i've got sass and i've got class

When I was 7 I had a friend named Sheavon. She was an only child and lived next door. Sheavon had all the latest designer toys, a plentiful stash of Bubble Yum and when the remake of Homeward Bound came out her parents bought her a kitten and named it "Sassy." She was popular amongst the 10-year-old boys and started the fashion trend of wearing Chicago Bulls jerseys with jeans.

Yes, we ALL had a friend like Sheavon growing up. While the specific details of our friend "Sheavon" vary, they all had one particular trait in common. Sheavon was a total bitch.

Sheavon was the one who decided what and where we would play. If you presented an idea she found at all boring she would roll her eyes, cross her arms and walk away. She once said that my wardrobe was that of a kindergarteners and my glasses made me look like a total dork. While these statements were accurate -

(Case in point)

- it is not proper etiquette to deliver them so crassly. So, you may ask, "Karen, why did you continue to stay friends with Sheavon after she repeatedly made fun of the lovely clothing options your mother chose for you and winning ideas for Star Search material?" The same reason we ALL stayed friends with "Sheavon."

Her material possessions.

Stop judging. You know you did it too. You're telling me that you didn't INSTANTLY befriend the mouth breathing, spike haired boy who wore shirts that read, "Your fly is open" and overused the word, "DOI!" in lunchroom conversations when he was the first one on the block to get a Super Nintendo. Told you.

Let's fast forward a bit to my 8th birthday. It had a "Ladies Who Lunch" type of theme. My dad and brother dressed in their finest suits and served After Eight thin mints to us "ladies" who were draped in our mother's Sunday best from the 80's. It was some classy fun. The friends I had invited to my soiree were very vocal with their opinions of Sheavon. If Sheavon came, they would not. I had to make a rather difficult decision as a newly turned 8-year-old and chose to not invite Sheavon as to please my less supercilious friends. My mom warned me that it was highly possible for Sheavon to find out about this party, her being the next door neighbor, and that if a problem arose I would have to solve it on my own. I quickly shoed Mom away and said there would be no problem.

Here is a photograph from the day. Sheavons house is in the background.

About 5 minutes after this picture was taken, Sheavon and her mom came out of the house and began walking across the street. I immediately began freaking out and ran inside to tell my mom the news. There was no disguising the birthday party that was obviously taking over the Bray household. Balloons and banners celebrating my birth littered the front lawn and porch.

I stood in front of my mom, pleading her to take care of this situation. She shook her head "no" and said I had to take care of it myself. Giving in to my cowardly tendencies, I stayed inside to watch my best friend, Katie, tell Sheavon that I thought she was out of town and it was a simple mistake. Katie was an amazing friend and always had my back. I owed her big for this one. After a few minutes of convincing, Sheavon and her mom went back home and the party commenced.

The next day, Mom made me go over to Sheavons to apologize for not inviting her. I hated every minute of it. I stuck with the original lie that I thought she was out of town. She could never know the truth that I maliciously took her off the guest list. She had a new vanity I wanted to play with.

If there was one thing I learned from that day it was the ability to lie directly to someone's face. A talent that has certainly proved it's value multiple times within my career choice. My 8th birthday party was nothing short of a precursor for what trials I would be faced with in adulthood.

i cannot be held accountable for what i say at night

Listen to this 80's throwback to make your experience more enjoyable:

I was 8-years-old when my parents realized I talked in my sleep. Merideth and I shared a room at the time and Mom was tucking Mer in for bed. I was already asleep. Tomorrow was the first day of 3rd grade and apparently I was stressed. I have no recollection of this event but my mom tells me I started rambling about being nervous and having to go to the school cafeteria if it rains but I didn't know where the school cafeteria was located. I discussed my concerns with both Mom and Mer for about 10 minutes. The next morning, Mom asked if I was still worried about finding the cafeteria and I had no idea what she was talking about.

I had frequent episodes of somniloquy growing up and it was a common complaint amongst my siblings when we had to share a room. Occasionally, they would find it amusing when they would attempt to get me to confess who my boy crushes were or other secrets they were curious about. Then make fun of me the next day. Once my older sisters left the house and I had my own room there was no longer any evidence of my syndrome.

Until I went off to college.

Thank goodness I had an amazing roommate freshman year. I had prepped her on the slight chance I might talk in my sleep if there was activity going on in the room after I had fallen asleep. She thought it was awesome and couldn't wait for the opportunity to experience this firsthand.

- This particular episode is from her perspective. I don't remember a single thing.

One night I had been asleep for maybe an hour and she was still doing laundry so we kept on one of the dimmer lights. She opened the door, walked into the room and I immediately sat up. Apparently, "Scaring the shit out of her."

"BEA! Turn off the lights our contacts glow in the dark!" I said staring right at her and pointing rapidly to the side of my head.

"Whaaaaaat?" Bea replied hesitantly.

"Trust me! Turn OFF the lights and our contacts are going to GLOW!"

"Karen, I don't think they will do that."

"Bea, will you listen to me. It will be so cool. Just TURN OFF THE LIGHTS!" (I can only imagine how freaked out she must have been)

"Karrrrreeennnn.....I think you're talking in your sleep."

Bea recalls the next moment as the most amazing: I stopped talking. Looked to the left. Looked to the right. Looked at her confused. Then laid down and went back to sleep.

I am unable to recall anything from this night. It just reminds me what a freak-a-zoid I can be. Luckily, Bea thought it was the funniest thing that happened the whole year.

Occasionally, I am able to recognize when I'm talking in my sleep. Once I realize what's going on I'll say, "Forget it, I'm talking in my sleep." The majority of the time I'm saying something illogical or some promise I can't keep. I suddenly become embarrassed and want to rectify the situation.

Naturally, I have done research on this and here are a few things I found interesting:

- Girls talk in their sleep more than boys

- Sleep talking runs in families (Dad has fallen asleep on the couch many times while I am around watching TV and he will mumble)

- About 4% of adults talk in their sleep

I also have incredibly vivid dreams. I can remember at least 2-3 dreams a night. With the large amount of severe sleeping disorders that exist I feel that I am incredibly lucky to have been burdened with occasional sleep talking and excessive dreaming. I used to keep a dream journal in high school. I'll have to search for it while at my parent's house for the holidays. I still write in journals almost every night because I find that it helps with my sleeping and releasing any stress I may have for the day. I recommend it to everyone I know who says they have trouble sleeping.

