by the stores and look at displays of things I want to buy 🙂 I can run in pretty neighborhoods where MTV cribs should be filmed.. etc. etc. I love it. It’s life-changing. The only problem is night running, which I typically really enjoy but I have watched entirely too much Law and Order SVU to run in the parks at night, because I am afraid of being attacked by drunk homeless men. Granted, if they are drunk, they are probably easily avoidable but no one ever said this was a rational fear. It has greatly improved my running time though.

There are other things. I like Latte Land because it’s right next to Anthropologie and I go there because the Barista thinks I am cute and sometimes gives me free scones. Or maybe he just pities me because when I go in there I desperately need caffeine and look like death. I think it’s the cute thing though.

Also Gouda Fries (of which Dylan is creepily obsessed with and talks about basically everyday) at Blanc Burger but that’s also because of an awkward story with the Bartender who is now our slave and also gives us free shit. (Like shots at 1 AM on a Friday. We must maintain this relationship as long as possible because we really like fries, cheese and free shots.)

I like that I can walk to Commerce bank, that I no longer live next door to drunk frat boys that throw shit through my windows, that I don’t have to wear shoes in my kitchen because the floors are so gross, that I could totally walk around my apartment naked if I wanted to (which I don’t actually really want to, but I like that it’s an option), that I live next door to a blind lady that tells me I smell pretty (which I think is sweet. Because I feel like it’s usually after I come home from working at the Hawk and smell of Jager) but mostly I like that each day, every day is really a chance to try something new. 

Stay tuned tomorrow for a special addition of TOP TEN TUESDAY. This weeks theme is in honor of my beloved sisters (specifically Hannah Villa– as promised) … (because I am proud of all the hard work I know you ladies are putting in and I can’t wait to see you all shine like pretty pennies at Mock!)

Oh and happy belated birthday Nicole Lane. 22 looks good on you. (a much deserved and highly coveted shout-out just for you)


An interim post for my interim step in life

So I am writing this at the Panera on the Plaza in Kansas City, which is really nice for a few reasons. First of all, I have found that a lot of the staff sing behind the counter, which I obviously enjoy, and they have pretty good voices. I would love to sing a long, especially during the Bruno Mars solos (Just the Way You Are, NOT Grenade..which no one likes. Not even Bruno.) but I feel like we need more time together before I bust out some solo chords. I also really enjoy the smoothies they make here, which I am sure they make everywhere, but here I feel like they add a special ingredient of love. or maybe sugar. Sugar and love are occasionally synonymous.

The reason I have been spending so much time at this particular Panera is because my apartment has no cable and no internet. It’s a bleak lifestyle but it’s encouraged me to leave the house when Dylan is at her full-time big girl job and I am wallowing in my post-grad depression and semi-unemployment status. Currently that’s transferring into being a real housewife of Kansas City, minus the fact that I am not married and not really that dramatic and I have no friends to enjoy this lifestyle with me, not to mention I am poor and can afford nothing. Though I did buy a flower pot the other day. It is blue.

I'm artistic

ANYWAY, I know you all have been DYING to know what I have been doing recently so I think it’s time for some nice little bullet points.

  • I have a job! Ok, a part-time job. Which isn’t that bad. It’s down the street from where I live and It’s not like a lifetime career goal or anything but I like the people I work with and you can’t beat that two minute commute. Plus, every walk to work and back I average about 2.5 cat-calls. Which is like a confidence boost twice a day. Which is kind of nice. Even when the people whistling are usually creepy and fat and old. Anyway, in the meantime, I continue to search for something that will put my college diploma to use. We will be broke.. but fabulous.
  • Our new place is, for lack of better words, AMAZING. I mean, it’s nothing special. But it’s perfect for us. Right off of the plaza and the perfect size and once we fix it up I really just feel like maybe I could call it home. Which is a big step but I think with proper weekly counseling I can get over Lawrence and be comfortable here. I also met our cleaning lady. Her name is Sonia. She’s SO FAR my only friend in the apartment complex. I sense we will become close.
  • I ran 4 miles in 32 minutes yesterday! This is huge for me because a) it’s 10,000 degrees out b) I have not ran in 4 days (whoops, I was moving sorrrry) and c) I usually run a solid 8:45 min mile. Honestly, it may have been because I was running up by KU med and I had no idea where I was and I kept having to run through crowds of students and I was just showing off. It happens. Maybe I should run up there everyday with that time. Hellllllllo med students! (the boys obviously, not the girls.)
  • I miss my friends. I want them all to come back and we can just kick out all the tenants at our place and pretend we live in the dorms again. I think this is a phenomenal idea. I also am realistic and know that change is good! This is exciting! But it’s still a little sad and I miss you all.
As a final note, I would like to thank you all for all your kind comments on my last post. I am sorry for making about 87 percent of you cry, I promise this was never my intention but I would be lying if I said I didn’t cry a little writing it so I appreciate that you got to feel what I also did. Were all in this together right?
So friends, until I get internet in my place, it’s looking like Panera on the Plaza is the SPOT to POP to. I promise to write a top ten list in the near future. OH! And tonight I am going to a place called Brooksider which has DOLLAR NIGHT on Thursdays.
Yes Virginia, there is life after college…
Peace, Love (sugar) and Panera Bread–
UPDATE: Apparently, Panera has a time-limit on their free internet access. Assholes.
The party is now taking place at the Plaza Barnes and Noble.