In Which I Am Alive

Ethical dilemma: If I find a pen in a practice room, can I keep it? Or is that stealing? Should I leave it there and hope the owner comes back for it? That's what I'd do with bigger items or money...well, except change. Anything 25 cents or smaller is finders-keepers. Hmm... Well whether or not it's stealing, the fact of the matter is that after the past two days of practicing, I have 5 more pens than I did before.

Those words are the worst. Time to empty the inbox. Delete interactions with beloved friends, witty comments, exciting life updates, affirmations of love and affection. Just hit a button and it'll be like they never existed. I tried to put it off, really I did. Every time I was almost out of room, I would just delete my sent messages instead. I don't need to read what I said, I live with myself. But soon there were 5 messages in my sent and 993 in my inbox. And so I had to do it. I cleared a few less-beloved texts from my saved messages folder and transferred a couple hilarious, inspiring, and loving texts out from the inbox into saved messages. It felt like choosing which of my children could fit in the lifeboat. And then I pressed the button and all those words...all those meanings...were gone. It's ok though. I don't get to save my conversations in real life either.

February 14th. A day that will live in infamy forever...I mean...something...yeah.... At this point you're probably asking, "Karissa, what is this infamous day to which you refer?" Try and guess. "Oh, it's Lupercalia, the Roman fertility festival?" Indeed it is, but guess again. "Are you referring to St. Valentine's Day, the saints' day rife with fabricated legends about forbidden love?" Closer. "Oh, wait! I know this! You couldn't possibly mean....Singles Awareness Day?" Good job, reader. I have long made a point of broadcasting my scorn for this Hallmark Holiday. Tacky cards, obligatory candy, swooney girls, makey-outey couples...blegghhh...it's like everything I hate combined into one day. But....dagnabbit...there's this secret part of me that likes and appreciates it. Nothing like a little love, right? It all started when I was 16. In honor of the holiday, my friends and I decided to watch the

Sometimes at work I get reallllllly bored. Here is the product of one such boredom episode. In just one more hour, I'll leave to devour Delicious grilled chicken at home. But till then I'm weary, though I try to look cheery, Manning the checkout alone. It's the slow afternoon times That drive me to force rhymes From my tired and overworked brain. No customers in sight. No task left but to write, Lest boredom drive me insane. I get kinda lonely, being the only one at this register desk. And so if you're seekin' A date for this weekend, Come visit me-I'll say Heck yes!

Doppelganger week. What is it, may you ask? As far as I can tell from my observations, doppelganger week is a week for people to pretend that they are as attractive as someone who pretty much gets paid to be attractive. Doppelganger week is a week for us a society to feed our absurd, and frankly, unhealthy, obsession with celebrities. The actual event seems to consist of individuals changing their profile picture to that of a celebrity they wish they looked like...I mean...a celebrity who they look a lot like...twins, really. It is a week for insecurities to come out in the form of compliment-fishing: "So..this is my doppelganger...recently rated as one of the most beautiful females on earth...I'm not that pretty (I have to say that so I look humble)...but...what do you think? No really...what do you think? (Please don't tell me what you really think, just stroke my ego for a second...yep, right there..ah that hit the spot!)" Or even better, "Here are 5 gor