Okay, so now you all know my nighttime secret. You can make fun of me if you want. I've developed a thick skin. And then I'll just write bad things about you in my journal....

he was the popular boy, i was the girl that watched from afar

My first boyfriend was Brandon. I was ten and in the 5th grade. Brandon had golden blonde hair styled like Zach Morris circa 1990...

...and wore an Atlanta Braves windbreaker. He was the hunk of the school and all the girls wanted a chance to wear that jacket. My chance came in late-September of '94. We were both in Mrs. Miller's class and it was Movie Friday. Brandon and I were sitting next to each other and our classmate, Tiffany was to his right. Tiffany was a straight shooting, know-it-all whose blunt opinions defined her bullying technique. She drew a picture of Brandon and I on top of the Earth holding hands and she said that he and I should "go out." Me, being the epitome of awkwardness, turned bright red and said, "I will if he wants to." Then I used my attractive technique of pushing my glasses up from the tip of my nose by curling my upper lip in an "Elvis" fashion. Since NO ONE ever said "no" to Tiffany, Brandon agreed to be my beau. Back then this included picking me first for kickball teams, waiting for me by the water fountain while I used the lavatory, and letting me wear his Atlanta Braves jacket to let Challenger Elementary know who was his girl.

You all may be thinking, "Wow, Karen. That's a really specific story. You must have a super human strength memory!"

Well, THAT is true but I have another interesting tidbit for you. I found an old diary from my childhood that I am more than willing to share passages from. This is a real treat you guys. Enjoy.

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Sept. 17, 1994

Dear Diary,

Brandon picked me first in kickball today. I feel bad because I think Taylor likes him. And I don't want her to be mad at me for going out with Brandon. Maybe Taylor can go out with Dale so she can have someone to dance with at the dance tomorrow.

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Sept. 19, 1994

Dear Diary,

I told Taylor it would be okay if she danced a song with Brandon. I got to dance with Brandon a lot. We got to dance that one Madonna song I really like. I hope Taylor is not mad at me for going out with Brandon. I will ask her at school.

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Sept. 21, 1994

Dear Diary,

Stupid Grandma called when Brandon was supposed to call and now I won't know if he called. I'll tell him tomorrow. Katie and I played with the kittens today. We made up a dance to Friend Like Me and are going to record it for Star Search.

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Sept. 22, 1994

Dear Diary,

Brandon said he didn't call so I guess it was ok that Grandma called. I was wearing Brandon's jacket in the hall and Jenna asked if we were going out. I think Brandon likes Jenna. I hate Jenna she is a snob. I hope Brandon doesn't like her.

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Sept. 27, 1994

Dear Diary,

Brandon and I broke up today. He asked if I wanted to break up and I said sure. But that's okay because Jerry asked me out. I don't really like Jerry that much. He said he loves me. I will probably break up with him.

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Wow. If dating now was only that easy.

you look....different today.

Guys. Can we please talk about AMC's newest series, The Walking Dead? There are three things that scare me.

1. Tornados

2. Clown dolls

3. A zombie apocalypse

The fast growing fad of zombies is excitedly overwhelming and it's nice to have all these movies/tv shows/comic-books/board games as "How To" guides if things should ever turn from being fictional.

We are only into the second episode of The Walking Dead and I'm already hooked. Having Andrew Lincoln play the heroic police officer, Rick Grimes doesn't hurt either....

There are only 6 episodes of this comic-book adaptation. Catch it while it's hot and fresh! If you are having a "Walking Dead" viewing party I'll certainly attend....I'll bring snacks.

Things I've Learned NOT To Do In The Event Of A Zombie Apocalypse But Seemed Like a Good Idea in 2003

1. Go to the closest Wal-Mart. Sure, the endless supply of food, DVD entertainment and amazing roll back prices sounds enticing but zombies APPARENTLY return to places they used to frequent while alive. Since Wal-Mart is always crowded, even at 2am with parents and their five screams toddlers, it's only a matter of time the place is flooded with flesh cravers.

2. Use a shot gun. Noise attracts zombies. Who knew? Use an ax.

3. Make friends with animal lovers. Ugh, they will find some abandoned dog on the street, name it and give it a say in any of the final decisions for survival. The dog will run away at some point because it was smart enough to sense danger and the animal lover will want to go after it resulting in your group being left behind when the rescue helicopter comes.

4. Don't fall in love with the jerk. I know they seem romantically dangerous and the rebel is always the most attractive in almost any kind of situation but he will risk your life over his and you'll regret having slept with him. Don't be an actual Slutty Zombie Apocalypse Victim. Save it for Halloween.

5. Live in New York City. Like any major city there are pros and cons. In the event of a zombie apocalypse, living in the tri-state area would be a major con. Massive population = massive zombies. I would be super sad to see my bodega guy turn into a zombie. But I know not to get sentimental. Zombie bodega guy would not give me a free coffee. He'd give me a free bite to the brain.

Well, that's all I have to share today kiddos. OH! Except that Conan premieres tonight! Finally, a natural order has been restored.

Here is a Cranberries megahit....

i can name that intro in....3 notes

Today I babysat two of my most favorite people in the world. Emma (11) and Carla (7). I could hang with these girls all day. They are raised in your typical Upper East Side high-rise apartment and attend an all girls private school. However, they do not possess a single quality of your typical child raised in these conditions. For Halloween Emma is going to be a goth-fairy and Carla is dressing as a nerd. I hope their parents know how awesome they are.

I know I shouldn't pick favorites....but Carla is hilarious. Things Carla said to me today:

1. "You knowwwww....after you're born.....when your vocal cord gets cut?"

Me: "You mean....umbilical cord?"

Carla: "Yeah! Thats it!"

2. "What's a vampires favorite cereal?"........"BLOOD CEREAL"

3. "I wish this sandwich didn't have the cheese in it. I really enjoy the TASTE of things."

4. "Am I driving you crazy?"

Me: "Yes."

