Tag: dailyprompt

Where did your name come from?

The story goes that there was an actress in 1965 that had named her daughter Karen. I believe there was some type of Scandinavian lineage involved which spoke to my half Norwegian born mother as she was about to give birth to her first born. And so I was named Karen on that sweltering Monday in August.

At the time it was not a very common name until I entered school and realized I was one of a handful of Karens. I loved my name and was proud of it. My mother would and still always calls me Ka in the best New York accent anyone can have.

Enter social media when the world began to thrive on memes, unsolicited comments, and rants. Women who complained..asked to speak to a manager for said complaints…had horrific haircuts…or just plain whined were now called “Karens”. My name became a thing. An object. I’ve even heard it used as a slur.

If you know me I am not anything like what these memes or slants portray yet the snickers and eye rolls I encounter when I give my name still amazes me.

Sometime during my college years I developed a nickname during a night of drinking. Kiki stuck and has become my go to name at times. It’s easy to remember and quite frankly not as laughable reactions I get when I introduce myself with my birth name.

What’s in a name? In my case pride except when used as a label which is miles away from who I truly am. Now I just smile and know that my name was given to me and that will never allow me to be anyone else in this world.

What profession do you admire most and why?

Daily Prompt 08/12/2025 

The question was asked “What profession do you admire most and why?”

My opening statement is that I respect all positions. Let’s face it – everything we do in life relies on a procedure or product made my somebody. The people who harvest our coffee. The engineers who develop machines to brew our coffee. The manufacturers who make coffee cups to hold the coffee. Even the dental community who develops tooth whiteners to erase the coffee stains from our teeth. Do you see where I’m going here? There are endless jobs and positions out there that affect every single aspect of our lives on a daily basis. 

The position I admire most? It is a tried and true profession of Teaching. I have loved and respected teachers throughout my entire educational career. There was only one teacher I did not care for and to be honest the only reason for not being fond of her was because of her smell. That didn’t make her a bad teacher. It just meant her odor was distracting and I couldn’t completely engage with her during the 38-minute period in middle school. I digress.

I remember each of my teachers and most of the day-to-day lessons vividly. Yes, I have somewhat of a photographic memory but how I responded to each teacher with the desire to learn is what has stayed with me over the years. There are a few teachers who stood out as my favorites because they sparked interests that ignited passions such as writing. Sitting in a sixth-grade classroom every day after lunch and listening to Mr. Dalven read excerpts from novels taught me how to listen to a writer’s voice and tone. That tone taught me story structure and how to reach an audience. Those few minutes each day shaped how I wanted to communicate with people through my own literary style. 

During my first few months of college, I came to know that 95% of my dorm were Special Education teachers Speech and Language majors. I was the lone English Literature and Business Management major. I posed the topic of switching majors to my parents during my first visit home. My Dad quickly put his hand up and said “Karen Anne – you need to consider the job market in the next few years. While it is an amazing profession, the world of Special Education is very specific. You need a much broader base – one where you will always be able to branch out in employment.” While his point at the time was valid, it was not specific enough and since he was paying the bills and I was a total rule follower – I put my head down and showed up to my Management 101 course on Monday morning. Flash forward to 2001 when my son was diagnosed with Autism. My Dad recalled our conversation one weekend and said, “I now know I misspoke”. We smiled and passed the mashed potatoes. 

My love of the teaching profession wove itself into our relationships with the kids’ teachers throughout the years. I dove into our district PTA to support this incredible pool of talent in any way I could. This led to my love of the education administration and landed me where I am today – supporting a school district. 

I truly believe that the love of teaching a child to read – to understand – to navigate – and to be a good human being is a true gift. Not everyone is cut out for it. I know this. The ones that are though shine bright in my mind. Thank you all for your decision to light up minds throughout our world.

List 10 things you know to be absolutely certain.

I’ll count backwards although my things are in no particular order…

10. Wearing black is home to me.

9. Twinkling Christmas lights act like a Time Machine to me. I can be transported back to Christmases past with just one look.

