PITA spelled backwards is A TIP

Picture this: A bright-eyed 18 year old girl, sitting in a big auditorium in the middle of campus learning the Greek alphabet. This mid-western girl was wearing her cutest Old Navy shorts and tee and looked into a sea of blonde hair and beach tans wondering what sorority she would join and hoping to make at least one friend in the process. As people grouped with their Bright Future friends to discuss their favorite houses, she looked to her only friends (the Pi Chis) for a sense of direction, leaning on them for survival tips in Gainesville.  

• What to wear – Reefs are appropriate for Round 1, but not Rounds 2, 3 or Prefs. Sidebar: Reefs are not the same as Old Navy flip flops.  
• Things to do – If you love Country music then you have to go dancing at :08.  
• Where to eat – Swamp is a great place to go with your family, but for a great sandwich-type spot try Pita Pit.

Ok – you got me. This mid-western girl with no friends was ME! And I listened to anything the ladies in the orange hats told me to do. So that week, I only wore flip flops to Round 1, I went dancing at :08, and I tried Pita Pit.

I had no idea at the time what a difference the week of rush Recruitment would have on my 4 years at UF. I hurried through orientations and chose Advertising as a major, enthusiastically joined Pi Beta Phi and met some nice girls on the bus to the Pink Palace, and had my very first Pita Pit Experience. Since that week, I have considered myself a bit of a Pita Freak Connoisseur. 

A few Pita Pit facts about me:

See? Healthy!

• My freshman year I tried to get a job at Pita Pit as a cashier and made up that I was my class treasurer in efforts to try and impress the potheads that work there.
• I have been to at least 13 different locations (Rankings available upon request). 
• I once asked a friend’s parent to invest in me opening my own franchise location.
• When I studied in Mexico, Pita Pit honey mustard was on my Top 5 list of things I missed.
• I once drove almost 2 hours while hungover to Athens for a pita, only to find they were closed on Sundays.
• I have written a letter of complaint on the Pita Pit website that the Honey Mustard in Chicago is not the “real Pita Pit honey mustard.”
• Despite my feelings on the PPHM in Chicago, I still have drunkenly ordered 2 pitas by myself in order to meet the minimum price for an “out-of-area delivery.”

Ok, this guy is kinda a Baldwin

I know this sounds really sad….wow, this actually sounds REALLY sad, but I think part of the reason I love this place so much is that it takes me back to college. Back to a time where you couldn't afford the Chicken Caesar pita, so you sneakily ordered a Chicken pita and just added Caesar dressing. A time where I can meet my best friends for lunch between classes, or at 3am in the Pi Phi kitchen. It reminds me of sunny days, sleeping in, advertising campaigns and late nights at Gator City. 

But what really changed my life that week was not trying Pita Pit, but actually joining Pi Phi and studying Advertising…they took me from being the girl with no friends in the auditorium, to having some of the best friends in the world. And that trumps a Pita any day.    

You know what goes great with a Pita? BFFs.

...and Go Gators.

The following things have happened since I was last in Gainesville:

• Pam, Chanteal, Mere, Michelle and Prince William have all gotten married.
• Autumn, Baby Thomas and Baby Blue were born, with 2 more IPPL babies on the way.
• I moved to Chicago.
• Bin Laden was found.
• People everywhere were begging to be taught how to "Douggie.”
• There was a remake of the song "We are the World" and the movie "Footloose."
• There has been both a Winter and Summer Olympics.  
• LMFAO party rocked too hard and broke up.
• Crazy Aunts everywhere started drinking Vodka Sodas with a Splash of Cran.
• Urban Meyer resigned...twice.

As you can see, it is clearly time for K Keller to return to the city that gave her that nickname. The trip will be quick, but I plan on fitting as many of the following into my trip, if possible, in no particular order:

Break into the Pi Phi House, Eat Chicken Nachos from Ale House, Dance in a booze puddle until I have Grog Feet, Experience the real Pita Pit honey mustard, Mourn the loss of Cluck-U, Lose my voice from screaming “Orange/Blue” in the stadium, Make immature "Cock" jokes and laugh hysterically, Have a bucket of beer at The Swamp, Cry tears of joy when I see the Murph/DeFranco Tailgate, Visit a library just to use the bathroom, Take an inappropriate photo with the Tim Tebow statue, Laugh with my friends until my face hurts, Get asked on a Grab-A-Date.      