Carla: (runs over and hugs me) "I promise I won't ask for anything else."

5. "I don't like peanut butter!"

Me: "Well, then we can't be friends anymore."

Carla: "BECAUSE I DON'T LIKE PEANUT BUTTER?!?!"

6. (Getting out of a crowded elevator) "And you all have a nice day today!"

She should have her own reality show.

Emma and I watched the season finale of Project Runway. Her knowledge of good fashion is refreshing and we were able to carry on lengthy conversations regarding the judges final decisions.

After leaving their apartment I was feeling nostalgic. So, now I share with you some intros to awesome TV shows from when I was a kid.

trip down Halloween lane

I'm babysitting tonight. In a hotel room. With no internet. And the parents aren't coming home for…..::checks clock::….ANOTHER 4 AND A HALF HOURS!?! Ohhh geezzzz, sing out Louiseeeee!!! I'm afraid that if I turn on the television the kiddos will awake from their slumber and want to watch. Which would typically be okay with me, however, as most of us know, 2-year-olds win all arguments and it would be a couple hours of Yo, Gabba Gabba. Never seen/heard of it? Here's a treat for ya….

....okay, I admit, it's catchy...

I went to Target today to buy items for my Halloween costume. I'm being "Twitter" this year. As in, the website, www.Twitter.com. I know….ADORABLE! I'll post pictures after Halloween festivities so you can see how it was done.

As I was purchasing Twitter-like products, I got to thinking….I have never purchased an actual Halloween packaged costume. Ever since I can remember all my costumes were homemade. Mom made our costumes until we were about 12 or 13. Then she said we were too old to trick-or-treat and she didn't want us to be "those kids" that act like hoodlums and run a muck around the neighborhood.

Throughout my childhood years I made the sewing easy on my mom and was either a cheerleader or 50's girl with a poodle skirt. I loved that poodle skirt. One year I got really creative and went as "Secretary Butterfly." Apparently I was very familiar with the woman's status in the insect workplace….

I became a little more inventive in college. Freshman year I had bright red hair, so I decided to go as "Daphne" from Scooby Doo. NOW, keep in mind, the manufactured "Daphne" Halloween costume had not been created yet. I made this one up all by myself. I even had a stuffed Scooby Doo doll with me for the night.

The next year I suggested to my boyfriend at the time we dress as 80's aerobics instructors. Yes. I made an 80's mix tape to put in my walkman and led the party with a routined jazzercise workout.

Another year I was a roller disco girl. At the time it seemed like a good idea but hopping in and out of bars in roller-skates is a whole lot harder than it looks. I don't know how I managed to not break an arm.

The 60's flower child is my go-to. When I have waited until the last minute to find a costume and it is 30 minutes until my friends are meeting up for Halloween festivities, I reach into my closet and pull out my vintage 60's dress. This treasure has saved me on many occasions. I then use some makeup to color a flower around my eye…throw some daises in my hair and call it a night.

Picture guide: (1) 2005 pictured with Napoleon and Pedro. (2) 2007 pictured with Bernie (3) 2008 pictured with Sarah

Last year I was a penguin. I painted my nose orange with what I thought was washable face paint. I learned the hard way that it's not a good idea to fall asleep without washing your face. If you don't you'll end up with an orange nose for 3 days.

Okay, kids, you all have a super duper Halloween. Play safe. Party hard. Be creative.

"Back off man, I'm a scientist"

I'm not feeling so stellar today. The landlord turned the heat on in my apartment a few days ago. You ask, "Karen, how is this relevant to your current state of health?" Well, the knob to the radiator is broken and that prohibits me from turning the heat down or more importantly, OFF. This creates extremely dry conditions in my bedroom resulting in cold-like symptoms and an unhappy tenant. I like to blame others for bad things that happen to me so I am sending bad vibes to my landlord for being such an idiot and neglecting to make sure my life runs smoothly.

On a positive note, I'm getting "Home Work" completed (tweaking website, updating resumes, watching You Tube, thinking of cleaning the kitchen).

Speaking of the kitchen, I was JUST in there cooking up some mediocre lunch on the stove and came back in here to check my Facebook because it had been over 10 minutes since I looked at it last. APPARENTLY, I left a Dollar Store Tupperware-like container a little too close to the burner and check what happened...

Yeah....I know.....oops. It's been that kind of week. At Dunkin' Donuts the other day I was getting a coffee and donut with the least amount of calories so as to maintain my dignity. As the guy behind the counter handed me my goodies he said, "Thank you, Sir." Nice. Very nice. I already feel like a complete lard for just stepping in here but now YOU go for the double whammy and insult my face. That was a really good donut though. I'll still come back to the double D for more.

Let's address what you're thinking.... Yes, that is The Shining playing in the background of my "Cooking Fail" picture. Another plus to "staying home sick." Did you know the baseball bat scene with Shelley and Jack took 127 takes? It's a world record for most retakes of a single scene with dialogue. Just a little trivia for you. You never know when you might be on Jeopardy.

I hope you watched the Scream Awards. Let's talk about Bill Murray. SPOILER ALERT!! If you haven't seen it and want to watch it...just don't watch the clip.

I have such a crush on him. If he asked me out I would totally go. Seriously.

Things I Like To Imagine Bill Murray Would Say To Me If We Met

1) Your controlled eye twitch is the funniest thing since Space Jam

2) The Marshmallow man was made of real marshmallows

3) I like that you chose to eat at this cheeseburger joint

4) Jurassic Park is my favorite soundtrack, too

5) Let's pick "I'm A Little Bit Country" as our next karaoke duet

6) I put little containers of Ecto-Plazm in my birthday party goodie bags

7) Your NYC Tourist video is in my "Bookmarks"

8) I'm honored you want to name your first born "Tripper Harrison"

9) I can fix your radiator with my bare hands

10) I'm sorry Scrooged scared the hell out of you as a kid, but glad you watch it once a month now.

Alright, that's all I've got. I leave you with a picture of "Snookie." The kitten I played with while I was babysitting last night. Feel free to set it as your background. You're welcome.

"Good one, Dad"

At work today, the subject of my dad somehow came up. I told one funny story about him and suddenly everyone wanted to hear more....and I wanted to share more.

