I bought a condo so I wouldn't have to shovel

Dear City of Minneapolis,

Please buy a plow. Or at least a shovel.

Smooches,

kara

Thin Mints are my favorite

Oh yeah - I still have this thing.

I was perusing MySpace this evening (wow, now there's a line that will really reel in some readers) and decided to see what's going on with people that I went to high school with. Now, I've been out of high school for eight years and I feel as though I've kept in touch with the people that I wanted to keep in touch with. Also, I enjoyed high school and have no ill feelings about it.

So, things that I learned from being a MySpace stalker tonight:

• Apparently, I went to high school with someone named "Prom Headquarters" - awesome.
  
• A majority of people from my high school have children. They all seem very proud of being a single parent. Good for them and their kick-ass tax refund.
  
• A slightly lesser amount of people are married.
  
• Wow, I never realized how many people never left Eau Claire.

I love the advancements in bullet point technology.

Anyways, it just made me realize how much I would stick out at a reunion. Not only am I not named "Prom Headquarters", but I have no children and I'm certainly not married. I can't say I'm particularly interested in either experience, to tell you the truth. In fact, I'm so removed from children that I didn't even realize that it was Girl Scout cookie time. (Well, that was until the Girl Scouts showed up at the gym to peddle their wares - and they were on the other side of a glass wall from where I was doing crunches - every time I came up, I saw the cookies. It was all kinds of awful.)

Most people seem to be surprised by my discomfort around children. Don't get me wrong - I'm glad you have kids. I'm glad. No really, I'm glad. But I can probably count the number of times I've held a baby on one hand. Actually, probably on one finger. I can make conversation with 4-6 year-olds - they're still little and they don't get it when I say "So, did you read that article about those crazy North Koreans?! Can you believe they're breeding huge rabbits for food?" Okay, actually, that might disturb a child. But you get what I'm saying. And the kids under 4 just sort of hang out and I like that. I'm a big fan of hanging out. It's the 6-12 year-olds that I actively avoid. They're old enough that they think they have interesting things to say and as an adult, I am expected to pretend like they are little geniuses. Wrong. I only pretend to be listening when I'm talking with this age group. And while I'm nodding, I'm thinking about how I can leave the room without looking like a jerk.

So, this post didn't fit in with my recent Adventures in Consumerism theme, so apologies for that. But I suppose I could throw in a random consumerism-related story. I was at Herberger's on Sunday for Clinique Bonus Days and a saleswoman came up to me and asked if this was my natural hair color. I said "yes" (for those of you about to say "but didn't you have a cellophane treatment like six months ago?", I have this in reply: "yes, but that is all faded by now") and the saleswoman said "I hate you. I'm so jealous. I've always wanted red hair." I didn't know what to say back, so I thanked her.

I Agree

An excerpt from an email I got from my mom this morning:

"I am wearing black today in support of the students who don't get flowers today. I wish they would stop selling flowers on Valentine's Day. It seems like the kids that are popular get bunches and other kids get nothing. For some it only reinforces for them that people don't like them."

I love it. And now I know where I get my pessimism regarding Valentine's Day.

And I Expect It To Be Spent Wisely

I go to Lunds almost every night for dinner. Yeah, I could save money by making dinner for myself at home, but I'm usually way too tired by the time I get home to be thinking about cooking. Unless it's heating up a Lean Cuisine. I'm very good at that.

Anyways, I think I have now achieved "regular" status at Lunds. The checkout girl tonight asked me if I had gotten the haircut I had talked to her about last night. (She said she liked my hair, I said that she made my day and I was considering getting it cut.) And she acted like she knew me. Actually, she probably has a pretty firm grasp on how to be my friend - she knows that I'm a sucker for flattery, she knows that I spend alot of time thinking about getting a haircut and she knows that I like Lunds salads. And she knows that I talk to strangers.

My Valentine's Day present to myself was to have my taxes done by a professional. I get alot of joy out of getting my taxes done or doing my taxes. I'm not sure why. Regardless, I owe the government six dollars.

Another Adventure in Consumerism

To know me is to know my love for my TiVo. I have spent three hours today tending to my TiVo, yet it still spurns my efforts to fix the problem at hand (only one day of programming left! aaahhh!).

