That Crap is for the Birds

I have lots of random connections to the romance romeo novelist Nicholas Sparks.

When I was 14, The Notebook came out and my boyfriend at the time took me to see it for our first date. Like everyone else who saw that movie, the whole "If you're a bird, I'm a bird." became "our thing." I remember when I had my wisdom teeth out, he borrowed money from his mom to buy me a pair of Roos, those shoes with the zipper pocket on the side. The shoes didn't fit, so I exchanged them. He told me later he had written "our quote" on a piece of paper and stuck it in the pocket. I still laugh when I think about whoever ended up with those shoes and them finding that piece of paper.

I also have some very special friends who live in the quaint town of New Bern, NC right down the street from Sparks, and they even drove me past his house once.

I'm also a fan of his lovey dovey stuff, so when I heard Sparks was speaking at the SHE Expo in Chattanooga, I thought it would be fun to go and get a book signed. Luckily, so did my friend Sarah, and thanks to the kindness of a friend of a friend, I had my nifty new scooter to help make the adventure easier.

I rolled right up to him on my decked out Hello Kitty scooter and got my book signed.

So what do I say to the man who can bring me to tears with words on a page and writes about the type of love women around the world swoon over? Well based on the picture the TFP snapped, my face said...

"I love your books, but I kind of think they're full of sh*t."

 (Photo cred. to TFP. Sorry, but I'm not paying $5 for this)

What I really said was, "I love your town, New Bern." They had warned us not to strike up conversations, so I tried to resist, but you can't just stand there awkwardly and say nothing. But I'm sure he will forever have ingrained in his mind, the vision of that girl in lovely, riverside Chattanooga on her scooter, and just knowing she had a Sparks worthy love story hidden deep inside. Okay, so now I'm full of it, but a gal can dream!

So there you have it. My meeting with Nicholas Sparks in true Kerri fashion.

“The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it...” ― Nicholas Sparks, At First Sight

not a bird,

scoot

Big Girl Panties

"Put your big girl panties on and deal with it."

That's a phrase that's stuck with me since college. While images of walking around in granny panties was the first thing that came to my mind the first time I read it, this phrase has come in handy for me, especially the past week or so.

Long (really long) story short-I'm unattached and so is my fibula...

Yep. A broken ankle. I'd rather not get into the "why and how" of the previous events, because that's not the point, but there you have it.

I hate crying, but I do it a lot when I'm frustrated. For example, recently the following inconsequential events led me to tears:

1. Seeing the nurse bring crutches in my room. I suddenly realized that I actually broke a bone. I'm not sure why this was Earth shattering, as the break was pretty obvious, but at the time I felt pretty pathetic.

2. Falling/tripping...a lot. I realized that if I'm not graceful on my own two feet, I'm sure as hell not graceful on crutches.

3. Doors shutting in my face because I can't hold them open is the ultimate "screw you."

4. While I've been incredibly blessed to have family and amazing friends (Todd Shirley shoutout!), those late-at-night moments when I was truly alone just kind of sucked.

Bucket Lists and Blue Lights


So as you can see, lots of stupid stuff has just brought on the waterworks lately. Luckily, Sunday night I had my "come to Jesus."

A local news station reported around 10pm that due to some rare solar flare, it was possible that states as far South as Alabama may be able to see the Northern Lights. Considering that's on my bucket list, I figured why not knock it out in my hometown if I could?!

So at 10:30-ish, I grab my crutches and jump in the car....alone. Not really knowing where I could get a great view without having to get out, I decide my best bet is to just head up Lookout Mountain.

Halfway up, I realize how dark it is up there at night (I know - no shit, Sherlock.) I start driving rather slowly, making sure I find the road that heads to Point Park - my first idea for a good view. It's so dark that I miss the right turn, but see it last minute and do that thing where you sort of stop, but realize it's going to require a turn-around. I also realize there's a cop sitting at the stop sign.

Of course, I take off slowly, trying to decide my plan of action, which is immediately screwed when the cop turns and starts to follow me. I've only been pulled over twice in my life, so this quickly made me a nervous wreck.

I try to act cool and decide I'll just drive and act like I know where I'm going, that way I don't seem so shady cruising the fancy neighborhood in my Saturn Ion...surely my bike rack makes me rich and preppy, right? Well, maybe it did, until I ended up driving straight into the parking lot of Rock City. Shit- nowhere to go from here.

I just stopped in the road - lost. Not terribly lost, but obviously lost. Sure as hell, he turns on those dreaded blue lights. Double shit.

He comes to the car, flashlight on, and asks me if I'm lost.