For those of you who have never met my dad you may assume he is a terrifying, lie detecting, retired Air Force Colonel who would pummel any guy who ever hurt one of his daughters. To us Bray kids, he is a witty, sarcastic brainiac who could deliver a quip so brilliant you'd be telling the story for years.

This one's about my Dad and some of the memorable things he has said or done.

**NOTE**

Please know that my Dad always says his words with love and the understanding that we kids know how to take a joke.

Enjoy.

1) When I was 12 I saw the movie Poltergeist for the first time at a friends slumber party. At this point in my life my biggest fears were talking to boys, algebra, and evil ghosts who could potentially pull you into the their realm. I came home from this party terrified. I sat down in the living room with my parents and shared my frightened reviews of this movie while inquiring how probable it was for a poltergeist to exist in our home. After 20 minutes of my mom soothingly explaining that my suspicions were unnecessary, I went upstairs to my room. About 10 minutes later I heard my dad call my name to come back down to the living room. I walked into the room to find all the pictures and mirrors on the walls upside down. My dad looked at me with fear in his eyes and said,

"KAREN! WHAT DID YOU BRING HOME WITH YOU?"

"DAD! What are you TALKING about!? Did you do this??" I angrily replied.

"Noooooooo! I just left the room for 5 minutes and when I came back all the pictures were upside down! You must have brought a ghost back with you! Stay away from me!!"

I ran to my mom who just stared and shook her head at my dad.

2) Senior year of high school we had the "Flour Baby" project. Students were required to carry around sacks of flour dressed as babies to teach us the difficulties of parenthood. I was blessed with twins. Carrying 2 five and a half pound sacks of flour for 8 hours at school and marching band was hard enough. As soon as I got home I chucked those things on the couch and left them there until the next school day. My dad felt it was his duty to make sure I continued my parental obligations while at home.

"KAAAAAARRRRREN!"

"WHAT?!?" I yelled from my room.

"Get down here and take care of your babies! They are getting into horrible mischief!"

I was not prepared for what I saw next. My boy twin, Dallas, was sitting next to the fireplace holding a balled up newspaper and matches. My girl twin, Bailey, had a bottle of wine in her lap with the wine opener. Dad exasperatedly said I was being a horrible mother and said he was going to call child services. I rolled my eyes and went back to room....with a smile.

**ONE LINERS**

3) In high school I attempted to do some modeling thing for the base BX/PX. When I got home, Dad asked how it went. I jokingly said that the agents told me I was too ugly to ever make it in the modeling industry. Dad looked confused for a few seconds then stated,

"But there are ugly models."

4) A few years ago after Easter Mass, the family was heading to brunch. I had asked my mom if we would be able to get mimosas. Sarah, my sister, inquired about Bloody Mary's. Dad announced it wouldn't be very "churchly" to get drunk right after Easter Mass. Sarah said it would be okay because Jesus turned water into wine. Dad's reply?

"Yeah. But he didn't suddenly turned everything into tequila shots and tell everyone to party!"

5) The family was in Vegas enjoying an unlimited buffet. Dad had wandered off and it was time to go. When we found him he rushed up to me saying he had something really cool to show me. Excitedly, I followed wondering what it could be. He placed me in front of a mirror saying that the most beautiful person in the whole world is in there. I looked forward expecting him to say, "There she is!" What did he say?

"Ugh! You scared him away!"

6) I was visiting home a couple years ago and walked into the kitchen to find my phone. I had noticed I missed quite a few calls. Unknowingly of anyone's presence, I exclaimed, "Holy crap! That's a lotta missed calls!" Dad heard and said "crap" was not an appropriate word. I apologized. He continued,

"And further more, you shouldn't say 'Holy' in front of it either. Now when you get to Saint Peter's gates he's going to say, 'Holy crap! What the hell are you doing here!"

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My Dad's sense of humor is unique and it's just one of his many admirable traits. His ability to tell a story and engage an audience is a talent many strive to have. After my Maid of Honor speech at my sister's wedding this past Spring, my Aunt (Dad's sister) told me that my story-telling style is just like my Dad's. That is one of the best compliments I have ever received.

I have so many more stories I could tell you and we'd be here all day....and I wouldn't mind. I always look forward to going to my parents house and coming back with another "Dad story." If you're lucky you'll get the opportunity to hear another one someday.

it really is the thought that counts

Every birthday we celebrated in my family my Dad always made us a card. A homemade card. A card built from construction paper and God-given creativity. It always included some joke or referenced that year's current obsession one of us kids had. We always anxiously awaited the birthday card, even when it wasn't our own birthday. The card would be passed around the six of us and we would laugh and congratulate my Dad on another well-done form of artistry and cleverness. At a young age, my Dad taught us Bray's the value of a thoughtful gift.

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On my 4th birthday.....

...I had a Sesame Street sheet cake and I remember playing with a doll whose hair would grow then magically become short again when you cranked her arm. The doll was not a birthday gift. I was playing with it in my room to keep me occupied while the living room was being decorated before I opened presents. Presents. I couldn't tell you a SINGLE thing that I unwrapped that year. What DO I remember receiving? My oldest sister, Merideth, took a white poster board and covered the whole thing in multicolored star stickers.

Reference:

Merideth proudly pranced into the living room carrying this poster board half her size. It read, "HAPPY 4TH BIRTHDAY KAREN!!" There was a candy necklace taped to it as well.

It. Was. The. Coolest.

I've been distracted by glistening things my whole life. This moment may have been the starting point. I wish I had the picture with Merideth, me and my favorite gift that birthday. (Mom, if you're reading and you know where it is, scan and e-mail it??) The star-covered poster board is the first gift I can honestly say I remember receiving and being struck with awe.

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Like most children born in the 80's, I was Barbie obsessed. Multiply the obsession by 3 and you have Barbie Bray Dream House. My sister right above me, Sarah, was the go-to Barbie player. This girl had a multitude of Barbie accents and story ideas. One minute we were cruising in the red convertible on our way to rescue puppies from the animal shelter run by the evil dark-haired Barbie. The next we were beauty contestants demonstrating our talent of jumping really high and doing flips in the air while competing for a date with Ken.