8. Feet are very strange yet they are essential.

7. I cannot ice skate well.

6. I love corn but corn does not love me back.

5. The right amount of pillows and blankets can change my world.

4. Long Island and New York City bagels are like no other bagels in this world.

3. Genuine eye contact during a conversation uplifts me to another level of human connection.

2. My gut instincts about someone never lie.

And the last one…I never talk about politics in my blogs but I can say with confidence – I have always been proud to be an American regardless of who sits in a White House.

What’s your go-to comfort food?

I could sit here and give my stock answer of a rare burger topped with blue cheese slices and a tomato piled on a grilled Brioche bun accompanied by a Dirty Martini. While this is one of my favorite things to enjoy from time to time, it really doesn’t describe my most basic comfort food.

The soft-boiled egg. The eleven minute perfectly cooked soft-boiled egg. Served up in a very beautifully painted vintage porcelain egg cup. An ever so tiny, yet perfect pinch of sea salt on the freshly cracked opened egg. The first plunge past the white into the egg with the miniature egg spoon just soothes me while the slice of whole grain bread sends heavenly toast smells across the floor.

The soft-boiled egg.

Perfection.

Comfort.

How do you practice self-care?

I would always be mesmerized by the flight attendants at an early age. The safety demonstrations though always left me perplexed. We were instructed to place the oxygen mask on ourselves first before helping others with theirs. I told my parents on an early flight that this was very selfish. I wanted to help others first. I missed the concept that I can’t help others unless I was breathing and whole. I suppose this wrote the template for my life. I grew up as an empath who would do anything for those I loved. My needs came second – if at all.

Self care was laden with guilt. You didn’t sit down to relax unless everything was done in the house. As a result I found that I couldn’t let go unless I was given permission.

Fast forward to the days when my kids finally arrived. It was a 24/7/365 marathon on taking care of two cherubs and a household. It’s what I did and I loved it. No questions asked. I threw myself into their worlds. School functions, sports, activities, scouts. Throw in the world of the PTA mom just for fun and to suck up all of my time.

Me time? What was that? I was 102 pounds heavier than my former self in college. I didn’t recognize myself either physically or mentally.

Through a PTA function I visited a Boot Camp gym with the intent to bring a new family fitness initiative to our district. What happened that night led to now years of taking care of someone I never expected – me.

One class turned into three and a year later I was taking seven classes a week. I dropped 63 pounds and was suddenly running obstacle course races all over the country.

The physical me needed a friend so we found a spirituality friend. We embarked on a new journey. We woke up at 5 am, meditated (today I completed a 1,514 day streak of meditation), packed my meal prepped breakfasts and lunches, headed to work, home to change, and then hit the gym.

Now 11 years later my self care sits in first class with me each day. I know what I need and I’m not afraid to ask for it. While I’m admittedly a bit addicted to the beauty regimen part of self care – the rest of the self care movement is here to stay. I’m now quite comfortable with putting my mask on first. You cannot help anyone in this world without allowing yourself to breathe and know who you are. That is the best self care of all.

How do you waste the most time every day?

Doomscrolling. I don’t know what I’m looking for. This ADHD brain is easily amused and can respond to shiny objects such as cute outfits, must have lip glosses, and the ultimate cure for cellulite in a jar.

It starts innocently enough with a daily Wordle game which I honestly installed to keep my brain cranking to ward off Alzheimer’s. Once the game is solved I will open Instagram and it is off to the races. I follow a VAST list of very interesting pages/people, groups, and interests which include local turned famous chefs, dancers/choreographers, authors, athletes (which include my NY Giants), makeup artists, and just about every inspirational page I have found or landed on just through doomscrolling.

Most of the time a lot of my discovery will lead to notes like this and thoughts that I put into an online journal for future blog ideas. I take screenshots of different items and surf through Pinterest, which, of course, is fueled by the algorithm from said doomscrolling. It’s all very interesting yet dangerous at the same time! I am probably a marketer’s dream in that whatever company pushes a product my way based on my clicks and interest will result in some form of a sale. If I don’t close the deal that day then I snag it two or three days later when I realize that I should’ve never passed up the opportunity to buy it in the first place. It’s a vicious cycle I tell you.

These prompts will eventually end up in a blog somewhere which will ultimately justify how I waste time during the day!

Winning!