Get ready Gainesville – Here. I. Come. 

Noodles and Sauce

WARNING: If you are my friend and have ever lived in Atlanta, you will either love or hate this post. But after buying my recent flight to the ATL, I started feeling a little nostalgic.

Once upon a time there were 4 girls, living in a big city, working in the real world, and learning how to balance work and play. Their names were Carrie, Charlotte, Samantha and Miranda Carrie, Melissa, Kate and Maggie. These classy ladies filled their days with advertising and their nights with cheap booze, dancing at CJ’s, taking $80 cab rides to the middle of nowhere, and overdrafting their bank accounts. Sunday’s existed for early morning conference calls recalling the night’s events, and eating queso from Taco Mac. They played kickball, went boating, and after too much queso, forced themselves to join bootcamp. The definition of Renaissance Women.

   

Note - we had to take this picture of ourselves because we didn't have any other friends. 

 In 2007 things really started to pick up when we added 2 new faces to the group: Enter Jones and my fave roomie, Carreen. The additions brought a few new things to our routine: Sunday Bloody Sundays in our comfies, late nights at Atkins, beer pong and flip cup at 3am, sticky red counters from kool-aid and schnapps mixtures, and Halloween parties with sparse attendance. They were the best of times, they were the worst of times, and above all, they were the blurriest of times.

 

  

   

Members of IPPL came to Atlanta in waves and with them came the VaHi crew and the infamous John Harrison. Throw in John Coggin, Schmelter, a few part time love affairs, fellow NAM coordinators and other groups of co-workers...you've got yourself a great group ATLiens (yes, I said it). Suddenly we had enough players for our own kickball team, and a garage code known by 10% of the Atlanta population. People actually came to our parties!! Proms, Furthdays, Luaus, Easter Brunches, and cookouts on the back patio. Sometimes we were too busy planning the next party that we could barely remember everything that was going on. But no matter where we were or what we were doing, I always loved the company of my friends in Atlanta.

   

Over the years, many of us have left the great city of Atlanta. Atlanta is known for being a transit city, but mostly it was just a city of change. We grew so much throughout the years, and changed more that just our hair (photographic evidence above). For me, it was the city where I really found myself. I learned how to make it in the real world on my own, how to make meals other than just noodles and sauce, the difference between a cab and a cop car, how to bail your friend out of jail, and found a love of white queso. I learned that the Gator Nation really is everywhere, Publix is better than Kroger, gossiping is best over sushi and Crystal Light powder makes a terrible mixer. And mostly, from my friends, I learned what it means to love, forgive, trust and take risks, and I will always remember the four years I spent there to be four of my favorite :) 

"Do Epic Shit" - my fave sign from the race

This weekend was the Chicago Marathon. A few fun facts about the event:

• 45,000 participants from all 50 states and more than 100 countries participated in the 35th annual Bank of America Chicago Marathon. I am a pretty popular gal, so I knew 6 of them.

• Two Ethiopian runners won the marathon. The men’s winner finished in 2 hrs and 4 minutes, and the women’s winner finished in 2 hrs and 22 minutes. As a comparison, they ran 26.2 miles in the time it takes me to watch an episode of SYTYCD.

I went out to cheer on the runners around Mile 7 of the event, and everyone was extremely energetic and excited at that point. High Fives, Whoop Whoops, funny costumes. I held up my signs that said, “Nip Guards Turn Me On” and “Where’s the Floats?” and they got a few laughs. 

When I saw the runners at the end of the race, everyone seemed overwhelmed by what they had accomplished. There was such pride from their friends and families, but more importantly, happiness and joy from the runners. Seeing the excitement on all the faces was really unbelievable and made me want to go accomplish something huge…

But then I remembered that I did the 3-Day walk in August, so I can cross accomplishing something huge off my list. Phew, because I was pretty tired after all that cheering :) 

Congrats to all of the runners!! I truly am so proud of you guys! 

Marathon Pants

Yesterday I bought 2 pairs of pants, 7 shirts and 5 pairs of socks.

Before you judge, I should tell you that I got all of the above for $280, which means with “Carrie’s Law of Averages” that I basically paid $20 for each item. $20 for a pair of Paige designer jeans? I would say that’s a steal.