A few days before my 7th birthday, Sarah told me I had to stay up in my room for awhile because she was working on my gift. I could barely sit still. All I knew was that she needed Dad's help and the backyard.

The day of my birthday all I could talk about was opening Sarah's gift. I could care less about any of the other stuff. Just bring me Sarah's present! I tore open the box to find a VHS tape.

Oh. My. Gosh. She made me a MOVIE! Wait. Not just any movie. A homemade BARBIE movie. The voices. The actions. The props. The drama. All created by Sarah. I bragged about it for years.

Whatever. I'm STILL bragging about it. It was awesome.

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My younger brother, Clifton, and I never got along as kids. We had our good days and bad. Back then I could never relate to him being the outsider with 3 older sisters. I know it was rough for him. Clifton and I started to become closer when I went off to college. I would call him occasionally for the male perspective when I was having boyfriend issues and we would chat on IM about what "lame" thing Mom and Dad had grounded him for.

For my college graduation, my whole family flew out to Texas Tech. I received lots of gifts that would prepare me for living on my own and my future as an adult. Clifton, however, framed this picture:

In front of the picture he wrote me a note saying how he knew we were not close as kids but that he was so happy our relationship had grown so much in the past couple of years. He said that he was so proud of me and knew that I would go on to accomplish great things.

I bursted into tears right there.

As Clifton has grown, I see so much of my Dad in him. I see my Dad and Mom in all of us Bray kids. They have always taught us to be thoughtful and conscious of others.

I love that I get excited easily. It's who I am. I will cry if you make me card. I will feel loved if you send me a postcard from Portugal. I will feel cared for if you bring me ice cream when I've been in a car accident. I will feel nurtured if you make me tea when I am sick. I will feel appreciated if you say "thank you." I will feel special if you come to my birthday party in the park.

It's that easy and I'm definitely not alone. Here's to all those who made the thought count.

"can i get yo number?"

Those charming men of Manhattan. Special gems that light up this city. I can always count on you for unwanted catcalls and bug-eyed stares toward my backside. I am on an express train to Heaven with all the "God bless you, Baby"'s I receive a day. Thank you for keeping my confidence soaring whenever I walk down the street in sweatpants with a TECH t-shirt sans make-up and deodorant. One of the best lines I have ever gotten was, "Good Morning, Your Highness." Not bad, not bad. That guy at least got a smile out of me. We all know I would wear a tiara everyday if I was sure it wouldn't get snatched on the subway from some intimidating Bronx teenage girl.

When I first moved to New York I spent a lot of time just wandering the streets shopping. I frequented the Times Square area just because I had no idea where else to go. In my heels and skinny jeans I felt like a native bustling through the streets. A native, however, would never have fallen prey to this homeless man's charm.

"Girrrrrllll, if you were a couple inches taller you could be America's Next Top Model!"

"What?! I'm already in 3 inch heels!" I holler back.

"Yeah, but those girls are tall! But, for serious, you could do it!"

"Thank you!!!"

"Do you got a dollar?" I think I gave him a $5.

The other day I was casually walking down my street doing a little grocery shopping. I didn't look my best, but I was decent enough for public appearances. Random guy shouts, "Heyyyyyy, what's yo name?"

Like most respectable Manhattan women, I ignored him, put on my blue tinted Aviators and hoped my headphones would provide the universal sign of "I don't care to hear what you're saying". His friend, however, was not happy about my rude dismissal.

"Yo UGLY!" He screamed at me.

I kept walking forward thinking this was an innocent mistake and he surely was speaking to someone else.

"HEY! YO...UGLY...!"

Okay, nowwww it's personal. I stopped in my tracks for about 5 seconds and thought about what I should do next. Keep on walking and go home? Eat an entire pizza in self-pity? No. THIS warranted attention.

"Ummm, okay. First of all, definitely NOT ugly! I can look a whole lot hotter than I do right now in this 100 degree weather. Secondly, congratulations on getting a girl to at least talk to you. If you were above 5'4" I'd let you buy me a drink. But I'm actually not sure if you are a 15-year-old or underdeveloped adult."

I then VERY promptly turned around and walked faster than I have in my entire life into the closest Duane Reade where I knew I couldn't be harmed.

This is one of the few disadvantages of living in NYC. I have never experienced this kind of obsessive "hollering" in any other city I've lived in. However, as excessive and irritating as it can get, I know that when I'm having a bad day I can walk down my street and find some guy that will, without a doubt, have something positive to say about my ass.

I just do this until my next gig.....

"Oh, well, the summer is typically slow."

This is what I have been hearing from so many artists recently and it's what I mutter when the uninformed person asks me what movie or Broadway show I will be performing in next.

::QUICK TANGENT::

If you know an actor do not ask them, "Are you famous yet?" We hate it. And we hate you a little for bringing it up. It may seem natural but it's a huge blow to our egos. It's the equivalent of asking a businessperson, "Are you CEO yet?", a teacher, "Are you Superintendent yet?", or a doctor, "Have you cured Alzheimer's yet?" Yes, it's extreme but trust me, the comparison of feeling defeated is the same.

::BACK TO FUN AND GAMES::

And it's true. The summer IS slow when it comes to auditions, filming and whatnot. You may ask, "Well, Karen, what is it that you DO for income during the summer months? Wait tables? Perform monologues on the streets? Sell water for $5 a bottle in Times Square?"

Glad you asked. I'd be HAPPY to share with you the random jobs I have been placed with this summer to support my lavish lifestyle. Oh, and get excited....pictures included.

As you may remember, I work for a convention staffing agency. It was the annual Book Fair and a client of ours requested two young female actors to play characters in a recently published children's book, "Bink and Gollie." When my boss offered the job I enthusiastically accepted with the expectation I would be entertaining little kids and signing autographs like the local celeb I am.

I was the tall and lanky, Gollie. The other girl, respectively, was Bink. We arrived at our assigned station promptly at 8am ready to entertain book lovers of all shapes and sizes. Sadly, none of those were child size. To our surprise no children were admitted into the expo. We were handed bags of Swedish fish to pass out to buyers/publishers/bookstore owners. No where in the book, "Bink and Gollie" does it mention Swedish fish so you can imagine our confusion when we were given this task. Regardless, we put on smiles and walked around the trade floor shouting, "BINK AND GOLLIE SWEDISH FISH! COME AND GET THEM! THEY'RE FREE!!"