Just imagine this cop's face when I try to explain to him I'm driving up Lookout Mtn. to see the Northern Lights. As the words come out of my mouth, I felt the quick grip in my throat, the one signaling I was about to cry. Cry because I've got a broken ankle, broken heart and I just wanted to see the freaking Northern Lights...in Tennessee...and now I drove my hobbling ass up here alone and got lost...and I realize the whole thing sounds ridiculous.

But suddenly, that quote about pulling on large panties jumped in my head. I knew if I started crying and blubbering about the Northern Lights, this cop was likely to send me on the next bus to Moccasin Bend. So I pulled up my big girl panties, pushed the lump in my throat down and just told him I got turned around in the dark. Sure, he was skeptical of my astrological scavenger hunt at first, but he eventually just pointed me in the right direction and let me be on my way. Whew.

I wrote this whole long thing to say this-  while it was probably crazy to drive up there to get a glimpse of the Northern Lights, it made me realize that alone or not, broke ankle or not, that's life sometimes-and life can be tough (and definitely a hell of a lot tougher than this), but you just have to pull up your big girl panties (or boxer briefs) and deal with it.

Is it okay to have a 60-second-pity party and cry all alone on the couch when shit hits the fan? Oh yeah! But only if you dry it up, swallow your pride and move on.

I never did see the Northern Lights thanks to the clouds blanketing the city, but I'll mark it off the list one day, either alone or with whoever God has picked out for me.

Gimpy K

Down In the Unemployment Line

I don't like for anything in life to sneak up on me. I've rarely ever been surprised in my life, and I like to think I see everything coming, which is why the morning of April 16 wasn't quite as world-shattering as it could have been.

Parking was first. I vividly remember the hell that ensued when my co-workers and I got the email that budget cuts needed to be made and our convenient, free, downtown parking was first to go. I knew that was the first red flag. Then, like a scene out of Office Space, people in suits I had never seen before were walking the halls. Investors. We're in trouble now.

My co-workers will tell you that for the past few months I've been a female Tom Smykowski. I speculated for weeks it was coming and Monday morning the email finally came. A big weekly meeting was postponed, because another "meeting" had to take place. Crap. Here we go. Then, my friend who was the most recently hired came to my desk. She had a call to be in a special meeting at 10 a.m. The tears started about here. Then, my phone rang. I didn't even ask questions when the receptionist told me to be at the mandatory meeting at 10 a.m.- I just started crying.

People tried to assure us that this wasn't it, but as a group of us headed to the meeting it was awkwardly silent, and we all just nodded our heads at each other signifying we knew.

I wish I could say I held it together and didn't ugly cry through the entire meeting, but that would be a lie. This was my first "big girl" job and definitely my first time ever losing a job. I don't even think it was the fact I was being laid off, but more the realization that my months of having a hunch it was going down was finally a reality. Then, the thought of all my bills hit me one by one. And finally, the thought of having to pack a box of my stuff and leave all my friends who were being told as we were laid off that cuts had to be made and we were those cuts.

I find great peace and humor knowing that once my computer was unlocked and some of my co-workers accessed my email, they saw that my final email laughed. They laughed because I knew that after the meeting my computer would be locked up, so my final email included my portfolio, resume and other personal documents that I sent to myself.

Being laid off is an emotional roller coaster. At first I was sad. Then, happy to be free. Then, you get that last paycheck and turned down for the first job you thought you had in the bag and you're just bitter. But each day gets a little better, and luckily, I have a large network of fabulous friends and family who have forwarded on a lot of good leads. I've also found I'm much less reserved when it comes to reaching out to people I don't know just to network.

I know something bigger and better is out there waiting for me. I just have to find it. Until then, I'll camp out in coffee shops with free wi-fi and follow-up on job leads. If you have any, send them my way!

Gratefully yours, K

Ink-Be-Gone

Well friends, time to dust off the old blog and start again. However, life has changed some. I'm not so single these days, which means I'll be writing less about my relationship and more about life along the way or other people's relationship qualms (when they request it.) While I do have a pretty awesome man in my life, I still check "single" on my tax return, so alas—SITLC lives on!

My return blog is nothing too exciting or opinionated like past posts, but instead, a domestic magic trick I heard about and decided to test this weekend.

During the Victoria's Secret Semi-Annual Sale, I snagged an awesome hot pink bra for $20. As I was paying, I noticed the bra had two vicious looking ink stains on them and was totally disheartened. Every woman knows what a deal the Semi-Annual Sale is, but finding more than one of the same item in your size just doesn't happen. The lady in line behind me told me to use hairspray to get the ink out, so I decided I would risk it and try it later.

Fast forward from December to err—February—and I decide to try it!


One of the disappointing ink stains before...




Can of Tresemme' Hairspray I had on hand, which I sprayed directly onto the stain and wiped with a cloth.






And voila! Bye bye ink stain! Hello, awesome ink-free steal! (The hairspray did eventually dry and is unseen.)



Slightly domestically yours,
K