I admit that I have been on a little bit of a shopping binge these past few weeks. But with the weather getting colder, it just makes me want a fresh wardrobe to walk into fall and say, “What up falling leaves? Like my new boots?” This happens every season. Foreshadow: similar post to come in the Spring about my new wedges.

But every girl knows from watching too many Lifetime movies that with every binge comes a purge, and this week I decided to purge. I am a little bit of a hoarder when it comes to clothes, so I had to start gradually.

I started the purge first with what I like to call “The Camis and Jammies.” The camis were easy. No real attachment to those little guys. But the jammies were a different story. Can I just say that getting rid of t-shirts is more difficult than you would think…Remember that time I played kickball? Rode the rail? Ran a marathon (ok, a 5K)? There is a t-shirt for that. Taco Mac Passport Club – no way am I parting with that one. So I resulted in purging a few t-shirts I got for free from random events like concerts and Cubs games. Success. Moving to another segment of comfies – jammie pants. This is where I got a little emotional. I have officially purged my all-time favorite pair of jammie pants that I have had for 8 years. 

M-Co, I know these are your favorite. 
NOTE: These pants are not black, as they appear.  

This is the actual color of the pants. 
Annie - I KNOW you remember these.

These pants….sigh…have seen it all. Since Dance Marathon 2005, they have been through my college graduation, Sunday Fundays, vacations, breakups, sleepovers and probably some grocery shopping trips. They have lived in 7 different houses in 4 different cities. They lost their drawstring in year 3 after a dryer mishap, but were quickly brought back to life with a handy black ribbon and a safety pin. I know they look black in the picture, but most of my friends can vouch that they have somewhat of an unknown green color to them now.

After parting with those puppies, the rest was pretty easy. Some work tops, old suits, dresses I never wear, impulse purchases of most anything under $15. My sister, Kim, is moving to Chicago this month and will be starting a new corporate job, so I actually feel really good about being able to pass these things down to her. Everything is still in great condition, but over the years my shoes have gotten higher, which means my pants and skirts have gotten shorter, and so I think my 5’2” sis may have better use for my flood pants.

This 5' x 5' x 2' pile isn't even all of it.

The time has come. The Dance Marathon pants have officially been thrown in the garbage. But I better not hear anybody call them trash. 

Haaaaaave you met Will?

You know those ice breaker games that you pretend to hate, but you secretly stay up at night thinking about what your perfect answers would be? You know – questions like: If you could have any job in the world, what would it be? What are 5 things you can’t live without? If you were stranded on a desert island…you get the point. One question that sometimes comes up is “If you could have one super power, what would it be?” While I have recently decided to broaden my knowledge of super powers, I can say that my answer to this one is always pretty generic. My super power would be Flying, so I could visit my friends in other cities, see the world, blah blah blah. But today, I was thinking about it, and I change my answer.

If I could have one super power, I would like some Will Power. Now, I know that all you physically-fit and budget-conscience readers out there are thinking that this is not an actual “power” and that I didn’t understand the question. Will Power is something you are born with! Not so, or at least not this girl. Let’s look at some recent examples:

• When I woke up this morning, I decided that for breakfast I was going to have egg whites with tomatoes. I actually had a sugary coffee drink and an egg wrap with cheese and some sort of "artichoke spread." For those of you that don't know, "spread" is code for "creamy calories." So my wrap had "artichoke creamy calories" spread all over it. 
• I decided last week I was giving up caffeine. Please see above for recent coffee intake.
• For lunch I scheduled a salad sans dressing – Instead, I just finished a mayo-filled chicken salad sandwich and a delicious oatmeal and chocolate chip cookie.
• I hit snooze on my alarm from 5:20am until 7:20am and missed working out this morning. I also did that yesterday, the day before, last week, last month, and 98% of last year.
• I purchased 2 new pairs of shoes about 10 minutes after posting the facebook status, “Must. Stop. Buying. Shoes.” Those were 2 of 7 pairs of shoes I bought last week.

You get the point. I just was not born with any Will Power. So I guess until someone finds a way to package that up and sell it online with free shipping/free returns, I will just continue on my internal struggle with ol’ WP. And maybe, one day, I will Just. Say. No.