We. Were. A. Hit! So adorable in fact that a client for ComicCon asked our boss if he could hire us to dress up as comic book characters for his booth. Of course. Not a bad gig for only 3 hours of work. Plus we got to stock up on free books. Next job.

A friend of mine since high school, Ashley, works for an athletic apparel company. They sell your top of the line clothing for serious athletes. Ashley calls me one day and asks if I'll be a promo model for the NYC Triathlon.

"All you have to do is get people to sign up for a raffle." Ashley explained. "So easy and great money......ohandyouhavetowearlycra."

Lycra? My hesitation was...minimal. I could work out hard for a week and get in Lycra-wear shape. I accepted the job.

Please see photo.

Holy Lycra Batman! Let's get this straight. Never in my life have I worn Lycra shorts. I'm mean...I looked really cool but I have no intention on making this an everyday affair. The other "model" that was hired was the peppiest thing I have ever met. I have never seen a person this happy about life that wasn't taking drugs. Seriously. The length of her hair reached her lower back and she continuously flipped it in my direction causing it to slap me in the face. She would chase down people to get them to sign up for the raffle which gave away $500 worth of apparel. (That reminds me, I forgot to sign up. Shoot.) This job was three, 8 hour days. When the other employees asked if I would be back I firmly but politely replied with a "no."

A good thing, however, that came from this job was my motivation to train for races. After talking to the triathlon contestants I decided that I am royally lazy and there is no excuse why I shouldn't be participating in these events. Stop shaking your head in disbelief. I'm in my second week of training. Next job.

Tia was working a promotional event and really wanted a friend to work with her. It would only be two hours. In and out.

"Sooooo, what's the deal?" I asked.

"Welllllll, it's a Jersey Shore CD release party. And the client is Goodburger and they want girls to pass out mini-burgers. We would have to wear black shorts and they will give us T-shirts and hats to wear."

I have a small crush on Paulie D. Sure, I'll go.

The venue for this party is a huge club. We meet the Goodburger clients and head up to the office to change and get ready to pass out these burgers. Oops. Goodburger forgot our t-shirts and hats at the store. They send someone to go back and get them. However, we have hot mini-burgers that need to be passed out. Wait, what are these! There are gold bikini tops in the office that the bartenders of the club wear! Extra ones you say?

"Girls, why don't you just put these on for a little bit until the shirts arrive?" Goodburger client asks.

Sure. My shame flew out the window when I accepted this job. (I'm not providing you pictures of the gold bikini. You get Tia and I enjoying one of the burgers).

Onto the dance floor we go carrying trays of burgers and onion rings. Who doesn't love girls passing around free food when your drunk? Oh! I'll tell you....the cast of Jersey Shore. (And Lil' John/Wayne/Rapper (?) who was also at this soiree) One of the guy cast members walked past me and stared at my tray for a good 15 seconds, I assume debating whether or not to eat one. I told him he needed to think faster and walked away.

My complaints about the job are trivial. It was actually a lot of fun. Tia and I were able to get rid of the food quickly then join the party.

I think back to how unhappy I was having a 9-5 desk job. I would have breakdowns regularly because there was so little excitement and variety in my life. I meet new people from all over the world everyday. I learn new things everyday. It's fantastic.

Recently, I got more steady job that is actually in my field. Very grateful. The oddball jobs are still out there and I'm sure I'll fall into another one. How could I not? They make my life more interesting.

mom! the meatloaf!

This past month I babysat an 11 and 7-year-old. Both are incredible kids and will go on to do even more incredible things with their lives. I think about what they are accomplishing now and I suddenly feel royally insignificant. Eh, despite the fact they are already trilingual and more advanced at math than me, they were the most down to earth and personable set of siblings I have ever had the pleasure of babysitting. My first day watching them, I sat with the 7-year-old, Yuri. He immediately asked a flood of questions to get to know me better and check my credibility.

"So, what is your job?" was his first question.

"Well, I'm an actor." I felt I had to answer this with as much confidence as possible so as to not come off as a flaky wannabe. I could already tell this kid had good intuition.

"And do you live by yourself?" Whenever he asked a new question he would remove his hand from his chin and place his arm out, palm open to me as if he were a psychiatrist attempting to expose some hidden memory that I had repressed.

"I have two roommates."

He squinted his eyes.

"So, you do not live with your mom?"

"Right."

Yuri sat back, crossed his arms and shook his head.

"That is so cool. You LIVE here, have a job, and DON'T live with your mom! I can't wait to grow up. That is so cool."

At that moment I knew I was an instant hit with him and continued to brag about my awesome life as an unemployed actor living with two guys eating ramen every other night in an un-air conditioned apartment and how I did NOT live my mom.

Looking at my life through a 7-year-olds point of view was refreshing. I know I occasionally joke about the 180 degree career move I made a year ago and how I suddenly became the "starving artist", but you know what, I DO live here in NYC, I DO have a job as an actor, I AM grown up and that IS cool. I am living a life that so many people wish they could experience and I will never wonder "what if".

I am constantly surrounded by some of the most talented people you will ever meet. I love them all and they are my inspiration.

So, if/when I hit yet another rejection, I will remind myself that my life is pretty "cool" right now.

Green light........RED LIGHT!

Here's a brief Public Service Announcement for you New Yorkers out there: Wear your seatbelt while riding in the back of a taxi cab! If you choose to disobey it will only be a matter of time until a cab driver runs a red light and your face makes a sudden impact with the credit card machine in the partition. And that is not an accepted form of payment.

I recently had the privilege to experience this traumatic event. After the initial impact, I remarkably realized I could move all my limbs so I jumped out of the cab remembering most Hollywood car crash scenes ending in an explosion and was not about to be caught in that line of fire. Witnesses rushed to my care asking if I was okay. "Yes, I'm okay!" I told them. "But what does my face look like?!"

"Excuse me? What?" replies the shaken pedestrian.