I go to Best Buy to purchase one of the TiVo-compatible wired network adapters. Of course, they only have one off of the entire list and it costs $50. Fine, whatever, as long as I can record How I Met Your Mother tomorrow night. Some dude that works at Best Buy comes over to ask me if I need anything and I ask him if that's the only wired network adapter they carry for TiVo. He says yes and that they highly recommend that adapter. Of course you do, it's $50. Anyways, I buy it. And a Pixies cd.

So I get home, make myself a cup of tea and get to fixing the TiVo. I hook up the adapter and it keeps telling me something about a DHCP server or something. Whatever. I call TiVo. It goes something like this:

Me: Hi, I bought a wired Linksys network adapter - model USB200M - this afternoon and my TiVo is giving me a message re: a DHCP server.
Him: Okay, ma'am (very not cool to call me "ma'am", by the way), do you have it hooked up to your wireless router?
Me: No.
Him: (Very snottily) Ma'am, I don't see how you expect this to work if it's not hooked up to your wireless router.
Me: It's a wired adapter. I don't need to hook it into the wireless router for this.
Him: Okay.

Okay, guy, you WORK at TiVo. If I'm telling you how it works, that does not instill confidence. Also, I'm sure he thought I was just some stupid girl who didn't have her TiVo plugged in or something.

Also, Best Buy guy, you suck. This is, by far, the crappiest piece of electronic periphery I have ever purchased in my life. It literally fell apart in my hands. I'm returning it immediately. (Well, not IMMEDIATELY - the store is like 10 minutes away and it's cold out.)

First Installment in Adventures in Consumerism

If I am anything, I'm persuadable. And gullible. But mostly persuadable. Andy suggested that I start a regular feature in this...blog entitled "Adventures in Consumerism." Or maybe he didn't suggest that exact title - I feel like he did. Anyways, I hate bad customer service. I hate it. So I'm going to write in here everytime I receive bad customer service.

I was at the Hope Gospel Mission thrift store in Eau Claire over the weekend. I love that store - I don't care what sort of religious affiliation they have. It's a totally rockin' (yes, rockin') secondhand store. Very clean, very organized. OR SO I THOUGHT.

My friend, Meghan, had mentioned that she was on the market for a bread machine. Lo and behold, the Hope Gospel Mission thrift store had a new-looking bread machine. And it worked! Oh happy day! But it had no price tag. Whatever - it's a secondhand store that helps the homeless. They will surely sell me this bread machine for a reasonable price (similar bread machines were priced around $10.)

I bring it up to the checkout with my other items (Pyrex bowl for $3!) and I see a sign that says "no price tag, no sale, no exceptions." Lame. So I put the bread machine on the counter and tell the snotty churchy-looking lady that it doesn't have a tag. She asks me if I looked on the bottom. Of course I looked there - do I look like a fool?

So she says that she can't sell it to me because there's no tag. This is the Midwest so I decide to be passive aggressive. It's just my nature. I turn to my mom and loudly say "This store helps the homeless, yet they don't want my money to pay for this bread machine. That's a ridiculous policy. I think it's stupid. They should be feel lucky to have someone willing to buy a used bread machine." My mom gives me a dirty look and the churchy-looking lady ignores me. Mission accomplished.

I then bitched the entire ride over to the antique store about the stupid "no tag, no sale" policy. I maintain that it's a stupid policy though - you help the homeless! Sell me the bread machine!

It's like camping

I don't do well when I'm forced to live without the internet. I got home from work on Thursday and saw that the wireless network I had been using was password-protected. Message received, sir. Well played.

Okay, so, I went back to Eau Claire for the weekend and my parents have dial-up, so I obviously wasn't going to use the internet there.

I spent most of yesterday trying to decide if I could live without the internet at home. I sit at a computer for 8 hours a day. I shouldn't be encouraging that in my non-work time. But then I thought of my TiVo. My poor TiVo. Why should it be punished because I'm too poor to afford the internet? It has done nothing wrong. My TiVo has provided me with hours of entertainment and even more hours of me talking about the TiVo. I can't leave it stranded like that.

And let's be realistic. I'm not going to live without the internet. That's like camping. (Note: I do enjoy camping - I just rarely have the chance to do it.) In college, I woke up one Sunday morning and our apartment didn't have any electricity. My friend, Angie, was in town visiting. I basically went into full panic mode - no TV, no radio, no computer and no internet. I was actually packing up some stuff to go sit in my car and listen to the radio when the electricity came back on. Approximately 20 minutes had elapsed. So yeah - I view that incident (or as Angie remembers it - "The Time Kara Flipped Out Over No Electricity") as a "tell" of my character.