"My face? I'm an actor! What does it look like?!"

Yes. My main concern at this point was if my career as an actor was finished. Was my eye swollen, any teeth knocked out, missing an ear? If I'm missing an ear I'm definitely going to have to get new headshots. That's a lot of money. Who's going to pay for that? Then I fainted.

Young gent picks me up and says, "Uhhh, lets get this girl in a cab home."

I realized that this guy thought I was some drunk girl that passed out on the sidewalk. Others corrected him by saying I was the passenger in the destroyed cab currently wrapped around that pole. He then pulled me back into the cab and continued to ask me questions to check my coherence when it was revealed that he was a producer. For the rest of my life I will regret not giving this guy my business card. Especially since I was thinking about for the whole 10 minutes we were hanging out until I went to the E.R. Always on networking mode.

Long story short, went to the hospital. Cat scan, X-rays, tetanus shot...everything turned out just fine. Should have been a lot worse since I was not wearing a seatbelt. Out of commission for a few days and found out that black eyes can appear quite some time after impact. Who knew?

Let me just say that I am so lucky have such an amazing group of friends who have shed their remarkable light on this unfortunate situation. From the minute the accident happened to these final recovery moments, I have had the most compassionate and genuine people surrounding me. Thank you. The world needs more people like you.

Right now I'm just taking it easy and taking the train wherever I go.

music is what feelings sound like

I was walking in the tunnel at the 42nd street station the other day, blasting my iPod, listening to the "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" theme. Only it was this jazzy version. Catchy, right?

John Williams has been rocking my world since I was 8. I appreciate all genres of music but have always had a strong interest in film composition. That's where John comes in. Here's a brief history of my affair with this man's music scores.

- In 1993, I purchased the soundtrack to Jurassic Park. I was 8 and it was the first CD I ever bought. That same year I started playing the flute. For our Spring concert we played the theme to Jurassic Park. It was at that moment I decided I would become a professional flautist and play in one of John Williams' orchestras.

- E.T. was a movie that always scared the hell out of me as a kid. I would have to fast forward through the majority of the flick until we got to Elliot and E.T.'s farewell. "Saying Goodbye" is one of the most beautiful and powerful pieces of the score. It brought me to tears at 9 years old. The build up at the end of the piece was too much for my young heart. You try listening to it without getting teary eyed.

- In 8th grade, I purchased a "John Williams' Collection" flute book. The book included the themes from Raider's of the Lost Ark, Star Wars, Superman and many more. I used to lock myself in my room and play for hours with the windows open in hopes that a talent agent would be passing by our house at the exact moment I was playing the flute solos in The Imperial March.

- Speaking of Star Wars... I cried tears of joy when Duel of the Fates was on MTV's Total Request Live in 1999.

While I admire many film/tv composers (Danny Elfman, James Horner, Alan Silvestri, Jerry Goldsmith, Elmer Bernstein), John Williams is the one who will forever hold that special place in my heart. It was the score to Jurassic Park that inspired me to become a musician in the first place. Out of all the activities I could have chosen to participate in, I immediately knew that band was it for me. I continued to play everyday until I graduated high school. I originally was going to go to college for instrumental performance. For some reason I decided not to. Maybe fear? I don't regret it. I regret keeping my flute on a shelf for the past couple of years. I recently brought my flute back with me to New York after visiting my parents. I am proud to announce that I skill kick ass and jumped on that chromatic scale like it was riding a bike.

I miss performing in orchestra's and hope that I get to have that experience again some day. In the meantime, I plan on playing my flute more often and if you see me walking down the street or working out with my iPod, I am most likely listening to the music score of a major motion picture.

Why do you do it?

As actors, we frequently accept a variety of jobs when we are in between shows. This includes waiting tables, nannying and even dreadful street promotions. Rarely do we come across a temp job that gives us anything more than a 15% tip and feelings of uselessness. However, on those special occasions when we are lucky enough to accept a job where we leave feeling inspired, it is reason enough to continue our passionate lifestyle and dismiss external negativity.

My nanny agent called me the other day to see if I was available to work a movie premiere at MoMA. Not doing anything Tuesday. Why not? I would be the guardian of the directors 9-year-old son, while he and his wife mingled with the crowds.

The premiere was for an HBO documentary called "The Lazarus Effect." This story is about the dramatic transformation of individuals living with HIV in Africa. When given 2 antiretroviral pills costing 40 cents a day, they can live a full life with HIV instead of dying from AIDS. It's a powerful film supported by the (RED) campaign and the Global Fund.

HBO Documentary: The Lazarus Effect trailer

I was desperately trying to not be a royal spazmatic when meeting director, Lance Bangs, and his wife, Corin Tucker. Here, I was supposed to keep their child entertained for the next 4 hours and I just prayed he didn't choke or fall down a flight of stairs while he was in my care. Marshall, the kid, turned out to be incredibly cool to talk to and we hit it off immediately. As we were sitting in the theater he leans over to me and says that the guy who plays Anakin Skywalker from Star Wars is sitting in front of us.

"Wait. What? That is not Hayden Christensen! It looks nothing like him!"

"Trust me. It's him."

Hayden turns my way and glances at me.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Marshall, that's Hayden Christensen."

"Duh!"

I convinced Marshall to go up to Hayden at the end of the premiere and say he was a big fan so I could meet him. Unfortunately, Hayden booked it out of the theater giving me no time to turn on the charm. I told Marshall he was a horrible wing-man. He didn't seem to mind.

Naturally, Lance was darting throughout the room, walking on the red carpet, and talking to press the whole evening so I didn't get to talk to him much. However, I was able to snag some time from Corin to ask her about the film. She mentioned how the producers really sought out Lance and wanted him to direct this documentary. That the experience really changed their lives and their family. They both seemed so down to earth and genuine about the project and the people they have touched and will touch due to the nature of the film.

After attending an event like this it reminds that as actors, or musicians, or writers, or directors we have so much power to influence the human mind. We do it through our words, music, and actions. It reminds me why I even got into acting in the first place. And that was to create the ability to make someone FEEL something. To introduce them or remind them of an idea or feeling that they may never have recognized within themselves.

I am so thankful and proud of those who created "The Lazarus Effect." It takes guts, heart, and sacrifice to make a film like this. If you are interested in learning more about the film and (RED) here is a link. "The Lazarus Effect" premieres on Monday, May 24.

Domo arigato hazelnut coffee

Writing to you live from the International Optical Fair Tokyo....booth....at The Vision Expo. Where the only reading material is in Japanese and the best conversations are with 50-year-old men telling you how pretty your face is. It's my third and last day assisting these friendly gems from Japan and I am sorry to report I haven't learned a lick of their language. In an attempt to strengthen my cultural knowledge I browsed through a pamphlet in what I thought was Japanese. When I thought I knew what I was reading, I proudly announced to the International Sales Manager I could read a little Japanese. He promptly corrected me by saying that pamphlet was actually in Chinese. Quite an endearing and charismatic man. He continued to endorse Tokyo and highly recommend I visit the city. While I shook my head yes all I could think was, "I've seen The Grudge and I'm not particularly in the mood to be cursed".

One of my next convention show jobs will be dressing up as a children's storybook character. Sell out job?

I need to book a play/film/commercial ASAP.

I am doing Boardwalk Empire Monday. Cigar/cigarette girl again. At least I have a steady gig there. Hell if I'll see some other girl shimmy around Babette's Club with my cigar tray. I'll push those cigars and cigarettes as much as the director calls for it. Who cares about my health or others. Got to love a show where production says, "Smoke 'em if you got 'em" to bring authenticity to the set.



I had a "go see" the other day with a modeling agency. Do I want to be a model? No. But do I like additional income to spend on New York fashion? Si. I had passed the prelims by sending in pictures and measurements so I thought the "interview" would be a breeze. I knocked on the agency's door and heard, "Come on in, Karen". The former model behind the desk took a good minute before she looked up from her laptop to acknowledge my presence.

"How tall are you?"

"5'8"."

"Stand against the wall so I can take some measurements."

She corrects me by saying I'm 5'8" and 1/2 as if this were Catholic school and I had forgotten the 10th commandment.

Measurements around bust, waist, and hip follow.

"You know, your measurements are disproportionate. Your top is a size smaller than your bottom. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes. Yes I am aware of that....trait."

She continues to stare sharply at me. I wondered if she was waiting for me to say I would be happy to develop an eating disorder to fix the situation but I kept my mouth shut.

"Well, Karen, can we have a headshot to keep on file and when something comes up we feel you would be good for we'll give you a call."

Then she smiled for the first time.

I walked out of there not sure how to feel about what just happened. Luckily, Greg called saying he and Tia were going to Central Park. If you dont know Greg and Tia, you should. I'll ask if their taking friend applications. I told them about my recent interactions and we felt it would be best to drown feelings with ice cream. After 5 minutes of Good Humor delight half of my treat dropped on the ground. Never in my life have a witnessed such an obvious sign.

I saw The Runaways last night and it made me wish I was more rebellious as a teenager. So, in Joan Jett style and to make up for lost days as a wannabe juvenile, I wore my leather jacket and red lipstick to work.



Go see the movie if you have not already. I hope you have a more rock savvy audience than we did. Toward the end of the movie, Joan's infamous "I Love Rock and Roll" plays and the 20-something behind us says, "Oh, THAT'S who sings this?" and serenades the movie theater with her own rendition. Hopefully with Jen's substancial "Shhh!!" and my "I hate idiots" she developed enough desire through humiliation to go home and Wikipedia Joan Jett like every other American.

Time to wrap up as my boss is expected to come around the corner any minute.

Sayounara.

the jig is up

Fate reached out to me today and sang, "Now is the right time Karen, now is the right time." ...

I was sitting in 8th grade Biology not only trying to understand what eukaryotes and mitochondria were but how to pronounce them when I first discovered Riverdancing.We had a substitute and she promised if we worked for a solid 10 minutes then the rest of the 50 minute period could be spent watching whatever we wanted on the television. (Education obviously wasn't high priority in Fayetteville, NC) After 10 minutes of passing notes back and forth with my friends we switched on the TV in hopes of finding a Dawson's Creek re-run. What we found was a true phenomenon in my eyes. A special on Riverdancing. I was in awe of the effortless moves these dancers created with their graceful limbs. While the other classmates made fun of the dance I secretly wished I could be apart of it.

I went home that day, ran to my room, locked the door and attempted my own Irish jig. Since I didn't have any "Celtic Dance" I had to make due with The Nutcracker soundtrack. At 12 years old, I was already a well established dork and didn't need this new obsession providing more ammo to the girls that currently made my school days unbearable, so I kept it a secret for years.

Now, I am more than happy to share my love for the sport and proudly announce it whether it's relevant or not. I have even gone so far as to tell random people that I AM a Riverdancer on tour. Take me to an Irish bar, pour me a Guinness, play a little Dropkick Murphy's on the jukebox and I am rather convincing. However, if you're dumb enough to think I'm actually a Riverdancer then I'm ordering you to pay my tab.

Back to today. I was working yet another convention where I had no interest in the industry trade when I saw some girls modeling some peculiar hair styles. Their hair looked like George Washington's powder wig with Dolly Parton's volume. At first I thought this was some kind of cheerleading competition and was even more put off. Then I saw another group turning the corner in traditional Irish garb. My eyes widen as I heard the taps of their dancing clogs. OH MY GOSH THIS IS A FEIS! A little education for you. A "feis" is a sanctioned Irish dance competition.

There was no containing my excitement as I rapidly gushed my love for Riverdancing to my co-worker and a few strangers waiting for me to print up badges for their lame convention. I knew what I had to do next. Leave my post and go check out this more interesting form of entertainment. Immediately I start striking up a conversation with a coach/new BFF who guides me toward my dreams. He said he couldn't believe I had never taken an Irish dancing class and it was never too late to get started. I thought to myself, "Yes, why HAVEN'T I taken an Irish dancing class? I live in NYC! If there is a crunking dance class, then I surely can find Irish dance!"

Today was just the motivation I needed to push me toward the start of a new hobby where people will question how I provide the illusion of my legs moving as if independent from the rest of my body. I'll keep you posted on my progress.